Chapter 4: The Person Who Does Not Exist
Stepping into the night, Hikigaya walked out of the school. As he passed through a patch of shadow, he naturally melted into the darkness.
The shadow system he had usurped from the sun-chasing goddess was an extension of solar power. After the baptism of the Sunlight War, it had already begun to integrate into his instincts.
Among Hikigaya's various authorities, the sun-chasing power had developed relatively late. At first, its utility was narrow, picky about both target and conditions. But now, as Hikigaya's strength gradually grew, it began to reveal an aspect vastly different from his other authorities.
It was slowly manifesting as the other side of his solar power.
Though Hikigaya could not extend this system into the underworld like certain gods of myth, all the shadows upon the earth could serve as his eyes and ears — and also as his "green channel."
When Hikigaya's figure reappeared, he was already on another road, far from the school. Here, a lamp forced a patch of brightness out of the darkness.
Hikigaya appeared, slightly puzzled. This light seemed to do more than simply illuminate.
Tracing the source of the glow, he saw a strange little house.
It was a small Western-style home, with a fence and garden. But surrounding it were the ordinary, blocky high-rise buildings of the city, hemming it in tightly.
It looked like it simply didn't belong there, as if it had been forcibly squeezed in.
"Interesting," Hikigaya muttered, studying it with thoughtful eyes.
There was the scent of sorcery about it — but different somehow. Familiar.
In present-day Chiba, sorcerers should no longer exist. At least, not the committee's sorcerers.
Hikigaya wasn't a domineering person by nature. But as a warrior born from Yomi — and with the lingering aftereffects of reading too many novels in his past life — he had never trusted magicians, especially Japanese sorcerers. In his heart, he always felt they couldn't sit still without causing some incident. He had no desire for them to lurk around him when idle.
Without meaning to praise them, it remained true that the Committee was the only organization Hikigaya knew of that had never made active contact with other Campione besides him.
So when they received Hikigaya's subtle hints, they relocated most of Chiba's sorcerers. After Hikigaya's recent trip to Tokyo, "most" became "all."
Since then, to his knowledge, the only magicians left in Chiba were a handful of Egyptian priests.
But tonight, within this lamplight, he felt sorcery.
He stepped into the domain of the light. Within a few breaths, he could distinguish that this was not the work of committee sorcerers, nor the so-called modern Japanese sorcerers.
It wasn't Kyoto onmyōdō either. Most likely, a wild mage.
In Japan's magical society, such figures ranked low. In the eyes of orthodox sorcerers, they were little better than "savages," sometimes even lumped together with "oni."
And in Japan, "oni" did not mean just monsters.
If an "oni" appeared in one's domain, it naturally had to be checked.
If it was a good oni, leave it alone. If not, send it back where it came from.
Hikigaya pushed the outer gate. It swung open easily, completely unlocked.
Crossing the yard, that sense of familiarity grew stronger.
Reaching the house's entrance, he pushed open the door with ease.
Whosever home this was, they clearly weren't worried about thieves.
Inside stretched a typical Japanese-style entryway and hallway, with sliding doors at the end.
Two blonde white girls, dressed in Gothic outfits, stood smiling at him.
"Welcome!" they said in unison, as if it were perfectly natural for him to walk straight in.
Their crisp voices reached Hikigaya's ears, making his expression twist oddly.
"Guest, please come with us."
They ignored the strange look he gave them, instead taking one arm each and leading him inward.
Hikigaya let them. He was curious to see who he would meet.
Through the corridor, the girls released him and slid open a door.
Inside was a spacious hall. At its center stood a wide, classical chair — so wide it was almost absurd. A woman lay sideways upon it in lazy repose, head resting against the armrest, exhaling smoke.
Her face was exquisite, a beauty. Long hair cascaded to her waist, her figure wreathed in smoke, giving her an alluring, otherworldly air.
When her hazy gaze fell upon Hikigaya's face, it was at first dazed. Then it cleared — almost as if startled awake.
To say she was "frightened" might not be polite. But that was what it looked like.
Then she spoke.
"There are still people like you in this world?"
A line with many possible interpretations, none entirely wrong.
"I should be asking you that," Hikigaya replied, watching her curiously. "You're neither living nor dead. So what are you?"
She was no monster. But not human either.
She simply should not exist in this world.
"Please don't touch me. If you do, I'll disappear."
The woman sat up. She seemed tense, though it was clear she wasn't used to feeling tense before others.
"I can already tell," Hikigaya said. He stopped a few steps away, studying her with shining eyes. "Your time is frozen. And not the present time. You're someone who's long dead. But the workmanship of this power is crude. Who did this?"
"I'm just a dream," the woman shook her head. "When the one I wait for arrives, I'll disappear. I won't trouble you."
"Is that so?" Hikigaya tilted his head. "Sorry, but I don't accept vague answers. In fact, I know a thing or two about the power of time. If your answer doesn't satisfy me, I may not be very friendly."
He raised his hand. Threads of light leaked from between his fingers.
"For example, I could push your time forward and erase you. Or follow your timeline to track down the person you're waiting for. Of course, since I'm still a beginner, I might accidentally kill him instead."
"Is that necessary, sir?" the woman seemed troubled, even using an honorific. "He's just a child."
"Girl, for someone who doesn't exist, you're far too sentimental." Hikigaya's gaze was cold. "Those with this kind of power are destined for an untimely death. Early or late — what difference does it make?"
"My name is Yūko." Sorrow flickered in her eyes. "I am only his dream."
Hikigaya stared at her for a long moment. The light in his hand dissipated.
This woman wasn't lying.
Hell. Who the hell was this impressive? To dream up a big sister — and throw in two lolis as extras.
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