Shiva ★ Resurrection
The reincarnated form of Shiva,
Shiba Kazuya sought to play at Koshien for his dead brother Tatsuya.
That day, however, a guardian spirit told him
that the world was in grave danger…
The people had lost their faith and convictions
and the world was teetering on destruction.
To prevent that, he has to take back the match!
Believe that Kazuya’s faith and playing style will save the world…!
Shiba Kazuya sought to play at Koshien for his dead brother Tatsuya.
That day, however, a guardian spirit told him
that the world was in grave danger…
The people had lost their faith and convictions
and the world was teetering on destruction.
To prevent that, he has to take back the match!
Believe that Kazuya’s faith and playing style will save the world…!
See the light! The decline of the world!
Throw it! The Deadly Magic Ball of Nirvana!
Hit it! A batting form that decimates the opponent!
Throw it! The Deadly Magic Ball of Nirvana!
Hit it! A batting form that decimates the opponent!
Ensuing world panic, the destruction of the ecosystem, dwindling energy, famine.
And then, the anticipated final World War.
As society lies in rubbles, the G7 talks in circles.
Only in these cinemas—An all-night fear festival! Face divine retribution if you don’t watch it!
A BOX OFFICE SENSATION!
Haruma-1
In the kitchen, the pot was making a gurgling sound. As the contents slowly built up heat, I watched on vacantly. Now that the dish had finally boiled, it was about time to take it out and drain the hot water. All that was left was to pour it all in a bowl and voila—the stew was done. When I brought a spoon to my mouth, it really did have a “homely” sort of taste.
There’s a wonderful sense of comfort in something that tastes generic. There might be a tendency to take lines like one of a kind and irreplaceable as the highest compliments, but in my opinion, all-purpose disposables are the most wonderful things of all. Like corporate slaves and subcontractors!
As I ate my stew and chewed on those thoughts, the door opened with a clank. My sister was back, it seemed. I heard heavy, dragging footsteps approaching me from her room.
“I’m hoooome.”
“Hey.”
When I looked over my shoulder, Amane-chan was standing there dressed in her house clothes: hot pants and a T-shirt that revealed the shape of her bulging chest. The start of summer might be just around the corner, but wasn’t she being a bit too loose?
“Oh, you’re eating stew. I’ll have some too, ‘mkay.”
Amane-chan headed for the kitchen, pulled out a TV dinner from the cupboard, piled the contents on a plate and tossed it into the microwave. It seemed she had no desire to wait for the water to boil.
“Teehee, this is my reward for today’s hard work… Just a tiny bite…”
A suspiciously grim smile came over her face as she held the burning hot stew and sat across from me. Oh, and she was also holding a can of beer and a pack of potato chips. My sister subsisted on a junk food diet.
“Is it really okay for you to eat that crap when you’re a health teacher?”
“What’s the big deal? No matter what I eat, it’s obviously bad for the body, after all.”
“R-Right…”
Her eating habits were one thing, but saying all that aloud was pretty damn unfitting for a health teacher…
Even now, she was drowning her chips in stew and slurping down beer. You could say she was the candid type, but she was honestly just crass… It was as if her personality was the polar opposite of my cute and innocent yet simultaneously wise and intellectual self. We share the same mother, so why are we so different? Please enlighten me, Professor Mendel.
“Your eating habits don’t make one squat of difference. I mean, you have no idea what’s really inside your dinner.”
All of this came straight from a beer guzzler, although my sister’s words did contain an element of truth.
Society is built on trust. Trust that goes by the name of cold resignation. Only resignation built on lies and self-deception can bring peace to a person’s heart.
You could raise a million doubts about the information in the daily newspaper, the product label on your lunch or the age of a girl in the night business, so it’s impossible to seek the truth.
That’s why everyone shuts up and accepts what they’re given. When all’s said and done, trust is possible when everyone gives up on understanding or seeking the truth.
Food, production, information, education, finance. Society is built upon trust in every industry under the sun. Truly, this world is a beautiful place. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing that doesn’t fall under the umbrella of “trust” is the matter of blood relations.
This sister of mine was, at this very moment, opening up a second can of beer as she calmly uttered a very faithless thing indeed.
“You’ll ruin your body if you care too much about health. Eat what you want and do what you want and your body will take care of itself.”
“Don’t say that at school… It’s a big thing for growing boys, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But even if you do watch what you eat, it doesn’t necessarily make you healthy…”
“Well, yeah. Not that it’s a good reason to drink like a fish…”
This was all about indulging oneself endlessly as a so-called reward, wasn’t it?
“I’m not talking about myself. I’m talking about Misa-chan—you know, that girl from the nurse’s office today? See, that girl has nothing wrong with her diet, but she’s kinda got a weak constitution. She doesn’t have any bad habits either, so I couldn’t find any root causes like this one. I’m also looking into her sleeping habits, though…”
“Oh, sounds tough.”
“Yep.” She put her elbows on the table, pressing her beer can against her blushing cheeks. “But you know,” she muttered with a faraway look in her eyes, “I kinda admire her.”
“Huh?”
What was this chick saying…? What a moron.
She practically lit up before my apathetic gaze. Amane-chan put her beer can down with gusto, as if she was attempting to slap the table with it. She began to talk feverishly, her eyes sparkling.
“You know those tragic, beautiful girls? They’re kinda sickly, but they work so hard it’s inspiring. Boys are weak to that type, y’know? I’m, like, the complete opposite, so no one will give me the time of day…”
As she spoke, my sister threw herself down on the sofa and stared fixatedly at her legs. The long, supple legs that emerged from the hot pants she wears at home could not be described as sickly by any stretch of the imagination. My sister might not have fit the tragic image, but that was hardly the only appealing trait in women.
“…Uh, that’s not really how it is, you know? You give off the vibe of a ripe woman,” I said.
Amane-chan sat up straight, blushing with happiness for some reason. Since her hair was ruffled from throwing herself on the sofa, she ran a comb through it just for good measure.
“Y-You think?” She looked at me through upturned eyes.
“Well, if you’re too ripe, you just ferment.”
“Fur meant? What does that have to do with anythi—oh. You meant that kind of ripe! Shuddup, you… you…!”
Now that the meaning had dawned on her, my sister kicked at me with her long legs. Even though it didn’t hurt a bit, I didn’t think much of her habit of blowing up at the slightest provocation. Nobody likes a violent heroine.
After flailing around like a grumpy cat and kicking me again, Amane-chan seemed to brighten up somewhat, because she sat up straight and let out a sigh.
“Man, your personality really sucks.”
“I’m a product of my environment…”
A boy with an upbeat older sister is almost 100% guaranteed to end up with a twisted personality. That’s my theory. If the older sister was trying to learn karate, her brother would end up battered and bruised for the sake of practice. If she said she wanted to try cooking, he’d be the human guinea pig. She’d turn anything he bought into their shared property without so much as a “by your leave”. And to top it off, if he appealed directly to their mother about this terrible state of affairs, he’d meet a terrible retribution later on. There was no way he couldn’t end up with a twisted personality.
Well, it wasn’t all bad. Thanks to her, I have no illusions about the female kind. No matter how outwardly beautiful a girl was, underneath it all she was just like my sister, Kusaoka Amane. That awful truth about women had been imprinted in me from a very early age.
Even now, Amane-chan was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, beer can in one hand and squid jerky in the other, guffawing at the screen. This was the twenty-four year old single woman in her natural habitat. How could you have illusions about women after seeing that?
You get the picture. As we were arguing vehemently about the reasons I’d turned out this way, my cell phone suddenly began to vibrate. Yet another push notification for a new event in one of my mobile games, huh? Or maybe an update? Bonus stones being distributed as an apology for a glitch in Puzzle & Dragons? Picking myself up from the carpet, I reached my hand towards my cell phone.
When I looked at the screen, it was showing something from the messaging app, which I hadn’t used in ages. According to the push notification, the name of the sender was displayed as “JOHANNE ♡”.
…Johanne? I had no idea who that was. I wondered if this was spam. These days, you don’t just get spam, you get movie announcements and ads and even texts announcing the end of the world. You even hear these things in the neighbourhood all the time: “THE LORD HAS COME! REPENT!” It’s annoying.
Well, only a spammer would send me a message on this app. I had never told anyone about my account to begin with. It’s just that… well. “If I don’t get this, I’ll never be able to contact my friends,” I said as I cheerfully installed the app on the first day of high school, only to never to use it except for the occasional chat with the public Pretty Cure account and to buy anime-type stamps I never intend to use.
There was no way a stranger could follow me. I have my parents to thank for that. Because of what they taught me, I’ve always refused to mingle with people I don’t know well, so before I knew it I had become someone without friends who acted friendly to me.
I didn’t feel like looking at a message from a random ass stranger. I promptly blocked the number and stuffed my cell phone into my pocket.
After a short while, however, my cell phone started vibrating again. As much as I tried to ignore it, the vibrating sound a phone makes even on silent mode really got on my nerves.
Amane-chan threw a slightly irritated glare in my direction and tutted in casual disapproval. “Hey, that buzzing’s been going on for a while and it’s annoying.”
“…Yeah.”
God damn it, I blocked you already, you persistent bastard. Once again, I took out my phone, and when I got a good look at the contents of the message, I shuddered.
Haruma-2
Dear Kusaoka Haruma-san,
Hello, this is Chigusa Yuu! I’m from the year below you. I’d like to thank you kindly for listening to me on the roof today ♡
Kusaoka-san, I see you’re a second year student! Your seat number is the same as mine! While our houses might be some distance away from each other, at least our birthdays are close! Oh, oh, and did I mention that we have the same blood type? ♡ This must be fate, don’t you think? (laughs)
Oh, I also heard that you often spend your breaks playing mobile games. I’m also super interested in those sport(?)-like games, so you’ll have to teach me how to play next time, if that’s all right with you ♡
Er, um, you know how you said I could talk to you anytime? The truth is, there’s something I really want to talk to you about (sweats). Kusaoka-san, do you know about the Random Crossroad?? It seems like my friend got caught up in that urban legend… What do I do? I’m scaaared (cries).
Won’t you lend me your strength and help me find my precious friend so that she won’t be left alone to die?!
I eagerly await your response (bows) ♡
Haruma-3
What do I do? I’m scaaared (cries).
My phone continued to shudder even as I was reading the message, and by the time I was halfway through, I was shuddering myself.
In total, I received over twenty messages, all likely from the same person. After I had initially blocked “JOHANNE ♡”, she changed her account to “JOHANNE ♪”, “JOHANNE ☆” and “JOHANNE 2”, slipping through my blocking manoeuvre with a manoeuvre of her own. Now I was on the receiving end of a bunch of messages. If I just let things be, she might have ended up warping into “JOHANNevolution” or “the end of genesis JOHANNevolution turbo type D”.
And don’t even get me started on the contents of the message itself.
Love hearts and symbols were all well and good. The writing also had a pleasant girly vibe. But you see, I really don’t think that casually beating someone over the head with their address, date of birth and blood type is a good idea. Just when did the Personal Information Protection Act get amended? Or was she exercising a right to know?
As I clenched my cell phone tighter, my sister peered at me with a mystified expression. “Something the matter?”
Everything is the matter with this sender. Sis, this is serious! was all I could think.
I coughed. “Amane-chan,” I called out to her.
“What?”
“When a girl says, ‘We have the same blood type,’ what does she mean?” I asked.
Amane-chan gnawed on her squid jerky and thought for a while.
“…It means she wants to have a blood transfusion.”
Wow, really? You learn something new every day. Just what you’d expect from a health teacher. I had no idea I was being invited to donate blood. Wait, hang on a second. My sister might have been saying that with a straight face, but she couldn’t have been serious…
Well, I’d always known my sis was a bit kooky, but this “Johanne” sender fit the bill as well. When you think about it logically, no one would send a giddy message like this if they were right in the head. My image of Chigusa Yuu didn’t quite match up with this psycho message, but seeing as it mentioned the events on the roof, I had no choice but to believe that this signature was hers.
When I thought about it, Chigusa Yuu did have the beauty of a jewel, physically speaking. She was a diamond among beauties. But you know, I have to say no to a Crazy Diamond.
As I was frantically blocking her, the intercom rang. Ding dong.
Amane-chan ignored it completely and went on guffawing at the TV. Meanwhile, the ringing continued. Ding dong. Ding dong. Damn it, what is it? Quit calling out to me so much. Are you Smile, you bastard (1)?
“…Haruma,” Amane-chan called out my name, clicking her tongue in irritation. Predictably enough, it seemed she was unable to stand the ringing any longer.
Well, that’s the way it goes. Between older sisters and younger brothers, you don’t even need to think about who tops the hierarchy. Younger brothers are equivalent to slaves. I mean, look at the proof. Don’t “brother” and “slave” sort of resemble each other in English? They don’t, do they.
Reluctantly, I stood up and peered at the monitor of the intercom, which was still ringing incessantly. But no one was there. Someone had to be there—that person just didn’t show up on the camera for some reason. It’s a strong trend among people trying to solicit or get money from you! Watch out, kids!
The way things were going, I had no choice but to actually go out to the entrance. I tried peering through the peephole just in case, but since the caller was predictably nowhere to be seen, I gave up and turned the knob.
When I opened the door warily, only just far enough to bring my head out, this peculiar character (presumably the visitor) stepped up and bowed.
“Good evening.”
“Er, right. Evening…” was all I could answer with.
Her manner was so elegant it would have sounded totally fitting if she had followed up her greeting with, “What a pleasant night this is.” As Chigusa Yuu flicked her glistening black hair over her shoulder, bathed in the glow from the street lights, an ethereal smile came over her face like a wintry crescent moon. Try as I might, I could not connect the person in front of me with the maniac who had been pressing away at the intercom.
“Um, this is my house,” I said with a hoarse voice. “So why—?”
“You said I could come talk to you anytime, so here I am,” Chigusa explained bashfully.
The way she blushed and glanced up at me from time to time through upturned eyes was very cute and all, but her explanation left something to be desired… The reason for her visit was a mystery, yes, but what I wanted to ask was not why she had come but more like why she knew where my house was. What, did this girl use a nineties Hello Pages? Did they disclose one’s personal residence that easily (2)?
“That’s not what I—”
“Ah, perhaps you still haven’t read my message?” She came to a startled realisation. “I’ll send it to you now, all right?”
She started pressing away at her smart phone. Right after that, my phone vibrated. There on the screen was the exact same message I had seen before. When I caught sight of the word “talk”, my eyes froze.
Come to think of it, I had indeed said come talk to me again.
But in Japanese, when you say “See you next time!” or “Let’s hang out again sometime!” it means you won’t meet again. “I’ll go if I’m able” means the same thing as “I won’t go” in Japanese. When you’re able to pay lip service to everyone that way, you can live the high life and become a total celeb.
“Mm. Um, when I said come talk to me, I didn’t mean that, I, um…”
“You don’t have time to spare for me?” Chigusa interrupted me with a hollow laugh, slipping her hands into her pockets.
All of a sudden, I caught myself smiling like a Japanese person when a foreigner talks to him in another language. Oh, sorry… I cannotto spikku foreign ranguage.
======================
TRANSLATOR’S NOTES
(1) The Japanese onomatopoeia for a ringing doorbell is pronounced ‘pin pon’, which is the same as the word for ‘ping pong’. Smile is one of the main characters from the 2014 anime Ping Pong the Animation.
(2) The Hello Pages is a phone and address book distributed by the Nippon Telegraph and Telephone Corporation (NTT), similar to the White Pages. It lists private addresses, but only a very small number of them are listed on the Hello Pages these days.
===========================
Yuu-1
Kusaoka-san was smiling in satisfaction.
His facial features were, well, let’s not go there, but even so, his expression conveyed his emotions to me loud and clear.
OH, YESYES… I kyan yes-u, I am-u yes-u! I wondered if he was the son of a god. He might just bring salvation to man through his bountiful love.
“You don’t have time to spare for me?”
When I laughed, Kusaoka-san’s smile deepened further. Just as I hoped, he had been expecting my arrival. Having whispered come talk to me in my ears, he had likely made adequate preparations. The words “I’ll go if I’m able” are the same thing as a contract: “Even if the possibility that I can go is only one per cent, I’ll definitely go!” If you are well aware that a verbal promise is legally valid, you too may build a fortune in the business world and live a life of comfort, boys and girls.
“Since I have time to spare and you have time to spare, Kusaoka-san, then that means that there are no obstacles between us, does it not?”
“Does it now?”
“Have you time to spare?”
“Do I look like it?”
“Are you able to go?”
“Do I look like it?”
However, Kusaoka-san was an expert at turning the tables. Nothing I did could sway him into making any promises. It was entirely a waste of effort. Without the physical strength to push him forcefully, I lacked the courage to go on the offensive.
Beautiful and perfect as I may be, by no means do I have absolute confidence in my ability to communicate. No matter how well I present myself, I will shake and tremble if I see no favourable response forthcoming, and if I perceive signs of an outright rejection, my heart is wounded.
“…I’m not a bother to you, am I?”
I am such a cry baby. Even though I am repulsed by that part of myself, there is nothing I can do to stop it. My vision blurred with tears. What a weakling I am.
“I thought if anyone would listen to my story, it would be you, Kusaoka-san…”
“I get it already! I’ll listen!”
Kusaoka-san really was the reincarnation of the Messiah. His large palms, characteristic of a boy, spread even wider in an effort to alleviate my tears.
Kusaoka-san was such a nice person.
Haruma-4
Chigusa’s words were unfailingly polite.
Pulling out her hands which she had been ruffling in her pockets, she held them neatly in front of her body and bowed. As she went through the motions, I found myself thinking that Chigusa’s bashful face was honestly very flattering.
I’ll be blunt. This girl was adorable.
Pretty much no guy ever would get a bad feeling when a cute girl asks a favour of him. Being relied upon by a beautiful girl is the best thing that can happen to a guy.
For example, when a girl looks at you with puppy dog eyes and leans forward with her hands pressed together in a way that emphasises her chest—or alternatively, when a high-handed tsundere says stuff like, “I-It can’t be helped, so I’ll let you assist me! Be grateful!”— a guy will usually respond readily. As for the requests themselves, there are a bunch of variations to how they’re carried out.
Type A) A request
Type B) An entreaty
Type C) A businesslike transaction
Type D) A demand
Type E) An order
Now then, here’s a question! Which category did our favourite Chigusa Yuu—the most beautiful, most refined, most pure and sweet girl on the planet—fall into?! This is an easy one!
The correct answer is… intimidation. None of the above!
As a smile spread across every inch of her face, Chigusa held a personal alarm in her tiny palms. The ball chain seemed to sparkle as she brought it out. This had gone well past intimidation and into the realm of barbarism.
“…I’m not a bother to you, am I?”
Chigusa’s eyes started welling up with tears. The alarm chain started making a tinkling sound. If she pulled that chain, the alarm would blare and policemen would probably come running from all directions.
As much as it was our own business, this did look like a case of an unsavoury-looking guy with a crying girl. No matter what the truth of the matter was, I was the bad guy, the villain. I could have the best lawyer in the world and he still wouldn’t be able to come up with a good defence!
Chigusa lowered her eyes sorrowfully and hugged herself tightly. As you might expect, she was still holding the alarm in one hand.
“I thought if anyone would listen to my story, it would be you, Kusaoka-san…”
“I get it already! I’ll listen! In fact, I’m all ears! Say whatever you want!”
Chigusa’s face lit up at my words and she finally put away the personal alarm. Who would have thought a high school girl’s personal alarm would serve the same purpose as the yakuza’s extortion tools…?
“Thank you ever so much. Now then… there are quite a few things I’d prefer not to say at a place like this, so let us be off.” Chigusa smiled cheerfully as she wiped away her tears and pointed down the road. Don’t say a place like this… This is my house, damn it.
Yet for all that, I had no right to refuse. Not only had she bombarded me with my personal information, she held the power of life and death over me as far as society was concerned. Once I shut up and nodded meekly, Chigusa smiled from the bottom of her heart in a way that one would not think possible of a girl who had been threatening me just a moment ago.
When I saw her smile, my heart skipped a beat.
I should mention that sweat started pouring off me, my breathing hitched and my lips turned purple. These were the early symptoms of shock, weren’t they…? Just from looking at her, I couldn’t help but think that this could be… love!
There was not one shred of similiarity between Chigusa Yuu’s outward appearance and her actual actions. On top of that, she seemed to act as if nothing was the matter at all. There was something deeply unsettling about the fact that only her face was amazingly cute.
I’ll be blunt. This girl… was strange.
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