My Happy Marriage (LN) - Volume 8 - Chapter 1.0

When the Long Rains Abate

“Dang, someone’s tired, huh? Just married, and you already look like death warmed over.”

These were the first words out of Zen Koumyouin’s mouth when he met with Kiyoka.

It was noon on a weekday, and a balmy spring atmosphere had settled over the lounge of the Imperial Hotel, the kind that put one to sleep.

There were only a handful of other people around since it was still early for guests to arrive.

This was the capital’s largest and most expensive luxury hotel, so naturally, it catered to a wealthy clientele. Well-dressed men and women of all ages, from both Japan and abroad, were scattered about the lounge enjoying their tea and coffee, or just having a pleasant chat.

Kiyoka took a seat on the edge of a foreign-made armchair and faced his former senior officer.

“…Just drop it, please,” he said curtly, giving a sigh.

Koumyouin repeatedly blinked his eyes.

“Whether it’s becoming the unit commander or getting hitched, you really never change, do you?”

“Should I take that as an insult?”

“C’mon now, don’t get mad.”

Kiyoka directed a look of exasperation at Koumyouin as the man guffawed.

The wedding ceremony to his long-betrothed fiancée Miyo had been held two days ago. The weather had been on their side, being right when the cherry blossom petals began to fall, and everyone he was acquainted with had said it was a wonderful wedding.

Kiyoka was relieved it had all somehow managed to come together; he’d been so busy on the day of the ceremony, to say nothing of the period leading up to it, that he’d almost missed his own wedding.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to so much as catch his breath since.

There was a plateful of matters that needed his special attention; from those that pertained to his private life, such as making courtesy calls and thanking the ceremony guests, to those that pertained to work, such as investigating and dealing with the leg of the Earth Spider, which had nearly ruined his wedding day.

It was little wonder he looked tired. And in truth, Kiyoka felt a profound physical exhaustion.

However, he still questioned whether Koumyouin should be telling a newly married man he looked like “death warmed over.”

Koumyouin was as tactless as ever.

Though…he’s definitely gotten older.

Kiyoka had known the man for quite a long time.

Koumyouin had been a member of the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit ever since Kiyoka had first started collaborating with them.

In those days, he’d had the air of a rowdy young man, but any vestige of that was now long gone.

Although his rough features and toned physique hadn’t changed, there were now tiny wrinkles etched around his keen, scarred eyes, and there were strands of white in his disheveled hair. His way of speaking and mannerisms were still plenty uncouth, but something was clearly different about him.

This was likely because he was getting up there in age himself, and…

“I’ve only been away for a few years, but it feels like the capital’s changed a whole lot since I’ve been gone,” Koumyouin softly murmured, gazing out of the large lounge window.

“…It’s expanding and growing every day.”

Buildings were being reconstructed in Western style left and right, paved roads and gas streetlights were becoming more and more commonplace, and the fashion of the people’s outfits changed with dizzying regularity.

The change was striking, even in just a few years’ time. Kiyoka could sympathize with what Koumyouin must have been feeling—that the capital had become a different world entirely after he’d been gone for only a short while.

“I know it’s a little late to ask, but are you sure it was all right for you to come here today? It’s just, you know, you must have a lot to do, right?” said Koumyouin.

“Yes, I don’t have much time to spare. But I have enough flexibility to take a half day off.”

“I get I may not be the best guy to say this, but…that deathly look on your face ain’t too convincing. Anyway, try to relax a little on this half day off of yours. Don’t you worry about me.”

“You know that’s an unreasonable ask…”

“Sorry, unreasonable stuff is all I ever ask for.”

Kiyoka sighed at Koumyouin, who leaned back in his chair with a smile.

“That’s not something to be proud about.”

“I ain’t proud or anything. It’s just how I am.”

“Fair enough,” Kiyoka replied brusquely, lacking the energy to protest any further.

A brief silence fell over them. On the low table in front of them, a cup filled with black coffee let off thin strips of steam, carrying the beverage’s signature aroma.

Perhaps it was because he was sitting with an old friend like Koumyouin, but Kiyoka started to feel slightly sentimental.

“If only he were here, too,” Koumyouin mumbled.

Kiyoka hadn’t been expecting to hear that. He slowly looked up. Koumyouin was gazing out the window with a vaguely lonesome expression on his face.

For a second there, I could have sworn I’d blurted out my own feelings.

Kiyoka had thought the same thing. If only he—Itsuto Godou—were there with them.

At times like this, Itsuto would always read the room, knowing whether to calm things down or liven them up. He was the sort of person who immediately jumped to mind when one thought about how to interact with others considerately.

There wasn’t anyone out there who had his gently squinting smile or drawling way of talking.

He had always worn a cheerful smile. He’d been a bright and caring man with a graceful and supple strength to him.

“Kiyoka, Gifts aren’t meant to be used to harm people. We’ve got ’em to protect people. Never forget that.”

That man had taught him a valuable lesson about being a Gift-user. Which was why—

“I wish he could have come to the ceremony.”

Kiyoka unconsciously expressed his true feelings. However, Koumyouin didn’t laugh at him at all.

“Yeah. He would’ve been happier than anyone to hear about you getting married.”

“…”

Rather than voice his agreement or disagreement, Kiyoka simply looked at Koumyouin’s hand, resting on the man’s left knee.

His left leg was missing from the knee down. Koumyouin must have been wearing a prosthetic at the moment. That fateful day, he had been seriously wounded, and there had been no choice but to amputate it.

Even now, the memories of that day were fresh in Kiyoka’s mind.

The day when Kiyoka lost someone precious to him, and he was pushed to find the resolve to completely change his life.

The weather outside was beautiful, and yet he could hear the sound of rain. The din of a downpour, loud and heavy, slamming into the thicket of trees.

If you asked him about his dreams for the future, he’d be hard-pressed for a response.

He liked to read books and research things he didn’t know about. He was interested in history. He was also interested in literature. Along with old buildings and works of art. Ruins and gravesites. For as long as he could remember, he had been excited by studying the path humanity had walked.

However, he was at a loss as to whether he wanted to make any of those interests into a lifelong career.

This was what Kiyoka Kudou was like during his student days.

He had no clear idea of what he wanted to be or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t certain about anything, really.

He just aimlessly continued to pursue knowledge, with the vague idea that he might become a researcher someday.

On the side, he would face off against Grotesqueries to fulfill his duty as a Gift-user. This was the sort of life he had been leading.

“All right, I’ll add this payment to the total and give it to you at the end of the month like usual. Thanks for your help with this incident.”

Kiyoka let out a sigh of relief in the tidy reception room of the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit station. Though the space was rather plain, it still had a fair number of expensive furnishings.

In front of him, Commander Itsuto Godou pressed his confirmation stamp down on the documents.

“…Yessir. Thank you very much.”

“Appreciate the help today. You’re always so diligent, no matter what sort of request I have for you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Kiyoka gave a curt reply to Itsuto’s broad, bright smile.

The Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit had been established several decades ago to incorporate Gift-users—individuals who had made their living exterminating Grotesqueries since time immemorial—into the military’s fighting forces.

Like their forebears, the Gift-users of the military specialized in resolving incidents involving Grotesqueries. However, in the event of a national crisis, they would also be obliged to form a fighting force, using their Gifts on hostile forces to protect the populace and country. In that way, the Gift-users of the current age in the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit were quite different from the Gift-users of antiquity.

The current leader of the unit was the man sitting across from Kiyoka, Itsuto Godou. He was a superb Gift-user from the Godou family, a prestigious clan of Gift-users.

“Ha-ha-ha.” Itsuto laughed abruptly.

“…What is it?”

“I’m just thinking that you’ve really turned into a fine man, is all. You used to be a tiny little fella who could never get his Gift to work right, and now look at you.”

“That was a long time ago.”

Godou stared into the distance with a profound look in his eyes as he reminisced, coming off a bit like a sentimental old man.

Still, Kiyoka couldn’t deny that Itsuto was something of an older brother or father figure to him.

They had known each other for over ten years.

Kiyoka’s father, Tadakiyo Kudou, was a busy man as both a Gift-user and head of the Kudou family. Yet because of his weak constitution and demanding obligations, he’d never had much to do with his son Kiyoka or his daughter Hazuki.

As the heir of the Kudou Family, Kiyoka should have been learning how the head of the family conducted himself by watching his father.

Given his father’s situation, however, that didn’t happen very often.

With that in mind, from a young age Kiyoka had frequented the Godou household to receive guidance and coaching from Itsuto.

There, he learned not only the techniques and mindset he would need as a Gift-user, but also the knowledge required to lead other Gift-users.

Most of the things he couldn’t gain through self-teaching, he had learned from Itsuto.

“…That reminds me, what is Yoshito up to? I know he’s studying abroad,” Kiyoka asked Godou, hoping to steer the conversation away from its awkward trajectory.

Kiyoka didn’t have a particularly deep relationship with the man’s son, Yoshito. He would occasionally spend time with him when going to and from the Godou estate.

“Ah,” Itsuto replied dully, giving a strained smile. “That boy, well… I’m sure he’s doing fine. He doesn’t send a single word my way, but my wife gets a letter from him every now and then.”

“…I see.”

“He’s rebelled against me at every damn turn, you see. He swore to me, ‘I’m never gonna turn into a Gift-user like you,’ and zipped right off to study abroad.”

Kiyoka let his eyes wander, unsure how he was supposed to respond to all of this. At the same time, the look in Itsuto’s eyes seemed to drift farther and farther into the distance.

“He went off on me about how the Gift-users in this country are behind the times and how he’s gonna go learn about Gifts and arts in a country that’s way more advanced than ours, but all of that had to be to spite me, huh? Ha-ha.”

“I…”

Kiyoka almost replied in agreement before swallowing his words.

He recalled having the urge to do something to spite his parents before.

Kiyoka had almost no memories of spending time with his father, and his daily life was quite stifling, since his uptight mother always tried to force him to conform to her image of an ideal son.

Itsuto must have looked after his children more than Tadakiyo had Kiyoka. On top of that, while his wife certainly had some strange qualities, she was a loving and caring person.

Yoshito’s opposition to his parents surely had to come from a place of loneliness; but he also might have had his own vexations about the fact he was the second son, yet he still had to live up to the expectations people had for him as a Gift-user.

“I can tell from the look on your face that you have something to say.”

Itsuto had noticed Kiyoka lapsing into thought. But there was no way Kiyoka would tell the man just what had been on his mind now.

After all, Kiyoka himself had more complaints about his elders than he could count.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing.”

After pausing briefly when Kiyoka evaded his question, Itsuto asked him another.

“Listen—”

Not this again. Exasperated, Kiyoka sidestepped Itsuto and interrupted him.

“If this is another invite to join the Unit, I’m not interested.”

“What? I haven’t said anything yet.”

“You always bring that up at times like these.”

“Well, you’ve got me there.”

Kiyoka let out a sigh and lightly touched the bag in which he carried his bamboo sword. He heard a tiny metallic ring from inside.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I have no interest in becoming a military man.”

“Can you at least…tell me why?” Itsuto said with furrowed brows, like a parent reprimanding a naughty child. Kiyoka had long grown tired of this face and this question.

He really doesn’t know when to give up. How many years will this go on?

Kiyoka respected and relied on Itsuto, but the man’s dogged persistence in this area really got on his nerves.

“I’m not cut out for the military.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Given how different my personality is from yours, I’d just sow disorder in the Unit if I joined.”

He knew his own character better than anyone.

Kiyoka was not the type to be well-liked by others. He was neither adept at interpersonal relationships, nor did he particularly want them. While perhaps not impossible, he was certain he could not get along well in a pre-established group, especially the military, where cooperation and coordination were key.

“It’s about time you realized that,” Kiyoka told him, consciously trying to discourage Itsuto as payback for what he had said earlier.

“But if you did, I’d be able to feel a lot more at ease when Yoshito comes back and joins the unit…”

Nevertheless, Itsuto spoke once again as if trying to motivate a child to do something.

Their gazes locked, and the two of them stared at each other in silence. The same utterly intractable differences. They would never be able to resolve this problem.

“Lemme ask you, then.”

Godou was the first one to break the apparent deadlock.

“Why are you so against joining the military? You’re going to keep exterminating Grotesqueries as a Gift-user from here on out, right?”

“…”

“In that case, what’s so different about doing it as part of the military? If you’re serious about carrying out your obligation as a Gift-user, then any interpersonal problems you have are trivial things to worry about.”

“Well…”

If Kiyoka was being honest, Itsuto had hit upon a sore spot of his.

Kiyoka had started working as a Gift-user when he was in middle school. It was entirely in rebellion against his parents and purely out of a desire to become independent as fast as possible.

He didn’t know why, but if he graduated from college and simply accepted the invite into the military, he thought he’d start to feel like he was undercutting the part of himself.

As if the vision of himself he had built up until now would be fundamentally destroyed.

Why is it, then?

He didn’t resent fulfilling his duty as a Gift-user. Yet despite that, he disliked the idea of joining the military.

“Or is it that you have some sort of dream outside of working as a Gift-user?

“A dream?”

“Yeah. If so, then I won’t try to persuade you anymore. I’ll send less work your way, too. Young guys like you should be pouring everything they’ve got into their dreams.”

“…”

Kiyoka kept silent.

He had never once thought about his dreams before. Exterminating Grotesqueries and acting as the head of the Kudous to protect the family were duties imposed on him, and any other work was of secondary importance.

Although he was resistant to joining the military, he didn’t actually have other aspirations, and it was at a point where he thought he may as well stay enrolled at college and continue with his studies. However, he felt that he couldn’t really call that a “dream.”

“Whatever the case may be, Kiyoka, you don’t have much time until you graduate. This is the perfect opportunity to think about your future, wouldn’t you say?”

“…I’ll give it some thought. If you’ll excuse me.”

Nodding slightly at Itsuto’s words, Kiyoka got up from the sofa and shouldered his sword-carrying bag. He then departed from the reception room without looking Itsuto in the eye.

My dreams for the future.

The notion still didn’t really resonate with him. Sighing, he walked through the station hallway, the floor squeaking under his feet.

The sky was gloomy and overcast outside the window, the evening sun blocked by the clouds. It was as though the weather was expressing the confusion in Kiyoka’s heart.

When he walked to the station entrance, he saw a few members of the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit coming back from their patrol.

Kiyoka merely thanked them for their service and had started to walk away when suddenly, one of the men called out to him.

“Oh, hey there, Kiyoka.”

“…Mr. Koumyouin.”

“Whoa, what’s with the long face?”

With his boorish air, Koumyouin took off his military cap as he approached. He must have been coming back from patrol as well.

“Is that…really how I look?”

“Oh yeah, it sure is. Where’d your usual cocky and composed look go?”

Personally, Kiyoka hadn’t intended to take what Itsuto had said to him too seriously. But if Koumyouin, who was far from observant, had noticed the change in him, then the talk about Kiyoka’s dreams of the future must have reverberated within him far more profoundly than he had thought.

“Did the commander have something to say to you?”

“Not really.”

“Your face tells a different story. We all know the commander—he wouldn’t say anything to really hurt you.”

“That’s true. I’m not particularly hurt.”

“Then something’s troubling you, huh? Don’t tell me you’re finally interested in joining the unit.”

Like Itsuto, Koumyouin had persistently tried to persuade Kiyoka to join. Kiyoka had curtly turned him down several times already, but the man showed no sign of giving up.

It really irritated Kiyoka how perceptive Koumyouin was at this moment, despite his usual thick-headedness.

“…That’s not it,” Kiyoka responded.

“Hold on, you usually you shoot me down without hesitation, but you paused for a second there, didn’t you? So, you’re reall—”

“If you’ll excuse me.”

Kiyoka forced the conversation to an early end and rushed out of the station.

A nebulous irritation welled up from deep inside his chest. He wondered what it was about. Was it because being asked about his dreams for the future made him feel like he was being treated like a child? Or perhaps it was because he felt like he had been told he was boring for not having even one dream of his own.

Maybe it was all these things at once.

It’s too late to do something about it at this point. I can’t think of anything.

Right now, Kiyoka Kudou was a man over twenty years in the making. As far as he was concerned, it was irresponsible for Itsuto to burden him like this, rejecting who he was and telling him to rethink his future.

After all, it was Itsuto and Koumyouin themselves who’d developed Kiyoka as a Gift-user.

Overwhelmed by these feelings of helplessness, Kiyoka made his way home.

The evening sky had gone dark, and the low-hanging, charcoal-colored clouds began to cover the land in a thick, heavy darkness.

The Kudou estate was located in a residential area inside the capital, not too far from the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit station.

“I’m home.”

“Welcome home, Young Master.”

“Welcome home.”

Yurie and several of the other servants greeted Kiyoka as he came through the door. Kiyoka entrusted the bag he carried to Yurie and immediately headed for his room on the second floor.

“Yurie… How are things going in the house?”

“The Master is resting in his room, and the Mistress is by his side. Miss Hazuki…is in her room, too.” Yurie relayed this with the composure of a veteran housemaid, but she also appeared to be a bit forlorn.

“I see.”

When did things get this way? No, perhaps they have always been like this.

The fate of Kiyoka and the fate of this house had been predestined from the very beginning, with no room for hope or any dreams of the future.

Kiyoka turned to Yurie.

“Please bring tonight’s dinner up to my room… Until then, please don’t call for me.”

“As you wish.”

After watching Yurie bow to him, he walked up the stairs and entered his room.

The silent interior hadn’t changed much since he was young. There was a desk, a chair, a big bookshelf with double doors, and a bed.

Agh, it’s suffocating.

Kiyoka lay down on the bed without changing clothes and exhaled, covering his eyes with a hand.

No matter where he went, the unbearable heaviness in his chest never abated.

He felt hopelessly out of breath, as if everywhere he found himself in was a hollow cave, or like he had run out of oxygen at the bottom of the sea, or like he was caught in a quagmire and was slowly sinking into the muck.

He felt he had lived his life entirely dictated by others, and now he was being told he needed dreams of his own.

Could something that unreasonable really be being asked of him?

Couldn’t he simply live by following his mission with straightforwardness and loyalty?

It felt like his leaden body was being swallowed whole by the bed, merging with it. His head and chest felt heavy, and he couldn’t even muster the energy to move a finger.

In the past, he was sure he’d thought about so much more. Everything around him had seemed far more exciting and far more radiant. But now, his thoughts only spun in aimless circles.

The warm rays of the sun beamed down.

In its glow was a beautifully kept flower bed, abloom with tiny flowers of red, white, yellow, and orange, with bees and butterflies flying through and above it.

Kiyoka stood next to the flower bed, atop a blindingly vivid lawn, his hands held in the air over his head.

Around his fingertips, the air was dimly oscillating to and fro. A heat haze. That single bit of space was fantastically hot compared to the atmosphere around it.

From the heat haze, gently rising and distorting the scenery, a tiny flame began to emerge.

The flame, unstable at first, extinguishing and igniting itself, at last began to burn with stability, gradually growing into a ball of fire that hovered in the air.

Once there, the temperature began to drop dramatically. The flame went out in an instant, and a biting chill started taking hold. The temperature dropped, and the air began to freeze, creating a white fog.

Kiyoka separated his raised hands slightly, maintaining the cold air with one hand and generating a fireball with the other, then slammed them together.

The flame and frost offset each other, and they instantly evaporated.

“All right, I did it!”

Having successfully used his Gift exactly as he envisioned it, Kiyoka let out a cry of excitement.

“How was that, Teacher?!”

“Oh wow! Nice job.”

Itsuto Godou lightly clapped his hands.

When Kiyoka was around ten years old, he would frequent the Godou family manor. There, Itsuto would teach him how to use his Gift, and the sword, to fight Grotesqueries.

“Wowww! That was awesome, big brother Kiyo!”

Itsuto’s young son Yoshito was in high spirits, imitating his father by clapping his chubby child’s hands together with sparkles in his eyes.

“You’re doing amazing, Kiyoka. That must be because you have such a great teacher, eh?”

“Yessir! That might be part of it, but it could also be because I did so well while practicing on my own, too.”

Kiyoka had allowed his own elation to dictate his response to Itsuto, who was nodding triumphantly.

“Well, someone’s confident, isn’t he? Oh yeah, you’re gonna be a big deal. If you can handle your Gift that well, then you’ll have no trouble using it in real combat, and your sword skills would put most adults to shame already.”

“Really?!”

“Yup, really. Might be a bit soon, but I think you could work as a full-fledged Gift-user in just a few years from now. Probably.”

“Hooray!”

Kiyoka artlessly followed his heart, clenching his hands in joy.

He never missed his daily training over at the Kudou estate, either, nor did he neglect his studies. His days were busy but fulfilling.

He was pleased that he was becoming more proficient with his Gift and with the sword, and Itsuto’s praise made him happier still, motivating him to work even harder.

“All righty then, I guess sword practice is up next. Get your training sword.”

“Yessir!”

At Godou’s instruction, Kiyoka picked up the wooden sword leaning up against the nearby wall. And at that moment, Yoshito let out a wail.

“Awww! No way! Dad, you’re hogging big brother Kiyo! Play with me next instead!”

Walking over with tight steps, Yoshito pulled on Kiyoka’s sleeve.

“Er, Yoshito. Your dad and I aren’t playing…”

“You’re not gonna play with me…?”

“I’ll play with you, but it’s time for me to practice right now, so…”

“Unnnh.”

Yoshito scrunched up his face, and large tears began to well up in his eyes. Kiyoka saw what was coming, but it was too late.

“Waaaaah! Play with me, big brother Kiyo! I wanna play, too!”

In the face of Yoshito’s bawling, Kiyoka went stock-still, confused about what he was supposed to do. Looking on from the side, he saw Itsuto clutching his stomach in laughter. Now was clearly no time to practice.

“Um, Teacher? Please don’t just stand there laughing. Help me!”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Sorry, sorry. It was just too funny.”

Unsure what was so amusing, Kiyoka stared at Itsuto, who had begun to cry in laughter, half from confusion and half exasperation.

Then they heard a woman’s voice call to them from nearby.

“Boyyys! It’s time for a tea break!”

It was Itsuto’s wife. Kiyoka could make her out from afar, wearing a dress, and next to her was Yoshito’s older brother.

“Okay, how about we save the sword practice for after the break. Come on, you two.”

Pulling the crying Yoshito by the hand, Itsuto patted Kiyoka on the head and ruffled his hair with a slightly rough, yet kind, touch.

Kiyoka’s cheeks grew hot.

The only time he could act like a kid his age was when he went over to the Godous’.

At their place, there was no one to force ideals, expectations, or duties on him, and no women to stare at him covetously, either.

“Teacher, I want to hurry back to sword practice.”

“Someone’s raring to go, eh? But taking breaks is just as important as practicing, okay? Ha-ha-ha!”

Hearing Itsuto’s big-hearted laughter made Kiyoka happy, and his lips naturally curled into a smile.

Once he graduated from elementary school, he would get a lot busier with schoolwork and would no longer be able to come to this house like he did now. But that was a few years off. Kiyoka silently swore to cherish this time while he could.

As Kiyoka opened his eyes and slowly raised himself up, he saw that it was already dark out.

He glanced at the clock and saw that an hour had passed by since he had gotten back from the Anti-Grotesquerie Unit station. He must have dozed off after letting himself sink into bed.

A nostalgic fragment of a memory hung faintly in the back of his mind.

“…Haah.”

Why have things ended up like this?

Kiyoka flopped back down onto the bed once more. He hadn’t been overcome with drowsiness. The melancholy of reality had simply taken control of his body. That was how he felt.

The bell for the end of school rang out across the college campus.

A tranquil and leisurely afternoon. With his course over, Kiyoka gathered his belongings and left the lecture room, ignoring the other students noisily chatting away.

“Kudou.”

After taking just a few steps into the corridor, a voice stopped him from behind.

Turning, he saw the elderly professor who had just been standing at the podium of his class approach him with a wave.

“Good afternoon. Thank you for the lecture.”

“Of course.”

The professor stopped before Kiyoka, who fixed him with a suspicious stare.

Curious as to the cause, the professor turned his gentle eyes on Kiyoka and smiled.

“It’s still being graded, but I got a chance to read that essay I assigned you recently.”

“Oh…I see.”

“It was well written. Your research attended to the smallest details, and your examples were properly laid out, too… Your position was pretty good as well.”

“Thank you very much.”

Though he made sure to maintain a straight face, inwardly, Kiyoka felt genuine satisfaction at the praise.

He hadn’t put any extra effort into the paper that he had handed in the day prior, but the points that the professor had praised were areas Kiyoka was especially attentive toward.

Putting aside the pastimes of the rich, it was only the truly passionate about studying who usually stayed enrolled in school until college, so to have the professor go out of his way to praise his essay like this must have meant that he was especially brilliant among his peers.

The professor gave a strained, slightly troubled smile.

“All my students do a good job tackling the topic, but oftentimes, their perspectives will be surprisingly absurd, or they’ll get too impassioned and make leaps in logic. Your paper was well-grounded, but it still surprised me. Brilliantly done.”

“…You’re too kind.”

“It’s a bit early, but have you decided on the subject material for your graduation thesis?”

“Yes, generally speaking.”

“Your major was, history, if I recall correctly. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, but…?”

The professor was researching a field that was slightly removed from what Kiyoka was majoring in. He shouldn’t have had much to do with Kiyoka’s graduation thesis or his major.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to let you know that if there’s anything I can help you with when you write your paper, feel free to ask… One more thing.”

The professor paused for a moment before continuing.

“We’ve invited a renowned foreign researcher to come and give a lecture soon. If you’re interested, I thought you could join, too.”

“A lecture?”

“Yes. Since you’re researching this country’s history, it likely won’t serve as a direct reference for your own work, but I thought it might be stimulating for you or could provide a flash of inspiration.”

This sort of invitation was also proof that his performance at school was being recognized; the thought exhilarated him.

Learning had never been hard for him, though. Also, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t have any interest in research from abroad.

The question was whether it would be possible to shift around his personal schedule—his other classes, homework, and his Grotesquerie extermination work—to spare the time for the lecture.

Kiyoka instantly ran through his upcoming schedule in his head.

It’s not impossible, but…it’ll be a bit tight.

Also, it seemed like it would be a tremendous waste of an opportunity to flatly reject the professor’s offer.

“Thank you for the invitation. I’ll consider it.”

In the end, Kiyoka had replied to the professor without coming to an immediate conclusion. The professor nodded in satisfaction as Kiyoka lapsed into thought and excused himself.

A lecture. Hmm…

If he could swing it, he wanted to go.

He’d been staying on top of his coursework, and he also had some extra leeway in his research. As for his Gift-user work, as long as he picked easier requests that could be resolved quickly, he ought to be able to wrap everything up without it bumping into the day of the lecture.

“Or is it that you have some sort of dream outside of working as a Gift-user?”

“If so, then I won’t try to persuade you anymore. I’ll send less work your way, too. Young guys like you should be pouring everything they’ve got into their dreams.”

Itsuto’s words from the previous day echoed in his mind.

Could this be called a dream?

As a matter of fact, the professor at the research lab he belonged to had also asked him whether he was interested in graduate school.

Though he felt the invitations to join the military were annoying, when he’d been recommended to continue on to graduate school, his heart had quivered.

“Hey, Kudou.”

As he walked alone through the hallway filled with the clamor of students getting out of class, thoughts of his future swirling in his head, a voice suddenly called out to him from behind.

“Oh, Chida… How are you?”

He turned around, and a bespectacled man of average build with narrow, beady eyes gave him a wave, coming over to him.

Chida was one year ahead of Kiyoka, and the two belonged to the same research laboratory. He always seemed worried about Kiyoka in some way or another and would often talk to him about this and that.

Kiyoka felt like he was getting stopped every few steps today.

“Heya, wanna come out drinking with me tonight?”

“Again?”

Yes, though it was good of Chida to look after him, he had an unfortunate tendency to invite Kiyoka out to partake in less-than-praiseworthy activities.

His idea of “going out drinking” often included the sort of nighttime entertainment that was unbecoming of a college student.

A great many parents of the students attending college were wealthy, and Chida’s family, who had gained their fortune in the shipbuilding industry, were no exception. Chida received a hefty amount of spending money, with plenty to spare outside of school.

Naturally, that was unacceptable behavior for a student who was supposed to be focusing on coursework.

Despite that, Chida wasn’t the only student on campus to engage in such activities; in fact, the majority of Kiyoka’s peers participated in them, though the extent to which they did so varied. Because of that, Kiyoka didn’t reprimand Chida for it, and he would frequently join him when invited.

“Aw c’mon, what kind of response is that, you sheltered little prince?”

Chida grinned and smacked Kiyoka on the shoulder.

“No, that’s not it.”

It was far too late to have any qualms about accepting Chida’s invitation. Kiyoka had already gone out drinking with him on many occasions by now.

He’d only answered as bluntly as he had because his mind had been elsewhere.

“So, are you coming or not?”

“…I’ll go.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

Chida instantly broke into a broad smile, clapped his hands together, and energetically threw his arm over Kiyoka’s shoulder.

Kiyoka understood very well that this wasn’t a very proper form of leisure, and that it would have been better not to accept Chida’s invitations if possible.

But he didn’t want to go to the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit station, and he didn’t want to go home, either.

I can’t believe how childish I’m being.

It was the same reason he always had for accepting Chida’s invitations: to forget about something that was bothering him. The undeniable truth was that he wanted to cut down the time he spent at the station and the time he spent in that house as much as possible.

The entertainment district at nighttime, unlike during the day, was filled with glitter, energy, and desire.

Ultimately, an early-middle aged professor with a love for dinner parties ended up joining them, along with several of Kiyoka’s upperclassmen and peers, before they sallied out into town.

The light of the gas and electric lamps shimmered like a collection of countless stars, as if to erase the darkness.

The smell of food, stimulating empty stomachs, wafted in from somewhere, and loud, boisterous voices of elation from both men and women reverberated incessantly.

Lead by the professor, the group passed through the front shop curtain of a restaurant they frequented.

They were led to their usual tatami room on the second floor, and kimono-clad waitresses came into the room one after another, lining up dishes on the table.

“All right, let’s drink.”

The beautifully and colorfully dressed women poured sake into the cup in Kiyoka’s hand. The professor gave a shout, and Kiyoka and the others all raised their glasses with a “cheers!”

Kiyoka sat in the seat next to Chida, slightly removed from the seat of honor, drinking from his cup as he picked at the dinner party food.

Once the professor had some sake in him, he began hooting at the geisha’s dances and jabbering nonstop, his guffaws occasionally grating on Kiyoka’s ears.

Still, this is better than going home.

These types of establishments, he thought, provided a better distraction from his thoughts than the station, where he would be hounded to join the unit and asked about the future, and his home, where he felt nothing but suffocation.

“Do you have enough to drink?” asked a woman wearing snow white face powder and bright red lipstick as she approached, filling Kiyoka’s almost dry cup.

When he cast a sidelong glance at her, she looked at him with misty eyes.

“…Thanks.”

He gave a curt reply while looking away from her.

However, the woman wasn’t discouraged in the slightest, and enthusiastically tried to converse with Kiyoka, explaining what the different dishes where, and asking how Kiyoka liked the geisha’s dancing.

Kiyoka felt bad for her, but he hadn’t the slightest interest in geisha entertainment.

As he fended off her unending conversation, the woman appeared to sense his disinterest and quietly departed.

“It wouldn’t kill you to keep her company for a little bit, you know,” Chida said next to him, sounding exasperated.

“…Sorry.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me. How’d things go with that girl you were introduced to?”

Kiyoka couldn’t help making a grimace of disgust.

The woman in question was one who Kiyoka had started socializing with recently. Chida’s friend, another upperclassman, had introduced her to him.

She was eighteen years old and possessed refined features, and though her family wasn’t wealthy, they were respectable enough, having made a living as traders for a long time.

Because she had been recommended to him, they had gone out together half-heartedly on two occasions, but he hadn’t contacted her since.

“…”

“By that look of yours, I’m guessing it went poorly again, didn’t it?”

Chida shrugged in exasperation, taking a casual sip of sake.

“First of all, you’re way too stiff, you know that? You gotta be super considerate to the ladies. In exchange, you get comfort and peace of mind.”

“Sure.”

Kiyoka gave a perfunctory response.

That said, though…

Kiyoka, at least, had never derived any comfort or peace of mind from women before.

If he was nice to them, they would misunderstand things for some reason, and suddenly start to act overly familiar with him.

But Kiyoka wasn’t exactly a social butterfly to begin with.

Consequently, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted when someone tried to get close to him like that, and once he thought that, he would hesitate to approach women and show then any more consideration than necessary.

“Knowing how you operate, I’m sure you must’ve been real blunt with her, right? That ain’t gonna win over any girls, lemme tell you.”

“…Got it.”

“Well, that’s a tepid response. My point goes for that girl just now, too, y’know. She looked pretty hurt. Didn’t you notice?”

Kiyoka followed Chida’s gaze to the beautiful woman who had just been desperately trying to strike up a conversation with him.

“You’re blessed with good looks, so it’s a waste not to use ’em. Give any girl you want just a little bit of a smile, and you’d have her in the palm of your hands.”

“I don’t care. I’m not cut out for that.”

“Huh, you got sulky all of a sudden”

“…That’s not it.”

Kiyoka wasn’t suited for spending time together with other people. He understood that about himself based on the experiences he’d had until now.

That went for anyone he was with, be they women, his family members, or his friends and acquaintances.

“But you hang out with us normally all the time, right? I don’t think you’ve done anything outrageous.”

“That’s just because I’m only ever here together with you and the others.”

“I wonder,” Chida said, exhaling from his nose and pouring more sake for himself. “You’re the kid of a well-to-do family and all, so even you’re gonna end up getting married eventually. How’s that gonna work when you act like this? Do you think you can make things work with a young lady?”

“If it’s something I’m forced to do, then the only option is to do it.”

As he replied to Chida, this was the first time Kiyoka felt like he understood.

His inability to spend time with other people was why he was inclined to pursue being a researcher.

Once he started working, he would be guaranteed to form a deep bond with someone. He would meet with his colleagues on the job every day and be forced to collaborate with them.

Research, however, was the exception; it would let him deal with most things on his own. With both schoolwork and research, he could keep interactions with others to a bare minimum.

If he joined the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit, things wouldn’t work out that way, and the same went for marriage. Both situations could only be realized with the presence of another.

If someone said he was taking the easy road out, they might have been right.

However, was it really that bad to drift in the direction that would allow him to live an easier life?

He intended on fulfilling his duty as a Gift-user as long as his body was capable. Was that not enough?

“You really are missing out, I’m sure of it. C’mon, relax a little. Here, drink up.”

Kiyoka gazed down at the transparent surface of the sake in his cup. The man reflected in it wore a bored, uninterested expression.

“What’s there to complain about? You like studying, right? You’re gonna go on to grad school from here, marry a cutie, take over as head of your family…and live yourself a quiet and comfortable life.”

“…Well, hopefully that will be possible.”

After a short while, the food and drink began to run out, the attendees all became drunk, and the unique atmosphere of a dinner party dying down began to hang in the air.

As people sporadically prepared to head home, Kiyoka, not feeling particularly tipsy himself, supported Chida’s shoulder as he teetered and exited the restaurant.

The professor took care of the bill for the dinner party.

“I ain’t hammered!”

“Yes, yes, I get it. Then make sure to walk properly.”

Kiyoka soothed Chida in front of the restaurant as the man staggered and shouted nonsense.

The late-night entertainment district had taken on a slightly different air from when they had first arrived. There were less people walking the street, the darkness had grown thicker, and the bright lights spilling out from the buildings and street stalls hurt one’s eyes.

The crowd of people had thinned somewhat, and Kiyoka could feel the presence of wriggling Grotesqueries painfully flit across his skin.

Nevertheless, the supernatural entities there were all nearly insignificant riffraff. They wouldn’t cause any harm and didn’t require any action on his part.

“Kudouuu, you going home?”

“Yes, I’m going home… Are you okay, Chida? Can you get back on your own?”

Chida’s house was in the opposite direction of Kiyoka’s. He would have quite a distance to cover.

When Kiyoka asked, Chida assured him that he was fine in a worrying timbre and walked off while lightly waving.

“Later, Kudou. Let’s drink again sometime.”

“Okay. Be careful, Chida.”

Watching as Chida melted into the darkness, Kiyoka began to walk in the opposite direction.

As he moved further away from the entertainment district, the illumination dwindled, and the unreliable light of the gas lamps, placed at infrequent intervals, made it harder to see up ahead.

The thicker the darkness grew, the denser the squirming presence of the Grotesqueries became.

Just then, Kiyoka felt something strange.

He came to a halt, and his hand reached for the sword bag he made a habit of carrying over his shoulder. He opened it up and grasped the hilt.

This presence is…overwhelming.

It was the aura of a mighty Grotesquerie, wholly incomparable to that of the small fry drifting about and strong enough to send a chill down his spine. No, even those words didn’t do it justice.

Kiyoka felt as though an instinctual awe, an instinctual fear, was welling up from the pits of his entrails.

There wasn’t a single person in the vicinity. The paved road had but one streetlight, and it was lined on either side by pitch-black storefronts, newly built in a Western style.

A single strand of cold sweat ran down his temple.

Just where did it come from?

A ghostly aura of this magnitude couldn’t be conjured by your average Grotesquerie.

Furthermore, if it was releasing a ghostly aura so evil it had caused an instinctual reaction, then Kiyoka’s earlier hope about it not posing a threat to humans was as good as smashed to pieces.

It’s very old, Kiyoka estimated, focusing as the strong presence seemed to make the inside of his head numb.

Grotesqueries with auras this powerful were not products of the modern world.

There was no doubt this was a presence that had collected people’s fears for centuries, then spent months and years increasing its power.

Kiyoka gulped loudly.

He took out his favorite sword from the bag on his back and lowered his center of gravity, adopting a stance that would let him unsheathe his blade at a moment’s notice.

Kiyoka’s favorite sword was a magical one he had obtained through a twist of fate. It also chose its wielder. For that reason, it could cut things that a normal blade could not.

The air suddenly stopped moving. The light of the gas lamps flickered and went out.

“There you are!”

Right as he shouted, Kiyoka swiftly drew his sword and slashed at the place where the ghostly aura was most concentrated.

He was surprised to hear the heavy clang of two metallic objects striking each other. He must have hit something quite hard, as he felt a tingling in his hands.

The bigger problem was that he hadn’t been able to cut down the Grotesquerie in a single strike.

As his face twisted from the numbing tingle in his hands, he jumped backward and put space between him and his opponent.

What exactly…am I up against? It’s too dark for me to make out.

There was no question that it was a Grotesquerie. However, he hadn’t gotten a single glimpse of what it looked like or how it had defended against Kiyoka’s slash.

In total darkness, a human like Kiyoka was at an overwhelming disadvantage.

The sense of something moving out in front of him, the movement of the wind—relying solely on these faint sensations, Kiyoka guarded against his opponent’s attack with his sword.

Another intense vibration ran through his blade. There was a hefty weight behind each and every strike.

As their struggle went on, his eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness. With only the pale moonlight, he was able to get a grasp on his opponent’s form.

A person…a monk?

The thing was wearing the stole of a Buddhist monk, black priest robes, and a bamboo hat. Its eyes peaked out from under the brim of its hat, occasionally shining with a slightly red hue. The hand it had used to block Kiyoka’s sword strikes was shaped like the leg of an insect, covered in minute black hairs.

A pewter khakkhara staff lay on the ground nearby, broken in half. It must have taken Kiyoka’s strike and broken in the process.

The creature had done a good job disguising itself as a human, but its eerie appearance was proof that it was a Grotesquerie.

An insect Grotesquerie, and a very old one at that…

His foe’s insect limb was frighteningly hard. At some point, its other hand took the same shape as well, which it used to send one attack after the other at Kiyoka.

Though he managed to dodge and parry the blows, he was keenly aware that he was rapidly growing fatigued.

“Hnrk…!”

The source of his exhaustion was the thick, oppressive ghost aura that the Grotesquerie was exuding.

Gift-users like Kiyoka had some amount of resistance to it, so he was still able to keep himself conscious. However, if the average person came into contact with a monster like this, they would immediately go insane or even die, depending on the circumstances.

Such was the strength of the negative power contained within this Grotesquerie.

On top of that, the nimble, heavy attacks that it kept launching at Kiyoka were easily capable of ripping apart a human body. If just single one connected, he would be finished.

For the time being, Kiyoka put a large amount of distance between them, steadying his breath and adjusting his grip on his sword while his foe closed in.

Get a grip. With this sword…I should be able to seriously wound it.

A simple strike wouldn’t do. He needed to focus harder and put more of his strength behind it.

The previously expressionless monk broke into an amused and repulsive smile as he continued heading for Kiyoka.

The Grotesquerie then shot out its limbs right in front of Kiyoka.

That very instant, he flashed his blade, slicing the Grotesquerie and sliding it through the air.

A scream echoed. Kiyoka winced at the murky shriek, completely inhuman and unbearable on the ears. Having lost one of its insectoid limbs, the Grotesquerie bent over and writhed in agony before his eyes.

Kiyoka immediately swung his sword up to deliver the finishing blow.

However, the Grotesquerie had grown cunning with age. It dodged Kiyoka’s final stab by a hair’s breadth, and all of a sudden, Kiyoka sensed several people approaching.

“Kiyoka!”

He didn’t turn around to see who called him, never taking an eye off the Grotesquerie. Nevertheless, he surmised that he had missed his opportunity to finish it off.

This looks like the best I can do.

Right after dodging Kiyoka’s attack, the Grotesquerie had started to retreat. He didn’t sense any more attacks coming at him, either, perhaps because the creature had lost one of its arms. Even if he attempted to close the distance between him and his foe, it would likely get away before he could catch up to it.

As these thoughts swirled through his head, the Grotesquerie in monk’s garb left, vanishing into the darkness and leaving only the red glow of its eyes behind.

“Kiyoka, where did it go?!”

Itsuto came running over holding a bright lamp to illuminate the area, his combat boots echoing loudly. He wore a frantic look, and he seemed uncharacteristically panicked.

“It escaped.”

Hearing Kiyoka’s plain statement of the facts, Itsuto groaned with frustration.

“Couldn’t finish it off, huh…”

Kiyoka finally returned his cherished sword back to its sheath, placed it back in the bag, and slung that over his shoulder. Next, he turned to Itsuto.

There was something off about the man’s behavior and way of speaking. Itsuto seemed to be on the absolute brink. Though the escaped creature was definitely no ordinary Grotesquerie, it was unusual for him to be quite so ill at ease.

Why had he rushed out all this way in the first place? Kiyoka hadn’t contacted the station, and with no one around nearby, it was hard to believe someone had reported the situation.

“…Why are you here, Mr. Godou?”

“Well, we’ve been beefing up the nighttime patrols lately. I just got word from one of the guys on patrol that he felt an unusual ghostly aura.”

Even if that was the case, the commander wouldn’t have needed to come out himself.

“Mr. Godou, do you know what exactly that thing was?”

When Kiyoka posed this question, Itsuto gave him a pained look, avoiding Kiyoka’s eyes and answering incoherently.

“I never imagined that thing would still be out there, trying to harm people… It’s hard to believe. Or more like, I don’t want to believe it.”

“What…?”

“Will we really be able to handle it? Can we even fight it and win?”

Godou’s words didn’t seem to be directed at Kiyoka; instead, he seemed to be asking this of himself.

“Mr. Godou.”

Kiyoka calmly called out to Itsuto one more time. Then at last, he laid his eyes on Kiyoka.

“That thing’s…”

Godou’s voice cut out, with his lips opening and closing twice without producing any sound. Trying to say it, but hesitating—Kiyoka could catch glimpses of the man’s emotions in his demeanor.

“…Is this foe really that difficult to talk about?”

“That’s not it. It’s not that it’s difficult, but—I want you to listen without losing your cool.”

“I won’t.”

“That thing you ran into…was the Earth Spider.”

Kiyoka was stunned speechless.

The Earth Spider. This Grotesquerie was all too infamous. It was a Grotesquerie on a level above all others, one that had consumed countless people, still spoken of in legend to this day.

Kiyoka’s breath caught in his throat when he heard the name of that almost mythical being.

A name that seemed almost unreal.

“Something’s clearly been off in the capital lately. There’s been too few Grotesqueries. This led us to hypothesize that a real big one had shown up to scare the smaller Grotesqueries and send them running. We’ve also received several eyewitness accounts of the creature as well.”

According to Itsuto, signs of the Earth Spider’s presence had started showing up just a few days ago. Right after this happened, in an uncanny turn of events, they received a report that someone had seen a Grotesquerie shaped like a large spider. The Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit went on high-alert, realizing that a terrible and dangerous Grotesquerie was on the loose.

In light of the situation, they strengthened their patrols to immediately address any strange happenings that cropped up.

This had all happened during the time Kiyoka had spent away from the station.

“This evening was the first time that thing caused actual harm. It ate someone.”

“That can’t be…”

“It’s true. I never would have thought there were still Grotesqueries in this day and age bold enough to show themselves, much less attack and eat people on top of that.”

Itsuto put a hand to his temple, as if enduring a headache.

“The victim was a young man. He worked as a cook at a restaurant by day, and it’s believed he was attacked in the evening while he was on his way home from work. Based on the information we’ve received, the unusual circumstances when today’s incident was discovered, eyewitness testimony, and the ghostly aura left behind at the scene, we’ve determined that the Grotesquerie behind all this…is indeed the Earth Spider.”

Was it really the Earth Spider? Kiyoka thought back over his fight just now.

His foe had possessed an insect-like leg, the ability to completely shapeshift into a human monk, and the physical strength to overpower him.

Ah, right.

There were tales that featured the Earth Spider tricking and eating people. Sometimes a beautiful woman, other times a monk—it would take the form of a trustworthy individual, deceive its victim, lure them into lowering their guard, and devour them.

“Regardless, we’re going to be heading out to confront the Earth Spider. It’s far more dangerous than anything we’ve faced until now.”

“Mr. Godou?”

Itsuto turned around, as if to say the conversation was over. For some reason, Kiyoka felt as though he was being strongly rejected.

“You’re going home.”

“Starting tomorrow, I can join—”

“You don’t need to help. Stay put and focus on guarding your life.”

“Huh?”

The Earth Spider was a powerful foe.

Kiyoka wasn’t trying to be conceited, but there was no question that the more powerful fighters there were to help, the better.

He’d taken it as a given that Itsuto would accept his offer, but the man had flat out rejected him instead. It didn’t make sense.

Itsuto turned around and cast a sidelong glance at Kiyoka, a gesture that came across as utterly frigid in light of the man’s normal demeanor.

“I told you. Take the time to rethink your future. Until you come up with an answer, you don’t need to get involved in this case. Once you find your resolve, I’ll request your aid again.”

His usual drawling speech and kindhearted affect was nowhere to be found. All that was left were the mannerisms of a soldier leading his squad to fight Grotesqueries.

It wasn’t necessarily Kiyoka’s first time seeing this side of Itsuto.

However, it was the first time that Kiyoka had been on the receiving end of it. Godou had always interacted with Kiyoka like a father, an older brother, or a good-natured superior.

“Why…?”

Kiyoka had to get this off his chest before he departed.

“Why? I’ve had the resolve to do this for a long time! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have any Grotesquerie extermination requests at all. How many years do you think I’ve been fighting against the—”

“None of that crap matters.”

Itsuto emphatically dismissed Kiyoka’s words.

“You’re not a soldier. I can’t force you to participate in a mission this dangerous… It’s time to choose. You’re at a crossroads for what’s to come. Who you’ve been up until now doesn’t matter. What’s important is who you’re going to be from here on out.”

“But—”

“I’m not hearing any more objections. Go home already. You’re getting in the way of my work.”

Godou said no more than that, not even turning back around.

Kiyoka had plenty of complaints to make. They sat in the base of his throat, ready to spring from his lips. But now that Itsuto had left to go back to his subordinates and told Kiyoka that he was being a nuisance, Kiyoka’s only choice was to back down.

I don’t get it. Why?

Suddenly, he felt like he was being left behind.

At that moment, the members of the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit were busily coming and going from the area, seizing the Earth Spider’s severed leg and ardently investigating to see if anything else had been left behind.

Just a few days ago, Kiyoka would have been counted among them and fighting at their side.

Now, however, he felt a vast gulf between them. He was assailed by an intense feeling of isolation, as if he’d been suddenly partitioned off in a completely different world from them.

The fact they viewed him as an outsider, as unneeded, had been thrust in his face.

How did it end up like this…?

Anger, confusion, sadness, and loneliness at Itsuto’s unreasonable treatment of him—all these sentiments swirled around in his chest, and he couldn’t bear to stay there any longer.

Kiyoka quietly turned around and began heading home. He didn’t have the courage to say good-bye to Itsuto.

The next day, still unable to accept the events of the previous night, Kiyoka visited the Special Anti-Grotesquerie Unit station during his free time between classes.

His steps felt far heavier than he could have ever imagined, and he found himself close to turning back around several times.

He trusted Itsuto. And it was for that very reason that Kiyoka felt like he would break if he was met with the man’s cold gaze and fierce rejection again.

Nevertheless, he still spurred himself toward the station.

Since everyone there knew him, Kiyoka went straight into the station itself and sought a meeting with Godou. However…

“The commander ain’t here,” Koumyouin said boorishly.

“…Where is he?”

“You hear about the strengthened patrols?”

“I have,” Kiyoka said, nodding at Koumyouin’s question.

“Oh yeah, you ran into the Earth Spider last night. Well, the commander’s going out into the streets himself all day because of that thing. He’s even sending me—his aide—in shifts, too.”

“When do you think he will be back?”

“Not for another two hours, probably. Ain’t been that long since he left.”

Kiyoka felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. If he had to choose one, the sense of relief may have been the stronger of the two.

Koumyouin stared hard as Kiyoka wrestled with his emotions.

“So? Whaddaya want with him?”

“Oh, well…”

To Kiyoka’s surprise, his urge to complain to Itsuto withered away completely.

Koumyouin let out a deep, uncharacteristic sigh in response to Kiyoka’s evasive answer.

“Truth is, the commander ordered me to send you packing if you came ’round asking to get involved in the Earth Spider stuff.”

“What?”

Kiyoka never expected Itsuto to get Koumyouin involved, too. The bewilderment in his heart grew stronger.

Wasn’t it enough that he was exterminating Grotesqueries? Didn’t that mean he was fulfilling his duty? Yet despite that, Itsuto was saying that he wouldn’t request Kiyoka’s aid until he thought through his future.

It was contradictory; he couldn’t understand what Itsuto was trying to convey.

Koumyouin gave Kiyoka a slightly apologetic look as the latter went silent with shock.

“There’s ain’t much I can do for you, really. Me, I think it’d be better to have you join in. You’re valuable, and you add almost too much extra fighting power. But even strength on your level may still not be enough this time.”

“…I see.”

“Things would be more secure with you around, and from the perspective of a Gift-user or a soldier, you should obviously come along to help protect the people. But it’s not like I don’t get the commander’s side of things.”

Koumyouin looked out the window. His gaze was directed at several of the unit’s younger members, who were energetically training under the cloudy sky.

“Yeah, you may have plenty of experience taking out Grotesqueries, but you’re still wet behind the ears. If I had to guess what the commander’s thinking…I’d bet he doesn’t want you getting wrapped up in all this. Feels the same way about all them, too.”

Koumyouin returned his eyes from the unit members back to Kiyoka.

“If you young guys fought the Earth Spider and got wiped out, then who’d be around in the future?”

“…So the commander told me that I don’t have the resolve because I’m still young and inexperienced, is that it?”

“Who knows. I ain’t the commander, so how could I answer that?”

Kiyoka slumped dejectedly when Koumyouin threw his question back at him.

As far as Kiyoka was concerned, the soldier’s explanation was far too convenient. It was nice, the idea that Itsuto had taken Kiyoka off the mission because Kiyoka was so young, and he wanted to protect him. Far too kind.

Kiyoka felt that Itsuto’s true feelings lay somewhere else.

If not, it would be strange for Itsuto to have rejected Kiyoka so definitively. If he was trying to play the villain on purpose, Kiyoka would have largely guessed as much. He had known the man for long enough.

No, this was different.

Kiyoka felt that Itsuto had rejected him with a pure, strong, and single-minded will. It was enough to make Kiyoka wonder if he’d done something to anger or offend Itsuto in some way.

Kiyoka could tell that he’d gone pale. His complexion must have truly been awful, as Koumyouin looked at him with pity.

“Well, listen, I mean… You don’t gotta get so gloomy about it. Don’t think he took you off the mission ’cause he’s mad at you or anything… C’mon, you know how much the commander likes you ’n all, right?”

Koumyouin’s atypical, faltering words of comfort failed to affect Kiyoka.

Pestering Koumyouin about Itsuto’s true intentions any further wasn’t going to give him any definitive answers.

Still, he was beginning to lose heart. He didn’t have the energy left to wait for Godou to return and question him again.

“…I’ll head back to campus.”

“You do that. Once school’s done, you should head straight home and relax a bit. Ain’t nothing to lose your cool over. When we really need your strength, we’ll be sure to call.”

Kiyoka turned on his heel, twisting his lips in a slightly self-deprecating smile.

“Sure to call”—Kiyoka would have liked it to play out that way, but from what he could tell of Itsuto right now, he had a hunch that wouldn’t be happening.

Maybe I really will just give up on hunting down Grotesqueries altogether.

What was wrong with becoming a normal college student, pursuing the path of a researcher, and casting aside his identity as a Gift-user?

If that was how Itsuto wanted things to be…if he was saying he didn’t need Kiyoka anymore…

Childish and sulky thoughts came into his mind one after another, and they seemed all too appealing to Kiyoka at that moment.