Kagura of the Moonlight: The Immortal Bride and the Reincarnated Programmer
Sora Kagura had everything—until a single virus erased every line of code he'd ever written and dragged him into a world where the moon hangs three times too large and nothing follows the rules he knows.
Now he's stranded in a parallel world with no stamina, no combat skills, and no way home. His only lead: a torn nameplate reading "Yuzaki." His only guide: Kougetsu Kaguya, a masked girl in a black kimono who claims he carries the "blood of the moon" and that she needs his power.
But what powe
Kagura of the Moonlight: The Immortal Bride and the Reincarnated Programmer - The Dining Table Under the Moon: 1400 Years of Tears and the First Defeat
Evening of the fifth day since Sora began staying at the Yuzaki house.
Kagura Sora gazed out the guest room window at the sinking sun. The sky was slowly shifting from orange to purple. That strangely massive moon was beginning to show itself faintly in the eastern sky.
(Five days, huh.)
Sora checked the old digital watch on his left wrist. 5:48 PM.
On the night of the third day, Tsukikage no Shisha had appeared around the Yuzaki house. Stretching invisible threads in every direction, probing for the barrier. Sora had tried to trace him with his smartphone, and Kaguya had thrown herself into harm's way, taking severe injuries.
That night still wouldn't leave his head.
Kaguya's blood-soaked kimono. Her pale face. And even then, she'd said, "Your analysis wasn't wasted."
(Wasn't wasted, huh.)
Sora pulled his smartphone from his pocket. The screen was intact. It had nearly been crushed in his grip on the third night, but somehow it still worked. Battery at forty-two percent.
He opened the notes app.
"Treat the world's rules as code."
"Analyze and reinforce the barrier's structure."
"Completely nullify the control signals of the Moonfolk's threads."
(I haven't accomplished a single thing.)
Sora narrowed his deep brown eyes. When he was deep in thought, his focus would drift out of alignment.
His fingers tapped unconsciously against the desk. Tap. Tap.
(The logic makes sense. But this world's rules are fundamentally different from the programs of my old world.)
(Too many variables. I don't know the constants. And besides—)
"Sora-kun, dinner's ready!"
Nasa's voice came from down the hallway.
"...Yeah, coming."
Sora pocketed his phone and stood.
―――
The closer he got to the kitchen, the stronger the smell became.
The aroma of rice cooked in a clay pot. And beneath it, the sweet-and-salty scent of soy sauce mingled with dashi.
Sora stopped in the kitchen doorway.
Yuzaki Tsukasa was there.
Her long black hair was gathered at the back, held by a deerskin barrette. Pale skin. A petite frame. Wearing an apron, she was staring intently into a pot.
A miso soup ladle in her left hand. Cooking chopsticks in her right. Deftly, yet somehow carefully, she was checking the seasoning of the simmered dish.
(This is the first time I've actually talked to her.)
Five days under the same roof. And yet Sora had barely exchanged a word with Tsukasa.
Breakfast was always finished before Sora woke up. Lunch, everyone ate whatever they liked. Dinner was usually the three of them—Nasa, Kaguya, and himself.
Tsukasa was always in the kitchen. But Sora had kept his distance, somehow.
(The immortal girl. The one the Moonfolk are after.)
(I didn't know what kind of face to make when talking to her.)
"Oh my."
Tsukasa looked up.
Her large, clear black eyes fixed directly on Sora.
And in that instant—
Tsukasa's expression changed.
Her brows dipped, just slightly. Her lips trembled, faintly. Something wavered deep in those black eyes.
—A face on the verge of tears.
Sora felt his breath stop.
(What was that just now?)
(Why would she make a face like that?)
As if she'd been reunited with someone dear after a thousand years.
That was the kind of face it was.
But it lasted only a moment.
The next instant, Tsukasa wore a soft smile.
"So you're the one Kaguya-chan told me about. Dinner's ready."
"...Ah, yes. Thanks for having me."
That was all Sora could manage.
(What was that just now?)
(Does she know me?)
(No—we've never met before.)
A small knot of unease lodged itself in his chest.
―――
Four portions of food were laid out on the dining table.
White rice cooked in a clay pot, steam rising from it. Simmered seasonal vegetables—taro, carrots, konnyaku. Miso soup with tofu and wakame. And grilled fish—hokke.
"Whoa, this is a feast today! Thanks, Tsukasa-chan!"
Nasa's eyes sparkled behind her glasses.
"It's the first proper dinner since Sora-san arrived. I may have gotten a little carried away."
Tsukasa smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.
"...Let's eat."
Sora pressed his palms together.
"Let's eat."
"...Let's eat."
Kaguya also brought her hands together, small and quiet. Her face, now that the black mask was off, was as expressionless as ever. But the way she held her chopsticks seemed somehow happy.
Sora took a bite of the simmered dish.
(...This is good.)
The taro was meltingly soft. The dashi soaked gently into his tongue.
"...It's delicious."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Fufu, thank you. I'm glad it suits your taste."
Tsukasa smiled, pleased.
"Hey, Sora-kun. Tell me more about your programming."
Nasa leaned forward.
"My programming?"
"Yeah, yeah. The code you were writing the other day—it was fascinating. That kind of thinking isn't something you see in an ordinary high schooler. I can see why you won that contest."
"...That was just a fluke."
Sora looked down slightly.
(A fluke, huh.)
(The truth is, I should have been able to write something far better.)
(If it weren't for that virus.)
"No need to be modest. Coming from the man who reaches light speed faster than NASA, I know what I'm talking about."
Nasa said it with a laugh.
"...There's that catchphrase again."
Sora couldn't help but smile wryly.
"What's wrong with it? Anyway—that recursive processing you wrote, that was interesting. I never would've thought of writing it that way."
"That was for memory efficiency... no, but your code is far faster. Honestly, that speed is abnormal."
"Haha, well. But speed isn't everything. Your code has ideas that only you could come up with. That's a value separate from speed."
Sora's chopsticks stopped.
(Ideas only I could come up with.)
(I see. There's that way of looking at it too.)
"...Thank you."
Sora said it honestly.
"I can make sushi too, you know."
Tsukasa said it suddenly.
"Huh?"
"I can make sushi too. Next time, I'll prepare some for you."
Tsukasa beamed.
"Tsukasa-chan's nigiri is ridiculously good. Look forward to it."
"As long as I have the ingredients, I can make anything."
(She really does love cooking.)
Sora thought that, looking at Tsukasa's smile.
The air at the table was warm.
The steam of the miso soup. The rice in the clay pot. The smell of the simmered dish. Nasa's laughter. The quiet sound of Kaguya chewing.
(There's a place for me here.)
For the first time, Sora felt that.
In his old world, he'd been alone. At school, at home—always alone. Programming was the only thin thread connecting him to the world.
But here, there were people who ate meals with him.
"Sora-san, would you like seconds?"
"...Ah, yes. Please."
Sora held out his bowl.
Tsukasa scooped him a serving of fluffy white rice.
"Here you go. Please eat plenty."
"...Thank you."
(Warm.)
The heat of the bowl seeped into his palms.
(Is this what family feels like?)
Sora let out a small breath.
―――
After dinner, the cleanup began.
Sora helped carry the dishes.
"Oh, you don't have to. You're a guest—please relax."
"No, at least let me do this. You've been taking care of me."
"Well, thank you. That helps."
Tsukasa smiled happily.
Sora stood beside Tsukasa at the sink, drying the dishes.
(This isn't bad.)
(No—it's actually nice.)
"Do you not cook at home, Sora-san?"
"...Not really. I lived alone, so I'd just grab things from the convenience store."
"Oh my, that's not good for your health. Shall I teach you some simple recipes sometime?"
"...I'd like that."
Sora nodded honestly.
"Fufu, I'll look forward to it."
Tsukasa laughed.
―――
After the cleanup was done.
When Sora returned to the living room, Tsukasa was doing something in the corner of the kitchen.
She spread out a white cloth and laid a single katana on top of it.
The blade reflected the kitchen light, gleaming coldly.
With a small oil flask and a cloth, Tsukasa was carefully wiping down the blade.
(Maintaining a sword.)
Sora stopped in his tracks.
Tsukasa's movements were practiced. No wasted motion, no hesitation. Wipe the blade, apply a thin layer of oil, wipe again.
Her bearing was completely different from the housewife who'd been cooking dinner moments ago.
(This person has two faces.)
(The one who creates a warm dinner table, and the one who tends a blade.)
(And the two are connected—one continuous line.)
Sora watched Tsukasa's profile.
Her large, clear black eyes were fixed on the blade. Those eyes, at times, grew deep and dark, as if reflecting fourteen hundred years of history.
"...Tsukasa-san."
Sora spoke up.
"Oh, Sora-san. Is something the matter?"
Tsukasa looked up.
"You take good care of that sword."
"Yes. It's very precious to me."
Tsukasa said it without taking her eyes off the blade.
"...For fighting the Moonfolk?"
At Sora's words, Tsukasa's hands stopped for just a moment.
"...Yes."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"But the blade won't cut them. Not against those people."
"...Even so?"
"Even so."
Tsukasa sheathed the sword.
Clink.
A quiet sound echoed through the kitchen.
"There's little I can do. But it's better than doing nothing at all."
Tsukasa looked at Sora.
Her eyes were direct.
"Sora-san. You don't have to fight. This is my problem."
"...No."
Sora shook his head.
"I came to this world and found a place to belong for the first time. I don't want to lose it."
At Sora's words, Tsukasa's eyes widened slightly.
"...I see. Thank you."
Tsukasa smiled faintly.
―――
The night deepened.
Sora sat facing Kaguya in the living room.
Between them lay a notebook and Sora's smartphone.
"What's the barrier's status?"
"Weakening. The previous messenger's interference damaged several nodes."
Kaguya spoke matter-of-factly.
"Can it be repaired?"
"My blood has limits. Moon blood isn't suited to repairing the barrier."
"...Then what do we do?"
"I need your analysis. If the barrier's structure can be understood as code, it might be repairable."
Sora opened the notebook.
"I'll try. But it'll take time. The barrier's structure is completely different from a normal program. Variables, functions—everything's an unknown."
"There's still time. The Moonfolk will make their real move on the next full moon. Ten days from now."
"Ten days... that's short."
"But you can do it."
Kaguya stared at Sora.
"I guarantee it. Your analysis isn't wrong."
"...On what grounds?"
"The moon is restless."
Kaguya's catchphrase.
Sora let out a small sigh.
"That again."
"Think about meaning over efficiency. You operate on logic. But there are things logic alone can't protect."
"...I know."
Sora dropped his gaze to the notebook.
(Things logic alone can't protect.)
(Tsukasa-san's smile. Nasa-san's laughter. Kaguya's—that clumsy kindness of hers.)
(Those are what I want to protect.)
"—"
That was when it happened.
BOOOOOM!!!
An explosion sounded from the direction of the entrance.
The whole house shook.
"What—"
Sora shot to his feet.
"He's here."
Kaguya's voice dropped.
"Tsukikage no Shisha...!"
"Run. Get to Tsukasa."
The two of them bolted at the same moment.
―――
The entrance had been destroyed.
The door had been blown apart from the inside, as if it had burst outward. Splinters of wood were scattered across the hallway.
And beyond it—
Long silver hair.
Hair that gleamed coldly under the moonlight.
Golden eyes. Vertically slit pupils.
A man who never dropped his smile, yet whose eyes held no mirth at all.
Tsukikage no Shisha.
"Good evening, everyone of the Yuzaki household. And—daughter of Hourai."
The messenger walked forward slowly.
His fingers were unnaturally long. Fingers that radiated the obsession of one who never lets go of what he grasps.
"You've kept me waiting quite a while. No—it wasn't you I was waiting for. It was that body of yours."
The messenger's golden eyes locked onto Tsukasa.
"Tsukasa-san!"
Sora shouted.
Tsukasa emerged from the living room. The katana was in her hand.
"...You came."
Tsukasa's voice was quiet. But in her eyes dwelt a silent fury.
"Yes, I've
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