The Instrumentalists’ Ambition

♪ Poet (10 minutes earlier) ♪

I slipped out of town and headed west. I had nowhere in particular to go. I just wanted to get as far away from the Rabbit Kingdom as possible, as quickly as possible.

A single road, reinforced with sandbags, stretched across the empty grassland and led onward to another town.

I wanted to spend the rest of my life in peace. That was all I could think about.

“Adagio…”

I turned back toward the town, chasing the phantom image of the woman from my dreams. But there was no turning back now.

It was true that I wanted to be with her. But I couldn’t drag her into danger. If she stayed with me, then surely she too…

Just then, my ears twitched. Something—someone—was coming this way. Beneath the sound of the wind, I heard the rustle of clothing. A human. Someone was approaching.

“Who’s there?!”

“Lord Poet. It has been a while.”

“One of the Instrumentalist School?!”

“Indeed. I am Modurato.”

He was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, with a soft mohawk. It was a sharp contrast to the classical, formal attire favored by the vocal magic faction that supported my brother—things like tailcoats. And yet, for form’s sake, he still knelt before me, a former royal.

“What do you want? I am no longer royalty. I stand as nothing more than an ordinary commoner, equal to you.”

“Oh, whatever do you mean? Lord Poet, do you not possess a wild card that could restore you to the royal house?”

“What are you talking about?”

At that, he flicked four tarot cards at me. They embedded themselves in the tree behind me.

The four cards were: The Emperor, The Lovers, The Hanged Man, and Judgment. Don’t tell me…

“You. How much do you know?”

“Everything. Including the fact that Lord Sonnet is a villain who murdered his lover, and is unfit to be king. We’ve already ordered our lower operatives to spread the information, but people still dismiss it as a conspiracy theory. However, if you storm into a newspaper office as our spokesman, it will gain credibility all at once.”

What was this? The gears of fate had begun turning somewhere beyond my knowledge. The wind picked up, dark clouds swallowed the once-blue sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

“And if I refuse?”

“Why would you?”

Two names from the history of Otherworld Japan rose in my mind: Minamoto no Yoritomo, and Tokugawa Yoshinobu.

Yoritomo had fought a power struggle with his younger brother, who was called Ushiwaka. As a result, he became increasingly dependent on the powerful Hōjō regents, and the shogunate gradually lost all real authority, becoming nothing more than a title without substance.

Perhaps learning from that history, Yoshinobu—a shogun of a later age—had feared that civil war would invite dependence on foreign powers and lead to the nation being taken over. So he relinquished power with surprising ease.

It didn’t matter whether my brother or I stood at the top of the Rabbit Kingdom. That part wasn’t important. Either was fine. What mattered was that, if scheming officials took advantage of conflict between brothers to seize the nation, the people’s lives would be threatened.

Wise elder brother Sonnet and foolish younger brother Poet. I had willingly accepted that clownish division of roles for the sake of the kingdom’s stability. For the sake of the nation, my brother had to remain the capable one.

And yet that balance was now being shaken with absurd ease. In times like this, how ought I to act?

“The Instrumentalist faction in our kingdom presents itself as a liberator of technology, a noble force advancing instrumental magic. But behind the scenes, I’ve heard dark rumors—that it has ties to foreign powers and seeks to take over the state. That it means to stage a coup through foreign interference.”

“Rumors are rumors. Mere conspiracy theories, nothing more.”

“Are they?”

I struck a seventh chord on the lute slung across my back. It sounded nearly dissonant, yet the notes overlapped in a fragile balance, producing something beautiful and mournful.

A hologram appeared in the air.

It showed Modurato shaking hands with a foreign diplomat.

“Th-that…! How did you get footage like this?!”

“It means I’m not the only one backing you. There are people working between me and my brother, people feeding me information about your suspicious activities.”

“Masahide! That bastard!”

I neither confirmed nor denied it. I had no intention of putting Masahide in danger.

“That’s why I won’t go along with you. The one fit to rule the Rabbit Kingdom is my brother. No matter how grave the sins in his past may be.”

“I see. If that is your answer, then we shall take our own measures.”

Modurato pulled out a synthesizer and began adjusting a dial he called an oscillator as he spoke.

“Electronic instruments. They brought about a new magical revolution in the world of music magic. There were spells long said to be theoretically possible, yet impossible to execute in practice. But now, by merely shaping waveforms, they can be realized. Transformation magic was one such spell—back in the age of vocal magic, it could never be controlled with much precision. There were a few known cases of people transforming into birds, like swans or peacocks.”

“What are you babbling about? What is all this nonsense?”

“Take this!”

An iron boomerang came hurtling toward me. Dangerous. I threw myself down just in time and narrowly avoided it.

“Heh heh heh. I’ve already obtained what I wanted.”

With that, Modurato held something up triumphantly. My hair. Even though I had dodged, he had apparently clipped off a little of my natural curls. Damn it.

“Transformation magic requires DNA. Human genes, engraved in a spiraling staircase. And when those genes resonate through sound waves, using resonance particles as the medium…!”

Modurato’s body began to glow. Thunder roared. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them again—

“H-he looks just like me!”

There was another me standing there.

“I shall become the new Poet and ascend as king of this nation. You are no longer needed.”

The boomerang flew at me again and grazed my shoulder.

Damn it! I let my guard down!

Blood ran down my arm. My fingers wouldn’t move the way I wanted. In this condition, I wouldn’t be able to use my lute.

Not yet. I still had male vocal magic. Perhaps sensing that hope, the boomerang came for my throat next. I barely dodged it.

So now he meant to silence my voice? He was truly trying to kill me. I knew it by instinct.

I was at an overwhelming disadvantage! But I still had one thing in my favor.

This was probably Modurato acting alone—or at most with only a handful of accomplices.

An action like this could never possibly command genuine legitimacy. The Instrumentalist faction may have been anti-establishment by nature, but I could not imagine many would support something this extreme.

If that was the case, then there was only one course of action open to me: flee to town, rush into the local newspaper branch, and expose the truth. That was my only option.

Enduring the pain in my shoulder, I sprinted toward the town on all fours.