My escape to the cybercafe provides a temporary reprieve, but reality crashes back in with the force of a poorly aimed Spirit Bomb the moment I walk through the door of my apartment. Rina is waiting for me, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, meticulously cleaning her Ectiqa prop sword (the 'Celestial Blade of Slightly-Singed Edges,' as I call it after a minor incident involving the faulty heat gun) with a look of intense concentration that usually means she is either deeply focused on achieving a mirror shine or plotting my demise in excruciating detail.
"You are late," she says without looking up, her voice dangerously calm, each word perfectly enunciated. "Your 'research' at the library took exactly three hours and seventeen minutes. An unusually specific duration for studying Heian-period agriculture. Did you perhaps discover a particularly fascinating turnip?"
My blood runs cold. She timed me. Of course she timed me. She probably has my entire schedule synced to an atomic clock with built-in sibling surveillance alerts. "It was… very in-depth research," I stammer, scrambling for a plausible explanation while trying to subtly check if I smell like cybercafe coffee. "Fascinating stuff. Crop rotation techniques. The socio-economic impact of early rice cultivation… the influence of turnip placement on feudal politics… riveting." My lies are becoming increasingly elaborate and decreasingly believable.
Rina finally looks up, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She slowly, deliberately wipes a non-existent speck of dust from her prop sword's hilt. "Right. Crop rotation. Turnips." She clearly does not believe me, not even for a nanosecond, but she lets it go, for now, perhaps deciding to store this transgression away for future use in our ongoing sibling cold war. Her attention shifts. "Anyway, while you were… deeply engrossed in agricultural history… this arrived."
She gestures with her chin towards the coffee table. Sitting there, looking incongruously elegant amidst the usual clutter of manga and half-finished prop pieces, is a sleek, expensive-looking black envelope addressed simply to 'Ectiqa.' There is no return address, but the courier service logo printed discreetly in the corner is one used by major corporations and possibly international spy agencies.
"Looks official," I say cautiously, approaching the envelope like it might be booby-trapped (which, given the sender is probably Haruka, is a distinct possibility). "Maybe Nexus Games wants a follow-up interview? Or maybe it is a cease and desist order regarding your glitter usage?"
"Maybe," Rina says, her voice tight with an unusual lack of enthusiasm. She picks up the envelope, her usual Ectiqa-related excitement strangely absent, replaced by a palpable sense of unease. She carefully slices it open with a letter opener shaped like a miniature katana (a gift from a particularly fervent fanboy).
Inside is not a corporate letter demanding more promotional appearances or threatening legal action. It is a single sheet of thick, luxurious, cream-colored parchment paper. Written on it, in elegant, slightly archaic-looking calligraphy that is instantly recognizable, is a message.
Rina reads it aloud, her voice growing increasingly confused, then alarmed, her earlier suspicion replaced by genuine worry.
"To the Sun Goddess, whose light shines brightly (perhaps a bit too brightly at times, causing glare),A shadow falls upon this land, a Knight of Crimson Hue (and suspiciously perfect hair).His gaze is sharp, his motives veiled, his interest… deeply misplaced (and frankly, insulting to those of us with superior taste).Beware the charm that hides deceit, the smile that masks a blade (or possibly just a well-concealed ego).Protect the Star that guides your path (the vulnerable, naive one, not me), lest darkness claims its prize (i.e., your clueless brother).A Rival's warning, or a Friend's concern? (Probably both, it is complicated). Discern the truth with care (and maybe invest in better security).- H."
Silence. We both just stare at the cryptic, passive-aggressive, and deeply concerning message, then at each other.
"H?" I echo stupidly. "Who signs a threatening, poetic warning message with just 'H'?"
"Haruka," Rina breathes, her eyes widening in realization as she processes the parenthetical snark. "It has to be. 'A Rival's warning'? 'Crimson Knight'? 'Misplaced interest'? She is talking about Ichigo! And you!" Her head whips around to glare at me. "Again!"
"Me?!" I yelp, feeling profoundly and unfairly implicated in this web of poetic intrigue. "What did I do now?! I just exist!"
"She thinks Ichigo is after you!" Rina says, her voice rising with a mixture of fear, fury, and possibly a tiny bit of flattered panic. "And she is warning me? Why would she warn me? Does she think I am incapable of protecting my own Onii-chan? Does she think I need her help?!"
"Okay, deep breaths," I say, trying to calm her down before she incinerates the parchment with her glare. "Maybe… she genuinely sees Ichigo as a threat? To both of you? And maybe she thinks warning you, her primary rival, is strategically advantageous in some twisted, Haruka-logic kind of way?"
"Or maybe," Rina mutters darkly, her eyes narrowing as she re-reads the message, her fingers crumpling the elegant parchment slightly. "This is some kind of elaborate mind game. A trick. Trying to make me paranoid about Ichigo so I focus on him instead of her. Or trying to make me think she is protecting you, trying to score points!" She smooths out the paper, her gaze fixed on the line: "'Protect the Star that guides your path'? What star? Is she talking about herself again, the egomaniac? Or…" Her gaze snaps towards the general direction of Aiwa's apartment building, her eyes widening with a new, horrifying possibility. "LUNA? Does she think Ichigo is using me to get to Aiwa?!"
My own blood runs cold again. Haruka knows I know Aiwa is LUNA (or at least, she strongly suspects, and Haruka's suspicions tend to be alarmingly accurate). Is this message a genuine warning about Ichigo's potential interest in LUNA, using me as the conduit? Or is it a coded warning to Rina about my growing connection to Aiwa, using Ichigo as a convenient, shared boogeyman? The layers of potential manipulation, the sheer Machiavellian complexity of Haruka's brain, are making my head spin faster than a malfunctioning gyroscope.
"This is insane," I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Her brain operates on a different frequency. Can we just ignore it? Pretend it is junk mail? Maybe file it under 'Cryptic Warnings from Possibly Evil Rivals'?"
"No!" Rina insists, her expression hardening with a new, unsettlingly strategic resolve. She smooths out the parchment with a determined air. "Haruka might be a snake dipped in Chanel No. 5, but she is a smart snake. If she is warning me about Ichigo, even passive-aggressively, there is a reason. 'Beware the charm that hides deceit'… 'the smile that masks a blade'…" She looks genuinely worried now, her personal rivalry momentarily forgotten (or perhaps just reprioritized) in the face of a potential, shared threat. Her protective instincts, usually focused solely and intensely on me, seem to be extending, however reluctantly, to the larger strategic landscape.
"Okay," I say slowly, a sense of deep foreboding settling over me. "So, what do we do? Form an official anti-Ichigo task force? Start practicing defensive maneuvers?"
Rina looks at the message again, then at me. A new, unsettlingly strategic glint appears in her eyes, the same one she gets right before unveiling a particularly devastating new Ectiqa pose. "We use this," she says, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her face. "Haruka wants to warn me? Fine. Let's work together. For real this time. A temporary alliance. We need to figure out what Ichigo really wants. And," she adds, her voice dropping, her gaze sharpening, "we need to keep an even closer eye on Aiwa Matsuki. If Haruka thinks she is the 'Star' Ichigo might be after… then Aiwa is no longer just a rival. She is a potential target. And," her eyes flick towards me, "a potential liability."
My brief moment of digital escape, my hour of uncomplicated friendship with Izumi, is officially over. Haruka's cryptic, passive-aggressive, possibly multi-layered warning message has just reignited the chaos, pulling me deeper into the tangled, dangerous web of cosplay rivalries, secret identities, burgeoning crushes, and now, apparently, poetic warnings about crimson knights, endangered stars, and clueless brothers caught in the middle. My life needs a 'skip cutscene' button, and possibly a bodyguard.