Tatsuya and Miyuki greeted the new year of AD 2096 together as they always did.

Their father was spending New Year’s at his lover’s former primary residence, which was now her second house. Tatsuya and Miyuki would have found that more awkward in many ways, so they had no complaint about avoiding it.

Neither of them used New Year’s as an excuse for a day’s self-indulgence. As Tatsuya waited by the front door at around the same time they’d usually leave for school, he heard his sister call, “I must apologize for the wait,” and looked up.

Clad in a long-sleeved kimono of a lustrous red fabric with a white-and-pink peony design, Miyuki gracefully descended the stairs.

On her face, so fair-skinned as to need no powder, stood a single pair of brilliantly crimson lips.

The swaying hair ornament hanging down from her tied-up hair seemed ever so slightly childlike, but it was actually a point of charm that formed an age-appropriate cuteness amid her maturity.

Her congenital beauty wasn’t the only thing that drew the eye, however.

The women’s clothing of yore placed pressure on the chest, and though more three-dimensional kimonos had been tailored in recent years, Miyuki wore a traditional furisode, which expressed the lines of her waist, so slight it might break, and of her chest, which had increased in volume; despite that, her neck was hidden modestly. It was an inexplicably elegant manner of wearing clothes.

Upon seeing his sister’s glamorous figure—the prettiest in the world, he thought—Tatsuya felt brotherly pride swell.

“Mmhmm. You look very pretty.”

Tatsuya placed his sister in the center of his view as she dipped her feet into her sandals, then offered this unabashed compliment.

Miyuki’s cheeks immediately turned vermilion. “Brother… Please, do not tease me.”

Embarrassed, though not looking away, she instead protested through upturned eyes; the gesture was powerful enough to turn to ash any nonimmunized man.

“I wasn’t teasing you… Let’s be off.”

Tatsuya, though, handled it easily; it could be said that he hadn’t been Miyuki’s older brother sixteen years (fifteen years and nine months, to be precise) for nothing.

A self-driving commuter was parked in front of the gate. Though it was self-driving, it wasn’t unoccupied. In the back seat sat one adult man and one adult woman.

“Happy New Year, Master.”

“Happy New Year, Kokonoe-sensei. I hope you will continue to look after us again this year.”

At Tatsuya’s short greeting and Miyuki’s polite bend at the waist, Yakumo responded with a smile, still sitting. “Well, every year you grow a good deal more attractive. Your beauty rivals that of Kichijouten herself. The tenyo on Mount Meru might hide themselves out of embarrassment.”

In a way, it was exactly the kind of response expected from Yakumo.

“Sensei… Isn’t there something else that needs saying?”

The interruption came from the woman sitting next to him.

Tatsuya, the words taken right out of his mouth, turned to her before Yakumo could butt in and lowered his head in a slight bow. “Happy New Year, Ms. Ono. I must ask, is it okay for you to be seen with Master?”

“Happy New Year, Shiba. Unpleasant questions right out of the gate this year, I see.”

Tatsuya was actually honestly concerned, but Haruka seemed to take it as sarcasm. Mentally, he shrugged it off, though when he thought back to several of his usual habits, he was forced to realize that he couldn’t necessarily blame her for the misunderstanding.

“I ran into Sensei by coincidence,” she continued. “I came here today to chaperone you.”

“I see. So that’s your story,” remarked Tatsuya. “A chaperone for high school students might feel a bit uncomfortable, but I suppose… But in that case, should you be calling him sensei?”

In the back seat, Haruka scowled.

He was right—in this day and age, as a high school student, simply paying one’s first shrine visit of the New Year didn’t necessitate adult supervision. If she was going to make an excuse, he’d have expected it to be that she was “going with” them, not “chaperoning” them.

And calling someone she’d run into by coincidence sensei, despite him not being in the teaching profession, carried the risk of sounding peculiar.

“Shall we think about it on the way?”

Miyuki’s proposition came only after Tatsuya opened the commuter’s door. Ignoring the lost-in-thought Haruka, he offered a hand to Miyuki, then closed the door and rounded the commuter to get into the opposite seat, where the driver would be. When he locked the door, the commuter pulled away toward the station.

They were paid significant attention at the station as they transferred into a private train cabinet, and they drew even more stares after getting out of the four-seater to make the five-minute walk to the meeting place.

“Wow! Miyuki, you look so pretty!”

…And when they arrived at the meeting place, those were the first words that greeted Tatsuya and Miyuki. Mizuki, wearing a long dress and a fur cape-coat, looked at Miyuki, spellbound. Her gaze was so enthusiastic Tatsuya wasn’t sure she even saw him.

“Happy New Year, Tatsuya. You look nice. Which is a little surprising.”

Honoka, wearing a furisode like Miyuki, seemed to wince at first under the pressure of her classmates’ attractiveness, but she smoothly diverted those thoughts upon seeing Tatsuya, who was dressed plainly, though with a more upright air about him than usual. She quickly returned to a good New Year’s smile, seeing that.

“Happy New Year,” he answered. “You look nice, too, Honoka.”

Honoka did indeed look good in a furisode kimono, so Tatsuya didn’t feel like he was flattering her. She smiled happily, and he returned it, only to then consider his own clothes. “You say surprising—does this look a little weird for me?” he asked.

“Nah, not at all!” said Leo. “You look good, Tatsuya. You have a kind of commanding presence, like the leader of a crime syndicate.”

“What am I, a yakuza?”

Tatsuya couldn’t tell if Leo was being serious or not. After all, Leo himself was in a jacket that looked like day-to-day clothes.

Mizuki, Honoka, and Leo were the three they met up with for their New Year’s shrine visit. Erika and Mikihiko were too busy helping around the house with all their followers present, so they couldn’t slip out; Shizuku would be leaving for her study-abroad program very shortly and couldn’t avoid things related to her father’s job this time.

“You don’t look particularly like a yakuza, but for sure, there aren’t many high schoolers who look that good in a haori and hakama.”

“It isn’t so much yakuza as sergeant or constable.”

As Haruka and Yakumo, who came a few steps later, said, Tatsuya was wearing a haori jacket, hakama, and setta sandals today—a pure Japanese ensemble. And as Honoka and Leo said, the outfit really suited him. In fact, the outfit felt empty without a larger waist and a truncheon attached.

“Oh, Haruka! Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Ms. Ono… Tatsuya, who might this be?”

After Leo’s casual greeting came a more by-the-book one from Honoka, who then glanced over Yakumo. After that, she sent the questioning look to Tatsuya.

“Head priest of Kichijouji Temple, Kashou Yakumo. Maybe the rest of us would know him better as the ninjutsu user Yakumo Kokonoe? He’s my martial arts teacher.”

Hearing Tatsuya’s introduction, Honoka’s and Mizuki’s eyes widened. He’d figured Honoka would know the name Yakumo, but Mizuki was beyond his expectations.

“I get it. That’s why we were talking about going to the Hie Shrine for this.”

And when Leo demonstrated an unlikely piece of knowledge, Tatsuya was outright surprised. Certainly not because he’d been looking down on Leo, but…

“What do you mean?”

…because, as one could see from Haruka being completely clueless, it wasn’t a fact most normal people knew.

“Hm? Kashou—that means he’s a Tendai Buddhist monk, right? Aren’t praying to Sannou and Taimitsu rituals basically joined at the hip within the Tendai sect?” explained Leo, looking confused as to why she had asked.

However, the question marks above Haruka’s head only increased with this new information.

“You’re quite knowledgeable for someone so young. Your name is Leonhard Saijou, right?” Leaving behind the confusion, Yakumo addressed Leo in a jovial tone.

“Huh? You know who I am?” Leo blurted.

“Yes. I had a chance to watch recordings of the Nine School Competition,” answered Yakumo. His response was also straightforward, without any twists, but when Leo heard it, he reflexively scowled. He’d probably remembered his anachronistic and out-of-place mantle getup. Apparently it was a memory he’d have liked to forget.

With preliminary introductions finished, the seven of them—the five classmates, the man with the shaven head (though he didn’t wear the kesa robe of a Buddhist priest, but instead a normal men’s kimono), and the young woman—walked in a pack toward the main shrine. Fortunately for Haruka, nobody asked her why she was going with them.

Roadside stands lined either side of the shrine approach, a sight unchanged for a century. But even this was a scene that had vanished in most places with the worsening of the global food crisis. It was likely a deeply emotional sight for those old enough to remember it, but Tatsuya and the others didn’t have any such sentiment for the past.

Without any particular detours, they walked up the long staircase, passed through the shrine gates, and entered the inner yard in front of the outer shrine. There, Tatsuya suddenly felt eyes on him.

Not a rude, scrutinizing stare, but the glancing kind, of someone stealing looks at him.

“Any idea, Shiba?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Heh. Maybe Tatsuya’s outfit is an unusual sight for foreigners.”

They quite skillfully played it casual, but there was no fooling Haruka and Yakumo’s eyes. Even Tatsuya had noticed it without using Elemental Sight, so Haruka aside, it was only natural that his master would as well.

As Yakumo said, the “foreigner” had the stereotypical blonde hair and green eyes—and she was a young girl. In these times, though, that didn’t necessarily mean she was a citizen of another country. Plus, her features gave off a Japanese impression, somehow.

She looked about Tatsuya’s age. Considering the ethnic differences, it would be easy to mistake her for younger than she was, but Tatsuya decided that she wasn’t that much younger than they were at all.

“What might you be looking at, Brother?”

He hadn’t had his eyes on the girl for more than a second, but that was enough for Miyuki to notice. When she followed where his gaze was, her eyes rose in surprise.

“…Well, she is a pretty girl,” said his sister flatly, her inner thoughts readily apparent.

To be certain, the girl was pretty enough that Miyuki calling her such wasn’t sarcasm. Vividly colored hair and eyes. In a sense, her beauty was the direct opposite of Miyuki’s. But that certainly hadn’t been why Tatsuya was looking at her.

He glanced at Yakumo for help—and when he saw the childish smirk on the man’s lips, he realized he’d have to do something about this himself.

He peered directly into his sister’s eyes, and in a cool, uninterested tone of voice, he responded, “Not as pretty as you, though.”

“…Please, don’t think you can use that trick to fool me every time.”

The words were a fierce counterattack on their own, but her giddy voice, vermilion cheeks, and wandering eyes left little need for fear.

“I’m not trying to fool you. That’s what I honestly think, and I wasn’t looking at her for that reason anyway.”

“Brother, I swear!” Miyuki quickly went to turn her face away but then realized something that wouldn’t let her turn a blind eye to what he’d said. “…Is there something suspicious about her?”

“Suspicious? Well, her clothing, for starters…” answered Tatsuya in a voice like he was about to crack a pained grin.

Miyuki stole a second glance at the blonde-haired, green-eyed girl, and was very nearly convinced of the whole matter.

A light-beige half coat and a skirt with a frilled hem. Patterned tights and long boots. Simply hearing those things wouldn’t be strange. But her half coat was the same length as her skirt, which had a four-inch inseam. Apparently, it was to leave only the colorful frills decorating its hem visible. And her stretch boot soles were awfully thick, and the boots went up to her knees, combining with her tights, which had a lace pattern that revealed skin in places. And the gloves bordered with fake fur. And the animal-patterned soft hat. Based on current trends, her outfit was an incoherent medley. It was like she’d thrown together various girly fashions from before the war at random. It wasn’t strange that even Tatsuya, a guy, would think it was strange.

But Miyuki knew her brother wasn’t the type to seriously worry about such surface things.

“That isn’t all, is it?”

This time, she directed a strong-willed gaze at the girl, unlike before.

Perhaps sensing it, though her face betrayed nothing, the girl began to walk.

Toward Tatsuya’s group.

Without saying anything, she passed by them, then walked up the long staircase.

But her route made Tatsuya certain that she’d come near just to cast a glance at them.

While the mission given to Major Angelina Sirius was an undercover investigation, it also had a strong diversionary aspect to it. In accordance with that, their first contact seemed to have gone well—she’d gotten a look at her targets, and they at her. She’d been worried they wouldn’t notice her, since she’d concealed her presence, but her subordinate had been right earlier—there was no need to fear. Still, being spotted so easily wasn’t satisfying in and of itself, she thought as she opened the door to the apartment that would be her base of living operations for this mission.

“Welcome back.”

Contrary to Major Sirius’s prediction that her roommate wouldn’t be back yet, a voice came from the room to welcome her.

“Silvie, you’re back?”

When her older roommate came to the door to greet her, the major called her by her nickname.

This young woman’s name was Silvia Mercury First. Everything past the Silvia was a code name, marking her as the highest among the Mercury-rank planet-class magicians within the Stars. Her actual military rank was warrant officer, though, and her age twenty-five. As could be understood from her being given the First code name despite her young age, she was a woman whose talents were highly rated. Silvia hadn’t originally wanted to be a soldier—she’d majored in journalism. Now, though, her information analysis skills made her valuable enough to be selected as Major Sirius’s aide.

“Silvie?”

Supposedly talented, Major Sirius’s roommate didn’t answer her words, instead staring intently at her. The major, dubious, said her name a second time, and Silvia finally spoke, her gaze steady.

“Lina… What are you wearing?”

Lina was Major Angelina Sirius’s nickname when she was off the clock, and she had ordered that she be called that rather than Commander or Major during the undercover mission. Silvia had always been a free-spirited woman, so regardless of the rank and position difference between them, she quickly got used to using it—and speaking frankly.

Though she hadn’t been outright rude, it wasn’t something one would usually say to a superior officer. But “Lina” didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever.

“Oh, this? I did some research on Japan’s fashion idols from the last century so I wouldn’t stand out more than I had to. It was hard work, too. How do I look?”

“…Before I answer that, I’d like to ask something.”

“Yes, what is it?”

Silvia was making a face like she was nursing a headache and about to massage her temples, but Lina didn’t seem to notice. “Isn’t it hard to walk in those boots?” she asked.

Lina nodded, as if heartily agreeing with her. “It is! I nearly tripped a few times. I don’t know how Japanese girls don’t twist their ankles walking in these.”

“Did you see any other girls wearing the same kind of boots?”

It should have only needed one question, but it took two. Still, Lina didn’t seem very bothered. “Hmm? Now that I think of it, I didn’t.”

Silvia’s expression changed; now it looked like she both had a headache and wanted to sigh. “Lina, I’ll be frank. Those boots are way out of fashion.”

“Huh?!”

Lina’s eyes went wide, and the sight made Silvia’s irritation explode. “Don’t huh me! It’s not just the boots! Your tights and that hat are out of fashion, too. One hundred years is too far back! And your coordination is incredibly incoherent. This isn’t the fashion sense a young woman would have. I bet you stood out like a sore thumb in that.”

The uncomfortable face her scolding met with told Silvia that her roommate knew what she was talking about. Truthfully, Lina had noticed eyes on her wherever she went. She’d shrugged them off, though, figuring a foreigner was a rare sight.

“I know you were supposed to draw the targets’ attention…but how are you going to handle drawing the attention of people who have nothing to do with us?”

Finally unable to hold it in any longer, Silvia heaved a sigh.

“Commander.”

The word was polite; the tone was cold. Lina thought she felt a cold sweat break out along her spine.

“We will cancel everything else for the day. I do not wish to be rude, but this Mercury will explain Japan’s latest fashion trends in a detailed and easy-to-understand way,” announced Silvia, hands on her hips.

Lina might have far eclipsed Silvia in combat power, but these were words she just couldn’t fight.

After a short but eventful Winter Break, the third school quarter began.

The “eventful” things included, for one, the unexpectedly tearful parting when seeing Shizuku off at the airport (main roles: Honoka, Shizuku; supporting roles: Miyuki, Mizuki, with Tatsuya at a loss)—but Tatsuya had faith that the experience would turn into a good memory one day. He had to, or it would have been too harrowing.

The transfer student would be replacing Shizuku in Class A starting today, but it didn’t have anything to do with Tatsuya. He wasn’t completely unrelated as long as she was in the same class as Miyuki, but he had no desire to involve himself with her.

Speaking of classes, they were on a full-time curriculum right from the first day of the new quarter. At the end of first period, rumors about the transfer student in Class A were already making their way around, but he wasn’t going to be assertive and put up an antenna for it; the gossip went in one ear and out the other.

His aloof stance, however, still placed him in the minority, and during their break after second period, he too was caught up in the vortex of rumors by a certain curious friend.

“I hear she’s gorgeous,” said Erika, coming up to him immediately, looking excited—or maybe feigning excitement—at which point he decided he could no longer leave things unaddressed. “Beautiful blonde hair, too. Even the upperclassmen are showing up to see her…”

“You going sightseeing, too, Erika?” he asked; for now, despite her fevered descriptions, it was all hearsay.

“No, there’s way too many people for me to get in.”

“Huh,” interjected Leo. “I guess you do know how to restrain yourself—”

No sooner had he retorted with this than his hands flew over his head in defense. A moment later, there was a frog-like out-of-tune sound, and he bent forward in pain, clutching his throat—which had been left unprotected.

If he knows she’ll do it, why does he bother saying that stuff?

As Tatsuya stared unsympathetically down at Leo, who was writhing after being caught in the throat by a rolled-up notebook, the perpetrator—Erika—continued to talk as though nothing had happened. “Well, I’m a girl, right? I don’t care how beautiful she is—it’s not worth having to jostle my way through a squeezing crowd just to see her.”

Tatsuya was of the exact same opinion when it came to having no intention of actually going to see her, but as a man, in terms of opinions that linked his curiosity fully to his sexuality, he felt the need to object.

“Nobody expects transfer students at a magic high school, after all. It’s only natural to be curious about one. Hasn’t happened for at least ten years, right?”

“I don’t know about before, but we’re apparently not the only one who got an exchange student,” interjected Mikihiko, just having arrived from the geometry prep room. “I hear Second, Third, and Fourth High have all accepted a short-term exchange student. A few apparently came to the university, too, under the pretense of joint research. One of our followers was talking about it.”

“Oh, I heard about the university, too,” said Erika. “Rumor is that when they found out how incredible flight magic is for military applications after the Yokohama incident, they were falling over themselves to come here and scope it out.”

Though old magic and modern magic were different fields, the Yoshida and Chiba had many followers who used each, so the amount of information that came to them personally was on a different level than what people outside of the families could glean. Based on what Tatsuya’s friends had said, the USNA had put a good deal more people into this than the families had expected. In October, the talk had been of the Stars acting by themselves; now, it looked like the situation had gotten quite a bit worse since then.

“Then you think the transfer student in Class A is a spy, too?” asked Leo, outspoken as ever, having recovered from his agonies.

“Look, you…”

Erika wasn’t the only one to give a sour face—Mizuki and Mikihiko did as well.

“Leo, you’re not supposed to say those things out loud…” scolded Mizuki.

“We have to support her as classmates, you know…” added Mikihiko.

Even attacked by their doubles lineup, Leo managed an argument. “You say classmates, but she’s in Class A, isn’t she? We’ll barely see her.”

“Miyuki’s in Class A, stupid,” said Erika, cleaving his objection in two. “The student council vice president and the first transfer student in who knows how many years. It might only be until she gets used to the school, but Miyuki will have to look out for her. If she and Miyuki are involved with each other, than we’ll have to be, too.”

Tatsuya, who didn’t want to proactively involve himself with the new girl, sighed to himself, thinking that Erika, unfortunately, was right.

That involvement would come earlier than he thought. Actually, it was more like it was the earliest possibility out of the ones he’d predicted—a merciless actualization.

His group of friends met for lunch in the cafeteria like always. Miyuki and Honoka came, as well as one other—a blonde-haired, green-eyed girl. Seeing her wasn’t exactly shocking, but it did cause Tatsuya a momentary bout of Seriously?

He’d heard of her hair and eye color and more than his fill of gossip about how pretty she was. Anyway, if she was just a pretty girl, Tatsuya had his resistance built up from Miyuki. No, the surprise he felt this time around wasn’t because of the happenstance or her beauty; it was because the new girl was the same one they’d met—or rather, chanced to see—at Hie Shrine.

“Would you mind very much if I sat with you?”

From her mouth flowed fluent Japanese. She had something of an accent to her emphases, but one couldn’t blame her. She was studying abroad in Japan, after all—though it was possible it was all pretense, meant to craft a believable infiltration.

“Sure, go ahead.”

Her eyes were directed at Tatsuya. He didn’t feel much need to square off against her, so he spoke candidly.

“Lina, let’s get our plates first.”

“Plates? …Oh, for the food. All right.”

Tatsuya and the others had already gotten their meals. Prompted by Miyuki, the three of them headed for the serving counter. The buzz where they went sounded louder to him than normal. More students let them past, too, in awe.

“She really is a knockout next to the two of them, huh?”

Erika, despite also being attractive, wasn’t the type to put pressure on those who saw her, and even she had to breathe a word at the sight.

“She seems to be pretty friendly with them…” said Mizuki, probably referring to how they’d just met today.

“Hey, Tatsuya…” said Leo. “I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

“Whoa. Now that’s an ancient pickup line.” Erika immediately snapped back a retort, but she quickly realized that Leo wasn’t that enamored by the girl, because, truthfully, she had wanted to say it, too.

“…You know, you’re right.” Mizuki nodded in agreement.

“Wait, you, too, Shibata? She…can’t be a celebrity or a model, could she?” wondered Leo.

Of course, Tatsuya knew the truth lay elsewhere. In fact, he was surprised they didn’t very clearly remember someone dressed up so conspicuously. As he wondered whether to clear up his friends’ questions here and now, the three others came back together.

He felt many sets of eyes gather on them. Gazes pretending to be casual, but unable to hide a strong interest, from all over the room. People were always looking at Miyuki, but there were clearly more people stealing glances their way now.

“I’m sorry for the wait, Brother.” Acting like it didn’t bother her at all, Miyuki sat down naturally next to Tatsuya.

“I’ll introduce you, Tatsuya,” said Honoka, setting her tray down across from him like it was totally normal, turning to the girl who sat next to her. “Her name is Angelina Kudou Shields. As I’m sure you’ve heard, she’s the exchange student who started in Class A today.”

After hearing Honoka’s introduction, Tatsuya—and the other three as well—gave troubled expressions.

“Honoka, would you introduce me to everyone else, and not just this person?”

But it was the exchange student in question who spoke for their concerns.

“Oh, ah, I-I’m sorry!”

“…Well, that’s Honoka for you.”

“That it is.”

Erika and Mizuki both spoke truly, not trying to make fun of her. Honoka went red in the face and clammed up.

“Allow me. This is Angelina Kudou Shields. She’s from America.”

After Miyuki’s second introduction, the transfer student gave a bow in her seat, her blonde hair fluttering. “Please, call me Lina,” she said, narrowing her eyes into a beautiful smile.

Her deep-blue eyes weren’t the color of water, or of ice, but the blue of the azure sky. Her wavy blonde hair, bound by ribbons to either side of her head, would probably reach to the small of her back when undone. It might have even been longer than Miyuki’s. Her mature features for a freshman in high school and her coquettish hairstyle seemed somewhat unbalanced, but it served to soften the sharp impression her beauty made, giving her an air of amiability.

More eyes were on them than usual, and she was clearly the cause. After hearing her name again from Miyuki, even as they were taken by her gorgeous smile (two male students in particular), mild surprise was on their faces; Tatsuya preempted them and returned the introduction. “I am Tatsuya Shiba, from Class E. As I’m sure it’s confusing to have two Shibas at the table, you may simply call me Tatsuya.”

“Thanks. You can call me Lina, too. And I’d be grateful if we didn’t need to speak formally with one another.”

“All right, then.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tatsuya.”

Lina reached a hand across the table—perhaps it was customary—so Tatsuya gently took it from underneath, as though holding it up reverently.

It wasn’t a handshake; the act was like that of someone asking a noblewoman for a kiss. Was it beyond her expectations?

“Tatsuya, are you by chance Miyuki’s older brother?” asked Lina, confusion rising in her sky-blue eyes but her expression casual.

As he reflected on her lack of a poker face, Tatsuya nodded with a smile, careful not to chuckle. He purposely didn’t point out that Miyuki had called him as much a few moments ago.

“I’m Erika Chiba. You can call me Erika, Lina.” Being gregarious in times like this was doubtless one of Erika’s strong points.

“I’m Mizuki Shibata. Please, call me Mizuki.”

“And I’m Leonhard Saijou. Leo’s just fine. I’m a little rude when I talk sometimes, but don’t take it personally.”

“I’m Mikihiko Yoshida. You can just call me Mikihiko, too.”

Taking encouragement from Erika, Mizuki, Leo, and Mikihiko introduced themselves in turn.

“Erika, Mizuki, Leo, and Mikihiko. Nice to meet you.”

Lina memorized all their names without having to ask again. It was an elementary skill, but also the first step in earning goodwill from others, and she had it down pat.

Still, when she said Mikihiko’s name, it sounded like two names—Miki Hiko. His very Japanese name must have been difficult for her American tongue.

“It’s hard to say, isn’t it? You don’t have to call him Mikihiko—you can just use Miki.”

If the person himself had said it, that would have been an impressive display of consideration, but when another person said it—Erika, in particular—it seemed like more than just friendliness. At least, Mikihiko seemed to feel that way and tried to object to Erika’s words (or rather, suggestion).

“Oh, is that so? I’ll do that then. Is Miki all right with you?”

But right before he could, Lina asked that with a face that looked relieved—forcing him to accept the proposal.

Lina had chosen the soba noodles from the cafeteria menu, and as she wielded her chopsticks with an assured manner, she answered all the questions that occasionally came her way without so much as a sour face. It probably helped that none of the group was the type to ask anything ill-mannered. As everyone was about finished eating, Lina seemed to have opened up quite a bit. That was when Tatsuya, representing the other Class E members harboring the same question, asked it:

“By the way, Lina, would you happen to be a blood relation of His Excellency Kudou?”

Old Sage was a moniker only used by Japan’s magicians. And Tatsuya personally didn’t like the term. Instead, he asked the question with the term His Excellency, used publicly out of respect for the retired general.

“I seem to recall His Excellency’s younger brother visiting America and starting a family there.”

That was in an age when international marriages between magicians were encouraged. At the time, Retsu Kudou was already seen as the world’s strongest—and trickiest—magician. His younger brother had moved to America and begun a family there with an American magician, which was quite a topic of conversation for at least Japan’s magicians.

“Oh, I’m surprised you knew that, Tatsuya. It was quite a long time ago.”

Tatsuya’s speculation turned out to be right. Also, from that, he understood that Retsu Kudou’s brother’s bones being interred in American soil as those of an American magician was a thing of the past for her.

“My maternal grandfather was Shogun Retsu’s younger brother.”

She pronounced the Japanese word for general without the elongated o, which certainly wasn’t Tatsuya’s ears playing tricks on him—it was the medieval title itself from which the modern had come. Retsu Kudou had long held a leadership position among Japan’s magicians, and even now, ones from the West still called him shogun. She may have been a quarter Japanese, and she may have been fluent in the language, but she was still an American magician through and through.

“I think the connection was how the topic of a foreign exchange program was brought to me.”

“Oh, then you didn’t request for it yourself, Lina?” piped in Erika casually.

The slight disturbance Lina showed at that was also likely not Tatsuya just seeing things.