Chapter 1.8

Irorishiro Academy is multitudes larger than it appears from the outside; or, should I say, from the surface.

Because, on the surface the old Iroshiro castle complex appears much as it always did, since long before Tea Time: austere and majestic, standing as a tall and proud monument to our nation's grand history; and, through all that had transpired, remarkably well-preserved.

However, unbeknownst to outsiders, there was renovation work done to the interior of the mound that the site is built upon, to include all the facilities you would expect in an ordinary high school-meets-military training compound. So, like classrooms and an auditorium, state-of-the-art science labs and kitchens; what's called a virtual chamber, which is used to run virtual reality simulations of combat situations for training purposes.

All of it is linked together by a maze of corridors, only accesible from the unaltered surface level via secret elevator.

It'a basically an entire self-contained city, complete with ample consideration made for student housing, built along three descending levels seperated by Charm rank: starting at the top, with lavish private suites, where ths A to S rank students live; to the livable but non-excessive co-ed dormitories, set aside for the C to B rank students; and finally, the far from ideal living situation to which everyone F to D rank is condemned...the barracks.

Upon entering the barracks, the first thing one tends to notice is the SMELL--ventilation syatems be damned.

It is an unfathomably odious mixture: of wretched body odor--emanating from those who would return from a jog in the simulator, having not showered; of articles of haphazardly strewn about dirty laundry and beddings, and of all kinds of aromas of food being consumed, at all hours of the day and night, in a cramped space shared by up to 200 people.

Nobody likes living in the barracks. Except, for maybe those vile specimens whose only existence is to actively make it worse on everyone else, without a care in the world...

"Specimens" like my bunkmate, Emiko.

As I approach, she peers down at me from the top bunk, gobbling down a pack of cookies.

"Hah!" She blurts with her mouth full, spraying crumbs unto my glasses while she doesn't seem to even notice, or care. Probably the latter. "I was wondering when you'd finally get back, my famous friend!"

I hate her so goddamn much.

And immediately, I have reason to sigh--finding a 'surprise' planted on my bed.

"What the Hell is this?" I ask, carefully plucking a 'misplaced' polka dot bra from off my sheets; like the radioactive material it is, if it belongs to Emiko--which of course it does.

She giggles. "Oh? I didn't know, senpai."

"Stop calling me senpai, we're the same age. Not to mention, you're actually a guy."

"Noooooo, I'm Emiko..."

Disgusting! There's no use trying to talk sense into someone that's so far gone. It must be some kind of newly emerging mental disorder, no doubt gripping a many Charming users today, causing them to believe the Charming Form is actually their real self.

Scowling, I quickly rifle through my drawer to pick out my Irorishiro uniform, before going to wash off in the communal showers--used by us low rank scrubs--feeling empty inside.

How can I go to class, as if nothing's wrong?

Nobody wants me here, anyway!

It's for the same reason I haven't yet recieved any serious reprimands despite my long, unaccounted for absence: the fact that I'm a Legendary Z Rank Loser!

No one would even care if I died...

All because I refuse to be a fucking little girl!

I drift, unseen, through the sleekly polished black corridors, lined with bleach white student lockers--like a man fleeing for his life, but trying not to draw attention to himself.

Everywhere I look, there are little girls: chatting, and laughing, and squeezing each other from behind. Yawning and stretching, running by with toast hanging out of their mouth. Yelling out, "Moron!" Doing cartwheels, and jumping jacks, and crying big, wet tears...

I...want to scream. Slam my head against a wall, until my brains spill out.

It's my first day back at school, and I'm already having a complete mental breakdown: a scenario in which, ideally, I would go to seek out the wisdom and guidance of the school counseler, it's just that unfortunately, SHE'S A FUCKING LITTLE GIRL TOO.

The bell rings, a clock on the wall telling me it's lunchtime.

A wave of calm washes over me.

That's right...there's at least one person here who cares.

She's waiting for me in the Virtual Chamber, where I find her sitting, alone, on a cushioned bench in the observation deck of the simulation room, a sealed lunchbox set on the seat beside her.

She's staring blankly forward into the LZU monitor in front of her, showing a high definition live feed of some other girl in our school engaged in a onesided battle with a sea-based Jabberwock: being wrapped in its giant, slimy tentacles, muffling her defenseless screams.

She's my little sister, Blitz, who's always been rather..."unique," albeit in what I would call the best and most endearing of ways, in that she's quiet but not shy--always with a deadpan expression, and prone to apeaking in a low, emotionless voice. In two words, I would describe her as being "stoic," and "dependable," with a sort of a cool, relaxed aura surrounding her.

My lips smile on their own as I sneak up behind her, covering her eyes with my fingers.

"No! This kind of thing is only for adults!"

"Bro...it's my homework."

"Well, it can wait until after we eat."

I uncover her crystal blue eyes, to pick up the remote and shut off the LZU, just as the girl in the simulation is having her legs pried apart, when Blitz turns to me with her usual impervious frown.

"I'm exhausted, bro. I haven't been eating my lunch for weeks."

"Ah, you wouldn't eat at all without me, Blitz?"

She shakes her head.

"I'm sorry. I got wrapped up in a--"

"It doesn't matter. Let's go."

Blitz is a quiet, unpretentious girl, with an appearance to match: snow white hair that's tied into a messy bun, falling in thick waves along the sides of her face; wearing an oversized, long-sleeved sweater.

She takes my hand, pulling me to the virtual sim control panel in the adjacent room--to a yellow terminal featuring only a lit numerical pad, and small display monitor. And beside it, there is a tall touch display showing a long list of hexadecimal codes, each corresponding with an individual selection from a plethora of virtual scenarios to choose, numbering in the millions.

There's plenty of fight scenarios, which is what the system is mainly intended for, but the library also includes many recreational options such as "Canoing on a Lake," or "Ancient Library at 3 A.M."

Blitz, by this point knowing the particular code we're interested in by heart, quickly does the honors; and immediately, a fullscale 3D image manifests like a creeping curtain all around us: growing until it envelops the entirety of our surroundings, as we find ourselves stood atop a snowy mountain dressed in matching pink ski jackets, on the wooden balcony of a luxurious but eerily vacant ski lodge resort.

"I missed you." Blitz says plainly, sitting on the edge of the balcony, letting her feet hang.

I join beside her, talking as we eat:

"So, what's happened since I've been gone?"

"A lot. Magnet Mary got her arm bitten off by a Jabberwock, so now she's only negative."

"Ouch. It must've been drawn to her."

"E. Claire died. IED explosion. Terrorist attack in Tsurui."

"You know, I never liked her..."

"That's because you don't like anyone, bro."

"True. Anyone got promoted? Demoted?"

"Lydia to C rank. Firebird fell back to A. Amelie--the one with orange pigtails--is in C. The one with purply pigtails rose to D. Also, Annie Yoshikawa got into an argument with Red Queen."

"And...? How's her recovery?"

"Red Queen sliced off her head. She's dead."

"Oh. Sounds about right."

"Anklebreaker was in the chat, looking for you."

"Yeah? I should check him later..."

I may not necessarily "like" many of my schoolmates, based solely on principle--the majority of them being little girls--but I try to keep tabs on the goings-on around the campus.

And naturally, so does Blitz, who's quiet enough to overhear a lot of things, unnoticed.

After we've finished our lunches, we set the empty boxes aside and lean back, gazing across the quiet slopes of this quiet little slice of the world, all to ourselves--a near-exact replication of the same ski resort our family took a vacation to, just before Tea Time.

"A girl in my class was making fun of you." Blitz abruptly says.

I glance at her sharply. "You didn't--"

"I challenged her, and beat her up until she said she was sorry."

"Blitz...I thought I told you--"

She touches me on the shoulder.

"I'm always going to stick up for you, bro."

Through my pain--as a man, hearing these words spoken by a little sister who stands at less than half my height, I smile--pulling her into a hug.

"It should be the other way around..."

"Shut up! It is what it is; don't question it."

"Even though you say that, I've decided to start using my Charm Ring."

She pulls away, looking into my eyes.

"Really? You're totally joking."

"I'm serious. It'a time I put in some work. I met this...amazing girl, while I was out there, living in Old Tokyo, but I wasn't strong enough to protect her, when it really mattered the most."

I look at her, with determination.

"That's why...I have to really push myself."

"Even if it means I have to become a little girl sometimes."

She smiles, and I can tell she's proud of me.

"Alright. Just don't start using it all the time, or it'll be super awkward."

Talking with her, I feel rejuvenated. It's enough to lead me to think that, maybe, the future doesn't have to be so grim: that Dusk will be saved, I'll reach S Rank, Emiko will die in an IED explosion...and all will be perfectly right in the world.

The school bell rings--rendered fully audible within the simulation--to alert us of the end of lunch period.

So, to exit the simulation, rather than Blitz and I sending ourselves barrelling off the snowy mountain--to reach its boundaries and break out of it that way--we instead face each other, drawing our Vorpal Swords, and quickly stab each other in the neck: thereby activating the programmed "death sensors," to promptly spew us back into reality, in just the same shape we were in when we'd entered it.

"I'll see you after class." I tell her as we're hugging our goodbyes. "Thanks, sis."

She looks so serene, her face against me.

"Thanks too, big dummy."