Gakusen Toshi Asterisk - Volume 15 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6 
AKARI YACHIGUSA AND MADIATH MESA 
“A-amazing! Madiath Mesa and Akari Yachigusa have breezed through the fifth round! With this, they’re well on their way to the quarterfinals!” 
Madiath returned to his designated starting position, hearing the fevered commentary and the cheers of the crowd. Akari, already waiting for him, greeted him with a warm smile. 
“Good work, Madiath. I didn’t even need to do anything.” 
As soon as the match started, Madiath had promptly taken care of both their opponents, so Akari hadn’t even had a chance to take a turn. 
In fact, out of each of their five matches up to this point, she had only really done anything in their third one, after both of their opponents in that match had gone straight for her. 
Perhaps they had assumed she specialized in working in the rear guard, but she took them both down splendidly. As far as Madiath was concerned, he was grateful their challengers were now wary of her, too. 
“Don’t worry about it. Just think of it like you’re keeping prepared for when you’re needed.” 
As they had expected, there were hardly any strong opponents in the Phoenix this year. Nor did any of Asterisk’s schools seem to have entered any dark horse contestants. The remaining tag teams were nothing next to fighters like Ryoue Arato from the Eclipse. 
“And besides, you’re still not feeling a hundred percent, right? Don’t try to hide it, I can tell.” 
“…Thank you,” Akari said, looking down at her feet apologetically. 
Just as when Madiath first met Akari, she sometimes found herself feeling dizzy and would have to sit down. Recently, such episodes seemed to be becoming more frequent. 
When they went to the hospital to get it checked out, the director Jan Korbel had diagnosed her with prana adjustment disorder. It was an illness unique to Genestella, which, as the name suggested, caused the body to reject the prana inside it. The symptoms varied from person to person, and there was no cure. Apparently, for some people the symptoms disappeared over time, but for others they only got worse. 
In other words, there wasn’t anything they could do about it. 
As such, the best thing for her was to not overexert herself. Madiath represented them at their winner’s interview, and after putting in enough time with the reporters, he returned to his prep room, where he found the student council president waiting for him. 
“Ah, wonderful job. Just as I had expected.” 
“Thanks, I guess,” Madiath replied coolly. 
The student council president seemed to be in a good mood, but Madiath didn’t hold that against him. If contestants from Seidoukan were to win in the Festa, then his reputation would naturally rise, too. Moreover, it was the student council president who had first scouted Madiath, so that would inevitably be taken into account as well. 
The student council president turned to Akari. “I heard that you haven’t been in great shape, Miss Yachigusa… Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
“I guess all is well, then.” The student council president’s smile never wavered, but the eyes behind his glasses twinkled with some hidden light. “By the way… The reason I’ve come here is because we need to talk.” 
“Talk…?” 
“Yes, about the future.” The student council president spoke with exaggerated importance as he adjusted his glasses. “Assuming you were to win the Phoenix, I was wondering what you two were planning to do next.” 
“We’ve only just finished the fifth round. It’s a little early to be thinking about that.” 
“There aren’t any teams left capable of standing up against you two, wouldn’t you say? Well, Gallardworth and Le Wolfe’s Orga Lux users might put up a bit of a fight…but it’s nothing that you and Miss Yachigusa can’t handle.” 
Madiath had to agree with that assessment. If there was anyone in Asterisk capable of stopping them now, it would have to be someone at the same level as Jie Long’s Ban’yuu Tenra. 
“So you want to talk about the future…? I’m guessing you want me to enter the Gryps, then?” Madiath asked innocently. 
“Of course. We need you to keep going as far as you can,” the student council president answered with a meaningful glance. 
So long as Madiath was bound by contract, he had no say in the matter. 
Special scholarships like the one that had been awarded to him typically lasted until graduation from high school, but they could be extended until the end of one’s university studies with the mutual agreement of both the school and the student. Up until he had ended up revealing his abilities, he had been intending to stay at Seidoukan through university, but with the way things had turned now, he wanted to graduate sooner rather than later. Nonetheless, he was still in his second year of high school, so at the very least, he would have to enter the Festa one more time—in other words, next year’s Gryps. 
However, even if he were to participate in the team tournament, whether or not he would actually put in an effort would depend on his mood at the time. Right now, it was precisely because Akari was his tag partner that he was putting in his all. 
“What about you, Akari? What are your plans?” 
“I…I don’t know yet,” she answered. “I’ll talk to my mother when things calm down and give it some thought.” 
The student council president narrowed his eyes. “I see… I suspected as much… Hmm…” 
“What…?” 
“Oh no, it’s nothing. Well then, I should be going.” And with that, the student council president left the room with a light wave of his hand. 
“Hmph… And I thought he was going to try to recruit you again,” Madiath said as he watched him leave. 
Akari broke into a weak smile, scratching at her cheek. “It’s because my abilities aren’t suited to team battles.” 
It was true that Akari’s abilities would affect not only her opponents but her fellow team members, too. That wouldn’t affect their numbers, but it would leave them in a bad way if they were up against, say, a team of five of Jie Long’s martial artists. 
“…It’s fine, I guess. Anyway, we’ve got tomorrow off. It’s been a while, so why don’t we go on a date?” Madiath asked casually. 
Akari nodded, her smile softer and more genuine than it had been a moment earlier. “I’d love to.” 
The midsummer sky was deep and expansive. 
The sun’s rays were strong enough to pierce into one’s skin, the heat relentlessly harsh, and the high humidity of the lake city almost too much to bear. 
Nonetheless, Akari chose a small place by the edge of the residential area to go to. 
“Akari, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 
“I’m fine. Look, I’ve brought a parasol.” Akari spun around with a broad smile, holding the item overhead, but she was still sweating considerably. 
Thankfully, at least the cool breeze blowing over the surface of the lake was a minor respite. 
“You’re a bit strange, though, wanting to come here in this scorching heat.” 
“Isn’t it nice? I like it here. And you know, people notice me now whenever I go out in town…” 
Ever since their breakout success in the Phoenix, Madiath and Akari had both been featured extensively in the media, no doubt due to the fact that neither of them had been public figures up until that point. Now they were all but the highlight of the tournament. 
Of course, there were contestants like that in the Festa every year. The current hubbub surrounding them wouldn’t last forever. Next year the attention of the masses would no doubt fall on someone else. Unless, of course, Madiath or Akari were identified as possibilities for multiple consecutive wins or even a grand slam. 
“Ah, it’s so wonderful, staring up at the sky like this.” Having lowered her parasol, Akari looked to be at peace. 
Madiath found his attention wandering at the carefree sight of her looking toward the sky. As he gazed at her cherry-colored hair, her long eyelashes, her white skin beading with perspiration—she was the same person she had always been, but now, he felt somehow as if time had drawn to a halt. 
“Madiath? What’s wrong?” Akari, realizing he had been watching her, tilted her head in curiosity. 
“…Ah, I was just thinking how beautiful you are.” 
“Huh?!” Akari lowered her parasol in an attempt to hide her scarlet face. “Wh-what’s this, all of a suddennn—?!” 
It was a pure and innocent response, not at all what Madiath would have expected from someone who had worked in the Rotlicht. 
Akari had changed considerably since he had first met her, and that was probably for the best. Nonetheless, some selfish part of him hoped that this cuteness of hers would never fade. 
The future, huh…? 
It wasn’t because the student council president had raised the topic. The old Madiath would never have bothered to contemplate something as far-flung as what had yet to come. Not only had he grown up in an environment where there were no guarantees whatsoever about what might come next, but on a personal level, he simply didn’t have any interest in it. 
Now, though— 
“Say, Akari,” he began. 
“Yes?” Akari peeked out at him from behind her parasol. Her cheeks were still tinged pink. 
“After we graduate, what do you think about living together?” 
“Wha—?” With this, her face turned an even deeper shade of red. 
“Akari?” 
“Um, I mean…” She fell silent for a long moment, her expression gradually turning serious. “I know I’ve told you this before… But I don’t really know what it means to love anyone.” 
“Because you can’t love yourself, right?” 
“…Yes.” 
That was a feeling Madiath simply didn’t understand. 
You were you, and others were others. As far as he was concerned, those two principles were completely separate. 
For instance, he neither liked nor disliked himself, but he did like Akari. 
Nonetheless, she had her own reasons for thinking that way. 
“But then… Maybe that part of me will change, too. Maybe I can finally be myself now? Right, if we can win the Phoenix, then…” She let out a quiet laugh before shyly falling silent once again. 
Speaking of which, Madiath knew that for Akari, there wasn’t any particularly deep meaning behind their potential victory. What she wanted was for her mother to love her…or if not that, to at least acknowledge her existence. For her, the Phoenix was simply a means to that end. 
“So, Madiath, can you wait a little while longer for my answer?” 
“…All right. But I doubt you’ll keep me waiting too long.” 
Akari pursed her lips sullenly. “I envy your confidence, Madiath.” 
As it happened, they enjoyed an easy victory just a few days later. 
  
When Madiath awoke to the sunlight breaking in through his window, he realized there was a strange weight resting on his right arm. 
When he turned his head, he came face-to-face with Akari lying asleep next to him. 
“…” 
He tensed for a brief moment before letting out his breath and gently pulling out his arm so as not to wake her. 
Nonetheless— 
“Ngh…” Akari slowly opened her eyes, their gazes meeting. 
“Good morning, Akari,” he reluctantly called out. 
“!” Her mouth fell agape in vacant confusion. Then her eyes snapped shut, and she hurriedly dived under the bedsheet. 
“…G-good morning…,” came a weak, muffled voice as Madiath got out of bed. 
They were in a suite at the Hotel Elnath. A victory celebration had been held for the two of them the previous night, in which they had brushed up against all of Galaxy’s big names. Madiath was just grateful that they had rooms prepared for them. Of course, Akari’s was supposed to be the one next to his. 
“Do you want some coffee?” he asked as he changed into his clothes. 
“…Yes, please,” came Akari’s voice, only slightly louder than it had been a moment ago. 
As was to be expected of Asterisk’s most prestigious hotel, the room was equipped with a high-quality coffee maker, not the usual instant kind. As he activated the device, he heard Akari get out of bed behind him and head into the bathroom, but he purposefully didn’t look around. 
She came out after a short while, refreshed and fully dressed, looking somewhat nervous. 

  

“Here,” he said, holding out her cup of coffee. 
“Th-thank you,” she answered as she slowly brought it to her lips. “It’s delicious…” 
Without saying anything, Madiath sat down on the edge of the bed. Akari soon joined him by his side. 
Neither of them said anything, but it was strangely comfortable, relaxing. 
Akari leaned her head against Madiath’s shoulder. 
They didn’t need to do anything or talk about anything in particular. It was just nice to be together like this. 
Now that Madiath thought about it, the previous night might very well have been the first time he had ever been able to sleep soundly with another person by his side. 
Essentially, it was the first time he had ever known true comfort. 
“By the way…,” he began after a while. “Akari, have you decided what you’re going to wish for?” 
As the champions of the Festa, the foundations would grant them both one wish. 
Of course, some things would be impossible. Not even the foundations could perform magic. They couldn’t bring the dead back to life, and it was difficult to change people’s hearts and minds (although money could go some way toward achieving that). When it was said that they could do anything, what was really meant was that they could do anything within the realm of reality, owing to their total domination of the world and its economy. 
“…What about you, Madiath?” Akari asked, turning the question back to him. 
That was unusual for her, but Madiath didn’t mind answering first. “I’m not sure yet.” 
It wasn’t that he had no desires, but nothing concrete came to mind. If he had to choose, he might go with money, but of course there would be a limit to that. The amount would no doubt depend on whether he wanted it all at once or in installments, so that just raised more questions. 
“But if you’re asking me, don’t tell me you’ve already…?” 
“Heh…” Akari smiled mischievously. “Yep, I’ve decided,” she answered, her voice somewhat proud. 
“No fair. All by yourself? When did this happen?” 
“Just the other day.” 
“Hmm… Well, what is it?” 
“It’s…a secret.” Seeing Madiath’s confusion at this blunt answer, Akari’s shoulders shook in amusement. “Ha, I’m kidding. It’s a joke. Don’t look at me like that.” 
He must have been making a strange face, as Akari continued to laugh softly to herself before continuing: “My wish—” 
But before she could say anything more, her mobile chimed with an incoming call. 
All because of that, Madiath had no idea what she had been about to say. 
And he never would. 
“Sorry to call you so early, Miss Yachigusa. Please, we need to talk. It’s a matter of some urgency.” 
The voice coming out of the blank air-window was that of the student council president. 
“Uh, yes… What is it?” 
“Er, well, I don’t really know how to put this… Miss Yachigusa, it seems that your mother has just passed away.” 
At that moment, Akari’s expression froze over. “Huh…?” 
The cup in her hands slid silently to the floor, black coffee seeping into the carpet. 
“Please return home at once. I’ve already seen to getting you permission to leave Asterisk.” 
“Ah, um, wait a minute… My mother… What…?” 
Akari seemed to be in shock and had yet to fully grasp the situation. 
Madiath took her by the shoulders and stared darkly into the empty air-window. “Hey, prez. What happened? Explain what’s going on.” 
“Huh? Madiath…? I’m really sorry. I don’t have all the information myself. All I’ve heard is that, well…it sounds like suicide…” 
“Suicide…?” Akari’s eyes flooded with despair. 
“Hey!” 
“Er, I’m really sorry. A-anyway, it’s best you call home for the details.” 
“…Fine. I’ll go with her.” 
Madiath had heard all about Akari’s family situation and the events leading up to her coming to Asterisk. He wasn’t about to let her go back alone. 
“No, um… Unfortunately, that will be difficult. As you know, you need permission to leave Asterisk, and—” 
“Can’t you just—?” 
But before he could finish, Akari placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Madiath.” 
That trembling voice of hers didn’t sound okay. 
“But Akari…” 
“Thank you for your concern… But this is my problem.” Her expression was neither tearful nor happy, her vague smile betraying nothing at all. 
In the end, Akari returned home alone. 
After that, Madiath didn’t hear so much as a word from her. Her mobile wouldn’t connect, and he couldn’t reach her. Days passed, one after the other. 
Around a week later, he was called to the student council president’s office. 
Outside the window behind his desk, dark late-summer clouds blanketed the city. 
“Your application to leave Asterisk has been approved… I know this process took some time, but you’re still planning on going after her, I assume?” 
“Of course,” Madiath answered curtly. 
The student council president wasn’t exactly sparing with his time, and Madiath sincerely doubted that he would have called him all the way here just to tell him that. When Madiath remained stoic, the president eventually relented, letting out a deep sigh and crossing his arms. 
“Well, I won’t try to stop you… But I should tell you, you’re wasting your time.” 
“…What’s that supposed to mean?” Madiath glared back at him dangerously. 

The student council president broke into a cold sweat, but continued, his voice flat: “As of yesterday, Galaxy accepted Miss Yachigusa’s wish.” 
“—!” 
“Festa champions can choose whether or not to make their wish public. Miss Yachigusa chose to reveal it only to you. So you have the right to know. Do you want to?” 
Madiath nodded. 
The student council president let out a weak cough before continuing, “Miss Yachigusa’s wish was this: to change her name, her face, and her family—to become someone else.” 
“What…?!” 
Madiath was left speechless. He had never even imagined that she would ask for such a thing. 
“Something must have happened when she went back home,” the student council president continued. “I’ve never heard of such an unusual wish, though.” 
“…Do you know why she wanted that?” 
“Well…I suspect that it must have something to do with her mother.” 
Madiath clicked his tongue in disgust at this obvious answer. Even he could see that. 
The problem—no, before that. 
“How am I supposed to find her?” 
“I’m afraid that will be impossible.” 
“…What?” 
Madiath took a step forward, his rage bubbling over, as he slammed his hands down on the president’s desk. 
“Th-there’s no use threatening me! Galaxy’s already accepted her wish, right? If she wanted to become someone else, then Akari Yachigusa no longer exists! You must understand! No one can change what the foundations have decided!” 
“…Tch!” 
As infuriating as it was, the president was right. 
At the very least, there wasn’t anything that this man sitting in front of him could do. 
Madiath spun around and stormed out of the office. 
In any event, he would first go to her home. He doubted she was still there, but with more information, he might be able to guess her movements or find some other kind of clue as to her whereabouts. 
Just as he was about to head toward Asterisk’s port, he stopped dead in his tracks. 
He had barely stepped out of the main gate at Seidoukan Academy when his mobile began to ring with an incoming call. 
The caller’s name wasn’t displayed, but he could guess who it was. 
“…Akari?” 
“…” 
There was no answer. 
Still, he was sure of it. It was her. 
“…I’m sorry, Madiath.” 
Ah… 
It was a small, shaky, abandoned voice. 
The second he heard it, he knew: There was nothing that he could do. 
A cool droplet fell down from the sky, striking against his cheek. 
A light rain began to fall. 
“I’m…I’m no good. No good. I…I couldn’t love myself, not even for you. I’m such an idiot. I’m pathetic… I can’t do it.” 
“…Oh.” 
Other than that, Madiath didn’t know how to respond. 
The rain grew stronger. It was an ambiguous rain, stronger than a drizzle, weaker than a downpour, not enough to dye the world gray. 
But it wouldn’t stop, not any time soon. 
He didn’t know how, but he knew. 
“I’m sorry, Madiath… I’m really, truly sorry…” 
Akari apologized to him again and again before eventually hanging up. 
Madiath could feel his heart growing cold and, at the same time, anger stirring up from deep inside him. 
Nonetheless, his thoughts were surprisingly clear. 
First, he was going to find somewhere to vent that rage. 
  
Late at night in the redevelopment area, a shadowed figure leaped from rooftop to rooftop amid the ruins. 
The clouds were thick, and there was no moonlight. There were no working streetlamps in the redevelopment area, and the glow of the skyscrapers of the commercial area didn’t reach this far away. 
All at once, the figure came to a sudden stop and called out in a sneering voice: “Hey, I don’t know who you are, but what’s with that thirst for blood? You here to knock me off or something?” 
Having been detected, Madiath slowly emerged from behind the rubble. 
He had wanted to be detected. He wouldn’t be here if he wanted the figure to disappear without stopping. 
“Oh? I thought you were with one of the other intelligence organizations, but that’s a Seidoukan uniform… Ah, Madiath Mesa, huh?” The figure spoke deliberately and lowered its hood with a feigned laugh. 
Of course, no intelligence agent at any of Asterisk’s six schools would have failed to recognize the face of the champion of the Phoenix. As was often the case with those who spent their lives working in the shadows, this person’s personality seemed to be somewhat warped. 
“…Lantana, right? With Shadowstar?” 
“I wonder?” The man shrugged his shoulders, playing dumb. 
But Madiath had hardly expected him to give an honest answer. 
“We’ve met before, but it felt like I was looking in a mirror.” 
“I’m afraid I’ve long since forgotten what my real face looks like,” replied the hooded man—Lantana—lightly. His eyes let out a piercing glint. 
Lantana still hadn’t confirmed his identity nor had he denied it. He must have realized that Madiath had done his research. 
In fact, Madiath had been monitoring Lantana’s—and Shadowstar’s—actions, using the connections he had made at the Eclipse. That was a dark part of the city he had hoped he would never again get caught up in, but it was undeniably useful knowing so many people who were familiar with the underground. And so he had relinquished almost all his hard-earned winnings and returned once more to that cruel and bloodthirsty sideshow. 
“So what do you want with me? If you want Shadowstar to do something for you, you’d best take it to the student council prez first.” 
“There’s no need to bother the president. I just want to ask you something.” 
“Hey, hey, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but do you really expect an intelligence operative to talk?” 
“…I suppose not,” Madiath replied, pulling a sword-type Lux from the holder at his waist and activating it. 
“Heh! So it’s brute force now! You’ve got some nerve!” Lantana immediately leaped backward, putting some distance between the two of them. “I don’t care if you won the Phoenix, you’re being a bit cocky, don’t you think? It’s one thing fighting in a tournament, but it’s something else entirely messing with people in my line of work.” 
“Yes, I know.” 
“Wha—?!” 
In a single moment, Madiath had already circled around behind him. The blade of his Lux glimmered in the darkness, cutting through the tendons of Lantana’s hands and feet. 
“Guh…!” 
“Now then, my question,” Madiath said, staring down coldly at the fallen operative. 
“And if I refuse to answer?” 
“Then I’ll kill you.” 
“Heh, that’s a good one,” Lantana scoffed. 
“You don’t think I’m serious?” 
“Oh, I believe you. But what’s to stop you from killing me even if I do talk?” 
Madiath checked the time. “You’re on a mission for Shadowstar, no? If you don’t get back in time, your buddies will come looking for you, right? I’m guessing you can track one another’s locations, so…we’ve probably got around five minutes, huh? After that, they’ll probably come to pick you up. So how about it? Do you want to buy some time?” 
“…You attacked me knowing that?” Lantana’s angry voice carried a hint of legitimate surprise. 
He paused for a moment—two, maybe three seconds—before giving up. 
“Fine, I’ll bite. What do you want to know?” 
“Tell me about Akari Yachigusa and her mother.” 
“Heh, I thought so.” Lantana stared up at him with a sickly smile. “I guess if you’ve come for me, you’ve already worked most of it out, huh?” 
“…I’ve had my suspicions ever since the student council president was so confident that he could convince the Yachigusas to let Akari enter the tournament. She’s told me what they’re like. Sure, her relatives may have just used her as a convenient outlet to vent their own misfortunes, and for the right price, maybe their minds could be changed. But her mother…” 
“Yeah, her mother. She was more difficult. That woman really hated her daughter, huh. On a real psychological level. Her regret and disgust at giving birth to her were more than she could live with. Nothing would convince her, no matter what we offered. The honorable prez knew that.” 
“So when Akari spoke with her, that was—” 
“—Yep, me. I’m a copyist, you know that.” Lantana readily admitted to the accusation. “My abilities aren’t some third-rate simulations. It can be a real pain, but if I put my mind to it, I can copy more than just someone’s looks. Their memories, their emotions, even. I don’t like going that far, though. It wears on you.” 
Madiath understood. It was no surprise that Akari had been fooled. 
Especially given that she hadn’t even seen her mother for so many years. 
“That’s why I understand her so well, you see. That woman just couldn’t forgive her for existing. And with how well she did in the Festa, how famous that made her… That would have been unbearable for that woman. And then you both had to go and win. Everyone on Earth knows who she is now, and the media keeps going on and on about you and her. I’m betting it was enough to make her want to hang herself.” 
“…!” 
“Hey! Just so you know, I was only doing my job, okay?” Lantana added, sensing Madiath’s rising fury. “The prez wanted to keep the charade going a bit longer, I’m guessing. He wanted me to fill in for the mother every now and then, you know? But I guess her abilities were too much to handle, and with her prana adjustment disorder getting worse… He must’ve decided she wasn’t worth it. He’s obsessed with cost-effectiveness, you know? He must’ve thought you were good enough by yourself.” 
Lantana was becoming talkative. Maybe he was starting to worry about why his fellow operatives had yet to arrive. 
“I see. I get the picture.” 
“H-hold on, wait! Don’t you have any other questions? It’s on the house; I’ll let you know whatever you want…!” 
“I’ve heard enough. Now it’s my turn to tell you something.” Madiath bowed down and whispered softly in his ear: “You could wait here forever—your buddies aren’t coming. They can’t come.” 
“Huh…?” 
Perhaps unable to immediately grasp the meaning of those words, Lantana’s face froze in shock. 
“See ya.” 
“No, don’t…! The prez, Galaxy, they won’t just—” 
But before he could finish his desperate plea for mercy, Madiath plunged the blade of his Lux deep into his heart. 
“It isn’t all that unusual for an operative to fail in their mission and vanish without a word, is it now?” 
But there was no response. 
Lantana was already dead. 
“Besides… I don’t care if they find out,” Madiath murmured to himself. “It can all go to hell.” 
When he looked up, there wasn’t even a single star in the night sky. 
He may have taken some revenge, but the burning anger in the pit of his stomach had yet to abate. Maybe after he killed the student council president and then the old fool at the head of the Yachigusa family, he might feel a little better. 
But he suspected he wouldn’t. 
This anger wouldn’t be relieved until he could destroy his true enemy who had killed Akari Yachigusa. That was neither the Yachigusa family that had so pursued her nor the student council president or Galaxy, who had both used her to their own ends. Nor was it the ordinary people with their prejudices against Genestella nor the Genestella who were forced to bow down to everyone else. Nor was it he himself, who had given her a semblance of futile hope that she might escape this caged world in which they lived—no matter how enjoyable their time together had been. 
No, his true enemy was— 
“Indeed. A most logical conclusion.” 
“…!” 
Madiath spun around at the unexpected voice. 
Standing across from him was a middle-aged man dressed in a suit and another young man with silver-colored hair that glistened in the night. 
Madiath could hardly believe they had gotten so close without him noticing. 
“You… Did you just…read my mind?” 
“Oh, he’s quick on the uptake as well. What do you think, Ecknardt? Can we use him?” The man in the suit, devoid of expression, turned to his young companion. 
“Yes, yes. I think we can, Varda. We’ve found ourselves a real prize. I had been thinking we would need a human ally, but who would have expected that we might find one so soon?” The young man glanced back at his partner with a carefree grin. 
Intuitively, Madiath readied himself for trouble. 
Neither of them was human. He could sense they were similar in some ways to Jie Long’s Ban’yuu Tenra, but she was closer to true personhood than these two. 
No, the individuals in front of him were different on a fundamental level. 
“Indeed. We aren’t human,” replied the one called Varda, his voice free of emotion. 
Beneath that suit, some uncanny black light seeped into the darkness. 
“…I don’t know who you are, but how about you stop spying on my thoughts? I won’t ask twice,” Madiath called out in a low voice, aiming the point of his Lux toward the one called Varda. 
“How rude of us. You’re right, of course.” 
“Indeed.” 
To Madiath’s surprise, the two of them nodded without any protest. 
“We aren’t your enemies. Think of us as potential allies…comrades, looking to create the same future you desire.” 
“Comrades…?” Madiath raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 
Ecknardt, however, flashed him a friendly smile, spreading his arms wide. “More precisely—we want to help you engulf this world in your wrath.” 
That was Madiath’s first encounter with the Varda-Vaos and Ecknardt. 
Yes, that was the beginning of his struggle. 
  
In his office in the Festa Executive Committee headquarters, Madiath Mesa stared vacantly outside his window at the sky above Asterisk. 
Just as it had been long ago, the sky was covered over now with thick, leaden clouds that shrouded the moon and stars. The semifinals would begin tomorrow, but unfortunately, the forecast was for rain—yet again. 
No amount of water, however, would be enough to douse the enthusiasm of the spectators, nor Madiath’s seething fury. 
This would probably be the last time he ever saw these glittering skyscrapers, he thought. 
He would have to leave soon. It wouldn’t be long now before Helga and Stjarnagarm arrived. 
He was a little surprised to find he felt no emotion at leaving this room—his workplace of so many years—or even at bidding farewell to his role as executive chairman. 
In the end, Madiath Mesa hadn’t changed in the slightest since that day so long ago. 
That sentimental, stupid day. 
Neither the student council president back then nor the head of the Yachigusa family was still alive. He hadn’t taken any direct action against them, but it was he nonetheless who had seen to their demise. As he had expected, it hadn’t done anything to make him feel better, but he couldn’t just let them go. 
“Now then, on to my final task.” 
He brushed his fingers against the terminal at his desk, opening an air-window. 
A formal notice of withdrawal from the tournament and the semifinal match appeared before him. 
If he acknowledged it, the first match of the day would have to be canceled. 
Which was why he rejected it, sending it back to his subordinates to revise. 
There was nothing particularly unusual about this course of action. 
It was common enough for the Executive Committee to work to persuade contestants and the schools to do one thing or another whenever something got in the way of the tournament’s business interests. Nonetheless, such procedures were time sensitive, and they couldn’t force a contestant to do anything against their will. 
It was probably futile to try to change his mind like this. 
“…We’ll just need to take a different approach, then,” Madiath said with a soft chuckle as he entered a number into his mobile. 
“It’s been a while,” he began. “I don’t suppose I could have a minute of your time?”