Truth be told, from the nickna Fortress, Inari had imagined a hulking, mountain-like man. Instead, what stood before her was… a surprisingly handso young man.
Sharp, narrow eyes. A straight, well-ford nose. Thin, glossy lips. Smooth, short black hair, neatly parted down the middle. His height was around 190 cm, dressed in a pale blue shirt and black jeans that gave off a sense of cleanliness.
Overall, he gave the impression of a cool young man. Yet in his posture, one could glimpse a certain lack of confidence.
“’Tis our first eting. I am Kogami Inari.”
“First ti. Suzuno Shion.”
When Inari and Shion introduced themselves, the young man averted his gaze slightly and replied, “Doma Takeru. Pleased to et you.”
Sohow… it carried a sense of distance.
“Ah, yes, of course. This is a gift. I knew not what thou wouldst prefer, so I bought rice crackers in Asakusa.”
Inari pulled a box of gift-wrapped senbei from her divine concealnt storage. Takeru accepted it with a quick, “Ah, thanks,” but the conversation faltered there. Since it would not continue on its own, Inari took it upon herself to change the subject.
“In truth, we ca both for sightseeing and to explore the dungeon here. Might we ask thee to tell us a little of it?”
“Ah, uh… well, maybe we could go to a café… no, but…”
“Mm? Did we co at a poor ti? If so, we can return later.”
“Ugh. No, that’s not it…”
“Mm?”
Inari tilted her head, and Takeru muttered sothing softly. Shion didn’t catch it—but Inari did.
“Even should one invite visiting girls into one’s house, surely no one would assu ill intent.”
“Ah, I see. I understand.”
Shion nodded in sudden comprehension, then seized Inari’s hand and all but shoved Takeru back inside.
“Excuse us.”
“Wha—wait…!”
“Don’t resist. I’m strong.”
“F-fine! Fine, I get it!”
And so, under Shion’s physical persuasion, they entered Takeru’s ho.
The interior was stylish, with a log-house feel and even a fireplace. The furnishings weren’t overly extravagant, but tastefully chosen, giving the living room the atmosphere of a high-class hotel lounge. At the sa ti, there was a sense of lived-in warmth. Sitting on a sofa likely ant for receiving guests, Inari and Shion settled in.
“Oho, a fine ho indeed.”
“Mm. Good.”
“Ah, glad to hear that. I’ll bring drinks… would you prefer tea to juice?”
“No need to fuss. Truly, anything will do for .”
“I’d like juice.”
“Got it.”
What ca was apple juice in glasses, the color alone looking delicious.
“It’s local—well, nearby. I like it, myself…”
“Mm. Then I shall partake.”
Inari took a sip. Fresh and flavorful—it must have been freshly pressed juice. It felt different from what was sold in Tokyo.
“Mm… delicious. Is Kusatsu fad for its apples?”
“No, from Nagano. Close enough, you know.”
“O-oh… I see…”
Kusatsu and Karuizawa were within easy bus reach. No wonder such things were stocked here. Embarrassed by her mistake, Inari drank quietly while Shion nodded along, sipping her own juice.
“And that talk of ill intent just now… did soone say sothing to thee?”
“Uh… well.”
“I rember. The ‘Too-Young Ace Swamp War.’”
“Ugh.”
“What nonsense is this?”
“Mm… may I?”
“No, I’ll tell it.”
Since Shion already knew, there was no point in hiding it. Takeru sank into the sofa and began to recount it.
The Too-Young Ace Swamp War.
It had happened ten years ago—a struggle over one boy.
His na had been Yamato Takeru. At the re age of twelve, he had broken into the rankings, drawing national attention. It was a ti when Japan’s situation had finally begun to stabilize, when people had just started to rember what safety and peace felt like.
Perhaps that was why. A young ace candidate who kept fighting bravely even after losing his family to the monster disasters—such a figure drew all manner of people. So-called relatives, so-called support groups… many employed outrageous sches, even manipulating public opinion, in order to claim him.
And in the midst of that chaos, the one who lent Takeru his aid was Aoyama Yuuya, who at the ti had not yet beco the Secretary of the Awakener Association.
With his intellect-based job, Speed Brain, Aoyama used both his ability and his budding network of connections to secure guardianship of Takeru. He even changed the boy’s surna and sent him to Kusatsu, where no one knew him.
“Kusatsu was Mr. Aoyama’s hotown. I stayed with his family for a while.”
Now, at twenty-two, he was Japan’s third-ranked top-ranker. Of course, much had happened along the way. Perhaps as a lingering effect of those events, he now felt great anxiety at the thought of leaving Kusatsu.
“Well, because of that, they called Kusatsu Fortress. And… I’ve co to like the na.”
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