THE HONOR STUDENT’S EXTRACURRICULAR LESSON

Summer vacation was well into its second half now, and the First High campus lay dormant. The season’s biggest event, the Nine School Competition, was over, and the sports-related clubs had since shifted into independent training mode. There was still one more week until the new term began; clubs would restart their actual activities then, but none were scheduled now.

That wasn’t to say the campus was completely empty, of course. Though few, there were some students who came out for independent training.

Especially the freshmen. The training facilities were almost always reserved for upperclassmen, so for the freshmen, it was a chance to get full usage of them. Indeed, many freshman club members could be seen here in the closed-quarters battle practice area.

He ran, weaving in and out of the fat, sporadically placed rectangular columns.

Indoors, he couldn’t see very far, so it was essentially a labyrinth even though it had no walls. The lighting in some parts had been dimmed on purpose, and scrap materials were scattered underfoot to serve as obstacles.

But he couldn’t slow down—he was in the middle of a time trial. It was just independent training, but he wasn’t about to leave an unsightly record.

He came to a T-intersection in the forest of pillars.

A snap decision—the path on the right. Down that way waited an automatic gun emplacement.

Mostly out of reflex, he pointed the muzzle of the CAD he gripped in his right hand at it and pulled the trigger, activating a weighting spell tuned for competitive purposes.

The emplacement’s gravity sensors felt the weight, which caused it to stop.

A belated cold sweat broke out on his back. No time to think about it. He picked up his pace through the maze; he’d reflexively stopped his feet to fire, and he knew he had to recover the lost time. Slipping past the silenced emplacement, he followed the pillar to his left and turned to correct his course.

That exact moment—

—something sticky hit him from the side…

…and a buzzer sounded to announce it was over.

Feeling glum, Morisaki looked down at himself as the lights came back on the course. A red paintball had splashed against the right side of his combat-shooting club practice uniform.

The rubber paint had already dried. He probably could have torn it off anyway, but he’d have to use the remover in the prep room to get it off cleanly. He headed for the exit at a run, careful not to disturb the next person in line for the course.

At the sound of the door clattering open, the female student doing maintenance on a directed-shooting launcher blinked in surprise and turned around. (To explain, “directed shooting” was the name of a magic-based sport where a person fired a bullet using only magic, no gunpowder or compressed air, at a small target 2.54 centimeters—or 1 inch—across. The launchers used for directed shooting were shaped like rifles, with a CAD built into the stock and four long rails in place of the barrel, which held bullets inserted from four directions.)

“…Morisaki, you look frazzled,” said the girl, Kazumi Takigawa of Class 1-C, speaking to him in a worried tone as she stopped her work on the launcher.

“Takigawa…? Aren’t you in the D.S. club? What are you doing here?” Of course, D.S. was short for “directed-shooting club.”

“Wow. How’s that for a hello?” she sniped back.

In the end, Morisaki’s reply was, as Takigawa had discerned, not a very pleasant “greeting.”

“I came to get some of your built-in CAD parts,” she explained. “I got permission from your president, so I don’t think you have any right to treat me like a suspicious person.”

“Hmph… Can’t even manage your own inventory, I see.”

“Gee, sorry. Just so you know, it’s a tradition among the shooting clubs to pool our extra parts. You wouldn’t know, since you only ever use your own CAD.”

Aside from the members of the student council and disciplinary committees, members of general clubs had to adjust the CADs belonging to their clubs for personal use. They were also equipped with restrictions on where it was possible to use them via a local positioning system, or LPS. Morisaki had joined the disciplinary committee right after entering school, and he’d been using his own CAD for all his club activities. There hadn’t been a chance for him to learn about the maintenance of club CADs.

Normally it would have been an airtight argument, but he snorted and turned his back to her. Ignoring Takigawa calling him a creep, he took a spray can from a locker on the wall and sprayed under his arm. The paint that was stuck to his side started peeling away, eventually rolling up into a ball before falling to the floor. Several other red clumps were strewn about the floor.

“Morisaki…how many times have you done this? Think you might be overdoing it a little? You should probably call it quits for today.”

“…Are you worried about me?” answered Morisaki sarcastically, wiping the sweat dripping from his brow and showing no signs of stopping.

“Well, of course.” Takigawa nodded seriously. “And don’t start with any creepy jokes about love. I can’t just sit by and watch while someone I know seems like they’re about to fall flat on the floor.”

“…I know that,” he said dismissively, looking away.

Takigawa continued. “Then give it up for today. Doing any more will just wear you down at this point. You won’t be satisfied with that.”

Morisaki shot her a glare, and she held it.

“…I know.”

The first one to look away was Morisaki. He said nothing more and disappeared into the boys’ locker room.

“I get why he’s in such a rush, but… Actually, I guess I don’t. Morisaki’s the same kind of boy as him, after all,” said Takigawa to herself as she watched him leave.

He took off his club gear and replaced it with his regular uniform, consisting of shirt and slacks. As he was about to put his arms through his summer blazer, the emblem embroidered on the left breast pocket caught his eye.

—Four months ago, he’d been proud of this emblem.

—But sometimes, especially lately, it was strangely irritating.

Now was one of those times. An unclear irritation was eating away at his mind. Or maybe it would be more apt to say he was letting its identity remain unclear.

Morisaki decided not to put on the jacket, instead slinging it over his shoulder and leaving the locker room. When he looked up, he squinted against the strong sunlight pouring down.

He didn’t need Takigawa to tell him; Morisaki knew he was being impatient. But he also knew that if she hadn’t said it so firmly, he probably would still be wasting time with fruitless training. The next time he saw her, he’d have to treat her to an ice cream or something.

Even the wounds he’d sustained during the Nine School Competition, which had been diagnosed as needing over a month to heal normally, had been perfectly mended by magical healing. But his body had dulled during his weeklong stay at the hospital, and it wasn’t completely back to normal yet. At least, not by his standards.

And there was one more thing.

He felt like his experience on the grand competition stage hadn’t helped his magical talents grow. In fact, he felt less skilled than before the vacation…

The notion had built a little nest in his heart. His mind knew that wasn’t a good thing, but he couldn’t seem to clamp down on his impatience.

The teachers aren’t even here…

The personalized instruction from teachers, the special privilege of Course 1 students, didn’t mean much when the teachers weren’t at school. Not only Morisaki, but the rest of the Nine School Competition athletes, wouldn’t be receiving extra help during summer vacation, and they could only make appointments here until next week. The library was always there for self-studying theory, but he wanted to polish his practical skills now. He didn’t need anything crazy like real battle experience.

Right now, the only thing he wanted to do was get better at casting magic.

When most people thought of the Morisaki family, they thought of their quick-draw.

The family wasn’t one of the Numbers, just a branch family, and even compared to the Hundred Families their magical abilities were rated as average. But when it came to their one very specific talent, some said they were as good as the main Numbers families.

What kind of technique was quick-draw?

Nothing outlandish, actually. Quick-draw was simply that—rapidly drawing a gun and firing. Its purpose was to activate a spell as quickly as possible using a CAD. In a little more detail, the idea was to quickly activate a CAD from a non-combat stance, speed through the activation processing, and disable an opponent before they could activate their own spell.

The user’s spell power was secondary. The difficulty level didn’t matter, either. The spell could be a weak one, but even a weak one could disable an opponent if you attacked first.

The implementation of CADs had brought about a speed-up in the magic activation process, and this technique was an extension of the ideas behind that: develop and improve CAD efficiency.

Because the technique stressed speed, a greater importance was placed on specialized CADs than multipurpose ones. Specialized CADs were mainly shaped like handguns, so the technique had been born from positioning the body to efficiently draw and activate a handgun-shaped device. This was where the name quick-draw was derived.

The original technique had a side effect nobody had expected at first. The whole point was that you activated a spell more quickly than an opponent—from an unarmed state in which your CAD wasn’t in your hand—and took them down first. It was an ideal skill for Japanese bodyguards to have, since they were required to carry their weapons concealed. Bodyguards like the United States Secret Service would instead flaunt their weapons as a feint against assailants. Japanese security details, however, were ordered to keep their weapons out of sight so they wouldn’t pressure their clients or other related persons.

Because of this technical characteristic, the members of the Morisaki family were frequently hired as bodyguards, their clientele mainly consisting of wealthy private citizens who could not expect the public authorities to provide protection at all times. The family’s main business was still modern magic research, but this side job, the bodyguard-dispatching security company, was famous enough for society to treat it as more important.

Shun Morisaki, the only son of the main Morisaki family (in the sense that he had no brothers) had been helping out in the bodyguard business for two years now. They made full use of his boyish appearance, since it lowered the guards of unsuspecting people. His family didn’t use him as the main bodyguard, where he would need to act as a physical shield for the client, but rather as a backup, so he could keep an eye on the surroundings and work to stop attacks from happening.

But even though the family business (or side business, rather) frequently came running to him for assistance without a care for his convenience during busy times, they hadn’t called him for anything at all lately. Morisaki didn’t want simple practice; he wanted an honest mechanism (real combat) to feel his significance. But there were no orders for him today, either.

After taking off his uniform, he locked eyes with the boy in the mirror, irritation clear in his expression.

But there was nothing there but his own face.

Takigawa’s warning echoed in his head.

He could feel that his mind was in a pretty bad state right now. He forced his impatience back down, telling himself he needed a change of pace while he was still listening to others, then took his hand away from his training gear and changed into more casual street clothes.

His afternoon outing had been on a whim, but if he’d opened his address book, he probably would have quickly found four or five people to meet up with.

Yet Morisaki decided to wander the streets by himself.

With his small CAD tucked safely away in a holster hidden inside his open vest and a few miscellaneous things thrown into a single-strap bag, he climbed into a cab headed for the city.

He’d chosen his destination, Ariake, purely on a whim. He didn’t have anything to do there, nor did he particularly enjoy the place. If he had to say why, it was because Ariake wasn’t too noisy, but had just enough clamor to be lively. It made you want to idle your time away there.

Though the area had many parks, it wasn’t just for kids. Still, on a weekday afternoon like this, school-aged boys and girls possessing something called “summer vacation” stood out among the rest. The greater portion of them wore clothing that competed for skin exposure, which was fitting for the season.

That felt fresh to Morisaki. At school, even during summer break, students would wear the uniforms designated by school rules. The boys wore long sleeves, while the girls wore leggings under their skirts. And both had to wear some sort of outerwear. Training clothes were long-sleeved and reached down to the ankles as well. Their swimwear was no different—girls wore athletic bathing suits that covered everything up to their necks.

Here, though, tank tops and tube tops weren’t uncommon. Bare feet in sandals were a given, and even the miniskirts and short shorts that only bothered to cover the bare minimum fit the occasion.

Morisaki himself was wearing a patterned short-sleeved shirt with two buttons undone in a rough style. But on top of that, he wore an open vest to hide his CAD. That seemed to be the most out of place of all.

The kids walking around didn’t have CADs. For a while now, he hadn’t seen any boys wearing jackets or vests to hide something in, nor any girls wearing broad bracelets.

There were no magicians in sight at all, since some time ago.

It made Morisaki belatedly feel the objective truth—he was part of an absolute minority.

And then, suddenly, he felt a bit acerbic.

…I’ve been sweating a lot since this morning…

Deciding the lack of moisture was getting to him, he spied the open terrace of a café. Without thinking anything, as if to reject the very act of thinking or doubting, he walked toward the first café in sight.

It wasn’t very big inside the café, and all the seats were taken. Without any other choice, he sat down on the terrace, where the only thing blocking the sun’s rays was a parasol. Outdoor air conditioners weren’t uncommon these days, but this store didn’t have one. Given the log cabin–style exterior and the plain wooden chairs and tables, the store’s owner probably liked the down-to-earth feel.

There was a certain demand for ostensibly stylish cafés such as this, but demand changed depending on the season. As proof of that, almost none of the seats out here were filled.

Morisaki took a seat near the side of the terrace and stared idly at a group of kids walking around with iced coffees in one hand. It seemed like most of the people out here walking were boys and girls his age. And half of them were couples, with 90 percent of the rest in groups. Not even 10 percent of that remaining half were lone wolves like him (though he felt less like a lone wolf and more like a one-man army).

As he people-watched, and the sense of being on the wrong side ate at him, he suddenly caught sight of a certain girl.

She was alone, like him—and actually, lone girls were probably far rarer than boys. She wore a high-necked sleeveless shirt, a knee-length pleated skirt, and sandals. Her fashion sense was something between showy and boring.

But her appearance couldn’t be called normal.

Eight out of ten people—nine out of ten, if they were men—would have rated her as “pretty” or “beautiful.”

She wore her hair in one long ponytail hanging over her left shoulder, and it was so long that if undone it would reach her waist. Her eyes were large and slanted slightly upward, and her movements were graceful and completely devoid of waste. They gave her the appearance of a large feline—and not a tiger or a lion, but a panther.

Her face looked clearly Asian, but her skin color was whiter, like a Caucasian’s. So maybe she was more like a snow leopard than a panther. (Though in reality, snow leopards had gray skin, not white.)

Furthermore, she appeared to be two or three years older than him.

Her appearance certainly stood out, but in terms of prominence, there were plenty of other girls with more showy clothing on. Morisaki had spotted her because of her outward appearance, but what kept his eyes glued to her was something else.

She’s…a magician, isn’t she?

Still, she didn’t wear the most common bracelet-shaped CAD. She had a handbag, so she might have been carrying around a portable terminal type, but he wouldn’t be able to tell from here if it wasn’t turned on.

There was nothing about her outward appearance that would pin her as a magician. But Morisaki instinctively felt she was related to magic.

Without noticing Morisaki’s eyes, or else not caring about them, she passed by the café where he sat on the terrace. He followed her with his eyes as she walked away, and then he noticed other eyes tracing her in the same way.

Not to hit on her.

His instincts started blaring—the ones he’d honed during his job as backup, helping his family.

The gazes clinging to her harbored a hostile malevolence.

After using the tabletop terminal to pay, he stood up, acting naturally.

The reason he followed the girl wasn’t due to any deep thoughts he had. His career hadn’t been long enough yet to chalk it up to an occupational disease, but that was the closest way to describe it. To point out another thing rather bluntly, the fact that the girl was such an attractive (young) beauty was another thing influencing his actions.

The girl (who looked a bit too old to be called that) was headed away from the park areas and toward the warehouse district. Did she have something to do there?

Morisaki, following carefully from a distance, noticed that there were fewer and fewer people passing by. The parks and recreational facilities were in the other direction, but passers-by were decreasing far too quickly to be chalked up to mere coincidence.

Something unnatural was at work—something literally not of nature.

He didn’t know much about old magic, but he thought he remembered hearing about techniques in Taoism or Onmyoudo that acted upon a person’s unconscious to cause them not to approach a specific area.

That meant that this was the work of a magician. The girl had shown no signs of using magic since he’d first seen her, so he guessed that someone other than her was magically drawing eyes away from her.

What was their motive? It certainly couldn’t have been because someone was too embarrassed to confess their love for her.

Kidnapping, robbery, or…sexual assault.

Given the time of day, he wouldn’t have thought of the possibility of assassination, but whatever it was, he decided it was something bad.

The next question was how many of them there were. Their spell was affecting a pretty large area, so it wasn’t just one or two. As long as he didn’t know how powerful they were, it would be foolish to take them head-on. Instead, as soon as these “enemies” made a move, he would temporarily disable them with a surprise attack from the flank and use the chance to get the girl out of there.

That was the course of action Morisaki decided on.

However, the situation developed much more quickly than he’d anticipated.

He had been under the impression that the thieves—he’d decided they were thieves—would only make a move after they entered a warehouse area where nobody could see them. No matter how few people were around now, the main roads still had surveillance cameras. He’d thought that once they realized the girl was headed for the (second) Rainbow Bridge, it would throw off their expectations.

Unfortunately, the very moment the last cars and pedestrians disappeared, the watchers of the girl manifested as figures surrounding her.

“H-hey, who are you?!” shouted the girl at the silently approaching men.

Her response could have been called a courageous one. In her position, even a man would have drawn back out of fear of the unknown, unable to speak freely, and the situation wouldn’t have been strange.

But considering that she hadn’t noticed that all the people around her had disappeared, the spell must have affected her as well.

After first making sure the girl hadn’t panicked—if she had, he would have needed to change his plan—Morisaki readied his CAD from the shadow of one of the trees on the roadside. Surprise attacks from the shadows weren’t part of his family’s special skills, but as someone who had worked guard duty as a backup, others would have seen him as more of a sneak attack than a quick-draw anyway.

Six thieves.

If he didn’t want to let any harm befall the girl, he would have to deal with them all quickly.

A bead of sweat dripped down his temple.

Morisaki forced himself to calm his suddenly shallow, rough breathing, and then he leaped out from under the tree.

He charged toward the girl, pulling the trigger twice. When he saw the men reach into their jackets, he flung himself forward and pulled again in midair. As he rolled onto the road, he pulled again. Then again as he stood up.

Given the nature of their roles as bodyguard—which, though a side job, was still a profession—the Morisaki family had developed spells that would disable opponents in one strike without dealing a great deal damage.

With a two-process acceleration spell that switched in an instant from applying backward acceleration to forward acceleration to cancel itself out, the spell shook the target’s innards. Especially the brain. The five men fell, one after the other. The sixth man, however, tried to aim for Morisaki, and he felt his heart pound.

It was a suppressor—and the barrel of a gun.

Not a CAD.

A gun with live rounds. An automatic handgun.

Morisaki had expected a magic-based counterattack. He hadn’t thought there’d be a gun. They were already using magic, so he’d let himself believe they’d attack with magic, too. He had defenses set up against magic, but not against physical bullets.

Whether he wanted to stop the bullet or move himself out of the way, a spell wouldn’t make it in time.

He put strength into his legs, trying to somehow get out of the line of fire. But before his muscles could process his mental command to jump, the particularly dull sound of a gun firing with a silencer rang out.

The muzzle had aimed away from him.

The girl had rushed up next to the man and grabbed the hand firing the gun.

Morisaki pulled his CAD’s trigger. The sixth man collapsed, and the girl sank to the road, pulled down with him.

Morisaki ran over to the girl.

“Can you stand?” he asked, not waiting for a reply before taking her hand. “We should get away from here quickly. Let’s get to the station for now. I think they’re afraid of witnesses.”

The girl really was made of stern stuff. Despite being attacked moments ago, she wasn’t beginning to cry nor fall into hysterics. Instead, she nodded at Morisaki’s suggestion, grabbed his hand, and stood up.

“This way.”

“Thank you,” said the girl, her hand in his, as they ran for the station.

At first, Morisaki didn’t think she’d be able to run properly in high-heeled sandals, but she didn’t slow him down at all. In fact, she ran alongside him (though he was going at a slower pace for her.)

She didn’t try to pull her hand away.

The softness of the girl’s small hand lit a fire, so to speak, in Morisaki’s sense of chivalry.

Upon arriving at the station, Morisaki suggested leaving Ariake, but the girl shook her head. “I’m meeting someone here.”

“Then you could send them a text…”

“I…can’t, really. It’s not possible for me to contact from my end,” she said with big eyes, giving a concerned smile.

Morisaki couldn’t help but be flustered at that enchanting face.

“Thank you so much for saving me.” Luckily, the girl pretended not to notice his reddened expression.

Her considerations were a bit different from people the same age as him, but it was more than agreeable to him.

And then the sense of duty—or whatever it was—that he felt toward this young, beautiful girl swelled inside him even more.

Which meant that the next words weren’t what he wanted to hear, and he had a hard time accepting them:

“But I’ll be fine from now on. I would like to thank you at a later date…somehow. Maybe you could give me your contact information?”

At that point, Oh no visibly crossed the girl’s face.

Morisaki tensed, wondering what the problem was, but a moment later, she smiled bashfully, causing a different sort of tension to run through him. “Oh, sorry. My name is Rin Richardson. I go to college in California, and I’m on vacation right now. You can call me Rin.”

“I’m Shun Morisaki.” The fact that his voice didn’t crack as he told her his name gave him no end of relief. “And I don’t need any thanks. Back there, well, you saved me in a bad spot, too. More important…”

Morisaki worked up his sense of duty to change gears and drive away his giddiness (though that duty itself was, when put nicely, spurred by a rather romanticist sentiment). If the enemy had numerical superiority, it wouldn’t be a smart idea to hang around close to where she was attacked. This wasn’t the sort of situation where they could be chatting so casually.

“It doesn’t seem like that will be the end of it. Do you have any idea why they attacked you?”

If they couldn’t take the most appropriate option and flee, he wanted information so he could formulate a plan to intercept any opposition. Who was their enemy? When would allies arrive? How much could he learn? Not intruding on a client’s private affairs was a crucial mind-set for a bodyguard, but if the information was necessary to keep her safe, it was a different story.

“I’m sorry. There are reasons, but…”

And even if he couldn’t get enough information, that didn’t mean he couldn’t fully carry out his guardian role. “I see… All right, I understand. I won’t ask after your circumstances. In exchange, would you allow me to serve as your bodyguard until the other party arrives?”

Rin’s eyes widened at Morisaki’s offer. “…Why?”

“In this country, we have a saying that goes, ‘Even a chance acquaintance is decreed by fate.’”

“I know that much, at least,” said Rin, sounding rather annoyed.

“I see. Excuse me…” apologized Morisaki awkwardly. But he couldn’t keep quailing at her forever, either. “It may have been a coincidence, but I happened to be present at the place you were almost kidnapped. That’s certainly some kind of fate.”

Morisaki didn’t know exactly why he was being so stubborn about it. Rin’s intentions were clear: She hadn’t outright rejected his offer, but she didn’t want to get him tangled up in her problems any further, either. And yet, he still didn’t feel like backing down at the moment.

However, the kidnapping part was Morisaki’s subjective opinion in the first place. It could have just been that Rin ran away from home, and her parents had requested that those men bring her back. Even if he was right about them being kidnappers, maybe the girl was involved in some great crime and those men were the organization on the other side. Maybe they were trying to bring back a runaway member of their group. But whatever the case was, people who would open fire at someone in broad daylight without any warning shots couldn’t possibly have been anything but villains. That was Morisaki’s conclusion—or decision, anyway.

“…You know now that this is dangerous, right?” she said. “You don’t seem like someone who can’t tell the difference between games and reality.”

Rin’s exasperated look wasn’t enough to cool down Morisaki’s enthusiasm. These people were criminals targeting an unarmed frail girl. It was pretty clear whose side he should take. Clear to him, anyway.

“You’re in more danger than I am, Ms. Rin. Our country’s police force is excellent, and I don’t say that to brag. But that doesn’t mean crime is nonexistent. We don’t have nearly enough officers, especially ones who can respond to magical crimes.”

“It’s the same in every other country, you know,” said Rin wryly.

Morisaki wasn’t fazed. “Therefore, I believe you’re in need of a bodyguard.”

“…You’d be my bodyguard?” she asked, again teasingly.

He nodded, completely serious. “I may look young, but I’ve been doing it for two years now.”

“…Morisaki, you look like you’re in high school.”

“I’m a freshman at the National Magic University Affiliated First High School. But my family are the ones who own the bodyguard dispatch business.”

“Oh… Morisaki, as in a member of that Morisaki family.”

Rin hadn’t been taking him seriously until now. Half of what she heard had gone right past her. Now, though, she finally nodded, apparently convinced. At the same time, it meant she was a person of standing who was familiar with the personal bodyguard industry.

“But I don’t have anything on hand to reward you with.”

“I’m not doing this as a part of my job. I just didn’t want to pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re quite the gentleman,” giggled Rin. Morisaki looked away, embarrassed. She composed her expression and looked him in the eye. “…All right. If you’re that worried, then I suppose I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“…Please leave it to me,” he said, nodding proudly.

“Then I know it’s sudden, but I have a request. Is that okay?”

“What is it?”

Safety details weren’t butlers. But building a healthy relationship with the client was important for completing his mission smoothly. As long as the requests weren’t impossible, or caused difficulties for the escort, they were required to comply with their client’s wishes. That was one of the first things in the bodyguard manual, whether in the East or the West—though perhaps the eastern side was a bit different.

“Call me Rin from now on. If you call me Ms. Rin again, you’ll be on your way, okay?”

“…Does that mean you’re not a magician, Rin?”

“Yes. I’m not sure why you thought I was, Shun, but…”

Rin smiled, her face confused. In contrast to Morisaki, who was endeavoring to open up to her but still maintained a stiff formality, Rin casually called him Shun as though they were already friends. Was she so composed because she was older?

He stole a glance at her face. She was pretty. Normally, people looked significantly better when watched from afar. But in her case, she was charming even seen close-up—perhaps even more so. It was probably thanks to her vivid expressions. She never wore the same face twice. At least, that’s the answer Morisaki came up with based on his lacking experience.

“Oh! Maybe it was this thing’s fault,” she said, pulling a pendant out of her clothes and showing it to him. The glimpse of the soft-looking curves on her chest through her unbuttoned shirt raised Morisaki’s heart rate. His increased blood flow should have been reflected in his facial color, but thankfully, Rin’s expression made it seem like she didn’t notice at all.

“What is it?”

“A magic item.”

“A what?”

“A magic item. You wear it to keep people away. They made it back when premeditated kidnappings were a big problem. It’s a charm that protects you from being seen by bad people… Yes, it’s a real thing.”

Modern magic was the researched and systematized form of old magic. Though he’d never seen one, he knew that of the objects referred to as “magic items,” more than a few actually did possess magical effects. But at the same time, the fact was that fakes—no more than simple accessories—were hundreds of times more common than the real things. Earnest, young modern magicians like him had a tendency to get suspicious whenever terms like magic item were thrown around.

Still, Morisaki didn’t feel like doubting Rin’s words at the moment. Her smile drove away the suspicion he felt and lifted his cynical attitude. But then a different doubt came to him in its place. “You’re not a magician, but you have a magic item?” he asked, his face serious.

Rin looked a little flustered. “Y-yeah. Someone I know gave it to me to keep stalkers away.”

“Stalkers…? Have you run across them in the past, too?”

“W-well, sort of.”

“Could the men before have been the same? Wait, I promised not to ask that. I apologize.” When she saw Morisaki back off meekly, Rin was secretly relieved.

“…Still,” he continued, “it didn’t seem to work against them.”

His attention had already moved to the attackers from a little while ago, and Rin appeared convinced by his sincerity. “…It didn’t work against you, either, so maybe it doesn’t apply to magicians?”

Her question bended the flow of conversation toward a direction different from the one Morisaki had expected. Normally, he would have stuck out his chest and nodded. He considered himself special. He was proud of being a magician, and confident he was particularly excellent even among those in the same grade. The Nine School Competition had ended with unfortunate results, but without that cowardly rule violation, he knew he could have gotten the same results without having to borrow the skills of that impudent trickster.

But for some reason, he found himself unable to nod. “…We’re not that different. Magic is technology humans made. Your magic item is essentially a magician’s spell—they both allow the person to use magical powers.”

“Yeah… You know, you’re right. Magicians and us are both people, huh?”

She clearly didn’t realize that her words betrayed the fact that she thought of magicians and non-magicians as different kinds of people.

Fortunately, neither did Morisaki.

As a result of Morisaki stressing that they should avoid underpopulated places, the two decided to spend their time waiting for a message from Rin’s contact in a restaurant by the front of the station. She did nearly all the talking, and he was mostly nodding along and agreeing with her. Neither of them seemed bored at all, though.

As Morisaki had hoped, they’d seen no further signs of suspicious persons. By chance, however, he did feel some presence observing them from afar.

Then, suddenly, Rin’s face tensed up. Morisaki gave her a questioning look as she took out an information terminal.

She must have gotten a message from the person she was meeting up with. But tensing up instead of looking relieved at the person’s contact… Morisaki wasn’t sure quite how to interpret that. Maybe the person, or people, she was meeting up with was Rin’s actual enemy. He wished she’d at least tell—confess that—to him.

“Directly under the Rainbow Bridge,” said Rin, stone-faced. “They said they’ll get a boat there.”

“…Then let’s get going.”

“Under the Rainbow Bridge” probably referred to the plaza constructed next to the bridge abutments. Even on weekdays there were always tourists there. When Morisaki suggested they leave, he reached for the tabletop terminal.

But when his hand got within a literal hair’s breadth from it, Rin held a card up to the terminal.

“Trying to pay for an older woman’s meal? Pre-tty-chee-ky for a high schooler.” She poked him in the forehead with her index finger as he blushed. Her face, which had been tense mere moments ago, wore a relaxed smile.

The distance would be shorter if they walked down main roads, but Morisaki purposely chose winding, twisting park routes. He had decided that the spell from before, which had prevented pedestrians and vehicles alike from coming near, would be less effective in parks where people mostly stayed in one place, rather than avenues, where they were naturally on the move and passing through.

It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to be with Rin for longer. Not consciously, at least.

He’d made her put the pendant in her purse. Averting other people’s attention would have the opposite effect from what they wanted at the moment.

The idea had been theoretically correct—but unfortunately, it had invited some unexpected trouble.

There was a wall of people in front of them now. All were young men around Rin’s age. They were packed in tightly, like pro soccer players trying to block a free kick. Unfortunately, their clothing, countenances, and other features were as far as they could be from any sort of bracing sportsmanship. Frankly speaking, they didn’t look very respectable.

There were small differences, but they each wore essentially the same thing. The most common outfit consisted of a vest made from shiny fabric, metal rings around the wrists, below the elbows, and above the elbows.

The vests’ surfaces, which looked like lizard scales, were metal-skins, a material that had brought in a minor-league fad about three years back. The synthetic resin boasted defense and shock absorption that was leaps and bounds more advanced than the bulletproof, stab-proof synthetic fibers of yesteryear. However, it was a defective product—its lack of breathability meant that you’d sweat wearing one even in a heated room in wintertime, nevermind outdoors in summertime. Even sleeveless vests were still seen as too hot, and most young men who wore them never zipped them up in the front. Of course, that would make them useless as protection against stabs or gunshots from the front. In other words, it was nothing more than a fashion statement.

The metal rings around their arms were muscle amplifiers using EMSs, short for electronic muscle stimulators. EMSs had been used in training devices going back to the 1960s, so it was old technology. In modern times, however, they had succeeded in raising the contraction rate of muscle tissue by using feedback from the muscles’ own electrical current. They had originally been medical tools used for rehabilitation, but they could easily raise the force of a punch, so they were popular among lazy street fighters.

A few of the young men had donned fitted AR goggles over their eyes as well. Judging from the image sensors affixed along the metal bands holding the goggles up, they probably had an optical search application installed. The app would inform them, via arrow, if something had come within a certain distance, but most amateurs couldn’t make much use of it. This, too, was just a fashion statement.

Their martial (?) style, with its emphasis on appearance, was characteristic of a group of delinquents who called themselves “the Warriors.”

Each of the young men in front of them sported a smirk.

None said a word.

Morisaki put his arm around Rin’s shoulder and tried to go back the way they’d come.

He heard several crude whistles. Then, in unexpectedly coordinated movements, the human wall morphed into a circular enclosure, fencing them in.

“…We’re in a hurry. Please let us through.”

“What’s the rush? I’m sure you’ve got time to play with us.”

“Yeah, that’s right! We know way more fun things to do than that kid does.”

Rin’s attempt at a peaceful resolution was met with offensive coaxing as the ring closed further.

“We really are in a…”

“It’s no use,” interrupted Morisaki as she tried again. “They weren’t going to listen in the first place.”

“Whoa, that stings!”

“He’s right, though. We didn’t come here to talk.”

“Gya-ha-ha-ha!” came rude laughter.

“You learn pretty fast, dick.”

“We’ll take things from here. You can go home now. Scratch that—we’re gonna make you!”

…That one must have been the leader of these Warriors. The young man who was at the back of the wall—now directly in front of the two of them—flipped his tone from a friendly one to a threatening one.

He was a head taller than Morisaki. His T-shirt looked like the sleeves had been ripped off, and the arms coming out of it were rolling with thick muscles. There was silver paint from the backs of his hands up to his shoulders, crawling up in a geometric fashion. This was for the same purpose as the muscle amplifiers—to quicken muscle contraction (though its effects were questionable). And with his lean abs and full thighs, his body clearly wasn’t that of an amateur.

Confronted with a gaze that could only be called diabolical, Morisaki let a short, scornful chuckle leak out.

“What’s so funny…?” asked the young man, lowering his tone to sound even more threatening.

“Please, excuse me,” responded Morisaki, using polite words despite the ridiculing smile on his face. “Shibuya and Ikebukuro are one thing, but Ariake? I simply hadn’t expected to run into any endangered species like you here.”

“…You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“You’re satisfied now that you’ve gone through your posturing, right? We really are in a hurry. Would you let us pass, please?”

“…Guess you really do wanna get hurt, eh?”

Upon seeing the young man shift his weight to his toes, Morisaki pulled his right shoulder back a little. His open vest swayed a bit—

“Hawk, the kid’s a magician!”

—And in so doing, one of them caught a glimpse of the grip of his CAD, poking out of its hidden holster.

The young man to Morisaki’s right had been the one to make the warning outburst. The boys surrounding them froze, then withdrew, each of them cringing away—save for one.

“Grow a pair already!” shouted the only exception—the leader named Hawk—spurring the rest on. “I know all about you magicians.” He deliberately looked down at Morisaki, lips twisting into a smile.

It didn’t seem like he was all bark. In fact, he might have deserved to be called “not bad.” “Magic works like guns, don’t it? They’ll put you away if you use it on someone unarmed.”

Morisaki silently returned his stare.

Now with more fuel added to the fire, the young miscreant continued belting out insults. “And magicians who can’t use magic are good for nothing. I see right through your bluff, you little shit.”

As the young man burst out with another stupid-sounding gya-ha-ha, Morisaki looked up at him with a cruel smile. “Are you testing me, endangered species?”

“…What was that?”

“I’m asking if you want to know whether we magicians really are good for nothing without magic. Or are you all bark and no bite?”

“Hah…? Hmm. Hey, no one else lay a hand on him.”

The leader of the endangered species calling themselves Warriors changed his stupid-looking confused face back to his normal twisted expression (and still looked ugly), then raised his hands, opened his stance, and bent a bit at the waist. It was a half stance.

Morisaki suppressed a low, ridiculing laugh of his own, dropping his bag from his shoulder. He clenched his fists in front of his face and took a few quick steps forward.

“Let’s do this, good-for-nothing.”

“Bring it on, you toothless mutt. But don’t even try laying a finger on the girl. If you do, I’ll make you all wish you’d never been born.”

“Big words for such a little shit. Come on!”

That signaled the start of the battle.

A high, bending kick flew at Morisaki’s face. He was protecting Rin behind him, so he couldn’t retreat from it. Instead, he ducked, slipping under the roundhouse. Hawk’s foot stopped as it flew through the air, sharply changing course to come down on Morisaki’s head.

A hook kick—no, an axe kick.

Morisaki brought his body up toward the kicking foot, then twisted slightly to avoid the strike.

His opponent’s face paled. As soon as the man brought down his foot, he started throwing out quick, backhanded jabs. Morisaki parried them with one hand.

A push kick, a middle jab, a low kick, a middle kick, a leg sweep, a sideways elbow… His speedy chain of hits indicated that the young leader was certainly not all bark. This wasn’t something he’d learned out of imitation—it had the look of specialized instruction, likely a type of full-contact karate.

But Morisaki dodged and parried every blow.

Hawk started to show irritation. He threw out a wide, long hook at Morisaki’s jaw, meant to take him down in one shot.

Morisaki didn’t let the chance go. He stepped in and threw a left jab at his adversary’s face. Except the force behind it was equal to a follow-up left straight. It had such power that an untrained fist would have hurt itself in the process, but Morisaki didn’t seem to be bothered by it one bit. His opponent’s knees gave way, and Morisaki came out with a tightly formed, palm-heel strike.

Hawk staggered back and crumpled to the ground. He looked baffled—this tiny kid had taken him down in just two strikes.

His expression said he couldn’t believe it. Morisaki looked down at the older boy and taunted him, laughing. “You’re slow. Too slow. That kind of speed might be enough for street fights, but it’s not going to work against magicians in a real battle.”

His opponent probably didn’t understand what he’d just declared. Magicians were completely reliant on their underhanded power, their magic. He couldn’t seem to accept the reality before him: that someone had surpassed all the close-combat training he’d done.

Acceleration magic: one of the eight types. It didn’t have to be used to accelerate or decelerate a target; you could use it to accelerate yourself, too. Magicians who used self-acceleration spells experienced the very limit of the velocity their senses could process every day—speed impossible for those who couldn’t use magic. It was analogous to experiencing the speed a professional racer experienced on the circuit at school, outside school on training grounds, in matches, and in real combat. For Morisaki’s overclocked awareness, the slightly fast speed of an amateur martial artist was nothing more than slow motion for him.

The bodyguard picked up his bag and took Rin’s hand. He had no intention of going along with the members of this endangered species who refused to accept reality. And while this wasn’t a very big loss of time, it was still no doubt a detour.

But then Rin batted his hand away.

He stared at her face, dumbfounded. His thoughts froze and his limbs ground to a halt.

When they saw Morisaki lock up, the young men reached out—not for him, but for Rin. One grabbed her hand, then brought her to him, sticking a knife up to her face—this was probably planned. But this act by the cornered rats gave him a setback now that they held Rin.

Morisaki restarted his frozen mind, unconsciously and reflexively begining to move through a pattern ingrained in him.

With one flowing motion, he drew his CAD from his vest. By the time he leveled the muzzle, it was already out of suspended mode. Without even a fraction of a second’s hesitation, he triggered his spell.

The young men, their brains shaken in their skulls, collapsed to the road one after another. Some fell hard and started bleeding, but Morisaki’s conditioned reflex didn’t stop.

When he snapped out of it, the only ones standing were him and her.

And one other—the young man who had avoided being knocked out, still on his rear end. He didn’t look like he could stand. Hawk scrambled backward across the road.

Morisaki’s emotionless eyes—his senses hadn’t completely returned yet—stared daggers at him.

“Y-y-you monster! Stay away! Stay away from me!” Still sitting down, Hawk started fishing through his pockets, frantically throwing whatever he could find.

After seeing a still folded-up knife flung way off target, Morisaki once again reached a hand out to Rin.

This time, she took it.

Without a word, the two walked hand in hand as they made their way to the place where the boat was to arrive.

Nothing disturbed them on the way there. Numerous couples were in the plaza square by the water, which had been turned into a park. These outsiders would spare a glance for their peculiar display, only to then look away, interest quickly waning.

The small pier Rin and Morisaki stood on was a platform for watching the comings and goings of boats. The girl looked out to sea. Their hands had separated naturally.

“…Shun…” she said suddenly, after a long silence.

“What is it, Rin?”

She kept looking out to sea, not turning to him. “Do magicians all…like fighting?” she asked. She was unable to see Morisaki’s face, and she didn’t show him her own.

“Rin?”

“Do magicians like battle? Do they like hurting people? Do they like danger? Do they like showing off their special power that normal people don’t have?”

Her voice was steadily rising, and Morisaki could tell she was criticizing him. “…Are you angry?”

“I’m not angry! It just gets to me!”

Which means you’re angry, right? he thought to himself in a corner of his mind, but Morisaki couldn’t stay calm enough to put in the witty retort.

When Rin turned back, there were tears in her eyes.

“…We don’t enjoy fighting because we’re magicians,” he said. “As for hurting people—I, at least, don’t enjoy that.”

Her tearful expression stung. “Then why did you have to provoke those kids like that?!”

“They wouldn’t have responded to any attempt to talk things out!”

But Morisaki had his own reasoning, too. He didn’t believe that his actions had been wrong. They might not have been the best, but he was under the impression that he’d been skillful in dealing with the gang.

“Then you should have just run away! You didn’t have to rough them all up! Couldn’t you have just used a spell to get away?! And if you didn’t want to, then you could have called for help. It really doesn’t seem to me like fighting was the only answer.”

“That’s…” Morisaki started. He knew full well she had a point.

Still, though…

“You’re right. We might have been able to run away. But then they could have gotten even more of their friends and come after us. We don’t know if or when the men from before will attack again, either. We can’t take too many risks. If there’s a chance to remove enemies from the picture, then it’s necessary to do so.”

…He couldn’t yield on this.

“Why is fighting the only thing you can think about?! Why is whether someone’s an enemy or an ally the only thing on your mind?!”

“Magicians aren’t superheroes! We can’t deal with every single thing perfectly, like they do on TV!”

That was something the uncle closest to him in age had taught him when he had been initiated into the bodyguard business.

Magicians aren’t superhuman.

Magic isn’t a power that lets you do everything the way you want.

That’s why you can’t hesitate pulling the trigger.

Decide calmly who your enemies and allies are.

The incredible strength to protect one’s client, even while allowing the enemy a head start, an overwhelming power like what the Ten Master Clans were famous for… Unfortunately, the practitioners of the Morisaki—Shun Morisaki included—didn’t have that strength.

“—I’m not good enough to be able to go easy on my enemies.”

“Shun…”

The passion drained from Rin’s eyes as she watched Morisaki grimace. Her expression softened, and she took his hand.

“Rin…” he said, not meeting her gaze, though he let her have his hand. “Do you…think magicians are monsters, too? Do you think that wielding power beyond human understanding makes us beasts? Do you think we’re some kind of deus ex machina that can grant any wish no matter what…?”

“Shun…”

“Magicians… They’re people, too.”

“Shun, are you…scared of fighting?”

“…I am. It doesn’t matter if it’s a gun, a knife, a fist, or magic… I’m scared of them all.”

“Then why do you fight? You’re only in high school. Why are you doing such a dangerous job?”

“Well…that’s because I have the strength to…”

“Shun. I don’t think you have to do dangerous things just because you’re a magician—just because you have magic powers. If you’re scared, isn’t it okay to stop…? Magicians are just people, right?”

A visible jolt ran through Morisaki’s face. A ray of fear and a ray of hope wove together amid bewilderment. Rin regarded him with a watchful smile.

Given all the couples around, their behavior didn’t stand out very much. But in hindsight, they’d been too absorbed in their conversation.

Rin was the first to notice something was wrong.

“Shun…does something seem wrong to you?”

“Rin?”

“I feel like nobody’s looked this way for a while now…”

If one of his classmates had said that, Morisaki would have assumed they were being too self-conscious (save for a select few). But it was a different story when a girl as pretty as Rin was saying it. “Rin, you haven’t been using that pendant, right?”

“Huh? No…that’s why it’s strange. I’m not using it, but it feels the same as when I do…”

“Rin, excuse me for a moment.”

“Kya?!”

Morisaki abruptly embraced her. At the same time, he quickly scanned to the left and right. Even such a bold (in his opinion, at least) action didn’t draw the slightest bit of attention. Not even a glance.

He let her out of the hug and searched for any signs of magic. He couldn’t tell clearly, but he felt like there was a vague sort of air covering them up.

“What? What is it?”

“Keep quiet!”

Morisaki took off his bag, removed a thick bracelet from it, and put it on his left arm. Then he took out an empty holster and hung it from his right pants pocket. He’d abandoned any pretense of not standing out. He was prepared for action.

As if waiting for that, from out of nowhere came men wearing black suits, pants, and sunglasses, surrounding Morisaki and Rin in a semicircle. They looked like the urban legends about men in black had come to life.

Morisaki clenched his teeth. He should have realized they’d been using a mental interference spell.

…Leave the regrets for later! he berated himself.

One of the suits walked toward them. His eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, were directed not at Rin, but at Morisaki. “…We’re with the COIA,” he said, taking out a black leather card case. He opened it to show Morisaki.

Indeed, there was the emblem of the Cabinet Office Intelligence Agency—a special seal that changed color and pattern depending on the viewing angle. Morisaki, who knew the pattern had hypnotic effects, looked away immediately after verifying it.

The man’s lips turned up just slightly as he returned his ID card to his jacket. “We will take over providing protection for Ms. Richardson. This is a government matter now, so we must ask you to step away.”

He almost nodded to them without thinking, before realizing Rin was clinging tightly to the back of his vest. “Rin, are you going with them?”

She vehemently shook her head at the question. Then, she looked straight back into the man’s eyes—well, his sunglasses, to be specific.

“I refuse,” said Morisaki clearly.

“I believe I told you this is now official government business…”

“You’re guards, right? That means you can’t make her go with you against her will. Or would you happen to have a warrant? I don’t believe the COIA has the authority to make arrests.”

The man in black smiled meaningfully, as though to say he’d been bested, then looked to the side.

That was the signal.

Muzzles peeked out from their suit cuffs.

Morisaki wrapped his left arm around Rin’s waist, then reached over with his right hand to activate the bracelet CAD as he jumped for the water.

She let out a shriek. Her voice was overtaken, though, by the sound of compressed gas firing and a short needle piercing through the air.

The tranquilizer darts flew just over them as they dived.

In midair, Morisaki activated a movement spell. Their fall stopped right before they hit the water, then they jumped up to the next pier over. As they landed, he made Rin squat down; then, crouching himself, he put his bracelet into suspended mode. A moment later, Morisaki had already drawn his handgun-shaped CAD from his hidden holster.

He had seen eight enemies when they’d been surrounded, and two of them were magicians.

He made himself forget about where they were from. All he thought about was protecting the girl behind him. The option to run didn’t even come to mind. His fear of fighting had vanished, and he had no qualms about being watched by frightened eyes.

He would defeat this enemy to protect his charge. That was the only option his mind presented him.

Knowing he had to neutralize the magicians first, he pulled the trigger twice in quick succession. He heard one muffled groan. The results were clear—one was down, the other blocked it. He saw the enemy magician’s fingers dancing over his CAD. He saw another man leveling a tranquilizer gun at him.

With the unreal speed of something like a magic trick, Morisaki holstered his handgun at his waist and rebooted his multipurpose bracelet CAD from its state of suspension.

He felt an acceleration spell beginning to affect his body. He ignored it. The activation sequence he called up was an area-of-effect movement spell. The dart, fired with compressed gas, was caught up in his spell, Stasis.

The acceleration to fling him to the side hit his body then. His feet left the ground and he fell into the water.

Rin leaned over the pier and shouted his name. The group of men in black all rushed over to her.

A gun barrel poked out of the water. His right hand, holding a CAD in the shape of a handgun, surfaced even before his nose could get above water to breathe. It pointed at the magician waiting near the back.

The spell fired.

The enemy magician, taken by surprise, was knocked out cold by Morisaki’s magic.

Once again, he put his specialized CAD into suspended mode, but left it in his hand. Then he rebooted his multipurpose CAD’s functions. As he sank deeper, he pressed buttons on the CAD’s number pad and activated an acceleration spell.

With a jump even dolphins would gape at—no, a jump impossible for dolphins—Morisaki’s body leaped out of the water.

His right arm went up, and his left arm went down. As his wrists crossed, he not only pointed his specialized CAD at the enemies but also switched off the power on his multipurpose one. He let psions flow out of him and into his specialized CAD, then pulled the trigger six times in midair.

Unable to completely kill the momentum of his free fall, as soon as he hit the ground, he ended up crash-landing on the paved road.

And as his body fell, so, too, did the men in black, one at a time.

“Shun, Shun! Are you all right?!” called Rin, face desperate as she knelt beside him.

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding and opening his eyes. He was faceup; he stayed there for a few moments to catch his breath, then brought himself to a sitting position. When he tried to stand up, though, he fell back to one knee with an “Agh!”

“Shun?!”

“I’m all right… Just a sprain or two,” he said, though a greasy sweat had appeared on his brow.

Rin looked all around for help. The effects of the mental interference spell, which had prevented anyone from noticing them, had already disappeared. Most of the tourists and couples out on dates were looking at them from afar. But they were distant stares—uncanny ones. Everyone focused on Morisaki’s left arm, noting the mounted bracelet-shaped CAD that marked him as a modern magician.

She could hear them whispering to each other. Nobody dared come near. Morisaki gave up on standing and instead sat down with his legs crossed. “Rin, is the boat here yet?”

“Huh? Oh…I think that’s it over there.”

“I see…”

A small cruiser was approaching. It was a high-speed ship made for shallow waters in both the ocean and rivers.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault…” Rin’s head drooped.

“It’s fine,” replied Morisaki. “More important, you’re safe. I’m relieved I could keep my promise.” That didn’t sound like a show of courage. His voice sounded genuinely satisfied.

“Why…?”

“Why, indeed…” replied Morisaki, not really giving an answer to her question. “Maybe you were right, Rin.”

But even without enough words, he knew what she was trying to ask him.

“Maybe magic is a tool made for fighting… And maybe we magicians, since our minds are built around magic, really are tools meant for fighting. Because we like it.”

Morisaki’s monologue sounded as though he was forsaking himself, and tears formed in Rin’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Shun, I’m so sorry…” she repeated between sobs, the tears immediately starting to flow as she looked down.

“Rin? Why are you apologizing? Why are you the one crying…?” Confused, Morisaki sought the reason for her tears and apologies. But he was calm—so calm it surprised even him. There was no confusion in his heart.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying such terrible things to you…”

“Rin?”

Morisaki was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. Unfortunately, nobody had ever given him instructions for times like this.

“Don’t say you’re a tool. You protected me without even considering the danger. You’re far more human than those worried people over there who can only watch from a distance.”

Her scattered words, spoken disconnectedly amid hiccups and sobs, strung together in his mind…

…and filled his heart with pride.

“I’m so ashamed. I was just like them before. Somewhere in my mind I thought of magicians as monsters, as different creatures than me. I’m so sorry, Shun.”

“It’s fine. Really.”

Encouraged by the strength of his tone more than his words, Rin looked up.

“I’m satisfied I could help you out. This ended up being a really worthwhile day for me.”

Just as Morisaki had no inkling of Rin’s circumstances, she didn’t have any means of knowing about his worries.

Rin looked at him askance as he smiled, brightly and clearly.

“Rin, your boat has arrived.”

She turned around. As he said, the small cruiser had finished docking, and two men in suits were bowing deeply toward her.

“Go on, Rin. I’ll be fine after a couple of minutes of rest.”

“What? But…”

“Please, go. They could attack us again.”

“…All right, Shun. Really, thank you so much.”

No good-bye kiss. He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But that would make everything too convenient, tarnishing this reality that felt so fulfilling to him. And that wasn’t him trying to inflate his ego.

The more unfortunate thing for him was that he had to remain sitting to see her off. As Rin waved to him from the boat, he waved back, still cross-legged on the ground.

It didn’t look very cool, but maybe that, too, was fitting for him.

“Lady Meiling, it is good that you’re safe.”

“Yes, thanks to some help from that young man before.”

After the cruiser left the shoreline, Rin nodded to one of the men who came to meet her. Her expression was cold, and she answered to a different name—it was like she was an entirely different person. A kind old man, whose hair had all turned gray, stood before her.

“Lady Meiling…please give more thought to coming to this nation alone in times such as these.”

“Are you giving me an order?”

“No, I would never do such a thing,” the old man replied, respectfully bowing to her. His manner was impeccable, but his attitude seemed somehow false. “However, it would appear this nation’s government is fully prepared to fight us. I believe their discourtesy toward you this day deserves suitable retaliation,” he suggested, gazing up at her.

“I will not allow it,” she replied, cutting the notion down without a second thought. “I see. The Japanese government’s actions today were high-handed and discourteous ten thousand times over. However, I received that much kindness and more in return from that young man. If you are going to set me up as your leader because none of you are able to use magic, then I will forbid any action taken against this country. If that dissatisfies you, then please, send me back to California.”

“There is no need. All shall be as you will it, Lady Meiling.”

Morisaki was not taken into custody by the COIA.

That was probably because they weren’t acting lawfully, either. Other members of the unconscious suits’ allies had retrieved the defeated right in front of Morisaki, and the agents who had come to recover them hadn’t spared him even a glance.

Who exactly was Rin? Why was a national agency after her? Nobody told him.

Ultimately, the chance never came for him to find out who she really was: the foster daughter of Richard Sun (daughter to a mistress her father had particularly enjoyed the company of), the former leader of the Hong Kong–based international crime syndicate No-Head Dragon before his assassination. She was the girl who had been raised to the position of leader by the organization’s fleeing remnants: Meiling Sun.