UPDATE TERBARU

Chapter 1

"Iroha, your aim is insane!"

"You're a total pro, seriously, a pro!"

Yeah.

I gave a modest reply over the team voice chat. Since I’ve been grinding this game for years, being this good is only natural—or so I imply with my unspoken pride.

"......Now, now, it’s all thanks to you two."

But, honestly, the praise makes me genuinely happy. That last aim was sharp enough to give even me the shivers. It’s a secret that my hand is shaking as I reach for my water, and the rim of the glass is clinking against my front teeth.

"KASSEN."

A full-dive action game modeled after the battles of the Warring States period that has swept the gaming industry in recent years. With a 360-degree field of vision that makes you feel like you are truly in the midst of war, immersion through audio, and high-level controls and strategy, it is undeniably a "god-tier game." It boasts the number one player count both domestically and internationally by a long shot, and there are many professional players who specialize in "KASSEN." As for my skills, well, I'm somewhere in the upper-middle tier.

"Hey, hey, seriously, you should aim for it. Go pro."

"You could totally make it!"

"Ah, well—"

...No way.

I gave up on that path a long time ago. For the time being, what I need to do right now is—

—Beep, beep, beep.

"Oh no, it's time for work! Sorry, gotta log off. See you at school."

I jumped up as if flicked by the sound of the alarm. I disconnected as fast as possible and removed the contact lens-type device, commonly known as a "Smart Con," which was emitting a faint heat, from my eyeballs.

Ah, today was Thursday.

Along with my vision, my thoughts returned to reality. The hideaway cafe in the residential area where I work five days a week, BAMBOO cafe, is for some reason busier on Thursdays than on weekends. My hand instinctively reached for the energy drinks lined up on the edge of my desk, but—

—No wasteful drinking allowed per four pasta meals!

I got slapped by the note I had written myself and pulled my hand back. For a struggling student—or rather, a struggling high schooler—covering tuition and living expenses with a part-time job and a meager allowance, wasting money is strictly prohibited.

"......I'm off, Yachiyo."

I said this to the acrylic stand of Yachiyo, the goddess enshrined atop my bookshelf, and clattered out of my one-room apartment.

A struggling high schooler who can't even enjoy a celebratory drink after a victory has only one means of transport: walking. Conquering the fifteen-minute door-to-door journey in ten minutes, I slipped through the automatic doors of BAMBOO cafe, and—

"Why is the hamburger steak cold!"

"Hey, where's my order?"

"Oi, oi, what's going on here!"

"I-I-I-I'm so sorry!"

...Wow, it's a battlefield here too. Alright, let's do this.

"Good morning!"

With the greeting common to restaurants that never changes whether it's day or night, I headed to the staff room, changed in thirty seconds, and dove into the battlefield.

"Manager, I put the new hamburger steak in the oven, please handle the rest!"

"You're a lifesaver, Sakayori-san!"

"Hayashida-san, I'll clear this, so can I ask you to take the order for table eight?"

"I'm counting on you, Sakayori-san. Seriously, you're a god!"

"So, what happened with Mio-chan?"

"Sakayori-senpai!"

"It's not 'what happened'!"

Mio-chan, my junior part-timer who was standing there frozen and sweating buckets, and a customer who was inexplicably even more soaked than she was, turned to look at me simultaneously.

"I asked for some water, and this clerk dumped a whole pitcher on me."

...A whole pitcher?

"I-I-I-I'm sorry! I tripped while trying to bring the water..."

Ah, I see. Alright, in times like this.

"Let's apologize together. We are terribly sorry!"

Today, too, BAMBOO cafe is operating as usual.

"Taking my break."

Having somehow survived the storm-like peak time, I retreated to the staff room, completely exhausted. Just as I was about to open a clip of Yachiyo's stream...

"Senpai, I'm sorry about earlier!"

Mio-chan, who had taken her break first, stood up as we swapped places. Azuma Mio, who just joined last month, has the motivation, but her skills don't seem to keep up with it. Every day, she unleashes a wide range of mistakes, from heartwarming ones that make you chuckle to serious incidents that make you go pale.

"Really, I am reaaaaally sorry! I-I'm just clumsy. I'm sorry for making you train a useless rookie."

"No, no, following up on a cute junior is what makes being a senior worth it."

"Ugh... A god. You're a god. Why don't you ever get angry, Senpai? Could it be that you think I'm not even worth getting angry at?"

There's no way that's true. What kind of nasty person would I be?

"If I got angry at you without listening, I think you'd stop being able to do even the things you can do. Besides, I think you learn quickly, Mio-chan. You handled all the orders for that group earlier, which really helped."

"Do you really think so? You're not just being nice~~~~?"

"No, no."

"Thank goodness. Okay, I'll do my best after my break!"

Saying that, Mio-chan cheerfully flew out of the staff room. I immediately heard the sound of her tripping over something in the hallway, but let's believe in Mio-chan.

"......Phew."

I sighed and leaned my weight against the back of the pipe chair.

For a moment, I let my eyes go out of focus, aimlessly looking at the "Wash Your Hands!" poster on the wall. From there, my gaze slid to the next one, "Notes on Alcohol Sales," then "How to Wear the Uniform Correctly," and finally,

"It's already July..."

I landed on the calendar.

"Seven... fourteen, twenty... three?"

Looking at the calendar, I unconsciously count how many days until payday. Calculating backwards from there to figure out how many yen I can spend per day is a sad habit I've acquired in the year since coming to Tokyo.

Okay, looks like I'll manage this month too. Maybe I could have had one energy drink... No, I can't. A high school girl living alone in Tokyo—it wouldn't be strange for anything to happen. I want to save money for emergencies, even if I have to push myself.

—Today's hundred yen is tomorrow's thousand. The you of tomorrow will hate you for it.

It's frustrating, but what my mother said was the truth. It wasn't just about money. My mother was always right. Ruthlessly correct, mercilessly logical, and backed by experience so solid it made you want to look away.

That's why I couldn't stand it and ran away from home.

In the winter of my third year of middle school, after one of our many clashes, I decided to execute the plan to move to Tokyo I had been harboring for some time. On the condition that I cover all my tuition and living expenses myself, I left my hometown in a manner almost equivalent to running away. I think I probably became free. But,

—I bet Iroha will come crying home soon enough. She's soft, after all.

My mother's words reached my ears from time to time, no matter how far away I was. As clearly as if she were standing right next to me.

"......Precious—melody is—flowing—into your heart..."

Unconsciously, I was humming Yachiyo's song. It's my favorite song of hers. I pulled my earphones out of my bag's side pocket and dove into the rest of the track. Soothed by the gentle singing voice, I finally relaxed a little.

Cutting through the electronic sound, I could hear Mio-chan's apologizing voice from the hall again. The battle will likely resume once my break is over.

※

"Ah, Iroha's here."

"Mornin'."

The next morning, I met up with Roka and Mami at the usual spot on our usual route to school. It's the first time seeing them since the game yesterday. Their virtual avatars are elaborate and stylish, but in reality, these two are even more attractive. It’s like a different light is shining just on them, even though they're waiting in the shade.

"Did you make it to work yesterday?"

"The bags under your eyes are terrible. Did you sleep properly?"

"I sleeeept."

"Iroha's 'slept' means, like, three hours anyway, right?"

Roka, eyebrows furrowed in worry, immediately retorted. Even my abbreviation to avoid worrying them didn't get past Roka.

"That's basically pulling an all-nighter~. Just hearing it makes me sleepy."

Mami, perhaps actually becoming sleepy, yawned lazily. I have to be careful; staring at her makes the drowsiness contagious.

"What were you doing? Work?"

"Nope, prep and review. Finals are coming up soon."

"If it's you, Iroha, you'd easily take first place even as you are now."

"That kind of complacency is forbidden. It's a world where if you show an opening, you'll be shot in the back at any moment."

Oops, I accidentally let a "Mother-ism" slip out.

"That's a 'Mother-ism,' isn't it?"

Yes, it is. When I made a sheepish face realizing I'd been seen through, Mami put her hand on my shoulder with a triumphant look and nodded. What is this?

"Iroha is always in 'KASSEN' mode, huh."

Just as Roka says, my battle doesn't end when I close the game or leave BAMBOO cafe. Rather, this is where the real game begins. I must defend my position at the top of the grade, which I've held since the first term of my first year, with my life. No, it's not just about exam grades.

"Ah, it's Sakayori-san. Good morning."

"Sa-Sa-Sakayori-senpai! Good morning!"

"Sakayori-san, good morning. Thanks for your help the other day."

Ah, good morning everyone.

"Sakayori-san is pretty again today."

"Crap, I just greeted Sakayori-senpai!"

"Lucky you, man."

Well-behaved, excellent grades, skilled in both literary and military arts. Only by maintaining the persona of the perfect high school girl can I face forward.

—"Impossible" is just an excuse for the lazy. I only tell you to do what I was able to do.

Only by doing this much can I finally catch a glimpse of my mother's back, far ahead of me.

Well, no matter how much I stick to it, my mother will never praise me. I wonder when it started. When did my mother stop praising me? That was surely—

Umm, surely—

Surely—

"Now then, do you understand this part? Today is the 6th, so... Sakayori-san."

"Yes!"

My consciousness plummeted back to reality upon being called by the teacher unexpectedly.

Crap, where am I? What is this? I let my guard down right as I was saying not to. Even though I knew sixth-period Classical Literature after P.E. was a battle against drowsiness.

Still—

"The 'nari-nu' here is a combination of the continuous form of the verb 'naru' and the perfective auxiliary verb 'nu'."

"Ohh, amazing."

"As expected of Sakayori-san."

"She's so amazing I didn't understand what she said."

The perfect high school girl, Iroha Sakayori, does not blunder.

That was clooose.

※

"Well then, I'm heading out first."

"I'm zo zorry, Senpai! I was just a mess of mistakes again today! I'm really, really sorry!"

"I told you it's fine. You're making fewer mistakes rapidly, Mio-chan. See you, good work today."

Today, once again, I barely escaped with my life from the workplace where bullets known as orders fly back and forth. As mentioned before, BAMBOO cafe is inexplicably busiest on Thursdays, but Fridays are normally crowded too... Today, yeah, I'm a little tired. But...

"Hehehe... The three-day weekend has finally arrived. For the first time in ages, I can sleep for six hours in a day."

I trudged down the road I usually briskly stride through, taking steps half the size of my usual stride. Looking up, the full moon floating above the buildings cut a round hole in the night sky like a peephole to another world.

I feel like I've been looking up at the moon a lot lately. I never even paid attention to it when I was at my parents' house. I wonder what kind of mental effect this is.

It's beautiful...

Somehow, I felt like I was about to hear my mother's voice again, so I hurriedly shoved my earphones into my ears. I need music. The song is, of course, Yachiyo's—let's see, maybe "Remember."

The familiar intro flowed into my ears. My heart floats up gently. The threads that were pulled tight are loosened one by one. With this, three minutes and fifty-three seconds of happiness are guaranteed. No matter how many times I listen, it never fades; it's the debut song of my bias, Yachiyo.

AI Liver, Yachiyo. The mysterious songstress who appeared suddenly literally turned my world upside down. While acting as the administrator of the virtual space "Tsukuyomi," as well as handling tutorials and navigation for various areas, she is an artist who regularly holds live streams as the face of Tsukuyomi. Her age is 8,000 years old.

It's a character with a wild setting, but no one knows her true identity. Although she proclaims herself to be an AI, her creator, designer, and moderator are completely unknown. Numerous rumors are whispered weekly, such as the theory of a collaboration between multiple companies, a national project of an overseas country, or even the theory of an electronic ghost. However, the fact that these rumors bubble up randomly like foam ironically denies the credibility of all of them.

For me, whether it's a corporation, a nation, or a ghost, I am only grateful that they gave birth to the precious bias known as Yachiyo in the same era as me. It is no exaggeration; I was saved by Yachiyo. When I was cornered and couldn't move forward, backward, left, or right, Yachiyo gave me wings with her songs and taught me that I just had to fly. Just like in this song I'm listening to now.

"......Precious melody is—flowing—into your heart—"

I am able to get through my days supported by Yachiyo. I can smile if I watch Yachiyo's stream, I calm down if I listen to her songs, and I've poured out worries I couldn't tell anyone else on her chat consultation app countless times. On days with streams, I watch them; on days without, I watch past archives or clips. Even on days when I had no appetite, if I watched Yachiyo's stream, I could eat, even if just a little. Even if I couldn't get tickets to her live concerts, I would burn her image into my eyes from the best possible location, overwrite the unpleasant memories floating behind my eyelids with a Yachiyo who looked like she was having the time of her life, and fall asleep. Even when my feet wouldn't move towards work or school, if I listened to her songs, I could naturally start walking. I felt that it was okay to be alive. Yachiyo doesn't blame me. She doesn't rush me. But she is always by my side. If anything, she is kinder than a "person." If Yachiyo weren't here, how would I go on living? I know I have to go on living. But—

Suddenly, tears welled up. As I thought, the me of today seems a little tired. The outline of the moon I looked up at blurred and distorted, and—

"—Ah."

Hmm, what was that? Something crossed the moon. Just for an instant, just a tiny—

"A shooting star!"

"It's a shooting star."

...Eh?

As if flicked by the voices around me, I clasped my hands together.

—People who rely on gods are fools.

I heard my mother's voice again, but I couldn't help but wish. God, Buddha, please, please.

"M-Money..."

Seriously, me? At a loss for words, what a very un-high-school-girl-like wish to make. I'm too boring.

Yeah, I seem to be tired. directing a self-deprecating smile at myself, I began to trudge back home again. I realized that the direction my feet were heading and the place where the shooting star just fell were exactly the same direction when—

"......Huh?"

It was when I discovered that the utility pole right next to the apartment I finally arrived at was glowing in seven colors.

Speaking of seven colors...

"Gaming... utility pole...?"

Gaming utility pole. It sounds meaningless. But that's the only way to describe it.

My retreating shoe soles scratched against the asphalt with a scuffing sound.

Wait, wait, what is this? what kind of phenomenon is this? No matter how you look at it, an ordinary utility pole is glowing in gaming colors. This wasn't happening when I left, right? Just to be sure, I touched my eyelids. I see, I see, I'm not wearing my Smart Con. In that case...

"Heh, what, is it a hallucination?"

As I tried to walk away, the utility pole spewed out smoke. As if trying to stop me.

...Give me a break.

The fatigue I had forgotten due to the shock came back doubled. This is bad. If this is reality, it's going to be very troublesome.

I have many thoughts, like what principle is making the pole glow, where the smoke is coming from, or whose wish the shooting star granted for this to happen, but the biggest question is.

"Why is it here?"

—That's it.

Honestly, I don't care if a utility pole is glowing, dancing, or singing. I could just say, "There are some festive utility poles in the world," and be done with it.

If it weren't this utility pole. If it weren't this utility pole right next to the apartment where I live.

A gaming utility pole that glows in seven colors and spews smoke when the time is right. I am not bold enough to spend my three-day weekend peacefully with such a massive supernatural phenomenon right next to me.

However, although I want someone to do something about it right now, sadly, for an apartment with a monthly rent of 38,000 yen and no guarantor, there is no landlord who will come running with a single phone call. On the other hand, there are no neighbors rushing out asking what's going on. In other words, if I don't like the glowing pole, I'm in a situation where I have to deal with it myself.

...Damn it, necessity knows no law.

I steeled my resolve and took a step forward. Then another step, and one more.

The seven-colored light twinkles faintly, as if inviting me. Why does the utility pole glow? Let's stop thinking about that for a moment. It's glowing because it's actually glowing, that's enough. So, even if a cut like a door suddenly appears in the middle of the utility pole, I won't ask why. And even if a handle with a bamboo motif grows on that door, I won't say "since when." Furthermore, even if the double doors open slowly, gradually, as if pushed from the inside—

"No, don't open!"

I instinctively pushed the doors shut with my hands. No, opening is no good. I didn't hear about it opening. Glowing and opening are two very different things.

But—

"Gah, ugh, by force, huh?"

I'm being pushed back. So strong. That's right. The perfect high school girl Iroha Sakayori, actually, muscle training was the one thing she neglected. Inside the doors that were flung open helplessly... a baby bed?

Frilly cushions, a pink rattle, a small spinning merry-go-round toy, and the master of these baby goods,

"Fwe... Fwe..."

"A-A baby?"

—It was not... long, long ago.

—It is a world only slightly in the future, not much different from now.

—Here was just an ordinary high school girl playing video games.

—Her name, let's say, was Iroha Sakayori.

—You should call her Iroha♪

—When Iroha arrived home, lo and behold, there was a single gaming utility pole glowing in seven colors originally.

—Wondering at it, she approached and looked, and the inside of the pole was shining.

—And so, Iroha said this:

"Hmm?????"