There had been little progress in the investigation ever since the American military had interfered in the hunt for Gu Jie two days earlier, and thinking on the events of that night gave Tatsuya a terrible feeling of futility. His enthusiasm for the mission only made the disappointment that much worse. The only good thing to come out of all this was that he’d been spared having to fire on troops from his own country’s military. Thanks to how everything had developed, Tatsuya’s motivation was extremely low, and he was not particularly inclined to put much effort into his duties.

As far as the USNA’s aiding of Gu Jie’s escape went, he’d given reports to both Maya and Kazama. He’d also requested that Kazama look into the background of the incident. But a full day later, nothing had come of it.

Of course, neither Katsuto, Mayumi, nor Masaki had come up with anything, either. Nothing promising came from the meeting Katsuto held. Nobody had anything to add to the redacted report Tatsuya gave, aside from witness reports coming from Zama.

Masaki, who’d gone so far as to temporarily move, was feeling pressured enough that he was also considering skipping school in order to fully devote himself to the investigation. Doing so, however, would fly in the face of both his father and Ms. Maeda, the principal of Third High, after all they had done to make his unusual arrangement a possibility, so Masaki decided to grit his teeth and be patient.

During practical magic studies, any distraction could lead to serious injuries, so he managed to suppress his ever-present anxiety about his mission and simply apply himself to his studies for a few hours, but during academic classes, it was impossible for him to focus. Feeling ashamed of what he’d been reduced to, he stood and headed for the dining hall once lunchtime rolled around.

For the last two days, Masaki had been invited by Honoka to sit with her and Miyuki at their lunch table. For him, this had been an unexpected and delightful way to spend his time. Rather than Miyuki being super-close to Tatsuya, she seemed to go out of her way to talk to Masaki, chatting more with him than she did Tatsuya.

But today, he didn’t particularly want to show his dejected face to the girl he liked.

So the moment the class period ended, Masaki stood and tried to head for the dining hall alone.

But before he could escape the classroom, a girl’s voice called out to him. Two girls, actually—and not Honoka, Shizuku, or Miyuki, but two random girls from his class.

“Ichijou!”

“Please take this!”

Before Masaki could reply, two small ribbon-wrapped boxes were thrust into his chest.

He reflexively accepted the boxes, but he didn’t even have time to ask what they were before the two girls ran off, squealing.

“Aw, they got the drop on us!”

“Fine, I’m next!”

Even as Masaki continued to fail to grasp the situation, other girls from the class began to swarm around him. There were five total. Like the first two, they foisted their prettily wrapped little boxes off on him before hurrying away from the classroom themselves.

“My, Ichijou, you’re certainly popular.”

Masaki turned at the amused voice that came from behind him.

There was the usual trio, with Honoka in front, and Shizuku and Miyuki behind her.

Miyuki smiled serenely at the many boxes Masaki was still holding.

Masaki suddenly felt unaccountably nervous. There was no reason for this to be happening, he thought—but this was his misunderstanding. “What the heck is…?”

Shizuku made an incredulous face at Masaki’s continuing incomprehension—a surprisingly easy-to-read expression, coming from her. “Today is Valentine’s Day.”

Masaki froze. He slowly looked down; he was holding seven boxes. There was no way to hide them, even if he’d tried. There would’ve been no point in trying, but Masaki was too alarmed even to realize that.

“If you’ve already got this many, you’ll probably get even more before the day is out,” Miyuki stated casually, striking Masaki another blow.

Masaki borrowed a shopping bag from a male classmate who’d had one on hand for whatever reason—no one pressed him as to why—and after filling it with the boxes he’d received from the girls, he left it next to his desk and, mourning the loss of his resolve to eat alone, was marched by Honoka to the dining hall.

It was here that Masaki finally noticed the restless atmosphere that was spreading throughout the school. A pall had fallen over the hearts of the student body thanks to the worldwide increase in anti-magician sentiment, and everyone was generally gloomier than average. And yet, it was undeniable that a certain agitated anticipation was suddenly present as well.

“Ah, there he is,” Erika said with a grin as she caught sight of Masaki.

“C’mon, Erika, knock it off,” Mikihiko chided with an uneasy smile, but she was having none of it.

“What? What’s the matter? It’s not like you have any reason to envy anybody, Miki.”

Still not understanding what was going on, Masaki brought his lunch tray to his seat, whereupon Erika immediately pounced.

“So, Ichijou, how many chocolates have you gotten so far?”

Masaki counted himself lucky that he hadn’t taken a bite of his lunch yet. If he’d had anything in his mouth, he was sure he’d have spit it out. “Chiba, what are you…?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ If I’m asking about your Valentine’s chocolate haul today, what else could I possibly mean?”

There was nothing to say to Erika’s comeback other than that it was absolutely correct, and Masaki was at a loss for words.

“So what’s the number? My money’s on you being in double digits.”

“Money?”

“Uh, whoops.” Erika pretended to clamp her mouth shut at the scandalized look Masaki shot her. But the delight in her eyes made it clear she didn’t harbor a shred of guilt.

“I’m surprised you found someone willing to take that bet, Erika. Who was it?” Tatsuya asked slyly.

“I couldn’t say.”

“I’m not on the disciplinary committee anymore.”

“Sure, but the chief of said committee’s right there,” Erika replied, her finger pointing at Mikihiko, who was leaning his elbow on the table and propping up his head. He heaved a deep sigh.

“Tatsuya, Erika…that’s the jurisdiction of a student council member.”

“Oh, is it? Well, I’m still not talking.” Erika sounded like she was about to stick her tongue out. She turned back to Masaki. “So how many?”

“Does it matter?” Masaki grumbled, sounding quite resentful. He seemed to have figured out there was no need to be formal and reserved around Erika.

In any case, he didn’t want to linger on this topic for long. Even if Miyuki didn’t think anything of it—the fact that he’d been given chocolate, that is—it still gave Masaki the uncomfortable sensation that he was being unfaithful.

But his hope that this would end the conversation was cruelly dashed.

“Seven.”

“Seven, I think.”

The answer came nearly simultaneously from Shizuku and Honoka.

“Seven, huh…? Well, I guess it’s only lunchtime. You’ll definitely hit double digits before you go home.”

Masaki wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible, but Erika wasn’t the only one who’d taken an interest in it.

“Seven? That’s pretty impressive for someone who only just transferred here,” Leo said with an exaggerated nod.

He didn’t seem to have any ulterior motive, but it wasn’t like a simple lack of malice would let Masaki just laugh it off. “I didn’t transfer. And how many did you get, Saijou?”

“Me? A big fat zero.”

And yet, it wasn’t as though Masaki was genuinely irritated at the Valentine’s situation. He wasn’t so petty a man as that. So when he heard Leo’s unexpected answer, he was suddenly and awkwardly at a loss for what to say.

“You’re acting pretty calm about that, Leo.”

“I’ve still got my club coming up, so I’m not worried.”

So that was the situation. Masaki breathed a sigh of relief at hearing Tatsuya and Leo’s exchange.

“Ha, they’re just going to be obligatory chocolates anyway.”

“I don’t wanna hear that from a girl who doesn’t even have anybody to give obligatory chocolate to.”

“Sucks to be you—I just don’t care, that’s all.”

“Say whatever you want; it amounts to the same thing.”

“All this wishful thinking coming out of your mouth.”

Erika had switched her attention from Masaki to Leo, but it just ended up making Masaki uneasy for a different reason.

“Cut it out, you two,” Mikihiko interrupted them, already sounding tired. In that moment, Masaki felt a kind of kinship with him.

Class ended, and Tatsuya headed for the front gate. He was missing student council duties again today, thanks to the Gu Jie search.

That said, it wasn’t like Tatsuya himself was going to personally interview witnesses. His job was to follow up on the analyses provided by magicians like Yoshimi who had perception-enhancing abilities, as well as the leads provided (illegally) by cooperative intelligence agencies. So long as there wasn’t any new information, he would remain on standby.

Ever since the intervention from the American military two days earlier, they hadn’t discovered any useful leads. Tatsuya knew that the more time passed, the more difficult apprehending their target became, but flailing aimlessly would only waste energy. There was no meaning in such action. If today hadn’t been Valentine’s Day, he probably would’ve attended the student council meeting.

Tatsuya was trudging toward the school gate when he heard the sound of running footsteps approaching from behind.

“Tatsuya!” Honoka called out, just as Tatsuya turned.

Behind Honoka stood Shizuku. Tatsuya was relieved that Honoka hadn’t come alone. He felt bad for her, but Tatsuya really didn’t want to deal with her today.

“Could you spare a bit of time?” Honoka’s voice was nervous, but the look in her eyes spoke of her determination.

“Should we go somewhere else?” Tatsuya suggested, instead of just agreeing.

“No, er, here is fine,” she said, then from her vintage bag—a century earlier, it would have been called a schoolbag—she produced a beautifully wrapped box. “Please accept this!”

They were right in the middle of the broad walkway that led out through the school’s front gate. Tatsuya and the two girls were not the only students there. Several passersby slowed their pace and peered curiously at the developing scene.

It wasn’t that Honoka was too nervous to notice her surroundings but the opposite. She was showing her resolve by choosing to do this where so many other students could see.

“Thanks.” Tatsuya didn’t reject her, but what he did reply with might have been crueler than simple rejection. “But is this really okay with you? I’m engaged to Miyuki.”

However, Honoka’s resolve was not so fragile as to collapse at this expected obstacle. “It’s fine,” she said. “I know. But I would still be very pleased if you would accept it.”

“…I see. In that case, I will.” Tatsuya had nothing more than that to add, given Honoka’s feelings. “See you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” called out Shizuku, just as Tatsuya had taken the chocolates and was turning to leave. “Use this,” she said, thrusting a stylish carrying bag at him. It was made of artificial leather in a black-and-white pattern and used a tote bag design, with an airtight closure to keep water out.

Since Tatsuya hadn’t brought a bag that day, he didn’t have anywhere to put the chocolate he’d received. He was honestly grateful for Shizuku’s offer. “I’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”

Accepting the second gift, Tatsuya noticed that it was a bit heavier than he’d expected it to be, and he furrowed his brow slightly. When he went to put the box inside the already-open bag, he realized there was another box already in there.

“Don’t worry—you can have it,” Shizuku said with perfect timing as Tatsuya looked up. “It’s obligatory,” she added with a faintly mischievous smile. “Oh, and you don’t have to give the bag back.”

She then quickly looked away, bashfully.

A faint smile colored Tatsuya’s face. The anxiety between him and Honoka relaxed into something more pleasant. If it had ended there, the encounter would have felt like a lovely, youthful interlude.

But then another actor leaped onto the stage, delaying the curtain’s fall.

“And from me, too!”

“Amy?!”

Ignoring Honoka’s vaguely indignant cry of her nickname, Amy trotted up to Tatsuya. “Here, have some obligatory chocolate!”

Tatsuya found himself presented with a little box, small enough to easily fit in the palm of his hand. “Uh, sure.” Having just accepted Shizuku’s “obligation chocolate,” he didn’t have any excuse not to accept this one.

“Amy, what about Tomitsuka?!” Honoka demanded.

“I was just on my way to give him his,” she said without looking particularly guilty or embarrassed. “But it looked like Shiba was heading home, and obligation or not, if you don’t hand out your chocolate on Valentine’s Day, then what’s the point?”

She was entirely nonchalant about it.

Subaru appeared out from under the shadows of the trees lining the path. “And here’s some from me,” she said, offering Tatsuya not a box but a small pouch. “Ah, and I’m sure you can guess, but this is strictly obligatory.”

“Naturally,” Tatsuya responded smoothly with a faint smile, accepting the pouch.

Honoka didn’t seem inclined to protest this.

Just as Tatsuya thought the encounter was over—

“Shiba!”

A freshman student called out to him. It was the girl who’d been paired up with Minami during the Shields Down event at the Nine School Competition. She had her classmates in tow, and when all was said and done, the bag Shizuku had given Tatsuya was so full that he couldn’t keep it closed with just one hand.

When Tatsuya returned home after the meeting with Katsuto ended, Miyuki was waiting for him just inside the threshold of the entryway, sitting in a formal kneel with both her hands resting in her lap.

“Welcome home, Tatsuya.”

“Miyuki… What’s going on?”

Miyuki was wearing a frilly apron over a long, flared dress, but the way she greeted him made it seem like a traditional kimono would’ve been more fitting. The feeling he got that she was deliberately blocking his way into the house had to be his imagination.

“Is something strange?”

“No… Not strange, but…”

Miyuki wasn’t moving, so Tatsuya stayed where he was in the entryway.

“Incidentally, Tatsuya, are you carrying anything? I’ll be happy to take it for you.”

“As you can see, I’m not… Why do you ask?”

Miyuki looked away, breaking eye contact. “I…simply heard that you had become rather loaded down on your way home from school.”

With this explanation, Tatsuya understood what had gotten Miyuki bent out of shape.

“I didn’t get anything from Saegusa. Although she does enjoy her pranks,” he said, recalling the previous year—and that exceedingly bitter chocolate—but he avoided derailing the conversation by mentioning it explicitly. “And you didn’t even give obligatory chocolate to Ichijou, right?”

In fact, Miyuki didn’t give such a thing to any of her classmates or seniors. The fuss it would raise was more trouble than it was worth. But that wasn’t the only reason why she’d avoided Masaki. If she’d given him chocolate today, she knew there was every chance it wouldn’t be perceived as ordinary chocolate for a friendly acquaintance. Remembering that, Miyuki understood what Tatsuya was getting at.

“When I received chocolate from Honoka, I made sure to very clearly tell her that you and I were engaged. She said that she still wanted me to accept hers, so I didn’t refuse.”

Miyuki looked hastily up. Her eyes were wide. “Tatsuya! That’s just so…”

“…Hard to watch?”

Miyuki looked down again. It was the same motion as before, but the mood in the entryway was very different. Her charmingly prickly demeanor was all but gone. A heavy tension now lingered in the space between them.

“Honoka probably noticed I felt sorry for her. Maybe I should’ve flatly refused her, for her own sake, but…”

Miyuki stood, her gaze still averted. “You haven’t had any dinner yet, right? I’ll get it ready, so please go ahead and wait in the dining room.” Without responding to Tatsuya’s moment of introspection, she turned her back to him.

Since Tatsuya had informed them that he’d be having dinner after he got home, neither Miyuki nor Minami had eaten yet. This had become a fairly common pattern recently.

The conversation around the dinner table that evening was halting, and dinner concluded amid a rather awkward mood.

“Thank you for the food,” Tatsuya said. Once everyone had finished eating, he stood, thinking it would be good to give everybody some time to cool their heads. He collected his dishes and started to head for the kitchen.

But Miyuki stopped him short. “I’m sorry, Tatsuya, but could you stay for a moment?”

Tatsuya nodded and sat back down.

At a glance from Miyuki, Minami quickly cleared the dishes from the table.

Miyuki took a silver platter covered by a cake dome out of the refrigerator and carried it back to the table.

“I’m not sure if your accepting Honoka’s chocolates was the right thing to do or if it was a mistake.” Miyuki looked evenly into Tatsuya’s eyes. “Honestly, I’m still not sure, so I decided to stop thinking about it. Maybe that makes me a heartless girl, but I have other things to think about.”

Miyuki took a breath, less in preparation for what she was about to say next and more to calm her racing heart.

“After seeing you so preoccupied with Honoka’s feelings, I almost decided not to do this, but…I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

Miyuki set the cake down. An indescribably bitter scent wafted across the table, tickling Tatsuya’s nose mischievously.

It was a simple dark-chocolate cake, without cream or fruit topping of any kind.

But its surface was glassily smooth and reflective, and its perfectly round shape was clearly not something an amateur could have made.

“Since I went to the trouble of making it, I’d like for you to have some, Tatsuya. Will you accept my Valentine’s chocolate?”

Miyuki set a dessert plate with a knife and fork on it in front of Tatsuya.

Tatsuya picked the knife up, as though he’d been waiting for this moment, and sliced into the cake with it.

Slicing a sixth out of the whole, he then used his fork to transfer it to his plate.

“The truth is, I was looking forward to this,” said Tatsuya, locking eyes with Miyuki with a smile.

“I’ll go make some coffee!” his sister said, quickly rising to her feet and hurrying to the kitchen.

With her back turned to Tatsuya as she worked the hand-crank coffee mill, Miyuki’s cheeks were faintly flushed, and she couldn’t help the little smile that played about her lips.