Academism (6): A Friend Named Coste
Several weeks have passed. And at last, my works have reached the completion stage.
Structures filling the workshop. Pieces neatly covered with cloth. Dissection sketches and blueprints covering the walls. After dozens of incisions and rearrangements, the human form was finally drawing close to the ideal paradise I envisioned.
A faint formalin scent lingers in the cold workshop air. Under the surgical lights, I lift the sword resting quietly on the workbench.
"Hehe… it's finally complete."
The blade is long. A central structure pieced together from vertebrae. A frame woven from processed ribs. Joints organically interlocking inside the hilt. But it's not just bones slapped together, you see.
Multiple chemical treatments. Compression. Drying. Rearrangement. And structural reinforcement from within. I redesigned every fiber of the bone tissue itself.
"In truth, the human skeleton is quite an efficient structure."
I run my fingertip slowly along the blade. Under the dim light, the pristine white bone gleams coldly.
"Especially the ribs—their curved form disperses impact so beautifully."
"With a bit of processing and chemical treatment… they become far more flexible and sturdy than steel."
"Haa… humans have always been excellent material from the start."
"I put special effort into this part. Normally, it holds as a single spine structure, but…"
Click. Moving the hidden frame beneath the hilt, the internal structure rearranges organically. The long blade splits at the center into two curved blades. Just like ribs parting.
"The moment it deploys, it unfurls like ribs into dual blades."
"Isn't it a beautiful transformation?"
"A weapon can't just cut well and shatter things effectively, you know."
"That tension in the instant of change."
"The silhouette crumbling as the structure rearranges."
"And the deployment itself must captivate the audience like a performance."
"…You think so too, don't you, Reika?"
…
The workshop is silent. But that's fine. True friends understand each other without words.
I cradle the sword gently to my chest.
"…Lately, everyone's been looking for you."
"The Misono family, in particular, has been putting on quite the show."
"Pressuring the Valkyrie district to expand the missing persons search."
"Forcing searches of the exchange participants' workshops."
"Even last night, they pressured the dorm supervisors to double the search teams."
"But they'd never imagine… you're right here by my side."
It's truly ridiculous. People always fixate on the results, blind to the truth displayed right under their noses.
Spring rain falls quietly outside the window. I lean back in my chair, resting the sword on my lap and carefully stroking the bone frame with my fingertips.
"Our first meeting wasn't exactly pleasant… but I'm glad we've grown this close."
A faint smile escapes me.
"…This world is still so unfamiliar to me."
"They smile and greet me politely on the surface, pretending to be kind… but they can't hide the emotions underneath."
"Why is some commoner representing our prestigious academy?"
"That gloomy freak only makes creepy works."
"She'll cause trouble someday."
"Ahaha…"
…
"They act all elegant on the outside… but inside, they're utterly hideous."
I lower my gaze to the sword in my arms.
"But you're different."
"You know everything about me now."
"Where I came from. What I want to create."
"And how treacherous the path ahead will be."
My fingertip slides along the spinal blade. I feel the illusion of the bone trembling faintly beneath my touch.
"To endure a long, arduous journey… what you need above all is warm memories with a true friend."
"So I've prepared a new name for you."
Faint purple light glides over the blade.
"From now on, your name is—"
I pause for effect.
"Coste. It means 'ribs'."
"Encasing the heart."
"Protecting life."
"Forming the most beautiful curves at times. It suits you perfectly."
"…Please take care of me from now on, Coste."
A moment of silence. Then I turn my gaze.
The center of the workshop. The massive work slumbering under the cloth. My first completed exhibition at last. I can't suppress my smile.
"And tomorrow is the exchange event."
"Exciting, isn't it?"
"Everyone will surely have an unforgettable impression."
Knock knock. A cautious knock echoes from beyond the workshop door.
"Yumesakai student."
A calm, refined voice. Familiar.
"Please prepare for departure. The vehicle has arrived."
Time's up already. I glance outside. The spring rain has nearly stopped, faint dawn light spreading over the grounds.
The day before the exchange. The day to move the works to the venue.
"Yes."
I reply softly and rise slowly. I survey the workshop once more.
Structures neatly arranged under surgical lights. Works slumbering under white cloth. Walls filled with dissection sketches and blueprints. Countless red revision lines layered on. Torn and reattached designs. Traces of failed pieces even. The process of endless incisions and rearrangements through sleepless weeks permeates the entire space.
What a lovely sight. Like the backstage just before a full exhibition.
I gently stroke the structure under the cloth.
"Handle these with care."
"The central piece is especially delicate in balance."
"Even a slight impact could disrupt the entire composition."
I add after a thought.
"…Oh, and never touch the frames with bare hands."
"The surface treatment chemicals haven't fully stabilized yet."
They look beautiful, but they demand so much attention.
I slowly sheath the scabbard over my coat. Then I quietly cradle Coste, as if transporting a precious instrument.
Click. Opening the workshop door reveals several people waiting in the hallway. Wild Hunt teachers. Dorm supervisors. Even Trinity Justice Realization Department students. Overkill security.
But my eyes go first to the front of the hall. A student in black uniform stands quietly. The others naturally keep their distance.
The Wild Hunt Student Council President.
I bow carefully.
"President."
The president glances inside the workshop. The cloth-covered works. Wall-filling blueprints. Even the sheathed sword in my arms.
After a moment, a calm voice follows.
"This public exhibition is held in the name of Wild Hunt."
"Most exchange participants are looking forward to it."
"I hope you deliver results worthy of the academy's honor."
So very Wild Hunt. Formal and precise, yet laced with expectation.
I smile demurely.
"Of course."
"You'll all be quite satisfied."
The president nods ever so slightly.
"The vehicle is ready. Please proceed."
With that, the group springs into motion. Teachers check the works for transport. Justice Realization students secure the perimeter.
I walk slowly outside. Even early morning, the grounds teem with students.
"Whoa…"
"That's Yumesakai Rakuka…"
"She's the rep for the public exhibition?"
"Heard the faculty evaluation was sky-high."
Scattered cheers and applause. Some wave, others gaze with admiration. All this anticipation before anything's begun.
I raise a hand and wave lightly. Then weave through the stares to the vehicle.
A black transport bus, ringed by Justice Realization students on alert. Quite secure.
"Please board."
I nod quietly and step inside. A few students already seated, faces tense. I settle by the window, hugging Coste close. I stroke the sheath soothingly, like comforting an old friend.
Then, someone speaks cautiously from the side.
"Excuse me."
A Trinity Justice Realization student eyes me with a stiff expression.
"If it's alright… may I sit beside you?"
I look up at her and smile softly.
"Of course."
She sits with impeccable posture. Black hair. Immaculate uniform. Unwavering poise. Pure Trinity.
She bows her head quietly.
"Hasumi Hanekawa, Justice Realization Department, Trinity General Academy."
"I'll handle your protection and safety during the exchange."
Hasumi… I've heard the name.
"…Hasumi."
I smile faintly.
"I hear you're quite renowned in Justice Realization."
Hasumi blinks.
"…I'm the surprised one."
Her gaze drifts quietly to the sheathed sword in my arms.
"Yumesakai Rakuka."
"Your name's already spreading among Trinity's sister academies."
"…Especially as Wild Hunt's representative."
A soft laugh escapes me.
"Ahaha… You're too kind. I'm still so lacking."
I brush it off outwardly. Inwardly, I calmly review my work. It was meticulously crafted. The structure beautiful, the flow solid.
But still far from enough. Docent level at best. It could leave a strong impression, but not enough for Maestro.
A true Maestro doesn't just shape forms. They dominate the entire space, designing the viewers' gaze, breath, emotions, and thoughts into one grand exhibition.
I haven't reached that realm yet. Not quite.
The bus starts moving slowly. Scenery drifts past the window.
I glance at her.
"Do you… like art, by any chance?"
Hasumi lowers her gaze thoughtfully.
"…Honestly, I'm not sure. Haven't had much chance to appreciate it."
"…If it's alright, may I explain a bit? Art has far more fascinating stories than you might think."
Hasumi watches me quietly, then nods faintly.
"…That would be an honor."
I can't help but smile. Explaining what I love to someone else is pure joy.
"Where to begin, then."
I ponder, then look out the window.
"…Kitsch is a good starting point."
I tap the window lightly.
"Kitsch originally meant overly cheap, vulgar imitations."
"But amusingly, people loved them. Flashy, straightforward, quick to stir emotions."
"So perhaps kitsch is the most human art of all."
My voice fills the bus quietly for a while. Kitsch. Avant-garde. Romanticism. Expressionism. How the concept of art evolved with eras. Gesturing at times, time flies by.
Hasumi, who started with stiff nods, soon listens intently.
"…So from that perspective, art is a record of what humans have found beautiful through time. Standards of beauty shift by era, but artists' desire to leave unchanging meaning never does. Oh, and when it comes to art's meaning, we can't skip vandalism's origins…"
I pause.
…It's gotten quiet somehow.
"Hasumi?"
"…Sorry. A bit overwhelmed."
"You truly love art, Yumesakai."
I smile unwittingly.
"Yes, I love all forms of art."
Then, an announcement from the driver's seat.
"Entering Trinity district shortly."
I look out the window.
And.
"…Wow."
A soft exclamation escapes. Massive stone buildings. Soaring spires. Arcades beneath stained glass. A space compressing religion, authority, and ideal order.
"…Such a beautiful city."
Hasumi gazes out too.
"Trinity is strict about upkeep."
"It's demanding, but it leaves a good impression on visitors."
The bus stops before a vast plaza. Justice Realization students disembark first to secure the area. I step off slowly, Coste in arms. Cool wind brushes my cheek.
Then.
A strange sound from afar.
"Kieek—!!"
…Hm?