K side black and white, p.1
K Side Black & White, page 1
Prologue: On the Run
The walls were papered in pink, and the bed–an unabashed heart-shaped mattress for two. While it looked to be rather well kept, the interior decoration left a sense of cheapness.
“Whew!” Isana Yashiro languidly flopped down on the bed and began unbuttoning his collar. “Kinda feels like this place is worlds away from where we’re from…”
It was his first time stepping into a place like this. To use a rather dated expression, they’d arrived at a “lovers’ rendezvous spot”. More bluntly, though, it was merely a love hotel.
It was nigh impossible to avoid the sense of curiosity aroused by the disco ball hanging from the ceiling and the refrigerator decorated in popping colors with stars. But Yashiro was too exhausted to give in to his usual curiosity at this point.
“Shiro! Shiro!” Neko piped up, poking her head out of the washroom, visible only from the collarbone up. “You sure you don’t wanna take a bath together?” Apparently she’d already disrobed of all she’d been wearing and had now returned to the state in which the pair had first met. In other words–butt naked.
Yashiro lifted only his head. “Neko–what did you just promise me?”
“Mmmr…” Neko pursed her lips. “I won’t flagrantly show men my naked body.”
“Exactly. Now, off with you,” he ordered with a tired smile, letting his head fall again to rest against the mattress.
A loud thump echoed from the bathroom, and Neko returned, obviously dissatisfied, “You’re no fun! I just wanna splish and splash in the water with Shiro!” and ducked her head back inside.
Only moments before, she’d started eagerly stripping her clothes off right in front of their eyes, and Yashiro had been in quite a state. He’d somehow managed to convince her to stop, unwilling though she might have been, and steered her into the washroom alone–a feat which had nearly sapped him of all strength. Now, however, a pleasant humming drifted into the room proper, along with the sound of the shower turning on.
Neko was very fair-skinned, with curves in all the right places and rather pleasing proportions. No man could possibly resist her allure. She was probably doing all sorts of things right now that would make any guy jealous…
Yashiro closed his eyes with a bitter smile; he really would’ve liked to just slip off to sleep just like this–but he still had some unfinished business. He still–
“There’s no end to her indecency!” snapped Yatogami Kuroh, who’d been sitting, arms and legs crossed, on the sofa this whole time and seemed quite put-out. “And what sort of unseemly establishment have you brought us to?!” At wits’ end, he stood with his hands fisted at his sides, and Isana Yashiro softened the bitter smile that rose to his lips at this. “Why on earth are we hiding in this–this–this–” Kuroh didn’t seem able to even bring himself to say the words love hotel, and with flushed cheeks, he continued, “–this getaway house for men and women to engage in relations?!”
Each and every word that fell from Kuroh’s lips made him sound aged beyond his years, and with a grunt of effort, Yashiro hoisted himself upright, settling back against the head of the bed as he chucked.
“But it’s perfect as a hideout, don’t you think? Everything’s anonymous, so it’s a great space for maintaining privacy. Or rather–it’s the only space in the city you can do so. Not like they can ask for ID from each and every person who comes through here, after all. It’s perfect for people like us who need a place to lie low away from the public eye.”
“But what I’m trying to say is–” the ever-fastidious Kuroh barked back, “–is that this place is morally abhorrent!”
“Well…I suppose you have a point.” Yashiro thought of his friend Mishina here, and a dirty smile flickered across his features. Were he here, he’d likely make light of the situation. “But people come here to do what they need to, as it were, so you can hardly expect it to be the pinnacle of morality.”
“That’s not it!” Kuroh shook his head insistently, flushing deeply once again. “I–I’m not chastising those who…choose to engage in such acts. Sexual relations between consenting partners are far from the sort of thing that ought to be frowned upon. What I take issue with is this hotel’s business sense! Which is to say–we were able to just walk right inside!”
The hotel they occupied used a fully automated payment system, enabling customers to make use of the rooms without once encountering another person. At Yashiro’s look of obvious confusion, Kuroh clarified with irritation, “All three of us–clearly one more than a pair!”
“Oh… Right, I see now.”
Security cameras had been guarding the hotel entrance, in all likelihood checked on the other end by the building’s owners. Fully automated though the system may have been, there was no way that there wouldn’t at least be a building manager around–and while they’d used subtle disguises and Neko’s powers to conceal their identities, wary of capture by Scepter 4, they hadn’t thought to consider their number.
“Well, I suppose that sort of thing isn’t all that rare in this sort of place–two guys and one girl, that is.”
“Utterly indecent!”
“Wonder what sorts of things they get up to~?” At Yashiro’s teasing laughter, Kuroh turned a sharp glare his way–and it was at that point that a sing-song voice called out from the washroom.
“Heeeey, Shiro! There’s some weird kind of button here! Lookie lookie!”
The pair turned their gaze toward her voice–and suddenly the walls turned completely transparent, offering an unobstructed view of the washroom. Neko, covered in bubbles, smiled over at them broadly.
“Lookie lookie!” As she pressed the button beside the shower off and on, the pair were in turn granted and denied the sight of Neko bare as the day she was born. It seemed she’d found a rather naughty system allowing viewers to see inside the bathroom. “Whee~!” Her enjoyment seeming to have peaked, she pirouetted on tiptoes, her long hair just barely concealing her more ‘dangerous’ bits.
Kuroh and Yashiro raised their voices as one: “Stop, stop!” “Cease that this instant!”
“Nya~?” She halted her twirling with a jerk of her hips, and the wall went back to normal.
After chasing down the man known as the Silver King, Adolf K. Weissman, and getting caught up in the explosion of his airship, the trio narrowly escaped certain doom. Had it not been for Kuroh’s split-second decision and supernatural abilities, they likely all three would have lost their lives then and there.
Kuroh pushed the helicopter he was piloting into a nosedive, managing to avoid taking the blast directly. As he put it, “Helicopters are typically equipped with a clutch to prevent them from diving even if the engine stops; as such, should a pilot find himself in that situation, he’d typically just reduce the pitch of the main rotor, but the PELL402 has the same pitch function as operation choppers and the like, so I was able to bring it into a dive faster than in a freefall.”
Yashiro gaped in surprise. “…I’m shocked enough that you can fly a helicopter at all–where’d you learn that sort of thing?”
At his question, Kuroh replied cryptically, “It’s expected for a retainer serving Ichigen-sama.” But Kuroh wasn’t finished yet–and with Yashiro and Neko held close, he warped the space around the trio using his powers and fled the out-of-control helicopter.
‘If it weren’t for him…’ Yashiro mused, ‘We’d likely all three have been burnt to a crisp…’ He then added a bit self-deprecatingly, ‘But…maybe I would’ve made it, at least. I managed to survive a fall from that airship, after all…’
The sound of hissing wind
The airship’s hatch opening
The Silver King Weissman looking down at him and laughing lightly–
“Bye~”
–before he kicked Yashiro away, starting his freefall to earth
Neko’s powers had triggered something within him, and while he could recall nothing else, he’d held a strong grip on that memory at least, that sensation of feeling helpless, as if his soul had fled his body.
Why had he been on board the Silver King’s ship?
How had he survived a fall from the sky strong enough to send him hurtling through the roof of a building?
What was he?
To solve this riddle, they’d stirred up the Blue King, Munakata Reishi, and tried to obtain direct audience with the Silver King–but in the end, things had wound up even murkier than before.
‘As for that explosion, though… I can’t bring myself to think that someone as amazing as that man would die so easily.’
Had the Silver King…triggered the explosion himself?
The one being ranking alongside the Gold King–the very first King…
What sort of relationship did the Silver King and Yashiro have…? The way he’d looked at Yashiro had been filled with a joy bordering on ecstasy that drew goosebumps. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and his body trembled slightly.
“…What’s wrong?” Kuroh seemed to have notice the subtle change that had come over Yashiro.
“Oh–ah, it’s…nothing.” He offered a smile in return. ‘He’s always so kind, Kuroh…’ He raked his gaze over the boy who’d somehow become something of a partner and companion along the way. Accomplished with the sword as well as a kitchen knife, excelling in all areas of domestic upkeep, he’d been blessed with an honest, sincere personality. ‘Though I have to admit he’d be a little easier to get along with if he’d just let l oose a tiny bit more…’ he thought to himself.
Despite trying to kill Yashiro when they’d first met, they now found relatively little difficulty in having casual conversations with one another. He’d even shifted from calling him the stiff ‘Isana Yashiro’ to simply ‘Shiro’ and softened his speech as well. It was difficult to tell if he was skilled at adapting to situations or if he simply just found himself getting swept along by the current–
Kuroh furrowed his brows. “So? What are we to do now?” Somewhere along the way, Yashiro had found himself the leader of their quirky trio, a fact which Kuroh seemed to have taken no issue with.
Yashiro returned with some concern, “Well…I guess I was thinking we could rest here for a bit and wait for nightfall?”
“………” Kuroh seemed to have something to say on this point, but bit back his words.
“It’s the only choice we have when you think about it. We just don’t have enough information right now to make our next move–like how that Munakata-san is going to proceed, or what happened to the Silver King when his airship exploded. If we don’t take stock of how things unfold from here on out, we can’t decide what to do next.
“………”
“So I guess you could say we’re using the TV here and your PDA to gather intelligence?”
At Yashiro’s chuckled suggestion, Kuroh nodded reluctantly. “Very well then.”
“And also–” Yashiro added, expression a bit tired, “to tell the truth, I’m pretty pooped here. If I don’t get some sleep, I won’t be able to move.” With that, he rolled back onto his side on the mattress–before extending a frail hand out to Kuroh. “You must be tired, Patrasche. I am, too. I feel really really tired for some reason…”
“Who are you calling Patrasche?!” After delivering this frank response, though, Kuroh’s expression turned anxious. He brought his face a bit closer to Yashiro’s, as if he were inspecting the freshness of vegetables at a market. “…I’ll admit, you don’t look too good right now. Your eyes are bloodshot.” His voice dropped in tone. “Oi, Shiro. Are you positive this is only because you’re tired? Or is it–”
Yashiro just laughed–he wasn’t even sure himself. Ever since Neko’s powers had triggered the unlocking of his memories, he’d started feeling some strange sort of disconnect between his body and mind well up within him. Whether it was simple exhaustion…or some sort of omen–Yashiro couldn’t tell. As such, he responded thusly: “Mm, I think I’ll just try napping for now.”
If he didn’t try sleeping, he’d never know one way or the other.
“…All right, then,” he returned, expression serious, and promptly sat himself down on the edge of the bed, back to Yashiro, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“………” Yashiro simply stared at him, eyes wide. “Umm, this is…?”
“I’ll watch over you, so you can sleep without worry.”
“…Okay.” Ah, so that was it. His eyes crinkled at their edges. “…You’re really kind, you know.”
Kuroh’s shoulders twitched, and his next words carried an edge of anger to them. “We can’t make our next move without you at full strength! Now stop babbling and get to sleep! If you don’t–” He turned his attention to Neko’s humming filtering in from the bathroom, “–things are bound to get loud again once she gets out of there.”
Yashiro gave a dry laugh. It seemed that Neko had found the bath salts and been playing in the bubbles during her bath. She was a strange girl, and her past was a mystery–but it was clear she enjoyed her baths.
“You have a point… I suppose I’ll take you up on your offer, then…” He pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and curled himself up a bit. Kuroh muttered something to himself, and Yashiro turned to ask, “Hey…what kind of a person was Ichigen-sama?”
Kuroh froze in place. “Why…would you ask something like that?”
“Just curious, I guess.” Fatigue had started to work its way into his voice, and he continued around a soft yawn, “I mean, you can do all kinds of things. Cooking and sewing–and then flying helicopters and stuff like that. So I just thought maybe Ichigen-sama was a really amazing person as well.”
“………”
Kuroh fell silent, his arms crossed, not stirring an inch. Watching him, Yashiro idly thought, ‘And he’ll probably still be sitting just like that when I wake in another few hours.’
He came off a bit irritated, but at the same time held a sense of reliability, steady as a rock, and Yashiro snickered softly to himself as he nodded off.
“Ichigen-sama was…”
But the tale Kuroh began to relate…was lost somewhere between dream and reality.
Chapter 1: Bound Together
Eleven-year-old Yatogami Kuroh stood frozen stiff in the kitchen.
“Oh no…I’ve messed up the recipe…!”
Today’s dinner was to be fried chives omelet with dried mackerel, tofu, and onion miso soup. He’d gone through the menu in his head on the way home from school before making up his mind. He’d even recently worked out a way to conduct simulations in his mind for how he’d use the contents of the refrigerator.
Each meal was different; he couldn’t simply grill or stew the ingredients–he had to carefully fold in the eggs, be diligent in adding seasoning. As such, a rather marked difference arose in the final results between meals he’d imagined ahead of time clearly in his head and those he hadn’t. He’d picture the final product in his head, working out the particulars he knew he’d need to achieve such an end. He’d thought through everything–from measuring out into a small bowl the seasonings he would need ahead of time to preparing the vegetables he’d need later in a separate container.
And admittedly, these sorts of preparatory motions were really part of the basic skills set endowed to anyone who called themselves a cook, but to Kuroh, this had been a rather important discovery indeed. He’d been hoping to, in this way, somehow overcome his innate clumsiness, but…
“Hng…how could I…?!”
The chives he’d placed on his cutting board…were completely useless now. He’d checked just yesterday and thought they were still fresh, but looking them over now, they were clearly rotting along the ends, nearly melting onto the board and emitting a foul odor. This was one of the worst parts of the rainy season–stored in the refrigerator though they may have been, it was obvious he still couldn’t let his guard down.
“Ngh…” Now what to do? He’d had the perfect fried chive omelet pictured in his head–the very same one that his guardian Miwa Ichigen had prepared and taught him only two weeks prior.
“Understand, Kuro? First you slice the chives, then sauté them in sesame oil.”
Ichigen’s movements and explanation had been so quick that it had been all Kuroh could do simply to take notes. The man had moved smoothly about the kitchen, explaining, “As for me–I like topping it off with a bit of sweet bean paste, but the key is to use not vinegar, but ponzu. That way it comes out even milder.”
Kuroh had nodded his assent, never taking his eyes off of Ichigen’s hands so as not to miss a move he made. The knife seemed to dance in his hands as he sliced away at the chives, and even setting aside the fact that Kuroh was particularly partial to those hands, one could say without bias that his movements were beautiful and captivating.
