Chapter 5: Since I’ve Hidden My True Nature Until Now, I’ll Keep It That Way

On the way back from the bookstore.

In the end, we ended up reading for ages.

Because of that, the sky was already dyed crimson.

The sparse foot traffic from before entering the store had grown thicker, likely due to rush hour.

"You live alone, right?"

"Yeah."

Youta suddenly asked me that.

"How’s that like? Pretty comfortable, I bet?"

"...Well, it’s relaxing, sure."

My place is a small standalone house.
A dilapidated shack on the verge of collapsing.
That’s why I could buy it dirt cheap.

"The downside is people tend to treat it as a hangout spot—"

"Wait, do you even have enough friends for that?"

"Ugh. ...No, not really."

Youta was sharp as ever.
Truthfully, my social circle isn’t wide. My family’s dead, and I live off their inheritance.
Hardly anyone would bother visiting my place—or so it should’ve been.

"But why ask that?"

So I decided to deflect.
Youta’s parents were still around, with one younger sister.
Their family relationship wasn’t bad, and if I recalled right, his sister used to adore him.

"...I’ve been thinking about moving out someday."
"I see."

When she muttered it faintly, I understood why.

—Probably because her family, who only sees her as Luna, made it unbearable.

Even when skipping classes, she still came to school because she didn’t want to stay home.
But though I knew, I didn’t voice it.

"If you want, you can drop by my place instead?"

"Really?"

Mid-conversation, a hulking man leaned against a telephone pole at the corner.
Easily over two meters tall (>6.56 feet), his muscular frame loomed.
Despite it being June already, he wore a trench coat and a fedora.
Naturally, he stood out like a sore thumb.
His expression was hidden behind sunglasses, clearly not some upstanding citizen.

But then he—

"Haruto! Long time no see!"

—cheerfully jogged toward us with a booming voice.

"Haruto, who’s this?"

When Youta whispered, I tried to explain, but—

"The name’s Kurosaki Kongou! You must be Youta! Haruto’s always talkin’ ‘bout how much you help ‘im!"

—his deafening shout cut me off.
Hearing this guy’s voice up close was brutal.
My eardrums nearly shattered from the volume.

"At least lower your voice...?"

Exasperated, I shot him a glare, but Kongou just shrugged like what’s the big deal?
It was irritating, but calling him out would only encourage him.
This guy had a knack for needling people on purpose.

"Kurosaki? Wait, are you Haruto’s relative?"
"I’m like this guy’s honorary big bro! We live apart, so we don’t meet much, though!"

Unfortunately, Youta took the bait.
When Kongou offered a handshake, she reciprocated.
Maybe being called "Youta" had something to do with it.

"Haruto’s gotten way more human thanks to you, huh? I owe ya one!"

"Uh, yeah..."

Youta’s arm was practically yanked off from the overenthusiastic shaking.
For her—now a girl, though she wasn’t exactly tall before—it must’ve felt like being caught in a typhoon.

"So, what’s your business, Kongou? You didn’t just come to say hi."

I’d had enough of this nuisance.
Not bothering to hide my annoyance, I cut to the chase.

Every passerby was staring at us.
Kongou’s every move was attention-grabbing by default, amplified by his natural loudness.

"Sorry, sorry! Got carried away! Just came to deliver the investigation results you asked for!"

With that, he reached into his chest pocket.
The motion was straight out of an action movie villain drawing a gun—exactly like what we’d seen at Youta’s place before.
In fact, some bystanders visibly tensed up.
But all he pulled out was a data terminal.

"...And?"

"All good. Should be exactly what you wanted, man!"

Kongou left as abruptly as he came, mission accomplished.
The typhoon had passed.
Silence returned, and the rubberneckers dispersed, bored.

"Sorry, Youta. Something came up. Rain check on visiting my place."

When I glanced over, she was fixing her disheveled silver hair with a hand mirror.

"...Fine."

Pouting reluctantly, she still agreed.
As an apology, I decided to walk her home.

"Ah, Haruto-san! Good evening! And Luna-neechan, you're back too!"

As we approached Youta's house, her younger sister Hoshiko came out to greet us.

Hoshiko was in her first year of middle school.
She must have just gotten home from club activities, still dressed in her sailor uniform.

"Long time no see, Hoshiko."

"You’re still as close with Neechan as ever, huh!"

This kid’s energy rivaled Kongou’s.
Every time she spoke, her body swayed, and the little tuft of hair bouncing on her head moved in sync.
Unlike that guy, though, it wasn’t grating.

Hoshiko had wavy black hair in a short cut, fair-skinned but unmistakably Japanese.
Under normal circumstances, no one would assume she and Youta were siblings—sisters, rather?—if they stood side by side.

But the people of this world had fully accepted it.
Some even praised them for being such a well-matched pair of sisters.

"Are you stopping by today?"

"Nah, I’ve got things to do."

"Hmm… I wish I had a boyfriend like Haruto-san too."

"—Hoshiko!"

Youta, who had stayed silent through her sister’s teasing, finally spoke up.

"Me and Haruto aren’t like that."

She glared sharply.
Even Hoshiko wilted under the pressure.

"Sorry, that was too much."

She bowed her head, looking genuinely chastised.

Well, Youta’s anger was justified.
After all, she—no, he—was still fundamentally male.
Being called lovers with a same-sex friend would naturally be unpleasant.

"...Just don’t do it again."

Youta muttered stiffly, clearly embarrassed.
Though she held frustration toward her family, it wasn’t hatred.

"I’m heading out. See you tomorrow."

At my farewell, Youta only gave a short "Yeah," while Hoshiko bowed apologetically.

Returning home, I settled into my four-and-a-half-tatami room that looked ready to collapse at any moment.
The worn-out tatami, the wobbly low table, the paper-thin shoji screen that barely functioned as a divider—even after a year here, it remained a shabby little space.

Immediately, I loaded the received data onto my terminal.

[Amurtaat: Investigation Report on Luna Hikotaka & the Seed of Darkness, Including Purification Methods]

The text appeared in an arcane script. I skimmed the table of contents first, then dove deep, ensuring not a single word escaped me.

…I lost track of time.

By the time I finished, night had fallen, and my stomach growled in protest.
Satisfied, I stood and headed to the kitchen—a miracle it still functioned at all.

Too fatigued from concentration, I settled for just boiling water.
My stockpile of emergency rations was plentiful.
Cup noodles, to be precise. A favorite for requiring no skill and offering instant gratification.

Three minutes to go.
Just as I set the timer, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

"Ugh…"

The caller ID read Kurosaki Reona.
Ignoring it wasn’t an option, so I answered.

"Long time no hear, Haruto."

"...What do you want?"

"My, my. Do I need a reason to call?"

Reona’s tone was deliberately provocative. I sighed.

"Is it so strange for a sister to check on her little brother? Onii-chan was worried too, you know. You could stand to check in occasionally."

"We’re not blood-related. And neither is Kongou."

I shot back flatly at her smug emphasis on "Onii-chan." Legally, we weren’t siblings at all.

"Sigh… I did call you ‘Haruto’ properly this time. What’s the issue?"

"Stop writing those ridiculous articles."

I was referring to the tabloid piece I’d seen at the bookstore earlier.
Claiming Youta was part of Legion was taking the joke too far.

"It’s strategic, darling. Making it sound like sensational nonsense keeps people from taking it seriously."

"And that epithet? You’re not embarrassed writing that crap?"

"—Oh? Would you prefer I wrote the truth? ‘Amurtaat, the Thunder Emperor’?"

Her retort made me want to slam my head on the table.

"That’s a name you made up, too."

"Ah, but you loved it back then. ‘Shall I show you the power of the Thunder Emperor?’ Remember that little performance for Luna-chan?"

"Guh—"

I had no comeback.
Reona—no, Leonia—laughed triumphantly, declaring victory.

—Because Kurosaki Haruto was nothing but a fake name.

My real name was Amurtaat.
A former executive of Legion, tasked with monitoring the Silver Witch—Youta—by getting close to her.