Those who crawl through the dark of night aren’t limited to the nefarious. That city life remains unthreatened by its outlaws—or at least remains undestroyed—is thanks to the chaos-battling disciples of law and order who frantically run through that same darkness.

Of course, not all of these “disciples of law and order” are diligent. In fact, one young man who was (or ought to have been) a defender of law and order was just busy complaining to his male partner.

“One thing after another to bother us…”

“…”

“And here I thought the disasters ended with the New Year.”

“…”

“What’s going on anyway? Illegal immigrants and foreign invaders made more sense than this.”

“…It’s our job to figure that out, remember? These incidents are keeping food on our tables, so quit your whining!”

His superior continued on after that, muttering his regrets about the incidents occurring at all. But just as the coworker sucked in his breath, ready to give an actual admonition—or rather, a scolding—to his superior…

“Yes? This is Inagaki.”

…he instead answered a call that came over the receiver in his ear, making sure to mask the tension in his voice.

“…Roger. We’ll head there right away.”

After switching off the transmitter, he fired a harsh glance at his superior, who must have been able to guess what had happened and yet was still idling.

“Chief, it’s the fifth one. Cause of death is the same as past victims—death by emaciation. No external wounds, also the same as always.”

After hearing Lieutenant Inagaki’s report, Chief Toshikazu Chiba spread his arms and looked up, as though entreating the heavens. “And all the blood is gone, too, right? …The fifth freak death this month. It’s getting real hard to keep the media off this.”

Without speaking of the victim or the perpetrator, Chief Toshikazu Chiba breathed a troubled sigh. And though his expression said he found it all a huge pain, in his eyes there glinted the sharp light of a hunter.

Angelina Sirius’s debut at First High was sensational.

Her looks, for one, became such an entity that by the end of her first day, not a student in school didn’t know about them.

Until now, the seat of most beautiful girl had belonged to Miyuki. This had been a unanimous viewpoint, including from upperclassmen and female students.

But with Lina in the picture now, their “queen” had become a binary star. Their frequent opportunities to do things together only added to the impression.

Golden hair that glittered in the sunlight. Eyes that shone bluer than sapphires.

Black hair that was deeper than the night sky. Clear eyes that were darker than a black pearl.

Both equally beautiful, yet possessing contrasting types of beauty: When the two young women stood together, it seemed only to heighten their individual radiances.

Their looks alone were enough to be the subject of conversation, but…

“Here I come, Miyuki.”

“I’m ready anytime. You may do the countdown.”

Now, they stood facing each other, separated by three yards.

Between them, a one-inch metal ball sat atop a slender pole.

Several similar fixtures were set up in the practice room, but all their classmates stopped what they were doing to watch them.

No, not only their classmates.

The viewing seats up on a mezzanine making a circuit around the room were packed with seniors who were no longer required to attend school now that all their mandatory classes were completed.

Mayumi and Mari were among them.

“…You think her magic power really rivals Shiba’s?”

“In a way, she came to Japan representing America, so I don’t think it’s impossible. But it’s hard to believe it so suddenly—magic ability on par with Miyuki’s in someone of the same age?”

“Agreed. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Well, that is why we came to take a look, after all.”

This practice would be a simple and highly gamelike exercise, where the two girls would use their CADs at the same time, each aiming to be the first to control the metal ball in the middle. Its simplicity would highlight pure power differential and nothing more.

The students had begun this exercise last month, and none of Miyuki’s classmates could come anywhere close to beating her. There was such a difference in their magic power that even the instructors were forced to admit the exercise would be pointless for both her and her opponents.

After hearing about it, student council members old and new (plus the disciplinary committee chairwoman) took turns challenging her; that none of them could hold a candle to her was now a badly kept secret at First High.

Crushed without difficulty, their pride as upperclassmen in pieces (though Miyuki was very humble about her victories), Mayumi and Mari joining the others in spectating was only natural.

“Three, two, one…” counted down Lina in English.

The CAD they would use was a panel interface, fixed in place. When Lina said “one,” they both held a hand over the panel.

“Go!”

The last signal was given by both voices.

Miyuki’s fingers touched the panel, and Lina’s palm slammed it.

Static and dynamic—their start-up methods reflected their colors exactly.

But the contrast was merely physical.

A flash of psionic light burst over the metal target.

Because the light was invisible to the naked eye, shutting your eyelids would be ineffective. Viewers less experienced with external magical influence–restraining techniques massaged their temples and shook their heads to clear them.

The glow vanished in an instant. The metal ball rolled toward Lina.

“Agh, I lost again!”

“Hee-hee. That’s two wins in a row, Lina.”

Lina making a grand show of frustration, and Miyuki giving a somewhat relieved smile: As one could see from their attitudes, the unofficial match had ended in Miyuki’s victory. However, from the tone in which the “two in a row” comment had been spoken, you didn’t get the impression that it was an overwhelming defeat. After all…

“…They were exactly equal,” breathed Mayumi.

“In fact, wasn’t the transfer student slightly faster triggering the spell?”

“Yes. But Miyuki’s influence was higher, so she took control before the spell was complete. You can prioritize speed, or prioritize power… This isn’t so much a victory of pure force as a victory won through tactics.”

From both Mayumi and Mari’s point of view, their magic power—at least, their pure magic power for basic, single-type spells—was equal.

After that, within their allotted time, they did the exercise four more times, the score for which was two to two, making today’s winner Miyuki by two wins.

That afternoon, it was business as usual in the school cafeteria.

Lina was sitting with them again today, though she hadn’t done so every day. She’d had several invitations from here and there during the week after she transferred in, and she ate with different people each day.

Broadening her cultural exchange with others could be called the model attitude for a transfer student. This was actually the first time she was eating with Tatsuya’s group again since her first day.

“You’re very popular, Lina.”

“Thanks. I’m glad everyone here is so kind.”

Erika’s compliment had nothing hidden beneath the surface, and instead of pointlessly getting embarrassed or acting modest, Lina gave an indifferent response. The attitude was both personal and a product of national character, and it came off as new and fresh for Tatsuya’s group (minus Erika).

“You were more amazing than we thought, Lina. I mean, they chose you to study abroad and everything, so I figured you were the real deal, but I never thought you’d be able to compete with Miyuki on even terms.”

“I’m actually surprised myself.”

At Mikihiko’s compliment, Lina’s eyes widened in a slight overreaction as she expressed her surprise. As an aside, Mikihiko seemed to find Lina easier to talk to than Miyuki, and though he still spoke stiffly to the latter, he’d started to loosen up with the former.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I was undefeated at the high school level in the States. But I just couldn’t seem to win out over Miyuki. Even with Honoka, I wouldn’t lose in overall ability, but I would when it comes to precise control. Japan really is the great land of magic.”

“Lina, that was just a training session, not a competition. I don’t think you should care so much about winning or losing.”

“But competition is important. It might be practice, but they purposely put something so much like a game into the curriculum. I think fussing over winning and losing will help us get better.”

At Miyuki’s gentle admonishment, Lina made a frontal objection, unafraid of conflict.

That must have been her way of doing things. This part of her, too, felt somewhat fresh.

“It’s important to have a sense of competition while you’re in the heat of things. But there’s no reason to take it out of the practice room, is there? Exercises are only exercises—they’re not like practical tests, which are connected to your grades.”

So Tatsuya, too, decided to offer his own unreserved opinion.

“…Yes, maybe you’re right, Tatsuya. Maybe I was getting a little too into it.”

“It’s not a bad thing. Miyuki will have more motivation now that she has a new rival. On that point, I’m grateful to have you here, Lina.”

Lina nodded without comment at first but then returned a blank stare.

“There it is—Tatsuya’s sister complex returns,” said Erika from next to her, giving an exaggerated sigh.

“O-oh, I see… Tatsuya and Miyuki do seem close.”

To Tatsuya, beneath the innocuous comment, the temperature of Lina’s gaze felt like it had rapidly decreased.

“By the way, Lina, and this isn’t important or anything, but…” He got the feeling the conversation was headed in a bad direction, so he tried to change the topic.

“What is it?” She turned an icy gaze on him. Still, it didn’t seem like she was truly scorning him; he could spot a bit of acting. She was probably going along with Erika’s joke.

He had no guarantee that wasn’t just an optimistic outlook, but Tatsuya wasn’t petty enough to grimace and stop talking at something like this.

“I thought the nickname for Angelina was Angie. Did I remember wrong?”

The question shouldn’t have bothered her.

At the very least, Erika, Mizuki, and Honoka, who were sitting with them, thought as much.

But for just a moment, an unmistakable consternation crossed her face.

“No, you’re not. But it’s not unusual to shorten it to Lina, either. In elementary school, there was a girl in the same class named Angela, and we called her Angie, so…”

“So you came to be called Lina instead of Angie?” Tatsuya nodded, appearing convinced.

…Without letting on that he’d noticed her panic.

There were no dormitories at First High.

Out of necessity for the magic high schools, of which there were only nine in the country, some students enrolled from far away.

Thinking about it that way, it wouldn’t seem strange to have dormitories, but in this day and age, aside from special schools with all-dorm systems placing heavy emphasis on the dorms as a learning environment, you never saw any such facilities. In an age where HARs had become normal household items and groceries could be bought online and delivered to your doorstep, students had no trouble whatsoever living on their own, so there was no demand for dormitories.

Thus, most students who couldn’t commute from home rented a place near school. It wasn’t unnatural for Lina, a transfer student, to rent an apartment. Her room was two stations from the school by train—right nearby, given transportation in the modern era. She was renting not a single-person one-room apartment for students, but one big enough for a small family, because she wasn’t living on her own.

“Welcome back, Lina.”

“You’re home early, Silvie.”

When she opened the apartment’s front door, her aide for this mission, Warrant Officer Silvia, came out as though she’d been waiting for her.

“It’s already night, you know.”

Lina, who had taken several detours, gave a small, pained grin at the retort. While she was still in her uniform, they moved to the dining room. And there…

“I didn’t know you were coming today, Mia.”

…a young woman with a tense expression greeted Lina. She was standing in front of the table, probably because she’d just been talking to Silvia.

“Yes, Major. I hope I’m not intruding, ma’am.”

The woman called Mia answered in a nervous voice. Lina gave a troubled smile, then sat down at the table.

“Please, sit, Mia. Silvie, would you mind making tea?”

Normally, Silvia would have thought nothing of their rank difference and responded, “You’re a girl, so you should at least make your own tea.” But she could also read the situation.

“Is milk tea fine? Mia, would you like some more?”

“Ah, yes, ma’am. Thank you,” answered Mia in a reserved manner, although her tension had loosened quite a bit.

Her name was Mikaela Hongou, nicknamed Mia. Like Lina, she was a Japanese American, but unlike with Lina, you couldn’t tell her apart from other Japanese people. At most, her skin was a little dark, but even that wasn’t particularly unusual in Japan.

She was one of the spies they’d sent into Japan ahead of Lina and Silvia. Still, spying wasn’t her main profession; her main job was as a Department of Defense magic scientist who researched emission-type magic, a girl of talent who had even taken part in the black hole experiment in November in Dallas. Since the Dallas experiment hadn’t yielded many results, she’d requested this mission to search for a method of nonannihilation mass-energy conversion.

As was the case with many magic scientists, she was a magician herself. Unlike the fake students who had arrived in Japan under the pretense of collaborative research starting this month, she had infiltrated the Magic University as Mia Hongou, a sales engineer from Maximillian Devices’ Japan branch, at the beginning of last month. Incidentally, her room was the one next to the one Lina was renting. Neither combat nor intelligence personnel, she was strictly part of the support staff, but also one of the “main team,” working on their original goal—espionage activity—behind the scenes. She was supporting the members who had, in a way, waltzed right up to the front door this month.

“Have you found something out?”

Lina asked Silvie, who had finished arranging the teacups on the table and sat down.

“I’m going back over official databases, but at this time, I haven’t found any new information.”

“I see. I doubted you would get results that quickly.” Next, Lina looked over to Mikaela. “What about you, Mia?”

“It’s the same for me, ma’am… I’m sorry.”

After seeming to have relaxed a bit, Mikaela tensed up again.

With her getting so nervous, Lina felt like she was bullying the poor girl, so she backed off. But when Lina had first come to Japan at the end of the year, the Mikaela she’d met had been even shakier and tenser than now. Despite the difference between a scientist and a warrior, Lina was the Sirius, the top of the USNA’s magicians—and in her middle teens. Telling Mia not to be nervous wouldn’t work. Lina and Mia could have slightly friendlier conversation now that two weeks had passed since Lina’s arrival, but only when they stuck to topics regarding daily life. Lina persuaded herself that was enough, since when it came to discussing their mission, Silvia’s frank attitude wasn’t the best thing, either.

“What about you, Lina?” Silvia asked. “Have you gotten a little friendlier with the targets?”

Lina’s face clouded over. “I think I’ve gotten a little closer with them, but…” She sighed, then let out a weak smile. “Still nothing vital. In fact, I think they’ll realize who I am before I uncover anything.”

“…Did something happen?”

“Tatsuya asked me why my nickname wasn’t Angie instead of Lina. It scared me for a second!”

“Was it a coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I have no clue. I’m really not cut out for this, am I…?”

Lina heaved another sigh as Silvia poured more milk tea into her cup. Silvia and Mikaela looked at her worriedly. When she noticed that, Lina energized herself. “…It’s fine. They’re just high school kids. There’s no way they seriously think that I’m Sirius. Even if they had suspicions, I’d never let them catch on.”

A valiant comment at first, but it was clearly a bluff. To begin with, Lina was the one who was supposed to be catching on to them. That she felt the need to declare that she wouldn’t let them get the best of her was fairly telling. Silvia realized it, too, but didn’t say anything, maybe deciding it was better than Lina getting depressed over it.

However, she pointedly failed to mention that her targets weren’t just any high school kids.

He handed a gown to his sister as she rose from the examination bed, fitted with only a psiometer (a psionic wave measurement device) and her undergarments. Tatsuya’s android-like poker face from during the examination dissolved into a slightly anxious look, but it was still enough for Miyuki’s eyes to catch it.

“…Is something not to your satisfaction? Brother, please, do not hesitate to tell me. I would do anything you tell me to do.”

Still, that was an overreaction—or, rather, simply an extreme reaction overall. Feeling such, Tatsuya gave a dry smile, his expression hard to read, like he was unable to decide what countenance to put forth.

“No, if something isn’t to my satisfaction, it’s on me this time. The upper limit on your magic program construction scope has leveled up beyond my expectations. Because of that, your CAD’s processing power can’t keep up with your magical power. I thought I’d given it some room to grow when I set it up, but…I didn’t think far enough ahead.”

“I’m sorry…” she sighed, hanging her head.

“Why are you sorry? You should be proud.” Tatsuya tousled her hair, and when she looked up, he smiled gently.

Infected by the smile, or in response to it, she gave her own smile as well, which was all well and good, but…

…You’re not supposed to blush for that.

Sensing danger in the silence—mainly from her chest peeking through the gown seam—Tatsuya continued, his words somewhat hurried, “It looks like Lina being in your class is a good incentive for you.”

The instant Lina’s name came out, the mist dispersed from the flushed Miyuki’s eyes.

“Yes… This may be forward of me, but I’ve never had anyone as strong as her to go up against.”

And this wasn’t because he’d offended her. Miyuki wasn’t an unreasonable girl—she wouldn’t flare up whenever she heard another girl’s name come out of Tatsuya’s mouth. The sense of transparency she gave off, which made even her expression look cold, was rooted in a different cause.

Currently, her eyes were filled with a quiet fighting spirit. “By the way, Brother, your question of her at lunch—I would presume, well…”

“It was that obvious, huh?” said Tatsuya with a chuckle before erasing his smile. “Yes, I do believe Lina is Sirius,” he announced plainly. “I really can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

As Tatsuya brought up his hands and smiled again, Miyuki’s expression dissolved into a mischievous grin, and she pointed her index finger at him like she was posing. “Well, of course. Miyuki watches you more than anyone else, Brother.”

Tatsuya seemed to force himself to laugh, but was it because he thought it was a joke, or because he’d decided to make it one?

As she laughed along with her brother, she thought to herself that she wanted to know how he really felt.

The basement (or perhaps one should say “underground facility”) was climate controlled, but both of them would be restless with her in just underwear and a gown. After Miyuki changed out of her dressing gown, they moved to the living room.

Covering her slender legs were neither black leggings nor tights, but long socks. Her skirt hem was gently ruffled out and very short, and between it and her socks, her fair skin came in and out of sight.

If she was wearing that while standing upright, and then sat down or bent forward, wouldn’t that be fairly bad? That’s what Tatsuya thought, without thinking too hard about what exactly would be “bad.”

In ignorance of her brother’s thoughts—though he had no way of verifying whether she really didn’t know—Miyuki placed a coffee cup in front of him, and, just for today, sat down not next to him but on the sofa across from him.

Then, she did nothing so free-spirited as crossing her legs.

She put her knees properly together, leaning them at an angle.

It was a considerably sexier pose than one that would have given him a peek under her skirt.

Tatsuya, who didn’t understand Miyuki’s intent (though he may have understood her surface intent, he didn’t know what lay behind it), decided not to make her any more flushed.

As soon as he decided not to concern himself with it, the instability vanished from his eyes.

He got a quick glimpse of a somewhat dissatisfied look from Miyuki across the table, but he simply looked at her and spoke.

“Getting back to the previous topic, I believe with high certainty that Lina is Angie Sirius.”

Two months ago, while the Stars—the USNA Army’s magician force—was investigating the truth behind his strategic spell Material Burst, he’d received a warning from his aunt, Maya Yotsuba. At the time, she had also spoken of the fact that he and Miyuki had been designated targets of the Stars’ information war as suspects. Tatsuya had been thinking Lina transferring to First High was part of that initiative.

“What I don’t understand is how they don’t seem to be trying to hide Sirius’s identity whatsoever. It almost seems as though they’re trying to get us to realize.”

It was only natural he wouldn’t understand. Even Tatsuya couldn’t have speculated the reason was that Lina’s personal—or rather, mental—guard was more lax than even the USNA Army imagined.

“And…” If he’d known the truth, laughing would have been his only recourse, but he continued his deduction, expression serious.

“Why would the USNA send in Sirius, who is essentially their trump card?” Miyuki had already switched mental gears and answered her brother seriously.

“That’s right,” Tatsuya remarked. “Simply based on our observations this week, Lina’s abilities don’t seem to be geared toward espionage work. Their true intentions probably lie elsewhere, but using her as their spy, of all people?”

“Sirius is too important…”

“If we assume that Lina is Sirius…then her spy mission would be secondary. Their real mission is something else.”

“But what on earth could be so important that the USNA would send Sirius outside the country?”

At this point, they were overthinking things. Though, they had no way of knowing that.

“I don’t know…but I don’t think we need to let it bother us at this stage.”

From an omnipotent viewpoint, his deduction was off the mark; but as it came out of Tatsuya’s mouth, his tension suddenly deflated—

“America’s done us the honor of providing you with a rival, Miyuki.”

—but that wasn’t to say that his seriousness disappeared as well. In fact, his voice was earnest.

“Yes, Brother,” answered Miyuki in a formal tone, to his equally earnest gaze.

“Compete with Lina with everything you have. I know what I said before, but if she’s going to get caught up with wins and losses, that will work in your favor. It will help push you to greater heights.”

“Yes.”

“Lina stands to grow just as much from competing with you. But you don’t have to worry about that. This sort of chance rarely comes.”

At his firm instructions, Miyuki gave a quiet smile without a single shadow of unease. “Yes,” she said. “And I have you, Brother. As long as you do me the honor of remaining at my side, I have nothing to fear—not even Sirius.”

Tatsuya had meant what he’d said in the sense of a competition partner, not a true opponent.

He couldn’t deny that he felt Miyuki’s words were slightly off-kilter.

But at the unflinching trust she showed in him, he nodded without hesitation.

After-school hours for Tatsuya came in many variations, but they had two main patterns—either he shut himself up in the school’s library, or he patrolled the halls as a disciplinary committee member. Usually, in the latter case, a veritable barrage of events occurred.

Enough to make him think it was actually a conspiracy.

And on this day, he felt that way more strongly than ever before.

Disciplinary committee members were granted the special right to carry their CADs on their person at all times, but aside from when he was doing a job for the committee, Tatsuya didn’t use that right.

CADs were originally tools for activating typed spells in a short time; although they could be used with other magic, such as typeless magic, outer magic, and old magic, when it came to simple things—especially in typeless magic’s case, such as simply emitting psions—forgoing a CAD wouldn’t restrict a person very much.

Tatsuya, who had himself revealed at the Nine School Competition—unfortunately—that he could use dismantling magic, was mainly using typeless magic outside class during the second term. That suited his purposes quite nicely, so there was no practical need for him to carry a CAD.

Still, he equipped himself with the disciplinary committee’s spare CADs when patrolling, mainly as an intimidation tactic, since you couldn’t make light of a CAD even if using it was a feint. So, before going on indoors patrol, Tatsuya would stop by the disciplinary committee office and wrap one around each arm. He’d made a habit of it.

As usual, after classes had ended this day, he’d walked to the disciplinary committee HQ—only to find Lina there. Even from a distance, there was no mistaking her beautiful golden locks. The premonition of trouble on the job almost made him do a U-turn, but he suppressed the impulse and made an effort to speak to her like normal.

“Good morning.”

He’d gotten used to how the disciplinary committee members greeted everyone with that regardless of the time of day. He slipped through the crowd of people—well, at a glance, there were only five—and quickly ran through his preparations.

“Ah, Shiba, hold on.”

Tragically, though, Kanon caught him. He didn’t let the despair show on his face; such were the benefits (?) of his daily training here.

“What is it?”

His voice carried an utter lack of both subjective and objective enthusiasm. The fact that Kanon didn’t care one bit about that, though, was both one of her charming points and one of her flaws.

“You know Shields here, right?”

A conclusion in the form of a question. Tatsuya had no choice but to nod, of course.

“She wants to observe the disciplinary committee’s activity; she says she wants to see the way Japan’s magic high school students govern themselves. You’re on duty today, right, Shiba? Could you take her along with you?”

If you want to make this harder for me, Tatsuya thought. He didn’t know Lina’s intent, but he felt there was a high chance of something truly troublesome happening. That was clear, considering all the male students surrounding Lina (who were all upperclassmen) were currently giving him very unamused looks. Being in the disciplinary committee would spare him from any jealous stares for the moment, but if he paraded around the halls side by side with Lina, he couldn’t even begin to guess at the beds of nails he’d fall onto afterward. However, there was enough rationale behind Tatsuya being picked for the request itself, so…

“All right.”

There was no choice for Tatsuya but to give up and accept it.

She’d only just transferred in, so this wasn’t particularly surprising, but it would be his first time alone with Lina. Students roamed the school building, so strictly speaking they wouldn’t be completely alone, but the awkwardness would remain, regardless of how popular she was.

In Tatsuya’s defense, it wasn’t going to be awkward for him because Lina was drop-dead gorgeous. It was because Lina wasn’t completely hiding the fact that she’d come to scope him out. She might have been intending to conceal her stolen glances at him, but from his point of view, it was all out in the open.

Still, it wasn’t as though Tatsuya could come out and call her a spy, so the murky stress kept on piling up inside him like the ashes from a volcano.

“Did the school you went to not have a system like this?”

But he couldn’t retreat into silence forever, either (even though they’d only gone some ten yards away from the disciplinary committee office at this point). Wondering why the quiet felt so heavy, he did something unusual and did her the favor of bringing up the topic himself—though thinking calmly on it, it was a pretty mean-spirited question.

“Huh? Umm…”

He only realized it was mean when he saw Lina clearly at a loss.

He’d heard that the various people who were Sirius were traditionally combat magicians who stuck purely to the front lines; Lina, at the very least, probably hadn’t received any espionage training whatsoever. Tatsuya started to feel very whatever about the situation.

“…I guess a freshman wouldn’t really know about that stuff.”

He started to feel sorry watching Lina like that, so he gave her a little help. He didn’t need to expose her identity, and he’d rather she not get defiant.

“W-well, no, they wouldn’t. I wanted to know more about how this school does things, since they let you be a part of these activities in your first year.”

She had a slight susceptibility to letting on too much about herself, but this part of her made Tatsuya think she was smart.

Even though it was after the fact, she connected the pieces.

She might be even more quick-witted than my sister…

As expected, the piercing eyes stung, but nobody actually resorted to force, perhaps realizing they couldn’t show any shameful behavior to the transfer student.

With Lina in tow, he patrolled mainly the practice rooms and the science labs. He explained them to her like it was just another tour of the school.

At the edge of the special lab building, where it descended into the back schoolyard, Lina stopped.

“Are you tired? Should we go back?”

Of course, he knew she hadn’t stopped for something like that. He just decided to say it as a way into conversation.

“No, I’m fine,” came the reply, somewhat stiffly.

“What is it?” he prompted.

Lina pushed her hesitation away. “Tatsuya, you’re an alternate—a Course Two, right?”

“Yes, why?”

It had been a long time since someone had said that to his face. Rather than giving him that not again feeling, it actually felt new to him, so he asked what she meant by it.

“I was wondering why your uniform is different from everyone in Class A. Miyuki sounded unhappy when she explained it.”

As though remembering it, Lina let out a giggle. It was, indeed, a very Miyuki-like episode, and Tatsuya could only smile painfully.

“But when I asked Kanon, she said you were top class in First High when it came to the real thing.”

The way she pronounced the name sounded like cannon to Tatsuya’s ears—instead of kah-nohn—but he decided to interpret it not as cannon but as canon, as in the hymn, which would make more sense given the mystical origins of the name, and ignored it—he would feel bad for Kanon if it was the former.

Because he was thinking about unnecessary things, he was late understanding what Lina was trying to say.

“Tatsuya, why are you pretending to be a poor student—an Irregular? And why do you show your true strength so easily? It’s like everything you do is all jumbled up. I just don’t get why you act like that.”

He listened to the end and finally understood what she meant. “I don’t know what Chiyoda told you, but I’m not pretending. I really am a poor student.”

Fortunately, thanks to her explaining her question so well, it wasn’t much work to put together an answer, but if she hadn’t, it could have been a major hole in his facade. I should refrain from thinking about unnecessary things, he thought.

“The practical skill tests evaluate speed, scope, and intensity. The test is based on the international standard. But in real combat, those three things aren’t the only things that decide if you win or lose. After all, physical ability is an important factor in battle, too. What I mean is, I might be a poor student when it comes to the practical testing, but I’m good in a fight.”

That was the excuse he always used—but it was also the undebatable truth. Tatsuya had no doubt this would wrap everything up nicely for her, or let him off the hook, at least.

“…I agree. I think test-taking skill and real skill are different things.”

So Lina saying that was completely unexpected. What was she getting at?

“In the future, I’d like to be a magician who can be useful in real combat, not just a bright student.”

An aura of dubiousness began to waver around Lina.

“How disquieting.” The warmth—the heat—from Tatsuya’s eyes vanished.

“Oh, you understand? That’s amazing.” Presented with his gaze of ice, or rather steel, Lina gave a brilliant smile.

Not a flowerlike smile, but one with the kind of beauty a sharpened blade might have.

Lina’s hand shot upward.

Tatsuya saw the heel of her palm fly at him. With minimal movement, he caught her right hand, thrust sharply out, by its wrist. The palm strike aimed at his jaw was stopped in front of his throat.

Lina made her right hand into a finger gun and shoved her index finger up. A finely shaped nail plunged toward his face.

Tatsuya twisted Lina’s right hand to the outside.

Her face clenched, and the psionic light gathering at her outstretched fingertip dispersed before firing.

“That was dangerous.”

“I thought I could get away.”

“I hope you’re ready to explain yourself.”

“Could you let go of me first? This kind of hurts. And it’s a little embarrassing to stand like this.”

Because he’d twisted her hand up and out to the side, the distance between Tatsuya and Lina’s bodies had closed a fair bit. Depending on your perspective, their position might make it look like he was assaulting her—like he was forcing a kiss on her.

As soon as she said so, Tatsuya let go of her hand…but not a fragment of embarrassment was on his face.

“That really hurt. It… Well, it didn’t bruise. How did you control your power like that?” As she rubbed her right wrist with her left hand, she rolled up her sleeve, then made her surprise evident.

“You tried to bust a hole in my face. I would think a little bit of pain is only natural in return.”

“It was just a clump of psionic particles. It wasn’t physically lethal. At most, it would just make you feel like you’d been shot.”

“And that isn’t enough of a reason for me to treat you roughly?”

She’d given him an ingratiating smile, but his expression didn’t loosen.

Lina sighed and held up her hands. “All right, I get it. Please, I beg your forgiveness for my rudeness, good sir Tatsuya.”

She bowed politely to him, renewing her attitude. When she looked back up, there was an odd twist in Tatsuya’s lips, which had been tightly drawn back until now.

“…Something else?”

“…No, don’t mind me. And could you speak normally? When you pretend to be elegant like that, you’re like a different person.”

The twist at the corners of Tatsuya’s mouth seemed to be because he didn’t think it suited her.

“Are you saying I’m not elegant?!”

“It’s out of character.”

He was slightly worried that she wouldn’t understand his usage of the Japanese loanword kyara for character, but he decided she was fluent enough with Japanese that it wouldn’t be a problem and saved himself the trouble of rephrasing.

And, for better or worse, she understood without an issue: “That isn’t true! I was invited to have tea with the president once, you know!” she cried, letting herself get carried away as she emphasized just how “high society” she was.

“Really, now…” smirked Tatsuya upon hearing it. A chilling aura emanated from his grin.

Lina reflexively covered her mouth. The expression Tatsuya had just given her looked like the smile of Mephistopheles.

“The president, hm…?”

Many people in power avoided magicians who could kill without a weapon. In Japan, this barrier around politicians was actually less overbearing than other places; there were some countries where magicians were forbidden to come closer than a set distance to politicians unless they voluntarily imbibed a slow-acting poison that could only be treated with regular periodic administrations of an antidote.

As for magicians who could meet the president of the USNA personally…

“You tricked me, didn’t you…?”

Lina glared at him, frustrated. But she’d read too far into it.

“You wound me. The conversation going that way was pure coincidence. In fact, this was more like you self-destructing, wasn’t it? You were the one who attacked me, after all.”

This is what it meant to be at a loss for words. The only thing Lina could do was continue staring, mortified, at him.

“And? Would you explain why you did something like that?”

“…I wanted to know how skilled you are.”

“How skilled I am? For what?” He frowned, dubious.

Lina looked away. “Nothing, really… Just curious.”

“Curious… Let’s leave it at that, then, shall we?” said Tatsuya, having seen through her clear evasion.

She sniffed, as though sulking. “…If I must say,” she began, moving her gaze back to him. “I was wondering if you’d come to the States.”

“Me? To America?”

“If you don’t get good grades even though you’re really good, I just thought maybe you’d want to be somewhere where you could be seen as better for what you do. The international standard is the mainstay in the States for magician ranks, too, but not in certain places. The USNA is a free country, and it’s even more diverse. You would be able to get the evaluation you deserve.”

“That’s a very interesting thought.” The unexpected invitation seemed to have softened Tatsuya’s attitude slightly.

Lina pressed on, sensing it was working. “Then—”

“If I can take that at face value.” But Tatsuya spoiled her enthusiasm with a sardonic tone. “Lina, where exactly do they not use the mainstay for measurement? Are you talking about Arlington?”

Arlington, once a military academy, was now the biggest supply of magicians and magic engineers for the USNA Army.

“…Yes. But that’s not the only—”

“Lina, standards of evaluation are for choosing who is right for a specific purpose.” But though Tatsuya’s tone may have been cold, there was none of the skin-crawling chill in it. “In the sense of choosing suitable magicians for the armed forces, Arlington isn’t all that different than Japan’s National Defense Academy. Though I suppose they have a wider reach.”

If anything, he looked as though he were teasing a friend.

“Well, whatever.”

“Huh…?”

And then, suddenly, he muttered, sounding like he really didn’t care about any of this.

Lina, who couldn’t keep up with the sudden shift, could only express her confusion through her voice and expression.

“Lina, you wanted to test my skills. Is that right?”

“Y-yes…”

“Then this incident is over. Please stop doing things like this from now on.”

Shall we be going back now? he asked with a look, his expression now exactly the same as usual.

At least, Lina couldn’t tell the difference between it and how he usually seemed.

“You’re not going to ask?”

She could understand that Tatsuya was trying to pretend that entire thing never happened. That, of course, would be better for Lina. But she couldn’t figure his intentions in doing such a thing.

Tatsuya had said he wouldn’t question her, but even knowing she might bring his goodwill to naught, she couldn’t help but ask the question.

“Ask what?”

“Ask what…? Like my identity… You don’t want to make sure of it?”

“I don’t care. There’s plenty of things in the world people are better off not knowing.”

Lina couldn’t tell if that was self-concealment or what he truly felt. This person, Tatsuya Shiba, was too far beyond comprehensible for her.

“…You’re a jerk, you know that?”

She glared at him with upturned eyes, muttering. Tatsuya lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

As she followed behind him, she was aware that the word she had used, jerk, certainly didn’t have a simple meaning.