Chapter 749 - Two Paths for the Walking Sword
A single sound.
It was a piece of information captured not by my eyes, nor by my skin, but by my ears alone. The moment I registered the cool, crisp chime, like that of a wind bell, it must have all been over.
Irori was simply standing.
And yet, her figure had vanished from before him, her presence already at his back. He looked to his right, but the blue sword was no longer in his hand. The white blade in his left was gone as well.
His swords were, at some point, back in their scabbards. Their default, non-combat positions.
That meant one thing and one thing only—a player had died and respawned without even being aware they had been cut down.
"………………Well, I'm beaten."
The words that escaped his lips were a perfect expression of his thoughts and the current situation.
It wasn't because he couldn't see what happened.
It was because he understood without seeing that he had no choice but to raise the white flag, and that was what he couldn't stand.
The momentary clash was over, leaving a space filled with silence. Feeling it would be improper to make a sound, he turned around slowly, careful not to even let his clothes rustle.
Before him, her long hair shimmering in the light, the [Sword Saint] stood enshrouded in a mystical phosphorescence as she returned her sword to its sheath. It was a sight he could only think of as more beautiful than anything else.
The swordsman, however, gritted his teeth not in admiration, but in frustration—
"Sensei."
His masculine pride taking the lead, he swallowed all his feelings and called out to her with a calm voice.
"Yes."
And yet, when she turned to face him, she was still so hopelessly beautiful.
"……………………………………A magnificent display. I am defeated."
In every possible sense of the word.
Irori accepted his loss for what it was and offered his praise and respect. In return, she… for some reason, she too offered a smile that seemed tinged with a hint of her own frustration.
"……,……—"
The slender fingers of the small hand that had released the sword pointed forward.
The moment he saw her left shoulder, scattering a faint but definite red phosphorescence—a damage effect—his breath caught in his throat, a result of a thousand different emotions.
"Irori-kun."
"…………Yes."
His name was called, and somehow he managed to reboot his virtual heart and lungs to offer a verbal response. It was all he could do; he had no capacity left to worry about his voice cracking.
The "teacher" gazed at her "student," her gray eyes filled with a multitude of emotions.
"That was magnificent. …How troublesome. I had intended to put on a one-sided show of force."
She smiled softly and said something that was, in fact, very troublesome.
Because that meant… without a doubt, it meant that—whether it was an unconscious act or a pure reflex—as a matter of fact…
His own sword, which had met her charge, had truly reached her supreme being.
It had surpassed even her… the [Sword Saint]'s prediction, if only by a fraction.
"…No, I still have a long way to go. To be honest, I couldn't follow your movements at all. Something like that could only be a lucky shot."
"Oh? Do you believe I am someone who could be struck by a mere 'lucky shot,' Irori-kun?"
So he said,
"It's just a figure of speech. At the very least, I cannot convince myself it was anything more."
"…Fufu. In that way, you may not be so similar to him, after all."
So he said,
"Unlike him, who can treat everything as a 'game,' this 'sword' of mine has been my entire life since I was a child. I may find enjoyment in it, but I have no intention of ever compromising."
"You are so earnest. …That is an unchanging, respectable quality of yours."
And so, right now, please…
"—You've grown strong. So much so that I almost didn't recognize you. And most importantly, you seem so serene."
…don't be so kind to me.
His plea could never be put into words, and so it would never reach her. She drew closer, stood on her toes, and reached out a hand, brushing Irori's hair aside to caress his forehead.
It was her habit, something she did when she truly wanted to meet someone's eyes. He had experienced it a handful of times before, and on each occasion, it had sent his heart into a terrible disarray. A troublesome habit.
He didn't run, didn't stop her… he willingly accepted it.
His past heart stirred, making a sound.
It forced him to remember.
That I was… truly in love with this person.
"…Irori-kun."
"Yes."
A voice that would never blur reached his clouded heart. From this distant virtual world, the voice of she who should have been on a celestial plane gave him warmth once more.
"Could you close your eyes for just a moment?"
"Yes."
He closed his eyes without asking the intent, without asking the meaning, without a moment's hesitation.
He didn't care if he was laughed at for being blind. His life, a life now filled with passion, was thanks to her and her alone. If she desired something of him, he would not question it.
And so, five seconds, then ten, passed by.
"—Please, you may open your eyes now."
Permission was granted, and when he opened his eyes as instructed…
"…………—"
Before him stood the woman of his first love, and a single sword.
"……,…………Sensei."
"I spent quite a long time agonizing over when I should give this to you."
"Sensei."
"There is no better time than now. Now that you have shown with your own blade that you have undeniably surpassed my expectations… and so…"
"Sens—"
"—No. You will accept it."
He knew. He knew the meaning and weight of her feelings behind the act of 'gifting a sword to another'. That was why he had tried to offer words of apology.
But she brushed them aside head-on, and…
"Irori-kun. You are my precious student."
"…………"
"I was inadequate, and could not pass my techniques on to you. That is why we could not become 'master' or 'disciple'—but it is because this is now that I will say it."
Together, as two who had each found their own clear skies.
"What in the world does any of that matter?"
She, who had truly cast aside all hesitation, kicked away the wounds of their shared past.
"You were a necessary person for me to reach where I am today. And I believe that I, too, was a necessary person for you to reach where you are now. It is far too late to be saying this, I know, but even so…"
She held the sword with dignity.
"The 'name' of our relationship is a trivial thing—you are one of my irreplaceable people."
There was no hesitation in the heart or the words she offered.
She showed her stunned "student" a smile so refreshing it was almost exasperating… The [Sword Saint], no longer satisfied with being 'supreme,' had begun to move forward.
And there, before him, she looked at Irori.
"That is why, you see."
"…………"
"That is why… please, just let me give you one little gift."
"…………"
"Of course, this isn't something I would do for just anyone, you know?"
"…………"
"This is, well—"
"……,…………"
"A small reward for my hard-working student."
He couldn't stop his knees from buckling.
And for that reason, he made one mistake: he let his "teacher," who could not have missed it, support his body. And then, unable to hold back, whether it was the fault of the virtual world's penchant for exaggeration or not…
…he made a second mistake: he let a woman see his unmanly, tear-filled eyes.
"Please, wait just a moment."
"………………Yes, for as long as you need."
As he was supported by her small, yet impossibly strong body. As he apologized to his present self for the sin of indulging in that kindness and warmth, as if to console his past self.
True to his word, after only a few moments…
The swordsman stood on his own two feet, took a step back—and knelt down on one knee. As he did, he noticed her letting out a small smile, as if she'd remembered something.
"I will humbly accept it."
"…Thank you."
He received the definite weight into both outstretched hands.
He had been bestowed a single katana. With a blade length of a little over two shaku, it was of the same orthodox make as Irori's Anima, the [Frostblade Shirosou].
The pattern on the guard was of ice petals, the color of the handle wrap a deep vermilion. Dangling from the pommel was the braided cord common to all the 'swords' she made, this one a navy blue. With a glance, he received permission to draw it, and the blade he revealed from within the scabbard was—
"I have always thought…"
"…………"
…the crimson red of a flame.
"That red would suit you, Irori-kun, not just the white and blue that remind me of ice."
It wasn't just its appearance. The 'heat' he felt on his skin just from unsheathing the blade slightly was a testament that this sword was no mere weapon of steel.
For him, a wielder of ice… He held no such doubts.
"………………Its 'name' is…"
To Irori's question, she calmly replied.
"[Crimson Moon]—Will you… try it?"
She announced it, she requested it, and so Irori could only nod. He then stood and, next to the 'Anima' he wore at his hip, he slid the sword… [Crimson Moon]… into place.
And in that instant, a freezing storm erupted, as if to tear his body apart.
Its target was Irori. That is to say, the master who had committed the impropriety. It was the furious cry of the fickle soul-fragment bearing the name of a Magia, a soul that would not suffer a half-measure to be placed beside it.
And yet, no one was moved.
"………………It was to be expected, wasn't it?"
"Actually, I was a little nervous, you know?"
Just as it had when he had borrowed the jade blade from his 'junior,' his blue sword, which had in a flash calmed its tantrum with a thought of 'if it's this, then it can't be helped,' fell silent, scattering a quiet white frost.
Which meant that something he had thought impossible had been achieved…
"With this, I can look the part at any time, without having to use my power."
"I am truly… so very grateful."
He could finally graduate from being a two-sword wielder who couldn't carry two swords.
And more than that,
"—From now on, please continue to strive."
He was about to speak but was stopped, and he thought. No matter how he tried to convey it, his feelings were too great to be expressed in words.
"For people like us… that is what matters most, isn't it?"
"…………You were right about that."
That they, who had managed to arrive at this present, were surely better off that way.
"Well…—well then. I have one other person waiting for me today, so…"
This is where their exchange of words should end.
This is where their confirmation of feelings should end.
He bowed deeply one more time, then raised his face. They shared a natural expression, and…
"Thank you for your time so late at night. …Good night."
"…Yes, good night."
One by one, they exchanged the farewell greeting they had shared countless times in the past.
He turned on his heel, and there was no hesitation in leaving her presence.
And yet, just for today. Only for today.
"—Ui-san."
He stopped his feet, turned back, and called her name without hesitation.
Called by her name for the first time, not 'Sensei' or '[Sword Saint]', she was too shocked to even register surprise. She wore a look not just rare, but utterly and completely dumbfounded.
"I was in love with you. And you will always, unchangingly, be my guide."
This was, without a doubt, a first.
He left her with a one-sided confession that needed no 'answer' and sought no 'reply'… and with a truly willful and selfish act befitting a 'student' of the [Sword Saint].
The [Sword Protector] who had gained wings became [Peerless], and flew majestically from the gate.
This was not a love to be lost, but one to be carried forward on the journey ahead.