6
By the time they left the West Wind guild house, the sky was already madder red.
Even if it wasn’t as busy as their old world, Akiba was lively, even at sunset. Peddlers looking for lodgings. Street stalls that prided themselves on flavor, selling side dishes for the evening meal. Adventurers returning to their bases from outlying fields.
Shiroe and Akatsuki walked side by side through a mixed, milling crowd of Adventurers and People of the Earth.
He gazed absently at the foot traffic. Soujirou’s words—Elder Tales–like—overlapped with the orange-tinted scenery. He’d probably been talking about the time when all they’d done was look at things through a display screen. However, the crowd he was watching now didn’t seem anything like what it had been in the game.
What had made Soujirou choose those particular words? Shiroe hadn’t yet come into contact with a Genius. For that reason, he didn’t understand what the other young man had been trying to say, or what he’d felt.
“My liege.”
They’d probably been walking for about ten minutes.
Shiroe registered the passage of time less as the sensation that time had passed than as a result of their having changed locations.
He’d gotten lost in thought, only to have been pulled back to the present by Akatsuki’s questioning voice and her cutely tugging at his sleeve.
Realizing that, at some point, he’d forgotten she was there, Shiroe came to a halt.
“Hmm? What, Akatsuki?”
She was gazing up into his face. Looking thoughtful, she asked, “Are you tired, my liege?”
“Huh? Why? No, not at all.”
“I see.”
Shiroe answered quickly on reflex, and Akatsuki’s reply was as laconic as ever. Just after the Catastrophe, Shiroe would have worked hard to keep the conversation going, but he didn’t often think that way anymore. Akatsuki probably wasn’t looking for witty conversation. She’d just been genuinely worried about him. Shiroe understood that now.
When he looked up, feeling the same way he’d felt when they walked along that beach, Akiba was beautiful in the sunset.
Possibly because of the rain that had fallen yesterday, the April greenery was particularly glossy, and it gleamed, reflecting the deep-red evening sun. An early pub had lit orange Firefly Lamps and begun to call in customers, and Adventurers filtered through its door in twos and threes.
Because of the ancient trees and abandoned cars, visibility on the central avenue was poor compared with its counterpart in Akihabara on Earth. Nevertheless, street stalls selling grilled skewers and fried foods were lined up on the road’s mossy shoulders, creating a warm atmosphere.
This was evening in Akiba.
Shiroe and Akatsuki stood where they were and gazed at it for a while.
There was a light tug on the hem of his clothes, and Akatsuki whispered, “Something smells very good, my liege.”
It was probably the aroma of fried bean-jam buns.
Akatsuki’s reaction struck Shiroe as funny, and he laughed a little.
“I didn’t say that because I wanted you to buy me some, my liege.”
“I didn’t think you had.”
“Good.”
At that answer, Shiroe remembered the scene at the West Wind Brigade a little while earlier.
Akatsuki, who was taciturn and, if he’d had to say, shy, had seemed pretty friendly with Nazuna back there. She hadn’t been like that before. At the very least, he didn’t think Akatsuki had actively interacted with anyone outside Log Horizon before he’d left Akiba.
“Do you go out and have fun with Nazuna?”
“Yes. She knows lots of good restaurants.”
“I see.”
Akatsuki’s voice seemed mildly animated, and Shiroe nodded.
Apparently, her circle of friends was growing.
“It’s not just Nazuna. Riezé, Mikakage, and the princess go, too.”
“Is that right…?”
Shiroe nodded, but he was pretty startled.
Of course, he knew that if he actually looked startled, Akatsuki would sulk, so he didn’t let it show in his expression. He didn’t, but still, that was a rather revolutionary step forward. The names Akatsuki had given included members of the West Wind Brigade, D.D.D., and—if he remembered right—the Roderick Trading Company. And on top of that, Princess Raynesia.
Before he’d departed for the north to negotiate with the Kunie clan, Shiroe remembered, he’d asked Akatsuki to guard Princess Raynesia.
“Quite a lot happened while you were gone, my liege.”
“I see.”
Just as Shiroe had gained a variety of things in the Abyssal Shaft, Akatsuki had apparently acquired lots of things in Akiba.
Technology, organizations of self-government, and monsters weren’t the only things that had changed after the Catastrophe. Shiroe and the others were changing, too. It wasn’t simply in the sense of levels or mastering Mysteries. It was in places that were difficult to see: ties to other people. Shiroe, who hadn’t thought about things from that perspective before, remembered his expedition to the north.
Naotsugu, the friend who’d gone with him the whole way. Tetora, who’d gotten friendly with them in the blink of an eye and now walked around like the ruler of the guild house. William, the guild master of Silver Sword. Kinjo of the Kunie clan. The magic researcher, Li Gan… And Demiquas.
Good encounters and bad ones resonated together, and before long, they’d connected.
He was sure it wouldn’t be in vain.
When he looked down, Akatsuki responded with an “Uh-huh.” The evening sun was sinking slowly. It was time to return to the guild hall for dinner.
“Shiroeee.”
Just as they were passing in front of the guild center, a girl’s voice rang out. It wasn’t Akatsuki’s.
“Minori.”
Minori came trotting up to the two of them. She was dressed in street clothes, a blouse and necktie, instead of the miko outfit she wore when she was going adventuring.
“Hmph. And it was such a good atmosphere, too…”
“Shiroe, Akatsuki, are you on your way home?”
Minori fell in beside the two of them, walking with light, skipping steps. She looked up at Shiroe from the side opposite Akatsuki, and she was smiling. She seemed to be in a good mood today.
“That’s right. Is your part-time job over, Minori?”
“Yes. They gave me souvenirs today.”
“Today, too, you mean,” Akatsuki corrected glumly.
Both of Minori’s hands held bags that were stuffed with groceries and medicines.
They were probably things she’d been given at the Production Guild Liaison Committee and the Round Table Adventure Agency, where she worked part-time.
Minori boasted a talent for clerical work that was far beyond her years, and they’d heard that both offices treasured her as a first-rate resource. She was good-natured and polite, and she was idolized even at the contact windows.
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