AURA 10
The witch had infiltrated the classroom that morning.
Everyone’s reaction was a shade of surprise.
Without any exaggeration, all eyes were gathered upon her. Wholly undeterred by those looks, the witch systematically surveyed the room. Here eye alignment locked perfectly onto me.
“Hold on a second…”
I did wish to meet her. I carried the medal in remembrance. But at that very moment, my mind was compromised of nothing but danger signals.
“Satou Ichirou. The data was correct in that you were stationed in this platoon.”
This time, the attention was on me. The curtain rose with my name as the opening credit. My heart rebounded explosively.
“No, my name is… Satou… but… I’m not… really… sure about that right now.”
I tried standing to explain myself, but all that came out was incomprehensible groans.
The witch approached. I wanted to flee. I couldn’t move. She stopped before my eyes. It was undoubtedly the blue witch. My head sporadically boiled over. My thoughts wouldn’t organize. My arms dubiously shook. It was a stiffness befitting the rising star of the creeper industry (as if), and even I could clearly tell I was repeating comical motions. I felt the contours of my face might fall limp. Of all else, with my own power, I couldn’t control the spontaneous shaking of my lip. In that very moment, I was an anime that had run out of production budget. The very incarnation of shoddy animation.
“What’s all this then?”
“What is she wearing?”
“Who?”
“You know her, Satou?”
“Your girlfriend?”
“Wow~, amazing! That’s so coool~!”
“Nuts.”
“Cosplay?”
“A joke?”
… I must have imagined Kobato-san’s innocuous voice mixed among the wild flight of speculation. But a large majority of my classmates were weirded out. Cringing, as they call it.
What? Why? Did I do something? The medal, a part of my brain whispered softly. The witch came to get it back. Then as long as I returned it, so too would peace return. I immediately put that plan in action, thrusting the artifact out towards the witch.
“A-are you looking for this!?”
But with one glance at the medal,
“… Plenipotentiary Power Holder, report on investigation into Satou Ichirou.”
That mysterious voice resounded across the classroom.
‘Investigation Report: It has been Made Clear that Satou Ichirou Boasts an Adequate Nature to Serve as a Collaborator’
The classroom returned to silence once more.
“… The heck was that?” a lone cold response output.
The danger signals had already reached max. At this rate, my normal life was set to collapse. Of all things, why did it have to be school in the middle of the day? Why couldn’t she measure out a time where we could be alone?
Her form that had been so bewitching last night had become so painful to look at in broad daylight. What a peculiar reversal. My classmates had identified Risa as a rampant cosplayer. And I was an acquaintance of this cosplayer. If I was wrapped up in such an incident, there would be no conceivable way to spend my time free of rumor.
Only one, I noticed there was a single way to return alive.
Right, if I could prove this watch was the ‘real thing’. If I could demonstrate this plenipotentiary power holder was a mechanical intelligence from another world. If I could establish the existence of monsters called informational entities.
The minuses should convert to plusses.
“Umm, everyone please look at this!” I held it high for the class to see. “The truth is—”
My fingers strongly gripping the medal pressed up against what seemed to be a button.
“Huh?”
I almost dropped the medal that had suddenly begun to change in my hand. Barely catching it by the chain, the piece leisurely spun in the air.
With such timing, the medal spoke.
‘Miracle, dress uuuuuuuuup!’
Not bearing the slightest resemblance to that somber adult voice, an outrageously anime-esque exclamation. The rose but inlay bloomed into a large flower revealing a glimmering dome portion smack dab in the center.
Piroriropiroriro♪
A synthetic chip-tune discharged.
‘Dress Chaaaaaaange, Evening Styyyyyle!’
Along with that exclamation, the glistening heart of the flower lit up in seven colors. If there was any requiem played on the road down to hell, I had always believed it would be a stately, classical tune. I had never doubted that fact. Yet now, all my beliefs had been smashed to smithereens. My soul was being dragged to Sheol by the radiant beats of an anime at full throttle.
A while passed before the uproar died down and the medal reverted to its original form. The back kindly featured the logo of the production and distribution company.
“It’s freaking BANDAI!!”
A superdreadnought class toy maker of the real world whose name required no introduction. It was quite a surprise to learn that BANDAI was actually the god of death.
“… That’s the magic medallion from the female-targeted anime, ‘Dress Idol Yuna,’ airing on Sundays from eight thirty to nine… I saw it when I was a kid… Don’t tell me Satou was an otaku?”
I don’t know who, but someone offered an explanation. An expert explanation at that.
Meaning. The fact it was a toy meant— would that make it all a lie? Where did the lies end and the truth begin? I wasn’t optimistic enough to think the medal was the only lie about it.
Presumably all of it. The witch, and the other world, and the monster, it was all lies.
“It’s over.”
My school life. My high school debut. My peace. It was all demolished. My premonitions of a school life were thrown into a cross-cutting shredder, torn into such tiny pieces that not even a first-rate stalker would be able to steal a read.
“Unit Identification Satou Ichirou has been designated the position of slave to serve in the mission of searching for the dragon germinal. The will of the network is transmitted to every activity body, and the will of all activity bodies become one as they disperse across the network. We pray that you will be a good tool.”
Holding up a staff like Moses as he parted the red seas, the witch grandly declared. I was no longer able to offer any reaction. My soul had long since sunk into a deep darkness.
From what I heard later, it seems I had fainted on my feet.
AURA 10
The witch had infiltrated the classroom that morning.
Everyone’s reaction was a shade of surprise.
Without any exaggeration, all eyes were gathered upon her. Wholly undeterred by those looks, the witch systematically surveyed the room. Here eye alignment locked perfectly onto me.
“Hold on a second…”
I did wish to meet her. I carried the medal in remembrance. But at that very moment, my mind was compromised of nothing but danger signals.
“Satou Ichirou. The data was correct in that you were stationed in this platoon.”
This time, the attention was on me. The curtain rose with my name as the opening credit. My heart rebounded explosively.
“No, my name is… Satou… but… I’m not… really… sure about that right now.”
I tried standing to explain myself, but all that came out was incomprehensible groans.
The witch approached. I wanted to flee. I couldn’t move. She stopped before my eyes. It was undoubtedly the blue witch. My head sporadically boiled over. My thoughts wouldn’t organize. My arms dubiously shook. It was a stiffness befitting the rising star of the creeper industry (as if), and even I could clearly tell I was repeating comical motions. I felt the contours of my face might fall limp. Of all else, with my own power, I couldn’t control the spontaneous shaking of my lip. In that very moment, I was an anime that had run out of production budget. The very incarnation of shoddy animation.
“What’s all this then?”
“What is she wearing?”
“Who?”
“You know her, Satou?”
“Your girlfriend?”
“Wow~, amazing! That’s so coool~!”
“Nuts.”
“Cosplay?”
“A joke?”
… I must have imagined Kobato-san’s innocuous voice mixed among the wild flight of speculation. But a large majority of my classmates were weirded out. Cringing, as they call it.
What? Why? Did I do something? The medal, a part of my brain whispered softly. The witch came to get it back. Then as long as I returned it, so too would peace return. I immediately put that plan in action, thrusting the artifact out towards the witch.
“A-are you looking for this!?”
But with one glance at the medal,
“… Plenipotentiary Power Holder, report on investigation into Satou Ichirou.”
That mysterious voice resounded across the classroom.
‘Investigation Report: It has been Made Clear that Satou Ichirou Boasts an Adequate Nature to Serve as a Collaborator’
The classroom returned to silence once more.
“… The heck was that?” a lone cold response output.
The danger signals had already reached max. At this rate, my normal life was set to collapse. Of all things, why did it have to be school in the middle of the day? Why couldn’t she measure out a time where we could be alone?
Her form that had been so bewitching last night had become so painful to look at in broad daylight. What a peculiar reversal. My classmates had identified Risa as a rampant cosplayer. And I was an acquaintance of this cosplayer. If I was wrapped up in such an incident, there would be no conceivable way to spend my time free of rumor.
Only one, I noticed there was a single way to return alive.
Right, if I could prove this watch was the ‘real thing’. If I could demonstrate this plenipotentiary power holder was a mechanical intelligence from another world. If I could establish the existence of monsters called informational entities.
The minuses should convert to plusses.
“Umm, everyone please look at this!” I held it high for the class to see. “The truth is—”
My fingers strongly gripping the medal pressed up against what seemed to be a button.
“Huh?”
I almost dropped the medal that had suddenly begun to change in my hand. Barely catching it by the chain, the piece leisurely spun in the air.
With such timing, the medal spoke.
‘Miracle, dress uuuuuuuuup!’
Not bearing the slightest resemblance to that somber adult voice, an outrageously anime-esque exclamation. The rose but inlay bloomed into a large flower revealing a glimmering dome portion smack dab in the center.
Piroriropiroriro♪
A synthetic chip-tune discharged.
‘Dress Chaaaaaaange, Evening Styyyyyle!’
Along with that exclamation, the glistening heart of the flower lit up in seven colors. If there was any requiem played on the road down to hell, I had always believed it would be a stately, classical tune. I had never doubted that fact. Yet now, all my beliefs had been smashed to smithereens. My soul was being dragged to Sheol by the radiant beats of an anime at full throttle.
A while passed before the uproar died down and the medal reverted to its original form. The back kindly featured the logo of the production and distribution company.
“It’s freaking BANDAI!!”
A superdreadnought class toy maker of the real world whose name required no introduction. It was quite a surprise to learn that BANDAI was actually the god of death.
“… That’s the magic medallion from the female-targeted anime, ‘Dress Idol Yuna,’ airing on Sundays from eight thirty to nine… I saw it when I was a kid… Don’t tell me Satou was an otaku?”
I don’t know who, but someone offered an explanation. An expert explanation at that.
Meaning. The fact it was a toy meant— would that make it all a lie? Where did the lies end and the truth begin? I wasn’t optimistic enough to think the medal was the only lie about it.
Presumably all of it. The witch, and the other world, and the monster, it was all lies.
“It’s over.”
My school life. My high school debut. My peace. It was all demolished. My premonitions of a school life were thrown into a cross-cutting shredder, torn into such tiny pieces that not even a first-rate stalker would be able to steal a read.
“Unit Identification Satou Ichirou has been designated the position of slave to serve in the mission of searching for the dragon germinal. The will of the network is transmitted to every activity body, and the will of all activity bodies become one as they disperse across the network. We pray that you will be a good tool.”
Holding up a staff like Moses as he parted the red seas, the witch grandly declared. I was no longer able to offer any reaction. My soul had long since sunk into a deep darkness.
From what I heard later, it seems I had fainted on my feet.
