Chapter 2

He awoke on the second day of high school in the same way as the first. He may have advanced to high school, but it wasn’t as though the earth’s rotational period had changed.

He splashed a bit of water on his face—he would clean it more thoroughly again later—and changed into his usual outfit.

When he went down into the dining room, he found that Miyuki had already started making breakfast.

“Good morning, Miyuki. You’re up earlier than usual today.”

Dawn was just breaking, and the spring sun had yet to show its face.

It was still far too early to go to school, of course. School started at eight o’clock sharp, and it took them thirty minutes to get to school, including walking. They just needed to leave at 7:30. Making breakfast, eating it, and cleaning up… Even all that would end up leaving them with more than an hour of free time.

“Good morning, Tatsuya.” She held out a cup with fresh juice in it. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” After politely thanking her, he downed it in one gulp and placed it back into her outstretched hand. —Miyuki had a perfect grasp of how long it took Tatsuya to breathe.

As she turned back toward the kitchen counter, he was about to tell her he’d return shortly, but Miyuki suddenly stopped working and turned to him again.

“Tatsuya, I was thinking that perhaps I could go with you this morning…”

As she finished her sentence, she held up a basket containing sandwiches to him. She hadn’t started making breakfast a minute ago—she must have actually just finished it.

“I don’t mind, but… In your uniform?” Tatsuya asked, glancing between the sweats he was wearing to the school uniform that appeared from underneath her apron.

“I still haven’t reported my promotion to Sensei, so… And besides, I can no longer keep up with your training,” answered Miyuki.

So she had changed into her uniform this early so that she could go show it off to the man. “All right. You don’t need to do the same thing for training as I do, but if that’s the case, I’m sure Master will be happy… I just hope he’s not so happy he loses his self-control.”

“Just protect me if that happens, okay?”

His sister cutely shut one eye, and a natural smile crossed Tatsuya’s face.

The brisk, early-morning air was still chilly as she hovered up the sloping road, her long hair and skirt hem fluttering in the breeze.

Miyuki was dashing up the long, gentle mountain road without kicking off at all in defiance of the laws of gravity. She was pushing sixty kilometers per hour.

Tatsuya ran beside her. He, though, was jogging—but his stride was more than ten meters long. Compared to Miyuki, however, his expression was in no way relaxed.

“Shall I slow my pace a bit…?” asked Miyuki, swiveling around and sliding up backward on one foot.

“No—it wouldn’t be training then,” answered Tatsuya, not out of breath, but clearly growing fatigued.

Their shoes didn’t have some kind of propulsion mechanism inside or anything—needless to say, their speed was a product of magic.

Miyuki was using magic to slow the gravitational acceleration being applied to her, as well as magic to move her own body toward a destination up the slope.

Tatsuya was using magic to amplify the acceleration and deceleration created by kicking off the road, as well as magic to suppress his movement in the vertical direction so he wouldn’t launch himself off the ground.

Both were simple compound techniques to control movement and acceleration. Miyuki was one thing, but because of their simplicity even Tatsuya, who was only able to become a Course 2 student, was able to continuously cast it.

In this case, it was difficult to say for sure who had it harder—Miyuki in her in-line skates, or Tatsuya running under his own power.

At a glance, Miyuki looked like she had it easier, since her in-line skates were lessening her physical exertion. Since she wasn’t using her own feet, though, she needed to use magic to control her movement vector in every direction. Tatsuya, on the other hand, was determining his direction of movement by actually running.

Tatsuya needed to keep casting the spell with every step, while Miyuki couldn’t take her hands off the spell’s controls for even a moment.

The two had each assigned themselves fundamentally different exercise regimens.

Their destination was about ten minutes from their house—well, at the speed at which they were running—and sitting atop a small hill.

In a word, it was a temple. But those who gathered there seemed like a far cry from priests, monks, or novices. If you needed a good term for them, they were pretty close to warrior monks.

Girls, and especially young girls, would normally be too scared to come near the temple’s atmosphere. Miyuki, though, passed right on through it without hesitation on her in-line skates. It was strange to see her being so bold, since she was so well mannered all the time. The owner, however, had said “I don’t mind” so many times it had started to get annoying, so everyone was already used to it.

Tatsuya wasn’t there, but not because he couldn’t keep pace with Miyuki. He was in the middle of a violent welcome that burst on him as soon as he entered the temple gate.

This welcome was essentially just practice, though.

When he first started coming to this temple, he would practice against one senior member at a time. At this point, though, instead of such a round-robin format, they would just throw twenty beginner pupils at him all at once.

Miyuki stopped in the front garden of the main temple, worried, and turned back toward her brother, who was now buried in the crowd. She heard a bright voice from behind her.

“Ah, Miyuki! It’s been quite a while.”

Her senses were very sharp, so she had been suitably cautious about the experience repeating itself—but because of that, it shocked her even more. She slowly came to realize the futility of it, but she still couldn’t help but protest. “Sensei…I have asked you many times over not to conceal yourself and sneak up on me…”

“Don’t sneak up on you? You make some pretty tough requests yourself, Miyuki. I’m a shinobi, after all. Sneaking up on people is our nature.”

With his neatly trimmed hair and yukata dyed in black, the man looked appropriate for the situation. His actual age aside, his looks and the air he gave off were anything but old.

He was just wandering about, but he exuded a vulgarity that was difficult to describe. And though he wore priestly clothing, he was indescribably suspicious.

“You can’t get employed as a ninja anymore. I wish you would reform that nature of yours.”

But even Miyuki’s serious protest was answered by a tongue clicking and hand waving. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’m no ninja—they’re snobs, and riddled with misunderstandings—I’m a historically accurate shinobi. It’s not an occupation, it’s a tradition!”

—He was, in any case, vulgar.

“I’m aware that you are historically accurate. That’s why I find it strange. Sensei, why are you so—” —frivolous? Miyuki didn’t say the word. She had already learned it would do her no good.

This fake priest—well, on paper, he was a real priest—was named Yakumo Kokonoe, and he was a self-styled shinobi, the more general term for which was “ninjutsu user.”

As he himself was insisting, he passed down old forms of magic. He was clearly different from the premodern spies who excelled only in physical abilities.

Magic was an object of science. When the masses fully realized that it was more than pure fiction, people learned that ninjutsu, too, was no mere classical martial art and system of spy techniques—the truly secret parts were a variety of magic.

The uncanny techniques that had been thought to be false—made to be thought of as false—were actually closer to the true form of ninjutsu.

Of course, as was the case with other magical systems, not everything in legends was truth.

They discovered that their “transformations,” essentially the classic storybook example of ninjutsu, were simply combinations of illusions and high-speed movement. Shadow cloning techniques—and not just those from ninjutsu, but from traditional magic in general—were varieties of this trick. Actual cloning, transformation, and transmutation were all fields defined as impossible by modern magic.

Yakumo Kokonoe, whom Miyuki called Sensei and Tatsuya called Master, was a successor of the old magic, the true art of ninjutsu passed down for a very long time.

But even leaving aside his priestly attire (which also seemed contrived), his own appearance and behavior both seemed quite far away from historically accurate…

“Is that the First High uniform?”

“Yes, yesterday was the entrance ceremony.”

“I see, I see! Hmm, yes, very nice.”

“…I thought I would, um, tell you I started school…”

“Such a fresh, brand-new uniform. So clean and tidy, and yet it has this irresistible allure.”

“…”

“It is like a flower bud about to bloom—a newborn, tender sprout blossoming forth. Yes…it is moé! This is moé! Hm?”

He went on and on, getting more excited, and kept inching toward Miyuki as she edged backward. But then, suddenly, he whipped around, squatted, and raised his left hand above his head.

There was a smack as his arm blocked a downward chop.

“Master, you’re scaring Miyuki. Could you calm down a little?”

“…Not bad, Tatsuya. You took me by…surprise!”

Keeping Tatsuya’s right hand busy with his left, Yakumo fired a right straight at him.

Tatsuya broke the joint lock by waving his right hand up, then back down, and then took the attack as if wrapping it up, then grabbed on to Yakumo’s side.

He didn’t fight it—he rolled forward, and his foot flew toward the back of Tatsuya’s head. Tatsuya quickly dodged it with a twist.

The two came apart.

There was an audible exhalation from the spectators.

A ring had formed around their face-off at some point.

Tatsuya and Yakumo went in again.

Miyuki wasn’t the only one whose hands were sweating.

This customary, every-morning disturbance had been continuing ever since Tatsuya was a freshman in junior high—that October, to be precise. After it ended, the temple grounds were once again quiet. The novices all returned to their religious services, leaving the Shiba siblings and Yakumo alone in the front yard of the main temple.

“Here you are, Sensei. Tatsuya, would you like some as well?”

“Oh, Miyuki, thank you!”

“…Give me a moment.”

Yakumo smiled and took a towel and a cup from Miyuki. His expression still seemed relaxed, despite his sweating. Tatsuya, on the other hand, was sprawled out on the ground trying to bring his violent breathing back under control. After raising a hand and replying to Miyuki, he managed to peel himself off the ground.

“Tatsuya, are you all right…?”

He had sat up, but he was still on the ground. Miyuki knelt down next to him, worried, not being careful to not get her skirt dirty, and used the towel in her hand to wipe his dripping sweat.

“I’m fine.” Yakumo’s disagreeably warm stare wasn’t particularly bothering him, but Tatsuya pulled the towel from Miyuki’s hand, and with a deep breath, he rallied his energy and stood up.

“Sorry for getting dirt on your skirt.” Tatsuya’s own sweats were a bit more than a little dirty, but Miyuki offered no words to point it out.

“This much is no problem at all,” answered Miyuki with a smile. Instead of brushing off her skirt hem, she removed a long, thin portable terminal from her inside pocket. Then she fluidly typed a short number into the force feedback panel covering most of its surface.

The CAD that Miyuki owned was a multipurpose one made in the shape of a portable terminal. It was more risky to have than the most popular multipurpose CAD, which was made in the shape of a bracelet. However, the advantage to getting used to one was that you could use it with one hand. It was the preferred model of higher-ranking magicians who did lots of field work, since they disliked both hands being occupied.

The nonphysical light drew a complex pattern in her right hand, which was then absorbed into the CAD, and then the magic activated.

Modern magicians used a CAD—an electronic device born of magical engineering—in place of staffs, grimoires, incantations, mudra, and the like.

CADs came loaded with a synthetic substance called a Reaction Stone that converted psionic signals to electrical ones and vice versa. It used the psions supplied by the magician to activate an electronically recorded magic circle, or activation program.

Activation programs were the blueprints for magic. Each program contained at least the same amount of information as tedious incantations, complex symbols, and hastily assembled seal arrangements.

Human flesh was a good conductor of psions, so when the CAD emitted the activation program, the magician would absorb it through their skin. Then it would be sent to their magic calculation region, a subconscious mental system that magicians possessed. This region of the brain would then construct a magic program—a body of information that would implement the magic—using the activation program as a base.

In this way, a CAD instantly supplied all the information required to construct magic.

From out of nowhere, an intangible cloud appeared and wrapped itself around Miyuki. It started at her skirt, then crawled down her black leggings all the way to the tips of her boots, which she’d removed the in-line skate attachments from.

In addition, a few particles bubbling forth from midair drifted to Tatsuya’s back, then floated down his whole body.

Once the thin, faintly shining mist cleared, she was wearing an immaculate uniform, and his gym clothes were absolutely spotless.

“Would you like breakfast, Tatsuya? Sensei, you can eat with us if you like,” Miyuki said in a completely normal tone of voice. She lightly held up her basket, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world.

Tatsuya was actually well aware that this level of magic was practically nothing for his little sister.

Once they all sat down on the balcony, Tatsuya and Yakumo began filling their mouths with the sandwiches. Miyuki was taking only one bite at a time, since she was waiting on Tatsuya hand and foot, offering him tea and exchanging his dishes for him.

Yakumo watched them with a warm, yet somehow obnoxious expression. He took a towel that one of his monk pupils (complete with shaved head) held out for him and used it to clean his hands and mouth. Finally, he put his hands together and thanked Miyuki for the food, and murmured in a somewhat quiet and serious tone, “I may not be able to match up with Tatsuya in terms of raw physical ability anymore…”

Those were unmistakably words of praise. If the other novices had been here, they would have showered Tatsuya in unavoidable stares of envy—and the pupil waiting beside Yakumo was actually gazing at him with a mixture of resentment and jealousy.

Miyuki’s face was shining as if his praise had been directed at her. But Tatsuya’s mind couldn’t accept that simple commendation at face value.

“We have the same physical abilities, yet you’re still pulverizing me with one hand tied behind your back… And I’m supposed to be happy?” said Tatsuya. It was as much a rebuttal as it was a complaint.

Yakumo gave a tired smile. “It’s what we call only natural, Tatsuya. I am your master, and we sparred in my personal ring. You’re still fifteen. My students would all run away if I fell behind a child like you!”

“I think you should be a little more honest, Tatsuya. It isn’t every day that Sensei gives you a compliment. I think you should stick out your chest and smile about it.”

Both Yakumo and Miyuki spoke with teasing tones, but Tatsuya wasn’t so dense that he failed to grasp the admonishment from the former and the encouragement from the latter.

His bitter grin lost its bitterness and turned into a plain old grin.

“…I’d still look pretty bad if I did that…”

The people on their way to work or school boarded the small, stationary train cars one by one in an orderly fashion.

The term full train was basically extinct.

Trains had remained the main form of public transportation, but these hundred years had changed the idea behind it. Nobody used the large train cars that could hold dozens of people anymore, save for the few long-distance, high-speed trains where one’s seat needed to be reserved.

Instead, two-person cars called cabinets—small, linear, and government regulated—had become the modern norm. The tracks supplied them with both propulsion and energy, so they were about half as big as an automobile meant for the same number of people.

People were boarding the cabinets lined up on the platform in order, starting with the lead one. Once inside, they scanned in their destinations using tickets and passes, and the cabinets proceeded onto the service tracks.

Train lines were split into three tracks according to speed. An automatic traffic system controlled the distances between cars. It would also move you up the tracks from low speed to high speed. Then, as you approached your destination, it would shift you back down to the low-speed rails and deliver you to the platform. The system was similar to how cars change lanes on highways, but it was highly efficient due to advances in artificial neural networks, securing the same throughput as dozens of larger cars linked together.

In the case of mid- or long-distance intracity travel, your cabinet would be loaded onto a trailer, which would run on a fourth, faster track. Passengers would then be able to exit their cabinet, use the trailer’s facilities, and relax, but they weren’t used for commuting that often.

Coincidental meetings on trains, like the kind in old romance novels, never occurred with this modern train system. But in exchange for not being able to meet up with friends on the train ride, you wouldn’t need to fear the risk of molestation.

There were no security cameras or microphones within the cabinets. Because they were made so you couldn’t leave them while they were running, seats were equipped with emergency dividers between them. More important, the consensus of society was that passengers’ privacy was of utmost importance. Trains had become a private space, just like personal cars.

The cabinets, equipped with measures to prevent more than one person boarding at the same time, worked on a system where you’d be penalized for riding with less than their capacity. You could ride a two-seater by yourself, though if you had two or fewer people on a four-seater, you’d be slapped with an additional tax. But Tatsuya and Miyuki naturally never used separate cars, so they boarded the commute train next to each other again today.

Tatsuya had opened his terminal screen and was browsing the news when a hesitant voice began:

“Tatsuya, actually, I…”

He quickly brought his head up—it wasn’t like his little sister to be so inarticulate. She must have had bad news for him.

“I got a call from those people last night…” she said.

“Those people? Oh… Did Dad and the others get angry at you for some reason again?”

“No, not in particular… They seemed to at least have the good sense to choose the topic of congratulating their daughter on her enrollment. So…like I thought, Tatsuya, you didn’t…?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant… Nothing different here.”

At those words, her face clouded, and she looked down. The next moment, he heard an angry grinding of teeth drift out of the long hair concealing her expression. “I see… I had a faint hope, despite the circumstances, but you didn’t even get a single text in the end… Those people, they’re just so—”

“Just calm down,” soothed Tatsuya, grabbing her hand—she was trembling with such emotion that she couldn’t speak.

The room temperature inside the car suddenly dropped below the regulated level—the heater activated, despite the season, and filled the silent cabin with the sound of hot air blowing.

“…I apologize. I got out of sorts.”

After making sure her magic power was no longer running amok, Tatsuya let go of her hand. He lightly tapped on it a couple of times, then exchanged glances with her and smiled, as though telling her it was nothing to get hung up on.

“I ignored Dad’s order to help him at the company and decided to continue school instead. Of course they can’t congratulate me. You know Dad as well as I do.”

“My own parents being so childish and shameless just makes my blood boil. Anyway, if they wanted to separate you from me, common sense dictates that they first inform me of that, and then our aunt. But they weren’t even brave enough to do that. And apart from that, how much must those people use you until they’re satisfied? Does it not go without saying that fifteen-year-old children go to high school?”

The bit about needing to inform their aunt and such left him with a strong sense of unease—Tatsuya had no intention of leaving Miyuki alone just because someone ordered him to—but he didn’t let that show. Instead, he produced a cynical smile, purposely exaggerated and theatrical.

“It’s not commonly compulsory education, so it doesn’t go without saying. Dad and Sayuri both try to use me because they acknowledge I’m an adult, right? If they’re counting on me like that, I can’t get mad at them.”

“…If you say so, Tatsuya…” Miyuki nodded, though her reluctance caused Tatsuya to heave a sigh.

She didn’t know exactly what the Four Leaves Technology lab, the magical-engineering-device manufacturer their father was the head of R&D at, was making him do. She was under the false assumption that they were letting him do honest work as a side job.

If she had found out he was really just being treated as a recovery tool for research materials, she might have actually frozen up the transportation system. But the commute train, ignorant of his misgivings, smoothly switched over to a lower-speed lane.

The 1-E classroom was a disorderly mess as students began to arrive. The other classrooms were probably in a similar state of affairs.

It looked like there were a lot of students who had met each other yesterday, and they had already formed small groups that were making light conversation here and there.

He didn’t have anyone he needed to go out of his way to greet, so he decided to look for his terminal first. As he scanned the numbers on the desks, he unexpectedly heard his name called and looked up.

“Morning!” The voice was that of Erika, bright and brimming with energy as usual.

“Good morning.” Next to her, Mizuki was smiling at him, reserved but quite pleasant.

They seemed to have become fast friends. Erika was leaning on Mizuki’s desk and waving her hand. They’d probably been having a conversation before they spotted him.

Tatsuya raised a hand and returned their greeting, then made his way over to them.

Shiba and Shibata—it was more alphabetical order than coincidence, but Tatsuya’s seat was next to Mizuki’s.

“Looks like we’re next to each other again.”

“Yes, that it does. I look forward to it,” Mizuki replied with a smile. Then, next to her (actually, “above her” would have been accurate as well), Erika made a dissatisfied face. —Probably on purpose.

“I kinda feel left out!” Her voice had a sort of teasing echo to it.

Of course, Tatsuya wasn’t cute enough to be ruffled by something like that. “It seems like it would be really hard to leave you out of anything, Chiba.”

Erika squinted unhappily at his dry voice and tone. This time it didn’t entirely look like an act. “…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you’re an extremely social person,” said Tatsuya, maintaining his prim facial expression even on the receiving end of Erika’s glare.

Instead, it was Erika who made a subtly regretful face. “…Shiba, you’ve actually got a bad character, don’t you?”

After seeing Mizuki unable to suppress a smile out of the corner of his eye, Tatsuya placed his ID card on the terminal and began to review the information on it.

There was everything from elective rules, disciplinary rules, and usage rules for equipment to events that went along with enrollment, a guide to free-period activities, and the curriculum for the first semester. He scrolled through it quickly, hammering it into his head. Using only keyboard controls, he swiftly registered for courses. He had just brought his head back up to take a breath when his eyes met with a male student in the seat in front of him, whose eyes were wide and staring at his hands.

“…I don’t mind you looking, but…”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. It was just unusual. Couldn’t take my eyes off it.”

“Is it unusual?”

“I think it is. These days, nobody uses keyboard input only. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone do it.”

“If you get used to it, this way is faster, though. Eye cursors and brain wave assistance are a little lacking in the accuracy department.”

“That’s just it. You’re so fast. Couldn’t you earn a living doing that?”

“No… I would probably only be able to get a part-time job with it.”

“That so…? Whoops, forgot to introduce myself. I’m Leonhard Saijou. My dad’s a half and my mom’s a quarter, so I look like a pure Japanese person on the outside, but my name is Western. My specialty is convergence-type hardening magic. I hope to get a job that involves physical activity in the future, like a SWAT officer or a wilderness security officer. You can just call me Leo.”

It might seem odd given the state of today’s youth that someone would have already decided on a course for his future before even enrolling in high school, but magic high schools were different. The abilities—no, the very nature—of magicians (in the making) were deeply tied to their path through life. So when Leo included his future aspirations in his self-introduction, Tatsuya didn’t find it surprising.

“I’m Tatsuya Shiba. You can call me Tatsuya.”

“Okay, Tatsuya. What kind of magic is your forte?”

“I don’t have much in the way of practical skill, so I’m aiming to become a magic engineer.”

“Oh, yeah… You do look pretty smart.”

Magic engineers, short for magic engineering technicians, referred to the technical experts who manufactured, developed, and adjusted devices to supplement, amplify, and strengthen magic. Without tuning from an engineer, CADs, now an essential tool for magicians, were worse than a dust-covered magical tome.

Magic engineers were a step below magicians in terms of social standing, but the business world needed them more than normal magicians. The paychecks of first-rate magic engineers even exceeded those of first-rate magicians. That being the case, it wasn’t unusual that students of magic who lacked practical skill would endeavor to become magic engineers, but…

“Hm? What was that? Shiba, you want to be a magic engineer?”

“Tatsuya, who’s this?” asked Leo, pointing a finger somewhat tentatively at Erika, who had stuck her neck in energetically as if she’d gotten wind of a big scoop.

“Wow, did you just call me this? And point your finger at me? You’re so rude, so rude! You’re a rude person! This is why guys like you aren’t popular with girls.”

“Wha—? You’re the one being rude here! Your face might be a little easy on the eyes, but that doesn’t mean you can run your mouth like that!”

“Looks are important, you know! But I guess a guy who can’t tell the difference between looking sloppy and looking wild wouldn’t understand. And what’s with that expression? They only stopped using it, like, a century ago. Nobody says it anymore!”

“Wha, wha, wha…?”

Erika looked down at an angle with a composed sneer, while Leo was too dumbfounded to do much more than groan.

“…Erika, please stop. You said a little too much.”

“Leo, you give it a rest, too. The same goes for you, and I don’t think you can outtalk her anyway.”

Tatsuya and Mizuki each interposed themselves into the volatile air.

“…If you say so, Mizuki.”

“…All right, fine.”

They both turned their faces away, but kept their eyes on each other.

Both strong-willed, determined, and unyielding—maybe these two are actually a good fit for each other, thought Tatsuya.

The bell rang to signal the start of class, and the students, spread about wherever they pleased, returned to their seats.

This part of the system had been the same for a century, but beyond that, there were differences.

Each terminal that was still off automatically turned on, and the ones that were already booted up refreshed their windows. A message appeared on the screen in the front of the classroom at the same time.

The message was completely meaningless for Tatsuya. He was already at the point where he’d finished registering for his electives, and the online guidance was just a bore with too many visual effects bogging it down. Just as he decided he’d skip the whole thing and search through the school data, something unexpected occurred.

The main bell rang, and the front door opened. It wasn’t a student running late—it was a young woman, not in a school uniform, but a suit.

She was pretty in her own way—though not on the level that everyone would say so without hesitation—and she had a sort of charm about her. She went before the lectern, which had risen out of the floor, placed the large portable terminal she’d been carrying at her side atop it, and looked around the classroom.

Tatsuya wasn’t the only one stricken with surprise—the entire classroom was abuzz with confusion.

At schools with online classes that used a lectern terminal, teachers didn’t stand at the podium and teach. Classes were conducted across the terminal. Delivering messages to classrooms was even lower on the priority list, so schools never dispatched staff members to them. The staff controls in the classroom were used only when something out of the ordinary happened—at least, in theory.

Still, it went without saying that this woman was clearly part of the faculty.

“I see there’s nobody absent. Well then, everyone, congratulations on your enrollment.”

There were a few students who were lured in and responded with a bow—in fact, the male student he’d just met in the seat in front of him lowered his head and said, “Thanks.”

But Tatsuya couldn’t help but be confused at the woman’s odd behavior.

First of all, she didn’t need to physically look around to check attendance. The seating situation was being monitored in real time via the ID cards set up on their terminals. School officials also didn’t need to carry around terminals that large. There were consoles set up all over the school. Actually, even the lectern that had risen up from the floor should have been loaded with a console and a monitor.

And anyway, who was she? He hadn’t seen anything in the enrollment information about this school utilizing the anachronistic homeroom teacher system…

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Haruka Ono, one of the general counselors working at this school. We’ll be here if you need to talk about anything, and if you need a counselor more suited to a certain field, it is our job as general counselors to introduce you to them.”

…Come to think of it, there was something like that…

Tatsuya had skimmed over that bit, since for him the entire idea of having someone to talk your problems out with was nonexistent. This school having a complete counseling system was one of its selling points, though.

“There are a total of sixteen general counselors in the offices. A man and woman form a pair, and one pair is assigned to each class. Mr. Yanagisawa and I are assigned to this one.”

She stopped there and manipulated the console on the lectern. The upper portion of a man who looked to be in his midthirties appeared on the screen in the front of the classroom as well as on the displays on each desk.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m your other counselor, Yanagisawa. Ms. Ono and I have been assigned to this class, so I look forward to working with all of you.”

Haruka—or “Ms. Ono”—began to explain again, with the counselor Yanagisawa still on the screen.

“Counseling can be conducted through the terminals like this, but we don’t mind you coming in person to talk to us. All communications use quantum cryptography, and any results of counseling are stored in a stand-alone databank, so your privacy will never be invaded.” As she spoke, she held up a book-shaped databank that Tatsuya had mistaken for a large portable terminal.

“We will do all we can to ensure that all of you are able to lead a fulfilling life here at school.” She paused, and her superformal tone did a one eighty, becoming informal and gentle. “With that said, I’m looking forward to seeing you more!”

He could feel the energy in the classroom draining. That was some pretty fantastic emotional control—she had manipulated their levels of nervousness, even factoring her own appearance into it.

Despite her youth—she appeared to be straight out of university—she seemed very experienced. If she were to do this in a one-on-one situation, they might end up talking about things they weren’t planning to. This was an important quality for a counselor, but she could probably also make it as a spy.

One worth being cautious around, thought Tatsuya.

—On the screen behind her, her older male colleague, looking more and more worried the longer he was left up there, gave a bow and the image shut off. If that hadn’t happened, the impression he’d been giving would have been far stronger.

Haruka cleared her throat and reconstructed a businesslike smile, then continued to speak as if nothing had happened.

“I’m going to start the guidance for the school’s curriculum and establishments on your terminals. After that, you will register for your elective courses, and orientation will be over. If there’s anything you don’t understand, please press the call button. Those of you who have already looked over the curriculum guide and the establishments guide can feel free to skip the guidance and go straight to registering for electives.”

Haruka looked down at her lectern monitor then, and made a hm? face.

“…Those who have already registered for their electives can feel free to leave the room if they wish. However, once guidance has begun, you will be unable to leave the classroom, so if anyone wants to do so, please leave the room now. And don’t forget your ID cards when you go.”

A chair clattered, as if waiting for those words.

It wasn’t Tatsuya.

The one who stood up was a slender, high-strung young man. He sat a bit away from Tatsuya, in the front row at the window. He bowed toward the lectern, then turned his back to the classroom and exited to the hallway.

He left the classroom haughtily, appearing to act tough, not paying attention to the upturned gazes gathering on him from both sides. It drew Tatsuya’s interest, but only for a moment. Aside from Tatsuya, about half the class watched his back as he left, but their stares soon returned to the lectern.

It didn’t look like any others would leave early. It wasn’t as if Tatsuya disliked the place so much that he’d do something so conspicuous to get out of it.

He looked back at his hands, stopped on the keyboard, and wondered what to browse to pass the time, when suddenly he felt eyes on him and looked back up.

Haruka was looking at him from the lectern.

Even when their eyes met, she made no attempt to avert hers, and smiled sweetly at him.

What was that all about…?

He noticed it after that, too—Haruka was smiling at him. Not the whole time, though—she did it with short, reserved glances so the other students wouldn’t harbor suspicion, but it still created an air of excessive secrecy.

He could say for sure this was the first time they’d met.

It was clearly too frequent to be a merely friendly smile, so Tatsuya tried stepping back through his memories to figure it out. That used up a lot of time, but…

That wasn’t…her trying to get me to relax, was it? It seemed more like something to unsettle me… And I don’t think that a member of the faculty would be hitting on a student in the classroom, even if she isn’t a teacher…

As far as he could think, it was probably her being interested in Tatsuya for remaining in his seat even though he had finished registering just like the student who left had. But he still felt like it was still a fairly confidential smile, to put it in a positive light.

As he was puzzling over it, a voice addressed him from the seat in front of him.

“Tatsuya, what are you gonna do until lunch?”

Leo was looking at him, straddling his chair with his hands over its back and resting his chin on it, almost as if it were his regular pose. It was the exact same way he’d done it last time.

Eating lunch in the classroom was no longer a tradition in junior high schools and high schools. Information terminals were sensitive devices despite advances in waterproofing and dust-proofing tech. If you accidentally spilled soup on one, things could end up a disastrous mess.

Should he go to the cafeteria, to the courtyard, to the roof, to a clubroom—or should he just find any old place? It was more than an hour until the cafeteria opened.

“I had planned to stare at the catalog of information right here…but okay, I’ll come with you.”

Leo’s eyes, sparkling with fun, clouded with disappointment at what Tatsuya said. He smiled wryly at Leo’s truly transparent expressions and nodded. “Where should we go see, then?”

Magic wasn’t taught in public schools until after junior high school. Children with an aptitude for magic learned the basics at public cram school after regular school hours. At that stage, the children weren’t judged based on how good or bad their magical technique was—it was purely to further their potential. Whether or not they had the talent to walk the path of magic as a living was something decided by the students themselves and their parents or guardians. There were certain private schools that included magical education as an extracurricular activity, but magic went assiduously unnoted on students’ grades.

Serious magic education started at the high school level, and though First High was counted among the most difficult magic high schools to get into, this meant that there were many students who had advanced here from a normal junior high school. The upper-level, magic-related courses would have contained classes that those students had never seen before.

Today and tomorrow, the school had built time into the day to let students observe the classrooms they’d be in. It was to relieve some of the worries of the new students unfamiliar with such courses.

“Wanna go to the workshop?”

Tatsuya’s question to Leo’s response was this: “Not the arena?”

Leo grinned in a satisfied way at the unexpected inquiry. “I guess I do come off that way, huh? Well, you’re not wrong, but…”

On average, the students here would be intelligent. They had gotten into this school in the first place, after all. But this young man was—how should he put it? He was brimming with energy—he seemed like the outdoor type, or something. Frankly speaking, he came off like a rascal. It made him feel like he was more suited for going all-out in the arena than fiddling with sensitive devices in the workshop, and Tatsuya probably wasn’t the only one.

But upon hearing the next thing Leo said, he acknowledged his false impression.

“Hardening magic is most efficient when you pair it with weapon techniques, after all. I want to at least be able to take care of my own weapons by myself.”

“I see…”

Leo’s career of choice was a policeman—and a SWAT officer or member of a wilderness security force, at that. It things went as he hoped, he would have plenty of opportunities to use simple shields and weapons like batons, axes, and hatchets. Those tools had good affinity with hardening magic, and its effectiveness varied greatly depending on whether you were familiar with the properties of the materials making up the weapons.

His classmate seemed to have a far more grounded and realistic idea of his own aptitude and course for the future than he let on.

As the two of them finished their conversation, a shy request to join them came from the seat next to him. “If you’re going to see the workshop, may I go with you?”

“Shibata, you wanna go there too?” Erika interrupted from past Mizuki’s head.

“Yes… I want to be a magic engineer as well.”

“Ah, that makes some kinda sense!”

In the same way he had before, Leo gave an affected grimace. “You’re more the type to do physical labor, aren’t you? Just go to the arena or something.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you, you wild animal.”

Tit for tat.

“What was that? You were thinking of that one all day long, weren’t you?”

They always seemed to get into arguments right away. “Stop it, you two… You just met today.”

I still think they’re actually rather compatible, thought Tatsuya, breathing a sigh and trying to mediate, but it didn’t stop that easily.

“Heh, I bet we were bitter enemies in a past life.”

“Yeah, you were a bear wrecking the farmlands or something, and I was the hunter they hired to exterminate you.”

Mizuki had been meekly keeping out of it, but she had finally given up on this ending anytime soon, so she attempted a forced change of course. “Let’s get going! We’ll run out of time!”

Tatsuya took advantage of the opportunity without a moment’s delay. “You’re right! If we don’t go soon, we’ll be the last ones left in the classroom.”

Interrupted by their fast talking, Leo and Erika glared at each other in displeasure, then immediately both turned away.

Even on the second day, people were already solidifying into groups to move around in together. Maybe this was a quick adjustment, or maybe it was hasty, and perhaps it was only natural—Tatsuya didn’t know. But when he thought about whether he’d drawn a good lot, he decided that he had, in all probability.

Erika and Leo were both bright and outgoing, and Mizuki, while shy, seemed to have an easygoing personality. He was aware of his tendency to sink into cynicism, so he considered himself lucky that they had been the first friends he’d made at high school.

But “in all probability” didn’t mean 100 percent.

Those few percentage points that remained…

I’m very glad and everything that they aren’t obsequious, but can’t they do something about this? wondered Tatsuya calmly.

“Tatsuya…”

On the other hand, Miyuki was grabbing Tatsuya’s uniform cuff with her fingers, looking up at his face with a mixture of perplexity and unease.

“Don’t apologize for anything, Miyuki. This isn’t even 0.1 percent your fault,” replied Tatsuya, purposely in a strong voice, to encourage his sister.

“Yes, but… Will you stop them?”

“…That would probably have the opposite effect.”

“…Yes, perhaps. But still, I was rather surprised… Erika seemed the type, but to think Mizuki had that kind of personality as well…”

“…Same here.”

Watching over them from a few steps away—or maybe just watching them—the siblings’ eyes reflected a group of new students, split into two, glaring at each other in a volatile atmosphere. One group was Miyuki’s classmates, and the members making up the other were, of course, Mizuki, Erika, and Leo.

Act 1 had occurred in the cafeteria at lunchtime.

The First High cafeteria was rather large for a high school, but it would always get crowded at this time of year, because the new students didn’t know what was going on yet.

But Tatsuya and the others, who had left their observation of an upper-level course early and come to the cafeteria, secured a four-seat table without much trouble.

It seated four, but it was just two benches facing each other; you could probably fit three slender female students on one side.

When they were about halfway done with their food (Leo had already finished), Miyuki arrived in the cafeteria surrounded by both male and female classmates, saw Tatsuya, and hurried over to him.

That was the first bit of trouble—that Miyuki tried to eat with him. She wasn’t an eccentric who refused to mingle with her classmates, but in her mind, Tatsuya was the top priority.

Only one other person could sit at this table. Miyuki didn’t give her choice between her classmates or Tatsuya a second thought.

But of course, her classmates, especially the male ones, wanted to share a table with her.

At first, they used indirect expressions like “There’s no room” or “I don’t want to bother them.” Upon seeing how unexpectedly strongly fixated Miyuki was on this, some ended up saying things like “We shouldn’t share a table with Course 2 students” or “We should make a distinction between Course 1 and Course 2 students.” One even demanded Leo vacate his seat, since he’d finished eating.

Leo and Erika were on the verge of lashing out at the Course 1 students’ selfish, arrogant remarks. Tatsuya quickly finished eating, said something to Leo, informed Erika and Mizuki—who were still eating—and got up from his seat.

Miyuki apologized with her eyes to Tatsuya and the other three and, without sitting at the table that now had one empty side, walked away in the opposite direction.

Act 2 had been an event during an observation of an upper-level course that afternoon.

Class 3-A was having a test of practical skill in the long-range magic practice room, affectionately dubbed the “shooting range.” It was the class the student council president Mayumi Saegusa was a member of.

Students weren’t necessarily picked for the student council based on grades, but she was considered the kind of genius at long-range precise magic that came around only every ten years, and she had brought enough trophies to First High to back that up.

New students had heard the rumors about her as well. And they had seen her look more coquettish than those rumors at the entrance ceremony.

A large number of new students packed into the firing range to witness her skills, but only so many of them were able to observe it. When it came to it, amidst many Course 2 students giving their spots to Course 1 students, Tatsuya and the others boldly positioned themselves in the front row.

So of course, they were seen as obtrusive.

And Act 3 was now occurring, with Mizuki speaking in sharp tones just as they were leaving.

“Would you please just give up? Miyuki said she’s going home with her brother. Strangers shouldn’t be arguing with her about that.”

She was speaking to a student from 1-A. It was one of the faces they’d seen in the cafeteria during lunch break.

Basically, two of Miyuki’s classmates had been clinging to her as she waited for Tatsuya after school, and one had taken issue with him. Incidentally, that classmate was a girl. Meanwhile, the male student, as one would expect, had remained silent at the beginning, probably because he was worried about stares from others (or maybe Miyuki’s). But now, their restraint—or perhaps his common sense—had left the area.

“Miyuki isn’t treating you like nuisances, is she? If you wanted to go home with her, then you should just come along. What right do you have to tear the two of them apart?”

Unexpectedly, Mizuki was the first one to snap at the Course 1 students’ irrational actions. She kept her demeanor polite, but her logic was merciless as she delivered her oratory without taking even one step back from the Blooms she was speaking to.

Yes, at first it was logical, but…

“Tear us apart…?” murmured Tatsuya from a little ways away. He got the feeling that something was decisively off about that.

“M-Mizuki must be misunderstanding something, right?” After hearing her brother murmur, Miyuki started to get flustered for some reason.

“Miyuki… Why are you the one panicking?”

“Huh? No, I’m not flustered at all, am I?”

“And why do you keep asking questions?”

Glancing at the siblings who were central to this trouble as they were moving into a rather confusing situation, their “extremely considerate” friends were getting more and more heated up.

“We have something to talk to her about!” That was male classmate number one of Miyuki’s.

“That’s right! I’m sorry, Mr. Shiba, but we just need to borrow her for a bit!” That was female classmate number one of Miyuki’s.

Leo burst out laughing at their selfish complaints. “Hah! Do that during your free period. They put time aside for stuff like that, you know.”

Erika put on her best sarcastic face and tone and followed up. “Why don’t you get the person’s consent beforehand if you had something to talk to them about? You can’t just ignore Miyuki’s wishes and have a big discussion with her. Those are the rules. You’re in high school now—you know that, right?”

Erika’s words and attitude were meant to make them angry. It did just that—male student number one snapped. “Shut up! People from other classes, and Weeds at that, shouldn’t be messing with us Blooms!”

School rules forbade the usage of the term Weed on the grounds that it was discriminatory. It was a rule in name more than reality, but it still wasn’t a term to be used in a situation where this many people were listening.

The one who responded to that outburst head-on was—and this was not necessarily a surprise—Mizuki.

“Aren’t we all new students? How much better do you Blooms think you are at this point in time, anyway?” She wasn’t raising her voice by any stretch, but it still strangely reverberated through the schoolyard.

“…Uh-oh. This isn’t good,” Tatsuya thought aloud as a mumble. It was drowned out by the Course 1 student’s stifled voice, and only Miyuki, who was next to him, heard it.

“…If you want to know, then I’ll show you how much better we are!”

Mizuki’s claim was correct, based on the rules of the school, but at the same time, it was in a way rejecting the school’s system.

“Hah, that’s funny! Come on, give us a lesson!” Leo called out provocatively upon hearing the Course 1 student’s words, which could be taken either as a threat or an ultimatum. The situation had already reached a point where nothing could be done, so it didn’t do any good to mention it now, but he and Erika were in complete “tit for tat” mode.

Mizuki had the truth on her side. They knew it, too. That’s why those who lived comfortably within the current system—students and teachers alike—would respond emotionally.

Even if there was a clear breach of the rules here, unless it came from Mizuki’s side, most people would probably pretend they didn’t see it.

Even if it wasn’t only a breach of school rules—but against the law.

“Then I’ll show you!”

The only students permitted to carry their CADs inside school were the student council members and members of certain clubs.

Usage of magic outside school was strictly controlled by the law. However, possessing a CAD outside of school wasn’t forbidden. There would be no point.

CADs were currently an essential item for magicians, but they were not absolutely necessary to perform magic. One could use magic without a CAD. So just owning one wasn’t against the law.

Because of this, the school made students possessing CADs leave them in the office when classes began and come back to get them when they left school. Also because of this, students having CADs when going home from school wasn’t really that strange.

“A specialized type?”

But pointing one at another student was not a normal situation. In fact, it was an emergency—especially if the CAD being pointed was a specialized type focusing on attack power.

Casting Assistant Devices were split into two categories: multipurpose and specialized. Multipurpose ones could store a maximum of ninety-nine types of activation programs, but it put a large burden on the user. Specialized ones could hold only nine types, but they were fitted with subsystems to lighten the load on the user, allowing him or her to cast magic more quickly.

On top of that characteristic, there were many specialized CADs that stored activation programs for offensive magic.

With the shrieks of onlookers as background music, he stuck the “barrel” of his pistol-shaped, specialized CAD in Leo’s face.

This student wasn’t all bark. His skill at drawing his CAD, the speed at which he aimed—both were clearly the movements of a magic technician experienced in the ways of battle.

Much of magic depended on innate talent. That meant that at the same time, a lot in magic depended on your lineage. If you were a Course 1 student who had enrolled in this school with excellent grades, then even if you hadn’t received any magical education in school, you were more than likely to have received real combat experience from helping parents, family businesses, and relatives.

“Tatsuya!”

Before Miyuki had finished calling out, Tatsuya had already stuck out his right hand. He reached out, though his hand wouldn’t reach her from this distance.

Did the action mean something? Or was it a pointless reflex, created outside the realm of conscious thought? Whatever it was, here and now, it didn’t have any effect, because…

“Eeegh!”

The one who shrieked was the Course 1 student jabbing the gun in Leo’s face.

His pistol-shaped CAD had been sent flying out of his hand.

And before his eyes was Erika, smiling, having whipped out an extending police baton from somewhere. There was no lingering waver or panic in her grin. But he’d known from the start there had been none of that, just by seeing her skillful alertness, which almost gave away her personality. If the same thing happened a hundred more times, Erika would without a doubt smack the CAD out of the Course 1 student’s hand with her baton every single time. He could clearly see that ability in her.

“At this distance, whoever moves their body first is fastest.”

“Yes, but you were totally trying to hit my hand, too, weren’t you?”

No sooner had Erika let down her guard than she had returned to her nonserious demeanor and began to explain it proudly to him. Answering her was Leo, who had pulled his hand—which was about to grab the CAD—away at the last moment.

“Oh, no! I wouldn’t do anything like that.” Erika flashed a smile that might have been evasive, as though she might have instead put the back of her hand holding the baton to her mouth and gone Oh-ho-ho-ho!

Leo’s patience with her was wearing extremely thin. “You’re not fooling anyone with that dumb grin!”

“I’m serious. I can tell whether or not someone can dodge based on how they carry themselves. You may look like an idiot, but you seem like you have skill.”

“…You’re making fun of me, aren’t you? You’re making a complete fool out of me, aren’t you?”

“Well, I did just say you looked like an idiot, didn’t I?”

Forgetting about the “enemy” in front of them, the two of them went back and forth loudly, like a comedy routine. Tatsuya, Miyuki, and everybody else around were too amazed to say much. Miyuki’s classmate was the one who snapped out of it first and faced them.

It wasn’t the male student who had the specialized device knocked out of his hands—it was the female student behind him, whose fingers flew over her multipurpose bracelet CAD.

The systems inside sprang to life, and an activation program began to expand.

Activation programs were the blueprints for magic. The programming within directly defined how to formulate magic programs. Once it was finished expanding the activation program, it would then read it into the user’s magic calculation region, an unconscious location in their brain. It would input the values for the variables that denoted coordinates, output, and duration. Finally, it would build up the psions—and the magic program—according to the process described in the activation program.

The calculation region of the person’s subconscious would construct the magic program and then transfer it through a route between the lowest level of consciousness and the highest level of unconsciousness. Then the magic program would be projected from the gate existing between consciousness and unconsciousness into the external world of information. Thus would the magic program interfere with the projection’s target, the information bodies incident to events—in modern magic, these were referred to as eidos, from a Greek philosophy term—and temporarily overwrite the target’s information.

Information accompanied events. If you overwrote the information, you would overwrite the event. The state of events described in the psionic information bodies would temporarily alter the event in the real world.

This was the magical system that made use of CADs.

The speed at which psion information bodies were constructed was the user’s magical throughput. The scale at which the information bodies could be formulated was the user’s magical capacity. The intensity at which the magical program overwrote the eidos was the user’s influence. Currently, the three of these together were referred to as one’s magical power.

The activation programs that were the blueprints of magic were a type of psionic information body as well. However, they themselves couldn’t effect change in events. The CADs would convert the psions injected from the user into signals, then return an activation program to the user.

Broadly speaking, this was the function of a CAD. With the psionic information body (the activation program) supplied from the CAD as a base, the magician would construct a psionic information body (the magic program) to overwrite events.

Many specialized types were shaped like guns. The advantage to this was that they had an alignment support system on the part corresponding to the gun barrel. This system would embed coordinate information into the activation program when it was expanded. In doing so, it would lighten the computation load for the user.

From the magician to the CAD, and from the CAD to the magician.

If this psionic flow was obstructed, any magic using the CAD would cease to function.

For example, if you hit it with a clump of psions from the outside while the activation program was being deployed or being read, the psionic pattern constructing the activation program would be corrupted, it would fail to build a functional magic program, and the magic would fizzle.

And that was exactly what happened.

“Stop this at once! Attacking another person with magic outside of self-defensive purposes is not only against school rules but a criminal act!”

The activation program being expanded by the female student’s CAD had been blown apart by a psionic bullet.

Forming psions themselves into bullets and firing them was the simplest form of magic, but the delicate precision and controlled output of destroying only the activation program and not causing any damage to the caster herself spoke volumes of the shooter’s skill.

Recognizing the voice’s owner, the female student trying to attack Erika and the others went pale with shock—and it wasn’t because of the magic. She staggered as another female student held her up from behind.

The one who had delivered the warning and used a psionic bullet to stop the magic from executing had been the student council president, Mayumi Saegusa.

Her expression, which was normally a smile—as far as Tatsuya knew—was still not very strict, even in this situation.

But the eyes of those who used magic saw the light of energized psions, and it was obviously far larger in scale than the light given off by average magicians. It wrapped around her small body like a nimbus, giving her a sort of impenetrable majesty.

“You’re all from 1-A and 1-E, right? I’ll listen to what you have to say. Come with me.”

The one who gave the order in a cold—well, it had to be—and hard voice was the female student standing next to Mayumi. According to the student introductions during the entrance ceremony, she was the head of the disciplinary committee, a senior named Mari Watanabe.

Mari’s CAD has already finished expanding an activation program. It was easy to imagine that if they showed any signs of resistance, she would use force instantly.

Leo, Mizuki, and Miyuki’s classmates all stiffened without a word. It wasn’t that they couldn’t move out of rebelliousness, but that they had been overawed by her. Leaving his classmates aside…

…without puffing out his chest with pride or arrogance…

…without hanging his head in dejection or atrophy…

…Tatsuya walked before Mari with a composed gait, with Miyuki gracefully following behind him.

Mari gave a quizzical look at the freshmen who had suddenly appeared. Tatsuya and Miyuki hadn’t appeared to her to be part of all this. Tatsuya, unperturbed, returned her gaze and gave a slight but polite bow.

“I’m sorry. We let our horseplay go too far.”

“Horseplay?” Mari’s eyebrows pulled into a frown at the statement, which seemed abrupt.

“Yes. The Morisaki family is famous for its quick-drawing, so I wanted him to show us for future reference, but it was so lifelike and real that we accidentally reacted.”

The male student who had aimed his CAD at Leo—his eyes were widened in astonishment.

As the other freshmen looked on, speechless now for a different reason, Mari glanced between the baton in Erika’s hand and the gun-shaped device that had fallen to the ground. She turned her gaze on the boy and girl who had attempted to use their CADs in an illegal way, and after seeing them start to tremble, she shot a cold smile at Tatsuya.

“Then after that, why did the girl from 1-A execute an attack magic?”

“She was probably surprised. She’s able to execute the activation process out of pure conditioned reflex—that’s a Course 1 student for you.” His expression was totally serious, but his voice was completely transparent.

“Your friends were about to be attacked by magic. Are you still going to claim this was just horseplay?”

“You say attack, but all she was actually planning to activate was a bright magic flash to distract us. And it wasn’t high-enough level to cause blindness or impair our eyesight permanently, anyway.”

Everyone gasped again.

Her scornful smile turned into an expression of astonishment. “Impressive… You seem to be able to read and understand expanded activation programs.”

Activation programs were vast clumps of data for constructing magic programs.

Magicians could intuitively understand what sort of effects a magic program possessed.

During the process where a magic program interferes with eidos, a magician could “read” what sort of alteration the magic program was trying to achieve by the reaction given from the eidos, which resisted the alteration.

But the activation program was nothing more than a cluster of data on its own. And it was an immense amount of data, too. Even the magician who expanded it would only be able to semiautomatically process it unconsciously.

Reading an activation program was like being able to visualize an image in your head by looking only at the digits making up the image’s data. Normally you couldn’t understand such a thing consciously.

“My practical abilities are subpar, but analysis is a specialty of mine.”

But Tatsuya summed up the abnormal ability as simply analysis, as if it didn’t mean anything.

“…And deception is apparently another.”

Mari’s stare was somewhere between an appraisal and a glare.

Only Miyuki stepped in front of her brother, as if to shield him from taking the brunt of it. “As my brother said, this was really just a minor misunderstanding. We deeply apologize for getting our upperclassmen involved.”

Without a scrap of artifice, she bowed deeply directly to Mari who, taken aback, averted her eyes.

“Mari, isn’t that enough? Tatsuya, this was really just a practical observation, right?”

Since when are we on a first-name basis? thought Tatsuya, but he couldn’t let the lifeboat Mayumi offered him go unused.

As before, he nodded his head in all earnestness, and Mayumi gave a somehow proud smile—almost as if to say You owe me one.

“It certainly isn’t against the rules for students to teach one another, but there are detailed restrictions on even executing magic. This is something taught in class during the first semester. I believe it would be best for now to refrain from any self-study that involves activating magic.”

Her serious expression returned as she conferred her directive. Then Mari, as well, delivered her judgment, using carefully chosen words.

“…The president has spoken, so I won’t question you this time. Make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Without sparing a glance at the group of students, who were bitter enemies but all hastily straightening up and bowing to her together, Mari turned on her heel.

But she had taken only one step before she stopped and asked a question, her back still to them.

“What is your name?”

Only her head was facing him, and her eyes were thin slits, their edges reflecting Tatsuya in them.

“Tatsuya Shiba, from Class 1-E.”

“I’ll remember it.”

He was about to say Fine by me out of reflex, but he caught himself and stopped himself from sighing.

“…I don’t consider this a debt, you know.”

After watching the officials disappear into the school building, the first person who made a violent move—in other words, the male student from Class 1-A, whom Tatsuya had ended up covering for—shot him a thorny stare, and with an equally thorny tone of voice, said that to Tatsuya.

Tatsuya sighed and looked behind him. All of his friends were making the same face, too. Relieved that their uselessly excitable personalities weren’t here, at least, he returned the thorny 1-A student’s gaze.

“Don’t worry. I don’t believe I gave you anything anyway. It wasn’t my words that decided this, but Miyuki’s good faith.”

“Tatsuya may be good at talking people down, but he’s not so good at persuading people,” remarked Miyuki.

“You’re not wrong.” He returned her feigned stare of criticism with a dry smile.

“…My name is Shun Morisaki. As you deduced, I’m part of the main Morisaki family.”

The hostility in his face thinned a bit, his spirit perhaps dampened at the siblings’ heartwarming—depending on how you looked at it—exchange.

“Well, it wasn’t anything so grandiose as a deduction. I’ve just seen an example video of it before.”

“Oh, come to think of it, I might have seen that, too,” remarked Erika.

“And you just didn’t remember it until now? You really are different from Tatsuya,” said Leo.

“Don’t sound so self-important. You’re such an idiot that you tried to grab a broom with your bare hands! Your head is what’s different!”

“What was that? Why do you keep calling me an idiot?”

“Umm… It really was dangerous. Activation programs made by the psions of other magicians could cause rejection in your magic calculation region…” mentioned Miyuki.

“There, see? Understand now?” agreed Erika.

“But you too, Erika. Even if you didn’t directly touch it with your hands, it could still interfere with you.”

“I’m fine! This thing’s shielded.”

His friends’ conversation behind him had begun to take on meaning, but Tatsuya remained where he was, eyes locked with Morisaki.

“I won’t accept you, Tatsuya Shiba. Your sister should be with us.”

With a parting threat, he turned his back without waiting for a reply. Parting threats didn’t need responses in the first place—since they were parting threats—but they did require the other person to hear them.

“Using my full name like that already, I see,” he said, almost as though he were talking to himself, but purposely murmuring loud enough for him to hear. Morisaki, turned away, gave a start. A certain kind of stubbornness was probably what allowed him to keep going and leave without stopping.

Next to him, Miyuki looked bewildered when she heard Tatsuya allow his muttering to be overheard. She was always fretting over this—for someone with such an introspective personality, he had a self-destructive recklessness. He wouldn’t hesitate to make enemies, and it was a big flaw in his character. Of course, she was more disconcerted about Morisaki’s mistaken impression.

“Tatsuya, shouldn’t we go home soon?”

“You’re right. Leo, Chiba, Shibata, let’s get going.”

In any case, the two of them shared their feeling of mental exhaustion, nodded to each other, and decided to leave.

The girl from 1-A who was about to make the situation worse was standing in their way, but he honestly didn’t want to get any more involved with her today. He exchanged looks with Miyuki and went to pass her by. Miyuki, trying to guess Tatsuya’s feelings, was about to say See you tomorrow when the girl opened her mouth first.

“I’m Honoka Mitsui. I apologize for being rude earlier.”

She suddenly bowed to Tatsuya, and frankly, he was taken aback. Until now, her attitude hadn’t been able to fully conceal her sense of being an elite—and that was an understatement—but now it had flip-flopped.

“Thank you for covering for me. Morisaki may have said that, but it’s because of you, sir, that it didn’t escalate.”

“…You’re welcome. But don’t call me ‘sir.’ We’re still both freshmen.”

“I understand. Then what should I call you…?”

Her eyes looked like she was bent on this.

I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me, he thought, but being careful not to let any irritation into his voice, he answered, “Just Tatsuya is fine.”

“…I understand. And, well…” she replied.

“…What is it?” he asked.

As the result of a quick eye contact, Miyuki placed herself in front of Honoka.

“…May I come with you to the station?”

Timidly, and yet with a certain determination in her face, Honoka had requested to go with them.

Erika and Mizuki exchanged glances—the look on her face was more surprising than her words. Though neither they nor Leo, nor Tatsuya nor Miyuki, of course, had any reason to refuse her, and no grounds to do so anyway.

The situation on the way back to the station was complicated.

They were the four members from 1-E—Tatsuya, Mizuki, Erika, and Leo—and those from 1-A—Miyuki, Honoka, and the female student who had caught Honoka when she nearly fell over at Mayumi’s appearance, a girl named Shizuku Kitayama.

Next to Tatsuya was Miyuki, and Honoka had taken up her position on the other side of him for some reason.

“…Then Tatsuya does the tuning on your assistant, Miyuki?”

“Yes. Letting my brother do it gives me the most peace of mind,” answered Miyuki proudly, as if it applied to her, in response to Honoka’s question.

“I just tweak it a bit, though. Miyuki has high throughput, so it’s not hard to do maintenance on her CAD.”

“But still, you can’t do that without knowing all about the device’s OS.” Mizuki poked her face out from beside Miyuki and entered the conversation. Tatsuya’s rather forced smile didn’t seem to have much effect.

“You also need the skill to access the CAD’s basic systems. That’s really something,” remarked Leo.

“Tatsuya, maybe you could take a look at my broom, too?” piped in Erika.

He turned around to the two of them.

Erika had switched from calling him “Shiba” to calling him “Tatsuya,” declaring unilaterally that if he let Mitsui do that, she could, too. And as a truly generous bargaining point, she said that in exchange, he could just call her Erika. Of course, Mizuki requested the same deal, so it had already become an established fact.

“No way. I’m not confident enough to mess around with such a unique CAD.”

“Aha! You really are amazing, Tatsuya.”

It was difficult to know whether Tatsuya’s reply was serious or it was just him being modest, but Erika responded with unadulterated praise.

“What?”

“You knew that this was a broom.”

Erika smiled brightly and spun the strap of the baton with the extending hilt around her finger at Tatsuya’s question. But there was a glint of something other than a simple smile in her eyes.

“Huh? That baton is a device?”

As if that had been what she’d actually been wanting, Erika nodded twice when she saw Mizuki’s eyes grow wide. “Thanks for the normal reaction, Mizuki. If everyone had figured it out, I don’t know what I would have done!”

Leo asked, even more puzzled than before after hearing this exchange. He asked, “…Where is the system in that, anyway? From how it felt before, it’s not completely hollow, right?”

“Bzzt. Everything but the handle is totally hollow. It makes seal techniques more powerful. Hardening magic is your specialty, isn’t it?”

“…Converting spells into geometric patterns, carving them into a sensitive alloy, and injecting psions into it to activate it—those seals? Doesn’t using stuff like that take a ton more psions than normal? It’s a wonder you don’t run out of gas. And besides, I thought seal magic was too energy-inefficient and wasn’t used much anymore,” pointed out Leo.

Erika opened her eyes a bit wider, her face displaying half surprise and half admiration. “Oh, look at you, such a specialist. But unfortunately, there’s one more step. The only moments strength is needed are at the very beginning and when you fire. If you channel the psions precisely at those moments, it doesn’t drain that much. It’s the same principle as helm splitting… Hey, what’s wrong, you guys?” asked Erika uncomfortably, stricken with a blend of admiration both good and bad.

“Erika… Don’t people refer to helm splitting as an almost superhuman technique? It’s far more amazing than just having a lot of psions,” Miyuki answered for everyone.

Despite her casual remark, Erika’s face stiffened up—she actually seemed as if she was getting flustered.

“Tatsuya and Miyuki are both amazing, but I guess Erika is amazing too… I wonder if normal people are the rarity at our school?” remarked Miyuki spontaneously.

“I don’t think there are any normal people at Magic High School,” returned Shizuku Kitayama—who had been silent up until now—absentmindedly, but she was right on the mark. With that, the meaningful basis of their conversation disappeared without a trace.