Shadowing (2)
Lebetri yawned and stretched both arms high above her head.
"Uuugh....."
Sapi spoke without taking his eyes off the path ahead.
"There's a spring a little farther on."
"Okay."
Lebetri's long rabbit ears swayed gently.
"I was dying of thirst."
A short while later, a small spring came into view. Clear water trickled down between the rocks, and Lebetri bolted straight for it, scooping up the flow in cupped hands and gulping it down.
"Aaahh..."
The cold water slid down her throat. Sapi swept his gaze over their surroundings, then quietly opened his mouth.
"Lebetri."
"Yeah?"
"Wait here for a bit. There's somewhere I need to go."
With that, he walked off into the forest. Lebetri shrugged.
"Weird."
Someone was watching it all from beneath the earth.
"..."
Aurora's eyes trembled violently. At last, Lebetri was alone.
She was off her guard, busy drinking her fill. There would never be a more perfect chance. His heart began to race.
Now!
And yet his fingertips wouldn't move. Why did Sapi walk off alone? The question kept circling his head, and the calculations started on their own. Had Sapi abandoned his spot on purpose? Why—as bait? Or was it a trap?
Dozens of possibilities surfaced, and he struck them down one after another.
This time was real. He had to attack—now!
He tensed his body, swam swiftly through the soil, and burst up out of the ground, aiming straight for Lebetri's heart.
I stood deep in the forest, and I closed my eyes.
The instant I did, countless futures unrolled before me—possibilities beyond counting. In them, Lebetri was hurt, but she did not die.
"Come on, Lebetri. Show me your possibilities."
A small smile crossed my lips.
At the spring's edge, I sat with my feet soaking in the water.
"So peaceful."
Memories of my old family rose up in me, and my heart squeezed tight.
While I was lost in that thought, the surface of the water shivered—so faintly it was almost nothing.
My rabbit ears twitched. My instincts were screaming. This was the enemy Sapi had warned me about.
I drew my beam saber. Where is it? I couldn't sense a thing—no presence, no sign of anything.
?!
Something was tearing toward me from behind at a horrifying speed. Dodge? Block? No—at that speed, dodging wasn't an option. I had to twist my body and keep it off my vitals!
KRAK!
A shallow cut opened across the back of my neck. The thing now standing in front of me—was that what made the strike?
"Hey, fish head."
"Fish head?! I'll kill you slow and painful!!!"
The fish head's face contorted around its roar.
?!
It had sunk into the ground? For an instant, that thought froze me mid-motion—and in that gap, the fish head burst back out of the earth and came swinging.
"Kgh..."
I couldn't read its attacks at all. Some kind of power to move freely through the soil? It wasn't strong, but it was a pain to deal with. No matter how I swung the saber, it was already back underground, and the moment I so much as stepped, it popped out from some angle outside my vision.
Hah... hah...
I caught my breath.
This was hard to handle alone. That was the first time the thought had ever come to me.
What?! It just pops out right in front of me?
A perfect chance. The instant it came to attack, I would cut it down with the beam saber.
But it never attacked me. It simply tore my weapon out of my hands.
"You damn fish head."
"I am Aurora!!! The proud, noble Aurora!!"
"..."
"I don't have a weapon. So you don't get to have one either."
It hurled my saber far away, somewhere deep in the forest, then dove back beneath the ground.
This is bad... I've got no way left to attack. What do I do?
Then I felt something against my leg. A hand? Just the hand had risen out of the soil, and it was locked around my ankle. With monstrous strength and speed, it dragged me off, charging toward—who knew where. What was it playing at?
I looked, as fast as I could, at the direction I was being hauled. A rock? If this kept up, I was going to slam straight into a massive boulder.
BAM!
"Ughk."
The impact hit like my spine had snapped, and the air left my lungs.
"Haa... haah..."
Between the crash and the mind games Aurora had put me through, I could barely breathe, let alone move. So this is where this loop ends?
And so, calmly, I accepted death.
From far away, I watched the whole thing play out.
Left as it was, Aurora's final strike would kill Lebetri. But I had chosen that future.
Lebetri still didn't know her own limits. And as long as she didn't, she would die without fail in the next future, and the one after that.
So this time, of all times, she had to realize it for herself. That there was a limit to what she could do alone.
Aurora was certain. It was over—this one attack would end her.
He erupted up through the earth, sharp claws reaching for Lebetri's heart. And so Lebetri waited for death...
...but there was no pain.
BANG!
A gunshot cracked out, and Aurora's shoulder burst open. At the source of the shot stood Sapi.
"That's far enough."
At that flat, unhurried remark, Aurora's face went rigid. He'd frozen at the simple fact that the man was already here—that much was plain.
Sapi lowered his hand and spoke.
"Experiment's over."
"..."
"Just like I thought."
He smiled for a moment.
"A fool who can't be certain of anything."
Aurora's pupils shook harder than they ever had. It was a remark that seemed to sum up his entire being, and that single line only fed the fury swelling inside him.
Blood streamed down from Aurora's shoulder. The bullet had punched through flesh but spared the bone—not a fatal wound.
Gritting his teeth, Aurora glared at Sapi, the corners of his eyes twitching.
"Don't make me laugh..."
In an instant, his body sank into the ground.
Sapi didn't move. He simply closed his eyes and gazed into the future. Then—simple as breathing—he drew his right foot slowly back.
Aurora's claws speared up out of the exact spot where Sapi had been standing a heartbeat before. And Aurora dove under again at once.
He dodged? No... it has to be coincidence.
I charged again—and Sapi tilted his body left. My strike tore through empty air.
I dove under and surged toward him once more—and Sapi took a single, calm step. This time I went for his back. Sapi dipped his head.
Aurora's expression crumpled.
Impossible. He's dodging everything?
His heart pounded wildly. Calm down. Stay calm. He began drilling it into his own skull.
From up on the surface, Sapi spoke quietly.
"Still running the calculations, I see."
"..."
"You never did break that habit."
Aurora's eyes shook hard.
"Shut up..."
BOOM!!
This time the entire ground heaved upward as if it had detonated. Dirt and dust swallowed the view. Aurora had brought the whole area down on purpose.
Now he'll assume I'm attacking from underground. So I'll do the opposite—I'll come at him head-on.
He raked his claws at Sapi in a straight line—but Sapi slipped aside with room to spare, a smile on his face. And yet he wasn't counterattacking at all. He only kept giving ground, back and back.
Which means I'm the one with the upper hand.
He pressed the attack again and again. Sapi only retreated, slipping every strike.
And then Sapi said, flat as ever:
"You thought you were mixing it up a little each time you attacked, didn't you?"
"..."
"You've never changed. Not once."
Aurora looked down at his own hand. It was trembling with fear.
"That's impossible.... I calculated every single time."
Sapi gave a short snort of a laugh.
"All you ever did was calculate. And the conclusion was always the same."
"Shut up!!"
Aurora shrieked and charged again. This time the speed was different. He came with the single-minded resolve to kill.
Sapi's sleepy eyes cracked open—just a sliver. And from inside his coat, he drew out a hammer.
At the sight of it, Aurora halted his charge cold. He'd learned while shadowing Lebetri that the hammer was a relic. Taking a critical hit from a relic whose effects he couldn't predict was a risk he couldn't afford.
The moment Aurora stopped, Sapi raised the hammer high and threw it straight at him. But it sailed far over Aurora's head.
"Haha! You missed!!"
"That wasn't an attack. It was a pass."
"What?"
Aurora looked to where the hammer was flying. There stood Lebetri.
"Go on, Lebetri. Show off that strength of yours—all of it."
"Leave it to me."
But the distance between Aurora and Lebetri was far too great. If he dove back underground before she reached him...
My strength is the Linear Leap.
Lebetri's hand closed around the hammer—a weight heavy enough to numb her palm.
"..."
She lowered her stance. Power coiled and compressed through both legs, and the soil beneath her feet split apart like a spiderweb.
KRAK!
With the sound of the earth caving in, Lebetri vanished from sight.
Aurora's pupils blew wide.
Fast—
He couldn't even finish the thought.
BOOOM!
The hammer came down square on Aurora's skull. The shock detonated through him.
When Aurora came to, the first thing he did was touch his head.
The effects of his monsterization had granted him rapid regeneration, and thanks to it, the wound was already knitting itself closed.
And yet...
Throb... throb... throb...
It kept hurting.
Time passed, and the pain did not fade. The monster's healing had sealed the wound completely—but the shock of the instant the hammer struck remained, burned into him forever.
For the first time, Aurora's face went pale.
From a distance, Sapi said, flat as ever:
"Congratulations. It's a gift you'll never forget for the rest of your life."
"GRAAAAAH!!"
Aurora clutched his head and did nothing but scream.
"Now I get it."
"Get what?"
"Why you didn't just kill that guy."
At that, Sapi glanced over at Lebetri.
"A hobby of listening to people scream? That's a new one."
"...What?"
Her out-of-nowhere jab caught me off guard for a split second.
"I left him alive because I needed to find out what the relic does."
"So? What does it do?"
"Ah... the relic? It's probably one that leaves the pain behind. Permanently."
Of course, that was a lie. I had already known the relic's effect—I'd seen it in the future.
But Lebetri didn't know I could see the future. If I'd named the relic's effect with pinpoint accuracy and no proof whatsoever, suspicion would be the only natural reaction. So I needed to show her the process—the sight of a wound healing while only the pain stayed behind.
I had spared Aurora to stage exactly that. To make it look as though I'd confirmed it with my own eyes.
Aurora tried to hide himself beneath the earth and strike again. But the shock still slamming through his skull made his body lurch, and his fingertips, digging into the soil, stopped dead.
Fighting in this state was impossible.
He wanted to kill Sapi and Lebetri. But could he actually win? He couldn't even be certain of that.
In the end, gritting his teeth, he fled deep underground.