April 6, 2096, the first day of the new school year. Tatsuya and Miyuki had gone to school, leaving Minami at home. The adverbial phrase for the first time in a while wasn’t attached to that because they’d been back and forth from school frequently over spring break for preliminary student council meetings.

Today and tomorrow would be the last two days the siblings would be going to school by themselves. Miyuki, as though conscious of that, walked closer to Tatsuya than she usually did on the short road between the station and school. Seen from afar—or rather, unless seen from right up close, they were so near each other one might have thought their arms linked as they walked.

Among the admittedly small student population at Magic High School, the two were now firmly entrenched as celebrities. Almost no students were left who didn’t know that they were siblings. More than a few people with common sense frowned at the immoral act of displaying themselves like lovers when they were blood relations, but nobody was stalwart enough (or rather, boorish enough) to speak up and criticize them. Still, there was certainly no lack of appalled eyes directed at them.

Of course, Miyuki wasn’t one to let things like that—gazes simply watching from a distance—get to her. Anyone who couldn’t say something to her face was, to her, nothing but rabble. In fact, she’d already garnered enough attention that the amount of time she spent not being looked at was shorter. For her, there was no point in worrying about every single person’s stare. There would be no end to it.

Tatsuya, on the other hand, couldn’t afford to ignore other people watching like his sister could. After all, he was Miyuki’s bodyguard; he would protect her from any and all harmful intent. It was both the duty he’d been assigned and a right he couldn’t surrender. He couldn’t overlook any malice directed at his sister.

That wasn’t actually very difficult, in the end, since the inconsequential malicious stares were always directed at Tatsuya himself, not at Miyuki.

It was hard for anyone to look at Miyuki in a negative way. For example, one might harbor envy toward her, but one would never direct it at her. Her appearance and talents were both so dazzling that the very thought of directing envy at her made people feel humbled. Diffident—and then they would hate themselves for their diffidence, and be caught in the swamp. One needed very firm, strong willpower to direct any negativity at Miyuki Shiba.

So it was certainly not a coincidence when Tatsuya noticed it happening.

A gaze on her, not with the vivid hostility that came with rigid determination, but one still not at all well disposed. This stare that was being directed at Miyuki was a rare sort, and it was even less ordinary considering it came from a member of the opposite sex—a boy.

Tatsuya remembered the boy’s appearance from somewhere. They’d never met face-to-face, but Tatsuya had looked over his history, which had included a stereoscopic image. He was one year younger, the representative of this year’s freshmen.

…I think that’s the eldest son of the Shippou.

He almost scowled unconsciously, but he concentrated and stopped his expression from changing. He hadn’t wanted to put the boy on his guard with an overreaction, but Takuma, perhaps realizing Tatsuya had glanced at him, looked away and disappeared into a small street between two stores.

“Brother?” asked Miyuki doubtfully.

A moment later, she keenly picked up on a fragment of her brother’s awareness turning away from her. She could ignore stares from the rabble, but not when one of those took Tatsuya’s.

Tatsuya shook his head and said, “It’s nothing,” then, glancing over his shoulder, raised a hand when a certain redhead hailed them with “Good morning!” from behind.

Following Erika, they met up with Leo, Honoka, Shizuku, Mizuki, and Mikihiko. It wasn’t unusual for them to be together when leaving school, but it had been some time since they were all together on their way there. Shizuku especially—they hadn’t walked to school with her since the end of last year, before she went to study abroad.

This meant the gang was back together at last, but though their members were the same as before, certain ones had a different uniform design from those they’d been wearing until last month—in other words, as freshmen.

On Tatsuya’s breast was an emblem of an eight-toothed gear.

The same design was embroidered on Mizuki’s blazer.

And on Mikihiko’s left breast was First High’s school symbol—an eight-petaled flower.

“Mikihiko, how does it feel to be wearing a Course 1 uniform?” asked Tatsuya, smirking in a mean kind of congratulations.

“Quit teasing me, Tatsuya,” he answered, giving a pained grin but not appearing altogether uncomfortable. They’d learned Mikihiko would be transferring into Course 1 the previous month, but this was the first time they were seeing each other’s new uniforms.

“What about you—how does your brand-new blazer fit?”

“I guess it’s new, but it’s really just a billboard at this point.”

Mikihiko’s words had implicitly mentioned the newly established magical engineering curriculum. Tatsuya’s words in response had indicated that it was still only a name, and that independent classes had yet to start. Still, independent classes along with everything else would be getting off the mark today. Nevertheless, the school hadn’t revealed the teaching staff until today, the day classes began. He couldn’t deny feeling like the school hadn’t prepared well enough. His line that only a signboard had changed had been a joke, too, but it wasn’t without basis.

“Well, that sure is sobering.”

But his calm, or rather uncaring, attitude seemed to have belied his friends’ expectations. They knew he wasn’t the kind of person to jump for joy at the class split, but they’d probably envisioned him being at least a little excited.

“Seriously. When Mizuki over here is smiling away, too.”

After Leo, Erika grumbled about it. Her bored sidelong glare was on Tatsuya, but the arrow of her gaze was going through him to pierce the one on the other side.

“I…I am not!” protested Mizuki defensively. She thought she’d been showing consideration toward their friends who were still Course 2 students (meaning Erika and Leo). But her face was, at Erika’s mention of her, colored with an expression of happiness she couldn’t quite hide.

“You don’t need to force it,” said Erika with a mean grin—from which, as far as anyone could see, it was doubtless that Mizuki never needed to be so careful with her friends.

The magical engineering classroom was next to the central staircase on the main building’s third story. The class’s letter was E. In other words, Tatsuya and Mizuki were directly above the classroom they’d been in the previous month.

Meanwhile, Erika and Leo were both in Class F. When they learned that after exchanging info on their homerooms, which they’d been notified of via intraschool wireless, the two of them made a show of looking incredibly unhappy. Was it how they truly felt, or just them trying to hide embarrassment…? Only they knew, and Tatsuya, at least, didn’t really care that much. Mizuki and Honoka seemed to find it very interesting, though.

When Tatsuya entered the classroom, half of the seats were filled. They were arranged five by five, same as last year, and the alphabetically ordered seating arrangement was the same as when they’d been freshmen, too. Still, was there a special reason they weren’t separated by gender, instead alphabetically ordered by Japanese pronunciation starting at the front of the room and going across, or was it just caprice?

Cutting off his meaningless line of questioning within a single second, Tatsuya headed to his seat. He was at the column nearest the hallway, second seat from the front. Next to him was Mizuki, same as last year. Considering their last names were Shiba and Shibata, this was neither confusing nor a surprise.

“Mizuki, you’re sitting next to Tatsuya this year again, huh? Maybe I should have put in to switch classes, too.”

That complaint, the tone of which made it sound like it wasn’t necessarily a joke, came from Erika, who was leaning on her elbows on the rail of the hallway window, which was wide open.

“Why bother? We’re right next door,” continued Leo, squirming himself between the window frame and Erika to peek in, a hint of disappointment underneath his words.

“True. Being in separate classes isn’t any trouble.”

One year ago, the scene would definitely have turned into a stream of inflammatory responses, but Leo wasn’t trying to pick a fight, and Erika wasn’t trying to buy into it. The change was a little bit funny to Tatsuya, but without showing even a slight hint of it, he agreed with what Leo had said—or at least, what he’d said on the surface.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re not allowed to go into other classrooms,” Tatsuya noted.

“We’re just having class in a different room, that’s all,” Mizuki cut in.

Mizuki immediately chimed in agreement with Tatsuya, which was presumably because she thought he was trying to keep Erika in check. Still, even though Erika seemed like the free-spirited, adventurous type, she’d almost never escaped the classroom. Tatsuya had gotten out during class time far more times than she had.

“That’s true.”

Erika probably didn’t feel like she was being criticized, so she easily agreed with what Mizuki said.

“Anyway…” said Erika, switching gears and looking around the classroom. “There’s a bunch of people here I don’t recognize.”

Erika, who was outwardly a sociable person, knew the names and faces of most of the other hundred Course 2 students in their year. That meant any she didn’t recognize must have formerly been in Course 1.

“Yeah, now that you mention it…it’s a little unexpected.”

The students in the classroom steadily increased as the beginning of classes grew nearer; now two-thirds of the seats were full. Leo was, unlike Erika, actually sociable, and as he looked around at the faces again, he agreed with her, his voice filled with surprise.

The two of them—and Mizuki as well, for whom Erika’s words didn’t quite make sense—had predicted most of those wishing to transfer after the magical engineering program’s establishment would be kids from Course 2. They hadn’t thought any prideful Course 1 students would decide to sit at desks right next to Course 2 ones.

For Tatsuya, the Course 1 students transferring wasn’t surprising or anything, but he could perfectly understand why Erika and the others would think that, so he didn’t put in any comment.

“By the way,” said Erika, switching topics, “she’s really got an eye out for you, Tatsuya.”

Tatsuya gave a light shrug of his shoulders, an affirmation. He hadn’t needed her to point it out—he’d already noticed the hateful eyes on him, staring him down.

He knew whom they belonged to, as well. If he hadn’t known why she was looking at him like that, it might have bothered him, but he knew both that he was disliked and the reason for it. Tatsuya generally tended to let sleeping dogs lie, as long as all they were doing was looking, but it seemed to be something Erika couldn’t do. Her unhappy voice spoke up:

“After putting all those people through all that trouble, she still doesn’t understand that she’s just venting for no reason?”

“She might know, but I’m sure it’s not easy for her to let go of.”

“Not easy… It’s been almost half a year.”

“Just half a year,” answered Tatsuya, looking behind him at an angle and glancing at the source of the stare.

Chiaki Hirakawa, glaring spitefully at him, hastily looked away. A moment later, as though angered by her own display of weakness, she turned back, an even more dangerous stare trained on Tatsuya.

Her attitude rubbed Erika the wrong way even worse than before. In contrast to Sayaka, who’d been tricked into cooperating with a terrorist group but had shown pure-hearted repentance after the incident, Chiaki had willingly become a pawn for people she knew were foreign spies in order to have her misguided revenge, and even now didn’t even try to apologize to Tatsuya for it.

Erika didn’t have any patience for that. She wouldn’t poke her own nose into it because she wasn’t very bullheaded, but she truly felt that if it came to a fight, she’d accept a challenge in Tatsuya’s place—or even start one herself. And right now, Erika felt Chiaki’s brassiness was, in fact, picking a fight.

A severe light came into Erika’s eyes. Rather than narrowing them, she pulled them open even wider. Erika’s looks were already somewhat feline, but now she took on a more ferocious beauty akin to a tiger’s or a panther’s. Tatsuya was personally interested in appreciating the look for a few more moments, but if this situation continued, he was sure to get dragged into the middle of more trouble. The viewing fee seemed a little too high to him.

“Erika, you don’t need to meddle.”

She gave him a wholly unsatisfied look. A look with enough punch that, had he been a man of weaker constitution, he might have flown down to his hands and knees to apologize. But unfortunately, Tatsuya was not so commendable (?).

“The embers are falling on me, and I’ll swat them away. But only if she has the grit to light the flame.”

Tatsuya gave a cold-blooded grin. After she realized from his expression that he had no intent whatsoever to get familiar with the girl, Erika’s own expression softened—into a slight smile to hide embarrassment, possibly indicating she regretted overstepping herself.

Then, with perfect timing, another voice interrupted them and altered the mood.

“Hey, do you have a minute?”

The voice came from directly behind Tatsuya, so he turned around in his seat. A male student who had just entered the classroom sat there, looking at him with an amicable smile on his face.

“This is the first time we’ve been able to actually introduce ourselves, isn’t it? I’m Hagane Tomitsuka. Nice to meet you, Shiba.”

“You’re right—I know your name, but for all intents and purposes we’ve just met, I suppose. I’m Tatsuya Shiba. Nice to meet you, Tomitsuka.”

Tatsuya answered in his usual tone of voice as he returned the handshake. To tell the truth, he felt like shaking hands with a classmate after self-introductions was an overblown act, but he didn’t let a wink of that show. Nor did he give any indication of his surprise that Hagane Tomitsuka was here in the first place.

But Tatsuya’s friends couldn’t keep a poker face like he could. Mizuki, for example, had been staring hard at Tomitsuka, who had plunked himself into the seat directly behind Tatsuya. She appeared to snap back to her senses suddenly, and her face reddened. She was probably embarrassed that she’d been so rude. With a bashful smile, she spoke up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tomitsuka. I’m Mizuki Shibata.”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

Tomitsuka gave an affable smile, dissolving the tension from Mizuki’s face. The exchange was pretty normal, in a way, from a high schooler’s standpoint, and after seeing it, the other two seemed to break out of their petrifaction.

“I’m surprised… Tomitsuka’s fifth in our grade, but he chose the engineering program.”

Still, Erika’s voice—directed to no one and everyone—was filled with surprise.

Tatsuya couldn’t blame her. Like she said, Hagane Tomitsuka was a top-ranking student in their grade, one who had scored fifth highest across all subjects during final exams. (The order for final exam grades was Miyuki in first, Honoka in second, a male student named Yousuke Igarashi in third, and Eimi Akechi in fourth. Shizuku had been studying abroad at the time.) His grades were more than good enough for a Course 1 student, so one wouldn’t have thought he’d need to transfer into the magical engineering program—had one been an objective observer.

“Chiba, right? You probably know this since you’re one of the Hundred, too, but my family’s forte is this, not combat or rescue, and I…have some issues with my practical skills.”

Though the remark hadn’t been directed at him, Tomitsuka still turned to Erika with a slightly wry grin and responded. And then Erika (and Leo, too) remembered the rumors surrounding Tomitsuka’s nickname.

Range Zero. The nickname was both a term of respect for his unrivaled strength at point-blank range and a reference to his inability to use long-range magic. It wasn’t actually that he couldn’t use it at all, but the undeniable truth was that he wasn’t very good at aiming long-range spells, and Tomitsuka was undeniably aware of the flaw.

Erika let her eyes wander, unable to find the words to reply with. Tatsuya threw her a life raft. “Well, everyone has strengths and weaknesses.”

It wasn’t completely clear whether his “life raft” was supposed to be comforting or dismissive, but Leo interjected quietly and seriously with “Can’t argue with someone like Tatsuya saying that.”

Tomitsuka’s wry grin shifted into something more bitter.

“Tomitsuka! Found you!”

A moment later, a voice, cheerful enough to blast away all their intricately intertwined emotions, burst into the classroom of Class 2-E.

“Akechi?!”

Tomitsuka turned around in a fluster as Eimi Akechi, also known as Amy, came stampeding toward him from the entrance in the back of the room. She was a personal acquaintance of Tatsuya’s as well, since she’d been a competitor in last summer’s Nines. She stopped next to Tomitsuka’s desk almost with an audible skid, and one hand shot up while a full smile came over her face. Tatsuya had no idea whose style she was emulating by putting on this display.

“Morning, Tomitsuka!”

Her greeting was energetic, the sort a heart or even a music note might have followed. Unlike Erika, who had an equally bright personality but convoluted ideas lurking beneath the surface, Eimi had a personality that was cheerful all the way down. A valuable type of person—when you watched her, she’d make you feel stupid for fretting constantly over this or that. Now was no exception—her arrival had blown away the awkwardness about to settle in the air.

“Ah, yeah. Good morning, Akechi.”

Tomitsuka drew back at her fervor, perhaps out of courtesy. Actually, judging by his expression, it didn’t feel like Eimi was drawn to Tomitsuka so much as she was overpowering him.

“Morning to you, too, Shiba.”

“Morning, Amy. That’s right—you were in Tomitsuka’s class last year, weren’t you?”

“Yep! You sure do know a lot,” said Eimi, her eyes widening.

“Well, I know some things,” said Tatsuya, giving her a somewhat exhausted grin. “Amy, this is Mizuki Shibata. Over here is Erika Chiba, and also Leonhard Saijou. All three of them were my classmates last year.”

He figured Mizuki and the others wouldn’t have had any contact in the past, and this estimation of his wasn’t wrong.

After he gave a simple (sloppy?) introduction, Eimi immediately replied with one of her own. “Nice to meetcha. I’m Eimi Akechi, but you can call me Amy.”

“Okay—Amy, right?” Erika was the first to respond, perhaps expectedly. “You can just call me Erika.”

“Feel free to call me Leo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Akechi.”

After Leo’s self-introduction (or self-introductory supplement), Mizuki bowed to her.

For some reason, when she did, Eimi puffed out a cheek unhappily. “Amy.”

“Huh?”

“I just said to call me Amy, didn’t I?”

Mizuki blinked in confusion, unable to comprehend why Eimi was mad at her. From an objective standpoint, Eimi’s insistence bordered on unfair, but cases where energy won out over logic could be observed quite frequently in this world. Erika and Leo aside—they were mildly appalled, since they didn’t know what kind of girl she was—even Tatsuya, who had a degree of familiarity with her, didn’t show any signs that he would intervene for whatever reason. Tomitsuka, the other person who would have known what Eimi was like, looked like he was too busy being flustered to put a word in anytime soon.

“Umm… It’s nice to meet you, Amy. And you may call me Mizuki as well.”

Mizuki, though bewildered, was the first to break in the end.

“Yep! Nice to meet you, Mizuki.”

When she did, Eimi immediately gave an innocent smile. It wasn’t a normal “sweet” smile so much as it was a naive and unsophisticated one, and it packed enough punch to single-handedly dissolve the slight discomfort Mizuki had felt at her selfish objection.

Eimi nodded, satisfied, then whirled back around to face Tomitsuka. “Then next it’s your turn, Tomitsuka.”

“I’m sorry?” It was all so sudden that Tomitsuka basically didn’t understand why she was suddenly talking to him or what it was his turn to do.

“Amy.” Eimi said her own nickname once again.

He still didn’t know what she was asking of him. He looked left and right at a loss, then noticed Tatsuya making a face like he was trying not to laugh.

He used his eyes to beg for help. Tatsuya crafted an unnaturally serious expression, then answered his distress call:

“She doesn’t like you calling her Akechi, does she?”

Tatsuya’s deduction seemed to have hit the mark. Eimi nodded in agreement.

“I think she wants you to call her by her nickname, too.”

Eimi’s being visibly frustrated at Mizuki had been a hint. Still, Tatsuya had seen this development coming, which was why he hadn’t said anything.

Meanwhile, Tomitsuka’s face was so drawn back, it looked like he would start sweating at any moment. “I, uh, well, you call me Tomitsuka, too, so…”

“I do? Do you want me to call you Hagane?” She bowed slightly and put her hands together in a gesture of apology, her eyes saying, Come on, you should have said something sooner, as she peered into Tomitsuka’s face. Meanwhile, his panic was clear to everyone present. As his face stiffened even further and he leaned back, Tatsuya and the others watched him with warm gazes.

“Uh, no, that’s not exactly what I meant by—ack!”

The direly distressed Tomitsuka, trying desperately not to meet Eimi’s gaze as she watched him in apparent amusement, spotted the eyes on him from two seats over, stood up, and spoke in a tone of contrived politeness.

“Akechi, we can leave this conversation for another time.”

Deftly evading Eimi, who was taking up half his vision by leaning forward at him, Tomitsuka walked over to the seat of the female student who was watching him.

“Hirakawa, right? I didn’t know you were in this class, too.”

His voice could just barely be made out from where Tatsuya and the others were sitting. Chiaki’s words, though, were muttered and reserved, completely inaudible.

“Amy, shouldn’t you go after him?” asked Erika, keeping her tone low as Eimi made an unhappy face at being left behind so suddenly. “I really don’t think you should back down now…”

Were those the whisperings of a devil luring a heart to corruption, or of a divine envoy directing her to a path of hardship? —It was nothing so theatrical, of course, just some words from an imp spurring on a classmate, but it took effect instantly. Eimi nodded, her expression pumped up, then rapidly walked toward Tomitsuka.

“…You’re a scary woman, you know that?” muttered Leo, his tone serious.

“Isn’t this more constructive, though?” answered Erika with a grin.

“You’re not wrong,” noted Tatsuya. “Things could get pretty interesting.”

Mizuki looked at Tatsuya—who, as his words had implied, was watching Tomitsuka, Eimi, and Chiaki with a gaze that didn’t hide any of his interest—in mild astonishment mixed with a bit of exasperation.

The bell rang, putting aside for the moment the coming-of-age drama wherein Tomitsuka was the main character (or possibly the prey). Eimi skipped happily out of 2-E, and Erika and Leo headed for the 2-F classroom as well.

There wouldn’t be any student body–wide opening ceremonies for the first day. The school’s stance was that students should take it upon themselves to make sure they saw any messages the school gave. For this class, the program was for their practical skills instructor to show up now (same as in classes A through D). Enough students to form a majority here in Class 2-E felt that the school was being full of itself by not announcing the teacher’s name until the day of, but Tatsuya belonged to the minority who didn’t think that way.

They’d probably only decided on someone with very little time to spare—and his deduction was completely on the mark. Magicians with teaching talents were in such short supply that First, Second, and Third High, which all had a lot of staff to begin with, still had to cut off half their students from them.

The labor shortage was always in his mind, so he predicted that Class 2-E’s practical skills instructor might be an eccentric, maybe someone generally thought of as on the edge of teaching fitness. Very old, for example, or conversely extremely young. They were only going to teach engineering-related skills, so the position didn’t demand that much capacity as a magician, but Tatsuya’s predictions also included the possibility that they’d be dispatched a scientist without any teaching certifications.

But thirty seconds after starting time, the instructor who stood in front of all the Class 2-E students was beyond anything Tatsuya had expected. The other students seemed surprised, too; a hushed murmur rippled through the classroom.

She was a woman he estimated to be in her forties.

That, of course, wasn’t enough to strike them as unexpected. Just because there was a clear majority of male teachers at magic high schools didn’t mean women were a rarity. The surprise was at her appearance.

Her hair color was silver, her eye color blue, her skin color white. She was tall, and her waist was high off the ground. Judging by her other physical characteristics as well, it was clear that the woman was a Caucasian born in a northern region.

“I’m Jennifer Smith.”

Her name was very Anglophonic as well—actually, her last name was the last name of the English-speaking sphere.

“I was born in Boston, in the USNA, but I naturalized here eighteen years ago.”

Those words dispelled most of the students’ doubts. If so much time had passed since she’d naturalized, there wouldn’t be any concerns on the confidentiality front. Normally, a stronger sense of love for one’s country was demanded of naturalized citizens than of those born here. Unless you were more faithful to the country you naturalized in than to the one before, they’d never permit you to naturalize. That was what it meant to be an expatriate. This was particularly thoroughly enforced when it came to magic researchers with many opportunities to be involved with state secrets. It still begged the question of why she had rescinded her USNA citizenship and naturalized in Japan when the USNA was, in the modern world, the wealthiest and stood at the cutting edge of magical technology, but that was a relatively uninteresting topic for Tatsuya.

“Until last year, I was a lecturer at the Magic University, but this year I’m here to instruct magical engineering classes as well as this class. I look forward to teaching you all.”

Her position is the same as Mr. Tsuzura’s, thought Tatsuya. Tsuzura in particular had a background—he too was free-spirited, and that had been his downfall. He wondered if Ms. Smith had a similar background…although he also admitted that assuming she was another problem child was terribly rude.

First period was allotted for course registration, they’d very abruptly started their usual curriculum in second period, and now it was lunch break.

Tatsuya had come to the student council room.

Starting today, he was the vice president. A “secret agreement” between Azusa and Kanon had made him switch from the disciplinary committee to the student council, the execution of which was performed regardless of Tatsuya’s own wants. He didn’t resist, since he didn’t have any attachment to the disciplinary committee, but he didn’t dislike the idea of being in the student council overall. However, even if he had taken a stance of refusal, a certain someone would probably have convinced him to do it anyway—not Azusa, but Miyuki. Perhaps he hadn’t resisted in the first place because he knew all that going into it.

Whatever the background, this was how 2096 First High’s new system had safely set sail. There were new members in the disciplinary committee, too. Mikihiko was one, chosen as Tatsuya’s successor by the student council in their one allotted recommendation slot. Shizuku had been chosen as the club committee’s allotted replacement recommendation; that committee had lost their other replacement at the end of the previous year. In the student council room today, the first day of the new year, were Azusa, Isori, Tatsuya, Miyuki, Honoka, Shizuku, and Mikihiko. They were having a good celebratory luncheon together for the new committee members.

Even the student council room’s meeting table was somewhat cramped with eight people. To alleviate that—or maybe just using that as an excuse—Kanon was clinging right to Isori. Everyone watched the passionate—though a little awkward on Isori’s part—behavior differently, with Azusa and Mikihiko embarrassed, Tatsuya and Shizuku maintaining poker faces, Honoka looking rather envious, and Miyuki with a warm smile as they all continued to enjoy their peaceful lunchtime. Incidentally, Honoka would have liked to reuse Kanon’s reasoning that the table was cramped to cling to Tatsuya herself, but when even Miyuki held herself back—or rather, in her seat—she couldn’t make any moves either.

Coffee cups and teacups were passed out according to specific tastes. Serving them was 3H type P-94, Pixie. The female-modeled housekeeping robot had originally been on loan from the robotics research club, but due to several circumstances—first and foremost Pixie’s own wishes—starting today, she would now be put to use by Tatsuya in the student council room.

At first their lunchtime conversation was about the unusual instructor for the newly established magical engineering program. But as their break reached its halfway point, everyone’s interest shifted to the entrance ceremony just around the corner.

“Is there rehearsal after school again today?” asked Mikihiko politely, knowing their upperclassmen were present, despite the fact that he wasn’t involved with the ceremony’s preparations.

“It is more of a preliminary meeting than a rehearsal,” answered Miyuki in the default polite tone she used with male students. “There are only two rehearsals for the address—one during spring break and one right before the ceremony. Even then, they’ll only be practicing the program. They won’t actually be reading any scripts.”

“Was it the same last year?” asked Shizuku.

“Yes,” answered Miyuki. She had been the one to read the address a year before.

“Wait, really? It definitely didn’t seem like it,” said Kanon, with surprising energy. The reason, though, came from her own mouth right after: “It was pretty awf—er, difficult when it was us, so I thought they decided to have more rehearsals next time.”

“Well, it was awful…”

Kanon had corrected herself just before her slip of the tongue, but it seemed she had been too late. Azusa, who had been the new student representative the year before the last, cowered, her face incredibly disappointed.

“Y-you were just nervous, Nakajou,” said Isori hastily, trying to fix his fiancée’s mistake. “It wasn’t anything strange.”

Meanwhile, Tatsuya set up a defensive perimeter before Miyuki could get strangely awkward at Isori’s follow-up, saying, “Of course, that doesn’t mean Miyuki was strange for not getting stage fright, either.”

“Oh, you joke, Brother. I can assure you, I was quite nervous.”

With incredibly natural timing, Miyuki placed her hand overtop Tatsuya’s, where it sat on his thigh. She brought her upper body closer, peering into his face. He grinned drily at the slightly miffed look she was giving him, gently patting her hair and gently pushing her head back to its original position. Miyuki made a soft “ah” sound and directed a bashful smile toward him. Shizuku elbowed Honoka—whose face was frozen in an expression of surprise—in the side as Kanon gave a weary look, putting herself aside (while still snuggled up next to Isori).

Mikihiko cleared his throat purposefully, returning the chaotic mood to normal. His face had the traces of considerable effort on it. Tatsuya spoke to him, acting as though nothing had happened. “Miyuki and I actually haven’t ever met this year’s freshman representative,” he remarked.

“The school leads all the preparations for the incoming students, after all,” said Isori, shifting into explanation mode; he knew more about it than Tatsuya did. “They respect student autonomy, but official events with a lot of guests are probably a different story. The student council does most things related to students who are already enrolled, though.”

“Because…the incoming freshmen still aren’t students at this school?”

“Nah, Mikihiko, I think you’re reading too much into it.”

Mikihiko probably hadn’t meant much—he was just trying to keep the conversation going—but Tatsuya came back with an unreserved retort. Isori looked somehow envious of how easily they got along with each other, but maybe it was an illusion.

“I don’t know the real reason. It’s only what we figure is happening,” said Isori, smiling it away. He didn’t give a single hint as to his feelings on the matter before changing the topic. “Nakajou, you’ve met him, right?”

Kanon immediately perked up. “She’s met Shippou?”

With eyes brimming with curiosity bearing down upon her, Azusa looked down in thought. “Yes, well… He seemed very…motivated.”

She clearly didn’t want to offer a negative evaluation of her new classmate.

“Ambitious, you mean,” said Kanon, rephrasing it bluntly. Considering Azusa’s vaguely pained smile in response, it seemed she had the same opinion.

The living room after dinner. Leaving the dishes to Minami per their work-distribution agreement, Miyuki brought coffee to Tatsuya. She put her own cup on the side table, then sat down next to him.

“Considering he’s the Shippou’s eldest son, I can understand why he’s ambitious,” began Tatsuya as if to soothe her.

“Brother, why are you suddenly thinking about Shippou?”

She placed both hands together on her lap, her pose a polite and ladylike one as she tilted her head in confusion. Her formal expression, of course, wasn’t enough to deceive Tatsuya.

“But that doesn’t mean we have to make concessions for him. If you don’t fight with him, you don’t need to be any more friendly with him.”

“I would never fight with someone,” said Miyuki, grumpily turning her cheek. She only assumed such an attitude openly because they were both aware of what had happened; Miyuki and the Shippou’s eldest son’s first meeting hadn’t been a friendly one by any stretch of the imagination.

Miyuki hadn’t tried to pick a fight with him, of course. At first she had tried to welcome him warmly as an underclassman and the incoming student representative. But…

“Allow me to introduce Takuma Shippou. He’ll be the new student representative this year.”

The student council room after school. Its members had already assembled—Isori, Miyuki, Honoka, and Tatsuya—and after an introduction by Azusa, Takuma Shippou gave a bow. The attitude was passably ordinary for a new student, but…

“I’m Tatsuya Shiba, vice president. Nice to meet you, Shippou.”

…that impression changed when Tatsuya introduced himself after Isori.

“I’m Takuma Shippou. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His last name came out unnaturally stressed, but his choice of words was still tolerable. His attitude, though, couldn’t be called very polite. Takuma wasn’t looking at Tatsuya’s face—he was looking at his left breast pocket.

“…Shippou?” asked Azusa quietly.

Takuma appeared to come to his senses. He gave an uncomfortable and insincere grin. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t recognize the gear emblem Shiba happens to be wearing.”

After hearing his excuse, Azusa said, “Oh, I get it,” and nodded. “That’s the emblem for the magical engineering program that was just established this year.”

“I see,” said Takuma casually, seeming disinterested—either truly or by design.

Tatsuya didn’t consider it unpleasant. The Shippou family’s trump card, Million Edge, was exceptional among modern magic in that it didn’t use a CAD. Tatsuya had heard rumors among engineers that, possibly because of that, the family tended to malign magical engineering technology.

But he didn’t mind it so much—everyone had their own way of thinking. Something might be valuable to you, but you couldn’t force others to share that sense of value.

However, it was something Miyuki couldn’t personally overlook. In her eyes, it was a pompous attitude, absolute insolence. He believed without basis that he was of higher position, and therefore looked down on others without reason. He wore the same colors as his Course 1 classmates who had disparaged her brother for being a Weed. That was how Miyuki took it.

Takuma turned to face the next person, meaning to continue his greetings. He didn’t intend to cause a stir in a place like this, and besides, he didn’t feel he’d done anything rude to begin with. Without any particular preparation, he looked toward the next student council member, Miyuki.

A moment later he winced, doubtless a humiliating act for him. But none could blame him, for upon that face…

…the queen of snow and ice had descended.

Her presence was not so simple that she could be called “Blizzard Princess” or anything of the sort. The prim, aloof facial expression was a common one for her, but it had driven a former student council member to ready himself for a death match. It was still a far cry from that time, which had been during the student council elections last year, but she still gave off such pressure that Takuma’s losing his cool upon seeing it for the first time was nothing for him to be ashamed of.

But Takuma himself didn’t think that way. Frustration rose to his face, unable to be kept down. He quickly constructed a courteous smile in its place, but it didn’t go so well from an objective standpoint.

“I am Miyuki Shiba, also vice president.”

Those were the only words she gave in self-introduction, fitting for her cold look.

“…I’m Takuma Shippou. It’s nice to meet you.”

His voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from anger. He was mad at himself for letting Miyuki overpower him. He still had the restraint not to transfer his anger to someone else, but he’d always been a boy subject to violent changes of mood. He gritted his teeth to hold himself back. Gritted them so strongly that no expression he could put on his face could hide it.

Miyuki and Takuma’s attitudes couldn’t be called absolutely peaceful. Steadily the level of unrest in the air increased, and Azusa began to fidget. If this were the previous year’s student council, someone like Suzune would have patched things up, but Isori, who was in her position this year, looked like he didn’t know what to do. Miyuki’s response had been childish for someone who was Takuma’s senior, but he was hard-pressed to call Takuma’s behavior suitably polite for someone who was a new student. The sense of imbalance bound him.

Out of all the members here right now, the only one who stood a chance to pacify Miyuki and thus resolve the situation was Tatsuya—but all he did was observe Takuma’s expression without speaking.

…After that, thanks to Honoka doing her best to introduce herself as cheerfully as possible, the prickly mood dulled somewhat. The strained air, however, remained in the student council room for the duration of the meeting. This wasn’t any sort of proper rehearsal; they were just reviewing and confirming the previously determined program, so they finished in a short time.

*   *   *

If the mood had continued for much longer, though, it might have given concern for the success of the entrance ceremony itself—and considering the tradition whereby the new student representative was invited to the student council, things were already at the level where people worried about negative effects on the government body this year.

“Well, I didn’t think it would suddenly turn into a stare-down. The eldest son of the Shippou seems to like fighting.”

Miyuki didn’t believe the attitude she’d adopted had been wrong. But however legitimate the reason—that she’d felt scornful eyes had been looking at her beloved brother—the fact was that she’d made the mood worse in an official setting. She’d been prepared for a few harsh words coming her way, but her brother seemed to be dodging the issue and not criticizing her. Her tone as she replied to him was a hesitant one.

“I do not believe his attitude toward you was simply of the insolent sort, Brother. It felt as though it had a much clearer vector, that there was underlying hostile intent.”

Now that she thought back on it calmly, Takuma’s attitude had seemed a little different from her classmates’ right after she’d started school the previous year. It wasn’t that Takuma was scorning Tatsuya as unimportant and beneath him, but that Takuma had to make himself believe he was, in order to be at a mental advantage against an enemy…

Miyuki suddenly changed her mind: That was the sort of lack of composure she’d glimpsed from him.

“Yeah. He was being cautious of us.”

Tatsuya knew that Takuma had actually been directing his hostility more toward Miyuki than toward him. The person staring at them while they were coming to school this morning—Takuma Shippou—had been glaring at his sister, not him. Tatsuya felt like the hostility toward him was just an add-on to that.

On the other hand, Miyuki didn’t consider for a split second that she was the main target and her brother was just a supplement. She noticed Tatsuya said “of us,” but she believed that her brother was the main target, and she only an accessory.

“I do not know why, but I believe we should give it serious thought. We don’t know when something like last year will happen again.”

Miyuki was referring to the incident caused by an international terrorist organization named Blanche that had happened right after they’d enrolled the previous year. It had become an emergency wherein terrorists had invaded First High, and the siblings had only become deeply involved with it after Sayaka asked Tatsuya for help. At first, he’d assumed she was trying to recruit new members for a school club or something.

He had to wonder if, had he thought about it more seriously at the time, the later developments would have been different. In the end, it hadn’t been a big deal (at least not for the siblings). But Tatsuya responding to Takuma’s challenging behavior with an attitude of Just don’t get in a fight with him overlapped with what had happened with Sayaka, so she couldn’t resist warning him about that.

“Last year? Oh yeah. I don’t think it’ll come to that. He is still one of the Twenty-Eight.”

“The Twenty-Eight” referred to the Ten Master Clans and the Eighteen Support Clans together, and was not an expression that saw much use. However, within the Ten Master Clans and the Eighteen Support Clans—which added up to twenty-eight families—it was used as a term to refer to all of them as having come from one place: magician development laboratories.

“Now I don’t exactly know what Takuma Shippou is like, but,” said Tatsuya almost to himself, still holding his coffee cup, “because of how opposed they are to the Saegusa, people say the Shippou have a particularly strong attachment even among the Eighteen to the idea of being one of the Ten Master Clans.”

Miyuki knew about the feud between the Saegusa and the Shippou, but the rest, about having a position in the Ten Master Clans, must have been new to her. A curious expression came to her face.

“Boys our age already want other people to acknowledge how strong we are. We strive for the recognition.”

“Oh, even you, Brother?” his sister teased.

“Well, yeah. I want that as much as the next guy,” answered Tatsuya, giving a dry grin. “That sort of desire seems exceptionally strong in Shippou. He probably wants to show that he has the strength to be in the Ten Master Clans. I think that’s why he gets aggressive with people who seem like they’re going to get in his way.”

“But we haven’t gotten in Shippou’s way.”

“For someone who wants everyone to recognize them for how great they are, anyone who’s already lauded is an obstacle,” he explained, the pained grin still on his face.

Miyuki nodded deeply. “I see. In other words, Shippou is envious of your fame.”

She seemed to have herself completely convinced. Tatsuya almost spat out his coffee. “No, I don’t think it’s me he’s envious of—or rather, sees as a rival. It’s probably you, Miyuki.”

“What, me?”

Her eyes insisted that nobody could ever leave her brother aside for her.

Tatsuya shook his head several times. “He’s this year’s freshman rep, and you were last year’s. That by itself is enough reason for him to view you as a rival. Add that to how well you did in the Nines, and I’m pretty sure he only sees me as an enemy accessory to you.”

“But that’s…! You are not an accessory of mine, or anything of the sort!”

“Look, you don’t need to get so worked up… I’m trying to put myself in his shoes. This is all just a theory.”

“I refuse to accept such an appalling theory.”

“That doesn’t exactly mean it’s going away…”

With a switch suddenly flipped within Miyuki, Tatsuya kind of had his hands full.

“I’m the one who is your—no, even if I give a big concession, you’re my dear partner.”

The part she was a little embarrassed to say sounded like “I belong to you,” but Tatsuya made the decision not to worry about it. Even the way she rephrased it seemed pretty bold and embarrassing to him, but he let that slide off as well.

“The other possibility I can think of is that he’s hostile because he knows we’re related to the Ten Master Clans.”

This remark, spoken offhandedly, was weighty enough to drag the floating, excited Miyuki back down to earth.

“That we’re related to the Yotsuba? I think that’s overthinking it, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I doubt he or his family has the power to break through the Yotsuba’s information control…but something tells me the prejudice in his eyes was strong enough for it.”

Tatsuya wasn’t recalling the eyes he’d used to glare at Miyuki in the student council room, but rather the ones on her on their way to school. That was a Takuma Shippou she didn’t know, which was why his thoughts didn’t quite make sense to her right now.

Still, she took her brother’s concerns to heart. “I see… He is one of the Twenty-Eight. We should probably take caution.”

…He was right in that Takuma’s animosity was related to the Ten Master Clans, but completely incorrect about their being related to the Yotsuba. Takuma suspected a connection to the Saegusa, but neither Tatsuya nor Miyuki came to that conclusion. They were friends with Mayumi, but they never forgot about the awkward relationship between the Yotsuba and the Saegusa, so they never considered that others might see them as part of the Saegusa’s team.