October 15, 2096, after school. With the Thesis Competition two weeks away, a hushed stir filled the First High school building, though it was a different kind than the clamor of their competition preparations.

The topic on everyone’s lips was a sudden visitor: a famous alum, a familiar face for the juniors and seniors, and known to all but a few freshmen as well.

The person in question, Mayumi Saegusa, had been led to the guest reception room. The school apparently decided to receive her not as the former student council president, but as the daughter of the Saegusa, one of the Ten Master Clans. The only one talking to her right at the moment was Tatsuya. This was because she’d called on him.

“I’m sorry, Tatsuya. I figured it would be safest to come here, so…” Mayumi offered, head lowered, because she’d noticed the commotion outside.

Her innate skill dealt with sight rather than sound, so she obviously hadn’t heard the students gossiping or anything like that. Still, it wouldn’t have been hard for anyone to guess, based on all the people furtively glancing at her on the way to the room, that the two of them were currently objects of much curiosity.

“Please, don’t worry about it.”

Tatsuya, too, had realized they were the subject of groundless conjecture. But his reply to Mayumi wasn’t to comfort her, sincerely or otherwise. Certainly, he would have to steel himself for about three months’ worth of bothersome rumors now that she’d come to visit the school, but it was still better than her barging into his house. There was plenty in his home he wouldn’t want other Clans to see; he hadn’t carelessly left sensitive items lying around, of course, but with Mayumi’s eyes, he couldn’t ignore the risk of her randomly catching a glimpse of something.

As for the young woman herself, if she’d really needed to contact him, it would have been more convenient to intrude on his home than come here to school, since it would’ve been easy for her to find out where he lived. Additionally, in terms of reputation and gossip, this school visit would definitely bother Mayumi longer. And yet, she’d still decided to meet him in such a visible place. In the end, the public setting was chosen entirely for his benefit; even Tatsuya understood at least that much.

“Well, um… How has it been going?”

She seemed uncharacteristically nervous, Tatsuya reflected after hearing her cut straight to the chase without any greeting or preface. Maybe a difficult matter had brought her here.

Still, Tatsuya was concerned that time would only be idled away at this rate, so he decided to kick the main event off himself: “My main job for the Thesis Competition this year is to help with venue security on the day of, so I’m not very busy.”

“Is…is that so? I’m a little surprised you’re not part of the presentation team…”

“Yes, so depending on what you need to talk about, I may be able to help.”

Tatsuya knew from the start that Mayumi hadn’t just come to visit him. Their relationship was not so intimate that it made sense that she was simply dying to see him again. Tatsuya wasn’t exactly just her underclassman, either, but that was also exactly why she must have had a clear goal when she decided to meet him.

“…You’re right. I suppose there’s no sense wasting time.”

Mayumi’s eyes wavered with hesitation again. Nevertheless, as she herself pointed out, they would spend all their time fruitlessly the way things were going. And free time was limited for the both of them. There was obviously a pressing issue, and she couldn’t allow herself to leave First High in disappointment without having told him what it was.

“Would you happen to remember Nakura?”

“Yes. And I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you… So you knew about it, huh?”

“I saw it in the local news.”

“Oh… Gathering info on the area for Thesis Competition security?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Then…” Mayumi’s short silence was enough for her to throw away the last of her hesitation. “Do you know about how he died?”

“They said it was a homicide.”

“So that’s all the information that was made public, then?” She gave a bitter smile with unexpected ease. “Yes. Nakura was killed. And I myself don’t know who the culprit is.”

Tatsuya gave a look of minor confusion at how she phrased that. “You yourself?”

“My father…” Mayumi paused for a moment. But she’d already cast away her indecision. “My father knows who is responsible.”

Tatsuya didn’t hide his surprise. “Did your father say that?”

“No. But it’s certain he knows—or, at least, has an idea. He was the one who ordered Nakura to go to Kyoto on a secret job.”

“A covert mission in Kyoto…?” Tatsuya was more familiar with it being called dirty work—an illicit task, or something close to it.

“I didn’t hear that verbatim, either. All my father said was that it was a job. And that I didn’t need to know.”

“I see.”

That was the same as saying her father made Nakura do some wet work. By Tatsuya’s interpretation, Kouichi Saegusa probably hadn’t meant to hide it at all.

“What are you thinking of doing, then?”

It wasn’t as though the question took Mayumi by surprise. Still, she visibly flinched when he brought it up so directly and bore into her with his piercing eyes.

Nevertheless, she didn’t look down and fall silent, or anything of the sort. Driven by something like a sense of duty, or perhaps personal responsibility, she met his gaze.

“I want to know the truth.”

“You want to find the culprit?”

“…Yes, I do.”

There was a subtle pause before her answer came. This wasn’t a reflection of her hesitation, but rather a moment she needed to tamp down her impatience.

“I’ll be honest,” Mayumi confessed. “Nakura and I were never close.”

Tatsuya raised his eyebrows in surprise but held his tongue. With a nod, he prompted her to continue.

“To Nakura, I was nothing more than a job to him. And I’d never thought of him as anything more than a chaperone-slash-bodyguard.”

“But you still want to find his killer?” Tatsuya prompted. “That seems like it could be rather risky.”

His provocative words elicited a look of suppressed rage. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying this because I’m naive or something.”

“Then why?”

“My bodyguard lost his life because of an order from the Saegusa family. I know he wasn’t commanded to die, but if his mission carried a high chance of death, it’s ultimately the same thing. I don’t want to turn a blind eye to that. As a member of the Saegusa, I at least want to figure out the truth.”

“That is a noble reason,” Tatsuya noted with a sigh. Mayumi raised her eyebrows. “However,” he interrupted sternly before she could say anything, “you need to understand that you’re only doing this to satisfy yourself in the end.”

“I know that. Is there something wrong with that?”

Rather than lapsing into self-deprecation, she used a willful, defiant tone with him. Even Tatsuya couldn’t immediately think of how to argue with her.

“I’m not convinced,” she went on. “I’m not satisfied. I can’t be proud of being the eldest daughter of the Saegusa if I leave things like this.”

“…Then you’re doing this as the daughter of the Saegusa?”

“That’s right. For better or worse, that’s my position. I can’t run away from it. If this is how I have to live, then I want to be proud of the title. Is that a strange way to think?”

“No, I don’t think it’s strange at all,” Tatsuya insisted.

Tatsuya was hit with envy and irritation all at once. His sister, Miyuki, still couldn’t call herself a direct descendant of the Yotsuba. She was being forced to lie about her true identity. Tatsuya didn’t think that being a part of the Yotsuba family was particularly wonderful, or that it was something to be proud of, but he imagined that it was a sad thing to have to hide who you really were.

Compared with his sister, the fact that Mayumi could talk about wanting to be proud of her birthright at all seemed like something covetable, something enviable.

“I see. What did you want to ask me, then? I can’t exactly find the culprit for you—I don’t have any detective skills, or the connections to get people to help me search. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’d be much help.”

However, apart from those natural sentiments, he also truly felt he couldn’t help her. He already had no idea where to start his search for Gongjin Zhou despite having plenty of clues. It didn’t seem possible for him to help find a criminal whom he didn’t know and who had left no leads.

“Wait!” Despite his clear refusal, Mayumi called out to him just as he was about to get up from his seat. “The criminal is probably related to Yokohama!”

“Yokohama?”

Tatsuya didn’t think he was showing any signs of surprise, but Mayumi, for some reason, had donned a slightly smug face.

“Someone involved with the Yokohama Incident last year. It looks like Nakura was nosing around in Chinatown recently.”

She probably thought her ploy to pique his interest had worked. And it had, though not for the reason she thought it would.

“I’m surprised you know that much.”

“He often got me souvenirs whenever he had to go away for other tasks. He’d brought me a lot from Chinatown recently. I’d thought maybe he was mistaking me for some child, but… Now I feel like he was trying to leave me hints about what he was doing.”

“I get it.”

Mayumi might not have been aware of it, but that remark was rife with implication.

Nakura’s employer was Kouichi Saegusa, and while Mayumi was part of his job, she was not directly involved with his employment or business dealings—she was a third party, an outsider.

That would mean a subordinate, who was both the eldest daughter’s bodyguard and someone entrusted with covert operations—or, at least, trusted enough to be involved with work his employer didn’t want getting out—was leaving hints about his tasks to an outsider.

Which meant, in turn, that Kouichi Saegusa didn’t have full control over his people.

Perhaps the Saegusa family currently had no one in their employ whom they could truly call a confidant.

And maybe, just maybe, that would mean something important much later down the road…

However, Tatsuya forced himself to stop thinking about the Saegusa family’s internal affairs then and there. “You may be correct that Nakura was involved with jobs related to Yokohama Chinatown. But I don’t see how that proves the criminal is related to the Yokohama Incident.”

At this point in time, Tatsuya had been thinking about asking Mayumi to help him. Physically, the young woman was unremarkable or even a little below average, but she had proven her combat ability on the Yokohama battlefield. And as a university student, she had a more flexible schedule than Miyuki or Minami, who were in high school.

His argument was only to cool her down a little. He wanted to splash her excited mind with some cold water so she would consider the possibility that she might be mistaken. If she still requested his assistance after that, Tatsuya would take it as an acceptance of the fact.

“Well…no,” said Mayumi, letting her indecision show for a moment—she seemed to have at least considered what he’d just pointed out. “Wait, you think I’m just assuming the killer is related to the Yokohama Incident?!”

But that only lasted a second or two before she turned a strong, possibly terse, attitude on him.

“I’m not saying that,” he offered back, flashing a polite smile. “Just that you might lose sight of the facts if your preconceptions are too strong.”

Mayumi almost seemed like she was on the brink of pouting—though now that she was in university, she seemed to be restraining herself from actually doing it.

“Assumptions, preconceptions—what’s the difference?” she muttered.

Her words had reached Tatsuya’s ears just fine, but he decided to treat it as though she were talking to herself. In other words, he let it slide—until she looked at him straight and gave him a clear answer, forcing his hand. “I know that much, at least,” she snapped.

“And do you understand this is dangerous, too?” Tatsuya asked. He’d been waiting for a chance to say it.

“Yes. But I have to do something.” She clearly felt like she’d come too far to turn back now. “So please, Tatsuya—will you help me?”

But Tatsuya didn’t mind at all, personally. Responding to an urgent request from an upperclassman would be good for him.

“…All right,” he stated.

The energy drained from Mayumi’s face as she relaxed. Though it didn’t show in his expression, Tatsuya was just as relieved. “What exactly should I do?” he went on.

“You’re going to Kyoto to scope the place out for security, right?”

“Yes, this Saturday.”

“I want you to come with me for a bit. I want to investigate the place where Nakura was killed.”

And to his final question, Mayumi shrewdly gave him the answer he wanted.

“Is that really all?” Tatsuya, depending on the situation on-site, had already planned to be with her for more than just “a bit.”

But that question was one he shouldn’t have asked. “…Look, I get it,” she grumbled.

Tatsuya was a brute, but it wasn’t like he ignored others except when it was beneficial for him. Seeing someone he was rather close with becoming depressed due to something he’d said didn’t make him feel very good.

“I know I’m still just a daughter of the Saegusa, and that I don’t personally have any influence or power. My skills and talent as a magician aren’t almighty. They won’t help me make the police act or search for the criminal in their place.”

Her murmured complaints were all the truth, and Tatsuya didn’t have the words to console her like he should have. He’d only gotten his revenge on No-Head Dragon and dealt with the recent invasion because he had backup from the Independent Magic Battalion. Even being able to interfere in the Parasidoll project was largely thanks to Yakumo’s help and having received a MOVAL suit from the Battalion.

He wouldn’t have been able to deal with any of those matters nearly as capably if he’d only been relying on his personal strength. Tatsuya had never forgotten that. His power was limited on his own, and his keen awareness of this fact prevented him from offering any hollow words of consolation.

“You were right about what you said at first. I’m really only doing this to satisfy myself. Maybe I’m an idiot for risking danger for that, but—”

“All right,” he interrupted, using the same words as before. “Sunday the twenty-first. You can pick a time and place at your convenience.”

“…Thank you, Tatsuya.” Mayumi bowed deeply from her seat on the sofa. “I’ll send you a text tomorrow, with a time and place.”

“May I ask one more thing?” Tatsuya wondered, stopping Mayumi as she got out of her seat. “Nakura’s remains have already been cremated, correct?”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you still have what he was wearing when he passed? The clothes he had on at the time, for example?”

“The police said they wanted to keep it all as evidence, so I had them do that. Nakura didn’t have any family, so I figured if it would help them catch who did it…”

“Would it be possible to examine them?”

“…I’ll try asking the detective who contacted the house.”

Tatsuya lowered his head slightly in thanks. Mayumi seemed like she had something she wanted to say, so he urged her on with his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she stated. “I didn’t think you’d be so receptive to this…”

“I’ll do everything in my power to help you,” Tatsuya explained, getting up before Mayumi could say thank you again.

In this short time, he’d rethought things—the chance that Nakura had been killed by Zhou wasn’t low. The theory that Kouichi Saegusa had been using Saburou Nakura to independently investigate Gongjin Zhou was certainly not far-fetched. And if there was any chance of that, then there was even a possibility that the Saegusa’s current head had secretly been in communication with Zhou.

Tatsuya wanted to see Nakura’s effects because they might contain a clue connecting him to Gongjin Zhou. Which was certainly nothing Mayumi should have been thanking him for.

After seeing Mayumi to the school’s front entrance, Tatsuya headed to the student council room.

For some reason, the student council members and current disciplinary committee chairman weren’t the only ones there—the former club committee chairman was present as well.

“Welcome back, Brother.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

Miyuki stood up and smiled. Tatsuya waved for her to sit back down and went to his desk. He noticed several people furtively looking at him, too, but decided not to react.

“Shiba?”

The one who ended up calling out to him was Izumi Saegusa, who had been struggling with her terminal since he’d entered the room, not sparing him a glance until that very moment.

“Are you having trouble with something?” he asked politely, full well knowing where this was going.

“No, that’s not it!”

And of course, his prediction was spot-on.

“Did Big Si—er, my sister go home yet?”

“She did. Why? Did you need her for something?”

“No, not particularly… I was just wondering what sort of matter she might have had that required your attention.”

It was clear Izumi’s remark was probing. She wanted to know what her sister and Tatsuya had talked about.

“Sorry, did I make you worry? There’s no need for concern, Izumi.”

But using that type of inquiry against Tatsuya would only lead to him taking advantage of it to change the topic.

“I was not worried about you!” Izumi shot back. And then, as per usual, her upperclassmen looked at her with heartwarming gazes, making her face glow red.

Miyuki took over the questioning for the blushing, downcast Izumi. She hadn’t been stealing glances at her brother or anything, but she was obviously still interested in how and why he’d met with Mayumi alone. In fact, she was probably the most interested.

“So, Brother, what were you talking to Saegusa about? If you have no objection, I would like to know.”

Right after Miyuki asked that, Tatsuya sensed everyone’s ears perking up at once. After looking around the room, he found that, though some people looked away and others looked right at him, everybody was waiting for his answer.

“She told me she also has some business in Kyoto in the near future.”

As he said that, Izumi gave a start. He couldn’t see her expression, since she was still looking down, but it was easy to guess she’d thought of what had happened to Nakura. Still, he decided being reserved with her or trying to comfort her would backfire. He continued, pretending not to have noticed.

“She wanted to go with me during our scouting next week. She wouldn’t tell me what she needed to do there, so I declined, but she gave me a fairly grave look.”

Hattori exhaled a bit at this adaptation of the events. He clearly had the same sort of concerns.

But then, as if to divert attention from his true feelings, he dug into Tatsuya with an especially harsh tone: “Shiba, why did you refuse if you knew it was a serious matter? Our ‘scouting’ is just going to be us looking around the city. We’re not under any time constraints, so you wouldn’t be making anything difficult just by going with her.”

It must be hard to be such a good, serious young man when, in reality, you want to be the one to accompany her, Tatsuya ribbed inwardly. He nearly loosened his lips, and he had to concentrate to keep them tight.

But that wasn’t the end of the criticism laid at his feet.

“Tatsuya, I agree with him,” Honoka said. Hattori’s reprimand was within expectations, but Tatsuya hadn’t foreseen Honoka reacting like this. “Ichihara and Juumonji are already at the Magic University, too, but she came all the way here. I think maybe she was really hoping she could rely on you.”

Not understanding what Honoka was after, Tatsuya couldn’t immediately answer. He struggled to think of any benefit she might gain if Tatsuya met with Mayumi in Kyoto. If Miyuki had been a complete stranger to him, Honoka might have had the idea of using Mayumi to reveal his true feelings. But in reality, Miyuki was his blood sister. And it was pretty clear from Minami’s normal attitude that she’d distanced herself a bit from Tatsuya.

Could her remark have been—and this idea might be rude to Honoka—purely out of sympathy toward Mayumi?

“Tatsuya, if it’ll only take up a little bit of time, does it really matter?”

“…I guess not.”

When even Mikihiko said something to him, he had to admit his outlook was grim. Mikihiko didn’t know his true goal—to capture Gongjin Zhou—but he was a conspirator in their plan to provoke the Traditionalists secretly during their Kyoto scouting trip. If he continued to stubbornly refuse even when Mikihiko urged him to help Mayumi, it would probably invite more suspicion than necessary.

And besides, this was all how Tatsuya wanted things to unfold. As long as he had a reason to be with Mayumi, he wouldn’t have to pass off meeting her as a coincidence.

At the end of the day, he didn’t have high hopes that she would be incredibly helpful. But it was best to have as many people as he could. Tatsuya was under the impression that his role wasn’t to search for Zhou, per se, but to deal with things after he’d been found. Still, since Maya’s request had been to assist in his capture, and that capture was impossible without finding him, he needed to at least pretend to be looking for him to smooth things over. The more people Tatsuya rounded up, the better it would look.

“Then I’ll contact her about it and apologize, too. Izumi, is it all right if I give her a call?”

“Why are you asking me?” Izumi asked back, a little irritated. She’d rightly sensed from his question that he was treating her as though she had a sister complex.

But an annoyed underclassman wasn’t enough to make Tatsuya flinch. “Because you’re her family?”

“There’s no need for my permission. You can do whatever you want.”

Tatsuya’s tasteless response was met adorably with Izumi’s cold shoulder.

A nameless village in a narrow basin surrounded by mountains in old Yamanashi Prefecture, near the border with old Nagano Prefecture. This small mountain village, which didn’t even show up on any maps, was the home base of the Yotsuba family, infamous around the globe to anyone involved with the magic world.

Located at the village’s center was the main Yotsuba residence, a remarkably large, single-story mansion with several detached buildings covering a wide swath of land. In one of its rooms, the proprietress of the mansion, Maya Yotsuba, was listening to a report from her butler and confidant, Hayama.

“…And that concludes the situation in Nara.”

“The JDF Information Bureau…” A scornful smile appeared on Maya’s rosy lips. It was by no means crude; in fact, it actually engendered a noble air.

“We are currently investigating which department has interfered. Should you consider that an offense—”

“No, not at all. The JDF has their own honor to uphold. It’s only a bit of meddling—we shall overlook it,” boasted his master.

The old butler gave a respectful bow. He had no doubt that Maya considered the JDF below her.

“More importantly, about Tatsuya…”

Maya’s interest quickly shifted away from the JDF. To be fair, they’d been speaking about Tatsuya to begin with, so she was just getting back to the topic at hand.

“I expect he’s working diligently?”

“Yes, madam. He hasn’t particularly been hiding the new spell he’s developing, and we haven’t seen any other rebelliousness.”

“That new spell… I heard that it’s a close-range, physical attack spell. Do you have any guesses as to what kind?”

“Yes, though it is only a guess.”

“That’s fine. I’d like to hear what you think about it, Hayama,” asked Maya without hiding her interest.

Maya, who never took part in real combat and very rarely in negotiations, was generally cooped up in the mansion. Still, that didn’t mean she had an abundance of free time. Of course, that wasn’t because of an addiction to sensual pleasures nor because of an obsession with online games. The Yotsuba family placed utmost importance on raising one’s capabilities as a magician, and as one of their number, she mainly spent her time on magical research.

To her, the news about Tatsuya developing a new spell was purely a topic that whet her curiosity.

“Judging by his note that it’s based on Angie Sirius’s Brionac and its name, ‘Baryon Lance,’ I would assume it is a sort of particle cannon that dismantles matter into protons and neutrons, then fires it.”

“An electrically-charged particle cannon, then?”

“If it was, I believe Mr. Tatsuya would have called it a recreation of Brionac rather than a new spell. In my humble opinion, it is more likely to be a neutron cannon.”

“A neutron cannon… Neutron barrier magic has already entered the realm of completion, but this is Tatsuya—I’m sure he’s considered that.”

As Maya happily laid down another deduction, she paused, her expression seeming like something had suddenly occurred to her.

“…Baryon Lance. Not Launcher, or Cannon, or Gun—but Lance. I wonder why.”

Hayama had been wondering about that, too, but he’d already decided how he’d answer the question. “I cannot fathom. He did say, however, that he would unveil it at the New Year Reception, so perhaps it would be best to see it in person.”

He didn’t have to use the expression A picture is worth a thousand words; Maya was perfectly aware that it was both faster and wiser to observe something rather than pile up speculations. She couldn’t help feeling like he was trying to delay, though, so a mean-spirited question made its way out of her mouth.

“Why didn’t you ask for details? It might have been a good way to find out whether he really is obedient or not.”

“I merely thought that learning any more would be unnecessary for the madam’s ends.”

But it may have come back to bite her. At Hayama’s admonishing tone, she gave an almost invisible shrug. “You talk about my ‘ends’ as though they’re so important,” she said, Hayama’s stare making her feel like she needed to excuse herself. “It isn’t because he’s my nephew. Driving him out wouldn’t do the Yotsuba any good.”

“I would think his being your nephew would be enough of a reason in its own right.”

“Hayama…”

“Please excuse me.”

Upon hearing Maya say his name in a reprimanding tone, Hayama bowed respectfully. Still, it wasn’t the appropriate apology for this sort of situation. Normally, one would use a phrase like I went too far or Please forgive my unnecessary meddling or something along those lines.

And the reason he hadn’t called his own remark “unnecessary meddling” was not wholly unrelated to why Maya’s cheeks had slightly reddened.

“Mr. Hayama.”

After leaving Maya’s room, and while he was on his way back through the yard to the detached building lent to him as living quarters, somebody addressed him from behind.

His inability to sense their presence caused him no distress. Plenty of people in this village had the ability to blend in with the wind or the dark.

And more importantly, the voice was one Hayama was familiar with.

“Lord Kuroba. I apologize deeply for not noticing you were watching.”

If nothing else, they knew each other well enough that he could offer a snide remark like that.

On the other end, Mitsugu Kuroba frowned in distaste, but he similarly kept himself from showing affront at something of this degree. “Not at all—please excuse my rudeness. I hadn’t realized I was still hiding my presence.”

Hayama couldn’t determine whether Mitsugu’s comment was true or false. It seemed perfectly reasonable that Mitsugu’s sticking to the shadows on a daily basis had become a habit, but it also seemed suspect that the man could properly do intelligence work without being aware of whether he was currently well-hidden, blending in, or exposed.

“No, you needn’t be concerned.”

But it didn’t matter. If Mitsugu Kuroba had seriously been concealing himself, he could have been standing right in front of Hayama without being noticed. It wouldn’t do Hayama any good to get annoyed over something so trivial with someone who could decide his fate at any time. Besides—and this was the more important part—the Kuroba family was a powerful branch of the Yotsuba, and Mitsugu, its leader, was one of the people Hayama was meant to serve. He’d be a failure as a butler if he was offended by every one of his master’s whims.

“In any case, Lord Kuroba, was there something you needed of me?”

“Something I needed… Yes, I suppose I wanted to talk to you for a few moments.”

Hayama’s eyebrow twitched. An expression of unhappiness—but one he’d made a point of showing. A moment later, he put on a courteous smile.

“You have something you wish to…discuss, then?”

Mitsugu realized what Hayama was thinking and quickly waved his hands in refusal. “No, no—I meant what I said. There was something I wanted to ask you, and something I wanted your opinion on. It will only take a moment.”

“Oh—then I must apologize.” Hayama bowed respectfully in the darkness, giving away no hint of his true thoughts. “Come right this way.”

He turned his feet back to the main house he’d just left. As head of the butlers employed to the Yotsuba, he was given a degree of discretion to freely use the reception room in the main building. Even if he didn’t, nobody would criticize him for using a room to discuss something with the head of the Kuroba family. In fact, continuing the conversation while standing would be the most likely thing to land him in hot water.

But Mitsugu didn’t go along with his sensible response. “Actually, if it’s all the same to you, here would be fine.”

Hayama stopped, turned around, and gave Mitsugu a dubious look.

Mitsugu ignored his suspicions and pushed on. “When you were talking to the head of the family, were you discussing that man—Gongjin Zhou?”

Hayama nodded in understanding. “I suppose it’s only natural for you to be curious if others are going to become involved in your work, yes?”

When the reply made his question seem almost foolish, Mitsugu quickly tried to deny it. “No, I—”

“But you need not worry.” Hayama, however, didn’t give him the chance. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Lord Kuroba, Lady Miyuki’s Guardian has been given a test.”

Mitsugu frowned for real this time. “…Yes, I’ve heard.”

The so-called test had begun not in the latter part of September, when his children had visited Tatsuya, but on one particular day in August. Because of it, Tatsuya had seen him in nearly the most disgraceful state possible. Mitsugu was grateful he still had two arms, but the deep gouge in his pride was another matter entirely.

“I’ve been reporting on its progress. After all, Lady Miyuki is a strong candidate to be the next head of the family. Discerning if there is the possibility that her Guardian would rebel against the Yotsuba will be of utmost importance to the family in the future.”

Mitsugu was letting more and more of his displeasure show, but Hayama didn’t pay it any mind.

“It is an extremely vital matter, and we believe we have done you a disservice, but we have used the incident as a means of judgment.”

“There is no way that man would ever be loyal to the Yotsuba family,” Mitsugu spat. This was what he truly believed, and also something he’d never show in front of the Shiba siblings themselves.

“I fail to understand what basis you have for determining that, Lord Kuroba…” With his eyes, Hayama asked for him to explain.

But Mitsugu only stared back at him silently.

Without seeming bothered at all, Hayama offered an answer himself, his tone a lofty one—and his words more scathing than anything anyone else would be able to say.

“Mr. Tatsuya is unaware he was nearly killed by his relatives soon after he was born. Any concern in that vein would be naught more than paranoia, don’t you think?”

“Hayama!” Mitsugu snapped.

That was something Mitsugu’s generation had always kept quiet about. The only one who knew of it, other than the seven families with Yotsuba blood—the Shiiba, the Mashiba, the Shibata, the Kuroba, the Mugura, the Tsukuba, and the Shizuka—was Hayama. It was so secret that even those under twenty years old who did have the right lineage had never been told. Suddenly bringing it up had been a surprise attack, understandably causing Mitsugu Kuroba to lose his cool.

Hayama accepted the death in the air with a courteous smile. “Even I understand that man doesn’t have loyalty toward the Yotsuba, and that this will remain the same in the future. And the mistress, of course, is obviously concerned about this. And yet, she trusts him with Lady Miyuki’s safety even still.”

Mitsugu ground his teeth. He was the one who had started this conversation, but suddenly, he found himself being roundly criticized.

“Lord Kuroba, loyalty is unneeded. Actions are all that matter. Even if he is traitorous and only pretends to obey, as long as he doesn’t betray his position, our expectations, or the results we need, he’s better to have than a loyalist who produces no results. Tools require no loyalty. Weapons need no mind of their own.”

“Are you calling magicians ‘weapons,’ you…?!”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I, too, am a magician,” said Hayama, before smiling in a lighthearted way and adding, “Though nearly powerless, compared with everyone else.”

Mitsugu found himself trapped in heavy silence.

“Weapons do not know fear. Weapons do not know anxiety. But can we really say someone who would kill an innocent person out of fear of the mere possibility of what they might become is truly any better than a mindless weapon?”

After driving that wedge deeply into Mitsugu’s heart, Hayama bowed and left.

Friday, October 10. Ten full days, including today, until the year’s Thesis Competition. The preparation for the presentation had at last entered its final stages.

Unlike the previous year, nothing suspicious had occurred at the school. It may have been more accurate to consider the previous year an exception, and to think of the present year as a return to normalcy—but either way, thanks to that uneventfulness, the work had been proceeding apace ahead of the competition, without needing to get any extra hands on board.

Even Tatsuya and the others had managed to obtain about ten days’ peace. In addition to the effort that Yakumo’s disciples put in, the mercenaries that Hayama had hired through Hanabishi, the butler, seemed to be doing well. Hanabishi was second in the Yotsuba servant hierarchy, the butler in charge of various responsibilities related to the rougher jobs the family undertook—including personnel procurement—and he never cut corners in his work.

In terms of raw numbers, the Yotsuba family didn’t actually have many magicians. Even those who had no direct blood ties but were still employed by the family and could freely use magic at any time were few in number compared with the Saegusa, and the difference only grew when looking at the Ichijou and Itsuwa.

All the Yotsuba magicians were powerful enough to make up for the numerical disadvantage, but some situations still called for quantity. For such cases, the Yotsuba had organized collaborators who, in the outside world, were disposable.

Magicians who had engaged in grave acts of rebellion against the state or had attempted to. Magicians who, though they had not taken any direct hostile action toward the state per se, had tried to leak militarily applicable magical technology to foreign powers. Magicians who had betrayed the state in such ways were often targets of purges that were supposed to be carried out by the Yotsuba.

These jobs were a vital source of family income. Not only did the Yotsuba gain financially, they also procured combat personnel through them. They brainwashed captured rebellious magicians and made them into pawns.

They never stole a person’s mind like No-Head Dragon had with their Generators. The Yotsuba were well aware of how directly willpower and emotion were related to the strength of magic.

Their brainwashing was more typical. Little by little, they’d imprint a fear of the Yotsuba in the magicians and make them believe only death awaited those who disobeyed. They’d overwrite their ideologies with the fear of death. They never approached those extremists who, in a true sense, didn’t fear death to begin with. They would only bring their deals to those who did fear it—by telling them they’d be set free, alive, if they worked hard enough.

In that way, the Yotsuba used magical mercenaries, who risked their lives in the hope of keeping them as payment, for several different types of work. Quantity was everything in this guard mission where any magician who acted even slightly suspiciously in the area was kidnapped. The Yotsuba family had used so many people for security that it seemed like they’d blow through their entire stock of brainwashed soldiers. However, thanks to them, not only Tatsuya’s friends but all of First High was in a state of near-perfect tranquility.

Even with the pretext of Thesis Competition prep work, female students weren’t allowed to stay at school late into the night. Whether it was gender discrimination or sexism didn’t matter; the night hours permitted to male students was simply disallowed for female students.

It was nearing closing time again today. Cleanup had already started in the student council room. Still, everything was paperless in this day and age, so it was different from the kind of “packing up” that was commonplace a century ago, when papers would be returned to cabinets or stuffed into bags. With almost no need to bustle about, they quickly finished getting ready to go home.

“Sorry Miyuki, I’ll be heading out first,” Izumi called.

The Shiba sister wouldn’t be coming to school the next day—Saturday—and instead was going to Kyoto. She’d requested a time extension at school to finish the handover report. That was why Izumi was leaving before her.

“I’ll be counting on you tomorrow and the day after, Izumi.”

“It’s an honor! I could never do as well as you, but I will do what little I can!”

Izumi had been idling reluctantly near the door, but once Miyuki said that to her, she pivoted and went on her way home in a good mood.

“It seems like you’ve gotten used to how to interact with Izumi, huh?” Honoka quipped with a dry smile after shutting down her terminal and standing up.

“You have the makings of a bad woman,” piped in Shizuku, who had come to the student council room to go home with Honoka.

Objectively, the remark was impossible to ignore, but Miyuki knew she didn’t mean anything by it, so she simply smiled and said, “There are no bad or good women when it comes to dealing with another girl, is there?”

“…You’re heartless, Miyuki.”

Shizuku sighed earnestly, but Miyuki only smiled back.

Shizuku’s main duty in the Thesis Competition was to guard the main presenter, Azusa, but she’d been going home with Honoka every day lately. They were frequently with many others, including Azusa, until they reached the station, but from there, it was just the two of them. And while there were professional bodyguards watching over them from the shadows, they were taking care to not be spotted. This meant that in cabinets and commuters, at least, she was alone with Honoka.

“Hey, Shizuku?”

In the line of people waiting for cabinets, Honoka spoke up apprehensively.

“Hmm?”

But Shizuku had no idea what she was worrying about. Just as she tilted her head in confusion, a two-seater car arrived in front of them.

After giving a light bow to the three-person party waiting for a four-seater, they boarded, then held their passes up to the card reader, which specified a destination. Shizuku looked at Honoka again, a question in her eyes.

“Oh… Well, I was just wondering if this was all right.”

“What?”

“Umm, I’m talking about protecting Nakajou…”

“Oh, that?” Shizuku relaxed her shoulders; her face seemed to say Is that all? “Nakajou was the one who told me to.”

“Told you Chikura was enough of a bodyguard for going home?”

As might be expected from good friends, Honoka filled in the part that Shizuku left out.

“I guess maybe it’s easier, since they’re both seniors,” Shizuku hedged.

“Yep… I think I can understand it,” Honoka agreed. “Even when it’s a younger student, there’s times you’d end up unsure on how to talk to them.”

“Kasumi and Izumi seem like exceptions.”

“Ah, ah-ha-ha-ha… But even Minami is…like, she has this wall around her.”

“Yeah.” Shizuku agreed in a word to Honoka’s claim. She was the one who had brought up that it was easier to get along with students in the same grade, so this was natural.

“And she’ll be okay with Chikura there.”

“Huh? Oh. Now that you mention it, Chikura’s magic is good for protection, right?”

“Yep.”

Honoka couldn’t immediately fill in this time when Shizuku said Azusa would be fine, but a moment of thought clued her in to what Shizuku wanted to say—the power of friendship, perhaps.

Tomoko Chikura specialized in a spell that reflected vectors. If she knew beforehand that someone would shoot her, she could even bounce back anti-material rifle rounds, given how much event influence she possessed. She couldn’t do much if someone sniped her without warning—and that was something that applied to most magicians, not just Tomoko—but she was extraordinarily strong in situations where it was obvious that someone was pointing a gun at her.

And her magic didn’t only work against projectile weapons. If a person charged at her, she could reflect their kinetic energy. So long as the target didn’t weigh more than a passenger car and wasn’t going at something like two hundred kilometers per hour, she could deal with it.

Like Honoka said, Tomoko Chikura was the most well-endowed of all of First High’s security detail when it came to magic that was well suited for protection.

“Anyway, what about you, Honoka?”

“Huh… What about me?”

Shizuku gave a hard stare in response to Honoka’s cluelessness.

A message popped up in the cabinet’s window, stating that their ride was about to reach its arrival station.

“I’ll ask later,” said Shizuku, turning to face forward.

Shizuku brought the topic up again after they’d finished eating, while they were in the bath.

“Are you doing okay, Honoka?”

“Huh? Did you say something? One sec.”

Honoka had been washing her hair; she turned the water off and looked at Shizuku, who was soaking in the tub.

“No, you can finish your hair first.”

“Okay. It’ll only take a second.”

After scrubbing her hair with shampoo one more time, Honoka took a towel from the storage rack, which was covered with a waterproof sheet. She ran it through her hair to dry it off, then put the damp towel into a mesh laundry bag before finally picking up the bottle of conditioner.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

“No, that’s okay. Whenever I ask you, you take a lot of time because you try to be perfect.”

“That’s fine, isn’t it? Let me do it.”

Shizuku got out of the bathtub. While dripping hot water onto the floor, she took the bottle away from Honoka with just a tiny bit of force.

“Your hair is so straight and pretty. I’m jealous,” sighed Shizuku as she ran her hand through Honoka’s wet hair.

“No, I… Well, compared with Miyuki…” murmured Honoka, looking down a little at the frank, straightforward praise.

“There’s no point comparing yourself with her,” objected Shizuku in all seriousness.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Honoka laughed a little, too.

Shizuku gently applied the conditioner to Honoka’s thinly bunched hair. “And I like your hair better anyway.”

“What?! That’s nepotism—or, at least, favoritism.”

“You’re my friend. Of course I’d be biased.”

Honoka was at a loss for words when she heard how seriously Shizuku had spoken.

“And if you ask me, Miyuki’s hair is too dark.”

In contrast, Shizuku was unusually talkative.

“I like your brighter hair better.”

“R-really? …Thanks.”

Did that final, softly spoken word reach Shizuku’s ears?

For a while, Shizuku worked through Honoka’s hair in silence, and Honoka let her do so.

Shizuku picked up the showerhead.

Honoka squeezed her eyes shut.

Careful to not miss a single spot, Shizuku used the water pressure to get the lather out.

Shizuku only brought up what she had wanted to say after Honoka was done washing her hair, as promised.

Honoka sat down in the bathtub facing her. The bath in Shizuku’s house was large, and despite this being the second bathroom, it was twice as spacious as a normal home’s. The tub itself was large, providing plenty of free space even with both of them in it together.

“Honoka?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you doing okay?”

“Wait, what do you mean? You asked that before, too…”

Shizuku gazed at Honoka’s face again. Deciding she didn’t seem to be feigning ignorance, Shizuku filled in the gap in her question. “Are you really okay with staying here in Tokyo? Didn’t you want to go to Kyoto, too?”

Honoka sucked in her breath and froze.

The temperature of the water lapping up against her skin hadn’t changed. But when Honoka’s body and face stiffened, it almost made Shizuku feel a chill.

“Well, I…”

“Sorry, I guess that was insensitive, huh?”

Shizuku looked away; Honoka had gone pale all the way to her lips.

“…It’s okay. You’ve always been rooting for me, so of course you’d want to know.”

Saying “Hold on a second,” Honoka took a few deep breaths. As she calmed herself, the color returned to her face. “Phew… It’s fine now, Shizuku. You can look this way.”

Shizuku obeyed and turned back. Once again, they were facing each other.

“To tell you the truth, obviously, I wanted to go to Kyoto with Tatsuya. I wouldn’t ask to be alone with him—that would be too much. I wouldn’t mind if Miyuki was there, too. I would’ve been okay as long as I could be with him.”

“…Then why?”

“Because I didn’t want to slow him down.”

Shizuku looked at Honoka’s face in surprise. Honoka gave a feeble, lonely smile in response. “I’m sure you’ve noticed it, too. The Thesis Competition wasn’t why Tatsuya told me to stay at your house.”

The light of comprehension flickered in Shizuku’s eyes.

“He’s really, truly worried about us. He’s not worried about lowly thieves going after competition data. I think there’s a strong enemy lurking around, like last year.”

“You think Tatsuya is on a mission, right?”

Shizuku hugged herself, shivering.

Honoka waded through the water and moved next to her.

When they sat next to each other like this, even the made-to-order tub was a little tight.

Nestled up against each other, Honoka put an arm around Shizuku’s shoulders.

Shizuku let down her own arms.

“Yeah… I think he’s on a mission for the JDF right now. And that maybe he’s up against a pretty big organization. So big he couldn’t ignore the possibility that one of us might be held hostage.”

“And that’s why he assigned a bodyguard to you?”

“It’s not just me. Assigning me a bodyguard means you’ll be protected, too, since you’re with me. I think that’s why Yoshida is sticking with Mizuki, too. Yoshida’s so good that he can make even pros look bad.”

“He’s definitely at home there.”

“Yeah.”

The two girls giggled, sharing a moment of skinship together.

But Honoka’s laughing soon faded.

“Even this first trip to Kyoto—I think their security preparation is nothing but a side thing. They’re making the trip for something else. Depending on how things go, it might turn violent. Everyone who Tatsuya picked to go with him tomorrow is good in real combat. Even Minami will probably be a big help if she needs to, what with that barrier magic.”

“I think you’re pretty good yourself, Honoka.”

“No, I wouldn’t work out. If I was just supporting from a distance, that would be one thing. But if I got attacked directly, I’d only slow Tatsuya down…”

Speaking from the perspective of a regular magician, Honoka’s combat skills certainly weren’t low. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call her first-rate for a high school student, at least. But compared with Miyuki, who was above first-rate even among regular magicians; and Tatsuya, who ranked further above that as a military magician even when rated solely on his combat abilities, even her best friend Shizuku couldn’t deny that she fell one or two levels below the others in terms of direct fighting strength. She had no more words of comfort to offer anymore.

“That’s why it’s okay.”

After her friend fell awkwardly silent, Honoka held Shizuku’s head in her arms.

She buried Shizuku’s face into her chest, leaving it barely more than half exposed over the water.

“Hnnka, thaph hrtts!”

“Hyaa?!”

Honoka let out a tickled-sounding cry and let go of her friend’s head.

Her mouth and nose free, Shizuku took a deep breath. She stared at Honoka bitterly—not at her face, but at her chest.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Apologizing, Honoka pushed herself against the side of the bathtub, covering her chest with her hands.

They both laughed out loud at the same time.

The awkward mood dissipated in an instant.

“I’m sorry, Shizuku.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“No, you brought it up because you were thinking about me. Like I said, there’s no need for you to apologize,” said Honoka, smiling, free from worry. “I really do want to go to Kyoto with them. But I also don’t want to slow them down. That’s why I’m being considerate and waiting in Tokyo this time. If Tatsuya doesn’t want me to notice, I’ll pretend not to notice. I’ll let myself be deceived, just like he wants.”

Shizuku offered a warm smile to those words. “You’re such a good woman, Honoka.”

Honoka broke her relaxed attitude in the blink of an eye.

“What…what do you mean by that?!”

“If I were a boy, I wouldn’t ever leave you alone.”

“Umm… Shizuku? That’s a scary look…”

“You have a great figure, too… And you look so cute, like you’re easy to get along with…”

Shizuku traced her slender finger up Honoka’s chin.

“Sh-Shizuku?! You’re acting kind of like Amy right now!”

“Hrm. I’m bigger than she is.”

“That’s not the problem here!”

“Are you trying to say there’s no real difference compared with you?”

“I was not saying that!”

“Let’s see here.”

“Kyaa!”

“…I knew it already, but this really is unfair.”

“Wait—Shizuku, please, sto—”

…What happened at this time in this place was not recorded here. But suffice it to say, being in the hot water for too long ended up making them very dizzy.