Chapter 5

Magic High School had many unique aspects, but its fundamental system didn’t differ from normal schools.

There were club activities here at First High as well.

In order to be recognized by the school as an official club, you needed to have a certain number of members and achievements—this point was the same, too.

But for Magic High School, there were many clubs closely related to magic.

The nine high schools affiliated with the National Magic University would face off against one another in a certain major magical competition, and their results tended to reflect upon the images of each school. In terms of how much the school put into it, it might have been more than how much elite sports schools support traditional national sports. Clubs that achieved excellence during this battle, called the Nine School Competition, would gain many amenities, ranging from the club’s budget going up to each individual member’s standing within the school improving.

The contest to acquire promising new members was an important event, since it had a direct effect on a club’s influence. The school not only recognized it but even seemed to actively encourage it.

Thus, the great struggle of all the clubs scrambling to gain new members reached its fiercest point at this time of year.

“…That all means clubs cause no end of trouble around this time.”

The place: the student council room.

Tatsuya listened to Mari’s explanation as he savored the taste of the bento Miyuki had made for him.

“Sometimes their solicitations are so extreme that it can obstruct classes. There is a specific time set up for these new student recruitment wars. It begins today and lasts for one week.”

Those were the words of Mayumi, sitting next to Mari.

Miyuki was sitting next to Tatsuya, like always.

Suzune and Azusa were absent. They had been here yesterday because Mayumi had summoned them. Apparently, they normally ate lunch with their classmates.

In addition, Mari had brought a homemade bento again. Mayumi had been pretty grumpy being the only one eating a mechanically prepared meal from the dining server, but her mood finally seemed to have improved. She had declared that starting tomorrow, she’d make her own bento, too.

“During this time, the clubs are all going to put up invitation tents. It’s not just your tiny, rural festival atmosphere. They’ll all be scrambling to get their hands on anyone sneaking around who scored highly on the entrance exams, as well as the new students who have achievements in sports and things like that. Of course, there are rules—outwardly, anyway—and clubs that break them will be penalized by the club committee, but unfortunately it’s not unusual for things to come to blows or even firefights in the shadows.”

Tatsuya made a doubtful expression at what she said. “I thought we didn’t permit students to carry around CADs.”

You could still use magic without a CAD. But for things to evolve into anything as extreme as a firefight, you would basically need to use one.

Mari’s answer baffled him.

“They have permission to use them for demonstrations for the new students. There are inspections here and there, but it’s essentially a free pass. So during this time of year, the school ends up turning into a wild, lawless zone.”

Well, yeah, of course it does, he thought reflexively. Why would the school just let something like that slide…? Normally, they’d take measures to prevent it, like making inspections stricter.

His next question was answered by Mayumi before he asked it.

“Even the school wants to win trophies at the Nine School Competition. That might be why they tolerate all the rules violations—to get more students into the clubs.”

Compulsory participation in extracurricular activities had been banned by the competent ministry a few decades ago as a violation of the students’ human rights. But the streets were brimming with students scouted for club activities, and realistically they overlooked sports scouting, using academic freedom of choice as a front for both, making it a self-contradictory and meaningless ban. But although it was just a front, it was effective enough that you couldn’t just ignore it outright.

“Anyway, that’s why the disciplinary committee will be on full alert for one week, starting today. Boy, am I glad we got a replacement member in time,” she said, glancing to the side, probably sarcastically.

“Good for you for finding someone good, Mari!” Mayumi replied, warding the sarcasm off with a smile. Neither of them twitched an eyebrow—this sort of exchange must have been an everyday occurrence, all year round.

Tatsuya swallowed the last bite of his food, then put his chopsticks down. His teacup was filled back up from next to him. He took a sip of it and offered a measly resistance.

“Won’t the clubs be targeting people with the best grades—so Course 1 students? I don’t think I’ll be very much help.”

Mari had already declared her public stance that Course 2 students should be in control of other Course 2 students, so this statement was sabotage in disguise. But…

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got plenty of firepower to bring to the table.”

…it was wholly dismissed.

Having been cut down from the front like that, there was nothing else to be said.

“…I see. Okay. We’re patrolling after school, right?”

“Once your classes end, come to the HQ.”

“All right,” accepted Tatsuya obediently. It was an odd reaction, somewhere between being sportsmanlike and being too quick to give up.

Next to him, Miyuki looked to Mayumi for instruction. “President… Will we be included in keeping things in order?”

We meant the student council officers. Tatsuya felt content seeing that his sister, who was always a little moody in her interpersonal relationships despite being sociable on the surface, had already blended into the student council.

“I’ll have Ah-chan help out the patrols. Hanzou and I need to be waiting in the club association room in case anything happens, so I want you and Rin to mind this place while we’re gone.”

“Understood,” nodded Miyuki faithfully, but Tatsuya could tell she was a little disappointed. He hadn’t thought she was the type that liked battle, but ability-wise there was no problem. Maybe she wanted to try out the new restraint-family techniques he’d inserted on her CAD.

Tatsuya, while misunderstanding that if he asked her she might cry out No! and then say something under her breath like …Tatsuya, you’re stupid, asked the question that immediately came to mind.

“Nakajou is going to be patrolling?”

The hidden emphasis was that Azusa wouldn’t be reliable. It was another statement in disguise like before, but this time it was addressed, perhaps because someone else had done it.

“I can understand you being nervous about it because of how she looks. But you mustn’t judge a book by its cover, Tatsuya.”

“I understand that, but…” Tatsuya had actually been concerned about Azusa’s timid personality. She must have immediately understood that vague part he’d tried to say. Mayumi, smiling, shook her head.

“She’s a little—well, maybe a lot? Anyway, she’s weak spirited, and that’s the fly in the ointment, so to say. But Ah-chan’s magic comes in really handy at times like these.”

Mari made the same sort of dry smile. “You got that right. If we’re talking about how good she is in situations where there’s a huge uproar we can’t settle down, there’s no better magic than her Azusa Bow.”

Modern magic was a technology—most magic had been formalized and shared. Of course, there were secret techniques as well, but the greater portion of magic was public and recorded in databases. Those spells were normally classified by family and effect, but highly original techniques were given their own names.

“Azusa Bow…? That’s not an official nickname, is it? Is that outer magic?”

However, as far as Tatsuya knew, there was no public magic called Azusa Bow.

Many spells that weren’t public were not of a family. Was it outer magic?

That had been what Tatsuya asked, but…

“…Are you saying you know literally every magic nickname?”

Instead of answering his question, Mari asked one in return, her voice astonished.

“…Tatsuya, are you actually linked up to a huge database from a satellite or something?”

Mayumi’s eyes were wide, and she meant it.

Miyuki felt the urge to burst out into laughter at the responses of her upperclassmen, but this wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed this kind of scene. She didn’t have to try very hard to retain a modest expression.

In modern magic, which had its start as research into supernatural abilities, the phenomenon of magic was not analyzed and classified based on its outward appearance, such as “making fire” or “shooting wind,” but rather by its function.

It was split into four families, each of which had two types:

Of course, exceptions exist to any system of classification, and there was magic that wasn’t classifiable even in the four-family / eight-type schema of modern magic.

Magic that didn’t belong to any of the four families were broadly separated into three categories.

The first was perception-type magic, which had been called ESP. (ESP, in this case, didn’t refer to supernatural abilities as a whole but rather to the perception type.)

The second was magic that didn’t alter events by temporarily overwriting the eidos, the information bodies accompanying those events—but rather magic with the objective of controlling the psions themselves. This was called typeless magic. Mayumi’s specialty, firing clumps of psions, was the model example of typeless magic. The magic Tatsuya had used to knock Hattori out hadn’t strictly been vibration family magic but typeless magic. However, there were spells in the form of psion manipulation that fell into one of the four families and eight types. The distinction between magic from one of the four families and typeless magic wasn’t very sharp.

And the last was magic that dealt not with physical events but with mental phenomena. This was called outer magic. Outer magic was magic that wasn’t part of any of the four families—it couldn’t be classified as one. It spanned many things, from divine magic and spirit magic, which used spiritual things, to mind reading, ethereal separation, and consciousness control.

As if satisfied he’d shown normal surprise, Mayumi finally began to detail the Azusa Bow. “Like you guessed, Ah-chan’s Azusa Bow is outer magic, of the emotional interference type. It has the effect of guiding all people in a specific area into a trancelike state.”

Emotional interference–type magic was a subset of mental interference magic. Instead of affecting a person’s thoughts or consciousness, it affected their impulses and emotions.

“The Azusa Bow doesn’t make them fall unconscious, and it doesn’t hijack their minds. It only causes them to fall into a state in which they can’t oppose her. But it works on an entire area instead of just one person. So unlike most other mental interference–type spells, it can affect multiple people simultaneously. It’s just the right magic to bring along for pacifying excited crowds!”

Tatsuya furrowed his brow upon hearing her supplementary explanation. “…Doesn’t that sort of magic have class 1 restrictions on it…?”

The usage of outer magic was controlled more strictly than magic from the four families due to its oft-unique characteristics. Among them, the usage conditions for mental interference–type magic were particularly harsh.

Even just limited to the explanations given here, this magic could be used as a terrifying brainwashing tool. That was because people placed into a trance were much more open to suggestion.

If the existence of this magic was known, then the stream of dictatorial governments, terrorists, and cult leaders trying to use it would be endless.

When Tatsuya pointed that out, Mayumi smiled and told him not to worry.

“Can you really imagine Ah-chan being a dictator?”

“She could always be forced into cooperating.”

“That’s even less likely. She’d get all teary eyed just from picking up a few coins on the road. With her mental state, she’d be crushed by feelings of guilt, and then she wouldn’t be able to use magic at all, right?”

The established theory—almost common sense at this point—was that magic was influenced by one’s mental state.

If she had such a virtuous character, then just being aware that she was involved in the heavy crime of mass brainwashing could cause her to become unable to use magic.

Of course, if she was extremely timid, then one could always make her depend on them and then use her, but there was no need to pursue this train of thought any further.

There was a more general issue at hand.

“I believe the laws restricting mental interference–type magic apply no matter how good Nakajou’s character may be…”

It was pointed out by Miyuki, and Mayumi struggled to find words.

“…Umm, that’s okay, Miyuki. We don’t let her use it outside school.”

Her answer in desperation was incoherent.

She didn’t seem the type to be weak when driven into a corner, but if Mari hadn’t assisted her here, then she might have ended up in a pretty bad state.

“Mayumi… The way you say it will give them a considerable misunderstanding. Nakajou has special permission to use outer magic only if she’s at school. It’s a little trick—a loophole in the usage restrictions being looser for research organizations.”

“I see.”

“So there is that sort of method.”

“Yes, that’s right…”

Mayumi faked a smile at the Shiba siblings’ nodding, convinced, at Mari’s follow-up.

Afternoon classes ended, and though he was reluctant, Tatsuya was about to head for the disciplinary committee room when a high-key voice stopped him.

He turned around to see the slender girl with short hair that wasn’t too short. The term sharp might have been better than slender to describe her.

“Erika… That’s unusual. Are you by yourself?”

“Is it? In my opinion, I’m not really the type to make many plans with people.”

Now that she mentions it, she has a point, thought Tatsuya.

“Anyway, Tatsuya, what are you doing for a club? Mizuki already decided to join the art club. She invited me to do it with her, but I’m not really the artsy type. I’m just gonna wander around and see if there’s anything interesting.”

“Leo said he already decided, too, right?”

“Yeah, the mountaineering club. It suits him so well that it hurts.”

“Well… It certainly does suit him.”

“Our mountaineering club is apparently more keen on survival skills than mountain climbing. There’s, like, nowhere else he could even be,” Erika said under her breath in cursing, then gave a vaguely uninterested look. “Tatsuya, if you haven’t decided on a club yet, want to come with me?”

If she’d said that to him, he would have gotten angry and denied her, but she had a slightly lonesome look on her face, and he couldn’t refuse her.

“Actually, the disciplinary committee is putting me straight to work. We’d both be wandering around the place, but I’d have to be on patrol at the same time. If that’s okay with you, then I’ll come.”

“Hmm. Well, all right, then. I guess we’ll meet in front of the classroom.”

Erika feigned self-importance as she thought about Tatsuya’s invitation, then gestured reluctantly and answered.

Her smile, though, betrayed her act.

“Why are you here?!”

That was the first thing Tatsuya heard at the beginning of his second encounter.

“Well, say whatever you like, but it’s absurd.”

Tatsuya’s attitude, with his astounded voice and sigh, only invited yet more excitement.

“What was that?!”

This time, he looked like he might come over and grab him, rather than just sounding like it.

But…

“Quiet down, newbie!”

Roared at by Mari, Shun Morisaki hurriedly shut his mouth and straightened up even further.

“This is a business meeting of the disciplinary committee. Nobody present here is not of the disciplinary committee. Please, have at least a tiny bit of common sense to know that.”

“I am sorry!”

Morisaki’s face was pathetically drawn back with nervousness and fear.

Mari had only dragged him into this the day before yesterday. And even if that hadn’t been the case, being reprimanded by someone with the same authority as the student council president or club association chairman was a lot of responsibility for a new student. Especially for those who were too serious about it.

“Fine, just sit down.”

Before the Course 1 student who was standing there, all the blood drained from his face, Mari ordered him to take his seat with an awkward expression.

When Tatsuya matched this with what he’d seen of her behavior from yesterday, she seemed to have the exact opposite personality of someone who took pleasure in abusing those with a lower rank than she had.

Morisaki took his seat across from Tatsuya. Neither of them wanted to be in this position, but they were the freshmen here. They were on the lowest rung. Having to stare at each other at the lowest seats on the table was unavoidable.

“Everyone’s here, right?”

After that, the two seniors came in one after another, and when there were nine people in the room, Mari stood up.

“Just sit there and listen. This year’s noisy week is right around the corner. This will be the disciplinary committee’s first climax of the new year. There are those who got carried away and caused a huge problem last year—as well as those who so kindly made it worse for us by trying to calm it down—but this year, I want us all to put in our best efforts so that we don’t have to deal with any problem children. I don’t want any officers taking the initiative and causing issues, got it?”

After seeing more than one person wince, Tatsuya, who knew all too well he had a problem with getting into trouble, cautioned himself not to go down the same path.

“Thankfully, this year, our graduate replacements made it on time. I’ll introduce them. Please stand.”

They hadn’t been warned in the briefing about this part, but they both promptly stood up, without difficulty or confusion.

Though there was a distinct difference in enthusiasm in their expressions.

Morisaki was standing at attention, without hiding, or even trying to hide, his nervousness, and instead that made him look enthusiastic. Tatsuya had the air of someone who wasn’t quite taking this seriously enough, despite his calm countenance.

People who considered superiority important probably would prefer Morisaki’s attitude, and for those who thought real strength was the most important, Tatsuya probably looked more reliable.

“This is Shun Morisaki from 1-A and Tatsuya Shiba from 1-E. They’ll be joining us on patrol starting today.”

A stir arose, and it was probably because of them hearing the class Tatsuya was from. He didn’t hear the word Weed whispered, however—as expected from the headquarters of those who prevented the use of such slurs.

“Are we partnering up?”

It may not have been to deflect the issue, but a sophomore named Okada raised his hand and said that. He was one of the ones elected by the teachers.

“As I explained last time, for the week of the recruitment wars, you’ll each be patrolling by yourself. The newbies are no exception to that.”

“Will they help?”

Okada’s question had been directed toward both Tatsuya and Morisaki for form’s sake, but his gazing at Tatsuya’s left breast spoke to what he really meant.

He had predicted this response, so he gave Mari a look that delegated it to her.

But he hadn’t needed to delegate it. Mari gave Okada a bored, peeved look.

“Yeah, don’t worry. They’re both reliable. I’ve seen Shiba’s skills with my own eyes, and Morisaki’s device handling is nothing to make light of. He just went up against the wrong opponent the other day. If you’re still concerned, then you can go with Morisaki.”

Okada looked a little embarrassed at the casual reply, but he managed to keep his calm and reply with an “I’ll pass” in a sarcastic tone.

“Anybody else have anything to say?”

Tatsuya was considerably surprised—Mari’s voice certainly hadn’t sounded gentle. In fact, it sounded like she was asking for a fight. Other than Morisaki and him, though, nobody seemed to be paying it any mind.

It must have been a frequent occurrence. It seemed there was some deep-rooted antagonism in the committee.

Tatsuya wondered, though, about the leader taking it upon herself to fan those flames.

“Let’s move to the final briefing. Your patrol routes will be the same as the ones you’ve been briefed on before now. I don’t expect there will be anyone opposed to it at this point.”

The atmosphere didn’t quite feel like there were no objections, but there was no one who assertively tried to argue.

“All right. Get to your routes immediately. Don’t forget your recorders. I’ll explain things to Shiba and Morisaki. Everyone else, move out!”

All present stood at once, put their feet together, and hit their left breasts with their right fists.

Tatsuya wondered what they were doing, but according to what he heard later, this was the salute adopted by all the disciplinary committee members of the past. In addition, there was apparently a rule for saying Good morning to her no matter what time of day it was.

The six people, excluding Mari, Tatsuya, and Morisaki, each went to leave the room, one after another. The fifth and sixth, Koutarou and Sawaki, told Tatsuya “not to get too far ahead of himself” and to “ask me if there’s anything you’re not sure about” (who said which is obvious), then left the room themselves.

He politely (at least, outwardly speaking) saw the two of them off. Morisaki glared at him bitterly.

Mari, watching them, somehow staved off a headache and a sigh, then addressed them.

“First, I’ll give you these.”

Mari gave them each, as they lined up side to side, an armband and a thin video recorder.

“Put the recorder in your jacket pocket. It’s made to be just big enough so the lens sticks out. The switch is on the right side.”

As she said, when he placed it in the chest pocket on his blazer, it was big enough to record something just like that.

“From here on, make sure to take your recorder with you whenever you go on patrol. If you spot any disorderly conduct, turn it on immediately. But you don’t need to worry about the recording. As a general rule, the words of disciplinary committee officers are taken as proof. Just think of it more as a precaution.”

She awaited their response, then directed them to take out their portable terminals.

“I’ll send you the transmission code for the disciplinary committee… All right, check to make sure you have it.”

The two of them reported that they had received it just fine.

“Make sure to use this code when you want to report something. And whenever we need to give you instructions, we’ll use this code, so make sure it checks out.

“Lastly, about CADs. Disciplinary committee officers are permitted to carry CADs on school grounds. There’s no need for you to get someone’s permission to use them. But if it’s discovered you used it improperly, you’ll be given a much stricter punishment than normal students because you’re a member of the disciplinary committee. There was someone who got expelled because of it the year before last, too. Don’t make light of it.”

“I have a question.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“May we use the disciplinary committee’s CADs?”

Tatsuya’s question must have been pretty unexpected, because there was a short pause before she gave a reply.

“…I don’t mind, but what’s your reason? I may be preaching to the choir here, but those are older models, you know.”

Mari had guessed by his handling of them before and after the match yesterday, as well as him maintaining the room, that he was fairly skilled when it came to CADs.

And she also knew because of Azusa’s spiel that his own CAD was a high-spec variety.

And yet he was telling her that he wanted to use old ones instead.

She couldn’t suppress her curiosity.

“They may be old models, but they’re still high-end items made for experts,” he answered with a wry grin. Sure enough, she hadn’t even thought about that.

“…Are they?”

“Yes. That series is infamous for being a pain to adjust, but they have a high freedom of setting, and the sensitivity of their noncontact switches is superior. There are people who are wildly enthusiastic about maintaining them. Whoever purchased them must have been a big fan. If you ignore the fact that it makes the battery life shorter, you can overclock them so that their processing speed is on par with the newest models. If you brought it to the right place, they would fetch a fairly high price.”

“…And we were treating them like garbage, is that it? Now I see why you were being so insistent on cleaning them up.”

“I feel like Nakajou would know about that model series as well…”

“Nakajou is too scared to come down here.”

“Ha-ha…”

The two of them exchanged wry grins.

Then Mari finally realized that Morisaki was being left out.

“Ahem. You can use them freely if you wish. They’ve been doing nothing but collecting dust, after all.”

“Then…I’ll borrow these two.”

“Two…? You really are interesting.”

Tatsuya picked up the two CADs he’d quietly copied his adjustment data onto yesterday. Mari saw him and grinned, and Morisaki’s lips curled into an expression of distaste.

“Hey.”

Right after Mari left them to go to the club association room, Morisaki called out to Tatsuya from behind. Tatsuya could tell by his tone he didn’t want to say anything friendly. He thought more than half seriously about outright ignoring him, but he figured that would make his problems worse, so he reluctantly turned around.

“What?” he responded insolently, his hostility on full display—there was no reason to come off as friendly right now.

“Looks like bluffing is your specialty. Did you bluff your way past the president and chairwoman like that?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Wha…?”

If that’s all it takes to get you distracted, then don’t start stuff like this in the first place, thought Tatsuya. On the other hand, Morisaki’s honesty was enviable.

“…But you went too far this time. There’s no way a Course 2 kid like you could ever use more than one CAD.”

He listened to Morisaki speak. Morisaki hadn’t called him a Weed, but Tatsuya cynically thought that was probably only because he knew Tatsuya was on the disciplinary committee. Morisaki didn’t notice Tatsuya’s apathetic expression, however, and continued to lecture proudly, as if intoxicated by his own words.

“If you equip a CAD in both hands, you won’t be able to use either because of the psionic interference. You were trying to look cool, but you didn’t even know that simple thing, did you? You can’t even use real magic anyway. You just sneak around so that you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Was that supposed to be advice? You’ve got a lot of free time, Morisaki.”

“Hah! I’m different from all of you. You may have taken me by surprise the other day, but I won’t screw up again. I’ll show you the difference between you and us.”

As Tatsuya watched him leave after saying that, he thought about how nice it must be to believe that there would be a next time…

Despite having made plans with Tatsuya, Erika wasn’t outside the classroom.

I don’t particularly mind, but…

Tatsuya heaved another sigh—which had already become a habit since school started—and booted up the LPS on his portable terminal.

It displayed a map of the school grounds and a red blip moving slowly through it.

It meant that she had the consideration not to shut the power down on her terminal.

She hadn’t gone very far yet.

I had this set up just in case something happened, but…

She was counting on him to come looking for her.

He zoomed in on the display, specified her position, then began to walk toward the signal being emitted by Erika’s terminal.

The cluster of tents, which looked from the window like they were burying the entire schoolyard, and even the roads in between school buildings, looked just like stalls at a fair.

“Just like a festival…” murmured Erika to herself. Upon realizing she had, she was almost overcome with the urge to grin at herself.

She’d always been alone more frequently than not.

But ever since school here started, that tendency had vanished.

Being by myself is unusual, huh… You don’t actually have a very good eye for girls, do you, Tatsuya? she said in her mind’s eye to the boy that she—not he—had stood up.

In junior high school, and even during elementary school, being alone was the status quo for her.

It wasn’t because she didn’t like people or anything. She was a relatively sociable person—she could get along with anyone pretty quickly.

But in exchange, they would soon find themselves neglected.

She wasn’t able to be with someone around the clock and go with them everywhere.

She had analyzed herself, saying that she had a weak attachment to personal relationships.

Friends she had been relatively close to said they were disillusioned.

They said she was like a fickle cat.

One friend she broke up with even called her arrogant and haughty.

The stream of boys following her about never ended, but none stayed for very long, either.

Free, unrestrained, unfettered by promises—that was her motto.

…Well, it was, anyway… Maybe I’ve been acting kind of strange lately.

Looking at it objectively, she felt that lately, she’d been hanging around him quite a bit.

Just a little while ago, it would have been inconceivable for her to ask him to come with her.

But it was only the first week, she thought, so maybe she’d get tired of him like she always did.

At the same time, it felt different from the way it always did…

“Erika?”

Ten minutes from the agreed-upon time.

As Erika was just exiting the school building to go into the yard, she heard Tatsuya’s voice calling her.

He caught up pretty fast, she thought.

“Tatsuya, you’re late.”

“…Sorry.”

She saw a momentary scowl flash across his face, but he seemed to be immediately convinced by something, and he meekly bowed his head.

“…You’re apologizing?” It was contrary to her expectations, and instead, Erika was the one confused by it.

“It was only ten minutes, but it is past the time I agreed on, after all. Me being late and you not being where we agreed are separate issues, right?”

“Ack… Sorry.”

It was a somewhat strange expression, but he smiled at her, deathly serious, and Erika wasn’t even able to get a retort in.

“…Hey, Tatsuya, do you get told that you have a bad personality?”

“That was unexpected. I’ve never had anyone complain about my personality. I’ve been told I’m bad with people, though.”

“That’s the same thing! It might even be worse!”

“Oh, my mistake. It wasn’t that I’m bad with people; it was that I’m a bad person.”

“And that’s definitely worse!”

“I’ve been called a demon before, too.”

“All right already!”

Before Erika’s ragged breathing, and with the air of pondering a profound philosophical problem, Tatsuya bent his head to the side.

“You seem quite tired. Are you all right?”

“…Tatsuya, you’ve definitely been told you have a bad personality.”

“Actually, I have.”

“Was all that a lie?!”

Erika hung her head dejectedly.

It took a bit to improve her mood, but he managed to do it before he drew any odd stares—and before she drew any observatory glances or jeering stares—and returned to his patrol.

And he wanted to leave within five minutes.

He had no choice but to admit he’d underestimated this business. —Not admit to anyone in particular, though.

In all honesty, he had made light of it, thinking that despite Mari using the term chaos, it was still only high school clubs trying to recruit people. But it was nowhere near that simple.

Now that he’d seen it, he fully understood the need for people to control it. Even ten people or so wouldn’t have been enough for this.

Between the tents filling up the schoolyard, a crowd had formed. Beyond the crowd was a wailing Erika, who could no longer escape. Her demeanor was fairly smart, too, but she couldn’t seem to oppose violence in numbers. …Though Tatsuya himself was acting as though he had promptly slipped away and was watching from afar, so he didn’t quite have room to talk.

Of course, he could hardly say with finality that this outcome meant that Tatsuya was quicker on his feet than Erika. That was because compared to him, Erika was being targeted by overwhelming numbers of people.

Tatsuya was on the taller side for a new student, but he was on the thin side. At a glance, he seemed boring, and his eyes were sharp, but not sharp enough to stand out very much. Add to that the fact that he was a Course 2 student, and not many people had their eyes on him for recruitment.

On the other hand, Erika was pretty enough to stand out quite a bit. And in contrast to beauties like Miyuki, to whom people would hesitate to touch with their hand, let alone make a move on her, Erika was the type where you wanted to reach out for her even though you knew you’d get burned.

The long and short of what happened was…

…that Erika was being swarmed with club recruitment offers.

The fact that she was a Course 2 student presented no obstacle in this case. (Though Erika would say that it wasn’t helping her at all.)

They were most likely looking for a mascot or a billboard character, and the ones waging war over her were mostly nonmagic sports and exercise clubs.

She was at the center, and they were swallowing her up.

Tatsuya couldn’t see what was happening on the inside of the crowd—but they were probably grabbing her shoulders and pulling on her arms, or clinging to her from behind in a scramble for their prey in behavior that, even if they were the same gender, would still be construed as sexual harassment. He could guess that things were reaching a point where he couldn’t let it go once he got an almost bloodthirsty feeling drifting from it.

But Erika was more persevering than he thought. Tatsuya had escaped on his own—abandoning her in the process—because he figured she’d be able to force her way out pretty quickly.

You couldn’t hold Erika down just because you did a little bit of regular physical activity. Tatsuya had no doubts about that. The skill with which she had knocked away Morisaki’s CAD was certainly not something a freshman or sophomore could learn.

The ones directly swarming her were female upperclassmen. He wasn’t surprised that there were no rude male students trying to get their hands all over a girl’s body. Even if they were one or two years older, Erika’s strength would make it simple to break free of girls’ arms and run away—at least, that was what he had predicted. Unfortunately, their being weak girls appeared to be working against her. Erika had decided not to use more violent methods against them.

But just as he was thinking he should probably go and get her out of there, he heard her voice.

“Hey, watch where you’re touching! St-stop…!”

What he heard was, though lacking a bit of seductiveness, definitely Erika’s scream.

It looked like things had gotten too real to be a joke anymore.

Tatsuya manipulated the CAD on his left arm, and as soon as he finished preparing the magic program, he kicked off the ground.

The ground shook—of course, it was far more than the vibrations that could be created by his own kick.

That vibration amplified the magic program he had formulated and gave it a vector.

The vibrations transmitted from the soles of their feet to their bodies wouldn’t be enough to make them pass out. He couldn’t fire such powerful magic with his strength.

But their bodies were shaken from underfoot, and the students forming the crowd lost their sense of equilibrium without even realizing it.

Tatsuya plunged into the throng.

The upperclassmen who he pushed through easily fell onto their backs.

He shoved his way through both boys and girls and reached the center of the crowd without much trouble.

He split through the final wall made up entirely of female students—

found the person he was looking for—

and grabbed hold of her arm.

“Run!”

That was all he said before he pulled Erika’s left hand and dashed away.

Pushing his way—no, slipping like magic—through the crowd, Tatsuya escaped into the shadows of the schoolyard.

He let go of Erika’s hand, which had been connected to his, looked back, and that was when he finally noticed the disastrous situation she was in. Her hair was badly tousled, one of the sides of her blazer was practically coming off, her brand-new uniform was all wrinkled, and she held her completely untied necktie in her right hand.

With the necktie disconnected, the breast of the uniform was exposing her ever so slightly. She must have been holding it down while they were running, but just as she looked down a bit to fix her clothes—that was when Tatsuya’s gaze happened to look that way.

“Don’t look!”

She probably noticed that he’d turned around when her down-turned eyes glimpsed the direction of his feet. Erika spoke immediately, but just before being yelled at, Tatsuya had already averted his face and body.

“…Did you see?” Erika asked, her voice making it easy to imagine how red her face was.

“……” But Tatsuya couldn’t immediately devise an answer for her.

He should probably say he didn’t see anything. That would be the smart way to handle this.

However…

Her chest, ever so slightly tanned and yet still retaining its original paleness.

The distinct lines of her collarbone.

Even the beige color of the lace decorating the edges of her bra had been burned into his memory.

“Did you see?”

The sound of clothes rustling had ceased, so he deduced she was finished fixing herself.

At the same time, the change in her tone of voice told Tatsuya that his moratorium had expired.

Now that it came to this, he should at least let her punch him one time. Even if he bore no fault at all, he needed to show that sincerity—as a man.

—As he had such escapist thoughts (because he couldn’t say he was completely without fault. At the least, he was at fault for leaving her there in the first place) Tatsuya slowly turned around.

Thankfully, there was no voice stopping him. If she still hadn’t finished getting her clothes in order, improving the situation would become hopeless.

He saw Erika, whose collar was buttoned all the way up, and her necktie was tightly around her neck, and secretly felt relieved. Come to think of it, if she’d had it buttoned all the way up to begin with, things might not have ended up so disastrous. Tatsuya thought that having compromised herself by undoing her top button and loosening her necktie had made the damage worse.

But he only thought that—he didn’t say it.

“I saw. I’m sorry.”

There was no way he could say it when faced with the red hue lingering around her eyes.

Erika glared harshly up at him. Her cheeks reddened again, probably because her embarrassment had come back. Her clenched fist was trembling, probably because she was enduring her shame.

“…Stupid!”

Her hand didn’t come flying at him. Instead, he took a hit right to the shin.

Erika kicked him in the leg, then spun around to turn away from him.

She began to briskly walk away. Tatsuya followed her without a word.

He couldn’t see from here, but she was probably tearing up.

His shins were so built that they could withstand an oaken sword hitting them.

Her boots were made of a flexible material, and not even strengthened at the toes, so she doubtlessly hurt herself more. But if he showed any consideration for that, it would only invite further attacks.

He had his hands full just trying to pretend not to notice her unnatural gait.

Although tents filled the schoolyard to capacity, that was just the schoolyard—in the exclusive fields, the clubs that normally used them were putting on demonstrations.

It was the same in the gymnasiums.

When they walked over to the second small gymnasium, nicknamed the arena, they found the kendo club giving a martial arts demonstration.

—Erika’s head had long since cooled down. She’d known from the start that she was just venting. The fact that Tatsuya never said a word to try to excuse himself had produced results. Although he did think it was too soon for her to mumble “It’s so humid” and loosen her necktie and undo her topmost button again in order to battle the heat.

The two of them looked down on the kendo demo from the observation area set up in the hallway three meters up the wall of the small gymnasium.

“Hmm… So there’s a kendo club, even though this is a magic high school,” said Erika casually to herself.

“Doesn’t every school have at least a kendo club?” asked Tatsuya, also casually. Actually, maybe it wasn’t a question so much as an idle statement to keep the conversation going.

But Erika stared at his face fixedly for no short period of time.

“…What?”

“…I’m surprised.”

“At what?”

“That there was something even you didn’t know. And most people experienced in martial arts know, too.”

Tatsuya got a little worried upon hearing Erika’s remark. “Do I really look like a know-it-all?”

“Huh? Um, no, not that. It’s just, you have that kind of air about you, like you know everything.”

“That kind of air? …I’m a freshman like you, Erika. Well, whatever. Anyway, why are kendo clubs unusual?”

“R-Right. We are both freshmen… It feels a little weird to call us alike, though… Umm, so about kendo clubs. Magicians and people who want to be magicians almost never do kendo at the high school level. Instead of kendo, magicians use kenjutsu, which has sword techniques that incorporate spells. There are a lot of kids who practice kendo up until around elementary school to learn the basics, but the kids who decide they want to be a magician during junior high school pretty much all drift over to kenjutsu.”

“Huh, I see… I had thought kendo and kenjutsu were the same thing.”

“I’m really surprised!” said Erika.

“Tatsuya, you look like you have so much skill in martial arts that use weapons, and yet… Oh, I got it!”

“What’s the matter?” This time Tatsuya was surprised—why was she suddenly raising her voice like that?

And Tatsuya wasn’t the only one paying attention to her now that she did that so suddenly, but Erika herself didn’t notice it. She answered his question with a face that said she understood and an expression that said it made sense.

“Tatsuya, you’re thinking that incorporating magic into weapon techniques is just what you’re supposed to do, don’t you? No, maybe it’s not only magic. Fighting spirit, and prana, and stuff like that—you think you’re just supposed to complement physical techniques with them, don’t you?”

“Are you not supposed to? Your muscles aren’t the only thing that moves your body, are they?”

From Tatsuya’s point of view, what Erika had said was abrupt and obvious.

Erika nodded to herself at his reply and response. “It may seem totally natural to you, but…for normal athletes, that’s not how it goes.”

“I see.”

That was an indirect way of saying it, but Tatsuya finally realized that there seemed to be a gap between his knowledge and common sense.

“By the way, maybe we should settle down soon and observe?”

This time it was Tatsuya’s turn to make Erika understand the gap in her awareness.

She followed his meaningful gaze and finally noticed that the volume of her voice was drawing attention to herself.

Erika gave an ingratiating smile and silently looked down at the floor.

The first-stringers’ exhibition match was quite impressive.

Among them, he took particular notice of a sophomore girl’s demonstration.

She wasn’t very big, even for a girl—her build was about the same as Erika’s—but she was fighting evenly with bigger male students twice her size.

She didn’t use power. Instead, she was parrying their strikes with flowing technique.

And it seemed like she still had more energy left.

Tatsuya thought that she was the perfect good-looking sword fighter to use in an exhibition match.

Most of the spectators found their gazes stolen by her skills.

But here, too, there was an exception.

And right next to him, at that.

At the same time the girl delivered a brilliant strike that looked staged and bowed to her opponent…

He heard a dissatisfied snort from beside him.

“You don’t like this very much, do you?”

“Huh? Yeah…”

She didn’t appear to immediately realize she was being asked something, so there was a moment before Erika’s reply came.

“…I mean, look at how boring it is. She knows exactly what her inferior opponent has, and she acts all tough and spaces herself out, and then takes the point, as planned. It’s not a match. It’s just a staged fight.”

“Well, you’re right, but…” Tatsuya naturally began to smile. “It’s to advertise, so isn’t that normal? There are a lot of pro athletes famous for putting on real sword battles, but a seriously real sword battle wouldn’t be something to show to others, right? A real battle between experts is essentially a death match.”

“…You’re pretty calm.”

“Aren’t you just too worked up?”

Erika turned away from him, her face displeased.

But that expression of hers was a sort of show itself.

Erika probably thought of her ostentatious movements and spacing neglected the true art, that it was dishonest—and she was angry about it.

But when Tatsuya pointed it out, she seemed to get even angrier.

She probably wouldn’t ever barge in on them, but she could possibly do something close to it. Tatsuya decided to ward that possibility off and urged Erika to come out with him.

Or rather, he tried to.

Right after they had left the observation zone and approached the entrance to the gymnasium, a stir of a different sort than canvassing came to them from behind.

They couldn’t hear it very well, but they knew people where arguing over something.

He looked beside him, and Erika looked back up at him. Her eyes were brimming with curiosity.

The first one to force their way through the ring of steadily-getting-more-excited people was Erika. Tightly gripping Tatsuya’s sleeve.

Tatsuya, too, approached the center of the clamor, pulled along by Erika.

People frowned at them as they split through the crowd—the power of Erika’s insincere smile was a big reason they didn’t get into a fight over it—and they managed to make it to a spot where they could see what was happening.

They saw a male sword fighter and a female sword fighter confronting each other.

The girl was the one from the duel before—in Erika’s words, the one who was staging the fight. Her body armor was still on, but her helmet was off. She was fairly pretty, with semilong, straight black hair that left an impression. With her skills and her looks, she was probably the perfect person to draw in new members.

“Hmm. Tatsuya, you like people like her?”

“No, I think you’re cuter.”

“…It doesn’t make me happy when you say it monotone like that.”

As she glared at him displeased, the skin around her upturned eyes was tinged with red.

“I’m not used to it.”

“…Geez!” She continued to mumble about something or other, but she didn’t seem to want to take further issue with it, so Tatsuya moved on to the boy.

He wasn’t that big—probably smaller than Tatsuya—but his whole body was lean, like a coiled spring. He was holding a shinai, the bamboo sword used in kendo, but in any case he didn’t have any armor on.

Tatsuya considered grabbing someone nearby and asking them what was going on, but there was no need.

“There’s still more than an hour until the kenjutsu club’s turn, Kirihara! Why can’t you wait that long?”

“I’m surprised, Mibu. You can’t show the greatest strengths of the kendo club to newcomers playing with novices like these. I just thought I’d help you out a bit!”

“You forced your way in here to pick a fight?! I can’t believe you just used the word help. If the disciplinary committee knew about the violence you displayed toward your upperclassman, it wouldn’t just be your problem anymore.”

“Violence? Hey, now, Mibu. People are gonna misunderstand. He was wearing armor and I used a shinai. I just knocked him in the face a bit. Even if he had been a kendo club regular, it’s nothing to get your panties in a bunch over. And he was the one who attacked first, remember?”

“That’s because you provoked him!”

The blades of their words pierced into each other. He’d thought they might not say any more, but each conveniently responded to the other’s questions.

“This is getting interesting,” muttered Erika, half to herself and half not. He could tell from her tone of voice that she was excited. “This fight would be way more interesting than that farce earlier.”

“Do you know those two?”

“Well, I’ve never met them in person,” she answered immediately. She must not have been talking to herself after all. “I just remembered I’ve seen the girl in a match before. Sayaka Mibu. The year before last, she won second place at the national junior high school girl’s kendo tournament. Everyone was calling her stuff like the ‘gorgeous swordswoman’ and the ‘kendo belle.’”

“…But she got second.”

“Well, the champion was… Well, not as photogenic.”

“I see.” Well, that was just how the media worked.

“The boy is Takeaki Kirihara. He was the champion of the Kanto Junior High School kenjutsu tournament two years ago. He got first place for real.”

“Didn’t he go to the nationals?”

“They only have national kenjutsu tournaments starting in high school. There wouldn’t be nearly as many people before that.”

Tatsuya nodded in understanding and agreement.

Kenjutsu was a sport that combined sword techniques with magical ones, so the athletes would need to use magic as a prerequisite.

Although advances in magic studies had brought forth the development of devices to aid in casting magic, only maybe one out of a thousand junior high school students, per grade, would be able to activate magic at a practical level.

And those who could maintain that magical power at a practical level even after maturing would be less than a tenth of that.

Course 2 students were treated as leftovers inside this school, but compared to the overall population, they were elites, too.

“Whoops, looks like they’re starting soon.”

Tatsuya was also feeling that the string of tension was reaching its breaking point.

Preparing for the worst, he got the armband out of his pocket and put it on his left arm. Students nearby looked at him, surprised, and their eyes widened again upon seeing the absence of the school crest on his left breast, but Tatsuya was paying attention only to the two confronting each other.

The female student must have been hesitant to strike at an opponent who wasn’t wearing armor. But as long as they were pointing their words at each other and not stepping down, a clash of swords was unavoidable.

The boy—Kirihara—would probably make the first move.

“Don’t worry about it, Mibu. This is a kendo club demonstration. I’ll do you a favor and not use magic.”

“You think you have a chance with just sword skills? The kenjutsu club uses magic like a cane, but the kendo club has only been polishing its sword skills.”

“Those are some big words, Mibu. Then I’ll let you see it! I’ll show you the kenjutsu techniques that let us compete on another level past physical limitations!”

That was the signal to start.

Kirihara suddenly swung his shinai down at her uncovered head.

The two shinai violently rang against each other.

The yelps from the crowd came two beats later.

The onlookers probably didn’t know what was happening.

They could only imagine how fierce the sword attacks the combatants were exchanging must be from the violent noises of shinai slamming together, which occasionally even had a metallic ring to them.

—Save for a few exceptions.

“Her kendo was pretty high level. If she was second, how amazing must first be?” Tatsuya exhaled in admiration of their sword skills—notably Sayaka’s.

“No… She’s like a different person than the Sayaka Mibu I saw. I can’t believe she’s gotten so much better in just two years…” answered Erika, taken by astonishment but also giving off a somehow bellicose air, as if she was hiding her face and licking her lips.

The two of them disengaged, their game of tug-of-war stopped for a moment, and each jumped backward to create distance between them.

The observers’ responses were split: those who were breathing, and those who weren’t.

“I wonder who’ll win…” wondered Erika under her breath.

“Mibu has the advantage, right?” replied Tatsuya with a whisper.

“Why do you say that?”

“Kirihara is avoiding striking her in the face. It was a bluff, one which anticipated taking the first attack. They’re not far enough apart for him to win when he’s both not allowed to use magic and putting another handicap on himself. Even in a fair fight, if it was just a shinai duel, I think the odds would be in Mibu’s favor.”

“I mostly agree. But how long can Kirihara endure this?”

He couldn’t have heard Erika’s remark, but…

“Uohhhhh!”

…for the first time in the battle, Kirihara charged in with a war cry.

Each of them swung straight down.

“Hitting each other?”

“No, they’re not even!”

Kirihara’s shinai caught Sayaka’s left upper arm…

…and Sayaka’s shinai was planted in Kirihara’s right shoulder.

“Kuh!”

Kirihara struck Sayaka’s shinai aside with his left hand and took a big jump backward.

“Defeated because he changed his aim halfway through.”

“I see—that’s why his stance loosened. It was the perfect timing for a double hit…but in the end, he couldn’t find it in him to do it.”

Tatsuya and Erika weren’t the only ones who saw that the duel was over.

The faces of the kendo club members looked relieved.

And the members of the kenjutsu club, the group that had made its way to the front of the gallery at some point, and wearing different uniforms than the kendo club, were making sour faces.

“If these were real swords, you’d be dead. You wouldn’t have even reached my bones. Admit your defeat.” Sayaka declared her victory, her expression dignified.

Kirihara scowled at her. Had he admitted that she was correct as a swordsman though his emotions tried to deny it?

“Hah, ha-ha-ha…” Kirihara broke out into a hollow laugh. Had he admitted his defeat?

It didn’t look like it.

The water level of Tatsuya’s internal danger sense suddenly shot up.

Sayaka, who was still facing him, probably understood the threat more distinctly than he did.

She readied her sword again, pointed the tip right at him, and glared sharply at Kirihara.

“If these were real swords? My body hasn’t been cut at all! Mibu, you want a fight with real swords? Then…as you wish! I’ll take you on for real!”

Kirihara took his right hand off his shinai and pressed it on his left wrist.

There was a scream from the onlookers.

The spectators covered their ears from the unpleasant noise that sounded like nails on glass.

There were a few who paled and fell to their knees, too.

Kirihara jumped in closer and swung his shinai down with his left hand.

Though his one-handed attack was swift, it didn’t have the foremost power.

But Sayaka didn’t take the attack—she leaped far backward.

It hadn’t hit her.

It had grazed her, at most.

And yet there was a thin line across Sayaka’s armor. It was the trace of where the shinai had grazed.

He had used a vibration-type close-combat spell called High-Frequency Blade to give his shinai the edge of a real sword.

“How is it, Mibu? This is a real sword!”

Once again, he swung his sword down at Sayaka with one hand.

And before his eyes, Tatsuya got in the middle of them.

Just before he jumped in, Tatsuya had lightly crossed his left and right arms, with CADs on them, and sent psions into them.

The tightly bound psionic stream—he imagined pressing the CADs’ keys with psionic fingers.

By using the noncontact switch, the CADs outputted an activation program.

In a flash, the psionic wave itself, having been converted into an intricate pattern—the typeless magic was fired from Tatsuya.

This time, there were those among the onlookers who had to cover their mouths.

Symptoms not unlike motion sickness chained radically.

But in return, the unpleasant, high-pitched noise disappeared.

Kirihara’s shinai and Tatsuya’s arm crossed.

There was no sound of bamboo striking flesh.

What resonated was the sound of something falling to the wooden floor.

And then, what the observers saw, having been liberated from the noise and instability, having finally regained the ability to look and see what was happening…

…was Tatsuya grabbing the left wrist of Kirihara—who had been knocked away and thrown onto his back—and then pressing down on his shoulder with his knee.

Hostile whispers broke the silence in the small gymnasium—in the arena.

“Who’s that?” “I’ve never seen him before.” “Isn’t he a new student?” “Look, he’s a Weed.” “Why’s a substitute getting involved?” “But that armband…” “Come to think of it, I heard the disciplinary committee chose a Course 2 freshman.” “Seriously? A Weed in the disciplinary committee?”

The unrest was spreading with the kenjutsu club’s position at its center.

Both boys and girls were whispering about him.

Half of the circling crowd of people launched unfriendly stares at Tatsuya.

The other half was holding its breath.

Being oppressed by an overwhelming away-game atmosphere, Tatsuya, still holding Kirihara down, took out his portable terminal’s voice communication unit. His calm expression didn’t seem like a bluff, at least as far as anyone could tell. His bearing resembled the bad guy—used to being booed at.

“—This is the second gymnasium. I’ve arrested one person. He’s wounded, so please bring a stretcher just in case.”

He hadn’t said it very loudly, but his words reached the edges of the throng.

After a moment, right when what that meant sank in, one of the members of the kenjutsu club in the front row shouted angrily at him, confused.

“Hey, what’s the meaning of this?!”

He’d probably lost his head. His question didn’t really mean anything. Or maybe it wasn’t a question, but a threat.

“I am asking for Kirihara to come with me, because he used magic improperly.”

Tatsuya responded to his angry voice with honesty. Although his gaze remained fixed on the disabled Kirihara. He hadn’t looked up, so while his answer might have been honest, it was hard to call it polite.

Depending on how you looked at it, it was making fun of him.

That was how the upperclassman in the kenjutsu club thought.

“Hey, you bastard! Don’t give me that shit, you Weed!”

He reached his hands out to Tatsuya’s collar.

Tatsuya let go of Kirihara and, still half down, slid backward.

He kept his eye on Kirihara, who had fallen down to the floor, his legs and back stretched out.

He must have felt pretty hazy to fail to fall gracefully when flung away like that. There wouldn’t be any concern of him getting away like this. So judging, Tatsuya finally directed his eyes toward the upperclassman who had flared up at him (and was still flared up at him, in the present tense).

In response to Tatsuya’s attitude—he seemed not even to be paying attention to him—the kenjutsu club member facing Tatsuya was grating his teeth with such force he thought he could hear the grinding.

Support fire from the crowd. “Why just Kirihara? Isn’t Mibu from the kendo club guilty of the same crime? Both parties are to blame here!”

Of course, it was the support for Kirihara and the kenjutsu club member who had tried to grab Tatsuya, and criticism toward Tatsuya.

In response, Tatsuya answered in a level tone, again honestly. “I believe I said it was because of improper use of magic.”

Erika, staggered, gave him a look that told him he should have just ignored them. Then, the thing that she feared happened.

“Bullshit!”

The upperclassman, now in a complete frenzy, went to grab Tatsuya again.

He swiveled his body like a matador to flee from his hands.But all that did was fan the flames.

This time he came at him with a fist, but once again, Tatsuya dodged it.

The kenjutsu club member madly threw punch after punch, but he was clearly out of his element when it came to empty-handed combat, and so his movements were sloppy. He may have been in a frenzy, but it didn’t take someone of Tatsuya’s skills to be able to easily dodge him.

He continued to evade the wide punches with light steps until their positions had reversed. The upperclassman, tired of getting nothing but air, stopped, and Tatsuya stopped with him—and just then…

A second kenjutsu club member came out of the crowd and rushed at Tatsuya’s back.

His stance, with his arms stuck out oddly—was he going for a full nelson?

Erika tried to shout Look out! but before the words came out…

Tatsuya’s body swung around.

His outstretched arm drew an arc through the air and swallowed up the body coming to grab him.

The second kenjutsu member collided with the first one, and the two of them rolled spectacularly to the ground in a pile.

Silence visited them again.

All noise had disappeared from the arena. No one even coughed.

But if veins popping out of people’s heads made a noise, it would have been piercing the eardrums of Tatsuya and Erika right now.

In the next moment…

…the kenjutsu club members all charged Tatsuya at once.

There was a scream.

Everyone besides the kenjutsu club—not only the gallery, but even the kendo club members as well—scattered like spiderlings, afraid of being caught up in the brawl.

Among them, only one person, Sayaka—who could be said to be the cause of this incident—readied her stance, probably about to charge in and lend Tatsuya her support.

“Wait, Mibu!”

But a senior male member of the same club grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Ah, Captain Tsukasa…”

She tried to resist for a moment, but when she saw the face of the person grabbing her arm, she obediently pulled back and left with him.

Her face was filled with guilt, but even still, she didn’t bat away the hand of this senior—the captain of the boy’s kendo team, Kinoe Tsukasa.

As Sayaka was dragged away from the brawl by the boy’s captain, Tatsuya became the focus, and he met the attacks of the kenjutsu club members. However, in meeting the attacks, he didn’t counter them—he continued to handle the Blooms by sidestepping and dodging them all.

His carriage was more steady than splendid—or perhaps the term reliable would have been best here. He only moved exactly as much as he needed to. He had to have known the precise order of the attacks of the upperclassmen, who were coming at him from all directions. He wasn’t making a show out of it, dodging everything by just a hair, but rather he slipped past them with enough room to get himself out of danger. As part of his coordinated attempt to hold them all here, he would fake attacks and cause allies to hit each other, or become a wall and expertly wheel around to the outside in an arc, out of the way of opponents closing in on him. Despite ten people attacking him, the kenjutsu club couldn’t even get him out of breath much less stop him from moving around.

Not a fragment of haste or unrest showed on his face. Not a scrap of sloppiness or stagnation showed in his movements. The disrespectful Weed didn’t counterattack, not because he could not but because there was no need. He was making these kenjutsu club Blooms come to terms with that fact.

In the back of the group, a furious, red-faced kenjutsu club member tried to fire magic at Tatsuya. The leftover psionic light shining one after another must have meant that he had expanded an activation program and tried to use a spell.

However, his magic never went off.

Whenever Tatsuya directed his gaze there, along with tremors that brought forth nausea as if by motion sickness, the clumps of psions that couldn’t form a magic program fizzled out into the empty air.

As they cursed angrily, their faces betraying their incomprehension, they again came at Tatsuya and tried to grab him and punch him, continuing to only hit air.

Sayaka didn’t realize until the end that the boy’s captain was watching this all with great interest.

To be continued