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Maria sometimes wonders what a normal life is like.
What if she grew up with her family in a country that hardly knew war? What peaceful days could she have lived? Basking in the loving care of her birth mother and father, taking Serena to school, going to school herself, graduating and getting a college degree. She’d still take up Muay Thai and stay in shape, but her fists would only be for sport, not bloodshed.
What if Noise, Symphogear, gods—what if none of that existed?
If she had lived a normal life, Maria swears she would never get involved with politics or the military. Corruption is one thing, but deciphering truth from bullshit in a politician’s words is immensely exhausting.
Her gloved fist impacts the punching bag one last time before she decides to call it a night. An hour at the gym usually leaves her innervated, but her body craves sleep after an entire day of meetings, political gymnastics, and endless paperwork.
At least she got to imagine hitting the face of that disgusting balding president of the United States as she practiced her punches tonight.
The world is rebuilding at a steady pace after Shem-Ha’s defeat a month ago. At this point Japan is accustomed to rehauling its entire infrastructure with how often the country is attacked, especially in the past four years alone. The challenging part is in politics, particularly establishing stronger foreign relations and filling in the gaps left by the Kazanari family after…
Maria closes her eyes and sighs. At least the commander and Tsubasa were able to organize the funeral without waiting too long.
She walks over to the bench where she left her things, grabbing a towel to clean off her sweat. Once she’s done, she looks down and notices a notification on her communicator.
Report to Lounge 5. -Kazanari Genjuurou
Maria frowns. The short message isn’t entirely surprising; all of the orders transmitted via their communicators are brief, with the expectation that a more thorough debriefing will occur later. But it is past dinner, nearing ten at night. Plus, the location of the meeting isn’t at the bridge, but one of the lounges the employees use to relax.
What could the commander want at this hour?
Regardless of her confusion, it’s an order from the commander of S.O.N.G.. As his direct subordinate, she can’t just ignore the summoning.
She needs a shower first, though.
Some cooldown stretches and one warm shower later, Maria stands in front of the doors leading into Lounge 5. Since this isn’t the bridge where S.O.N.G. agents usually meet, she decides to announce her arrival with a knock before barging right in.
As she steps through the automatic doors, she greets with a clear voice, “Reporting in, Commander. What did you ne…ed…?”
Maria partly expects that the meeting will only be with the commander, given the nature of the message to her communicator. What she doesn’t expect to see is a bottle of sake—one of those fancy ceramic ones—and a set of three sake cups on the table.
Well, two of the sake cups are on the table. One of them is being held between the commander’s fingers.
“Oh, finally here?” Kazanari Genjuurou raises his cup in greeting. “I was wondering what was keeping you.”
“Did I… come at a bad time?” Maria asks, wondering if she accidentally interrupted Genjuurou’s break.
Then again, I don’t remember ever seeing the commander drinking at headquarters.
“No, not at all. In fact,” Genjuurou gestures to the table with his sake cup, “I was hoping to share a drink with you, Maria-kun.”
Maria frowns. “I’m afraid I will have to decline. Partaking in alcohol with S.O.N.G.’s commander, with my employer, is a massive breach of professionalism.”
Genjuurou blinks, as if the notion just hits him. Honestly, it is times like this that Maria remembered that he is a Kazanari—hyperfocused on their goals, often neglecting the smaller details.
“Hm, then how about this? Consider this a discussion between two adults, not commander and agent. Oh, and you can drop the honorifics too.”
“This is still hardly professional.”
A few moments of silence later, the man heaves a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe you were right, Tomosato.”
Now it is Maria’s turn to blink. She looks around, but the older S.O.N.G. staff member isn’t anywhere in the room.
“You really shouldn’t be surprised. You know how Maria-san can be,” a voice cuts in from the intercom. “It’s okay, Maria-san. The commander briefed us about the details of the discussion he wants to have with you. I’ll have the audio muted to maintain privacy, but I’ll still be monitoring you both over the cameras.”
Maria eyes the alcohol on the table. “And the sake is necessary?”
Genjuurou shrugs. “It’s been a long week.”
Something clicks in Maria’s brain. Suddenly, the exhaustion from before that her shower had momentarily washed away comes back, and she is reminded of whose funeral was held a week ago.
Well, if even Tomosato is reassuring her…
“Very well. I leave things in your hands then, Miss Tomosato.”
The woman chuckles over the intercom, but says nothing more.
Taking that as her cue, Maria walks over to the table and takes a seat on one of the couches situated across from the commander—from Genjuurou. As she does so, she notices that one of the sake cups is already filled.
However, instead of giving her that one, Genjuurou fills the third with alcohol and passes it to her. “How are you with sake?”
Maria accepts the cup, using one hand as a makeshift saucer. “It isn’t my alcohol of choice, though I don’t dislike it.”
“I figured that was the case.” Genjuurou reaches under the table and brings out a… rather impressive bottle of clear liquor. “Good thing I brought insurance!”
Still reeling from the fact that S.O.N.G.’s commander wants to share drinks with her, Maria completely balks at the one liter bottle of vodka that Genjuurou slams onto the table. She recognizes the brand as a popular manufacturer from Russia; at least Genjuurou did his research.
Wait, that’s not what’s important right now.
“I, um…” Maria frowned. “You shouldn’t have?”
The man guffaws so loud that Maria has to stop herself from jumping and spilling her sake. “It isn’t every day that I get to drink with others. Plus, I’ve always wanted to try vodka from Eastern Europe with someone. Ogawa disappears after two drinks, Fujitaka’s such a lightweight that he’d never bother, and Tomosato prefers beer or sake.”
“I see.” She doesn’t, but she doesn’t see a point in questioning further.
For now, Genjuurou leaves the bottle of vodka on the table and returns to his sake. He raises his cup, and Maria meets his cup with hers. To her confusion, he also raises his cup to the third on the table before downing the alcohol in one go.
After finishing her cup, she decides to breach the topic first. “What was it you wanted to discuss with me?”
“A variety of things,” Genjuurou says as he pours them both another round.
Maria resists the urge to take the sake bottle from the older man’s hands. From what little she knows of Japanese culture, she swears that the subordinate or younger person has the responsibility of pouring alcohol. Maybe this is Genjuurou’s way of telling her to throw decorum out the window tonight.
When the older man doesn’t continue, Maria speaks to break the silence. “If it’s about today’s business, I have already submitted my report.”
“Hm? Oh, you mean the transcription of the meeting with the UN and the world leaders. No, that wasn’t what I meant. Thinking about it would just ruin the sake.”
“Then…?”
“Have you spoken to Tsubasa lately?”
The unexpected question makes her pause for a moment. What brought this up? Why bring Tsubasa up? All internal questions she keeps to herself, instead choosing to reply to Genjuurou’s inquiry. “Not in the last few days, no. Between our respective duties to S.O.N.G. and Tsubasa’s… legal affairs, neither of us have had much personal time. Though, that goes for the other girls too.”
Genjuurou purses his lips. “I see. I’ll have to speak to Ogawa about rearranging your schedule then. It wasn’t our intention to overwork you.”
“Ah, no, it’s fine.” Maria shakes her head. “I’m not the only one with too many things on their plate.”
Hibiki, Miku, Kirika, and Shirabe had a ton of schoolwork to make up for. The whole ordeal with Shem-Ha cut close to the end of their school year, which meant quite a few exams they needed to take. Chris is thankfully already transitioning to the start of her first year at university, so she has less coursework to worry about.
Maria holds back a tired sigh. It’s been awhile since I was able to speak to any of them for longer than a few passing pleasantries.
Of all the Gear users, Maria sees Tsubasa around the most. Though not because they are partnered together for missions; Tsubasa’s time is spent mostly with Genjuurou to get the Kazanari’s affairs in order. The family is in a rough state after everything Fudou did.
Trying to control divine power and a Custodian is one thing. No, the worst is the murder of his first son, Kazanari Yatsuhiro, and leaving a vacuum in his own family.
Maria clenches her fingers around the fragile porcelain sake cup. She most likely could have broken it if Genjuurou doesn’t choose that moment to speak.
“Tsubasa… will take over as the head of the Kazanari clan.”
Instead of her cup, Maria feels her heart shatter.
Of all the problems Fudou left, the most prudent is declaring a new head of the Kazanari clan. With the previous head in prison, the title would have been passed to the eldest son. But with Yatsuhiro’s passing, it is now a whole legal conundrum between Tsubasa—the next head of the clan that Fudou himself had declared, though unwillingly—and Genjuurou as the current eldest child.
Apparently, within the past few weeks, a decision has been made while they were all busy with their own affairs.
She snaps her head up, eyes blazing. “Wha– Why?! If she does that… If she becomes the head of her family, how is she supposed to fulfill her dream?!”
Leading a clan is not easy, especially one such as the Kazanari. Political standing, financial investments—the clan holds a presence in almost every domestic affair in Japan and even some influence internationally. Running a family business means no time for anything else.
Including singing as an idol.
Genjuurou sighs, downing his alcohol before giving her a response. “Tsubasa declared it herself.”
Tsubasa…?
Maria sinks back against the couch. She gives a mirthless laugh. “Of course she did, that stupid girl. Truly a sentinel to her core.”
And after Yatsuhiro had finally overcome the Kazanari curse of social awkwardness to tell his daughter to pursue her dream. Encouraging her, even when he was on death’s door. Despite his distant nature, he had truly wished for Tsubasa to be free from the grips of their family.
He had even died for her to have a future.
Maria raises her freehand to the pendant resting around her neck. She understood a survivor’s guilt all too well.
Fate truly is cruel.
A familiar sorrow wells in her chest, threatening to burst. No, now is not the time to wallow in her own self-hatred. This is not about her.
Maria downs her sake, quelling her personal demons in liquid fire. This time, she takes the sake bottle before Genjuurou can and pours them both another round.
“And you’ve tried to talk her out of it, I assume?” she asks the man as he stares between her and the sake.
“Of course. But you know how she is.” Genjuurou swirls the alcohol in his sake cup. “She pulled the duty card on me.”
Right. Because even though the two are sharing drinks together, and Genjuurou’s informal attire is even more lax than usual, the man across from her is still the commander of the Squad of Nexus Guardians. Even if there are possible successors, Genjuurou is currently the best for the job. Possessing immense combat and tactical experience, along with boundless compassion and faith in his subordinates, there truly is no one who could come close to taking his place.
How predictable that Tsubasa, the honor-bound sword she is, chooses to use that knowledge to her advantage.
Still, Maria has a hard time believing Tsubasa’s hardheaded uncle would fold so easily.
“And you caved to her argument?”
Genjuurou closes his eyes. “I managed to settle on a compromise. As of now, I will take on the role as acting head. Regardless of what our old man says, I hold the responsibility as his remaining eldest son.”
“And Kazanari Fudou is a felon with a significant list of charges, so his protests mean nothing. And Tsubasa’s compromise?”
“She will delay her succession until marriage.”
Maria blinks. “How… arcane.”
“It was the decision that arose from our most recent meeting… with the other clan representations. Members who aren’t as ruthless as my father, but equally as traditional. For some, even more so.” Genjuurou stares at his sake cup for a moment before throwing his head back and downing his alcohol. “They had… opinions about a woman taking on the title as head of the clan.”
Maria stares at him for a second. Two. Three.
How… how dare they?!
The anger bubbles again. The frustration she feels for Tsubasa clawing at her from within, ready to spill out of her.
Why does this family consist of assholes? No, calling them a family is an insult to actual, loving families. This collection of disgraceful-
She can shout all she wants, but she knows it doesn’t matter. Not when the man across from her understands exactly what she is feeling. There’s no point directing her anger at him; not when he is also a victim.
So, Maria does not shout. She simply follows Genjuurou’s lead and takes her sake like a shot. But instead of pouring them both more sake, she grabs the liter of vodka on the table.
“Did you prepare any shot glasses? Or am I pouring into our sake cups?” she snaps. In one fluid motion, she untwists the bottle open and discards the cap.
Genjuurou blinks. Wordlessly, he reaches under the table for a bag and pulls out two small glasses. He hesitates for a moment before pulling out a third.
“For the record, they were equally displeased having me as the head, even a temporary one,” Genjuurou says.
“Despite your accomplishments? Despite both of your accomplishments?”
“Tsubasa’s achievements as a Symphogear Candidate do elevate her in their eyes. Though, traditionalists tend to lump women and government dogs into the same category, among other things.”
She fills up the first two glasses, muttering under her breath about ungrateful old people stuck in the times of feudalism, before eyeing the third glass that Genjuurou had brought up.
“I’ve been meaning to ask this, but are we waiting for anyone else?”
“No, that’s… That one’s for my brother.”
Oh.
“I…see.” she manages to say as she leans over to pour one for the deceased Kazanari.
Genjuurou chuckles, perhaps at how quickly her surprise washed away her anger, though the laugh is much more subdued than before.
“I never got many chances to drink with brother Yatsuhiro. Tried my damn hardest, but he always said he was ‘too busy’ with his job.” The older man closes his eyes. “And now I’ve lost any more chances. My brother is gone, and the emptiness in my niece’s life has grown twofold.”
Twofold…? What other devastating loss has Tsubasa…?
Oh.
“Amou Kanade…” Maria realizes. “She was Tsubasa’s idol partner who died four, no, almost five years ago?”
Genjuurou nods. “They were partners not only on the stage performing together, but under Division 2 too. Before Hibiki-kun, Kanade and Tsubasa were our only Symphogear Candidates. Without anyone else, the two became each others’ rocks.”
The older man sighs. “Until that fateful day, when Kanade sang her Superb Song to save Tsubasa and Hibiki-kun. She gave up her life so that those two could have a future.”
In turn, inflicting a pain so great on Tsubasa that it haunts the sentinel to this day. Maria understands the guilt of a survivor all too well.
Maria shoves her own dark thoughts down by drinking half of the drink.
She blinks, pleasantly surprised. Genjuurou did bring the good vodka.
The man reaches for his shot glass on the table, only to freeze and pull his hand back. He threads his fingers together, placing his hands on his knees instead.
“Tsubasa spent two years lost in grief, casting away her career as a singer and taking up the blade. She would have continued to fight the Noise on her own until her literal bones withered away if we had not discovered Hibiki-kun had Kanade’s Gungnir. Even then, it took more time for her to truly accept Kanade’s death; to put down her blade for a microphone and a stage instead.”
“Only for conflict to plague her every step of the way.” Maria looks down at her own hands, for a brief moment stained in red. She shakes her head, and they are pristine once more. “The F.I.S.—our declaration of war, then the Autoscorers, and the concert where Noble Red…”
Genjuurou offers her a wry smile. “The first two aren’t so bad. There were no casualties after all. Honestly, that should have been my first sign that you truly weren’t Finé’s reincarnation.”
Red spreads across Maria’s cheeks, and it isn’t because of the alcohol. “E-Excuse me for having morals and some humanity!”
Genjuurou chuckles, but his laugh quickly tapers off into a somber sigh. “But the last concert, on top of my brother Yatsuhiro’s death… I fear the consecutive misfortune is too much for Tsubasa to weather this time.”
“Tsubasa… is strong,” Maria says, though even she second guesses herself.
No matter how strong of a person, loss is not something that one can simply get over. Especially when one’s weakness is thrown right into their face. Especially when the tragedy befalls someone’s closest loved ones.
As if reading her thoughts, Genjuurou’s soft gaze catches her own. “She certainly is. But even the strongest of swords have their weak points. And sometimes, the sharper the steel, the more brittle they truly are.”
But strength does not lie in solidarity, does it? If there is anything Maria has learned from Tachibana Hibiki, it is at least that.
“She is not alone,” Maria says. “Just as she came to terms with Amou Kanade’s death with Hibiki’s help, she has others who are here for her now. Hibiki, of course, but Chris and the others as well. And she has you, her uncle.”
Genjuurou purses his lips, looking straight at Maria. “Of course. I may have taken a more professional stance all those years ago, prioritizing my duty as commander of the Second Division as she desired me to, but I won’t do that again. Still, there’s only so much I can do. I’m counting on you, as her current partner, to watch out for her.”
Why is Genjuurou staring at her like that?
“I… would not presume to call my relationship to Tsubasa as something like that. But you’re right—someone has to look out for that disaster of a human being.”
“Oh? And what would you call it, then?”
Looking away, Maria quickly finishes the rest of her first shot. “Fellow Symphogear Candidates and comrades. Co-workers, at times. And friends, of course.”
Because that is all that Tsubasa will see her as. And Maria is fine with that.
Nevermind the tightness in her chest.
She busies herself by pouring herself another shot.
“I suppose that’s not wrong.” Finally, Genjuurou takes his first shot. “Hoh, this is pretty good! But how do you like the vodka I chose?”
Bottle still in hand, Maria leans over to refill Genjuurou’s glass. “Truthfully? Impressive. I believe the last time I had vodka of this quality was Mum’s last birthday. Not that I’ve had many occasions to drink anything stronger than beer and wine. Or the occasional sake while in Japan.”
“Professor Nastassja? Ah, right. She was Russian, wasn’t she?”
“Despite her poor health, she could hold her liquor quite well. She enjoyed a drink or two on her own when she thought none of us were looking.”
“Hm, must be the Eastern European genes.” Genjuurou eyes her with a quirked eyebrow. “Not feeling anything even after three cups of sake and a shot of vodka?”
Now that he mentions it, her body feels comfortably warm. There’s a hint of a buzz, but none of the telltale signs of tipsiness.
“I wouldn’t say the alcohol has had no effect, but certainly nothing to be concerned about.” She swirls the vodka in her glass. “I suppose I can attribute my tolerance to the few times Mum allowed me to drink with her.”
“You’ve shared glasses with Professor Nastassja?”
Maria chuckles at the astonishment in his voice. “It puzzled me as well. Mum was so strict with us, so it surprised me when she presented me with the best alcohol she could buy on my eighteenth birthday. And the other nights… She admitted that alcohol was best enjoyed with others. And Kirika and Shirabe were nowhere near of age to drink.”
“I see. Despite her harsh edges, she was a caretaker with her own way to manage her children. I suppose I can respect that.” Genjuurou nods. He raises his glass. “To the professor. To your mother.”
Maria meets his glass with her own, a small smile tugging at her lips. “To Mum.”
The two take the shot together, downing the liquor in one go. Maria exhales and puts the empty glass down, only for Genjuurou to fill it immediately with more vodka.
The somber mood from before disappears, giving way to an atmosphere that Maria is familiar with. Just not with the commander of S.O.N.G.
“…This isn’t a competition, Comma–” she quickly corrects herself, “Mister Genjuurou.”
“No, no, of course not.” The burly man grins. “But no point letting this vodka go to waste.”
“You do realize that alcohol, especially vodka, can be saved for another occasion?”
“And who knows when that’ll be, with how busy we all are?”
Well, he has a point there. Maria certainly doesn’t want to think about all of the paperwork that will greet her in the morning tomorrow.
“Besides, the night is young! And I finally found myself a drinking partner who doesn’t complain about how they prefer juice or tea to alcohol!”
A wry grin sneaks its way up Maria’s lips. “I prefer coffee myself. Though I won’t deny that espresso martinis can be a treat at times.”
“Oh? I’ll have to try that at some point. What’s the alcohol in it?”
Her grin widens. “Vodka.”
This time when Genjuurou guffaws, it doesn’t shake Maria up at all. He raises his shot glass up and bellows, “Well cheers to that!!”
They speak of mundane things. Favorite foods and pastimes, besides training. How she learned to drive and pilot aircrafts. Movie recommendations—for training, specifically.
On the fifth shot, Genjuurou reaches under the table into his bag and pulls out something unexpected.
“A photo album?”
Genjuurou’s grin nearly splits his face in half. “Baby pictures. Of Tsubasa.”
The happy squeal Maria releases is thankfully dampened by the lounge’s soundproof walls. And thankfully, audio is turned off for those watching over them from the command bridge.
On their seventh shots…
“By the way, Maria-kun.”
“Hm?”
“How does your hair work?”
Once they reach their tenth shots of vodka, the one liter bottle down to a sliver remaining, neither of them immediately refill their glasses.
Maria leans back, putting an arm over her eyes to block the bright lights from scorching her eyeballs.
I am definitely drunk. She laments. When was the last time I got drunk? Ow, thinking hurts.
“Maria-kun,” Genjuurou drawls. His head lolls to one side, before snapping back up so that his gaze fixes on her.
Maria fights back a groan.
“Maria-kun,” the man repeats, stronger this time.
This time, Maria answers him with a very loud—and unladylike—grunt.
“Tsubasa…” Genjuurou starts slowly. “After losing one person after another, she may come to believe that everyone she loves will always die.”
For a moment the fog in her brain clears somewhat.
“That’s ridiculous,” she finds herself saying.
Genjuurou grunts. “Grief makes people ridiculous. You of all people should know that.”
She pulls her arm back, letting the god forsaken light burn her retinas, and musters up the best glare she can in her current state. Which probably isn’t much, given the horrendous pounding in her head.
A myriad of unwanted feelings bubble inside of her. Anger, loathing, sorrow, pity, hatred, all at herself.
She remembers those she lost, those who sacrificed themselves for her. Serena. Mum.
She remembers the blood she spilled, a thoughtless endeavor to save the world for their sake. Even if it meant making stupid decisions.
Maria doesn’t know whether she wants to scream, cry, punch something, or all of the above. So she forgoes the shot glass and grabs the vodka bottle by the neck, taking a swig straight from the bottle.
Across from her, Genjuurou meets her glare head on, taking their forgotten sake bottle and chugs it.
He places the empty bottle down on the coffee table with a resounding thunk. “So don’t you ever die, Maria-kun.”
Maria blinks. Her vision is swimming. She swears she’s seeing three Genjuurous. “What?”
“Kanade, and now her father. Any more will completely break her. Tsubasa won’t be able to handle it if someone else she loves dies.” He looks her straight in the eyes. “So don’t die. Please, I don’t want to see my niece hurt anymore.”
What does that have to do with me?
If it is the death of those she loves that bothers her, then she won’t have to worry. After all…
I do not count among those she loves.
“Shouldn’t you worry more about yourself, Commander?”
The man guffaws. “I’m not the one on the front lines! If you’re talking about my age, though, I’ve still got plenty of life in me!”
The dark coil in her loosens and warm comfort returns. At least for now.
“So it seems.”
True to her word, Tomosato Aoi watches S.O.N.G.’s commander and the eldest Symphogear Candidate chat, all through silent video footage. There were moments when Aoi had worried something had gone wrong. Like when Maria had stood up, definitely angry about something, and had taken the initiative to open Genjuurou’s bottle of vodka. But nothing had come of it, and it seemed their conversation lulled into stability.
However, two hours later, she sees the Symphogear Candidates’ mama bear—though Maria denies the title—drink straight out of a liter bottle of vodka.
If that isn’t a sign that it is time to intervene, then Aoi doesn’t know what would be.
She puts down her cup of tea and quickly shuts off the surveillance. No point leaving it on for anyone to accidentally see.
After cracking her back a few times, she steels herself and runs through a few mental scenarios on how she’s going to manage to get the two bears known as Kazanari Genjuurou and Maria Cadenzavna Eve under control by herself.
She literally runs into her answer after leaving the bridge.
“Tsubasa-san?” Aoi calls out. “What are you still doing at headquarters?”
“Ah, good evening, Tomosato-san. I left something in the simulator room and went to retrieve it.” The youngest Kazanari pauses. “Tomosato-san, is something the matter? You look troubled.”
“You have perfect timing, Tsubasa-san. Come with me, it’s definitely a matter of utmost importance.”
Aoi turns on her heels, walking toward Lounge 5, and thanks whatever Custodian she needs to for her good luck.
Kazanari Tsubasa walks into a disaster.
“Wh-What is going on?!”
Lounge 5 itself isn’t in too rough shape. Sure the couch cushions are on the floor and one of the couches is overturned, but there isn’t much clutter littering the floor. Just three overturned sake bottles, two empty sake cups, two empty shot glasses, her uncle draped over the remaining couch like dirty laundry, and Maria sprawled on the ground clutching an empty clear bottle by the neck.
The sentinel turns to Aoi. “What happened here?! Did someone poison them?!”
Beside her, the elder S.O.N.G. member is already moving to clean up the mess. “No one put them up to this, Tsubasa-san. These two were just discussing matters of importance.”
“Over alcohol?”
“It was the commander’s idea.”
“And Maria agreed?!”
As if hearing her name called, Maria grunts from her place face-first on the floor. “S’ dat Tsu-baka I hear? Uncleeeee, your neesh is here.”
Tsubasa stares down at the woman on the floor as if she has grown two heads.
Tsu-baka.
Uncle.
From Maria, of all people.
Oh, this is not good.
On the couch, Genjuurou perks up. “Hm? Oh, Tsubasa! Too bad we’re out of alcohol or I would’ve offered you some!”
“Plesh dun yell, Uncle,” Maria groans. “And no alc for Tsu-baka. Legal drink age in Japan not hit. Wait a few weeks.”
A shiver runs down Tsubasa’s spine. Suddenly, she dreads her upcoming twentieth birthday.
“How… how much did you two have to drink?” Tsubasa asks despite her brain warning her not to.
“Just these three bottles of sake,” Genjuurou booms, despite Maria’s protests. “Oh wait, it was four; I had two all by myself and Maria-kun had one.”
“We shared one too.” On the floor, Maria places the empty liter bottle on the ground upright with a solid thunk. “An dis.”
Tsubasa squints at the label. Oh, that was vodka.
“How did you two manage to drink two whole bottles of sake since I left the bridge…?” Aoi mutters.
“Maria-kun can certainly hold her liquor!” Genjuurou laughs, then winces. “Oh, that smarts.”
“The fact that Maria-san actually matched you in alcohol consumption is definitely something,” Aoi remarks. “Granted, you did finish a bottle of sake on your own before she arrived.”
“Eastern Europeans are crazy.”
On the floor, Maria groans into the carpet.
Tsubasa scans the room, catches Aoi reaching for an open photo album, and leaps to grab it before her.
She whirls around, “Why are my baby pictures here?!”
Genjuurou guffaws. “Why not? It’s a crime not to share your cuteness!”
“Uncle!!!”
“Don’t be like that, Tsu-baka,” Maria says, some clarity returning to her voice. “Even if you’re not a baby anymore, you’re still a very cute sword.”
“M-Maria?!”
Maria saw her baby pictures.
Maria saw her baby pictures.
Maria saw her baby pictures.
Is there a relic that can erase memories? Tsubasa needs to find it now.
Aoi sighs. “As you can see, both of them are very drunk. I can’t carry Maria-san on my own, let alone the Commander, so your help is greatly appreciated.”
Tsubasa looks between her intoxicated uncle, who is muttering something about how he misses carrying her on his shoulders, and Maria who is face-planted back on the ground and appears to be snoring.
“Perhaps it is better to lay my uncle on the couch and give him a blanket. I can carry Maria to a different room.”
Aoi nods. “Oh, but before you do, you might want to take a picture first.”
When Tsubasa cocks her head in confusion, Aoi chuckles. “I’m sure both of them will love to know what state they were in tonight once they’re sober.”
One quick picture later, Tsubasa scoops up Maria into her arms. Thankfully, she manages to shake Maria’s grip loose so she drops the empty vodka bottle.
Maria’s head lolls into Tsubasa’s chest. The sentinel feels a small smile tug on her lips, only for it to tumble into a small yelp when Maria inhales and presses herself closer against Tsubasa.
“M-Maria…?”
“…ove you…”
Her traitorous heart skips a beat. “Huh?”
“…don’t…forget your dreams. Okay, Tsubasa?”
Her chest tightens, different from how a single word tugged at her heartstrings before. “I…”
Her chest vibrates, and Tsubasa realizes that Maria has returned to the land of snoring.
The sentinel sighs. She doesn’t know what to do.
Finding Maria a comfortable place to sleep sounds like a good start.
The next day, Tsubasa helps nurse Maria from the worst hangover she’s experienced in years.
After giving Maria a glass of water and some painkillers, Tsubasa pulls out her phone and shows her the photo Aoi had her take.
Maria screams, loud enough that Kirika and Shirabe almost break down the door with Igalima and Shul Shagana drawn, and swears to never drink with Genjuurou again.
Eventually, Genjuurou convinces Maria to drink with him again.
To both of their benefits, Genjuurou opts to buy smaller bottles of vodka for their future drinking sessions.