Chapter 1
The notice that came from the Magic Association of Japan on January 2, 2097—right in the middle of the three-day New Year holiday—caused great consternation among the affected parties.
Its author was Maya Yotsuba, head of the Yotsuba family, one of the Ten Master Clans.
It announced the identity of the person who would succeed her as leader of the Yotsuba as well as her heir’s betrothal.
This signaled the beginning of the transfer of power to the next generation of Yotsuba leadership. Even to people who didn’t recognize the names of Miyuki Shiba, who had been named as Maya’s successor, or Tatsuya Shiba, who’d been betrothed to her, the notice carried with it the promise of a new era for Japanese magical society and was immediately received as major news.
But for those who did know Tatsuya and Miyuki Shiba, their shock was over nothing so vague as to what this news might presage for the future but rather something much more concrete and current: Not only were Tatsuya and Miyuki direct descendants (in a sense) of the Yotsuba line, but because their specific relation to the Yotsuba family had been concealed, it was hardly surprising that the revelation came as a true bolt from the blue to all the boys and girls who had variously felt friendship, rivalry, or something greater than that for either of the two.
One such person was Masaki Ichijou, the eldest son of the Ichijou family.
At four o’clock in the afternoon on January 2, Masaki returned from making his New Year’s social calls and found himself immediately summoned by his father and so went straight to the Japanese-style sitting room to speak with him.
It was rare for Masaki’s father, Gouki, to be home at this hour. Normally, he was either out visiting any number of the work sites for the family’s public-facing business, an undersea mining and exploration firm, or overseeing the training of the magicians who served the Ichijou family, and he typically didn’t arrive home until dinnertime. But during the three-day New Year’s holiday, as the head of one of the Ten Master Clans, he had to be ready to receive callers who would come to deliver their regards for the New Year. Whether he liked it or not was immaterial; it was the duty of the family head to be present in the home.
The Ichijou mansion’s private accommodations were built in the Western style, but the public section, meant for receiving guests, had been built in the fashion of traditional Japanese nobility, so reaching the sitting room from the front entrance involved traversing a long hall that wrapped around the building.
Once Masaki arrived at the sitting room where his father waited, rather than immediately opening the sliding shoji door and entering, he took a knee on the wooden floor of the hallway just outside the room.
“I’m here, Father.”
“Ah. Well, come on in, then,” came the response from the other side of the screen in a rough, world-weary tone.
Masaki, ever youthful and aristocratic, had not inherited his father’s demeanor—which was either crude or pleasantly rustic, depending on how one felt—but in either case, he spoke in a distinctively deep, mysterious, and resonant radio voice quality regardless of its volume.
“Excuse me, then,” said Masaki as, still kneeling, he slid the partition open, entered, and closed it behind him. Such formality might have seemed excessive between father and son, but the courteous bearing suited Masaki well.
On the other hand, while his father Gouki was wearing a traditional men’s kimono and hakama, his legs were splayed out roughly and his elbows stuck out well past the armrests at his sides. It was all very reminiscent of the feudal lord style that had been popular in the late Showa era, but Gouki’s unrefined aura made it somehow work.
Masaki sat opposite his father. There was not much family resemblance between the two; the sons and daughters of the Ichijou clan were said to favor their mothers, and here, the reputation was undeniably well-earned.
Gouki—forty-two years old this year—was, in a word, manly. His skin was deeply tanned all over, and his short-cropped hair had been bleached brown from long hours in the sun. He had all the dignity that came with his age, but in contrast, his physique bore no trace of decline. His body was well built, though it was the tone of that muscle that was striking, rather than the sheer amount. His facial features, too, were well composed, albeit stern and harsh, and betrayed not a speck of indulgence or mildness.
“You can relax,” said Gouki to his son, whose posture had remained faultless.
“In that case, don’t mind if I do.”
At Gouki’s suggestion, his son—who was dressed in his school uniform, which was the appropriate garb for a student making New Year’s social calls—stretched his legs out as he released the formal sitting position he’d been in. Gouki was not one for stuffy formality, but there was a line. He was perfectly capable of comporting himself in a manner appropriate to the office when he was acting as the head of the Ichijou family. Masaki understood his father’s suggestion to “relax” to mean that he was addressing Masaki not as the head of the Ichijou family but as his father.
“Masaki. When a boy gets to be your age, there are things he might have trouble talking to his father about, but I need you to answer me honestly.”
“What’s the matter?” It was unusual for the man to preface his statements like this. As one would expect from someone like him, he rarely minced words—particularly not to his own son. Masaki’s confusion was understandable.
However, that confusion was about to become profoundly uncomfortable.
“Just answer me honestly. Do you know a girl named Miyuki Shiba?”
“Wh-why would you ask me about that, Father?!”
Masaki’s flustered voice alone constituted an affirmative answer, but whether he wasn’t perceptive enough to realize that or simply wanted his son to say so explicitly, Gouki pressed the question: “Well, do you?”
Masaki still didn’t know why his father was asking, but he did know that this would simply continue until he gave a straight answer, so he nodded resolutely and replied, “…Yes, I do.”
“When and where did you come to know her?”
Masaki’s initial instinct was to loudly demand why his father was asking. The words got as far as his throat, but just before they were voiced, Masaki realized they would have no effect on their target and corrected course. His father was a blunt man, yes, but he wasn’t thoughtlessly rash. There had to be a reason for the question.
“Two years ago at the Nine School Competition. She caught my attention at the preopening party, and I made her acquaintance at the dance held after the closing ceremonies.”
“So at first, it was you who noticed her, then. And if she accepted your invitation to dance, it means she didn’t dislike you, at least.”
Masaki’s face began to burn; he’d provided the barest possible information, but his father had hit the bull’s-eye. And yet, these were still the mere opening jabs of the exchange, meant to probe him.
“So you like her, then, this Miss Miyuki?”
Masaki was completely taken aback by his father’s mercilessly direct approach. “Wh-what does that have to do with—?”
“I’m asking if you’ve fallen for the girl.”
“And I’m asking you why you would need to know something like that?!” Masaki cried, his tongue finally loosened by embarrassment and frustration.
“About half an hour ago, I received a message from the Yotsuba, via the Magic Association.” Gouki met his son’s outburst in a grave voice. It had not been his intention to cool the boy’s ardor nor poke fun at it.
This was immediately clear to Masaki. His father’s tone and the mention of the Yotsuba clan instantly cooled his head. “From the Yotsuba?” he wondered. “What do the Yotsuba want with us?”
“It wasn’t directed specifically at our family. It was addressed to the Ten Master Clans, the Eighteen Support Clans, and the Hundred Families. Something of a formality.”
“A formality? Don’t tell me those stuck-up Yotsubas are suddenly sending everyone well-wishes for the New Year.”
Father and son exchanged glances—Masaki to confirm that there was no deception in anything his father was saying and Gouki to see if his son was prepared to accept the truth, regardless of what it might bring.
“It announced that the Yotsuba have selected their next leader—a junior at First High School named Miyuki Shiba.”
“Miss Shiba will be…the next head of the Yotsuba…?”
Despite his resolve, Masaki found himself deeply shaken. Miyuki was related to the Yotsuba clan? Moreover, she was so closely related that she could be named its next head? This rocked him to his core.
Gouki’s piercing eyes held his son’s gaze. Masaki’s racing mind returned to the present in order to hear what his father had to say—but what came next was a still greater blow to the young man’s mind:
“Masaki, the Yotsuba have named Miyuki Shiba as their next head. They have also announced her betrothal to her cousin Tatsuya Shiba.”
“Miss Shiba is…betrothed…?” he murmured, stunned, before losing his composure entirely. “Cousins? No, Miss Shiba and Tatsuya Shiba are brother and sister!”
Gouki nodded faintly. “That was my understanding as well, and it’s true that thus far, they’ve been presented as siblings. But evidently, the truth is that they are cousins.”
Still in the throes of shock, Masaki eventually managed to reply, “Evidently?”
“It turns out that Tatsuya Shiba is Maya Yotsuba’s son, conceived from an artificially fertilized egg she had cryogenically frozen. They very thoughtfully attached updated family registry data,” spat Gouki dubiously. “I have to admit, it’s not an implausible story. There’s certainly no evidence that would prove any deception on the part of the Yotsuba.”
“Do…do you think they’re lying, Father?” There was something almost beseeching in Masaki’s voice.
“That is not our problem at the moment,” barked Gouki, shutting down his son. “Whether they are siblings or cousins, it is still an incestuous betrothal. Our magicians’ genetics are a crucial national asset. Any marriage that could damage that genetic legacy is unacceptable. The Ten Master Clans have a clear responsibility to the nation that must be upheld.”
Masaki’s posture had been deteriorating, but he straightened and composed himself.
“Nonetheless,” his father continued, “this is still the Yotsubas’ decision to make. The mere possibility of genetic harm isn’t enough for us to protest. So again, Masaki, I ask you, do you like Miyuki Shiba? Do you have feelings for her?”
Gouki fixed Masaki with a piercing gaze that would’ve made even a seasoned sailor flinch. But Masaki had nothing to fear from it. He had no reason to regret his feelings.
“Yes. I do have feelings for her. I fell for her the moment we met.”
“Very well.” Gouki nodded, satisfied. “In that case, as your father, I would see those feelings answered. There’s no need to worry. Akane can lead the Ichijou family. Go marry into the Yotsuba.”
“Father?” Masaki was confident that he had truly fallen for Miyuki. He knew his feelings were sincere.
“First, though, you’ll have to stop this engagement. Do I need to communicate your intent?”
But he felt very differently about the prospect of his feelings being communicated before he even had a chance to confess them to the girl in question. “Wait a minute, Father!”
“Do you think we have the luxury of time? They’ve already announced the engagement.”
Faced with his father’s withering gaze and ruthless logic, Masaki understood that he was outmatched and fell silent.
January 3. In response to the Yotsubas’ announcement the previous day to all the numbered families, the Ichijou clan lodged an official protest with the Magic Association of Japan.
This fact was received with intense interest not by the Yotsuba clan itself but rather by Kouichi Saegusa, the leader of the Saegusa family. A faint smile appeared on Kouichi’s lips as he scanned the e-paper displaying the protest that Gouki Ichijou had submitted to the Magic Association.
As bold as ever, I see…
Kouichi and Gouki had known each other since they were young men—which was not to say that they were close friends, although neither was there notable animosity between them. Kouichi and Gouki’s personalities were merely very different, so they tended to keep what could be most accurately described as a respectful distance from each other.
The gap in their ages was another reason why their relationship lacked much antagonism. By the academic calendar, Kouichi was six years ahead of Gouki. When they’d first met, Kouichi had been a college student, while Gouki was still in middle school. This was why Kouichi had for the most part regarded Gouki as something like a rascally kid brother, which in turn made it difficult to bear him any serious ill will. The protest Gouki had recently lodged was yet another there he goes again moment.
If he makes a single misstep, the whole Ichijou family will be caught in the cross fire, though.
The Ten Master Clans all regarded one another as equals, and none held sway over the internal matters of any other. However laudable the cause of safeguarding their genetic legacy might be, no clan had the right to intervene in the affairs of another so brazenly.
However, if one of their clan members was personally involved in such a private matter, that was a different story.
In this case, the head of the Ichijou family had not merely opposed the engagement of the successor to the Yotsuba family. In addition to protesting that cousins by mothers who themselves were identical twins were too genetically close to marry, he had also proposed the engagement of the eldest son of the Ichijou family, Masaki, to Miyuki Shiba.
Proposing an engagement to someone who was already betrothed would normally have been a quixotic endeavor. But in this particular case, protecting the valuable genetics of talented magicians was sufficient justification.
Kouichi didn’t know whether the Ichijous’ true aim was to block the engagement of the future Yotsuba head or simply to support the genuine love of their scion. Personally speaking, Kouichi couldn’t imagine making such a gamble for purely sentimental reasons, but he wouldn’t put it past Gouki.
Although in this case, it hardly matters.
Kouichi was already quite familiar with both Miyuki Shiba and the boy who’d been named as her intended, Tatsuya.
In addition to mastering high-level magic like Inferno and Niflheim while she was still a freshman at First High, Miyuki Shiba had deployed a completely unknown spell that was instantly lethal during the Yokohama Incident. Whether it was ranged or had an effective radius was still completely uncertain, but the Saegusa family’s researchers predicted that as anti-personnel magic, it would be roughly equivalent to Meteor Line.
And then there was Tatsuya Shiba, with his supremely powerful offensive ability, his still mysterious decomposition magic, and his frankly miraculous regeneration magic. Kouichi had received reports that Tatsuya was the strategic-class magician who’d been involved in the Scorching Halloween. And it was plain fact that he had a secret connection to the Defense Force’s 101st Brigade’s Independent Magic Battalion, who’d successfully deployed flight magic in combat for the first time in history.
Kouichi had known for some time that both of them were directly related to the Yotsuba line. He hadn’t known for certain that Tatsuya Shiba was Maya’s biological son, but given the lack of definitive proof that Miyuki Shiba was Miya’s daughter, he’d had an inkling. Once the two were joined with the Yotsuba around them, not even the united forces of the other Ten Master Clans plus the Eighteen Support Clans would be able to resist them. Kouichi didn’t know it, but Retsu Kudou had come to hold the same concern.
The Miyuki Shiba had been designated as the next Yotsuba family head and betrothed to that Tatsuya Shiba. Kouichi had been thoroughly rattled upon receiving the news. He had thought that the two were siblings (which, in fact, they were) and had also assumed that Tatsuya would eventually leave the Yotsuba nest. Kouichi hadn’t presumed Tatsuya would go so far as to cut all ties with his family, of course, but he’d hoped that with time he’d be able to convince the boy of how important it was to maintain the nation’s internal balance of power. Not that Kouichi had any intention of asking how he might actually do that convincing, of course.
Thus, Maya revealing the fact that Tatsuya and Miyuki were not siblings but cousins and announcing their sudden engagement was a profound miscalculation on Kouichi’s part. The authenticity of her claim that they weren’t siblings was beside the point. Nobody was in a position to compel the two to undergo the kind of thorough physical examination that would verify the truth of the matter, so the public statement carried the weight of truth. If the engagement became a marriage, Tatsuya and Miyuki would become the unshakable center of consolidated Yotsuba power, making Kouichi’s worst fears a reality.
It already seemed impossible to stop. The news, sent via the Magic Association to all the Numbered families, amounted to a formal engagement announcement. Any opportunity for outside interference was already gone. The fact gnawed at Kouichi. But—
I suppose this is one approach.
Gouki’s response wasn’t reckless, but it was confrontational. Kouichi didn’t know how far ahead he’d thought it through, but given Gouki’s temperament, it seemed likelier that he hadn’t given it much consideration.
But there was no mistaking that it was an effective choice.
That was true even now, as Kouichi summoned his daughters to the sitting room.
In contrast to Kouichi in his suit and tie, when his daughters arrived in the sitting room, they were all wearing gorgeous furisode formal kimonos. This was not because they wanted to—the three girls had been deliberately dressed this way. Nor was it per their parents’ desires. No, such considerations were irrelevant—it was all for the benefit of the guests they were entertaining. In the Saegusa family, it was the eldest son’s duty to go out and make the New Year’s social calls, whereas the three daughters were entrusted with receiving any callers who arrived. Additionally, Mayumi, Izumi, and Kasumi’s mother was staying elsewhere under the pretext of receiving medical care.
“Father, what is it you wanted to see us about?”
The three sisters had scarcely sat down when Mayumi posed the question. She preferred Western-style dresses, and while every year she did manage to pretend pleasant amiability while wearing the stiff kimono, her patience was running thin.
“Yesterday we received two announcements sent from the Yotsuba clan, via the Magic Association, addressed to the Ten Master Clans, the Eighteen Support Clans, and the Hundred Families.”
It was Izumi who responded to the bait, and unlike her sister, she seemed untroubled by her garments. She asked precisely the question their father had meant to elicit: “Not just the Twenty-Eight families but the Hundred as well? What could possibly be so important?”
Rather than being sincerely interested, Izumi was clearly just obliging her father, but nevertheless, the man nodded, satisfied. He had always been a bit soft on Izumi, who was his youngest daughter (albeit of twins) and who always seemed to charm the adults around her.
“I’ll tell you—and it is important. Both for the Yotsuba family and for you all.”
“For us, too?” Mayumi wondered.
Kouichi spoke plainly. “The Yotsuba have selected Miyuki Shiba, a junior at First High, as their next family head.”
“What?!” Mayumi balked. Izumi’s eyes went wide as she clasped her hands over her mouth. Even the relatively more composed Kasumi made a skeptical expression.
Even Mayumi, who’d known the siblings the longest, had assumed from their surnames that they were members of an extra, non-number family at best, descended from one of the clans associated with the number four. It hadn’t crossed any of the three sisters’ minds until just this moment that Miyuki might be a member of the Yotsuba clan.
“Furthermore, they announced that Miyuki Shiba was engaged to another junior at First High, Tatsuya Shiba.”
“No!”
“That’s not possible!”
“Surely not even the Yotsuba can have sibling marriages.”
Izumi was rendered incoherent, Mayumi cried out in protest, and Kasumi replied with a logical point of order.
“Evidently, they are actually cousins.”
“Cousins?” Kasumi prompted. Her composure was not because she was appreciably more coolheaded and calculating than her sisters, but rather because she had little emotional involvement with Tatsuya or Miyuki.
Kouichi was able to grasp this thanks to his good understanding of his daughters’ dispositions. He knew that Izumi held Miyuki in particularly high regard—so what piqued his interest now was the reason for Mayumi’s intense dismay.
“Miyuki Shiba’s mother’s maiden name was Miya Yotsuba. Tatsuya Shiba is evidently the biological son of Maya Yotsuba, the current head of the family, conceived from her cryogenically frozen egg.”
“Tatsuya is the son…of the family head?” murmured the eldest sister, stunned.
Kasumi gave her a sympathetic look. Her older twin’s petrification didn’t seem to be weakening anytime soon, so she decided to leave her be. Meanwhile, as he continued, Kouichi’s voice took on a sharper edge, and Kasumi gave him her full attention.
“In reaction to this, Gouki Ichijou, the head of the Ichijou clan, sent a protest via the Magic Association, demanding that Miyuki and Tatsuya’s engagement be dissolved.”
“The Ichijou clan?” asked Mayumi, confused.
“Correct. But since they’d have no right to protest if a personal distaste was all they had, Gouki also proposed to Maya Yotsuba that his oldest son, Masaki, should be engaged to Miyuki.”
“I see…”
Mayumi had recovered from her dismay and was now considering the possible implications and motives behind the potential engagement of the Ichijou scion to the next Yotsuba family head.
“Do you have any insight, Mayumi?” The girl’s shock had faded, which her father appreciated. She was always quick to adapt.
“No, nothing really significant. Only that I remember Masaki Ichijou having a rather strong affinity for Miyuki.”
“Tell me more. When did you notice it?”
“At the after-party for the Nine School Competition before last. I doubt I was the only one who noticed.”
Mayumi’s information was surprisingly useful. Apparently, the Ichijou head’s motivation was primarily to support the romantic aspirations of his son. “I see. So Ichijou’s actions weren’t political but rather out of consideration for his son’s feelings.”
Kouichi knew he could never think the way Gouki did. He’d never compromise the Saegusa family’s position just to help his daughters in love—but at the same time, he could see why Gouki’s principles would be better received by his daughters than his own would be.
“Incidentally, girls, what kind of boy would you say this Tatsuya Shiba is? What’s your opinion, Mayumi?”
His question brought a degree of turmoil back to Mayumi’s eyes. “I mean…he’s a very talented underclassman.”
Despite this noncommittal answer, Kouichi hardly failed to notice the faint flush that colored his daughter’s cheeks. “What about you, Kasumi?”
“I haven’t had many chances to interact with him personally, so all I can tell you is that he’s very knowledgeable and extremely skilled with magic engineering,” she replied, her expression remaining composed as she glanced at her twin sister who had not yet spoken on the subject. “Izumi works with him on the student council, so she would know more than I do.”
“I see.” Kouichi turned to Izumi. “What do you make of him, then?”
Izumi, caught with a vacant expression on her face, came to her senses at the sound of her name. She made no pretense of trying to give a calm answer; instead, her expression tightened. “…He is…a person who’s impossible to evaluate for someone like me.”
“Huh.”
It wasn’t only Kouichi whose face betrayed surprise. Kasumi gazed openly at his daughter in interest, while Mayumi turned her whole body toward Izumi, her eyes wide.
Unperturbed, Izumi straightened herself, and, looking her father square in the eyes, continued. “Father, I believe you’re aware of the stellar furnace experiment that was held at First High last March, right?”
“Yes—now that you mention it, Tatsuya Shiba played a key part in that, didn’t he?” The incident had upset Kouichi’s scheme to damage the Yotsubas’ public reputation. How could he forget?
“After that, Tatsuya performed brilliantly as one of the technology staffers at the Nine School Competition. I’ve also heard that he was the one who introduced the use of flight magic into the Mirage Bat event, even though flight magic had only just been unveiled at the previous year’s competition.”
Kouichi also knew this, but he turned to Mayumi for confirmation.
“It’s true. He achieved flight magic using competition-specified CAD. He’s also developed new magic programs that have been recognized and recorded in the National Magic University’s encyclopedia.”
“This year he’s been asked by competitors to help develop improved versions of high-level magic like Invisible Bullet and Phonon Maser,” Izumi added, following Mayumi’s confirmation.
“That’s very impressive.” Kouichi already knew everything his daughters were telling him, but he affected an easy surprise, as if this were all new to him.
But Izumi had more to say: “The reason I feel that he’s impossible to estimate is that it never seems like he considers his achievements to be particularly impressive. Tatsuya…sees things on a fundamentally different level compared to the rest of us. Even when he’s standing in the same place, he’s living in a different world. That’s how it seems to me sometimes.”
“Do you mean that he has special vision ability, like Mayumi?”
“…I don’t know. This is all just based on my intuition and not much else. I’m…sorry, Father.” Izumi looked down sadly, unable to better articulate what she was feeling.
Kouichi looked to Mayumi, who shook her head, indicating that she had no insight to offer, either.
Izumi’s impression of Tatsuya had sparked Kouichi’s interest, but there wasn’t enough information to draw any conclusions, so he set aside his curiosity for the moment. “Well, what do you think of him romantically, then?”
Startled, Izumi looked up and shook her head rapidly, her eyes wide in surprise. “He’s totally out of my league! …Unfortunately. Very unfortunately.”
Izumi’s suddenly resentful muttering was so out of character for her that Kouichi was more disturbed than he was worried. “Izumi, what happened?”
“If only I were desirable enough to catch Tatsuya’s eye…! Then I wouldn’t have to stand by and watch as Miyuki is—”
“Izumi, do you have any idea what you’re saying? Honestly, you’re freaking me out a little here!” interjected Kasumi, who was shocked enough by Izumi’s odd behavior to let her formality slip in front of her father.
Kouichi cleared his throat awkwardly.
Kasumi and Izumi flinched and together corrected their posture and looked down shamefacedly.
Kouichi didn’t scold either of them further—he was hesitant to give them any more stimulation of any kind—and instead turned to Mayumi. “Mayumi, what about you? What do you make of Tatsuya Shiba as a romantic partner?”
“What do I make of him? I mean…” Mayumi cast her gaze around uncertainly, despite having suspected a question like this would be coming. She didn’t seem to hate the prospect, at least.
“Tatsuya is two years younger than you, but that’s not such a terrible age gap. And as the son of the current head of the Yotsuba, his social standing’s certainly adequate,” said Kouichi.
“It’s very hard for me to think of him as younger than me, yes, but…”
If anything, he was more suitable than any of the prospects Kouichi had considered for Mayumi thus far. This might actually work. If he coordinated with Gouki, they might actually be able to foil Maya’s scheme.
“Well, Mayumi, if that’s how you feel, then we should formally contact the Yotsuba clan and—” Kouichi began, only to be interrupted by Kasumi.
“I’m opposed!”
“Kasumi, restrain yourself,” he scolded his impertinent daughter immediately, not just because she’d interrupted him but because she was old enough to know better.
“…I apologize, Father,” Kasumi said, shamed. She still seemed displeased but did not argue the point.
“Father, while I agree that there’s nothing wrong with Mayumi pursuing Tatsuya in principle, I am also opposed to this.”
Having just taken a firm hand with Kasumi, Kouichi appeared willing to listen to what Izumi had to say. She’d been more polite, which was part of it, but Kouichi was also—as ever—prone to dote on her. “And why is that, Izumi?”
“It would be scandalous for a woman to approach a man whose engagement has already been announced. The Ichijou clan’s plan only works because Masaki is a man. Tatsuya’s also a man, so it’s easy for him to laugh off an attempt to interfere—but in the opposite case, Miyuki would certainly take offense.”
“…Is that how it works?” Once it had been pointed out, even Kouichi couldn’t dismiss the emotions of the women involved.
“Yes, it is!” answered Mayumi, taking advantage of the moment. “Proposing a relationship with a man who’s just announced his engagement would ruin my reputation! And worse, I’m older than him—people would say I’m a scheming villainess trying to seduce a younger man. No thank you.”
“Ah, I see.”
Right there on the spot, Kouichi abandoned any attempt to interfere with the engagement that the Yotsuba family had announced. He cautioned his daughters to remember henceforth that whenever they interacted with Tatsuya or Miyuki to bear in mind that they were direct blood relatives of the Yotsuba line and then dismissed the girls.
By eight o’clock in the evening, the last of the New Year’s guests had left the Saegusa home. There were no banquet plans until the next day, so after eating dinner with his daughters—who’d changed out of their formal kimonos—Kouichi retired to his study.
It was not terribly different from the way he spent his time on any other day. He didn’t often take meals with his daughters, but after dinner he always spent time in his study. As he skimmed the correspondence pertaining to his work as the head of one of the Ten Master Clans, his work managing his public-facing business, and the work that had to be kept secret, his mobile phone rang.
“Mr. Saegusa, many happy returns on the New Year.”
The caller was Gouki Ichijou.
“Mr. Ichijou, Happy New Year to you. It’s very kind of you to call.”
“No, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“I haven’t been waiting too terribly long.”
About two hours earlier, Kouichi had sent Gouki a text asking him to call when he had a chance. Whether Kouichi’s reassurance that he hadn’t been kept waiting long was the truth or mere social nicety was unclear.
“So I assume you want to talk about what’s going on with the Yotsuba?”
There was seven years between the men, with Kouichi being the older of the two. Despite that, Gouki had started the conversation speaking in an informal register. It was something of an unwritten rule that formality was not necessary among heads of the Ten Master Clans, though, so Kouichi would’ve found more formality to be inappropriate.
Just because they were polite didn’t mean nobody among the Ten Master Clans would ever nitpick trivialities, however.
“That’s right. More precisely, I want to talk about the proposal you made to the Yotsuba regarding your son,” Kouichi began, a faint smile on his face.
On the screen, Gouki’s responded with a scowl.
“Don’t leap to any conclusions, please,” Kouichi rushed to assure, having anticipated Gouki’s reaction. “My only intention is to support your son in his romantic pursuit.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, thank you,” Gouki offered, expression still wary.
“I find the engagement that Ms. Yotsuba announced to be utterly appalling.”
Gouki’s expression shifted from suspicion to acceptance. This he could easily understand. “So I take it that you also think the engagement the Yotsuba clan has announced is a dangerous one?”
“I do. I’ve often heard from my daughters about how exceptional Miyuki Shiba is.”
This was a lie. Kouichi did not speak to his daughters frequently enough to “often” hear anything. What information he had about Miyuki and Tatsuya Shiba he had collected mostly independently.
But if Kouichi admitted to that, it would raise the question of why he’d investigated them before their Yotsuba heritage had been made public. Gouki wouldn’t understand the answer anyway, so it was much more convenient to simply say he’d heard about Miyuki from his daughters.
“We can’t turn a blind eye to the possibility of such profound talent being diminished by not being passed on to her children.”
Kouichi’s statement was meant to flatter Gouki’s position, but Gouki’s face surprisingly darkened in a scowl, his lip curling. “This isn’t only about Miyuki. Tatsuya is the magician who beat my son. Call me a doting father if you will, but beating Masaki makes Tatsuya quite a prize himself.”
“It does. You’re absolutely right,” Kouichi said, immediately admitting his mistake. Whether Gouki was too proud of his son or not, there was unmistakable value in having beaten Masaki Ichijou in magical feats. In fact, when the Third High team captained by Masaki lost to the First High team led by Tatsuya, it had been such an upset that the Magic Association had convened a special online meeting of the Master Clans Council using their dedicated telecommunications line. “Tatsuya Shiba’s talent must also be properly valued.”
Kouichi’s immediate agreement with Gouki’s point wasn’t just talk.
“So what do you plan to do about it, Mr. Saegusa? Are you saying you’ll petition Ms. Yotsuba to dissolve the engagement and support my son?”
Gouki used the word support, but he couldn’t hide the suspicion on his face—it was obvious that he suspected Kouichi of intending to use his son for his own gains.
Kouichi decided to play the card he’d been hiding: “In fact, I had been thinking of having Mayumi marry Tatsuya and taking him as my son-in-law.”
Just as he’d hoped, Gouki was immediately agitated, unable to hide his surprise.
“…Wasn’t Mayumi seeing a boy from the Itsuwa family?”
Seeing that, Kouichi pressed forward. “Yes, well, it seems neither my daughter nor Hirofumi Itsuwa are terribly interested. I’m not really seeing much willingness to pursue the relationship from either of them, so I’ve been thinking it’s back to the drawing board.”
“And your Mayumi—she’s interested in Tatsuya?”
“Tatsuya was an underclassman of hers, but she doesn’t seem opposed to the idea—that’s for certain. She’ll turn twenty this year, and as her father, I’d certainly like to see her married soon.”
Gouki had intuitively grasped that Kouichi was attempting to use the Ichijou family, but his understanding wasn’t deep enough to prove it. There wasn’t anything amiss in what Kouichi was saying, and Gouki needed all the allies he could get.
“I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m still trying to convince her, though. We haven’t gotten to the point where I can send a formal proposal to the Yotsuba clan. In lieu of that, I’d like to add my name in support of your objection.”
Gouki felt as though the jaws of a clever trap were closing on him, but he had no choice but to accept the offer. “Our family would certainly be grateful for your support.”
“And I’m grateful to have the opportunity to give it. I’m considering contacting others who might be harmed by Ms. Yotsuba’s decision—what do you think?”
“If there are any, by all means, please introduce them to me.” Gouki was trying mightily to protect his own agency instead of giving Kouichi carte blanche to act as he pleased.
“Yes, of course,” said Kouichi with a smile.
The expression as it was displayed on Gouki’s screen was as unreadable as ever, and Gouki gave up trying to discern the truth. “In that case, I’ll send you the original letter I submitted to the Magic Association later.”
“I’ll return a cosigned version to you for your confirmation.”
“Understood.”
“All right. Thank you, Mr. Ichijou.”
“Not at all. Thank you. Good-bye.”
Thus, the telephone conversation with Gouki concluded very much to Kouichi’s satisfaction.
On Friday, January 4, Tatsuya and Miyuki were escorted to their residence by Minami.
Only the top echelon of the magic world had been informed of Tatsuya and Miyuki’s connection to the Yotsuba, but it would not take long for the information to spread much more widely. Their residence was still a secret for now, but that, too, would only last so long. They’d been informed that Hayama was preparing the Yotsubas’ Tokyo residence for them, and they would probably have to consider moving there in the near future.
But even if they did, Tatsuya estimated they had a month or two before it happened. There were other things to take care of first.
In the previous century, in order to properly receive and entertain guests during the New Year, households had to do a deep, thorough cleaning. Modern homes, though, had largely automated domestic chores, and the cleaning was mechanically managed. After having lunch at home, Tatsuya and Miyuki left Minami there and headed for Yakumo’s temple, Kyuuchouji.
Tatsuya again wore a suit and tie, but Miyuki donned a colorful formal kimono with distinctly long sleeves. Taking Tatsuya’s motorcycle wasn’t a good option, and roller skates were out of the question. Fortunately, both Tatsuya’s residence and Kyuuchouji were within the range of the public traffic control system, so they used the residence’s self-driving car.
It took about fifteen minutes to arrive at Kyuuchouji. Just before departing, they’d called ahead to confirm their plans, so there was no need to worry whether anyone would be home when they arrived.
However, upon arriving, Tatsuya and Miyuki were still forced to wait for some time. Yakumo was there, yes, but he was seeing other guests. Those guests had arrived just before Tatsuya and Miyuki, and without making arrangements ahead of time, but they were apparently the sort of guests who couldn’t be turned away—or so one of Yakumo’s familiar top disciples explained deeply apologetically.
Tatsuya considered leaving and coming again later, but the disciple eventually convinced him to stay and wait. There weren’t any other pressing plans for the day, and Tatsuya didn’t really feel like working, so he ultimately decided he didn’t mind too much.
It was about half an hour before Tatsuya and Miyuki were summoned into the temple.
As they made for the main hall from the temple residence, they emerged into the garden, whereupon Tatsuya saw the receding form of the previous guest.
It was an old man, his head shaved like a monk’s. At first, Tatsuya made him out to be a functionary from the temple’s Buddhist sect but quickly realized otherwise. His head was bald, yes, but he was wearing a tailored suit and coat. Sure, some Buddhist clergy wore suits, but Tatsuya got the feeling this wasn’t one of them. At the very least, he gave off the strong impression of someone whose power was quite secular.
Sensing Tatsuya’s gaze, the old man looked back over his left shoulder.
His left eye was clouded white.
The gesture made Tatsuya deeply uneasy. If there was really a problem with his left eye, then he ought to have looked over his right shoulder, which meant…
That clouded left eye of his saw with something other than mere normal vision.
The old man soon turned away and continued out of the temple gate.
“Tatsuya?”
At the sound of Miyuki’s voice, Tatsuya returned to himself with a sharp intake of breath—the old man had thoroughly distracted him.
Unsure of what it was that he was so afraid of, Tatsuya collected himself.
As he knelt in front of Yakumo, Tatsuya didn’t ask the identity of the old man he’d spotted in the garden. “My apologies for the late greeting, master. Happy New Year.”
Tatsuya didn’t feel it was appropriate to demand information about other people’s guests. And although he didn’t know why, he had the feeling that even if he did ask, his question wouldn’t be answered.
Alongside Tatsuya, Miyuki bowed politely.
“Happy New Year. I understand your situation, so you needn’t worry,” said Yakumo.
Hearing this, the siblings looked up.
“Oh, so you know? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Miyuki said with an admiring look in her eyes.
Yakumo laughed and shook his head. “No, no. It’s nothing to be impressed by. The news about your new title and engagement has traveled quite widely, you see.”
“…It’s already gone so far?” Tatsuya asked bitterly.
Yakumo widened his eyes in surprise at the question. “Why, of course it has. This is major news in the magic world. A peek inside the inner workings of the mysterious Yotsuba clan! No wonder it’s got people’s attention. And with the Master Clans Council coming up so soon, too. And this year’s assembly is the one that will determine the makeup of the Ten Master Clans for the next four years—big news arriving right before that is bound to travel quickly.”
Tatsuya frowned, and Miyuki’s expression clouded over. Though the announcement had been limited to the Twenty-Eight Families and the Hundred, they’d known that once it passed through the Magic Association it would spread widely. It had been, after all, a measure to make third parties acknowledge Tatsuya and Miyuki’s existence. Putting their names on the lips of everyone in the world of magic had been the Yotsuba clan’s plan all along.
But that was merely what Maya wanted, not anything Tatsuya or Miyuki wished for. Setting aside what the rest of the world might think, they were both depressed at the thought of the reception that might be waiting for them when they returned to school.
“Still…to think that you’re not siblings but cousins and engaged to boot.” Yakumo grinned. “I must admit I never saw this coming. Congratulations.”
Miyuki blushed and looked aside at Yakumo’s well-wishes. But what he said next made her stiffen.
“So—how much of it is true?” asked Yakumo with a meaningful grin.
Tatsuya’s eyes were half-lidded and his expression blank. “We’ve been told that it is true,” he said without much conviction.
“Ah, you’ve been told, eh?”
“With no memory of the events in question, I have little choice but to trust what other people tell us.”
Yakumo smiled even as he fixed Tatsuya with a cold gaze. “Ah yes, I see—I see. Not even the great Tatsuya remembers the moments after his own birth, I suppose. And of course, no one can be expected to have direct knowledge of events that occurred before their birth. That stands to reason.”
All Tatsuya could do was look downward, his agreement implicit.
After twenty or so minutes more of lively and (only) idle chatter, Tatsuya and Miyuki stood.
Yakumo likewise stood and followed them as they left. Both Tatsuya and Miyuki knew that no matter how much they might try to ask that he not go to the trouble, Yakumo would find their insistence meaningless. Sandwiched between the disciple tasked with escorting them out on one side and Yakumo on the other, they passed through the gate leading to the temple’s parking area.
Tatsuya and Miyuki turned to give their regards to Yakumo one last time, but he beat them to the punch.
“Now then, Tatsuya—tomorrow’s training is going to be rough, so be ready for it.”
Tatsuya’s eyes widened. Yakumo’s words implied that he needn’t worry about any of this and that his training could advance normally. The man was making it clear that their relationship would continue the same as always, regardless of Tatsuya’s now-public status as a member of the Yotsuba family.
Tatsuya, of course, did not betray his surprise. “I look forward to another year of training with you, master.”
“And master—thank you so much,” Miyuki added, her eyes just slightly misty.
The day after paying their respects at Kyuuchouji, Tatsuya left Miyuki at home and paid a visit to the National Defense Force 101st Brigade’s base.
His destination was the headquarters of the Independent Magic Battalion—not for training, but to visit Kazama and the rest of the unit.
Tatsuya wore civilian clothes (a suit), but his ID card gave him the same privileges as any officer. He breezed through the gate after passing the card reader and bio-scanner, proceeding on foot to the building that served as the battalion’s HQ. He had planned to see Kazama immediately, but in the lobby of the hardened building with its three aboveground and three underground floors, he caught sight of another familiar face.
“Happy New Year, Specialist Ooguro.”
“And to you, First Lieutenant Fujibayashi. And congratulations.”
Tatsuya and Fujibayashi exchanged their New Year’s salutations, with Tatsuya adding his congratulations.
“Thank you, Specialist. I certainly am happy with the salary bump,” Fujibayashi quipped.
Tatsuya had the feeling that there was a more complex sentiment hidden beneath her joking answer, but this wasn’t the place to ask about it. “I’d like to give my regards to the lieutenant colonel as well,” he said.
“Of course. The commander’s waiting for us. Come on, then,” Fujibayashi said with a pleasant smile, turning on her heel.
Tatsuya followed dutifully behind.
It seemed there was only one person in the commander’s office, so Fujibayashi knocked at the door. “It’s Fujibayashi, sir.”
Kazama answered with permission to enter: “Come in.”
“Sir. I’ve brought Specialist Ooguro with me.”
“Both of you, have a seat and wait a moment, would you?” the lieutenant colonel said as he activated something at the console on his desk. A section of the wall opposite the office’s entrance tilted down until it was horizontal, becoming a seating surface.
Tatsuya and Fujibayashi sat on the impromptu bench. It was cushioned and not at all uncomfortable.
The computer display on Kazama’s desk was tilted back about fifteen degrees; he glanced at it and signed several documents in rapid succession with a stylus before looking at his visitors.
Fujibayashi and Tatsuya got to their feet and approached the desk as Kazama stowed the display within it.
Tatsuya moved a half step ahead of Fujibayashi and saluted. “My regards for the New Year, Commander. And congratulations on your promotion.”
Kazama’s expression softened, and he stood. “Mm-hmm. Thank you.”
The floor behind Fujibayashi and Tatsuya opened up, revealing two sofas that emerged from the gap and inflated.
“For starters, why don’t you have a seat?” suggested Kazama as he himself settled down on the simple air-cushioned couch.
Tatsuya sat opposite him on the couch nearest the office’s door.
Above them, a ceiling panel lowered to become a suspended table between the couches, on which a tea set including a hot water pitcher, a teapot, and teacups waited.
Still standing, Fujibayashi took the pitcher and poured hot water into the teapot, then after a moment served the freshly brewed tea into the two waiting teacups and set them in front of Tatsuya and Kazama. She smiled at Tatsuya’s thanks, then moved to stand beside Kazama.
“Now then, I don’t think you have any pressing matters for us, but did you really come all this way just to say Happy New Year?” Kazama asked as he reached for his teacup. Although its contents weren’t scalding, the pale celadon teacup ought to have been fairly hot to the touch nonetheless, but Kazama betrayed no such sensation.
Tatsuya answered Kazama’s candid question with a smile. “I could hardly ignore news of your promotion, Commander.” It was a polite smile, but that didn’t mean the sentiment behind it was insincere. He’d simply chosen it over a more serious expression.
“My promotion, huh?” Kazama met Tatsuya’s smile with his own—but it was a rueful one. “My pay hardly went up, and I’m one of the last of my cohort to get the nod. But if my rank going up makes it easier for my subordinates to stay out of sticky situations, I’m glad for that, at least.”
Just as Kazama alluded, his hadn’t been the only promotion that was announced that January 1. As Tatsuya had implied earlier, Fujibayashi had gone from second lieutenant to first lieutenant, while Sanada and Yanagi had been similarly promoted from captain to major.
An operation Kazama had been involved in early in his career had incurred the disfavor of the central government, and it had adversely affected his advancement, despite his performance, ability, and reputation. Once he became the commanding officer of the Independent Magic Battalion, the efforts of Major General Saeki—the 101st Brigade’s commander—helped him reach colonel, but the bureaucrats at the top of the military had no intentions of letting him advance any further.
But his actions in the Yokohama Incident could not be ignored. With the pretense that the Independent Magic Battalion was a secret unit and therefore immediately awarding them with higher rank would expose them, the promotions had been postponed from the previous January to July, but the voices demanding that meritorious service be properly recognized could no longer be suppressed, so a few days earlier, the announcement of his rise to lieutenant colonel went out.
And along with that came the delayed promotions of Sanada, Yanagi, and Fujibayashi.
“It’s not a bad thing to be promoted. Even a small salary increase is never unwelcome,” Tatsuya replied.
“Well, that’s true. Although my feelings about your income are a bit more complicated.”
“It’s not as though my income is an order of different magnitude. The market for CADs and other products in the magic engineering field is rather small, after all.”
Tatsuya and Kazama shared a chuckle and a grimace.
“Colonel,” Tatsuya went on, “how capable is your counterespionage?”
“More than adequate.” Kazama nodded.
Tatsuya took a short breath. “Have there been any recent changes to the composition of the battalion?”
“Not at this time. My battalion is classified as a special unit, so the brigade commander doesn’t consider it a problem if ranks and roles don’t exactly match up perfectly.”
“Understood.”
Tatsuya had been attached to the Independent Magic Battalion as a special officer, but his position was highly contingent on his personal connections to Kazama and Sanada. If there was a change in upper management, Tatsuya would need to change how he approached his role.
He very sincerely felt the need to weigh any possible impact—positive or negative—to the Yotsuba family. If he were placed under the command of someone he couldn’t personally trust, he would have to consider cutting ties with the military. For the moment, at least, that didn’t seem too likely.
Next, it was Kazama who put a question to Tatsuya, in a rather stiff tone. “Can we continue to count on your support, Tatsuya?”
“Yes, sir,” Tatsuya answered.
“You haven’t been given new responsibilities by the Yotsuba clan?”
“Nothing that will conflict with the interests of the Independent Magic Battalion, no.” Tatsuya had very deliberately said the battalion rather than the military. “At least, not at present.”
“I see.” The meaning of that final qualifier was not lost on Kazama. He paused for a moment before continuing. “In recent months, the global situation has been destabilizing, domestic affairs included. Wars haven’t started breaking out again yet, but it’s our belief that the likelihood of a medium-intensity conflict sparking in the East Asian region has become quite high. And we expect one soon—specifically, within the next year.”
“By we, do you mean the army staff or the joint staff?”
Immediately following the Twenty Years’ War, Japan’s defense forces had been drastically reconceived. The Joint General Staff was folded into the Ministry of Defense, unifying National Ground Defense Force Command, National Maritime Defense Force Command, and National Air Defense Force Command. A General Staff Council was established as a temporary agency attached directly to the Joint General Staff, with the chairman of the Joint Staff acting as its head. And in times of emergency, the General Staff Council could be convened to act as the defense force’s highest decision-making body.
As an example, during the Yokohama Incident, within two hours after the outbreak of hostilities, the General Staff Council convened and authorized the deployment of Material Burst.
Under the current regime, the general headquarters of the army, navy, and air forces each had a staff section responsible for intelligence processing and operational planning, but separate from those, the Joint Staff also had a cross-organizational department that provided intelligence analysis and perspective. Tatsuya’s question was about which level the prediction Kazama had just relayed had come from.
“Ah, this is General Saeki’s analysis.”
Kazama’s answer was not what Tatsuya had expected. Apparently, this analysis was internal to the 101st and wasn’t public. This made him adjust his own estimation of the likelihood of imminent military conflict much higher.
The conclusion came from a distinguished veteran officer, without being filtered to avoid upsetting some politician. It was, in a word, raw analysis, devoid of the usual bias that came from worrying about political ramifications or public opinion. Tatsuya didn’t hope the prediction was true, of course, but he wasn’t the sort of person who could embrace baseless optimism.
“While the Ten Master Clans are an organization dedicated to protecting the rights of magicians, they won’t shirk their duty to national defense. On that count, the Yotsuba family interests and the military’s are aligned.”
“Given that I won’t involve you in anything unrelated to national defense, I don’t expect you’ll be put under any undue obligations. I look forward to another productive year with you, Tatsuya.” Echoing his earlier sentiment, Kazama brought their conversation to an end.
Once his meeting with Kazama was over, Tatsuya had planned to pay his respects to Sanada, Yanagi, and Yamanaka. However, Yamanaka wasn’t on base, and Sanada and Yanagi were apparently indisposed. As Tatsuya hesitated over whether to find somewhere to wait for a while or return home, Fujibayashi invited him to the officers’ café.
It was 10:50 AM—a bit early for lunch but the perfect time for a coffee break. Being so soon after New Year’s, the brigade hadn’t continued its training in earnest, so the café was quite lively.
Holiday notwithstanding, the brigade was on duty, so every officer was in uniform. Fujibayashi, too, wore her rear echelon female officer’s uniform. Tatsuya’s three-piece suit stood out in marked contrast. If he’d put on the trench coat he carried in one hand, he might have felt less awkward, but at the moment, he felt strangely conspicuous.
Fujibayashi regarded his self-consciousness with amusement in her eyes. “So even you get bashful sometimes, eh, Tatsuya?”
Tatsuya didn’t bother with any bluster, but he did return Fujibayashi’s gaze somewhat sullenly. “I prefer not to stick out.”
She nearly laughed out loud at the retort. “Ah, so this is a real disaster for you, isn’t it?”
“What else could I do? I could hardly refuse.”
Fujibayashi peered at him like she was trying to read his mind. “Does that go for your engagement, too?”
“Naturally.”
“You’re unhappy?”
“Like I said, I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Just because I’m ordered to marry someone I’ve thought of as a sister my whole life doesn’t mean my feelings can instantly change. I understand the need for Miyuki to be engaged, so I didn’t refuse, but…”
This was a front. Tatsuya had accepted the role not because it was necessary but because he couldn’t bear to push Miyuki away.
That was something anyone who knew the two well enough could have guessed, so it wasn’t hard for Fujibayashi to see the truth, but she didn’t say anything to tease him. “‘The need to be engaged,’ huh?”
Tatsuya looked at Fujibayashi curiously but didn’t put his question into words. Given her age, he could easily imagine how much her relatives were probably pressuring her to get married.
But Fujibayashi plunged right into the topic Tatsuya was trying to delicately avoid. “It’s gotten really obnoxious lately. ‘Just get married already!’ I mean, I know I’m not getting any younger, but c’mon…”
Given the modern tendency for magicians to marry young, it wasn’t hard to guess that Fujibayashi’s family was embarrassed that she wasn’t there yet—which was all the more reason for Tatsuya to say nothing.
Knowing the reason why she hadn’t married, Tatsuya couldn’t let himself say anything thoughtless.
But today, Fujibayashi was determined to step on every land mine Tatsuya was trying to avoid. “I’m well aware, you know? I know I need to sort out my feelings. I can’t just stay hung up on him forever—he wouldn’t want that for me, either.”
Fujibayashi’s talk was starting to draw curious looks from other officers in the café, which made Tatsuya even more uncomfortable.
In 2092, Fujibayashi had lost the man she was about to marry in the battle of Okinawa. The engagement had been arranged by their parents, but nevertheless she had been unable to get over the loss.
He had only just received his commission as an officer. Okinawa had been his first assignment, and it was where he was killed in action. His death had been what made Fujibayashi abandon her burgeoning career as a researcher to walk the path of a uniformed officer. She didn’t seem to resent the military for his death—perhaps she had decided at some point that she would perform his duty in his stead.
Tatsuya wasn’t entirely sure, and she had never elaborated. What he did know was that Fujibayashi hadn’t moved on from her fiancé, and her environment wasn’t making that any easier.
When Fujibayashi finally noticed Tatsuya’s discomfiture, she hastily apologized. “Oh! God, I’m sorry… You don’t need to hear me complaining like this, Tatsuya.”
“Not at all. I’m sure your family is merely worried about you,” was all he could manage as a reply.
Just as Yakumo had said, rumors about Tatsuya and Miyuki spread like wildfire throughout the magician community.
“Shizuku, wait, is that true?!”
“…It has to be,” said Shizuku reluctantly, looking away from her friend Honoka, who stood up out of her chair across the table from her.
“Miyuki’s gonna be the next head of the Yotsuba family?!”
“Mm-hmm.”
Honoka shakily slumped back down to her seat. On the table between the two of them were two cups of black tea and a wide variety of colorful, bite-size cookies and sweets.
It was Sunday, January 6. Shizuku and Honoka were enjoying tea in the dining room of the Kitayama home—although the mood was not exactly pleasant.
Since Honoka had gone to the trouble of coming over to socialize (although it had been Shizuku who’d invited her), Shizuku didn’t relish having this conversation with her, but she thought it was preferable to seeing Honoka suddenly find out the next time she saw Tatsuya and Miyuki.
Just as Shizuku had predicted, the news came as a major shock to Honoka, whose gaze wandered about as she sat at the table.
But surprisingly, Honoka didn’t remain dazed for long. “Miyuki is…huh…” she murmured, seemingly accepting reality and fixing her eyes firmly on Shizuku. “Okay, that was a surprise, but I can kinda see it. And with their talent and ability, it makes sense that they’re both in the Ten Master Clans and Yotsubas to boot.”
Honoka gave off a lonely vibe but laughed it off with an expression that made it seem like a weight had been lifted.
“So who did you hear that from? Your aunt? Your uncle?”
“Apparently, the Yotsuba family sent notice to all the Numbered families through the Magic Association. My mom found out through an old contact she has.”
“I see. Maybe if my dad was home, he would’ve told me.”
Honoka’s father worked as the subordinate of a certain prominent member of a Numbered family. This news hadn’t been designated secret, so there was a good chance that it was a source of gossip at his workplace.
For the first time, Shizuku was glad that Honoka’s father was away. He didn’t know about his daughter’s crush. It seemed all too possible that he could’ve idly mentioned Tatsuya and Miyuki’s engagement, catching Honoka by surprise and leaving her with no one around to support her.
Not that this situation was an easy one for Shizuku to manage. She knew she wasn’t good at consoling people, which made it hard for her to figure out what to say in the first place.
“Honoka.”
“Hmm?”
But…I’ve got to tell her.
Honoka might well cry. No—she was definitely going to cry. And when she did, Shizuku felt a profound conviction that she was the only one Honoka could really cry in front of.
If Shizuku had felt any other way, she would’ve done anything to escape this conversation.
“The truth is, that’s not all my mom heard.”
“There’s more? What?”
Shizuku took a breath and said it all at once. “She heard that Miyuki and Tatsuya aren’t siblings but cousins. Apparently, not even Miyuki and Tatsuya themselves knew that. So—Tatsuya was chosen as Miyuki’s fiancé.”
“No…” Honoka’s face froze, but she soon smiled. “Oh, come on, Shizuku. Lay off the bad jokes. April Fools’ isn’t for another three months.”
Honoka waited for Shizuku to laugh with her or at least make a sheepish expression and say something like, “You got me.”
But Shizuku merely looked back at Honoka glumly.
“C’mon, Shizuku, you can stop kidding around now.” Though she was still smiling, there was fear in Honoka’s eyes as she pushed Shizuku to reveal the trick.
But Shizuku’s voice remained serious. “Honoka…”
“…It’s…true?” Honoka asked, trembling.
“…Yeah,” Shizuku confirmed hoarsely.
Honoka shot to her feet and tried to run from the dining room, but Shizuku quickly caught up to her. “Honoka!”
“Let me go!” Honoka twisted her body. She didn’t know who was holding onto her—nor did she know where she wanted to go or what she would do when she got there. Compelled by survival instinct to flee from the source of her fear, she blindly focused all her strength in her effort to shake free from Shizuku.
“Aaah!”
A cry. The sound of a body hitting the table. The sound of the table’s legs creaking. The sound of a chair flipping over. The sound of scattering silverware and breaking dishes.
“…Nnngh.”
Finally, a moan of pain brought Honoka to her senses. She hastily looked back to see Shizuku lying beside an overturned chair. Just past her on the floor was a mess of broken cups and saucers.
“Shizuku?! I-I’m sorry! Are you okay?!” Forgetting all about her crying—although now she was near tears for a different reason—Honoka hurried to Shizuku’s side.
“I’m fine,” said Shizuku, taking Honoka’s offered hand but standing up mostly on her own. “Just a little banged up. I’m not seriously hurt.” Her statement was meant both for Honoka and for the several maids who’d come rushing in at the sound of the commotion.
As though to reassure them, Shizuku showed no evidence of pain in her expression. She merely looked down at the sleeve of the dress she wore and faintly furrowed her brow. A significant splatter of milk tea was now soaking into the sleeve of her dress.
“Seems I did get a bit on me. I’ll go change in my room.”
“Ah, miss, let me help you—,” offered one of the maids, but Shizuku cut her off flatly.
“No need. Please clean this up instead.”
The maids of the house were well aware that the young lady of the house preferred to do her own dressing and bathing, so they did not attempt to offer any more help and quickly set about following Shizuku’s orders. “Yes, miss.”
“Honoka, you can come with me.”
“O-okay,” said Honoka, meekly accepting Shizuku’s words without any further thought. The shock of having thrown her—a bit of an overstatement, but still—into the table and onto the floor seemed to have overwritten the bewildering news she’d heard immediately prior.
By the time they arrived at Shizuku’s room, Honoka had calmed down considerably. Once they were alone, the first thing Honoka did was apologize.
“Shizuku, I, uh…I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control like that…”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I was injured badly, and I don’t think it’s even going to bruise.”
As she spoke, Shizuku had already shed her dress and was dropping her slip to the floor. As she bent over, Honoka could see the left hip, shoulder, and elbow that Shizuku had banged in her fall. Shizuku’s pale skin was faintly reddened, but it did indeed seem unlikely to bruise.
“You can just sit wherever, Honoka,” said Shizuku as she put on a flowing maxi dress.
Honoka looked around the room, then plopped herself down on the edge of Shizuku’s large bed.
“There we go,” said Shizuku upon finishing her changing. She sat down next to Honoka.
Even sitting, she was taller than Honoka, so she naturally ended up looking down at her as the two regarded each other.
“Honoka, are you okay?”
The words triggered a renewed swell of grief. Tears welled up in Honoka’s eyes, and Shizuku wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders.
“Is it really true that Tatsuya and Miyuki are cousins?”
“Yes.”
“And that they’re engaged?” Honoka wailed through her tears.
Shizuku squeezed Honoka tightly in reply.
“It’s…it’s not fair…” As though a dam inside her had broken, Honoka began to sob in earnest. “Tatsuya…said she was his sister… Miyuki…she said we were friends, too…”
Shizuku wordlessly drew her knees up and held Honoka’s head to her chest. As Honoka’s crying died down—she hadn’t stopped so much as exhausted herself—Shizuku brought her lips close to her friend’s ear.
“Honoka, you have three choices.”
Honoka’s body stirred with something besides a sob. Once Shizuku was certain her friend was hearing her, she continued.
“First, you can give up on Tatsuya. That’s probably the least painful path.”
Honoka gave no reaction, instead waiting for the other suggestions.
“Second, you can stay the course and pursue Tatsuya. I think Tatsuya really did believe Miyuki was his sister. The fact that they’re not came as a huge shock to both of them, I’m sure.”
“…You think so?” murmured Honoka tearfully.
“I do,” replied Shizuku, carefully avoiding phrases like probably or I think so. “Miyuki has loved Tatsuya as a man for a long time, but Tatsuya has only ever thought of her as his sister. The fact that they’re to be married must be awkward for him.”
“But they’re engaged now…”
“Only because they couldn’t refuse. This wasn’t a decision they made on their own, so your chances aren’t zero.”
Rather than saying Honoka had a chance, Shizuku very specifically said that her chances weren’t zero. Even in her current condition, Honoka understood what that meant. “…And my third choice?”
Shizuku took a breath, then after a brief hesitation, blurted out, “…Your third choice is to become Tatsuya’s mistress.”
“His mistress?!” At the unexpected word, Honoka raised her tear-streaked face to look at Shizuku.
“Not immediately, of course. Miyuki won’t become the head of the Yotsuba clan right away, either, and I imagine their marriage is a ways off as well. Your becoming his mistress would be after Tatsuya married Miyuki.”
“But a mistress…”
“Could you not stand to know you were sharing him?”
“That’s not—! …But maybe it would be better than not having him at all…” Honoka buried her red face in Shizuku’s chest again.
“Tatsuya has an extremely special type of magic. I’m sure the Yotsuba family wants him to pass on those genes to many children.” Shizuku wrapped her arms around Honoka and held her close. “The first choice will be the least painful for you. The second, if it doesn’t work out, still means you wouldn’t be hurt past that. But the third option, even if it goes well, could mean lifelong wounds that never heal. Not just for you but for Miyuki as well.”
“…”
“I think you should take the first path, Honoka. But it’s your choice to make.”
Shizuku knew it was a cruel thing to ask of Honoka. But if she left Honoka alone, she was terrified that her friend would sink deeper and deeper into her desolation and never rise out of it.
And if that happened, Shizuku was even more terrified that eventually Honoka would start to long for death.
Shizuku said nothing more, waiting for Honoka’s reply.
“…I can’t give up,” finally came the answer. “I just can’t. Not yet. But I can’t stand the thought of not being the one he loves the most, either. If I have to hurt Miyuki, I’m ready for that, but I could never go on hurting her again and again.”
The words pained Shizuku to hear—but she was also somehow relieved. “So—”
“I choose the second path. Until there’s no chance at all, I’ll keep pursuing him. …Although probably not right away.”
Shizuku furrowed her brow at the muttered end of Honoka’s declaration, not certain what to make of it.
“…I think I’m going to need a little break.”
“A break from love?”
“A break from being in love.”
Her face still pressed against Shizuku’s chest, Honoka chuckled.
Shizuku pulled away from Honoka and composed herself there on the bed, laughing shyly.