Ushiwaka and Benkei

♪Adagio (5 hours earlier)♪

We were surrounded by a large force of guards, both human and robotic.

“Surrender peacefully!”

A robot designed like an okappiki constable from otherworld Japan struck a dramatic kabuki pose and threatened us with a weapon called a jitte.

There were robots styled after Cossack soldiers, terracotta warriors, ancient Egyptian soldiers, Mongol cavalrymen—multinational warriors modeled after figures said to have been active throughout the history of otherworld Earth.

Each of them attacked us with music magic played on their own ethnic instruments.

“Heh! So they think a pile of junk like this is enough to bring me down? They’ve really underestimated me.”

Allegro pulled out his trumpet and played the notes of Master Thunder. Electricity burst from his whole body and shot toward the robotic soldiers.

All of them except the Mongol cavalry robot convulsed from the electric shock for a moment, then shut down. The Mongol cavalryman retaliated by firing a flaming arrow imbued with Advance Fire.

But Allegro did not take a single step. He stood there and simply allowed the arrow to graze his cheek. He looked every bit like a king.

Then he gathered lightning at his fingertips and fired it.

“Take this! I call it Master Lightning Rod!”

The struggling Mongol cavalry robot was swiftly finished off.

As if nothing at all had happened, Allegro turned and began strolling calmly back the way he had come.

This is insane. Hurry up and turn yourself in.

You’re so damn noisy.

Unable to seize control of the body, I followed helplessly as we headed for the exit, where a pale, beautiful boy and a huge man built like a temple guardian stood waiting in front of the security hole, dressed as a pair in Japanese-style clothing.

In the other world, it seemed guards wore uniforms to make their status obvious, but in this world it was not unusual for them to wear costumes that matched their musical style.

At a glance, they looked highly skilled—probably above the average Ministry of Magic employee. As expected for an important security zone.

“I see. So they’re not going to let me walk out that easily,” Allegro muttered.

The beautiful boy spun a Japanese flute over his head as lightly as if he were twirling a pen.

“You seem quite capable. Let’s go, Benkei!”

“Yes, Lord Ushiwaka!”

I didn’t know the details, but they seemed to be a band modeled after historical figures from otherworld Japan. They appeared to be fully inhabiting not just the appearance, but the relationship of the originals as well. The man called Benkei beat on a Japanese drum, and Ushiwaka responded by playing his flute with elegant grace.

The surroundings transformed into a wooden bridge with a raised center. A full moon shone down on us. Of course, it was all an illusion created by our enemies.

Ushiwaka leaped about lightly, sending wind blades at us. From the bridge railing, Benkei used the power of his Japanese drum to amplify the wind’s force.

Allegro responded with a moonsault, dodging the attack with ease. No vocal magic, no instrumental magic—just pure physical agility.

Then he pulled out his trumpet and played a tune called the Strikeout Trumpet. Apparently, in a sport called baseball from otherworld Earth, it was played to mock a batter who had struck out.

At first Ushiwaka was simply stunned when he heard it, but the moment he realized he was being made fun of, he ground his teeth and snarled, “You bastard!” before unleashing a rapid barrage of wind blades.

Allegro drew in a huge breath and answered with a military tune called the Charge Trumpet. It didn’t merely cancel out the blades—it turned the tide into an attack.

“Guh!”

Ushiwaka was blasted backward and wounded in the stomach. Benkei caught him with his whole body.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Hey! We’re doing that song!”

“We’re doing it?! The counter song?!”

A counter song was a song duel in which each side sang in turn and competed in skill. Since Allegro had taunted them, they meant to settle it once and for all.

Ushiwaka and Benkei performed a short track, and from subspace appeared a group of automata—self-playing dolls. It was a quartet modeled after the Japanese lyrics of the German folk song The Musicians of Bremen: a rabbit playing the piano, a raccoon dog on drums, a little bird playing flute, and a fox on violin.

As the raccoon dog beat the drums, the fox lifted a microphone with an affected little-finger pose and asked, “What song would you like for the match?”

Ushiwaka snapped his fingers.

“Give us the Five-Seven-Five Song.”

At those words, the quartet began an elegant melody, and Ushiwaka chanted:

“Though I hurry on,
still I cannot make my way—
a traveler’s pillow.”

I didn’t know the details, but apparently it was a verse connected to the historical Ushiwaka. He crooked a finger at us in a come-on gesture, and dark clouds began gathering overhead.

I spoke to Allegro.

Stop it. If you lose a counter song, you’ll be badly hurt.

That was true. The loser of this particular duel would be struck by lightning and suffer terrible burns all over the body. We should not be accepting such a dangerous wager.

Shut up. What I do is my business. I see... That was a verse the historical Yoshitsune—Ushiwaka—composed while fleeing to Ōshū. In that case, I’ll answer with a verse by Matsuo Bashō mourning those who sheltered Yoshitsune.

He was highly educated. He knew Japanese classics that I had never even heard of.

Allegro set down his trumpet and recited:

“Summer grasses—
all that remains
of warriors’ dreams.”

The moment he finished, the raccoon dog began drumming. The little bird took up the main melody on the flute.

“Time for the results!”

the fox cried out loudly, while the rabbit played the accompaniment.

“Ushiwaka, 88 points! Allegro, 91 points! Winner—Allegro!”

At those words, lightning split the sky. Ushiwaka and Benkei collapsed.

Then the illusion shattered, and we were returned to reality—the background becoming once more the flowers and greenery inside the Magical Private Network.

“Hah. That’s all there is to it.”

When Allegro stepped out of the network, the Ministry of Magic building came back into view. Guards and Ministry employees surrounded this body... but none of them dared lay a hand on it.

“What’s wrong? Go ahead. Try it.”

But every last one of them merely trembled, unable to move. Allegro smirked at the sight, played a jazzy little short track, and entered a transfer space. It seemed he was heading somewhere else.

No matter how far you were going, you should normally be able to leave transfer space within a minute.

...Or so I thought. Yet we did not come out for a very long time.

“That’s strange. I can’t get out of this space.”

Allegro muttered it almost as if he wanted me to hear.

Maybe the magical network is having an outage.

I offered the thought with no real certainty, just something off the top of my head, but Allegro actually began to think it over. Please, I begged inwardly, calm down while you still can.

“I see. There does seem to be lag in the transfer space. Is it an address problem? Or maybe the cache isn’t working?”

Allegro was talking out of his ass too. Naturally, neither of us was an expert in this field.

“But it looks like we’re moving little by little, just slowly. About the speed of a magic carriage, maybe. In the other world, I hear there’s a vehicle called a Super Cub about this fast. Well, it’s not instantaneous travel, but if I give it time, I should get there.”

Where are you trying to go?

“......”

He didn’t answer.

Well, I’d find out once we arrived.

Then, in an instant, we reached an unfamiliar forest. I asked:

Where are we?

You know exactly where. Zophie’s house.