Chapter 3 – Servant
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Mayane shoved the door open, her schoolbag swinging loosely at her side. Normally, Aven would already be grumbling about the price of groceries or nagging her to turn off the lights to save electricity. But today… silence.
"Bro?" she called, stepping out of her shoes neatly by the door. "I'm sad too, you know, but that doesn't mean you can sulk all day."
Still nothing.
"Bro! Don't ignore me, you stubborn mule!" she yelled louder, stomping across the tatami. "You're so dead when I find you—oh wait, no, you're not allowed to die, we already buried Dad. So answer me, damn it!"
Her eyes fell on the low table. A folded note sat there, weighed down by something thick. She snatched it up.
> "I've gone to Grandpa's house to take care of something. Under this note, there's enough money for one month if I take too long."
Mayane's face twisted with rage. "That idiot! Dropping out of school just to run off without me?!" Her fists clenched, her voice rising. "Who does he think he is, some tragic anime protagonist?!"
But then—she lifted the note.
Her anger melted instantly. Beneath it sat a neat stack of bills. Her eyes widened, glittering like freshly minted coins. In her imagination, dollar signs spun in her irises.
"…Heh." She grinned. "Well, maybe he's not completely useless." She hugged the cash dramatically, already picturing a brand-new designer bag. "Maybe I should let him run away more often."
---
Meanwhile in Kyoto, Aven was crouched over a sword that looked like it had been dragged straight out of a museum exhibit labeled 'Battlefield Garbage.'
He squinted at the Bandage-wrapped blade. "Alright, let's see what you're hiding. Come to Papa, retirement fund."
He tugged. Nothing. He gnawed at the cloth with his teeth. Nothing. He tried a kitchen knife, a hammer, even his nail clippers.
"Hggghhh—urghh—ack—ouch! Damn it!" He flopped back onto the tatami floor, panting. "What is this, titanium bandages? Who the hell wraps a sword like this?!"
And then—
"Enough, you idiot! That hurts!"
A voice, deep and sharp, cracked through the house like thunder.
Aven froze. His hands went cold. His throat locked. Slowly, he turned his head toward the sword.
"…H-ha-ha-hallucination," he whispered. "Yes. That's it. Stress, lack of sleep, poverty. All blending together into… talking furniture." He scrambled backward and threw the sword across the floor. It clanged loudly, skidding against stone.
The voice snapped again. "Oi! Don't throw me like some worthless stick, you insolent brat!"
Aven's scream nearly shook the walls. "Haaahhhhhh! H-h-h-h-h-haunted sword! Demon sword! Cursed relic! Magic! Monster! Get away from meee!" He thrashed wildly, until—
"Shut up, moron! Some of us are trying to sleep next door!" yelled a neighbor through the thin house wall.
Aven froze mid-scream. "…Oh. Hehe. Right. Just the neighbor. Hahaha." He wiped his forehead, forcing a grin. "See? Totally normal. Nothing supernatural here. I'm fine. I'm sane."
"Normal?!" the sword barked. "I just spoke to you, human vermin. This is no hallucination!"
Aven blinked. His grin faded. "…You mean to tell me you're real?" He rubbed his eyes furiously. "Great. Fantastic. First Dad dies, then I get saddled with an ancient rusty mouthpiece. Where's the refund counter for destiny?"
The sword floated up on its own, a dark aura spilling into the room. Its voice thundered, layered with an otherworldly echo. "Foolish human! I am Sephiroth, the Legendary Bloody Sword. The blade that seals great sin!"
The pressure slammed into Aven's chest. His knees buckled, sweat dripping down his face as though the air itself were crushing him.
"I—I'm sorry, Lord… uh, Sepithot? Sepitot? Whatever!" he babbled, bowing so fast his forehead nearly dented the tatami. "I was just following Dad's instructions, okay?! Please don't vaporize me, I still have bills to pay!"
The sword paused. "Wait. Who is your father?"
"Kaoru Allain," Aven muttered.
The silence that followed was heavier than stone. Then the sword roared with laughter. "What?! You are Allain's offspring? Don't insult me with such weak blood!"
"Hey!" Aven snapped, offended. "I may be weak, but I'm affordable! And loyal! …Well, mostly loyal. Unless someone pays better."
"Pathetic," Sephiroth sneered. "Your father was no ordinary man. He was the Attendant of Insanity, a Pureblood Bounder who once defied the very Sinners Order itself. And you? You're nothing but a sniveling penny-pincher."
Aven's jaw dropped. "…Bounder? Pureblood? Attendant of—what the hell are you even talking about?! Speak Japanese, you glorified butterknife!"
"Argh! How is this fool my new wielder?!" the sword groaned.
"Long ago, someone clawed their way up from the Lower Dimension into ours. That realm was nothing like this one—endless, violent, and forever breaking itself apart. Those who crossed over were called Bounders, and many left only chaos in their wake.
To stop them, one Bounder founded the Bounder Hunter Association, backed by the government. From then on, Bounders were divided into two kinds: Purebloods, born of the Lower Dimension, and Halfbloods, Earth-born humans who had stolen its power."
Aven scratched his head. "…So what you're saying is, Dad came from some… alternate world? And that makes me… what, exactly?"
"Half-blood. A descendant of two dimensions."
Aven's eyes widened. "…Ohh,,Thats why People's names in Japan are different. I think it's because of modern developments.—"
"Yes."
"…Double inheritance taxes."
Sephiroth nearly dropped itself to the ground.