Side Story: The Hands That Couldn't Be Joined

Side Story: The Hands That Couldn't Be Joined

Side: None

A detached house stood not far from the high school Yahiro Kōta attended.

In one of its rooms, a girl placed her schoolbag on the desk.

No, that person was not a girl.

She was less than 140 centimeters tall, with fresh, youthful skin. Her hair, somewhere between red and orange, was glossy, and combined with her childish features, she looked no older than a middle school student at most.

But this person was, in fact, a full-fledged adult.

At school, her eyes had shone with the innocence of a pure child. Now, however, they were dull and clouded. Even her cat ears and tail seemed to have lost their luster.

With sullen eyes, she took her smartphone from her bag. Then she plopped down on the bed, let out a small sigh, and called someone.

Her outstretched tail drooped limply behind her.

The call connected on the third ring.

'Hey, good work today, Tōmi-kun.'

"Yes. Good work today, Sato-san."

Tōmi Torimari, a twenty-eight-year-old police officer with Public Security.

In one worldline, she had left her name behind as a hero. Now, she reported to her superior with a thoroughly fed-up expression.

"I've just returned home from that school. There was no sign of anyone following or bugging me, so it seems neither the students nor any other organization is suspicious of me."

'Good. As expected of you, Tōmi-kun. I thought people might find it strange that you were a high school student, but you played the part beautifully.'

"It's only the first day... Who knows when I'll slip up?"

'Don't worry. You can do it. I'm sure no one will mistake you for a middle school student!'

"I'll knock you flat, you bald bastard."

'I'm not bald. Not yet. As long as I can cover it with the hair around it, I'm not bald...!'

Hearing the anguish in her superior's voice, Tōmi regained her composure and continued her report.

"However, I ended up in a different class from the target. Should I have pulled strings with the school after all?"

'No, you mustn't be greedy. Security at a rural school is nothing special. It would be better to deceive the school as well.'

"You think so...?"

'Don't worry. Even if you're not in the same class, you can still investigate the situation.'

"Understood. Also, about the 'clan'..."

'Ah, yes. As you said, joining the same clan might be a little too obvious. Let's wait and see for now. Public Security has a decoy clan prepared. Join that one for the time being.'

"Understood. But a high school student becoming an adventurer... Won't that seem suspicious, even if the target is one?"

'No. More students have been becoming adventurers lately. No one will find it especially suspicious. If something happens, feel free to use your ability as a "well-meaning adventurer who got caught up in it all."'

"Understood. Still... young people really do love that sort of thing."

Pouting, Tōmi faintly moved the tip of her tail and gazed into the distance.

'You're still young yourself. Besides, there's something romantic about the word adventurer regardless of age. If I were an ability user with an ordinary job, I would have gone to adventurer training too.'

"Is that how it is...? People often say that, for all that, you don't pay much when buying magic stones."

'Of course people are happier when the reward is higher. They probably figure they might as well say it. And it is dangerous work, after all. I can understand wanting more.'

"...We're risking our lives too. Do we get paid enough for it?"

'HAHAHA! But working for Public Security has its romance, doesn't it?'

"Exploiting our sense of duty..."

As Tōmi grew even more dejected, Sato continued.

'Well, you chose this path yourself. I'll listen to your complaints, but I won't allow you to lose heart while on duty, understand?'

"Of course. I'll continue my report."

Tōmi rose from the bed and opened the desk drawer.

She took several photographs from inside.

"I heard from the students in the class that, as the preliminary information indicated, the target is isolated at school. He has no one he could call a friend, and he speaks to his classmates only when necessary during the day. During breaks, he is usually either going to the restroom or looking at his smartphone alone."

The person in the photographs was Yahiro Kōta.

There were all sorts of pictures, from the one used for his student ID to covert shots.

"As the child of a half-elf and a half-oni, he does have a well-formed face, though."

His hair was black as ink, and his eyes an uncanny red. His skin was white as snow—or perhaps like that of a corpse. His exquisite, intelligent features carried the faintest hint of Nordic influence.

However, his student ID photo showed a stiff expression, while in the covert shots he either looked terribly flustered or hung his head with a corpse-like face.

"...Well, that may be why he seems even more unsettling."

'When someone rumored to be capable of cursing people to death is also acting suspiciously, of course no students want to get involved with him. And he's tall, so he always seems to be looking down at people.'

If Kōta had been there, he might have pressed his lips tightly together and held back tears.

The truth can sometimes become the sharpest blade of all.

"On top of that, the influence of his magic eyes makes his gaze unusually intense... To be honest, I caught sight of him looking at me from the hallway for just a few seconds, and it was a little horrifying. I had a hard time keeping that from showing on my face."

'...This may be heading in a bad direction.'

Though they were speaking over the phone, Tōmi could almost feel Sato's brow furrowing.

"You think so too?"

'Yes. Most Japanese people currently harbor negative feelings toward ability users. It seems their impression of them has been shaped by the handful of ability users who commit flashy crimes.'

"Is that all there is to it?"

'Well, there may also be some image manipulation from other countries.'

Sato gave a wry smile, then immediately returned to his serious tone.

'A persecuted person reaches the limit of their patience one day and lashes out. It's an extremely common story.'

"Is there a possibility that the target will end up like that?"

'There is. In fact, fewer people end up anywhere other than one of two paths: lashing out or becoming shut-ins.'

As her superior made that assertion, Tōmi nodded inwardly in agreement.

'Based on the profiling we've done so far, the target is the type to become a shut-in. But becoming an adventurer may have brought violence closer to him. We need to remain cautious.'

"He's also a promising adventurer, more importantly. We need to somehow guide him in a positive direction."

'Exactly. The shortage of personnel in ability-related fields is even worse than the shortage in the police.'

The two of them sighed together.

By global standards, Japan had a large number of ability users. Their quality was also high.

But on a global scale, the number of ability users was overwhelmingly insufficient to begin with.

Although the trend mentioned earlier had kept the issue from becoming apparent in Japan, a fierce struggle to secure ability users had already begun in some countries.

That was another way of saying that an enormous number of dungeons had appeared.

'People aren't only concerned about the threat posed by dungeons. Interest in magic stones as a new energy source is also growing. No, not just magic stones. Every country desperately wants anything related to abilities.'

"Yes."

'We'll also deal with the "customers" trying to approach the target. Guide him skillfully so that he doesn't do anything strange. And if they break through our defenses, we'll be counting on you to handle the defense.'

"Understood. But what are the laws against espionage doing right now...? I don't think the personnel in this house and I alone can deal with them."

There were two other Public Security agents in the building where Tōmi lived, playing the roles of family members. Neither had an ability, and neither specialized in violent confrontations.

In the first place, the two agents playing her family were also handling other assignments.

'The confusion surrounding "Day of Regression" blurred those matters, and then the cabinet of the time resigned en masse to implement the Dungeon Act. The cabinet that followed as an interim measure was also left in tatters by the spiritual disaster in Tokyo.'

"Should we consider it a stroke of luck that even the newly appointed Minister of Defense survived?"

'It's ironic. The previous Minister of Defense had been extremely popular, while his successor was an unremarkable politician. And yet, the fact that he wasn't invited to the meeting of the prime ministers at the time ended up being what saved him.'

"That person is the prime minister, even if only temporarily? ...I should ask, at least: could he be behind this situation?"

'Who knows? We can only suspect political grandees in novels. We can't defy the wishes of those above us.'

"Well, it does sound a little like a conspiracy theory..."

As she said that, a deep vertical wrinkle formed between Tōmi's brows.

It was obvious that both she and her superior suspected Interim Prime Minister Izuhara.

'Oh, right. I have work to do as well. I'll end the call for now, Tōmi-kun.'

"Yes. Take care."

'You too. Oh, and one more thing.'

"What is it?"

'Apparently, "tsundere" is effective on today's high school boys.'

"Your information's outdated, you bald bastard. Go drown in Tokyo Bay."

With a vein bulging on her forehead, Tōmi ended the call as her superior spouted his teasing nonsense.

She tossed her smartphone onto the bed, then sat down in a chair with an enormous sigh.

"...What am I supposed to do? Seriously."

She pinched one of the photographs and waved it limply, pursing her lips.

She looked like a student faced with an especially troublesome homework assignment.

"If he were as easy to understand as some president or another, this would be a lot easier."

After letting out yet another sigh, she began devising a plan.

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The United States, Washington.

"That's what I've been saying over and over!"

In one of the White House's rooms, two men were arguing.

"That's why we need to prioritize America now! This country alone! The people of this country alone! Otherwise, America has no future! I'm not saying we should neglect other countries! I'm saying we need to focus our strength inward!"

A gentlemanly man with brown hair slicked back and a neatly trimmed mustache raised his voice.

Vice President Miguel Tyler. He had cast off his usual impassive expression and looked ready to slam his fist into the desk.

"That's precisely why! For America's sake, we need to join hands with the entire world now! Please understand, Miguel!"

The man on the other side of the desk roared with equal force.

He had short-cropped black hair and dark skin. He was extremely tall, and his muscles bulged beneath his suit.

"How can you protect the country with such naïve ideas? Face reality!"

Vice President Tyler was tall as well, but even he had to look up at the man's imposing frame.

Nevertheless, the vice president glared at him fearlessly, his eyes bloodshot.

"Remember that you're the President, 'Samuel'!"

Samuel Freeman.

At Vice President Tyler's words, he straightened his back.

"I'll say it again. That's precisely why, Miguel. The age of thinking only about one's own country is over. We need to join hands in the face of this disaster occurring on a global scale."

"Are you suggesting that all the countries should hold hands and run along happily together? It can't be done. There is no such thing as friendship in diplomacy...!"

"Even so, that isn't a reason to give up on joining hands. Someone has to be the first to extend their right hand."

President Freeman gently extended his right hand.

Faced with it, Vice President Tyler furrowed his brow even more deeply.

"...Those are pretty words, Samuel."

"I won't become a politician who can't speak pretty words, Miguel."

As their gazes clashed, the sudden ring of a phone cut between them.

Still looking at Vice President Tyler, President Freeman took a smartphone from inside his jacket with his left hand.

"Hello, this is Freeman."

'Sam! This is an emergency! A spiritual disaster has occurred in L.A.!'

"What!? Is that true, Jim?"

President Freeman's eyes widened, and he immediately turned toward the elderly female secretary who had been watching their conversation nearby.

She understood and immediately turned on the television.

A glimpse of hell appeared on the screen.

'We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. We have received reports that a television crew broadcasting live has been caught up in a spiritual disaster.'

'This is terrible! A spiritual disaster is occurring in Los Angeles! Something invisible is throwing cars—aaaahhh!?'

'All citizens, evacuate immediately! I repeat, all citizens, evacuate immediately! Underground shelters are useless. Proceed to the designated anti-spiritual facilities—'

Overturned vehicles. A diner going up in flames. People screaming and fleeing in panic.

As those images appeared on the screen, President Freeman clenched his teeth.

"...We've just received word here too. I'll convene an emergency meeting, Samuel."

"No. I'll leave that meeting to you."

After shaking his head at Vice President Tyler's words, President Freeman immediately headed for the window.

"Wait, Samuel!"

Ignoring him, President Freeman opened the window and leaped outside.

In that instant, light enveloped the President's massive body.

"Hup!"

With a spirited cry, he soared high into the sky.

His appearance was far removed from that of a president in a formal suit.

A skin-tight red bodysuit. A blue star emblazoned on his chest. A golden mask covering everything from the top of his head to his nose.

With a cape reminiscent of the night sky streaming behind him, President Freeman began to fly.

"I'll need your support, Jim!"

'Of course! Escorting you is my job!'

He switched the call from his smartphone to his earpiece and hurried toward Los Angeles.

Why had Samuel Freeman become president at the young age of forty-seven?

Was it because he had been a Marine? No.

Was it because he was Black and gay? No.

It was because he was, without question, the toughest and most dependable man in the country.

"Shine, O Star Mantle!"

'Unique Ability: Starship'

The cape fluttering behind President Freeman shone with a powerful radiance. An enormous amount of magical power was released, accelerating his body at tremendous speed.

American ability users were generally lacking in spiritual talent. In a fistfight, they could lose not only to special forces soldiers, but even to ordinary people trained in martial arts.

But there was always an exception to every rule.

Samuel Freeman. His talent as an ability user ranked among the finest in the world, and combined with combat techniques honed in the Marines, it had earned him fame as the 'strongest ability user.'

Watching the President literally fly away, Vice President Tyler pressed a hand to his forehead.

"No...! That's not it, Samuel...!"

During the many spiritual disasters that occurred in the United States, President Freeman had performed acts that could only be called heroic.

The vice president gazed sadly at the immensely popular man.

"That's not the work a president is supposed to do. That's not it...!"

Only one person heard the voice in which he struggled to contain his pain.

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"Wait for me, innocent people...! I'll definitely save you!"

As he flew, President Freeman continued accelerating with a desperate expression on his face.

"Why? Because I am...!"

At an altitude and speed where ordinary people would struggle even to breathe, he shouted.

"Your 'big brother'!!"

All of humanity are brothers, and the President of the United States is humanity's eldest child.

That was what Samuel Freeman declared in a presidential speech.

In one worldline, he would die—just two years from now.