Chapter 11: Interlude One–Snipes

I am Yaegashi Kusa. That’s who I am.

And when I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is check the clock. To confirm what year, what month, and what day it is.

This is very, very important. Because if I let my guard down, suddenly, four hundred years might have passed.

It’s important. Very important.

Once I confirm that now is truly now, I truly wake up.

The large full-length mirror the landlady left for me reflects my image in the morning sunlight. Black hair, black eyes, pale skin from working indoors. My figure, well, that’s… a little disappointing.

I wish I had a chest.

Just a little. Just a little more would be enough.

It’s been three years since I woke up; I’ve just turned seventeen, and still, I can’t expect my chest to get any bigger. It’s the family line. My mother was small too.

—That’s a shame, me.

—No it’s not, me.

I play such little games with the me in the mirror. I can’t help but smile. I’ve got a cute side, don’t I, me? I poke her nose—boop—and tie up my proud, long hair into a single bundle.

Alright. Time to do my best again today.

***

When you say polisher, it doesn’t sound very cute, so I call myself a Crystal Artist.

Of course, that’s a lie.

I’m just an apprentice who lives and works here. I couldn’t possibly claim such a title.

In this era, people live under the blessings of Tree Crystals. They’re used as universal currency, as power sources, and as the life force for friends with mechanical bodies. My job is to process those Tree Crystals.

I am a Sleeper, but even so, I have a past.

I didn’t lose my memories. And because of that, I couldn’t shake off the peaceful mindset of my old time. I wasn’t suited to being a soldier. So nobody wanted to buy me. My only option was a profession that existed to comfort soldiers, but Sensei took me in.

That’s why I’m a polisher now.

I belong to the Artisan Guild and work at a shop called Carbine.

I should finish up the power core for the Centipede I started yesterday.

I put on my work clothes and goggles and picked up the pale green Tree Crystal.

Tree Crystals grow larger when exposed to sunlight, but the cores don’t work that way.

Our job as polishers is to take rare Tree Crystals, known as core material, and polish them into functional cores suited to their intended purpose.

I placed the half-finished core material onto the workbench and, as usual, started sweeping the shop.

Sensei is lazy. And even though he’s lazy, he says things like “No one but artisans may enter the workshop!” and won’t let the landlady inside. So sweeping is my job.

Once the sweeping was done, I lifted the shutter, and right at that moment, Sensei showed up.

“Oi, mornin’, Kusa.”

Sensei is an old man.

A hunched-over old man with round glasses, a bit crooked in both back and personality.

But he’s also a very skilled polisher. That’s why I respect him. And as his apprentice, I repeated the words I’d been saying for months now.

—Good morning. Hey, Sensei. I want to polish a Monoz core.

I smiled sweetly.

Sensei always tells me I’m cute, so I smile sweetly.

But I already knew what his answer would be.

Polishing a Monoz core is practically the same as creating life. It’s a task only permitted to a fully-fledged artisan. That’s why this is almost like our greeting.

As always, Sensei would say, “You’re not ready for that, half-fledged.” And I’d reply, —You’re stingy, Sensei. And stick out my tongue.

Our usual exchange. But today, it was different.

“Well now… in that case, Kusa. Why don’t you take the next stall assignment? If you do well, you might get a core polishing request.”

—Really? I asked, just to confirm, and Sensei nodded, “Really.”

So I hugged Sensei.

***

Stall Street.

A small market town built next to any long-term company worksite.

I’d been there a few times already, helping Sensei, so I knew what to expect. Handling the shop alone wouldn’t be a problem. But I’m a delicate young girl, and the landlady is very overprotective.

So they assigned me a bodyguard.

A bodyguard hired from Doggie House, a top-tier mercenary company that only gathers the best from the artisan guild. And not just anyone from Doggie House—a rare “Dog” among their ranks. A specialist in VIP protection and base defense: Komainu Ryuta.

I’d met him a few times at the shop, so I knew him. And he was to be my bodyguard.

…Landlady, this is overkill.

Sadly, my protests were ignored.

Apparently, Ryuta was going to Stall Street anyway to sell some weapons he made as a hobby. Since he was going there regardless, he offered to guard me for free. But I felt bad about it, so I sometimes cooked meals for him.

It’s not… not feeding.

***

“Sniper guy Snipes has appeared.”

That’s what the rumors said.

I thought, ‘Ah, it’s been two years, huh.’

Before that, and the time before, and the time even before that, he’d been appearing roughly every three months. So this time, it had been a long gap.

Maybe because of that, the tales of “his” exploits sounded more and more exaggerated.

But I wasn’t really interested.

Unless Sensei was around, that promising rookie probably wouldn’t come to my shop.

No, even if Sensei was around, someone like that—being treated so carefully by the company—probably wouldn’t come to a little artisan guild shop like this.

“Yo, kid. This shop’s got skills! Well, the geezer here’s the real master, so I ain’t sayin’ the girl’s the best pick, but still…”

Saying something rude like that, the drunk Komainu brought a boy to my shop.

“…I see.”

A voice so faint it was almost disappearing.

The boy, wearing his hat low over his face, left a very weak impression. He was there, yet not there. Someone like that.

He seemed unreliable, someone others wouldn’t rely on.

That was my first impression.

That’s why, even now, after hearing he’s nineteen—two years older than me—I still treat him like a child.

That’s my secret. A small, little secret.

—Welcome. How can I help you?

Komainu was saying something rude, but he’s a customer.

I looked at him with a smile. A slight look of surprise crossed his face. But I was more surprised.

This kid’s got scary eyes.

“So? What’ll it be, kid? Wanna go to a different shop?”

Komainu, you’re so noisy. But… his judgment was probably right.

I’m still just an apprentice. Compared to Sensei, compared to other top artisans, I’m still not there. Not yet. So—

“No, here’s fine.”

Those words surprised me a little.

“Eh? You sure, kid? She’s got skills, but still—”

“If someone recognized by Koma-san says she’s good, then that’s enough for me.”

He took a breath. Drew it in, sharp.

With eyes like a bird of prey, he said, “I want to entrust it… to her.”

That’s what he said.

—Very well. May I take your request?

I couldn’t speak, so I covered my smiling lips with a sketchpad as I showed him the written words.

This was the story of the first time I received a commission to polish a Monoz core.

And this was how I met Sniper guy Snipes.

***

I had an illness of the throat.

I was supposed to be thawed only once a cure had been developed, but four hundred years had weathered those records away. Thankfully, advanced medicine let me live. But in exchange, I lost my voice.

I explained this to Snipes—Touji, who, like me, was a Sleeper.

Touji listened with a serious expression.

“I see.”

He said that.

Ah—at that moment, I realized something. Maybe others wouldn’t notice, but I did. He only looked serious. In truth, he didn’t really understand.

He wasn’t interested.

He just wanted me to start crafting the Monoz core already. He saw me as a fellow artisan, so he wasn’t interested in the fact that I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t help but smile.

I found myself… liking him a little.

Sometimes… indifference is comforting.

And so, I—

—Hey, would you… like to have lunch with me on our next day off?

That’s how I invited him.

This was feeding.

So he wouldn’t get away… from the boy I’d come to like, just a little.