I Shall Come Forth as Pure Gold (5)

I really thought I was going to die with a hole punched clean through my stomach...

Sasaki Kisaki sat on the stairs leading up to the rooftop, face buried in her hands. A criminal anomaly, lingering for ages before an Apostle—the very picture of a mouse before a snake. The thought of confessing everything and begging for mercy even flickered through her mind.

What kept her from it was the simple knowledge that mercy was not on the table. She was the mastermind who had set the whole of Vampire Syndrome in motion.

Being a criminal guilty of large-scale terrorism was not, in itself, the problem.

Pride would never have allowed it, but if she had knelt, groveled, and sworn to serve the social order from that day forward, she might have hoped for some softening of the sentence. A powerhouse capable of causing a major incident was, conversely, a considerable asset once she stood on their side.

The real problem was that the terrorism she and her comrades had committed happened to be that Christmas Eve Massacre. Sasaki remembered it.

More precisely, she remembered a little later, when a servant came to report how the incident had unfolded.

...She decided to stop thinking about it.

She had put on a calm face in front of her comrades, but honestly, her mind had been fairly well gone for a while after that. She had crossed a river from which there was truly no returning.

And had Ninomae Hitomi, the VIP, simply been caught up in it and died? No. Right before the vampirization, under the pretext of saving her, they had forced Han Seoyeon to kill the girl with her own hands.

At this rate the floor of the sentence is the ranch...!

Even if the Church forgave her now, Han Seoyeon would not.

The one small mercy was that the woman's visit to the school did not seem to be on Sasaki's account. It was, so to speak, a coincidence, and at the very least she did not appear to have come to kill her.

Even so, whether the other side had recognized her or not, the mere fact of that presence was a burden she could do nothing about.

In that respect it was fortunate class had ended early. Today, on the pretext of parent-teacher conferences, lessons were scheduled only for the morning, and even those had been cut to about half their usual length.

And the moment that short class was over, Sasaki had fled here as if running for her life.

The rooftop of Goroneto Girls' High was, as a rule, always locked. The stairs leading up to it were therefore rarely sought out by anyone. At present the place was as good as Sasaki Kisaki's private hideout.

It wasn't that no other students ever came... but Sasaki was a third-year, and known as one of the so-called delinquents, so most of them yielded the spot to her.

The only exceptions were students on fairly good terms with her. And even they would be busy with their families today.

No. Wait one moment. Where, pray, is the need for me to cower like this? What of it, that she is an Apostle? She does not even know of my crimes!

Left alone, a flare of indignation suddenly rose in her. Pathetically fleeing and hiding—was that not disgrace itself? It did not suit her.

Nor was it merely a matter of feeling. Think it through, and from Han Seoyeon's perspective she was still nothing more than an ordinary student. The other side would find it difficult to lay a hand on her carelessly.

Sasaki shot to her feet.

Yes. Good. That accursed woman surely takes me for a perfect civilian. When will another chance come to seize the high ground and rake an Apostle's nerves? Heh heh heh—yes, this is it. Would she truly raise a hand merely because a civilian schoolgirl acts a little ill-mannered?

Looked at another way, this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was an exceedingly rare chance to get one over on an Apostle. She would seize it, stay just short of the line, rile the woman to a proper boil, and vent this miserable mood—

"Ah, there you aaare, Sakisaki! Natacchi, this is Sasaki Kisaki-chan, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the one I was just telling you about."

"It is an honor to meet you! My name is Sasaki Kisaki! Inadequate though I am, I have been keeping company as Eru-chan's friend!"

──And the instant her eyes met Han Seoyeon's, coming up the stairs, her waist folded to a perfect ninety degrees. Submission on the order of a spinal reflex, without a shred of hesitation to be found in it.

Ah, uwah—I know the fear is needless, but my body just—impossible. Telling me to keep my composure in front of something like this is pure fucking bullshit! Haaaaah...

"Uh... um, yes... I'll be in your care...?"

"No, Sakisaki. What are you doing all of a sudden?"

The attitude left even Han Seoyeon, and Mika Eru who had brought her, with no choice but bewilderment. The two stole glances at each other and whispered.

"Is she normally like this?"

"Nooo, she's not usually like thaaat..."

Of the two, Eru was the more thrown. Han Seoyeon could let it pass as is this just her personality?, but the gap with the usual Sasaki left Eru genuinely confused.

"...Aaah. I seee."

But she soon studied her friend's face, and snorted a laugh.

"You got spooked by Natacchi, didn't you?"

"Urk..."

So saying, Eru stepped in and wrapped Sasaki up from behind. The remark had struck dead center.

"It's fiiine, it's fiiine~ Our Natacchi's an extreme moderate by Japanese standards, so even if Sakisaki's a vampire, she won't bite! Long as you're not dealing with a criminal, she's a really, really kind big sister who just looks a tiny bit scary, okay?"

Flinch. Sasaki's body trembled.

Sasaki Kisaki was an undeniable criminal, and plainly a target for a Holy Knight to put down.

"Ah... well, compensated dating is technically illegal too, I guuess... Anyway, Sakisaki, you get what I'm trying to say, riiight? She's flexible enough to look the other way on petty stuff like that."

"No. I clearly told you to stop, and you were the one who didn't."

It was not a petty offense. It was a felony with no room left for argument.

The large-scale terrorism that had nearly turned downtown Tokyo into a sea of fire had been their handiwork.

"And listen, even if Sakisaki does something wrong to Natacchi, I'll beg right there beside you! I may not look it, but I'm basically Natacchi's family, so as long as you don't mess with the people around her, I can talk her down somehow."

She had already messed with them.

Messed with them—she was, for all practical purposes, the cause of death. She was the very person who had briefly triggered Scenario I.

"See? I'm telliiing you, there's not a single reason to be scared."

"R-right..."

There were many. She could not count the reasons she might be murdered on one hand.

But Sasaki forced a smile.

If I'm found out, my life is genuinely over...!

Even in the middle of comforting her that there was nothing to fear, if what Eru was really saying was but if you've crossed this line, I truly cannot cover for you, then that was a dangerous territory that could not be called all right even as empty words.

And she had crossed that line. Now she had no choice but to carry the secret all the way to the grave.

Fail at that, and the moment of failure would be the moment she was buried in one.

"Anyway... thank you for getting along with our lacking Eru, Miss Sasaki."

"Ah, n-no. I-I should be the one... Eru-chan is always looking after me..."

When Han Seoyeon dipped her head, Sasaki ducked hers in turn. She was simply glad to escape, even for a moment, that chilling gaze—the one that soured her stomach just to look at.

Had she already been found out? Even if not, had her reaction given her away? Every time the thought came, her heart, already long since still, felt as though it might stop all over again.

Why was the name of honor bestowed on a supremely excellent Holy Knight Gravekeeper? Because Holy Knights, whose trade was the striking down of anomalies, counted as their very finest specialty the laying back into the earth of those who had risen from the grave against the order of nature.

A Holy Knight was, in other words, a vampire's natural enemy by definition—and standing before her now was an Apostle, the pinnacle of that order. Worse still, the current Bartholomew happened to be the disciple and adopted daughter of the Vampire Slayer himself. The moment her identity came to light, her chances would drop to an absolute zero.

The woman embracing her from behind was no different. Quasi-Apostle in all but name, and likewise a disciple of the Slayer. This one at least trusted her; they had even shared a bed. But she was by no means someone who would cling to sentiment once it came out that Sasaki was a terrorist.

"U-um, m-more importantly, shouldn't you be going in for your conference...?"

"Hm? Aah, it's fiiine~ I'm 'Mi'ka Eru, so I'm pretty far back in the order."

"Then, um, you know—maybe I could show you around the school in the meantime...?"

"Oh, that's a good idea!"

Sasaki thrashed for any way out of the situation, and the instant she read agreement on Mika Eru's face she cheered inwardly.

Yes! Done! Take that damned executioner and begone this instant! If I can only ride this and get clear of this spot...

A palm smacked down.

"...Eh?"

"Sakisaki, you're coming too!! Your parents didn't come today, so you've got nothing to do all daaay, right?"

"Huh? No, uh, wait..."

Sasaki Kisaki wanted to cry.

What did I even do wrong?! Throwing the world into chaos, and in the gap founding one little country of my own on a small island, living it up while vampire thralls wait on me—what kind of crime is that... no, I suppose it is a crime! But still!

...Honestly, even she had to admit it was something the Church could never tolerate. Founding an independent nation by mass-producing vampires and ruling them? And committing crimes along the way besides—that went without saying.

Today, once again, her dream of a harem did nothing but march in place.

The old gymnasium of Goroneto Girls' High School.

Even after a new building, serving as both gymnasium and auditorium, had gone up—people remarking that the old one had grown rather too worn—it was a space still readily used whenever two classes' P.E. periods happened to overlap.

As for the athletic-club students, busy seizing territory and shoving one another out of it, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that went without saying. It fell a little short of the field or the new gym, but no small number of clubs still coveted the place.

Seen in that light, the basketball club—securing even a modest corner on a fixed basis every day—had to be called fairly impressive in its own right.

Considering that Goroneto's basketball club was traditionally a club with almost no experience of official tournaments, a club that existed, in practice, so its members could gather and enjoy themselves, it bordered on a miracle.

And the reason such a thing had been possible...

"Frankly speaking, it was entirely because of this one."

Akane sighed and tapped Tenka's shoulder with the back of her hand.

For one thing, a considerable number of members had joined drawn in by the marquee of the academy's prince. Enough that the school found it genuinely difficult to ignore the basketball club's voice.

Nor was it only inside the school. Outside, she had been popular in a different sense.

Specifically, because of that physique. Tenka, whose physical ability ranked among the very top even of werewolves, was still a monster with her ears and tail hidden and her strength held down.

Goroneto's basketball club was a one-player team and yet a strong one—a lopsided shape—but the fact remained that they were strong, and so they were often invited to other schools' training sessions.

"Please consider going pro, please transfer into our school, at the very least come out to a tournament so we can play you... She was an insanely hot commodity... And this brat, I don't know what she's so proud of, turned every last one of them down."

"No, but if I did that, it'd feel kind of like cheating..."

Tenka answered with an awkward smile. She did not come out and say we're a different species to begin with, so wrecking a tournament feels a little cheap, and the reason was standing right beside them: Sakuragi Oka, a denizen of the surface world.

Once Oka's younger sister had finished her parent-teacher conference, the three of them had come looking for the old gym assigned to the basketball club. The pretext for the school visit was that they had come as alumni of the club to see the juniors, so it was only natural.

And the "suspect," it seemed, was a member of the basketball club as well.

A glance. Akane looked at the girl holding the ball on the court.

A schoolgirl with long hair tied back and left to hang. She was in gym clothes now, so no name was visible, but Akane had checked the name tag when the girl was in uniform in the classroom: Yokohara Ren. The "suspect," in other words—the real purpose of the visit.

...This really does seem like the wrong answer.

Watching her lose the ball while driving straight in, Akane reached her conclusion.

A two-on-two in which they had merely matched the numbers. With so few people, strategy was hard to come by; it was practically the realm of individual skill.

And just now, it hadn't been a case of her escape being cut off so that she had no choice but to surrender the ball. She had simply been beaten in a straight one-on-one.

Nor had she been overwhelmed physically. As Akane saw it, the one who took the ball wasn't all that impressive. She had only watched briefly today, so it might not be precise, but if she had to judge, Yokohara Ren seemed the better of the two in raw skill.

Which meant what had just happened was simply that an opening had been exploited...

...An opening? A prophet?

On that point she couldn't help tilting her head.

By Han Seoyeon's assessment, the opponent was a prophet who saw narrowly, but with certainty. The range would be limited to roughly her own surroundings, but within that range she ought to be considerably sharp.

This much should certainly have been visible. And yet the ball had been taken from her. That was the question.

If it was a deliberate effort to hide her ability from others... her face was bitterly frustrated. Say that even that might be an act ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of tremendous talent, and there was nothing to be done—but suspect it that far, and the problem became what one could believe at all.

Even while Akane turned it over, the ball changed hands. Another schoolgirl, taking the pass from the girl of a moment ago, cut in swiftly from the front.

Short hair and lightly tanned skin gave off the very feeling of an athletic club. This school had basketball hoops only indoors, so apart from club activities they probably just spent a great deal of time outside.

Sakuragi Oka watched her slip in and sink the ball through the hoop, eyes sparkling—no, honestly the eyes weren't visible at all, but that was the impression.

"Nice play, Honoka-chan~!"

At the praise the girl, Sakuragi Honoka, grinned brightly and flashed a V with her fingers.

"Well? Our Honoka-chan's amazing, riiight?"

"Yeah, well..." Akane said. "She's certainly very quick. Looks like she's got some talent on the athletic side."

"No, you're looking at our world's-most-charming short-haired, huge-breasted, tanned tomboy pretty girl, and that's all you've got to say?"

"No, what the fuck—even if you make a living drawing manga like that, is that seriously coming out of her own big sister's mouth?"

"But~ Oka-chan doesn't think it's bad that her little sister is sexy~"

"Entirely! You're the one who's bad!"

Akane clutched her forehead against the headache.