Seitenshi and Kisara
****
"You really went and did it this time, my dear Darling No. 2," a voice purred from the shadows.
"Did I?" Yotsuba Mahiro replied, taking a slow sip of coffee brewed over an alcohol lamp. He leaned back, basking in the cool, artificial air of the morgue basement in Gouda University Affiliated Hospital. "It felt pretty average, to be honest. I wasn't even really trying."
Across from him, Dr. Sumire Muroto sat, as always, in her provocatively tight outfit barely concealed by her white lab coat. She propped her chin on one hand, her wavy long hair cascading over her shoulder as she regarded him with a playful, teasing glint in her eyes.
"Fufufu~ 'Average,' you say?" she chuckled. "Let's see... the naval fleet stationed in the bay was completely annihilated. The ground self-defense forces suffered thirty percent casualties. Electronic equipment across three wards was fried by the electromagnetic pulse from your little light show, causing economic losses in the billions of yen. And because the glaciers in Tokyo Bay are refusing to melt, the local climate has undergone what appears to be a... semi-permanent change toward a new ice age...."
She stirred the bubbling, dark liquid in her beaker-coffee as she listed the damages, her tone as casual as if she were counting loose change.
"Is that so? Only that much?" Mahiro clicked his tongue, a flicker of what seemed like genuine disappointment crossing his face. "I'd hoped it would at least bring the Tokyo Area to its knees for a week or two."
"Ara? Such a destructive boy~" she hummed. "But then again, since you're calling it a 'miracle,' isn't it normal to pay a price? There's no such thing as a free lunch, ne? And it's certainly better than being completely wiped off the map by Scorpio. What's more... sacrificing so little to eliminate a full Zodiac Gastrea? No matter how you look at it, that's a bargain."
"Heh heh... a miracle?" Sumire Muroto's smile turned deeply meaningful. She then tilted her head, gesturing with her eyes towards the far side of the room. "If killing Scorpio was the miracle you created... then what about that child? Whose miracle does she belong to?"
Following her gaze, his eyes fell upon a naked young girl lying on a cold, stainless-steel dissection table. She appeared to be about six or seven years old, with a frail, undernourished body that reminded him painfully of the abandoned Cursed Children on the streets. The only distinct feature was the short, pale blue hair that fell over her eyes, obscuring them from view. Mahiro had found her adrift in the sea moments after Scorpio's body had dissipated into nothingness, and had brought her here along with the precious blood sample.
"With over six hundred and thirty thousand distinct Gastrea viral factors identified in her system... and a viral erosion rate exceeding fifty percent... yet she still maintains a stable human form." Sumire Muroto stood and walked over to the table, her fingertips tracing a light, clinical path along the girl's arm. A mysterious, fascinated smile played on her lips. "Young man... you've truly created an impossible miracle."
This girl was, in her own way, even more astonishing than the deceased Scorpio. According to Mahiro's report, she was a "remnant" left behind after the Zodiac's elimination. But both he and the doctor knew the unspoken, incredible truth: this girl was Scorpio. The core consciousness, the human origin, given form once more.
Although it defied all known science, even the brilliant Sumire Muroto had been startled when her tests first confirmed the hypothesis.
"How is she doing now?" Mahiro asked, his voice losing its earlier casual edge.
"Currently, her vitals are stable. The Gastrea virus shows no signs of active replication or increased erosion. Damaged neural pathways in her cerebral cortex are showing signs of repair... though I cannot estimate a timeline for her regaining consciousness."
Her findings mirrored his own innate analysis. The reason for her coma was clear: the lingering effects of Cocytus, the magic that had frozen her mind. Yet, something peculiar was happening. Deep within the frozen landscape of her consciousness, there were flickers—tiny, nascent signs of mental activity reviving.
Perhaps the life force of a Stage Five was simply that tenacious, capable of rebooting even a frozen psyche... Or perhaps, because he had granted the Seitenshi her miracle, the world had seen fit to return one to him in kind....
As this thought crossed his mind, a soft, genuine, and wholly unguarded smile touched his lips.
"Nee, young man," Sumire Muroto's voice broke his reverie. She had silently returned to her swivel chair, crossing her legs with practiced grace. The narrow, hip-hugging skirt she wore strained to contain the voluptuous curve of her thighs. Her long, sculpted legs were sheathed in ultra-thin black stockings, their sleek texture outlining an alluring silhouette. "How about sharing a little of that compassion of yours with the rest of the Tokyo Area's citizens?"
"Doctor," Mahiro said, finally tearing his gaze away from her legs and standing up. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "Are you playing the advocate for those people now? Do you truly believe they are worthy of my compassion?"
"Sou ka... You look just like the Tendo Family's avenging ghost," Sumire Muroto met his gaze squarely, a hint of surprise in her eyes. She was intimately aware of Tendou Kisara's tragic past, and of Satomi Rentaro's driving motivations. The comparison was apt. Yet, while she understood the source of his disdain for the corrupt structures of the Tokyo Area, a part of her still struggled to comprehend the depth of it. Would anyone truly make an enemy of an entire civilization for the sake of a handful of cursed children?
"I don't see the problem," Yotsuba Mahiro stated flatly, picking up his jacket from a nearby table and slipping it on. "Aren't the stolen generations—the Cursed Children—avenging ghosts in their own right? So what does it matter if there's one more like me?"
"Your philosophy... it stands in complete opposition to Rentaro-kun's," Sumire mused, a sigh of genuine feeling in her voice. She saw the inevitable conflict brewing. "I think the two of you will inevitably clash over this fundamental divide."
"So what if we do?" Mahiro's voice was calm, yet carried an undercurrent of steel. "If I can't even overcome a small obstacle like him, how can I possibly set my sights on changing the entire world?"
He turned his back to her, adjusting his collar. Before she could formulate a response, he spoke again. "I'm leaving. I have to attend the Seitenshi's victory banquet soon. Oh, and Doctor," he added, glancing back. "I've left the Stage Five blood sample here. I'm counting on you to work your magic. And that girl... I'm entrusting her to your care for now."
"You really are a heartless man, dumping all the hard work on me and then running off..." she complained, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Don't forget my payment!"
"Hai, hai, I'll remember, you avaricious old hag," he shot back with a familiar, fond rudeness.
Accompanied by the fading echo of Sumire Muroto's theatrical complaints from the hospital basement, Yotsuba Mahiro stepped out into a city forever changed. Several days had passed since Scorpio's cataclysmic arrival, and the initial panic had gradually subsided into a weary, shell-shocked calm.
Just as the Doctor had said, the collateral damage was extensive. The intense electromagnetic radiation released by his Fourth Phase Shift had acted like a city-wide EMP, frying countless circuits and leaving a trail of burned-out electronics in its wake. Repair costs were astronomical.
And then there was the ice. The glacier he had forged in Tokyo Bay showed no signs of melting, its sheer mass and magical nature causing a semi-permanent shift in the local climate. The previously muggy, late-summer weather had been replaced by a persistent, unnatural coolness. As for the temperature at the epicenter over the bay, Mahiro couldn't be sure, but the wind blowing inland was distinctly chilly. Well, at least we'll save on air conditioning bills this summer, he mused wryly. The immense, glittering glacier had already become an eerie, artificial wonder, a constant reminder of the battle visible from the city's skyline.
....
"You're late!"
The sharp, familiar voice cut through his thoughts the moment he arrived at the opulent Holy Residence. There, standing at the grand entrance to the ceremonial hall like a vengeful guardian spirit, was Tendou Kisara. Dressed in a stunning evening gown, she had her hands planted on her hips, her slightly narrowed eyes filled with a potent mix of impatience and reproach.
Her appearance was a world away from when she had greeted him at the office just days prior. Back then, after the dust had settled, Kisara had—in a rare, unguarded moment—given him a fierce, desperate hug. Immediately after, her face had flushed a brilliant scarlet, and she'd stammered that it was merely a "formal gesture of gratitude for services rendered to the Tokyo Area." The sheer tsundere whiplash had been highly amusing.
Of course, Enju and Asaka had been there too. Enju-chan had voiced her loud, childish dissatisfaction with Kisara claiming "her" Mahiro-nii, while Asaka had simply stared at him with those big, expressive eyes, filled with a silent storm of resentment and blame.
"Mahiro-sama! You big baka!" she had cried, before launching herself at him with Initiator-speed, hitting his chest with the force of a freight train. She buried her face in his jacket, refusing to let go, her voice muffled and thick with tears as she listed her grievances. She blamed him for going without her, for facing such danger alone, for being a reckless idiot. Wouldn't it have been better to just run away? What if he had... died?
But with the Seitenshi, Kisara, Asaka, Enju, and all the children of Arcadia counting on him, running away was never an option he would entertain.
"Oi! I feel like your gaze is drifting off somewhere strange!" Kisara's voice snapped him back to the present. Mahiro offered a placating smile.
"How could it be? I was just thinking that President Kisara's dress is exceptionally beautiful today," he deflected smoothly.
Though he was covering for his momentary lapse, he wasn't lying. Kisara's attire was truly captivating. A long, elegant gown adorned with ruffles that cascaded like bouquets of black roses clung to her delicate frame, accentuating a graceful and exquisite figure. The open-neck, off-the-shoulder design artfully exposed her collarbones and shoulders, making her skin appear even fairer against the dramatic black fabric. She had tied her usually loose hair up high with a matching black silk ribbon. The color itself carried an air of mystery and noble elegance, and it suited her perfectly.
For today's grand banquet, she had even—uncharacteristically—swapped her practical, easy-to-move-in boots for a pair of elegant high heels.
"It would be nice if you dressed like this more often," he commented. "Don't always wear your uniform; it's a waste of such a great figure and face."
"Baka! How is that possible?!" Kisara muttered, her cheeks tinging pink. She was still the same old miser, even when the company was doing well. "Do you know how much this costs? Besides, today is different! I woke up hours early to get ready for this banquet. Where would I find the time normally?"
As she spoke, she unconsciously straightened her posture, puffing out her chest slightly. The peaks covered by the sheer black fabric bounced with a tantalizing rhythm.
Hiss—
Is it really that... resilient? he wondered, impressed. Perhaps only Miori from the Defense Ministry could rival that...
"And look at you!" she continued, steering the conversation back to him with a critical eye. "Didn't I already tell you? The Seitenshi-sama herself is presiding over an awards ceremony for the Promoters who performed great deeds. I specifically said to dress appropriately!"
"Am I not dressed appropriately?" He looked down at his attire. It was a formal suit, and a high-quality, custom-tailored one at that.
"At least wear a tie! Seriously! You and Satomi-kun are both so hopeless." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Here, let me help you. Don't move!"
Before he could protest, Kisara was already standing directly in front of him, well inside his personal space. Her hands, sheathed in elegant black opera gloves that reached to her elbows, reached for his collar. She began buttoning the top button of his shirt, then produced a long, slender gift box from her handbag. Inside lay an obviously expensive silk tie.
"This... is a gift. For defeating Scorpio..." she said, her voice softening almost imperceptibly.
She then took the tie out and began the arduous task of tying it. Throughout this process, their proximity became increasingly intimate. Perhaps it was the special perfume she had applied for the occasion, but her scent was more intense than usual—a sweet, alluring fragrance that teased his senses. She seemed completely unaware of how compromising their position was. If Mahiro were to lower his gaze just slightly, he would have an unobstructed view down the front of her off-the-shoulder dress.
"Ahem. I feel like we're a little too close here," he pointed out.
"Don't distract me! Hmph, why is tying a tie so complicated?"
Alright, he took it back. Kisara was now acutely aware of the awkwardness. A lovely blush was rapidly spreading from her cheeks down to her neck. Flustered, the strength in her hands involuntarily increased, giving the tie a sharp, choking pull.
"It's no use! This kind of delicate work isn't suitable for me!" she declared, having somehow managed to twist the tie into a sad, lopsided knot that vaguely resembled a crushed butterfly. Just as she was about to give up in frustration, Mahiro's hands came up and gently covered hers.
"Don't give up so easily, President Kisara," he chided softly with a sigh.
Then, like a master puppeteer guiding a novice, he manipulated her gloved hands, moving them with a practiced grace in front of his collar. First, he patiently guided her fingers to undo the botched attempt. Then, following the memory in his own muscles, he led her through the precise folds and loops, creating a perfect Windsor knot.
"See? All done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "You were just too nervous, President."
"...Doesn't this just mean you tied it yourself?" Kisara stated flatly, her blush deepening. "And if you knew how to do it all along, you shouldn't have made me do it!"
"You were the one who insisted," Mahiro countered, spreading his hands in a gesture of pure innocence.
"...Yare yare, never mind." Kisara clearly had no intention of pursuing the topic further into dangerous, blush-inducing territory. She swiftly pulled a silver pocket watch from her handbag, snapping it open with a practiced flick.
"Time's up. Now listen, although I've told you before, I'll say it again. This ceremony is being held by taking away Seitenshi-sama's extremely precious administrative time. Because of that, everyone involved has a tacit understanding to conclude it as quickly and efficiently as possible. So, when she asks you questions, you only need to answer 'Hai' or 'Iie.' Keep your answers as concise as possible, and absolutely do not ask any questions in return. Do you understand?"
"Hai," he replied, the picture of obedience.
"Good answer."
Under Kisara's stern, repeated admonitions, and with her officially acting as his accompanying partner for the banquet, he offered his arm. She linked hers with his, and together they finally stepped into the pristine, gleaming white halls of the Holy Residence.
However, just as they crossed the threshold, the sound of the grand doors closing behind them, Kisara suddenly turned her head. She looked up at him, and for a fleeting moment, her usual sharp demeanor melted away, revealing a gentle, sincere smile.
"Although I've already said it... I still want to say it again—arigatou, Mahiro-kun. For everything you've done for us."
This time, he didn't offer a verbal reply. Instead, he simply answered with a soft, understanding smile of his own, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
They followed a prim attendant deep into the heart of the residence. Ahead, a grand, curved marble staircase swept upwards, its steps covered by a plush crimson carpet. At the summit, seated serenely upon an ornate throne, was the Seitenshi. The hall was cavernous, with a vaulted ceiling from which glittering chandeliers hung. Well-dressed gentlemen and ladies of high society mingled beside tables laden with refreshments, all under the watchful eyes of the stoic honor guard.
"Yotsuba Mahiro-san, welcome."
The Seitenshi, a vision in pure white, rose gracefully from her throne. She descended the steps, her radiance seeming to outshine the very chandeliers, a warm and genuine smile gracing her features.
Although this wasn't his first audience with the Holy One—and he'd even been in closer, more private contact—he had to admit that her beauty was many times more striking and solemn in person than through a monitor's screen. She was as pure and untouchable as a saint, a feeling completely opposite to the alluring, profound black that Kisara embodied. It was said the queens of the Holy Residence were renowned for their beauty, and the current Seitenshi was considered the most beautiful of them all.
"Thank you for attending this banquet amidst your busy schedule," she said, her voice like gentle bells.
"You honor me too much, Seitenshi-sama," he replied with a polite nod.
"Then, as the savior of the Tokyo Area, what are your thoughts on this occasion?" she asked, formally beginning the ceremony.
"No special thoughts," he stated plainly. Then, remembering the most crucial point, he added: "Just please remember to pay me when you have time."
A collective, scandalized gasp seemed to suck the air out of the room. The moment the words left his mouth, Kisara, standing a step behind him, was immediately met with a barrage of disapproving glares from the nobility, as if blaming her for her subordinate's appalling lack of decorum. Kisara herself brought a hand to her face in a classic face-palm of utter mortification.
Although... she thought desperately, even if the payment really hasn't been settled yet, you can't just say that here!
Yet, a tiny, traitorous part of her mind couldn't help but acknowledge that in his own, bizarre way, Mahiro-kun was incredibly reliable—never forgetting the mission's bottom line, even at a moment like this. He was completely unlike a certain other Promoter she knew!
"Hehe~ Mahiro-san still enjoys his jokes, I see," the Seitenshi chuckled gracefully, effortlessly smoothing over the social friction. "As for the payment, we naturally will not go back on our promise. It will be transferred in full immediately following the banquet's conclusion."
A joke? He hadn't been joking in the slightest; those were his genuine feelings. But since she had confirmed the payment, he was content to let it slide.
"However," she continued, her tone becoming more earnest, "to have someone of your unparalleled talent within the Tokyo Area makes me, as its leader, feel profoundly honored. Yotsuba Mahiro-san, thank you for everything you have done for our home. I sincerely hope you will continue to fight for the Tokyo Area in the days to come."
The Seitenshi had originally wanted to ask, "Will you continue to give your all for the Tokyo Area?" but she couldn't quite bring herself to phrase it so directly, softening it at the last moment. Based on their past interactions, she was beginning to understand his mercurial personality. Perhaps it was a bit narcissistic of her, but she liked to think that sometimes, when she appealed to him not just as the ruler but as herself, it could motivate him. But more often than not, she knew it was the promise of yen that truly sealed the deal. And, quite refreshingly, Mahiro-san often seemed completely indifferent to her status as the Holy One.
Just like now—
"Thank you for your praise, Seitenshi-sama." Mahiro offered a slight, casual bow.
The gentlemen below immediately began murmuring amongst themselves. By strict protocol, a formal knight's kneeling bow was expected here! A mere nod of the head? This was disrespectful! The arrogance!
But the Seitenshi paid their displeasure no mind. She gracefully stepped forward, raising her hands to command silence, and declared in a clear, solemn voice that echoed through the hall,
"Ladies and gentlemen, have you all heard? The hero standing before us will continue to be our shield! He is the one who defeated the Zodiac Gastrea, Scorpio! He is the one who defeated the rogue mechanized soldier Hiruko Kagetane and the Initiator Hiruko Kohina, originally ranked IP 134! He eliminated three mechanized soldiers from the terrorist organization, the Five Wings Syndicate! Based on these unparalleled achievements, I, in agreement with the Promoter oversight committee, hereby recognize this as a 'Special First-Class Military Achievement'!" She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "And thus, we have decided to raise Promoter Yotsuba Mahiro's official IP ranking to 134!"
Though the audience's applause was perhaps less enthusiastic than it could have been, born more from obligation than genuine admiration, it still filled the hall.
The Seitenshi then turned her gaze fully back to Mahiro, her smile returning, now tinged with a hint of playful conspiracy.
"Mahiro-san, do you accept this decision?"
"It is my honor," he replied formally.
The Seitenshi leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a mischievous whisper meant only for his ears. "To rise from rank 970 to 134… this speed of promotion is surely unprecedented, is it not? Perhaps it will be recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records." Her expression then turned slightly apologetic. "However, I must apologize. I have not publicized the full truth of your 'miracle.' Instead, I have sealed the information. You… you won't blame me for this, will you, Mahiro-kun?"