K side blue, p.4
K Side Blue, page 4
-- Wow, what an incredible hand… He was unwittingly staring as he placed the key in his palm, and--
"It's dirty, huh?" Zenjoh gave a wry smile, putting the key away into his pocket.
"Ah, no, I'm sorry… Goodbye." Kusuhara bowed and turned to leave, but--
"Oh, Kusuhara-kun."
The voice from behind stopped him.
"Yes?" He turned around,
"…Kusuhara-kun, do you have a moment?"
†
"The computer's been acting up since this morning… I was wondering if you could take a look at it?" said Zenjoh, who seemed to somehow shrink a little.
"Hah, a… computer?"
"No?" Zenjoh became another size smaller. "Since you're young, I figured you'd be pretty good with machines, but…"
"No, I'm not that good, but …a PC, right?"
Kusuhara scratched his head, but--
-- If he's acting this way… Then maybe I'm better for this than him, he thought. Even in the sword troops they had a lot of work that used computers, and he also had his own personal one, though it was cheap.
"I'll take a look… Where is it?"
"Yeah, thanks." Zenjoh relaxed his shoulders a little bit.
And then - the back of Zenjoh leading him, and the wall of lockers on both sides. These three things filling his vision, Kusuhara was led further into the file room. It actually only lasted a few seconds, but it felt terribly long to him. It seemed that whenever this person was in front of him, not only his sense of size, but his sense of time was warped, too.
Zenjoh suddenly stepped to the side, and the front of him grew bright. Next to the opened window was a single desk, buried under the piles of documents. But there was nothing that looked like a PC on the desk or even on the cabinets around it. When Kusuhara looked around, Zenjoh pointed to the top of the desk with his right hand.
"This is it…"
"Eh… This is the PC?"
What was in front of him differed greatly from the "PC" he had imagined. Basically it wasn't a thin, folding kind of laptop-- On top of a big, flat box-shaped CPU was a cathode-ray tube monitor almost the size of a small TV. And then, a full size corded keyboard. They both seemed to originally be a cream color, but were now sooted by the sun and heavy use.
"…Ah, one of these…" Kusuhara said without thinking, and Zenjoh responded with a gentle expression.
"Yeah. It seems to be pretty old…"
"…It's making some sort of weird noise."
"Yeah."
They held their breath and listened closely. The old computer CPU was making agitating boop boop, krrk krrk noises.
"It's been like this ever since I turned it on this morning. I can't do anything."
"Hah…"
A blurred line of white letters was displayed on black. Kusuhara drew his face closer to the monitor. "Umm… Ope…ra…tion?"
Then, Zenjoh turned around and, "…It says something like, 'Unable to find OS,' doesn't it?"
"I wonder what that is?"
"Eh?"
Now that he thought about it, he didn't really know. Looking up at the ceiling, Kusuhara spoke. "Um… Some sort of really important thing that's in the computer's program… or something."
"Important, huh?"
"Yes… I think."
"And we're in trouble without it?"
"…Yes."
"Hm…" Zenjoh gave a stern look and scratched his chin. "…What should we do?"
They froze just like that, like statues. After an awkward two or three seconds passed--
"…Um, I can go get someone who might know."
"…Please." Zenjoh said without moving an inch, when--
"Heeey! Takeee! Takeruuu!" A loud voice interrupted them from outside the window. He saw a group of troops in blue gathering on the grounds. The voice belonged to Hidaka, who was waving both his saber and sheath over his head.
"The hell are you lazing around over there for? Afternoon lesson's starting!"
"Ah!! R-Right!" Kusuhara looked around in a flustered manner at the window, the monitor, then back to Zenjoh.
"…Sorry. Go on." Zenjoh said, and pointed to the huge window where he could exit directly onto the grounds, but… it seemed rather unreliable.
"Excuse me!" Kusuhara bowed his head and ran off, turning back to the window.
"I'll come back after dismissal!"
†
Since he had missed out on lunch, afternoon practice was tough, but he somehow managed to finish alright. When they were cutting across the grounds bathed in dusk, the west building became a dark wall that blocked the setting sun.
The light wasn't on in the first floor general affairs file room. Zenjoh might have already left for the day.
-- Of course. He could've asked someone else, not me.
But upon closer inspection, the window facing the grounds was open. As he neared, he thought he might've gone home without locking up for the day like he did yesterday at the dojo, but--
"--Wah! He's still there!" Kusuhara raised his voice.
In the dim room, Zenjoh sat unmoving at the desk by the window, staring at the PC making strange noises.
"Mm… Oh, Kusuhara-kun. You've come." Zenjoh lifted his head. It seemed that he'd been waiting for Kusuhara the entire time.
-- He should've called for someone else… It was hard to say that now, so he decided not to and--
"I'm sorry I'm late." Kushara nodded his head. "…Um, I've brought someone who might know."
Two troop members stepped forward from behind him. First, a young man in glasses who had his long hair tied at the nape of his neck stood up straight and bowed.
"Enomoto Tatsuya, swordsmen division troops, fourth squad."
And then, "Same, Hidaka! Div four!" Hidaka gave a big wave of his hand over his head.
Then they entered the room through the window, and, "--Oohhh!?" When Enomoto, who had been calm up until this moment, saw the computer in question, he gave a shriek. "A P7… This is a PCRX-78! It's a machine from about twenty years ago. This is a legacy… No, this is a vintage now!"
Kusuhara flinched at Enomoto, who rushed to the CPU and watched it intimately, and Hidaka hit his back.
"Didn't I tell you? This guy's a nerd."
Enomoto pretended not to hear and stuck his head behind the monitor, and checked the wiring and model number. "Oh!! It's even a G3 type! The drive shaft on this has magnetic coating!”
"Uh huh… I see." Zenjoh responded, overwhelmed.
"I dunno man, whatever." Hidaka waved it off lightly. "…So? Can you fix it or not?"
Enomoto lifted his head. "Eh, fix…? Oh, this cranking sound? This is… look." He operated a button and lever on the CPU, and pulled out a square board about the size of his palm. And then, the strange noises simply stopped. With a short electronic sound the PC restarted, and the startup processes began to be displayed on the screen.
"…You fixed it." Zenjoh murmured.
"Eh… What did you just do?" Kusuhara asked.
"This wasn't a malfunction or anything like that--" Enomoto answered with a smile and faced Zenjoh, waving the board he had just pulled out. "Zenjoh-san. Did you forget to take this floppy out?"
"Hm… Perhaps." Zenjoh nodded meekly.
"If you turn it on with a floppy in the A drive, the machine recognizes it as the startup disk and tries to bring up the OS. So if it's just a regular data disk, it'll keep looking for a nonexistent OS. Well, for machines from that time, it's a typical problem." Enomoto explained.
"Oh, I see. The OS, huh." Zenjoh nodded again. "I don't really understand, but… I thought it was completely broken."
"Yes, I'm glad it wasn't anything major."
When he said that, Kusuhara's stomach growled.
"Ah, I'm sorry…" He blushed, and Hidaka hit his back.
"Hahah, his stomach's been growling like crazy since noon! …Eno! Hey, Eno! That's enough!"
"…Mm… Just a little longer." Enomoto gave a noncommittal response as he played with the PC, and Hidaka hit the back of his head.
"Let's go get food. Food!"
And--
"Ah, I haven't eaten lunch yet, either." Zenjoh slowly stepped further into the room. "If it's all right… I can go put on some soba."
"Ah… soba?" Kusuhara looked at Hidaka and Enomoto, and--
"Oh, yeah! That sounds great!"
Hidaka raised his hand up high.
†
It was unclear as to what it used to be used for, but there was a small kitchen in the general affairs file room. So Zenjoh wouldn't go to the cafeteria, but would often make simple meals here.
"I can really only boil water… But I like soba, so I make it a lot."
There wasn't a decent table in the room, and after putting the platter[2] of soba, condiments and Zenjoh's small cup on it, it was practically full. There weren't enough dishes, so Kusuhara and the others used soup bowls and mugs for the dipping sauce. Other than Zenjoh's proper chair, there was one folding chair. Hidaka snagged that one, and Kusuhara and Enomoto ate standing.
"Mm! It's good! This is really good! Is it high quality stuff?"
"Nah, it's stuff I got from the nearby grocery store…"
"I see, it's great!" he said lightly.
As he messily took soba from the platter, Enomoto said to him, "Hidaka… Restrain yourself.”
"Idiot, the fastest gets the most. Take that!"
"Ah!"
Hidaka had already taken all his noodles, and Enomoto bowed his head to Zenjoh.
"I apologize, he was raised with brothers, and… I'm really sorry." He, for some reason, kept apologizing for Hidaka's behavior.
"I love spring onions. They're delicious." Hidaka filled his bowl with them, and vigorously slurped his soba.
As he watched the scene, Zenjoh's face relaxed slightly. "Yeah, today's spring onions are good."
"Today's…?" Kusuhara tilted his head, and with the wrist where he was holding his chopsticks, Zenjoh pointed to his left shoulder.
"It's because of this hand."
"…Ahh." Kusuhara understood. Since he couldn't use his left hand, Zenjoh couldn't cut spring onion in small pieces with a knife. Since Kusuhara had offered to help cut the onions, it was the first time in a long while that they actually seemed like condiments… or something like that.
"Do you want more soba?" Zenjoh stood.
"Oh, yeah please!"
"…Thank you."
Hidaka and Enomoto bowed their heads.
"And spring onions?"
"Yeah!"
Kusuhara followed after Zenjoh and headed to the kitchen with a jog. Watching him, Hidaka sighed, "Hey Eno… he's cute, isn't he?"
"Gak!"
"Hey…! What are you choking for!? I don't mean anything weird!"
Enomoto coughed two, three times at the flustered Hidaka.
"Eh, what's wrong?" Kusuhara looked back.
"Nothing! Cut your onions!"
"Hah…" Kusuhara tilted his head, and with the heavy thud of a knife started to cut the spring onions again.
Enomoto's coughs finally turned into a smile. "Ahem… no, I know. I get you. Kusuhara-kun's like a little brother, or a puppy… He's charming."
"--I see. Charming, is it?"
"Yeah, that's it! Charm! That's what I wanted to sa-- Woah!!" Hidaka turned around, and standing on the other side of the open window was Director Munakata Reisi. His almond-shaped eyes were directed towards the inside of the room, and showed a hint of a smile.
"Hello, Zenjoh-san. Excuse me for interrupting again."
"Good afternoon!" Enomoto stood straight, still holding his chopsticks and bowl.
"Hey, Takeru! Make a seat! A seat!
"Eh, a seat? --Uwa!"
As the young troop members ran around in a fuss, Munakata entered the room through the window.
And finally--
Everyone holding their breath, they watched Munakata sitting in a chair in front of the second platter of soba, holding the dish they had prepared for him.
-- He eats soba… grocery store soba… Kusuhara thought this plainly ordinary thing was incredibly unexpected.
What was surprising was the image of Munakata normally eating a meal, which he couldn't imagine before. He felt as though this man didn't do things that regular people did, like eating or sleeping. He'd heard that he often did tea ceremony as a hobby, but for some reason thought he got his energy from ceremonial rites and meditation.
Of course, that was nothing more than just his imagination. However, looking at Munakata's demeanor now just strengthened that impression. His back was straightened naturally sitting in the chair. The way he used his chopsticks was also correct, and beautiful. He didn't take too many or too few noodles, and with fluid movement dropped them into his small cup then brought them to his mouth. He barely made any noise. With soft slurping sounds and beautiful movements, the noodles disappeared like magic. It was an entirely different thing and entirely different movements from when they were making a ruckus as they ate their soba just moments earlier.
Not just Kusuhara, but Hidaka and Enomoto also stood perfectly still, staring at him.
Normal humans - no, normal animals should have a natural opposition to being watched during their defenseless moments of feeding. However, Munakata paid no mind to the gazes of the troops around him, calmly taking in the soba. It was even more like he was overwhelming those around him as he did so.
"--Is something the matter? The soba will spoil."
"Ah! Yes!"
"My apologies!"
Kusuhara and Enomoto responded at attention.
"Well… Thanks for the… soba." Hidaka reached out uncomfortably, and in obligation took two or three noodles with his chopsticks. Then, as though avoiding the awkward moment, swished them around in the sauce a few times then took his time putting them in his mouth. He made his best effort not to make any sound. Munakata watched his series of movements with a smile.
"Uh, um… It's very, cooked very well…" Hidaka fumbled out some strange-sounding things, and then poked Enomoto in the ribs as he whispered into his ear, "Hey, Eno. You're next."
"What do you mean, next." They talked like they were pushing their turn for punishment onto each other. Actually, calmly eating soba while exposed to Munakata's gaze was an act of stress itself.
Enomoto, bewildered, glanced back at Kusuhara.
-- Eh, me!? He unwittingly gave a small shake of his head, and Enomoto made a face of despair.
"Heh… Shall we decide the order with rock, paper, scissors?"[3]
"No! We're sorry!"
As the three stood together at attention, Zenjoh passed slowly in front of them. In his hand he had a porcelain bowl filled with sauce. It seemed to be the replacement for the small soba cup he had been using earlier, which he had washed and gave to Munakata.
"Pardon…"
Zenjoh placed the porcelain bowl on the desk, and with a creak he sat in the folding chair in front of Munakata. He then grasped some noodles with his hands from the platter and casually placed them in his bowl. He sprinkled some spring onions on it with his hands again, then took his chopsticks and began to slurp the soba vigorously.
Since he couldn't hold the bowl with his left hand, he lowered his face close to it, eating like a dog. It wasn't something about manners or anything, but in his behavior there was a strange dignity, like the actions of a large beast. "He looked like a tiger eating soba…" Hidaka had expressed later.
Almost an entire handful of noodles disappeared into Zenjoh with just two mouthfuls. Kusuhara and the others were speechless, and he again took noodles from the platter then quickly ate it up.
"Heheh… what a good way to eat. You've fascinated me." Munakata smiled.
"You belong in a painting."
"How embarrassing… The vulgarity stains me."
After finishing the platter in a blink, Zenjoh stood again. "…Shall I make tea, too?"
"I'll have tea. But it's no use to try and chase me out."
Zenjoh's movements stopped, and Kusuhara and the others held their breath. Munakata spoke, giving an enigmatic smile.
"Zenjoh-san… Today I'll have not just soba, but a favor of yours."
Chapter 2: Dojo Training
Tokyo Legal Affairs Bureau, Family Register Section, Fourth Annex.
The Blue King Munakata Reisi's official position was the director of this small office at the bottom of the polity, whose business was "the collection and management of information regarding persons retaining abilities caused by a unique phenomenon."
The combat organization of Scepter 4, made up of nearly a hundred uniquely powered individuals, was a strictly non-public organization. Officially, it was an outside agency commissioned for a part of the Fourth Annex's business, and at the same time it should be said that it was the private army of the Fourth Annex's director, Munakata Reisi. Be that as it may, in actuality the members of Scepter 4 and the Fourth Annex were practically one and the same. Basically, the "Fourth Annex" was a paper identity given to Scepter 4, who kept the extra-legal side of things. But Munakata normally calls himself "director," and his subordinates also called him by this title through and through. It was a display of power more immense and transcendent than anyone else, while showing deference towards the existing social system - there was no way for outside people to understand such a truth.
He was a man like a chimera, Zenjoh thought.
In front of him, the man like a chimera smiled like a chimera.
A smile that steals one's freedom.
†
Once a week during the day in the dojo, along with the squads, or those who willingly choose to participate in martial arts training, occurs a joint training that all troops participate in. Unlike fencing practice, which was for learning the armed group movements, dojo training was designed for the mastery of each and every person's swordsmanship technique itself. During practice, they wear dogi[1] and use bamboo swords. They use techniques prohibited in competitive kendo, and use them mercilessly. Protective gear is unused. They etch into themselves the agility to evade an attacking enemy along with countless bruises.
