On the morning of the first day of the winter break, Tatsuya went to visit Four Leaves Technology’s R & D Section 3, leaving Miyuki to mind the house with Minami.

R & D Section 3 was essentially his home turf, and for that reason, he knew that if he’d brought his sister along, she would have been quite welcome and not at all treated as an imposition. But he had the suspicion that on this particular day, he himself wouldn’t have had any attention to spare, so he decided that it would be better to leave her be, relaxing at home.

And that was all because, today, Tatsuya planned to begin work on a new project. It wasn’t development of a new CAD but rather the design of a large-scale system that would make full use of magic engineering technology. It would take years for the system to be implemented; what Tatsuya was trying to create would require energy, resources, and circumstances that FLT alone would never be able to arrange.

The project was called “ESCAPES,” an acronym of “Extraction of both useful and harmful Substances from the Coastal Area of the Pacific using Electricity generated by a Stellar reactor.” But the title was also meant in the literal sense: It was an escape method.

In the project’s current state, all he could work on was completing the project protocols and the design of the systems that would go into it. Still, they had reached the point where the first step could finally be taken.

Tatsuya had had the vision for this project some three years earlier, in August of 2093, just a year after that fateful day in Okinawa. Loop casting, airborne devices, and the stellar generator were each components developed for this system, and a few days earlier, the final piece in the puzzle had come onto the horizon. There was still a lot of time left, both from the standpoint of the project’s realization and Tatsuya’s young age. Nevertheless, when he thought about what its realization would actually mean to him, he couldn’t help but feel motivated in a way he never had before.

But only an hour into his work, he found his zeal doused. Just as he was finishing a project outline, surrounded by data so sensitive he wasn’t allowed to transmit it even using quantum encryption, nor copy it to a data cube and bring it home to work on, he received an intercom call from a woman on R & D Section 3’s staff.

“My apologies for interrupting, Prince.”

He didn’t particularly want to stop his work, but for staff to interrupt him when he was shut away in his workshop like this, it had to be something important. Tatsuya lifted his fingers from the keyboard and answered the incoming call. “What is it?”

“Sir, an individual named Mitsugu Kuroba is asking to see you.”

Tatsuya frowned in spite of himself. So far as he was aware, Mitsugu had never visited FLT. His role in the Yotsuba organization was espionage, and as FLT was (one of) the Yotsubas’ pure sources of funding, it was outside of his jurisdiction. Even if he did have some business with Tatsuya, there wasn’t an obvious reason why he would need to pay this place a visit personally.

Tatsuya immediately determined that he didn’t have enough information available to form a conjecture as to Mitsugu’s motive. Whatever it was, he needed to meet Mitsugu and figure it out. Having decided as much, Tatsuya requested a meeting room that was unconnected to the online monitoring system. “I’ll see him. Please arrange an offline meeting.”

Upon entering the meeting room, Tatsuya locked the door before greeting his guest.

When Tatsuya turned back around, Mitsugu did not stand from the sofa where he sat. All he did to acknowledge Tatsuya’s arrival was to remove the fedora he’d been fiddling with uneasily and place it on the sofa beside him.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Kuroba. I haven’t seen you since this past summer, I believe.”

“Yeah.” Mitsugu gave a sullen nod—and not just because the phrase this past summer called to mind the bitter memories of the grievous damage Gongjin Zhou had inflicted. Mitsugu’s expression had been sour even before Tatsuya had arrived.

“May I sit?”

Mitsugu assented wordlessly, and Tatsuya sat down across from him, looking squarely at the other man’s face. The difference in their age could have made them father and son, but Tatsuya’s face betrayed not even a hint of deference, nor did he try to puff himself up.

Mitsugu’s lip twisted in irritation. He looked on the verge of clicking his tongue in contempt.

Nonetheless, Mitsugu had no inclination to dismiss Tatsuya as “a mere glorified bodyguard.” Although Tatsuya was the nephew of Maya Yotsuba, the current head of the Yotsuba family and the older brother of Miyuki, one of the candidates to become the next head, some among the Yotsuba clan—particularly the servants far removed from actual combat—found him easy to disparage, saying things like, “What good is someone with the Yotsuba blood running through their veins who can’t even do proper magic?” and “They only gave him the job of guarding his sister out of pity.”

But Mitsugu knew perfectly well that Tatsuya was more than that. It was true that in a conventional sense Tatsuya was deficient as a magician, but he had unusual abilities that more than made up for any of his defects.

Mitsugu found Tatsuya’s bearing irritating for a single reason: It galled him to be treated as an equal by a boy the same age as his own son.

Mitsugu’s expression gave no quarter. Indeed, if one of them could be said to be putting on any sort of airs, it was him.

“May I ask what business brings you here?” Tatsuya finally asked, after Mitsugu remained silent. “I’m rather busy, you see.”

While the manner of asking wasn’t particularly rude, the question itself, posed to an elder, was unmistakably so. But Mitsugu restrained himself. He was the one who’d come here uninvited, and he had enough perspective to know that losing his temper over something so minor would be disgraceful.

Mitsugu’s statement contained only his demand, as though he were refusing to keep up any sort of appearance of propriety: “Recuse yourself from the New Year’s celebration.”

“I had no intention of attending in the first place.”

“What…?” This answer was, apparently, completely outside of the man’s expectations. The stony-faced expression he’d worn ever since Tatsuya entered the meeting room fell for the first time, replaced by one of honest surprise.

“I never expected or planned to attend the New Year’s celebration. Miyuki is the one the family head ordered to attend.”

Tatsuya referred to his aunt Maya as the family head. In doing so, he implied that Miyuki’s attendance meant that she would be chosen as the next family head and, furthermore, that Mitsugu’s interference was misplaced.

“Such quibbling…!” Mitsugu clicked his tongue, fully abandoning his previous effort to maintain decorum, such as it was. But his tone was a bit calmer now, either because Tatsuya wasn’t the object of his ire or because he was simply running out of gas. “In that case, I ask that you persuade your sister not to attend.”

The request’s politeness did nothing to change whether Tatsuya was able to accommodate it, though. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Mitsugu had expected to be refused, but the direction of Tatsuya’s answer was slightly different from what he’d anticipated. “If I were to ask her, I doubt your sister would agree to it. That’s why I’m asking you to convince her.”

“I’m not talking about Miyuki. Why don’t you ask the family head to rescind the invitation?”

Mitsugu was momentarily stuck for an answer. “…I should think that goes without saying. I have protested that it is too soon many times to Maya.”

“If that’s true, then what point is there in asking me to stop Miyuki from attending the celebration? Even if she were to decline the invitation, the family head would hardly accept that.”

Mitsugu fell silent at the irrefutable logic of Tatsuya’s point.

A sly smile crept onto Tatsuya’s face. “I don’t blame you for thinking it’s too soon, though. I’m sure you want Fumiya to get a bit more accomplished before you put him up as a candidate for head.”

“Nonsense!” Mitsugu protested. His right hand came up from where it rested on his thigh and froze in a trembling clench from the effort required to resist his initial temptation to slam it down on the table in anger. “I’ve never had any inclination for Fumiya to assume leadership of the Yotsuba clan. His disposition is far too gentle, for one thing. In my view, as far as magical prowess goes, Miyuki is well suited to become the next head.”

Tatsuya couldn’t help but feel some surprise at this response. Until just now, he’d fully assumed that Mitsugu wanted Fumiya to become the next head.

But he set his own misunderstanding aside and instead attempted to discern Mitsugu’s true aim. “All right, so in what way is it ‘too soon,’ then?”

Mitsugu hesitated to answer for a breath, instead regarding Tatsuya haughtily. “At the upcoming New Year’s celebration, the next family head will be announced. And Maya intends to name Miyuki as her successor.”

“I see,” replied Tatsuya neutrally, as though hearing this information for the first time, even though it was what he’d expected.

“However, I believe that Miyuki’s appointment as successor should be delayed until a certain important condition is dealt with. And I’m not the only one. Four families—the Shiiba, Mashiba, Shibata, and Shizuka—are of like mind on the matter.”

“Meaning the branch families are in agreement, save for the Mugura and Tsukuba? So what is this condition?”

Mitsugu grinned unpleasantly. “Dealing with you.” His eyes glittered with a darkness like tar. “In two more years, the Sakura-series-engineered magician Minami Sakurai will have gained enough power to be the Guardian of the Yotsuba clan. Even among the engineered employed by the clan, she is notable for her excellence. This would render you obsolete.”

Mitsugu seemed uncharacteristically drunk on his own words as he continued. “Don’t worry. We’ll let you graduate from the Magic University. After that, you’ll continue to contribute to the Yotsuba clan finances through your work as ‘Taurus Silver.’ There’ll be no need for you to work for national defense, so you’ll be released from your position as a special officer.”

Mitsugu’s eyes were still dark as the corners of his lips curled up. “Ah, right. Your father’s shares in FLT will also be transferred to you. We can’t very well reveal your existence to the public, so you can’t be CEO, but you’ll be the majority shareholder.”

“Not like I have any interest in that,” Tatsuya said tersely, cutting Mitsugu off. “None of what you’ve just described is within your power to decide on your own, Mr. Kuroba.” It will be Maya who decides—he left the fact implied. “Making verbal promises like that, someone might start to suspect you of plotting rebellion.”

“…I have no such intention.” The dark smile on Mitsugu’s face vanished, as though the spirit possessing him had released him. He looked down and fell silent, as though realizing he’d been acting abnormally.

“Mr. Kuroba, it will be my aunt, the head of the family, who decides whether Miyuki will attend the New Year’s celebration. Neither Miyuki nor I can promise her absence on our own. Is that, at least, clear enough?”

“Nonetheless,” the man said, his downcast eyes fixed on the table between them, “I don’t want to make Fumiya or Ayako unhappy.”

Tatsuya’s eyes narrowed piercingly. “Is that so?”

Mitsugu looked up and met Tatsuya’s gaze accusingly. “I said as much, did I not? I won’t do anything.”

“So you’re simply waiting for your opportunity, then.”

“I’m neutral. I’m no friend of yours, but for my children’s sake, I won’t move against you,” he said past gritted teeth.

Tatsuya processed this information as a given. “I suppose if I were to ask you why you’d go to such lengths to distance me from my sister, you wouldn’t tell me.”

Mitsugu stood. Instead of taking his leave with any sort of etiquette, he said, “If you can make it to headquarters by the deadline, I’ll tell you,” and left.

Like any normal high school student (or perhaps not), Miyuki spent the first day of winter break doing her homework, and it was shortly after she’d finished eating lunch that an unexpected visitor arrived to call upon her.

“It’s been a while, Miyuki. You look quite well.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, Yuuka. Please, come in.”

The guest who sat across from Miyuki in her living room was named Yuuka Tsukuba. She was the oldest daughter of the Tsukuba family, a branch family of the Yotsuba, and one of the candidates to become the next family head.

She was twenty-two years old. She was a former vice president of First High’s student council and currently a senior at the Magic University. Her straight black hair reached her shoulders, and it was parted on the side such that it revealed her right ear, which was pierced with a glittering stud. Her makeup was perfect, too; she was the very image of a sophisticated college student.

Miyuki and Yuuka’s relationship could be summed up with a single word: neutral. And more specifically: mutual noninterference. Yuuka neither regarded Miyuki as a rival the way Ayako did, nor was she friendly like Fumiya was, nor was she openly hostile the way the other family head candidate—Katsushige, from the Shibata family—was. In a way, Yuuka was the least likely person to visit Miyuki like this. A less surprising scenario would have been Katsushige arriving uninvited to make some declaration of war.

Nevertheless, Yuuka did not regard Miyuki with any animosity. They were both candidates for leadership of the family. If she was going to come visit, so long as it wasn’t at some unearthly hour, there was no reason to turn her away.

“It’s been almost a year since the last New Year.”

“Yes, it has.”

“We both live in Tokyo, but it seems like we don’t get many chances to see each other.”

“Tokyo’s a big place, after all.”

“True. You can really feel it in times like these, though. You’re a junior at First High, right? And I hear you’re the student council president?”

“That’s right. You’re well-informed.”

“Well, it’s my alma mater. You’re awfully active in the school, too, I hear.”

“I know it’s not really ideal at this stage to stick out that much, but I feel like stepping back from activities would be rude, somehow, so I end up like this. You’ll be graduating soon, right, Yuuka?”

“That’s right. But I’m just continuing on into grad school, so…”

“You’re not going to go help the family?”

“Seems like they want me to rack up a little more substance. Little late for that.”

Minami brought tea as the two conversed innocuously.

The tone was innocuous enough, but the content was actually quite accusing. Yuuka’s comment that Miyuki was awfully active was clearly implying that Miyuki stood out too much, and Miyuki’s reply that she didn’t want to step back for fear of being rude was meant to criticize Yuuka’s disguising of her abilities during her own high school years.

Thereafter, Miyuki’s question about helping the family was a sly way of asking whether Yuuka was going to leak secret Yotsuba technology to the university.

Though she was certainly capable of holding her own in one, this sort of underhanded conversation was not something Miyuki enjoyed. She welcomed the opportunity to start over, which the tea’s arrival brought.

As she and Yuuka simultaneously set their cups down on their saucers, Miyuki broached the topic of Yuuka’s visit.

“So, Yuuka—what brings you here today?”

Yuuka dropped her roundabout play at the question. “About the upcoming New Year’s celebration—would you like to accompany me?”

“…Are you asking me to travel with you from Tokyo to the family home?”

“Yup. I’ll have a car, so you should ride with me.”

“May I ask your reason for this?”

Miyuki couldn’t hide the wariness that welled up within her. It was unavoidable; Yuuka was one of her rivals to take over leadership of the family, and normally they had very little interaction. Apart from being related by blood, they were practically strangers, and Miyuki knew almost nothing about her save her face.

Letting her suspicion show was a rookie negotiation error, but Yuuka gave no evidence that she’d noticed. Miyuki’s halo effect led most people to underestimate her. Despite her superb skill with magic and her rare beauty, Miyuki was still only sixteen years old, six years younger than Yuuka—but Yuuka was perfectly aware that her excellence was far from superficial and so cleanly evaded this logic trap.

“My reason? Well…do I have to say?” Yuuka asked with coquettishly upturned eyes. She was met only by a cold gaze from her conversation partner. “Oh, fine,” she said, quickly abandoning the joke, evidently not seriously attempting any deception. “The reason is that I’ve lost my bodyguard.”

“Lost? I thought you had a Guardian—”

Miyuki was about to get up from the sofa, but Yuuka closed her eyes and shook her head rapidly, stopping her. “Not anymore. Vanished before my very eyes. I guess died is a better word.”

Miyuki covered her mouth with her hand briefly, just long enough to blink.

She was ashamed at her ignorance. She ought to have known that lost was a euphemism for killed.

Yuuka was a magician of the Yotsuba and an adult in her own right. Given her magical specialization, she wasn’t likely to be sent on dangerous missions, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. Which meant that the probability of her Guardian being killed in the line of duty was not zero.

And Yuuka specialized in mental interference magic. It was entirely plausible that someone who knew her abilities would target her for her genetic qualities.

“I’m…so sorry for your loss.”

Yuuka shook her head again at the words Miyuki offered with a bow. “Condolences aren’t right for this. Her job was to protect me with her life, and she fulfilled her duty. She’ll never again have to fear putting herself in danger for my sake. If there is an afterlife, I know she’s breathing a sigh of relief there at no longer being led around by a selfish little brat.”

Yuuka’s frankness sat poorly with Miyuki.

“Even as a joke, that seems a bit thoughtless to say of one who died protecting you, just because they happened to serve as a Guardian.”

Yuuka blinked several times at the unexpected statement. “…That’s right, your Guardian is your older brother, isn’t it? I apologize if I put unpleasant thoughts in your mind.”

Superficially, Yuuka’s apology seemed sincere, but something else crept into the edges of her words, and Miyuki found herself unable to take the contrition at face value. “That’s not something that’s only between my brother and me. Setting aside Fumiya, who doesn’t formally have a Guardian, Katsushige values Kotona very highly, doesn’t he?”

Kotona Tsutsumi was Katsushige Shibata’s Guardian, and it was clear that she was very precious to him. But the example was a poor one. Despite Miyuki’s intention to cite that fact to provoke some reflection on Yuuka’s part, she merely chuckled quietly instead. “Katsushige and Kotona? Well…you know how they are.”

Miyuki stared dumbfounded at Yuuka as she continued to giggle with her head turned askance. Miyuki couldn’t deny her own misstep.

“Even if my brother and I don’t accompany you, surely you’ll be able to quickly arrange for a bodyguard, won’t you? Unlike us, you’re affiliated with the Tsukuba family.”

Yuuka stopped laughing and gave Miyuki a sidelong glance. “True, but…” she started, re-squaring herself to Miyuki, “there aren’t many who are as capable as your brother…and it wouldn’t be a bad arrangement for you two, either, would it? You can’t take a taxi to the main house, and Tatsuya only has a motorcycle license, right?”

It was true that she couldn’t very well direct a cabdriver to the headquarters of the Yotsuba clan, which didn’t appear on any maps, and she had enough stuff she needed to bring with her that going by motorcycle wasn’t practical.

But none of that had ever been a problem. “All I need to do is call in advance, and the family will send someone to pick me up from the train station. That’s what I did last year, and that’s what I plan to do this year.”

Miyuki was a candidate to become the family’s next leader, and moreover, she was the niece of the current head. She was certainly important enough to merit VIP treatment in the form of a ride from the station.

“Isn’t that what you yourself did last year, too, Yuuka?”

Automotive engineering had already achieved near-ubiquitous semiautomatic driving. Even without the support of automated traffic management, the burden on the driver was far less than it had been in the previous century.

That said, the driving of a motor vehicle was not yet completely effortless. The two hours it took to drive from Tokyo to the Yotsuba headquarters could be done nonstop, but if she could arrange to be picked up, it would be far easier to take a cabinet to the nearest station and switch to a car from there. There was no reason for her to drive herself.

“I don’t particularly mind if you do that, but I really do think you should reconsider.”

“Why is that? It didn’t cause any inconvenience before.”

“Not last year, no. However, this year, I do recommend reconsidering. I can’t say why, though.”

If Yuuka couldn’t say why, that meant it wasn’t some vague concern but rather something very specific.

“What do you know, Yuuka?”

“I can’t say.”

“…Why can’t I do the same thing I did last year? What benefit is there to traveling with you?”

“I can’t say.” Yuuka met Miyuki’s serious gaze with perfectly feigned innocence.

“I see.” Miyuki stopped pushing, but not because she had lost her nerve. She simply didn’t have any way to force Yuuka to give up any information.

Not even magic.

Yotsuba magicians were divided into two types: those who specialized in mental interference magic, and those who specialized in extremely powerful forms of unique magic. As a magician, both categories applied to Miyuki, who practiced a very powerful, unique form of mental interference magic. Yuuka, meanwhile, practiced the archetypical form of mental interference magic.

If it came down to a fight between the two, Yuuka would be far superior at extracting information with a psychological suggestion. Without becoming openly hostile, Miyuki had no way to force her to divulge whatever she was hiding.

“I will inform you of my decision after I have discussed the matter with my brother.”

“Oh? Well, I’ll hope for a favorable answer. For both our sakes.” Yuuka stood. As Minami held the front door open in the entryway, Yuuka offered, “The tea was delicious,” and then, as Miyuki watched her go, left the Shiba house with a nonchalant, “See ya round.”

“Yuuka said all that?” After returning home, Tatsuya took in his sister’s report of Yuuka’s visit, then mulled it over. Naturally, with only that much information, he was also unable to determine the truth of what Yuuka—and by extension, the entire Tsukuba clan—wanted. But he was certain that Yuuka’s request and Mitsugu’s unreasonable demand were somehow related. “And you’re certain she wasn’t just being vague about it? She definitely knew something but said she couldn’t say what it was?”

“Yes. It seemed like she wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she knew something.”

Which meant that there was something to know. That wasn’t even a deduction; it was an established fact. And it wasn’t about the New Year’s celebration itself but rather something between their home and Yotsuba headquarters.

There was also some degree of possibility that Yuuka was trying to sow uncertainty enough to stop Tatsuya and Miyuki from attending the celebration entirely. But—

It probably means that an attack on us is being planned.

That seemed the likeliest possibility, taking Mitsugu’s intimidation into account.

But where will they attack? And more important, who’s the target? Is it Miyuki? Or could it be me?

If Tatsuya was the target, there were any number of leads to consider. Any time he did a black op, he did his very best to make sure his identity wasn’t revealed. He was sure he hadn’t left any witnesses. But if he’d made some mistake and revealed an operation as his doing, there could certainly be an organization or two somewhere out there willing to disregard the risk in order to exact retribution.

But even supposing a revenge plot from some criminal organization, why would they go to all the trouble of choosing this particular moment? It didn’t make sense. Choosing a place with fewer witnesses would have the opposite of the desired effect when the target was a magician; because the targeted party would have the excuse of self-defense when counterattacking with magic, it made it that much riskier to attack at all.

On the other hand, if the target was Miyuki, their antagonist’s aims were quickly narrowed down—it would involve the succession of the Yotsuba clan’s leadership. It seemed to Tatsuya that there was little to be gained in taking leadership at the expense of others. If Miyuki wanted to recuse herself, he certainly wouldn’t stop her. To his eye, the other candidates for the position weren’t especially enthusiastic about it. It was the older generation that cared so much.

But that didn’t mean that none of the candidates would be willing to take drastic action, given their elders’ feelings. The route from the train station to the family headquarters ran through the Yotsubas’ core land holdings, which meant it was the home field for the branch families as well. It was the perfect place for deniability.

If Miyuki was the target, they ought to take Yuuka up on her offer. Having her with them might convince any attackers to cancel their operation, and in case they really were attacked, it would make the Tsukuba clan their ally.

If Tatsuya was the target, however, getting Yuuka involved would only weaken their position. Although the invitation to travel together had come from her, the fact that she’d gotten mixed up in an attack at all might well be weighted more heavily.

And even if it wasn’t and they accepted Yuuka’s proposal, they might then be forced into making a concession of some kind. By traveling with them, Yuuka might be forcing the hand of the person directing the attack. But that still left Tatsuya and Miyuki responsible for getting Yuuka involved. Either way, the one who stood to gain was Yuuka. Even if Miyuki saw no merit in the position of family head, owing a debt to someone very likely to become family head herself had obvious downsides.

“…Let’s refuse,” Tatsuya said after a length of silent rumination. He could still hear the voice in his mind telling him that it would be better to take Yuuka up on her offer. His intuition whispered that they ought to travel with her, but the situation was too murky, and after considering the various costs and benefits, he had decided that the costs were too high.

“I understand. I’ll let Yuuka know, then.” Miyuki bowed to her brother and went upstairs to make the call from the visiphone in her bedroom rather than the big display in the living room.

“…I’m sorry. You went to all the trouble of coming to invite us in person.”

“I’m sorry, too, but don’t worry about it. It was rather sudden, after all.”

“My sincere apologies.”

“It’s fine! But if you change your mind, call me anytime. Anytime, you understand?”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

“Bye, now. Good luck. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Yuuka replaced the visiphone on the table and reclined luxuriously on her own living room sofa, stretching her legs out as she did so. It was a bit of an unseemly pose for a young lady, but at the moment, she lived alone in her condo. There was neither servants haranguing her about her poor manners, nor her mother, who was overfond of lectures.

Until she’d turned twenty, her mother and the housekeeper had taken turns staying here, but that had stopped upon her reaching the age of maturity. So far as Yuuka could manage, she’d packed twenty years of freedom into the past two years. It was only after the loss of her Guardian, who’d never spoken a word against Yuuka’s private life, that Yuuka began to suspect that a life lived entirely selfishly might not be an unmitigated good.

Staying in her relaxed position, she mulled over Miyuki’s response.

She’d expected to be turned down. In fact, if they’d taken her up on it with the amount of information she’d given them, Yuuka would have felt her fun to be a little bit spoiled. In that unlikely event, Yuuka might have demanded to be named the next family head on the grounds that Miyuki had been so easily taken in by a ruse.

Not that Yuuka particularly wanted the position, though.

The fact that there were multiple candidates in the first place was solely for the sake of appearances. If the Yotsuba rule that the family head must always be the most powerful magician was faithfully followed, then the next head would undoubtedly be Miyuki Shiba. There were no magicians greater than her within the Yotsuba. Even including the current head, Maya, the most powerful magician in the family was Miyuki. Or at least, the Tsukuba family acknowledged as much.

Yuuka—or rather, the Tsukuba family as a whole—had decided to back Miyuki as their choice for successor two years earlier. Yuuka not becoming the head herself was the precondition for her release from the tiresome observation she’d lived under. The only reason she hadn’t withdrawn from formal consideration was that her candidacy was still useful as a bargaining chip in ongoing negotiations with the other branch families.

“And Miyuki has that ‘brother’ of hers…”

Yuuka knew what had “happened” around Tsushima and the southern tip of the Korean Peninsula on October 31 of the previous year. And she also knew what had happened in August, four years earlier, in Okinawa.

“I honestly don’t think I could take Miyuki on by herself, but with that human weapon on her side? That’s dirty pool.”

Yuuka didn’t drink, but in times like this, she found herself wishing she did. Ever since the creation of some terrible memories after an impulsive experiment with wine (fortunately, advancements in medication quickly cured the hangover) she’d never touched the stuff.

She settled for the appearance instead, pouring some rosehip tea into a glass cup and then holding it aloft to appreciate its color as she spoke to herself. “Still…moving against Tatsuya isn’t a sane thing to do. There’s no guarantee he’ll stay well-behaved. Why are Grandfather Shibata, Uncle Kuroba, and Uncle Shizuka so determined to have him as an enemy? It seems to me that Tatsuya’s crucial to the Yotsubas’ military power…”

Tipping the glass teacup slightly, Yuuka frowned. It was still too hot, and looking closely at the color, she saw she’d over-steeped it. “And it’s not just my uncles… Even the servants of the main house seem to think Tatsuya’s somehow illegitimate. What’s the point of them rubbing it in his face like that?”

She took a sip of the tea. She didn’t frown this time, being well used to its tartness. “And Mother refuses to tell me why it is that Tatsuya just accepts such treatment… Is there some deeper connection here that I don’t know about?”

Yuuka set down the half-full teacup and stood. She headed for the bathroom, while behind her a HAR manipulator arm picked up the teacup and carried it to the kitchen.

If Miyuki was named as the next family head at the upcoming New Year’s celebration, Yuuka was silently certain that whatever the reason for Tatsuya’s contemptuous treatment, it would come to light.

After Yuuka’s call, Miyuki had placed a call to the main house and requested an escort come to pick her up at the station on December 29. When her presence was required at a New Year’s celebration, normally arriving on the thirty-first would give her enough time to prepare, but the reason she was arriving on the twenty-ninth was the complications she was certain would arise.

The butler who answered the phone, Obara, was a former traffic-control police officer and the person who normally handled arrangements like this.

After her call to Obara, arrangements were made for a car to pick them up from the station at 1:00 PM. There wasn’t any particular need for secrecy, in this case. Quite the contrary—in order to avoid any bungling of Miyuki’s arrival time, the entire staff of the main house would be informed.

Katsushige Shibata had joined the staff of the Ministry of Defense just this year. There were periodic compulsory vacation days, but the duties were mostly regular, although unlike school, there was no long winter break. He had just arrived home from another day of work packed full of the type of tasks given to junior staff members, which one, if they were being uncharitable, might call menial.

Then, as though it had been waiting for that very moment to pounce, his visiphone rang.

“Mr. Katsushige, I’m happy to—” began Kotona, having met him in his apartment’s entryway.

“No, I’ll get it,” he said, stopping her from returning to the living room and instead himself answering the call on a terminal set into the wall.

Appearing on the display was his father, the head of the Shibata family—one of the Yotsubas’ branch families—whom Katsushige had met just three days earlier.

“Father. What is it?”

“Ah, Katsushige. You’re home?”

“Yes, I just got home.”

“I see. Well, have a seat,” Osamu said from the other side of the screen.

Ah, so this is going to take a while, Katsushige realized and sat down on the sofa across from the display.

The mass-produced sofa set was a bit cramped for his five-foot-eleven, 175-pound frame, which itself seemed somewhat wasted on an office job. But Katsushige was used to this and adroitly fit his long legs in the space between the sofa and its matching coffee table, composing himself there.

“So, Katsushige, how’s work going?”

“I’m still the new guy, so… And didn’t you ask me the same question three days ago?”

“Hmph. Did I…?” Katsushige’s father had a military disposition, and it was rare to see him stumble over his words like this. Whatever he had called to say, he clearly didn’t want to say it.

So Katsushige decided to broach the subject himself. “Father, is this about the upcoming New Year’s celebration?” In three more days, they’d be face-to-face, but his father had gone to the trouble of calling. Given the circumstances, Katsushige couldn’t think of anything else it could be.

“Yes. Just recently, Miyuki Shiba contacted Obara. Evidently she intends to arrive at the main house on the twenty-ninth.”

“Miyuki’s coming on the twenty-ninth, too?”

The Ministry of Defense—along with the rest of the central government—did not have a New Year’s holiday. A certain number of staff members were always kept in the office in case of unexpected circumstances. And with the constant outbreaks of war in the world, the Ministry of Defense in particular was a year-round operation. But Katsushige the rookie had been given the traditional time off beginning December 29.

“Okay, what of it, then?” Katsushige asked confusedly, the image of his young relative’s inhumanly fine features appearing in his mind. Given that attendance at the New Year’s celebration was mandatory for all candidates for family head, he didn’t see what was particularly odd about her plans. He couldn’t understand why his father would go to all the trouble to call him over the girl’s attendance.

“Katsushige.”

“Yes, sir…?” He felt increasing confusion at his father’s repetition of his name, but such trivial concerns were blown away by the impact of the words that followed.

“You must not allow Miyuki to attend the celebration.”

Katsushige fell silent. It wasn’t that he was at a loss for words but rather that so many questions rose up within him that he didn’t know which one to ask first.

He finally chose an obvious one with a high degree of usefulness: “Can I ask the reason?”

“Maya intends to name Miyuki as the next family head at the celebration.”

“I see. That’s unfortunate,” Katsushige answered, mildly surprised at how little this revelation shocked him.

Miyuki was a talented magician, and she excelled at the mental interference magic that was the Yotsuba family’s specialty. Katsushige was well aware that she was the most powerful of all the candidates.

But even if aptitude in mental interference magic was an important quality for a candidate, it wasn’t an absolute requirement. While the previous head, Eisaku, and the one before him, Genzou, had both been mental interference magicians, the current head was Maya, who had no ability in this particular school of magic—particularly when compared to her sister Miya, who specialized in mental structure interference. And when it came to direct combat magic, Katsushige felt that his ability outstripped Miyuki’s.

Katsushige had thought that his odds of becoming the next family head were, at least, not bad. But the fact that he wasn’t terribly surprised to hear otherwise meant something. I suppose I already knew, at some level, that Miyuki was the better Yotsuba magician.

“Father, are you worried about me? Because I’m fine. I’m an adult, you know. I’m perfectly capable of wishing her well.” It didn’t take much effort for Katsushige to summon a smile to his face.

“That is not the problem,” came a sharp rebuttal from his father, followed by a shocking statement. “Maya intends to name Miyuki as the next family head at the celebration, but we must not let that happen.”

“Father…are you planning to revolt against the family head? Against the Yotsuba?” Katsushige said with a strong note of rebuke in his voice. “On paper, the next head is supposed to be decided after the main family head consults with the branch family heads, but given the influence the main head can bring to bear on the whole family, the naming of the next head is essentially the current head’s prerogative. Even if you were able to get all the branch families to agree to back me for the next head, I can’t imagine it would be enough to seize control of the entire clan. Surely you must see that, too, Father.”

In defiance of his expectations, Osamu nodded. “I do. And I have no intention of opposing Miyuki’s appointment as the next head itself, although I do think you’re a more suitable candidate.”

“…Then what are you getting at?”

“There is no stopping Miyuki from becoming the next head. But it is still too soon for that.”

“Just because Miyuki is named as her successor, I can’t imagine Ms. Maya retiring any time soon.”

“I’m telling you that it’s too soon for Miyuki to be named as her successor.”

“She’s only sixteen years old. It’s no surprise she’s still a bit green in some areas.”

Katsushige didn’t understand his father’s real motivations. He could understand if the complaint had been that Miyuki was too young to immediately succeed Maya, but what was the problem with her simply being named as the eventual successor?

“I have no issue with Miyuki herself. I’m sure she’s a magician worthy of leading the Yotsuba clan.”

At Osamu’s words, Katsushige grew still more confused. “…So what do you have an issue with?”

“The problem is with the boy who’s her Guardian.”

“Tatsuya? I can see why he might leave something to be desired as a magician overall, but as a combat magician, he’s undeniably powerful. And as Taurus Silver, he’s significantly improved the Yotsuba clan’s financial position. Above all else, as a strategic-class magician, he’s become Japan’s trump card. Compared to his Material Burst, even Mio Itsuwa’s Abyss seems limited, since it’s restricted to watery environments.”

“Material Burst is precisely the problem. It’s too powerful. Working in the Ministry of Defense, you should know better than me that its use off the southern tip of the Korean Peninsula was what pushed us into secret negotiations with the anti-Japanese military forces.”

“There have been such activities, yes, but behind that, there’s also been an increase in contact working toward a security treaty for Japan. The New Soviet Union is among the nations that have started seeking an alliance with us. The increase in tensions with the USNA is a downside, it’s true, but within the ministry, it’s accepted that this is outweighed by the restraint it imposes on the nations immediately surrounding us.”

“If his value as a political instrument is already that high, then it’s that much more important to isolate him from the Yotsuba centers of influence, to preclude the possibility of the family being drawn into political power plays. And to do that, we need a bit more time. If Miyuki is named successor now, it will automatically place him right beside the next head of the family. And for the future of the Yotsuba clan, nothing could be worse.”

Osamu’s position seemed logical, but Katsushige couldn’t help but try to rationalize the visceral aversion he felt to it. “But, Father, why do you—no, not just you—why do the heads of all the branch families want so badly to see Tatsuya eliminated?”

All expression faded from Osamu’s face as he attempted to hide how much the question disturbed him. But Katsushige could see that the other side of that expressionlessness was an accumulation of not days’ but years’ worth of grievances.

“A power so great threatens the very stability of the world. What we are seeking is power that harms no one. We have no wish for power to make the world tremble.”

“But that’s not Tatsuya’s responsibility, is it?”

“We have no intention of shouldering the responsibility for him. What we see as our responsibility is to seal that boy and his magic away.”

Katsushige realized that trying to persuade his father otherwise was folly. He decided instead to try and keep the danger to his fellow family members as low as possible. “What should I do, then?”

“The Mashiba and Shizuka families are already moving against him.”

“Is Mr. Kuroba not taking any action?” Katsushige’s surprise motivated the question. Neither the Mashiba nor Shizuka families specialized in covert operations. They were roughly as capable of it as any of the other Ten Master Clans, but it was the Kuroba family who were the espionage specialists of the Yotsuba as a whole. For an operation requiring as much subtlety as this one, it would be very strange for the Kuroba family not to be involved.

“The Kuroba have already agreed to the necessity of Tatsuya Shiba’s removal. But because Mr. Kuroba’s children have been manipulated by Tatsuya into having a favorable view of him, he’s said they’re holding back from taking immediate action.”

His father’s explanation made it clear that the branch families were united in this purpose but included the fact that the family most likely to be effective in the operation was dropping out of actual participation. The entire situation made Katsushige anxious about the future, and he quickly decided that he would do the most good by trying to minimize harm. To do so, he needed to know more about their preparations.

“I see. So what, specifically, are you planning to do?” he asked.

“There’s no need to harm Miyuki. The goal is to simply delay her. Ensuring she doesn’t arrive by New Year’s Day will be sufficient.” Katsushige felt marginally relieved upon hearing this surprisingly peaceful tactic. “Your role will come on December thirty-first. So long as we successfully delay her until then, all will be well. If Mashiba and Shizuka fail, you’ll be the last line of defense.”

“Please give me as much detail as you can. If you know them, please include the Mashiba and Shizuka operational plans, as well.”

In response to his son’s question, all the machinations’ details poured from Osamu’s mouth.

Thursday, December 27, evening.

At the National Defense Force’s Matsumoto Base, First Lieutenant Yaguchi collapsed onto his bed.

As an officer, he had been trained to be a constant example to enlisted soldiers, right down to his personal grooming, and as such, he’d managed to at least keep showering—but beyond that, Yaguchi had nothing left to give.

It was an incident that led to the dismissal of a commanding officer he deeply respected that had fueled Yaguchi’s descent into apathy.

Until that incident, Lieutenant Yaguchi had been a member of the Anti–Great Asian Alliance unit. Led by Colonel Sakai, the fervently patriotic unit kept to the highest standards of conduct regardless of how coldly the rest of the military treated them, openly objecting to the danger that they saw in compromising with the Alliance and the nation behind it. After the Scorching Halloween offered a rare opportunity, and the top brass opted instead to hasten a cease-fire, Colonel Sakai refused to dirty his hands with it, instead continuing to protest.

Finally, just when others in the National Defense Force began to come around, the other shoe dropped: The existence of Parasidolls was revealed to the public, along with suspicions that minors—high school students—had been used as experimental subjects.

But the leak was all part of the Kudo family’s plan. Colonel Sakai and his confederates had clearly been set up, and so it was that the man at the heart of the Anti–Great Asian Alliance unit was sent to a military prison. The maximum sentence was five years, but even once it was served, he wouldn’t be allowed to return to military service. It was even doubtful whether he would leave prison alive. Many of the brass who’d backed him had died mysterious deaths even before beginning their sentences.

Because of his youth and his low rank, Lieutenant Yaguchi had avoided being implicated. At the time, it was significant that he had not been present at the scene. He’d been transferred to Matsumoto Base from his previous posting as a test pilot for a special mobile infantry unit that was evaluating mechanized armor—essentially powered suits—for practical deployment. It wasn’t a demotion, though, as his training as an officer had thoroughly taught him the value of ordinary military service, so Yaguchi didn’t feel he’d been relegated to the hinterlands at all.

And so he assiduously participated in each drill and exercise, every inch the exemplary soldier, determined not to further damage the reputations of his former superiors, the hard-liners, who’d been so unfairly accused.

Yaguchi was tired. An outside observer would have said he was pushing himself too hard. Despite his total loss of motivation, he continued to force his body to move. He was mentally depleted, as well—which explained why he’d lent his ear to a strange whisper that day.

There should have been no one in the room except for him. He bolted upright from where he lay in his bed. Exhausted or not, his training had sharpened his hearing to a perfect edge. “Who’s there?!” he called.

“It was the Yotsuba of the Ten Master Clans who arranged the downfall of Colonel Sakai and the rest of the Anti–Great Asian Alliance hard-liners.” The strangely withered voice came from a corner of the room. It was a lifeless sound, like it could have easily been mistaken for the winter wind blowing through a stand of bare trees.

“…Is that true? Who are you anyway? What proof of that do you have?”

“I cannot show you any proof, but it is true.”

Yaguchi’s immediate suspicion wasn’t just the result of his military training; it was the natural human reaction. “But why would one of the Ten Master Clans do that? Why would the Yotsuba?”

But despite his misgivings, what the voice told him next was something Lieutenant Yaguchi couldn’t ignore: “The figure who directed the Yotsuba against Colonel Sakai is not yet satisfied.”

As Yaguchi fixed his gaze in the direction of the voice, he could make out a humanoid shadow faintly haunting that corner of the room. That was where the cold, withered sound was coming from.

“The figure…? Who?! Who was it who brought down the colonel?!” Yaguchi hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid alerting anyone in the adjoining rooms.

But the answer was not forthcoming; the voice was sticking to its own priorities. “They plan to assassinate all of the hard-liners, beginning with Colonel Sakai.”

Yaguchi was starting to suspect it of being a recorded message, but he was soon disabused of that notion. “That’s absurd. Military prisons are strictly isolated with heavy security. It would be like trying to breach the prime minister’s residence. It’s impossible to penetrate,” he objected, almost in spite of himself.

“It’s not impossible for the Yotsuba,” said the voice. “The prison’s walls, bars, and security systems will do nothing against Yotsuba magic. It will take more than that to prevent the assassination.”

Before Yaguchi could respond, the voice continued. “At one PM on December twenty-ninth, a Yotsuba VIP will arrive at Kobuchisawa Station with a minimal security detail. She will then transfer to a car, which will take her to a hot spring owned by the Yotsuba, where she plans to stay.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

“The VIP is a young woman. A girl.” It was impossible to tell whether the voice said this in answer to Yaguchi’s question or to prepare him for what came next. “The Yotsuba family cannot risk losing this girl. If she is taken captive, she can be traded for the release of Colonel Sakai.”

“That’s not…” …Possible—but Yaguchi didn’t finish. Despite being falsely accused, Sakai had been officially convicted by a military court, then imprisoned. Yaguchi didn’t think that the Yotsuba had the influence to overturn Sakai’s sentence. Or rather, he didn’t want to think that could be true.

“It is possible.”

Yaguchi couldn’t bring himself to refute this. He’d pushed the voice to say it was possible. He’d heard the words.

“But taking her as a hostage? How…?” He was already on board with the mysterious shadow’s plan. He was forced to admit that his willingness to dirty his hands with this illegal scheme showed just how much he wanted to help the colonel and the other hard-liners. “…I don’t have any way to do that!”

“There is a detention camp for enhanced psychics here.”

“What?! Don’t tell me you want to use them to…”

Enhanced psychics were developed during the Twenty Years’ Global War Outbreak as part of ongoing magical research in order to quickly wring improved abilities out of subjects. After the war, these psychics—the products of their nations’ darkest impulses—were locked away in various research facilities because of the danger their abilities posed. One such facility was not far from Matsumoto Base, where physically enhanced psychics who were classified as relatively low risk were kept.

“Enhanced psychics have a jealousy of the Ten Master Clans that borders on a grudge. With our operation striking at the Yotsuba, it will be simple to secure their cooperation.”

Yaguchi slumped and shook his head at the shadow’s certainty. “No, it’s not possible. My clearance isn’t even close to what I’d need to get into the research facility.”

“We will provide that solution. Of course, it won’t be a legitimate order.”

“…So you’re telling me to become a criminal?” Resentment colored Yaguchi’s voice—but the moment he hadn’t instantly rejected illegal methods, he’d chosen his path.

“Colonel Sakai’s conviction itself was obtained illegally. If you can secure the target, the success of our extralegal measures becomes possible.” In other words, not only would he rescue Colonel Sakai, but Yaguchi’s crimes themselves would be erased. “We will merely be untangling this perversion of law and restoring true justice. Even if it is a crime, it is not a sin.”

“…Okay. What should I do?”

Although it had no form—no eyes, nose, or mouth—Yaguchi could feel the shadowy form grin.

Around the same time that Lieutenant Yaguchi was making up his mind to break military law at Matsumoto Base, that same shadow appeared at the National Defense Force’s Uji Resupply Base Number Two, revealing itself to the leader of the Great Asian Alliance’s reconciliation faction, Captain Hatae.

After October, Hatae had been charged with deliberately allowing foreign magicians into the base, but after it was determined that he had been influenced by mental interference magic, his charges had been reduced. For the charge of commandeering a combat vehicle without orders from the base commander, his pay was docked for six months. It was an economically severe punishment, but some would say it was quite generous that he hadn’t been demoted, and Hatae himself would have agreed.

Of course, that didn’t change his stance. Despite the cessation of hostilities, the Great Asian Alliance was still regarded as an enemy, and Hatae had been warned by both his peers and his superiors that supporting any of its citizens too much would adversely affect his position in the military. And yet, he persisted.

He had no compunctions about being a martyr, but he could sense that his situation was worsening by the day. Even if he wasn’t in danger of being purged, the despair that came with the slow death of being put out to pasture weighed heavily upon him.

And then the shadow appeared.

“An illusory projection, huh?” Hatae was more conversant in magic than Lieutenant Yaguchi of Matsumoto Base, which let him immediately identify the nature of the apparition. But knowing what it was didn’t tell him anything about the magician casting it. By that measure, there was little difference between him and Yaguchi. “Whose magician are you? Which country?”

“I work for the Yotsuba, who recently attacked this base.”

The shadow didn’t answer his question, but Hatae didn’t mind—he hadn’t expected it to. If it had been interested in sharing details, it wouldn’t have appeared as a faceless shadow. “I figured that much,” he responded.

Hatae had an inkling that the Yotsuba had been involved. The infiltrators had clearly been using modern magic. It was hard to imagine modern magicians bold enough to attack a military base coming from anywhere but the Yotsuba clan. But he couldn’t dismiss what the shadow said next:

“Even now, the Yotsuba continue to hunt down anyone connected with the Great Asian Alliance.”

“They’re still going after my comrades?! Damn those dogs!”

“How odd. I’d have thought you’d be more concerned that you yourself are still a target.”

Hatae flinched but quickly recovered his composure. “I may have been manipulated, but I still attempted insurrection. I’m prepared for my fate.”

“No honorable end is coming for you. As a traitor, the only death awaiting you is one marred by shame.”

“Nrgh…!”

“You committed the sad, small treachery of becoming a tool in the hands of a foreign nation’s magicians, despite being an officer in the National Defense Force. Your family must be very ashamed indeed.”

“Then—!”

“Ending your own life now would change nothing. You would simply be seen as someone who took refuge in death, unable to bear the shame of your treachery. If you were going to die, you would have had to do so immediately after the incident. If you’d killed yourself then, you’d have been buried as a soldier who’d atoned for his sins via honorable death. But the window for that has long since closed.”

“So what should I do?!” Hatae’s face showed his desperation. The accusations of the shadow had destroyed all rational thought within him.

“You live on. Staying alive gives you the chance to redeem yourself.”

“But how?!”

The shadow grinned. But the expressionless, faceless grin did not seem directed at Hatae. “On the morning of December thirtieth, three days from today, the very same magician that attacked this base will make contact with the Yotsuba clan.”

“What?”

“The purpose of the contact is resupply and the transmission of new orders. The orders will be to resume the extermination of the Great Asian Alliance reconciliation faction.”

“What…are you asking me to do?” asked Hatae through gritted teeth. He was starting to guess at what the shadow’s intent might be. “Are you asking me to assassinate that magician?”

“This is merely the first step. If you want to stay alive, you will have to fight for it. If you don’t strike back, you will be killed.”

“So my only choice is to lower myself to assassination?!”

“I leave that decision entirely to you, Captain Hatae.”

Hatae could no longer speak past his clenched jaw.

“One might call you fortunate. You have many who could be called allies. Those ancient magician friends of yours—I’m sure they’ll be only too happy to help you.”

The shadow disappeared without waiting for Hatae to reply. Being a mere projection, it left behind no trace that it had ever existed in the first place.