by Tsutomu Sato
But right now, he didn’t need a myriad of magic, just one absolute power that would bring him certain victory.
There were no weapons in his enemies’ hands anymore. When he set foot into the deepest room in the building, he was not welcomed with bullets, but rather vacant laughter and unintelligible noise.
“How was that, Magician? This is real Cast Jamming!”
The lunatic darkness in his insane laughter that swallowed the minds of men was no longer present. Hajime Tsukasa’s mad mirth was no more than the product of a bluff. Supporting his last-ditch effort was a bracelet of antinite, shining in brass on his right wrist. Rings of the same color adorned the fingers of the other eleven men as well.
Antinite was a military product whose production areas were extremely limited. Some examples included part of the ancient Aztec Empire, part of the Mayan nations, central Tibet, a portion of the Scottish highlands, and a part of the Iranian Plateau. Only locations that once held ancient mountain civilizations yielded it. It was as though it was a man-made object only refined at high elevations.
Tatsuya muttered to himself, looking at the massive quantities of it they had prepared. “Your patron is the re-secession faction in Ukraine-Belarus, and their sponsor is the G.A.A.…” A shock passed through the room. How utterly boring, he thought. Third-rate was too good a term to use for them. He honestly couldn’t stand being near them any longer.
“Do it! Magicians who can’t use magic are just brats!”
Even fighting them would be a pain, so Tatsuya raised his right hand and pulled the trigger on his CAD.
It wasn’t a gun. It didn’t fire anything like it, such as lasers or charged particles, for which physical technology had yet to create miniaturized firing methods.
Despite that, the man in his line of fire collapsed, blood spurting from his thighs. From two spots—one in front, and one behind. The holes were small, like they’d been stabbed with thin needles. They struck their nerve ganglia directly, piercing their femurs.
Tatsuya pulled the trigger again and again. The men fell one after another, blood bursting from their shoulders, from their legs. He was drilling holes with a magic program that used his line of fire as a setting, dismantling every cellular substance making up their flesh—their skin, muscles, nerves, fluids, and bones—at the molecular level.
Changing just one part of an object or information… This, too, was a skill classified as being of high difficulty by modern magic, but for Tatsuya’s magic calculation, which compensated for his extremely limited abilities, it was no trouble.
“Why?!” How many times had this man said that already? He would get an answer if he thought about it, but even counting would be ludicrous. “Why can you use magic with Cast Jamming?!”
Cast Jamming was a kind of typeless magic that created psionic noise to interfere with others executing magic. The composition of the noise created by the antinite hindered the usage of magic programs. Tatsuya had dismantled that composition and turned the noise into psionic ripples. Cast Jamming was an obstacle in the road to others’ magic programs, and Tatsuya could dismantle the obstacle itself. That was really all it was.
Hajime Tsukasa was evidently a magician, given how he’d used Evil Eye, but he didn’t even know this simple fact. At the moment, it was annoying to deal with this man, even to put an end to him.
Then, suddenly, the wall at Tatsuya’s back split open. There was a subtle, glittering, silver light—the diffuse reflection of steel being vibrated at a high speed.
Vibration magic—it was the High-Frequency Blade.
“Eeeee!” Hajime Tsukasa jumped away from the wall, flailing like he’d thrown out his back.
Someone marched into where he’d just been standing, and it was Takeaki Kirihara. He must have come in through the back and literally carved out a path to get here.
“Yo. You the one who got these guys?” There was no other possible explanation. Before he could respond in the affirmative, Kirihara nodded a few times. “You really are somethin’, my man. What about this guy?” he asked, pointing scornfully to the frightened man clinging to the wall.
“That’s Blanche’s leader, Hajime Tsukasa.”
“So it’s him…?”
The change was instant. Even Tatsuya winced at the wrath Kirihara unleashed from his body.
“So it’s you! You’re the one who cheated Mibu!”
“Eeeeeeee!”
“Mibu… It’s all your fault!”
“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Kirihara’s unsheathed katana sliced through Hajime Tsukasa’s right arm, wearing the brass bracelet, at the elbow.
Katsuto showed up from the hole Kirihara had opened. He scowled. Then, in the span of an instant, he used the CAD in his left hand. It was the same kind of multipurpose CAD in the shape of a portable terminal that Miyuki used. There was no time lag that could be detected with the five senses.
With the smell of burning flesh, the blood stopped, and so did the screams. Hajime Tsukasa foamed at the mouth, had a bout of incontinence, and fainted.
Katsuto took over cleaning up afterward.
What Tatsuya and the others had done had been excessive self-defense in a good light…and assault or attempted homicide in a bad one—not to mention their unlicensed use of magic. The hands of the law never reached them, though. The influence of the Ten Master Clans surpassed justice authorities.
When countries learned talent in modern magic was controlled by inborn qualities, they schemed to strengthen the bloodlines themselves. It was a logical consequence. For nations that only had enough power to research magic as a system, no matter where in the world they were, those schemes had been carried out since before the time modern magic and supernatural abilities were considered separate things.
Japan practiced it as well, of course. As a result, a new group was formed that would reign over the world of magic in this country.
That group was the Ten Master Clans.
They were not yet a century old, so their hierarchy was still fluid and unsettled. But that was a problem for the Ten Master Clans to deal with among themselves. A very tall fence had already been erected between the clans and everyone else.
There were the Hundred Families as well, who were seen as next on the ladder below the Ten Master Clans and strengthened their bloodlines in the same way. They, too, were across a gap so large they even admitted it themselves.
The Ten Master Clans would never stand on the political stage. They would not become outward-facing influences. In fact, they supported Japan on the front lines using their magic powers as soldiers, police officers, and administrative officials. In exchange for the abandonment of public influence, they had gained an essentially inviolable power behind the scenes of politics. That was the path this nation’s modern magic users had chosen.
The most influential families among the Ten Master Clans were currently the Yotsuba and the Saegusa. Third in line were the Juumonji. If the heir to the Juumonji family was involved in an incident, normal police officers wouldn’t be able to participate.
After the incident, Haruka was treated as though she were on a long-term business trip. As though—for it was a pretense diverging from the truth.
She had yet to answer the question Leo had asked her. Though considering the fact that First High didn’t bring in a replacement counselor, she might have had plans on coming back at some point.
As part of the cleanup process, the door to the library’s special viewing room—the one Tatsuya had severed using Dismantle—was being reported as having been destroyed by the Blanche operatives. That way, the school wouldn’t have to follow up on a failure by key management. —Of course, the students hadn’t reported to the school that Tatsuya had cut down a composite-armored door by himself, so they seemed to believe it at least half-seriously. The work being done by the school was to conceal the fact that keys had been stolen from the students. Even the fact that First High students had been part of it had been swept under the rug.
Sayaka’s attempted spying, too, was treated as though it never happened due to adult circumstances.
Sayaka ended up in the hospital for a while. The fracture in the bone in her right arm wasn’t enough of an injury to be hospitalized for. But when they found out Blanche’s leader had been using Evil Eye, a light-wave vibration spell, the doctors wanted to keep her there for a while to make sure no effects from the mind control were still present.
Tatsuya only went to visit her once while she was hospitalized, but Erika visited frequently, and they became fast friends.
Kinoe Tsukasa, the captain of the boy’s kendo team, wasn’t charged with any crimes, either. He had been under the effects of some very severe mind control.
It was reported he was taking a temporary absence rather than withdrawing from school and was undergoing long-term treatment. He would probably end up leaving First High of his own volition, though. He had never really wanted to be a magician, and his pushion radiation sensitivity wasn’t bad enough to hinder everyday life.
They’d discovered that Hajime Tsukasa had an eye on his ability to detect magic and made him enroll at a magic high school so that he could find magic that would prove useful to the organization. After his mind control wore off, he would likely strive toward what he really wanted to do—probably kendo.
Tatsuya’s unique magic talents hadn’t been divulged to anyone beyond the comrades who had gone with him to the abandoned factory. Mayumi and Mari hadn’t been told, either. The same went for his friends Mizuki, Honoka, and Shizuku.
More accurately, Leo and Erika didn’t know about the most crucial part of it.
Tatsuya didn’t know what Katsuto had been thinking when he forbade Kirihara to speak of it, but he was grateful for the act all the same.
The magic he had—right now, it couldn’t be public.
Of course, Mayumi and Mari appeared to vaguely suspect something was up.
Miyuki was depressed for a week afterward.
On the surface she was still the perfectly beautiful girl, but he’d seen her burying her face in her hands on sudden impulses.
—Only at home, though.
She must have been under the impression that using Niflheim had been going too far.
Fortunately, since the members of Blanche had coincidentally gone into a form of cold sleep—because of the properties of magic, even the freezing of internal parts of a body would happen in an instant, so no cell damage had been caused—it seemed none of them had been physically injured beyond the point of recovery.
When she was down, Tatsuya pampered her as much as she wanted, creating a situation that wasn’t really funny but still had to be laughed at, where she seemed to take longer to come out of her depression instead.
At school, Tatsuya went about his business as usual. The disciplinary committee and student council had been making him do random errands, but he was finally well on the way to acquiring the quiet learning environment he’d envisioned upon enrolling.
And then May arrived.
On the day Sayaka was scheduled to be discharged, Tatsuya and Miyuki went together to celebrate at the hospital. (He decided to cancel his classes this morning. The freedom they had in attending lectures was a big merit of learning from a terminal without a teacher to supervise.)
When they got there…
“Isn’t that Takeaki Kirihara?”
Tatsuya didn’t need to be told—he noticed him, too.
Sayaka had already changed out of her hospital robes and into normal clothing. She was surrounded by family and nurses in the entrance hall.
Kirihara was next to her, taking part in the friendly conversation inside the ring of people. His face looked somehow abashed and just a little bit delighted.
“They are quite close, aren’t they?” Miyuki noted.
She, of course, knew of the event that could have been called the beginning of everything—the incident in which the kenjutsu club had intervened in the kendo club’s demonstration.
Seeing the main two concerned parties, Sayaka and Kirihara, acting so closely felt a little strange.
“I hear Kirihara’s been coming every day.”
“You don’t say.”
He turned around to the voice coming at him without any previous notice. Erika stood there, looking disappointed. “Gah. I guess you really can’t be surprised.”
“No, I certainly am. I had no idea Kirihara was such a sincere person.”
“Not that!”
Tatsuya knew. He was obviously redirecting the conversation. So when Erika gave him that sullen look, he just smiled it away.
“Hmph! If you keep doing things in bad character like that, Saya’s gonna dump you, y’know.”
Tatsuya didn’t pay much attention to the dumping bit.
He wasn’t proud of it, but he had zero experience in being popular with girls.
More important—
“Erika… When you say Saya, do you mean Mibu?”
Miyuki was a step ahead of him in asking the question.
“Hmm? Yeah, that’s right.”
“…You seem pretty friendly with her already.”
“Just leave it to me!”
Tatsuya almost blurted out Leave what to you? He decided that would just make this chaotic conversation even worse, so he stopped himself and swallowed his words. He’d come here for a hospital visit first and foremost.
Leading Miyuki and Erika behind him—though he wasn’t quite sure whether Erika was following like she should have been, but that was a needless anxiety on his part no matter how he looked at it—he spoke into the ring of people. “Mibu?”
“Shiba! You came to see me?”
She made a slightly surprised face. As her expression bespoke of her not expecting this, the emotion melted into happiness and Sayaka welcomed him with a broad smile.
—Next to her, Kirihara looked sullen for a moment. It was an amusing gesture, one of the spices of life.
“Congratulations on being discharged.” Miyuki handed the bouquet she held in both hands to her. At first Tatsuya had wanted to follow modern custom and have it delivered. Miyuki had been unusually firm in opposing the idea, though, insisting that there was meaning in bringing these kinds of things personally. He had backed down at her angry look and decided to yield.
Her holding a bouquet made her look so good that she stood out in the usual city streets because of it. But now that he’d seen Sayaka smile so happily upon receiving the flowers, Tatsuya knew it had been worth it to do as his sister had said.
“So you’re the Shiba I’ve heard so much about, then?”
When Tatsuya had pulled away from the conversation between the girls—at this point he was just nodding along with them—a man of the age where he’d be in the prime of his life addressed him. He might have only been called by his last name, but there was no mistaking the look he was giving. His body was lean and toned, and his posture without deviation. Were they the results of martial arts training? His features, too, made him look like he was related to Sayaka.
“My name is Yuuzou Mibu—I’m Sayaka’s father.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Tatsuya Shiba.”
“I’m his younger sister, Miyuki Shiba. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Miyuki had been keen enough to notice Tatsuya exchanging introductions with someone, and bowed politely from behind him. Her elegant mannerisms seemed to make him falter a bit, but he stiffened his expression almost immediately, speaking to his training in martial arts.
Sayaka’s sword skills were probably handed down from her father.
“Miyuki, could you look after Erika for me?” asked Tatsuya.
Miyuki turned around just as Kirihara was finding himself cornered by Erika talking to him. “Yes, Tatsuya. Please excuse me, monsieur.”
Her usage of monsieur gave Sayaka’s father a start that he couldn’t conceal, but he managed an acceptable response. Of course, both siblings pretended not to notice it.
Tatsuya turned ba
ck to face Sayaka’s father. The man understood that his getting Miyuki out of the conversation was Tatsuya being considerate, so he didn’t waste time with unnecessary prefaces.
“Shiba, I am grateful to you. My daughter is back on her feet because of you.”
“I didn’t do anything, sir. My sister and Chiba are the ones who got through to her. And Chiba and Kirihara are the ones who stayed with her while she was hospitalized. I did nothing but coldly refuse her. You may resent me for it, but I did nothing worthy of thanks.”
“Refuse her? I couldn’t even do that. I knew my daughter was anxious over her magic not improving as quickly as she liked, and yet I still didn’t think it was an important problem. I was so caught up in my own measurement—that others’ evaluation of one’s magical abilities are completely different from strength in actual combat—that I didn’t really understand just how much my daughter was worrying. In fact, I used how busy I was as an excuse. When she started associating with strange people, I didn’t stand up and face it. I’m a failure of a father.
“I heard from her a general idea of what happened. She told me she began to doubt what she was doing after what you said to her, and it had been a long time since that happened. She said it was like awakening from a nightmare. And she was grateful to you. She said you saved her by telling her it wasn’t for nothing. I don’t know what she was referring to, but I do know that her gratitude was real.
“So just let me say this—thank you.”
“…I really didn’t do anything someone should thank me for, sir…”
Tatsuya shook his head slightly, a little uncomfortable. Sayaka’s father shook his head. “…You’re just like Kazama said, aren’t you?”
That simple line was more than enough to take Tatsuya’s calm away. “…You’re familiar with Major Kazama?”
“I’m already retired from the service, but he’s a friend of mine from life in the barracks. We’re the same age, too. I’m still in touch with him.”
Tatsuya understood from the man’s previous words that he was pretty closely “in touch” with the major. He had to have been. Kazama would never speak of Tatsuya to a simple friend—even a close one.