Chapter 7

Day three of the Nine School Competition.

On this third day, the finals of men’s and women’s Ice Pillars Break and men’s and women’s Battle Board would be held, leading some to call it the peak of the competition’s first half.

First High’s current status in the events saw two competitors in men’s Ice Pillars Break and men’s and women’s Battle Board, with one still in women’s Ice Pillars Break.

It hadn’t gone quite as planned, but it was within the allowable margins of their strategy.

“Hattori will be in the first men’s race, Watanabe in the second women’s race, Chiyoda in the first women’s match, and Juumonji in the third men’s match…”

After looking at the match list, he was a little worried. Though there was a time differential in terms of starting and match times based on which event it was, he wouldn’t be able to see both Hattori’s and Kanon’s bouts. I guess Hattori wouldn’t want me to come watch him anyway…

Still, with Miyuki being with him on the student council, it would be a problem for her to display indifference toward his race.

“Oh, there he is. Tatsuya!”

But he didn’t worry for very long—in fact, he didn’t need to. “President, did you need anything?”

“I just wanted a little help on something.”

Tatsuya was then dragged away by Mayumi to the work vehicles.

“Tatsuya, it’s about to start!”

In the end, Tatsuya wasn’t released until right before Mari’s race was starting. If he wasn’t there after she came by while he was working just to remind him that he was going to come watch her race, there was no telling what they might say about him, even though it would only be a few people.

He briefly thanked his sister and friends for saving his seat and looked over to the starting line.

He really had been just on time. Mari was already ready to go, her short bob haircut under her bandana swaying in the wind.

The semifinals would be two races with three people in each. The winners would go on to duke it out in a one-on-one final race.

As the other two competitors’ faces were tense with nervousness, Mari alone wore a fearless expression as they waited for the starting signal.

The first buzzer sounded to have them get ready. The audience fell completely quiet.

A moment later, the second buzzer went off.

The race had begun.

Mari jumped ahead to first place. This time, though, unlike the qualifiers, the second-place competitor was close behind. Third place was a little bit farther back.

“She’s good…!”

“Seventh Sea High as usual…”

“This is the same matchup as the finals from last year.”

The surface of the water undulated fiercely, indicating the magic battle going back and forth between them. Normally, Mari being in front would be advantageous thanks to the backwash synergy, but the Seventh High competitor was riding her board skillfully to make up for her magical disadvantage. After passing the long meandering zone in front of the grandstands, they approached a sharp corner with almost no distance between them. After they went around, the crowd wouldn’t be able to see them and they’d have to watch on the screens. Tatsuya glanced over at the image of the corner up on the big display.

“Mm?”

Something was a little odd there, and it caught his eye.

“What?!”

And so, mistakenly, he let the moment slip past him.

There was a scream from the audience. He hurried to look back down and saw the Seventh High competitor tumbling over.

“She went too fast?!” someone shouted.

It did look like that—her board wasn’t gripping the water. She shot across the surface as if flying, and would have been on a crash course with the fence…

…if there hadn’t been someone in front of her.

But Mari was there, having just come out of her deceleration and having begun to speed up.

Mari’s body was facing the fence, but she seemed to notice the girl coming up from behind and looked over her shoulder.

The way she reacted was nothing short of incredible.

She canceled her forward acceleration then switched over to horizontal rotational acceleration. Then, using the waves bouncing back from the wall of the waterway, she turned her board around with magic and riding skills.

After that, she multicasted two spells to stop the out-of-control Seventh High competitor. Movement magic to deflect the incoming board, and a weighting/inertial dampening spell to keep the girl from being flung into the fence from the impact.

Normally, the crisis would have been averted there.

If not for the surface of the water suddenly sinking in.

It was a slight change.

But Mari had just executed a high-level technique: turning 180 degrees on her board. She was no surfing expert. She had forced herself to change stances because of those excellent spells and body manipulation, so when she suddenly lost buoyancy, she completely lost her balance.

And because of that, there was a gap in her magic execution.

She succeeded in deflecting the board trying to take her feet out from under her.

However, before her inertial dampening spell could activate, the Seventh High competitor, having lost her footing, collided with Mari.

The two of them flew entangled toward the fence.

There were several loud screams.

The race suspension flag was waved.

Tatsuya, too, stood up despite himself.

Mari had been sandwiched between the fence and the other athlete—and she didn’t seem to have taken the fall well at all.

“Tatsuya!” Miyuki looked up at him, her face pale.

“I’m going. You all wait here.”

Tatsuya had a lot of practice being a bodyguard—or a soldier—from a young age, so he had enough skill to do basic surgical procedures.

“All right.”

Miyuki understood by his calm voice that them going would only increase the confusion. She waved their half-standing friends back down into their seats, then nodded at Tatsuya.

He began to run down the jam-packed grandstands, slipping through railings like a ghost.

Her awakening wasn’t what could be called swift. There was a haze in her mind; she couldn’t grasp the situation.

What was she doing here…?

That question was the first thought that came to mind after she opened her eyes.

“Are you awake, Mari? Do you know who I am?”

The bad influence—and despite calling her that at such a time and only in her mind, she still didn’t use the word friend—was peering down into her face. She understood what the question meant, but she didn’t know why she was being asked such a thing, so she asked back quizzically,

“What are you saying, Mayumi? Why would you need to…”

…and then midway through her sentence, arrived at the answer, and to her current situation.

“This is the hospital…”

“Yes, the hospital at Susono Base. Thank goodness… It looks like your mind is working fine.”

“How long was I out?”

The dull pain in the back of her head told her that she hadn’t been sleeping—she’d been unconscious after failing to fall safely.

“For some of the afternoon. Oh, don’t get up!”

Mari tried to sit herself up in bed, but Mayumi came around quickly and pushed her back down. She didn’t use much force, but Mari only had half of her usual freedom of movement.

“You broke a few ribs. They’re being held together with magic now, but they still aren’t attached. I’m sure you know this, but magic is really only a temporary treatment—”

“—and I’ll feel like they’re healed until they’re actually attached. The injury was far too heavy to recover instantly. Yeah, I got it. I know that much.” Mari tiredly let her body fall back to the bed as she interrupted what Mayumi was saying, as if speaking to herself. “How long will it take until they reattach?”

“A full recovery will be one week. You’ll regain normal function after a day’s sleep, but just to be sure, you’re not allowed to do any vigorous exercise for ten days.”

“Wait! But that means…?!”

“You’re out of Mirage Bat, too. I’m sorry.”

“I see…”

Mari sighed and shut her eyes. It was a little while before her eyelids opened again.

“…What happened with the race?”

“Seventh High was disqualified due to the dangerous maneuver, so the finals will be Third High and Ninth High. Third place will be us and Second High. Kobayakawa seems like she’s really into it, so we might be able to come away with third.”

“She’s more than good enough—too bad about how easily her mood changes.”

“Mm. Also, Seventh High’s competitor doesn’t appear to have been badly hurt. You managed to protect her enough for that.”

“…Doesn’t help the fact that I’m badly hurt, though,” said Mari, pretending to complain and be discouraged. Mayumi giggled inappropriately at the pretense of her attitude. Mari turned away and pretended not to notice.

“As for the boys, Hanzou is going to the finals. Murakami just barely missed out, though. Juumonji is advancing to the finals league for the men’s Ice Pillars Break. Kanon is going to the finals league for the women’s Ice Pillars Break, too.”

“So I ended up being the only miscalculation…”

“You couldn’t help it. Mari, your judgment was correct. If you didn’t decelerate right there, you might have been able to just graze by the collision. And you probably would have won, too, but… Seventh High’s competitor would have gotten badly injured, and that probably would have spelled the end of her career as a magician. That’s how dangerous the whole thing was. Tatsuya agrees with me, too.”

“…Hey, why bother bringing him up now?”

“Because he’s the one who carried you here and stayed while you were being treated.”

“What?”

“Of course, I didn’t leave everything to him… Are you surprised?”

Mayumi smiled complacently, and Mari turned away again with a sour expression. Her relief at having woken up made Mayumi’s face all the more unbearable.

“I wouldn’t have let a boy see a girl changing. He made sure to wait in the hallway during treatment. But you should still thank him later. He ran straight there as fast as the relief squad did, helped get you out of the waterway, saw immediately that you had broken ribs, and even gave instructions about how to patch you up until they could get you here.”

“…Who the hell is he?” asked Mari, eyes wide with astonishment.

Mayumi nodded deeply. “It kind of feels like he’s really used to accidents and injured people and such… How are you feeling, by the way?”

“That was sudden… My head hurts a little, but it’s probably just a surface injury. I’m fully aware.”

“It doesn’t look like there was any damage to your brain, either… Okay, maybe I should ask now.”

“?”

Mari looked at her askance, and Mayumi returned her gaze with a serious look.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Mari… Did you get obstructed by magic from a third party at the time?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about when you lost your balance right before the Seventh High competitor ran into you. Did you lose your balance because an illegal magic from a third party was interfering with the water’s surface?”

Mari’s eyes sharpened as she understood what Mayumi was getting at. “…Yeah, I remember there being an unnatural tremor at my feet right before my board sank. But I didn’t know whether it was because of magic or not, much less whether it was against any rules… Why do you think that?”

“The way the water’s surface was moving when you slipped was unnatural. It had the particular discontinuity of magic-based event alteration. But at the time, neither Seventh High’s nor Ninth High’s competitor was using magic like that. That means the only possibility is that it was a spell from a third party. Tatsuya is of the same opinion, too. He borrowed the video from the tournament committee; he says he’s going to do a wave analysis on the water’s surface. That way, at least we’ll know whether some unnatural phenomenon was taking place.”

“I want to say I don’t think a high school freshman would have enough skill to do something like that, but I’ll leave that aside for the moment… I mean, I was using magic against the other competitors, too, so why bother figuring out if there was some unnatural force at work? I don’t really see the point…”

“He said he was going to look into whether there was some other force at work and take into account the spell effects from the other racers. Isori said he’d help, too, after today’s matches were over. I think we might come up with something meaningful. If you remember anything else, do mention it. This is just an issue of our—of First High’s—rankings; it could affect all the magic high schools in the Nine School Competition.”

“……”

Mari fell silent as she lay in bed. Mayumi told her she needed to get back soon, then left the hospital room. Now alone, Mari’s eyes had only grown more serious as she stared at the ceiling.

When Miyuki answered the door at the knocking, she found two of her upperclassmen there.

“Please, come in… Tatsuya, Isori and Chiyoda have come to see you.”

At Miyuki’s voice, Tatsuya stopped typing on his keyboard and stood up.

“Sorry for calling you out here.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who said he’d help, and I can’t make you bring a terminal after you’ve started working on it.”

Tatsuya bowed lightly in apology, but Isori waved it away casually. Tatsuya nodded again, then looked at Kanon this time. “Chiyoda, congratulations on your victory.”

“Thanks. Mari got mixed up in all that trouble, so I need to do good enough for both of us!”

Kanon clenched a fist; the term ardor fit her well, and Tatsuya found her a little hard to look at.

“Did you find anything out?”

“I did a general inspection, but it seems like we’re still looking at a third party’s interference. Isori, could you check to make sure?”

“Sure thing… You really do work fast, Shiba.”

As Isori sat down in the chair Tatsuya pointed to, he also used his hands to express admiration.

The small desktop display (still equivalent to a twenty-inch monitor in traditional units) was split into two parts of the screen, with one showing a video and the other showing a simulated wireframe version of the video.

Isori extended the thin, metallic C-shaped object—a brain-assisted monocle viewing pointer—and placed it on his forehead with a familiar ease. Then, bringing his right eye to the monocle portion, he placed his thumb on the clicker on the bottom middle of the keyboard.

Brain assistance and viewing pointers were input support mechanisms originally made so that you didn’t have to ever take your hands off the keyboard, but they had become a tool for not having to use the keyboard at all.

Still, Isori seemed to be following its original usage as a keyboard input support.

As he controlled it, the actual video and the simulation moved at the same time.

He brought the cursor over to the time bar as it got closer to the accident, and slowed down the playback.

The upper part of the simulation screen displayed all the factors affecting changes in the water’s surface using numbers.

At the moment the problematic dip in the water’s surface appeared, the screen displayed an entry called unknown, indicating that measurement errors couldn’t account for this “force” in the water.

Isori stopped the video and turned around. “…This could be harder than we thought.”

“What do you mean, Kei?”

“As you know, Kanon, in the Nine School Competition, there’s a lot of surveillance equipment set up and many magicians excelling in anti-magic positioned all throughout each event as tournament staff. It’s to prevent unfairness due to magical interference from outside. If their surveillance didn’t catch this, then I’m going to guess someone created a local downburst high in the air, above where the surveillance equipment could scan, then pushed the high-pressure air bubble down to the water’s surface to make it dip like that. But there’s no way Watanabe wouldn’t have noticed something like that, so my hypothesis has a few holes.

“But according to Shiba’s analysis, the force that caused the water surface to dip originated from under the water. Any magic sequences being injected to the waterway from outside would have been caught by the surveillance equipment without a doubt. Plus, the only natural phenomenon that could have been responsible for the surface of the water descending because of something under the surface would be if the bottom of the waterway gave out—and that’s impossible, too. The other possibility is that an operative was actually underwater there, I guess…but that’s even more ridiculous…”

“Couldn’t that just mean Shiba’s analysis was wrong?”

At Kanon’s unreserved remark, Miyuki’s face color changed.

“No, that can’t be it.”

But before she could say anything, Isori rejected Kanon’s doubt.

“Shiba’s analysis was perfect. I can’t do any more than he can with my skills, at least, and I can’t find any mistakes.”

Isori and Kanon both fell silent in thought.

The second hand on the clock went around almost twice before there was another knock at the door.

Miyuki asked her brother with her eyes, and after getting a nod in return, went to greet the visitors.

She came back a moment later.

Behind her were their two classmates.

“Mizuki says you called her here…”

“Sorry for bringing you two out here.”

He indirectly affirmed his sister’s question and turned back to face his two upperclassmen.

“Allow me to introduce you. These are my classmates, Yoshida and Shibata. As I’m sure you know by now, these are Isori and Chiyoda, juniors.”

After Mikihiko and Mizuki finished their nervous introductions and Isori and Kanon their frank ones, the five of them all seemed a little confused. Tatsuya gave them all a simple answer.

“I had these two come to unravel the mystery of our little underwater operative.”

Of course, that wasn’t enough explanation for anyone. Tatsuya knew that from the beginning, so he continued his explanation without skipping a beat.

“We’re currently investigating the possibility that Watanabe was affected by an obstacle brought about by unfair magic from a third party.”

That was the explanation Mikihiko and Mizuki needed. The former frowned, and the latter was clearly surprised.

“Just before Watanabe lost her balance, there was an unnatural dip in the surface of the water. It threw off the timing of her inertial dampening spell, which resulted in them crashing into the fence. It’s almost certain that the dip in the water surface came from magical interference underwater.”

Mizuki’s surprise still hadn’t left her face.

Mikihiko, though, after hearing Tatsuya’s words, had a strong glint in his eye.

“It was undetected from outside the course, and it couldn’t have been done from the waterway. It’s also improbable that it was a delayed-activation spell. If it had been, Kobayakawa would have noticed it in the first race.”

Modern magic had the concept of delayed activation like old magic did, but it required the magic sequence to be “recorded” on the target. The target would be altered as soon as the delayed-activation spell was applied, and that alteration would then activate the next spell after a delay.

“That means we need to consider that a spell was hidden underwater by something—at least, that’s mine and Isori’s opinion.”

He looked at the two of them for verification, and both nodded to show their understanding.

“However, it’s preposterous to think that a live magician was hidden underwater at the time. As far as we know at the moment, neither modern magic nor old magic has a method to cloak yourself so perfectly.”

This time, Isori and Kanon nodded at Tatsuya’s words.

“That means it’s only logical to think that something nonhuman was hidden inside the waterway using the spell.”

Isori and Kanon exchanged glances, doubt coming over both their faces. It was a little while before a question came in return. “…Shiba, are you thinking it could have been SB magic?”

Tatsuya nodded at Isori’s words.

Magicians who used modern magic always perceived spells because of their psionic waves. But SB, short for “spiritual being,” also called spirit magic, was fundamentally made from pushions, not psions. The psions that could be observed at the same time were external additions to apply direction to their “movement”—for example, the commands to use the spirits in a certain way. That was the most prominent theory at the moment.

It wasn’t that magicians were unable to sense pushions—it was that they normally couldn’t distinguish their states like they could with psions. As an analogy, people can feel infrared rays as a vague concept of “warmth,” but we can’t perceive differences in infrared wavelengths through the lenses of color and tint as we can with visible light. Energized pushions were clearly “there” for a magician. However, it was difficult to sense pushions in a state of low energy. That meant magicians of modern magic found it difficult to ferret out purposely hidden SB. Magic to use spiritual beings: If this was a time-delayed technique due to spirit magic, then it was highly likely it would have slipped through the observing tournament staff.

“Yoshida specializes in spirit magic. In addition, Shibata has a particularly high sensitivity to pushion radiation.”

“So that’s why you had them come here.” Isori nodded again, and Tatsuya turned to Mikihiko.

“Mikihiko, I want your opinion as an expert. Given the specific condition of, say, a few hours’ delay, is it possible for spirit magic to be used for a delayed-activation spell that could cause the surface of the water to dip?”

“It’s possible,” Mikihiko answered immediately. “With that condition, the timing of the start of the second race would be the first activation condition, and the people approaching on the surface of the water would be the second. You could command water spirits to create a wave, or even make a whirlpool. And it’s possible with shikigami as well, not only spirits.”

“Would you be able to do it?”

“It would depend on the time I had. I wouldn’t be able to do it on the spot, but give me around half a month to set it up and a way to sneak into the stadium a few times, and it would be possible.”

“Would you need to sneak into the stadium the night before?”

“No. As long as I understood the ley lines and terrain, I can send spirits through ley lines. The prior investigation would be for that purpose. Oh, but…”

“?”

“If you go about it like that, the spell won’t have any meaningful power. Spirits borrow their strength based on their user’s strength of will. I’d think that if you set it up a few hours beforehand, the most you could do is surprise an intruder, like pretending to punch someone.”

“Which means…?”

“You could mess with the surface of the water, but it wouldn’t make a big enough wave to make Watanabe lose her balance. Without the Seventh High racer being on a collision course with her, it would have just been a childish prank.”

For whatever reason, Tatsuya nodded slowly at his explanation. “If it was a simple accident, anyway.”

“Huh?” The profound suggestion obviously made Mikihiko dubious, but Tatsuya didn’t answer immediately; instead he turned to look at Mizuki.

“Mizuki, during Watanabe’s accident, did you see any SB activity?”

“…I had my glasses on, so no… I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine. I was the one being careless at the time, so you don’t need to apologize.” Tatsuya bowed in apology to Mizuki, who had hung her head, and Miyuki started to soothe her. “Back to what I was saying…”

His eyes were directed toward Mikihiko, but Isori and Kanon both knew his words were being directed toward them as well.

“I don’t believe the Seventh High racer losing control was a mere accident. Look at this.”

Tatsuya brought Mikihiko before the display and replayed the simulated video from the beginning. Aware of Isori and Kanon peeking at it from the side, he stopped playback a little bit before the collision.

“Normally, right here, the Seventh High racer would need to decelerate.” He started playing it back frame by frame. “But as you can see, right here, she actually accelerated even more.”

“…You’re right. That is unnatural.”

“I get it. No magician would be chosen to compete in the Nine School Competition if they would make such a silly mistake.”

Nodding to Isori and Kanon’s comments, Tatsuya returned playback to normal speed. “I think someone tampered with the Seventh High racer’s CAD.”

An air of surprise filled the room.

“This corner is the first place in the course you need to decelerate at. If her deceleration activation program was secretly switched with an acceleration one, there would be an accident for sure on this turn. If we look at the lap times from last year’s finals matchup, one could easily predict that Watanabe and the Seventh High racer would round this corner nearly on top of each other. If I had wanted to mess them up, it would have seemed like a perfect chance to have two championship contenders out of the way.”

“Your logic makes sense, but… Can CADs even be tampered with? And if someone did, then when?”

“Are you saying there’s a traitor on Seventh High’s tech staff?”

Tatsuya shook his head slightly at Isori’s and Kanon’s questions. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any proof. Even if I told them to show me Seventh High’s CAD, they’d kick me out, and I know that. But there was a chance for it to be tampered with.”

“From a traitor, right?” Kanon’s guess made Tatsuya once again shake his head, this time slowly.

“I can’t deny the possibility entirely, but… I think there’s a high probability a spy is in the tournament committee.”

The conversation stopped dead.

Even Isori, Kanon, and Mikihiko were speechless this time. Each wore similar expressions of utter disbelief.

“…But, Tatsuya, if there was a spy in the tournament committee, when and how on earth would they have tampered with the CAD? The competition CADs should be safely stored away by each school.”

But the option of doubting Tatsuya didn’t exist for Miyuki. She took what her brother said as concrete fact and asked for further deductions.

Tatsuya’s answer in reply wasn’t a direct one, but a declaration of well-known facts. “CADs always leave the hands of the schools one time—when they’re handed over to the tournament committee for inspection.”

“Oh…!” exclaimed Miyuki at the possibility she’d forgotten about. She was the only one even able to get a voice out—Isori, Kanon, Mikihiko, and Mizuki were all just standing there dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand how they did it, though. That’s the real problem…”

It might have been the worst-case scenario, but they couldn’t let their guards down. That fact was burned deeply into Tatsuya’s mind, since Miyuki was waiting to play in her matches, and he was the one in charge of her CAD’s adjustments.

First High’s third day of the competition saw them winning men’s and women’s Ice Pillars Break, taking second in men’s Battle Board, and third in women’s Battle Board.

Third High got second place in men’s and women’s Ice Pillars Break and won both men’s and women’s Battle Board. Because of their good results, their points were even closer to First High’s than yesterday.

Before the tournament began, Mari had told Tatsuya the rookie competition points wouldn’t affect the overall rankings very much, but it looked as though her prediction had been untrue.

Currently, Tatsuya was doing an elaborate check of the CADs his assigned competitors would be using to prepare for the rookie competition that started tomorrow. As he worked, he received a summons from Mayumi on his terminal.

He paused his work, confused as to why she was calling him out so late at night. When he took a walk down to First High’s assigned meeting room, he unexpectedly ran into Miyuki in front of the door.

“Did the president call you here, too, Miyuki?”

“Yes—and you, too, I suppose?”

Tatsuya had assumed he’d been called down to discuss the possible sabotage he’d gone over with Isori and the others as well as to think of a technical countermeasure. Miyuki wouldn’t need to be here as well in that case, though.

“Well, let’s go in.”

“Yes.”

Sometimes you had to think about things, but other times thinking would do you no good. And if it was a case of the latter, you had to act. Like the ancients said: Poor ideas are worse than none at all.

“Excuse us.”

It wasn’t that dense a topic—and it wasn’t as if much was riding on such profound logic. It did save him some pointless worrying, at least, as he opened the door.

Inside were Mayumi, Suzune, Katsuto…and Mari, who should have still been in bed.

“Good work today. Are you finished preparing for tomorrow?”

“No, it’ll take a little longer.”

“Oh… I’m sorry for calling even Tatsuya away from his work.” Mayumi’s apologetic words clued him in to the fact that Miyuki was the main topic here. “You can sit down if you want.”

The siblings took their seats next to each other as Mayumi indicated.

“I had something I wanted to talk about… Well, no, I needed to talk about. I had you come here because I have something important to discuss with the two of you.” It felt like a while had gone by since she last acted this formally to them, and it felt kind of refreshing to Tatsuya. “Rin, could you give them an explanation?”

She still called her Rin, though, thought Tatsuya as he looked at Suzune.

“I believe both of you know about today’s results.”

It was obviously rhetorical; she wasn’t expecting an answer. Tatsuya and Miyuki both nodded at the same time anyway.

“We had an accident, but our points at the end of the day are mostly as we’d calculated. However, Third High has more points than we predicted, so they have more hope to pull ahead than we thought initially.”

They nodded once again to demonstrate their understanding.

“Still, we have a decent lead, so as long as we can win the rookie competition and not let ourselves fall too far behind, we’ll be able to win overall by winning Monolith Code at the end. But in the worst-case scenario, if Third High gets a solid lead on us in the rookie competition, there’s a possibility of them turning the tables depending on their results in the main Mirage Bat event.”

This was all supposition—was she just trying to tell them to do their best in the rookie competition? They wouldn’t have needed to call them down just for that, though… Tatsuya cocked his head, still with a straight face.

“The main competition gives twice the points of the rookie one. I and the rest of the operations staff have arrived at the conclusion that we need to devote our strength to the main Mirage Bat event, even if that means sacrificing something during the rookie competition.”

Tatsuya’s eyebrows raised just a bit. He guessed what she was getting at by the “sacrificing” bit, and it made his straight face come undone.

“Yes, that’s right, Tatsuya.” Mayumi sharply picked up on his slight change in expression and answered his question before he asked it. “Miyuki, we’re having you compete in the main Mirage Bat event as Mari’s substitute. Tatsuya will continue to be your assigned engineer, so you will now be competing on the ninth day.”

Contrary to their claim at the beginning, Mayumi wasn’t trying to talk anything over with them. The decision had clearly already been made, and she was just informing them.

“However, there are students among the upperclassmen who are only entered into one event. Why would I be chosen to be a substitute when it means canceling my competing in the rookie competition?”

Miyuki’s voice was calm. She wasn’t ecstatic about her sudden selection; instead, she asked a question based in reasonable consideration and calm calculation.

After she asked, Mari seemed surprised, and even Katsuto seemed slightly taken aback.

“Because we estimate that way will result in more points.” The answer came riding in on Suzune’s even calmer voice. “We had no substitutes ready for Mirage Bat. That’s the main reason.”

Giving additional explanation was the original competitor, Mari. “Even students representing our school would find it unfair to be asked to fly around in the air in Mirage Bat without any advance preparation. People who have already practiced it beforehand would have a better chance than them, even if they were freshmen. Plus…”

She paused, probably on purpose. Tatsuya hadn’t initially thought she was this prone to theatrics.

“Tatsuya, your sister could win first place even in the main competition, couldn’t she?”

And then she came in with an attack at the weak point. Her reasoning felt sly, pushy even, but Tatsuya had no reason to be modest. “She could.”

“Tatsuya…”

Tatsuya spoke as though it were obvious—as though it was already a proven fact. Mari smirked, Katsuto nodded once, Mayumi’s eyes widened, Suzune’s eyebrows went up, and Miyuki looked down, embarrassment evident on her face.

“If she has been valued so highly, then I’ll do my best for her as an engineer. You can do it, right, Miyuki?”

“Y-yes!”

Her already beautiful back burst straight up as she responded to Tatsuya in a high-pitched, excited voice—and her answer said she would gladly take on the role as substitute.

To be continued