02

"Shut the fuck up."

Arin's father was dazed for a moment after hearing those words. His son, who had been so excited to learn the members of his Campaign that he was unable to sleep for days on end, had ended up with his dreams of finally living up to his noble last name crushed by a mere piece of paper. 

As the momentary shock faded, he realized he that he should stop his son from leaving. Considering Arin's current poor mental state, it was probably one of the worst ideas to allow him to go on such a long and treacherous journey as the First Embarkment. Especially since his sole company would be the only person in the world that he currently despises more than himself.

But this realization came a few moments too late, as the front door had long already been slammed shut. 

Outside of the Tetsuya Family's house—or rather, the Tetsuya Family's manor—Arin had already made his way to the sidewalk, which was currently being illuminated by elegant black light poles. Of course, Arin made an effort to avoid the bright street, instead preferring to revel in his depression within the shadows. He also had another, somewhat more grounded reason for avoiding the light.

As he made his way to his neighborhood's local Campaign Center, Arin noticed many of his neighbors were running out their houses, all equipped with a daunting load of countless tools and preparations, alongside obnoxiously joyful expressions. Of course, these Campaigners were all going to the same place as he was, but he wanted to avoid confrontation for as long as he was able to. In the best-case scenario, their excitement is strong enough that they don't even notice his presence.

For a while, Arin's questionable best-case scenario was his reality. The various boys, girls, men, and women walking in the light with big grins were completely oblivious to his presence, too caught up in their own intense happiness. But his reality suddenly crumbled as a soft hand lightly grabbed his shoulder and a familiar, somehow even softer voice spoke behind him, radiating pure kindness.

"Arin! It feels like an eternity has passed since I've last seen you! How have you been? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Arin turned to face the beautiful blonde girl as she spoke and instinctively tried to force a smile for his childhood friend, but he was unsuccessful.

With a voice devoid of humor, Arin spoke. "I've been terrible, thank you for asking."

Misinterpreting his response, she closed her eyes and covered her mouth as her face reddened with light giggles. Regaining her composure, she playfully pinched Arin's cheek and asked,

"You were always so funny... So, who's in your Campaign? Any heavy hitters, or are they all merely no-name losers?" She giggled at her own joke and almost fell into another fit of laughter before she was able to recompose herself. 

"I don't want to talk about that, Juline."

Juline pinched Arin's cheek just a little harder and asked once more, "Come on, just tell me! It can't be that bad..."

Arin, struggling to keep himself calm as he recalled his grim circumstance, replied in a defeated voice. 

"My Campaign consists of me and an Ishog."

As Arin finished his sentence, Juline's arm recoiled back and her carefree smile turned into a light frown, textured with hints of pity and disgust. She even, without realizing it, took a step back from him. Arin didn't blame her. After all, if he was in her shoes he would've done the same.

Her casual tone disappeared, and she now spoke to him as though he was a complete stranger.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I wish you luck on your campaign."

Arin did not respond, and the two nobles turned away from each other, with Juline returning to her friends a little bit behind him on the road and Arin continuing onward in darkness, somehow managing to feel even worse than he had before.

'Just the mention of that damn Ishog's existence is enough to ruin my relationship with my closest friend... That bastard!' 

***

Luckily, Arin was able to make it to the Campaign Center without having to speak to another human. Not that he knew anyone else well enough to have another interaction, anyway. 

The Campaign Center was a small, but incredibly beautiful, wooden building. It had a small and unfurnished porch raised above the ground by a wide two-step staircase, with two gold-framed glass panes on each side of the ornately carved front door. The windows were blurry from the exterior, but the light from them was enough to bathe the porch in white light. Each splinter-free plank of wood that made up the Center was seamlessly connected to the other, creating the illusion that the building was actually hand-carved from some giant tree by a master carpenter. And with the extravagant nature of the noble neighborhood, there was a chance that 'illusion' was actually just how the building was made.

Arin stepped onto the small porch and opened the ornate front door. The square-shaped interior of the cabin was completely different from the exterior, possessing a simplistic modern design. The floor was comprised of small, slightly reflective, and clean white tiles, as well as the roof. The walls did not follow this pattern, instead appearing to be made of one giant, equally reflective and white tile, with a 4-inch-thick yellow line wrapping across all four walls two thirds up. Strangely, there was not a single light fixture in the room, and yet the Campaign Center was still as bright as day.

Directly in front of Arin, on the other side of the building, lay the only furniture in said building- a rectangular block with a similar line as the walls. The block's appearance told Arin that someday before he had arrived, it had miraculously risen straight from the tile floor. It was only when Arin noticed an extremely tired woman with tied-back black hair and glasses sitting in an office chair behind the block that he realized it was a desk.

Standing in front of the desk and looking down at the exhausted woman was a tall, strong man with short brown hair. He was wearing simple but robust iron armor, with chainmail underneath. Over his shoulders was a surprisingly light-looking bag. Based on how calm and prepared he seemed, Arin guessed that this was likely the man's Second, maybe even Third Embarkment.

In his right hand was an odd orb, which seemed to be made of the same material as the walls, although it was slightly less reflective and piercingly white. The man handed this orb to the woman at the desk and she grasped it. To Arin's surprise, white arcs of electricity emanated from the woman's hand, and were quickly directed to the orb. After she electrically massaged the orb for a few seconds, she handed it back to the man. Now, it possessed the same luster as the walls currently do. 

'That never happened in the movies...'

What happened next surprised Arin further.

The man placed the orb into some sort of compartment in the front of his chestplate, and spoke.

"I'm ready."

The woman looked up at him with tired eyes and nodded somewhat sluggishly. She reached out her arm, and the same white electric arcs covered her hand once more. However, this time, she imbued the Campaigner with the strange electricity. In almost an instant, the man was drenched in volatile, but seemingly harmless white sparks. Quickly, the sparks began to cover him further and further, until he eventually appeared to be a sparkling white mass. Then, the woman ceased the flow of sparks, and the bright man-shaped light disappeared, alongside the man that had made its' shape. 

'No wonder she looks so tired, she's been doing that all day... ...But what the hell was that?!'

Sounding a little more tired than she was before, the woman at the desk called out to Arin. 

"Hey, you. Stop blocking the door, other people want to get in."

Arin hadn't realized it before, but he was actively stopping other Campaigners from entering the building. Ever-so-slightly embarrassed, he stepped to the side and out of the way of the door.

"...Are you stupid? Come to over to me, we don't have all night." 

Arin, now fully embarrassed, walked over to the woman and waited for her to ask about his details and such.

"What's your Campaign's name?"

Glad that he wouldn't have to disclose the unfortunate nature of his Campaign, he answered.

"Shippai." 

Suddenly, the woman looked at Arin with pity in her fatigued eyes. 

"Oh... Well..."

The woman reached under the desk and grabbed an orb, although it was far less illustrious than the previous man's was, even before the woman's electric treatment. She gave the pathetic orb the aforementioned treatment, but it was largely ineffective in making it appear any less unsightly. Arin wanted to ask why his orb was so... for lack of a better description, bad, but decided against it. He was pretty sure he knew the reason already. 

"Here you go... Make sure you keep track of this old thing."

The woman placed the orb into Arin's hand, and he placed it into his pocket. The woman stared at him with questioning eyes, and he followed in the footsteps of the experienced man who was in his place just a minute ago.

"I'm ready."

The woman extended out her hand, and he was suddenly bathed in bright light. At first, he was able to peer through and see the world through the blinding illumination, but the light quickly became too illustrious for his eyes to pierce through. For a few seconds, he felt truly calm in the sparkling embrace of white electricity, but his peace was quickly disturbed. 

He hadn't noticed before, but Juline and her friends were the people who 'wanted to get in' when he was blocking the door. Before he was fully transported to... wherever he was being transported, he overheard their conversation.

One of Juline's friends asked,

"What's up with Arin? He looked so depressed. Wasn't having a Campaign, like, his dream?"

"He told me that he ended up campaigning with an Ishog. I feel bad for him, but then again... I don't want to associate with someone like that. It's obviously a bad omen."

Another one of Juline's friends laughed.

"I'm not surprised that pathetic excuse for a Tetsuya would campaign with a pathetic excuse for a human. In fact, I think they're perfect for each other."

All three of them, even Juline, laughed at this remark. 

Arin was about to turn around and confront the trio before their laughter suddenly ceased and was replaced with the clamor of a crowd. The white sparks disappeared from his vision, and all he could see before him was... Burlap?

Arin, confused, took a step back. He realized the burlap he was looking at was, in fact, not a sack of potatoes, but instead a tank top on a tall and somewhat skinny young man. His baggy pants weren't any more appealing to look at as his shirt was, which looked to be, and actually was, made of random patches of cheap cloths stitched together, all rudimentarily tied to him with a thick green string. The only thing stopping him from being absolutely barefoot were a poorly made pair of waraji. When Arin looked up, he saw the thing he was dreading most to see.

The man had somewhat dark skin, much darker than the pale Arin, dirty, explosively tied-back, and long black hair, alongside a grin filled by teeth yellower than pi- Well, his teeth were actually much cleaner and well-kept than Arin had expected, but they were still yellow. The thing that gave it away most, however, were his eyes. His iris was a normal color, brown, but the 'whites' of his eyes were not. In fact, they were yellower than Arin had expected his teeth to be. 

There wasn't a single doubt in Arin's mind- he knew that this man was the man he currently hated most in the world, Renota Ishogi.