Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Far above the glittering skyline was a typical office space that you'd see from a well off company, or a government office that sucked up millions of tax dollars, or a criminal enterprise that has grown too large for its britches, of which every accusation had been made to this holy office decorated according to the principles of corporate niceability. This place managed a veneer of a government office, which reflected in the employees' general attitude when there wasn't a crisis happening. Pure panic had set in amongst the weaker ones. Weeping from those who weren't used to the pressure came out from the bathrooms. The veterans, those keeping the situation alive, maintained their stoic visages, steeled personalities numbed long ago to feel panicked no matter how much work piled onto their unfinished stacks. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor, ignoring the harried secretaries who were begging for direction. Papers were flung in her face and one person even fell to their knees as they ranted about the press badgering them.

She was in the same exact situation as them, so what use was it to help? Better that she made sure her own corner was in order. Help was a scarce resource when all of their butts were on the firing line, and in situations such as these it was better to turtle up in a shell rather than extending a helping hand to every crying face. If they could weather through the storm of disorder for long enough, then surely a deus ex machina would descend to save them—them specifically, because the other students in Kivotos had become so irritating that she started to think that the disaster had descended as punishment for their sloth. Everybody thought their power lines being used as drying racks and streets melted down to slag were so unique when the same tragedies were happening down the block too. Cog in the Machine, Nanagami Rin, with a desert eagle as her favorite weapon always strapped to her side. Normally she'd be a little more discreet with her gun, but the dangerous circumstances made her feel like showing a little more force was necessary.

She pushed open the door to her office. Normally it'd be apt to call the city pristine if it weren't for the plumes of smoke and sounds of gunshots that were filtering through even fifty stories into the air. Black clouds pummeled against her window. Whether it was her problem or not rolled around in her head. It was ruining the sight from her office and prevented her from opening the windows, yet it also looked to be coming from the riverside—outside her current jurisdiction. The perfectly clean desktop wasn't meant to imply that she had no work but rather that it was a certain part of the day. Having the papers that would be dealt with laying out meant it was time to work solely on those. When they were put away, she was off the clock. It was just a silly little ritual that she did. During times when there was an explosion that tore the ceiling of a twenty-story building right where she could see it, the ritual became one of her 'off switches' where she pretended Kivotos wasn't burning for ten minutes.

The ritual was interrupted when there were three people sitting on the couch opposite to her desk. It was meant to simply add to the atmosphere rather than actually providing seating for anybody. Those she was on good terms with would be given a chair in front of her desk; those that weren't would find her office conspicuously lacking anywhere to sit.

Kivotos was full of stranger types, so Rin wasn't too shocked by their clothes. Two of them were wearing loose robes that seemed modeled off a shrine maiden's, one monochrome-themed whereas the other had earthy tones; whether they were actually hired by a shrine or even maidens was up in the air. Their third companion, a pink-haired girl (girl? She got the impression of girliness, though all were of ambiguous gender.) was staring blankly ahead, wearing a sleeveless haori with square shoulders and a purple see-through hitaikakushi. Whatever was on the youngest member's head seemed to be shifting, with little molecules mixing around the inside of it.

The gray-haired one, humming happily while bobbing their head side to side, was the only one without wearing anything offensive. It was the gigantic hat with an eyeball stitched in the center of it that made her feel uncomfortable in her own office. The brim was so gigantic that it looked like an umbrella for their companions, forcing them to slightly lean forwards so it didn't brush against the wall.

The pink one noticed Rin first. They grabbed the gray-haired one's sleeve and pointed. The gray-haired one yelled, "oh!" and grabbed the black-haired one's sleeve. Their black eyes trailed over lazily.

"Mornin'," the black-haired one said.

It was the afternoon.

She carefully made her way to her desk and sat down. No reason to be rude. Despite them being in her office for no reason, she didn't really feel threatened by them. She cleared her throat as a delaying tactic to find what she wanted to say..

"I wasn't informed that I had a meeting scheduled," she said, slightly louder than normal.

"Yeah. Prolly not. We're, uh, here 'cause of…" the black-haired one trailed off, looking around the office, before giving up with a sigh. "Honestly, not too sure about that one."

"Huh? Weren't we hired by that girl, Tsuba?" the gray-haired one asked.

Tsuba looked even more exasperated than before. "Hired?"

"...maybe I just dreamt that," the gray-haired one said.

"Yabusame's a biiiig idiot!" the pink-haired one said.

Voices usually clarified gender ambiguous people, usually, and sometimes they didn't help at all. Somehow their voices carried enough boyish roughness to not completely disqualify the girlish undertone.

She held up a palm. Usually that was enough for people to stop talking.

"Honestly. At least stick with your answers instead of immediately calling them a dream. Were we hired by a girl or not?" the black-haired one asked, irritated.

Yabusame closed their eyes, brow scrunched up, lower lip clenching down hard enough that it started to hurt. "I don't remember?"

The black-haired one sighed. "Okay. Let's say that it doesn't matter if this was a dream or not. What do you remember of it?"

"Oh! Uh…" Yabusame stopped again, going back into their 'thinking' face, starting in a hesitant cadence, "we were on a train with a girl. You were saying that we were going back to the shrine? Or at the shrine? I wasn't paying attention because there was this girl and she said we were supposed to be something. A…"

Yabusame held their chin on their fist, stumped.

"Aaaaaa…?" the pink-haired one said teasingly.

"Sensei?" Yabusame hesitatingly said.

Usually this kind of news would've made Rin squeal with glee—metaphorically, as she wasn't the type to get that excited. That was when the solution she was handed looked to be of proper make. Honed. Sharpened. Of good enough quality to be used. These were a group of people who were putting on an impromptu comedy show for her as their weird dynamic was showcased. One was the more serious deadpan snarker, another was the oblivious one, and the final one was their energetic piece.

It wasn't as if she had any better choice though. Clearing her throat, she made sure it was loud enough that it was obvious she was petitioning for their attention.

"Sensei? And I agreed to that?" the black-haired one said. Their face was scrunched up as if in pain.

"No, but they insisted! It's all kinda familiar," Yabusame said.

"Congratulations on your promotion!" the pink-haired girl yelled.

"And who said that I considered a priest to a teacher to be a promotion?" the black-haired one asked in irritation. "To achieve Enlightenment, he relaxed under a tree. Have you ever heard of a Buddha achieving Enlightenment working all day?"

All three of them jumped slightly when Rin let a book drop onto the desk. With a final clearing of her throat, she made sure to glare at each of them.

"If I heard right, you're to be the new senseis?" She resisted rubbing her forehead at the various answers. "Alright. I'm not going to question the president's judegement. What are your names?"

"Tsubakura Enraku," the black-haired one said. Their voice was hesitant. Rin supposed that they were the only one of the trio with some sort of smarts, already knowing where this was going.

"Yabusame Houlen, Rinny-chan," the gray-haired one said, much peppier. Peppier didn't necessarily mean that they were dumber but Rin got the impression that Yabusame didn't have much going on behind those dopey eyes.

Suppressing any reaction to the definite confirmation they'd met the president wasn't hard at all either, no siree.

The pink-haired one blinked, as if not sure what the question was, before yelling with a big smile, "Shion is Shion!"

Rin stood up from the desk. "Tsubakura-sensei, Yabusame-sensei, and Shion-sensei then. Please come with me. I'll explain on the way."

Normal people could be expected to follow clear orders. With these three however, after leaving the room, she actually had to poke her head back through the doorway to see them still sitting down. At her insistent stare, Tsubakura was the first one to break with a sigh and stand up. The others followed behind.

Rin noted that down in her head: Tsubakura was the one to pressure if she wanted the group to move.

More stares were appreciating them as she moved along, though the reason completely changed. If it wasn't for Yabusame and Shion making ooh's when looking around at completely normal office decor, then it was for the gigantic hat that brushed against doorways. Already Rin's mind went to planning: neither of the two stupid ones could be trusted to do the right thing. One would think a simple nature would be easier to manipulate, which was a lesson quickly beaten out of anyone operating in Kivotos. The simpler ones were more unpredictable since stepping on their shoes led to disproportionate punishment, something that you learned from dealing with the extreme eccentrics of Gehenna or Red Winter.

Of Tsubakura though? Their thoughtline was so simple that she already understood they would do whatever possible to lessen the amount of work, hopefully save for leaving the position altogether. She could work with that. She could work with people who had internal, rational lines of thought.

As they passed a wall of windows, she took the moment to raise her hand towards the horizon. While Tsubakura didn't look any more impressed than before, Yabusame and Shion were both gaping at the cityscape.

"Before we continue, I believe I should be the one to welcome you three to Kivotos," Rin said.

"It's like the outside!" Yabusame yelled.

"Oh! That's what the outside looks like? It looks," Shion's excitement fell down to a monotone stare, "kinda boring. We moving?"

They continued walking until reaching the elevators. Rin's thoughts were still on the future as they descended. Whether going by car or helicopter, there were big risks that she wasn't comfortable with. A car would struggle with the many craters and potholes that had been poked through the streets by the rampant gangs. On the other hand, going by helicopter was putting a target on the most visible, noisy thing in multiple city blocks. The Sensei (senseis, Senseis? Rin decided that would be a question answered when the city was stable.) was their most valuable resource, but there was no such thing as a riskless strategy.

A green light flashed. The doors slid open to multiple nuisances.

"Acting president! We've been waiting for a response!"

Rin's thoughts were halted as one of the time wasters yelled out on the other side of the room. She vaguely remembered one of the gnat-like secretaries mentioning that they were waiting—loitering, more like, susceptible to jail time if they had any authority at that moment to arrest them. Ignoring the vultures, she continued walking without glancing back. Neck straight, each stride mighty, surely there wasn't a person who would think to interrupt her.

A foot made her stop. The rest of the offender shuffled fully in front of her.

Sprouting from the small of her back were black wings that felt as though they could envelop the skyline when you were underneath their shadow. Many were, as she was one of the tallest students in the whole city. It made her stand out even further, to her consternation. Most could simply duck into a crowd whereas she'd be a mast amongst a sea of heads, duck under specific doorways in poorly built schools who didn't consider there were people of above-above-above average height, get gifts of clothes and not have to return them because of her abnormally gigantic everything. Blushing Thorns, Hanekawa Hasumi, her preferred gun a 1914 Enfield pointing at the ceiling because she always followed proper gun safety with her finger off the trigger and bullets lodged in her pockets.

"Don't you think it's rude ignoring us?" she said with a sigh. "We've been waiting for quite some time. The least you could do is give us an answer that the president is too busy."

"Not exalting the gifted prevents quarreling," Tsubakura murmured, a smug tinge to their tone.

"Hm? The precedent? Why is it too busy?" Yabusame asked.

Another one of the annoyances decided to flank her, a white-haired girl, looking positively confused by the additions. She was usually stoic, even more so with the way that students expressed themselves. It was the attitude that a person who kept the peace needed to have. Imagine interrogating a person who was practically wearing a bikini in public or consoling a person who decided that head to toe beige was their color or—the most common—not taking a person she was shooting at seriously because they wore literal shackles as a fashion statement. There needed to be a pretty big break for her to decide that an article of clothing needed to be stared at, and the hat was breaking through any measure of acceptability. Any ability of her to claim to be completely rational was ruined with a hand that had been hovering over a flashbang since Rin had entered. Mood as Fickle as the Law, Morizuki Suzumi, her preferred gun, a SIG MCX, pointed at the floor. Her favorite pair of headphones she wore on patrol were currently hanging around her neck.

"And so the acting president reveals herself alongside plenty of extras. Dialogue prevents any sort of quarreling. I would think that your neighboring academies have the right to know any big moves that your office is making, or at least why the president has considered herself too busy to quell the unrest," Suzumi said.

"So even here there's a dictator!?" Shion said.

Another person completed the maneuver by appearing at Rin's right side. Blocked from every angle, with the trio of idiots not sensing the situation and preventing an escape by going back into the elevator. This one was a girl more annoyed at the prospect of this chaos continuing eating up on everyone's normalcy. She liked her position, she was proud of her work, which didn't extend to getting caught in explosions and working overtime every single day. She also liked to consider herself the most stylish of any room that she was in; her peach hair flowed immaculately down her shoulders in thick pigtails, above a fancier blouse which contrasted against her black skirt and red tights. Hanging off her shoulder was a bag nearly as big as she was loaded to the brim of medical supplies. Nine to Five Enforcer, Hinomiya Chinatsu, proud owner of a Mauser C96 that was currently stuffed next to a pack of bandages and adrenaline. She skeptically looked over each of the additions behind Rin. They stood like a flock, heads bouncing from each new face.

"I don't believe that's the right way to describe the president," she tentatively said.

"No, in this situation it'd be apt. She'd scare away those with too much time on her hands and restore order to the streets. Both require a certain personality that we're obviously lacking at the moment." Rin locked eyes with each of the irate girls, not even bothering to look chastised. "To be honest, we haven't seen the president for quite some time. To be even more frank? She's gone missing. We have no control over the Sanctum Tower."

The girls took their turns gasping. Chinatsu had the most dramatic response, actually closing her eyes and looking away as if she were watching a car crash.

"So the General Student Council has stood idle this entire time?" Hasumi sharply said.

Rin was quick to retort, even if her tone wasn't as fiery. It's not like she felt threatened by flies that buzzed on her cheeks. "On the contrary, we've been working tirelessly to try and regain control of it. It's only just now that we've made progress."

"So you have a way to access the tower again? Am I understanding right?" Suzumi asked.

Rin stepped slightly aside, brushing aside a piece of hair. It took a lot out of her having to make a brazen statement like she was about to.

"These are our solutions standing before us. Meet Tsubakura-sensei, Yabusame-sensei, and Shion-sensei. They've been hand chosen by the president herself, and will become teachers. Please give them the respect that they're afforded, and no more than that," Rin said.

"Already?" Tsubakura choked out as if they were being stabbed.

To Rin's utter astonishment, even Yabusame seemed to agree with the sentiment. She had begged the gray-haired one to be a cheerful airhead yet it seemed that the bug of laziness had bit them both.

"I am a teacher!" Shion yelled.

Coming from the cheap seats in the back was the final contestant with a steel chair and champion's belt sashaying. Usually she was the type to lead this kind of charge, but had been content when Rin had finally been corralled. Not so much anymore; she budged past the other representatives, ignoring their annoyed grunts. She was the most able one amongst them to settle into order, which played along with Millennium being in the best shape of the surrounding territories. Her blue hair flowed against her suit and reacted with every single movement that her head made. She liked looking important, and made sure that every detail looked effortless, usually going so far as to style her hair as if there were strands that had slipped from the hair ties. In recent days, these split ends and strays became unintentional. The Cold and Calculating Treasurer, Hayase Yuuka, fond of using two MPXs because she felt awesome firing two guns at once.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she yelled, fists clenched in front of her. "This one looks like they're younger than me! What are they going to teach? What baby food is the most nutritional!?"

"Oooh, speaking of, you smell tasty!" Shion said.

Yuuka shivered from surprise. "W-What!?"
"Now that you mention it, Yuuka does smell good!" Yabusame said. "Like a bunch of old paper money!"

"Or a bank teller!" Shion continued.

"Coins that you've held for a long time!"

"A merchant!"

"Some sort of wealth?" Tsubakura interjected.

"I wanna have a bite!" Shion yelled.

The girls who weren't being compared to whatever came to their minds awkwardly waited until the duo were done. Suzumi leaned over and sniffed Yuuka, getting lightly slapped on the head by the embarrassed girl.

"Not to doubt your judgement, but could we have some reasoning as to why we're left with this little of an explanation, acting president?" Hasumi asked

"The president herself hand-picked them. What we say no longer has any bearing on reasoning," Rin said. She turned to the senseis, with her arms folded underneath her chest. "Here's the situation: you three are to become advisors in the Federal Investigation Club: Schale. Do not be fooled by the name. Schale is a club that can hire any student across the entire city and has precedent to act in most situations. It can be seen as an extrajudicial organization, one that's sorely needed when battle activities may be had under any academy's jurisdiction."

"Oh! That sounds familiar! Extra Judy Shawl! That's what we were as priests, right, Tsubakura?" Yabusame asked.

"Along with being the mediators for fights, this does sound eerily familiar. You'd think that no more than a single place would have a system this horrible," Tsubakura said.

"I quite like it, personally. It conveys your feelings quickly," Chinatsu said.

"There's places that don't fight?" Suzumi wondered out loud.

The conversation had drifted so many times that Rin could feel the seconds of the city, her life, tick down.

"So you have experience with this sort of work?" Rin asked.

"We literally did this kind of stuff last week! Point us straight to where we have to eat!" Shion said.

"Fight. Not eat. Shion meant fight," Tsubakura quickly corrected.

Rin looked around at all the puzzle pieces laying around her. There were the senseis who claimed they were used to acting extrajudicially yet had personalities that couldn't be trusted changing a lightbulb; there were four annoyances who were going to continuously pester her for some other faux outrage that their superiors would think up; an entire city outside was between here and there that could 'accidentally' shoot down their precious cargo before they could finish the mission.

An idea. She called up their pilot already having a way to score away all her problems. That the pilot denied them transportation didn't change anything other than the new crack on her phone and prolonging the inevitable.

Fires raged through the entire city.

Yuuka's back pressed against the tipped over semi truck. Peeking around the corner forced her to instantly retract when bullets patterned the pavement. She could hear at least half the magazine being emptied into the car too, stopping just shy of poking her back. Sticking her gun out to get a few potshots was just wasting ammo but she still continued doing it. It felt better than standing around like a whimpering puppy.

She looked over to all her temporary allies. Everybody was in a similar position to herself. Since the ambush was so well executed, nobody had time to scramble towards the more secure alleyways. Instead cars which were being chipped away with every shot were all they had time to dive for. It was the absolute worst for Hasumi, whose larger body made her have to uncomfortably lie down on her belly, hoping that the tipped-over trash can continued to hold.

The last members of their little party were actually next to her. Tsubakura was sitting on a bent piece of metal perfectly shaped into a stool, eyes closed as if there weren't metal whizzing above their head. The other two were content playing patty cake while sitting on the road.

"What're you three doing so close to the fighting!? Don't you have any idea how dangerous this spot is!?" Yuuka screeched.

The only sign she was heard was Tsubakura taking a deep breath.

"Do you think that we've ever seen anybody quite this skilless, Yabusame?"

"Oh!" Yabusame sniffed the air. It made them lose a clap, ending the game. Seventy-four rounds. "They're stuck here? I see what you mean."

"You're talking about them being stuck on the tiny ones, right? No leader or nothing around here. It's pretty sad, yeah," Shion said.

Yuuka could hear her heartbeat pick up. Gritting her teeth in irritation, both her guns flicked downwards as her bureaucratic composure melted. "Oh yeah? If you're so great, come deal with these 'tiny ones' for us then. Oh, wait! You're the ones without the halos. So if you've got any great plans for those of us with halos, then I'm waiting to hear it, sensei!"

"No thanks," Tsubakura said. They shifted a little in their seat, finding that a little divot was making their right cheek ache. "Always hated dealing with bullets. They leave bruises."

"You usually don't get hit by them though?" Yabusame suggested.

Tsubakura scoffed. "I'd rather leave it to 'never getting shot' than 'may be getting shot', thank you."

"A bullet that bruises? Like, a bullet bullet or is there some other kind of bullet?" Shion asked.

Tsubakura nudged one of the casings on the ground with their toe. Casual, not caring about the heat that slipped past their socks.

"S'here. Those weapons that're making all that racket are flinging metal at us." Their black eyes turned to Yuuka. "Nevermind about that. I'd rather love to hear about those halos you have. You know anything about their mechanics? You're a student, after all."

Noticing a lull in the barrage, a great crow rose from her cover and dead sprinted across the empty lanes separating her from the others. Magazines were switched out and curses exchanged. Soon enough the enemy had recovered, not even bothering to aim down their sights before spraying down the avenue. Training had colored her life down to the reactions. Ducking low as she dashed, pieces of rubble were used to leapfrog closer to the semi truck that they were arguing behind. Pieces of her hair were shaved off by the many close calls that whizzed around her. The final stretch was cleared by her sliding low, back skidding on the ground as last second jerks recentered the bullets to drum against the car's plastic.

Yabusame clapped when she stood up at the end of the slide. With a wave, she ducked down so her scalp didn't get new battle scars.

"I believe that there's better things to talk about than research at the moment," Hasumi said. Her brow furrowed when Shion started sniffing her wing. "May I help you?"

Shion's nose pressed just a little closer, making the wing twitch when they briefly brushed against each other. "You smell good too!"

Cautiously, Hasumi's other wing slowly rose up. Her hand gently grasped the very edge of it to lift it just a little closer, allowing her to bend down and sniff it herself. Nothing. She let it drop back down and nodded.

"Thank you," Hasumi said, accepting the compliment as sincere.

"Can we stop wasting time? I don't know if any of you noticed but," Yuuka swung one of her guns wildly, "we're currently being fired at! And—"

A grenade flew straight over the cover and bounced at Tsubakura's feet. They locked eyes with Yuuka. Despite the situation, she hesitated a moment just to see what their new sensei would do. Surely they'd move if their life was in danger. Surely there'd be something other than that deadpan snarkiness when there was an armed explosive dangling at their feet. At least an exclamation, an 'eep' that would break that complete nonchalance with the fight, some kind of vindication for calling Yuuka incompetent. None of that happened, of course. Those inky black eyes just seemed to be asking why she hadn't moved yet, crossed legs bouncing in impatience.

She dived forwards and grabbed the grenade. In the same movement it was tossed straight back over the semi. None of them even bothered politely shielding their faces when the explosion happened In fact, the conversation barely lost a beat.

"You're the sensei! Do something!" Yuuka yelled at Tsubakura.

Yabusame seemed surprised. "Me?"

"No! Well, yes! Anybody! It doesn't even have to be Sensei!" Yuuka said.

Another lull in bullets happened. Trigger discipline wasn't commonly on any curriculum. More magazines were popped in, this time much hastier. Nothing could be described as hasty when compared to the star student however. With a two seconds counter under her breath, her head poked out with the muscles necessary already tensed. The sprint started, full body leaning into the run. Learning from their previous incompetence, a few grenades intending to stop her from rejoining the others were thrown in her path. Most were kicked out of the way as she kept the momentum. Some of the hooligans had to stop shooting and nod in respect at the athleticism.

She slid and righted herself in the exact same way.

"Is that move taught or something?" Yabusame asked.

"No applause for her?" Hasumi asked.

"Yours had better form."

After leaning back from surprise, Hasumi had to look away so that her blush was a little less obvious.

"Enough of that. Are we collaborating or competing? We've got no strategy here. I've heard more yelling over here than shooting," Suzumi said.

"Look, I was told that this would basically be a vacation. You four deal with the small fry, we get to be VIPs, and everything works out," Tsubakura said. "Didn't Ms. Prim and Proper say that we should stay back too? Far as I see it, we're doing our job."

"But Tsuba, I'm getting bored," Yabusame said.

"Me too," Shion said.

They yawned together. The stifled yawn that came from Suzumi finally made Yuuka snap.
"Then help us! You've got to have something in mind!" Yuuka yelled.

With a sigh, Tsubakura adjusted themselves on their seat. "You're going to pester us until we're done here, aren't you? Geeze, fine. You. Crow wings. Why aren't you further back? On top of something? Not anywhere near here?"

Hasumi had to take a second to realize that she was being talked to. "Hm? Because our objectives are to make sure that you're safe and escort you to the tower. So we should be the ones in front of you."

"Okay. What weapon do you have?"

They all looked at the weapon dangling from her hands.

"A sniper?" she answered. Most wouldn't hold themselves back from answering that rhetorically. Rhetorically answering a question didn't even cross her mind.

"Okay. So what does a sniper do?"
"Shion knows! It's sniping!" Shion yelled.

"Right. Sniping. Which you generally don't do when you're nose to nose with whoever's shooting at you. But you can't move back to cover when they're firing at us. So let's count the stream of bullets. If I can—"

"Oh! Oh! I'll do it! I'll do it!"

Yabusame stuck their pinky out from cover. It quickly retracted as lead started lighting up from every direction. Doing the same strategy at another angle had the same thing happen. It felt dangerous, but the girls were now watching in horrified confusion.

Tsubakura let go of the breath they were holding. "That's five. Two further down the street to my left, one to my right, another at a higher vantage point straight ahead, and one that most likely is firing from a rooftop to the left."
"How'd you figure that out!?" Yuuka yelled.

Before the lecture could continue, Shion's voice yelled over Tsubakura's. "Wrong!"

"There's six, Tsuba~," Yabusame said. Their grin was dopey, though the smugness was undeniable. "There's another one right next to the one straight ahead."

Tsubakura didn't even acknowledge them. "Whatever. You, the blue-haired one."

"My name's—"

"The Cold and Calculating Treasurer!" Shion yelled.

Yuuka's eyes turned wide, tears gathering at the edges. "Wah! Why do even newcomers know that name!?"

"There's something about you that…" Suzumi trailed off.

"It's, um…" Hasumi trailed off too.

"Hey!"

The group looked around before realizing that it wasn't their missing member, Chinatsu, or a sudden newcomer shouting. One of the people who were firing, motorcycle helmet covering her face like the other thugs, was letting their firearm hang to the side, exasperated. This person wasn't deserving of either a title nor for their name to be known as their greatest achievement at this point was being one of four in their school to win an eating competition.

She raised her arms wide. "Are we fighting or what? You just stopped shooting!"

It was also the same one that Tsubakura had missed.

"I guess their bullets mixed in with the other person. That was sloppy of me," Tsubakura said.

"Wait, you were actually counting their bullets!? Does that mean you knew where they were just by looking at the bullet's trajectories?" Yuuka exclaimed. "What the heck kind of people did the president get!? Are you actually adults!?"

Suzumi pressed a knuckle against her lips. "Are adults known to count bullet trajectories?"

"Most adults that I've met can, but Shion thinks that most of the people Shion knows are weirdos," Shion said.

"No, that can't be true." Hasumi's expression turned disturbed. "I think that isn't true."

On the other side of the battlefield, the enemies were getting impatient as their opponents didn't respond. The other gang member next to motorcycle helmet, happy that she was unique among her comrades with her ski mask, finally lowered her gun until it was pointing at the ground.

"They're not even taking us seriously enough to fire back," she said glumly.

Motorcycle helmet did a double take to her comrade. "What!? No! We have them on the ropes and they're just realizing that it's futile to try escaping!"

"Are they? Let's see for ourselves."

She waved over one of the people taking cover behind a road divider. After a lot of waving, the girl finally jumped over their cover and ran. They were fond of their bright blue motorcycle helmet, with little holes personally cut in them for the fox ears to stick out.

"Yo."

"What're they talking about?" ski mask asked.

Their ears twitched. Fur brushed against the plastic. "They're talking about the technique for counting bullets."

"We're just practice for them!?"

"They really aren't taking us seriously…"

It was devastating enough that motorcycle helmet's knees started buckling. She drooped, barrel of her gun dragging against the pavement as she turned away.

"Let's just go…"
There was another team member who was sitting behind a car much further down the street. She'd been trying to poke out for single shots, having to withdraw when the entire gang turned their fire towards her.

It was when she poked out without getting shot that the thugs' presences were missed. The entire top layer of asphalt around her cover looked like an army of chipmunks had bitten away at it. Metal debris spread around like caltrops surrounded her. Her feet swept aside the bullets before stepping, repeating the process until she had caught up with the rest of the group. Everybody was crouching down in a circle with their weapons loosely hanging as if the fight already was over.

It was, but Chinatsu doubted they knew that.

"I find it doubtful that you could train to see bullets," Suzumi said, frowning deeply. "It's physically impossible for the human eye to track them."

"Quite often 'physically impossible' could be substituted as 'lacking skill," Tsubakura said.

Shion sniffed the air, letting out a bemused smirk. "Eh? Seems like you were wrong. There's nobody here."
"I'm not sure why, but they've indeed left," Chinatsu said, finally speaking up. She refused to be squatting like the rest of them were. That would imply some sort of camaraderie with the people who couldn't shoot straight. "May we leave? I'd like to get back and have a shower sooner rather than later."

"...are you mad? You sound mad," Yabusame said.

"I'm not mad."

"She's mad," Shion confirmed.

"I'm not mad."

"Why are you mad?" Yuuka smugly asked.

"I fear for the future of Kivotos if nobody can listen to simple responses," Chinatsu said.

Suzumi stood up, stomping her feet around as if it were her first time walking. "Not that I don't like arguing for no reason, but I'd also like to be home at a reasonable time."

"We're all in agreement to keep moving?" Hasumi asked.

"I just don't understand why they left," Yuuka said. "I have a bad feeling about this. It could've been to regroup, refill their ammo, reunite with a larger force. Ugh. With that pathetic performance back there. This battle activity has been unsatisfying."

"Maybe they just left because you four were so boring to shoot at?" Tsubakura suggested.

"Shion recommends that you try fighting back next time~!" Shion yelled.

As if remembering that they had an audience again, Yuuka shut her eyes to try blocking out their stares. "And to give a performance in front of our senseis. What a shameful display."

"So far they haven't given much reason to be respected either," Chinatsu groused.

"May I repeat that we're arguing uselessly? At least it'd be better for us to argue while walking than standing around here trying to pass the blame around," Suzumi said.

"Softness overcomes hardness, don't you know?" Tsubakura said, ignoring Suzumi. Their hands wrapped around their hat's rim as they tilted it downwards. "Trying to gather respect would be an absurd waste of time."

"I'm not sure what that quote has to do with this situation," Hasumi said.

It took around ten minutes for Rin to check in and yell at them to continue moving.

An explosion shook the entire building. 'Collateral damage'. That was a term that Tsubakura was unused to thinking about. Firing spells around technically could cause that ugly term, but it was much rarer than most would think, especially since half the battles they've done were in places nobody cared about. The answer to if a tree makes a sound if nobody is around is no, because nobody cared about the consequences, especially if the sound wasn't all that ugly. Think of collateral damage in the same terms.

So feeling the entire building's foundations shake as they were walking to the basement was a novel feeling. Certainly there were more awe-inspiring feats than a tank manned by a couple of idiots blasting holes inside a moderately expensive looking skyscraper though

Another blast. The ceiling seemed to question if it was going to crack until the walls stopped shaking.

"Should we have left it to them? They seemed to have a lot of trouble," Yabusame asked.

They didn't get great directions of where to go once entering the front door so they were wandering around as usual.

"It's fine, isn't it? We're their potential bosses anyways," Tsubakura said. Humming a happy tune, they turned down a hallway that they'd already passed by.

"A live job interview!" Shion yelled. Her voice echoed down the hallway.

"...I don't remember any of my job interviews being this deadly," Yabusame said.

"I don't remember you ever having a job." Tsubakura tugged on Shion's shoulder, trying to ignore the purple flames that danced around their fingers. "Are you sure you're leading us to the basement?"

"I definitely smell something. It's near. Nearer. Nearer." Finally, they turned around a corner where there was a long line of doors. She pointed towards the second to last one. "That's where the smell is coming from. Definitely where the basement is."
"Or it's just trouble," Tsubakura said. Nevertheless, they walked up and pressed a button. The door slid open.

Looking, thinking, either or made the building seem more intimidating to the average person when they stopped for a moment. Walk straight through and it's as if you're in a normal office. Only when the details become less fuzzy does the place become more bizarre. An entire thirty floors of nothing. If you were in the 27th floor then there would be square miles worth of land without another person. Yet the lights still worked—too well even. The concept of a dark corner wasn't known when shining lights were plastered at every spare spot in the ceiling that could be afforded. Even the basement was so well lit that a single speck of dust could be spotted, and it was here that another quirk of Schale became known.

"Well I'll be."

Tsubakura entered the room. From the platform was a staircase that led down into the main floor of the basement. The most obvious was what looked to be a monolith floating above a blue platform, chunks that were once attached to the greater structure bobbing slightly as if floating on the ocean. Books and envelopes from previous years were neatly organized in the many bookshelves that the area had. These were intended by an employee a lifetime ago (three weeks) to teach the new hires what form their reports would look like; meanwhile every member there was thinking of dumping the entire thing clean so they could put their own reading material inside.

New visions were being superimposed into the place. Yabusame held their fingers and framed the room like a director, imagining a future where there may be a kotatsu instead of a normal table in the center. Whatever advanced technology Kivotos had adopted made the room feel perfectly temperature controlled, though they weren't taking chances and considered putting a heater in the corner of the room. Meanwhile, Tsubakura was accurately memorizing the room's dimensions to make sure that their desired furniture would fit. Research materials would be stored on a bench about 1.5 x 1 while perhaps another bench that was around 1.5 x 2 would be where the actual work would happen. Though some level of privacy would be needed in case the Kivotos people (-ites? -ans?) walked in. Didn't need most of the furniture. In fact, the furniture could be sold so their more exotic materials could be bought, since it was expected that the pay was going to be awful.

Shion was much more focused on the present. A woman in a kimono with a rifle slung over her shoulders was standing next to the staircase's foot, looking around as if trying to find something. Her mask's plastic snout worked around like a dowsing rod.

"It's trouble and the basement," Shion said. The sleazy smile would've creeped any normal person out if they saw it.

"And you're just absolutely ecstatic about that, aren't you?" Tsubakura said with a groan.

Her head tilted upwards. Whatever expression she had was hidden behind a stylized mask of a fox. Yabusame wondered if the person was a janitor.

Eventually they started getting impatient.

"Helloooooo?" Tsubakura broached.

"Um…"

"Maybe she got lost?" Yabusame suggested.

"A pretty specific place to get lost in," Tsubakura said dully.

"...they're definitely some kind of lost right now," Shion said, grin losing its malicious edge.

Tsubakura's eyebrow twitched. "We've met another weirdo, haven't we?"

"Definitely closer to 'weirdo' than 'normal person'," Shion said.

Yabusame turned to the figure who was still just looking at them. "Maybe we need to include them into the conversation? They might be shy!"

The figure visibly leapt when addressed. Tsubakura rolled their eyes, looking down at them.

"Fine. Let's include them into our conversation about them being a weirdo." Tsubakura whistled, waving, anything to show they were talking to the figure. "Hello, person who may be a weirdo. Can we get a name? If your name is related to a bird, then we'd know if you're weird."

"Which way? Would they be weird or not if they had a bird name?" Yabusame asked.

"Now, now. Life is better with a little bit of mystery."

It took them another awkward silence before realizing that the girl was, in fact, still there and, still awkwardly, staring at them. Tsubakura whistled again. The girl suddenly burst into movement. It almost seemed as if she were gliding up the steps with how fast they were being tackled.

"S-Sorry, I've got to go!" she yelled.

The three of them pressed against the rail to make room for the girl rushing out of the room.

Tsubakura, glaring at her back while holding down the brim of their hat to make sure it didn't fall, smacked down their outfit with a huff. "Guess we've got the answer to that."

"Sorry-san left so abruptly."

"Let's just get this day over with," Tsubakura said, not taking the first step still. "I'd like to see our sleeping arrangements. While this room is nice—"

"You felt like this room was nice too!?" Yabusame yelled.

"I did too. Is this some kind of magic? I don't smell anything here. Maybe it's some kind of artifact? Or a spell? One of those borders?" Shion asked.

"I don't smell a border. It could be some kind of treasure. Oh! Are we finally going to get a treasure?"

"You two are being—"

Their conversation stopped when the door behind them suddenly slammed open. Yes, though it was automatic, the person had physically pried it open with their fingers in their frustration. Rin's chest was heaving from the exertion that she just went through. Most students in Kivotos were conditioned in some way for the manual side of life through battle activities, but it was another matter running while trying not to get blown up.

It would also be pertinent to mention that the tank hadn't stopped firing at all. The first few floors of the building had long lost their windows. Every so often the lights flickered as an earthquake rumbled through the circuitry.

Rin took a second to adjust her clothes and catch her breath before registering the whole room. Empty, surprisingly undamaged from the tank, and the idiots were still standing on the top flight. The most important artifact was still down in its proper space at the bookshelf. Everything was alright.

Another blast nearly made her trip over the railing. If a shot slips through a broken window, then that would be another untold thousands in damages.

"Did you not find it pertinent to make sure the tank was dealt with before coming in here?" Rin asked. The irritation that had previously been reserved for the nuisances was starting to extend towards the senseis.

"The blue-haired one told us that they didn't need us to stick around. Wasn't about to argue with her. Though," Tsubakura frowned, rubbing their forearms, "I feel kind of unsatisfied now."

Realizing that was the best she was going to get, she came down the steps and walked straight towards their objective. Ignore the flickering lights. Ignore how the senseis still weren't coming down. She had to walk back up with the tablet clearly gesturing towards them and they still tried ignoring her. Shoving the black screen into Tsubakura's face finally got them to stop staring into the distance.

"This is what the president left behind for you: the Shittim Chest."

Tsubakura dully looked at it. "It's a tablet."

"It may seem so, but its exact nature is a mystery. No known manufacturer, OS, structure, even down to the components. It's a complete unknown. The president specifically said that you could take control of the tower with it," Rin said.

Another rumble was the last straw. Yabusame let out a soft "oof" as the tablet was shoved against their chest. Their hands wrapped around its cold exterior out of reaction as Rin already started stomping away. She walked out the door the very second it opened.

A heel slid back to stop the door from fully closing, allowing her to turn around with her face set fully impassive.

"We haven't figured out how to activate that. Hopefully you'll have better luck accessing it than we did. If you can, then transfer the control of Sanctum Tower into the hands of the General Student Council. Please make the right decision. Now, I have to go back and make sure that the lobbyists, since their weak wrists apparently extend to having an inability to hold down the triggers to their guns. I think I'll have to guide them myself or else they'd shoot at each other more. If there's any problems, then there's nobody that can help. We'd be doomed."

The door shut.

"What a drama queen~," Shion said.

Tsubakura pried it from Yabusame's hands, looking over the plain design. Truly it was unremarkable, its unremarkableness including not having an identifying logo. Nothing else to do than turn it on, as there weren't any buttons besides the power one. There was a long activation sequence that made them conclude that the whole ruling class of Kivotos had an affair with the dramatic.

Tsubakura didn't let it show, but chills ran down their spine as they were finally given a moment of thought. Yabusame's brainless musing was right: the whole situation did have creepy parallels. A dictator whisking them away into a foreign land who was carelessly powerful and liked unnecessary things. The land casually descended into chaos when there wasn't a dictator, and would most likely become a state of controlled anarchy once there was. Already a timeline was made in their head: things stabilize on the surface, previously suppressed good and bad elements vie for their time in the sunlight since the power had been imbalanced, leading to greater consequences as the half-baked solutions that are merely reacting to these sudden threats could never fully solve the issues, and the issues snowball until an end-of-normalcy scenario fully developed.

Tsubakura concluded not to overthink it. Going with the flow mostly worked last time.

Finally the tablet ended the loading process and entered into a login screen.

"System password?" Tsubakura looked at the others. "Has anybody mentioned a system password?"

Yabusame perked up. "No, but the president mentioned a password."

"And I s'pose you don't even remember?" Tsubakura asked.

Realizing that there was a problem, Yabusame tried quirking their lips and giving a thumbs up. "I do?"

"Douuuubt," Shion said.

Yabusame pouted. "It's not fair when you read my emotions, Shion-chan."

Tsubakura started tapping random words on the screen with the vague hope that it'd autofill in. That sounded the sort of quirky system a dictator with too much time on their hands would do (because who else would ever think it was necessary to figure out how to broach into other dimensions just to bring outsiders to take a leadership position?).

Their hand paused. 'We'. 'We' unlocked something. Not on the tablet, in their head. Their fingers played against the rest of the keyboard without actually tapping the keys. An entire sentence was typed out. Grim. Some kind of prophecy perhaps. Since they were supposed to be the ones to unlock the tablet in the first place, Tsubakura assumed it was a direct message from the president herself.

Whatever theorizing they could've done was taken away. One second they were there, the next they weren't.

The vast expanse of water stretched from one artificial horizon to the other. Whatever place they were wasn't exactly another dimension—they all weren't naive enough to believe that—so there was no doubt that it was artificial in some capacity. The simulation was beyond realistic though, with the waves ebbing back without a flaw to be seen and the sun being too bright for them to stare directly at. Little waves of water came from their steps around the dilapidated classroom. Only the bare necessities for it to be identified as a classroom were around, the tables tipped over and piled together around the tiny island of concrete.

Every now and then a more violent wave would splash against the classroom's walls before fading into an eerie silence. It made the light snoring and murmuring much more noticeable. It was a scene right out of the nightmare: three strangers leering around the desk with strange accessories inside a surreal environment, surrounding a pure angel who would manifest inside a nightmare.

One of them poked her cheek.

Shion curiously shook hands with one of the arms that sprouted from their back. Limbs extended from their back with the same color and consistency as their hitaikakushi. Normally they wouldn't move around like normal arms, instead waving with the slightest of breezes before reassuming their original consistency. Looking too close would give you a headache. While the headdress was normal enough, the limbs floated like bubbles in space while having some sort of viscosity to remain together. And that wasn't getting into the cornucopia of other instruments that were vague silhouettes of things that may exist.

Tsubakura edged away when grapes got in their face. "I thought we trained you not to bring those out when we've left the shrine."

"Arf arf! Like a dog!" Yabusame said.

Shion looked back, seeming just as surprised as them. "Huh. Didn't even feel like they were out. Must be something with this place."

"Where are we anyways?" Tsubakura asked.

"I don't know but your smell is..." Shion thought for a second before sniffing again.

"Oh! Now that you mention it, everybody lost their smells," Yabusame noted. "I don't know what Kawaguchi-chan even smells like."

"Kawaguchi…" Tsubakura thought for a few moments before finally humming. "I see. Not the worst."

"Ehehe. I'm being praised~."

"It really isn't clever at all, not funny either," Shion groused.

"Small steps. If we can wean Yabusame into jokes that make sense then we can eventually recover the depths that their humor has fallen," Tsubakura said.

"This coming from the person that thinks mangling proverbs is funny?"

"I think the hardest I've ever seen Tsuba laugh is when I flew into a tree."

Instead of discouraging them, Tsubakura let out a little smirk. "See? The first step of being a student is recognizing where the master stands. If you hate a master, then you'll hate their techniques."
"Laaaaame," Shion said.

"Call my humor lame again and—meh. Why do I even try doing threats with you two? I've used all my best material already since you're such troublemakers," Tsubakura said.

"Woah. Tsubakura can run out of insults!" Yabusame yelled.

It wasn't as if she were trying to listen in. After the first nudge she'd already been waking up. Out of the paradise of sugars and sweets into the cruelness of reality where people had strange conversations over her sleeping body. Was that polite? Even though they had gone through the trouble of opening the Shittim Chest, the very last step of actually waking her was forgotten as their conversation meandered about nothing at all.

"I don't think that Harujion has the power to give you an intimate knowledge of sake like you're saying," Tsubakura said.

"Prolly not. Good thing I've got the combined memories of thousands inside of me. I'd say that I know more about sake than you do," Shion said.

"Improbable."

"Why are you making a competition out of it? You're digging your heels in real nicely over there."

"Am I supposed to be gracious in losing to a newborn? As far as I remember, we won our duel."
"With help."

"...with help," Tsubakura admitted.

"With help~!" Yabusame chimed.

Just getting straight up after pretending to be asleep for so long would make her embarrassed. She didn't want to look like she'd been eavesdropping even if they didn't say anything important!

Yet it was impossible for her to sit still. That meant waiting until they remembered she was sitting there.

The chairs around her screeched as they took more comfortable positions.

"S'why're'ey using guns here? Now that I think about it, I don't remember a single person flying either," Yabusame said.

"Ignoring those poor words that you just mangled together, it's been a while. I'm not sure if you remember it too well, but we were considered oddities in the outside world too," Tsubakura said. "S'fine'ough. Just not gonna fly around here so we don't get any strange looks."

"You sure you can accuse anyone else of butchering words?" Shion teased.

"And didja see how Rin was looking at us? I think that we're not gonna be avoiding those weird stares anywhere!"

"Which one was Rin?" Tsubakura asked.

"...I think she was the first one?" Shion tried. "The one with the black hair? She smelled sharp."

"Like papercuts."

"Overdue papers?"

"Time!"

"Tantalizing," Tsubakura groused.

She finally couldn't take it anymore. Faking a yawn, she rose up from the desk that had a little pool of slobber on it long dried. It was a genuine sleep even though she was an AI. How the mechanics of that worked were beyond her, as were the hidden components on her own hardware and the hidden niches that were inside her programming. She knew that she was conscious, but not alive. It didn't really bother her though. She was the Illusive and Sugar Coated Second Banana, Arona, technically without a weapon because she had no need for one, and proud of it.

It took her much longer to muster the will to ask the question she'd been eagerly waiting for than it should've been. Partially because it didn't even fit anymore with an entire three people shoving themselves into her bedroom.

"Which one of you is Sensei?" Arona asked.

With a sigh, Tsubakura turned to Yabusame. One hand was a fist, the other a palm. The fist rested above the palm.

"I call chores."

"So do I. Rock."

"What about me?" Shion asked.

"Guard dog!" Yabusame confirmed.

Tsubakura lost. They weren't very happy about it. If Arona were being honest, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel when they were looking dead in her eyes, completely unamused as their fingers touched.

She wasn't sure if the outside world was going to be fine when these people were in charge.

Chapter Text

If the president saw what they had done with the basement, she would've laughed. If Rin saw what they did with the basement, there would've been a seething anger quickly smothered by her rationalizing that it wasn't her office, not everything needed to lack personality, but at least people shouldn't combine their break room with their workspace. Past that, in the real world, nobody thought much about how the Schale sign had gotten relocated to a random door to a random hallway. It became their de facto hangout/work room/research area/break room/bedroom, mostly being used as a break room as they weren't the type to

Everything that was in their visions was carried out. First came carrying out all the furniture. Bookshelves, tables, that weird floating thing were all relocated into another room that was 'less nice', and to vindicate a theory of Tsubakura's that the furniture had some sort of spell; they were slightly annoyed when even the bare room was still nice. Recruiting students had solved the problems of movers, at least. Most were questionably enthusiastic about getting to move around heavy lugs of furniture.

Once everything was moved out, they got to the most important work that they'd actually be enthusiastic about doing: shopping. New furniture soon filled their room with a little bit personalized for each of them. It was an addicting feeling of having a real paycheck and a room that they were allowed customizing. Many stores became their best friends overnight after selling a lucrative amount of items to the newest heavy hitters in town, getting new drinking buddies in the process.

The kotatsu was the centerpiece that needed an entire day of debate and browsing to figure out which one would fit them the best. Electric or charcoal? At the end of the day, everybody had switched their positions so many times that they couldn't even remember what they were originally arguing for. It ended up being left for the shopkeepers. Apparently traditional styles were all the rage in Kivotos. So they got an electric one. They then opted to get a popular band's poster that would be above their beds, as a bit of an ironic jab.

Just to make sure that their kotatsu would always see some sort of use, they also got fans that would be at all four corners of the room when the summer hit.

Beds lined against the wall. Yabusame wanted them all to match and also wanted a bed and also dug their heels when the others tried arguing against that. So beds. Fashion in the city was much more modern than any of them were comfortable with, yet Shion had convinced them that blending in would be better (not mentioning that she simply wanted to wear new clothes). The dressers were full of trendier designs that matched the same palette as their usual clothes. Tsubakura and Yabusame ended up just washing their clothes everyday while Shion happily started wearing a sundress.

Finally came the entertainment: television was something Yabusame dearly missed and always had running in front of their kotatsu's side, towards the basement's entrance. Shion wanted to try everything she could and made it a point through buying different hobbyist gear. Legos were by far her favorite, becoming a distraction that she enjoyed when not gnawing on Tsubakura. Their own, when not getting gnawed on, was a workbench in the corner of the room. Medical curtains were set up around a perimeter so that nobody could find what's inside at a glance. The others habitually infiltrated the place when they were bored and habitually got whacked with a bat that got its own privileged place next to Tsubakura's side.

Every so often they'd take Arona out so that she could watch television with Yabusame. At first she was annoyed by the slovenly nature of the basement but eventually learned to loosen up; it was the only way that she'd keep her sanity when those around her were more stubborn than rocks. She never was too bothered that she was different since none of the others questioned it. What the heck? A lazy genius with some kind of chicanery happening within their body, a lazy airhead who had some kind of natural ability that allowed them to effectively carry food around no matter where in the city they were, Shion, were the perfect company for a sentient AI to watch detective movies with.

That was how every day went in their little paradise until the door slammed open—figuratively. Automatic.

Yuuka walked in with the same pace that she kept everywhere else. Tight ships were all over the city. Cutthroat as it was, organizations sank when they had no way to pull themselves up. Some were lucky enough that they never had to experience being in a sinking ship—enter Yuuka. She alone could pull any group of people into their best selves. At least if they could handle her rather domineering personality.

And if that personality was allowed to actually work.

"Are you three still lounging around!?" Yuuka yelled.

She walked down the steps waiting for anybody to answer her. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear when Yabusame looked up from their bowl of rice with remnants of the dish sticking on the sides of their mouth.

"Yuuuka!" Shion yelled.

"At least you've finally remembered my name," Yuuka said, not leaving any sort of emotion in her tone. Was she happy? Was that something she should've been happy about? At the bottom of the steps, she raised the notepad that she was holding in expectation. "So are you finally ready to talk about the budget, Tsubakura-sensei?"

Their hat's brim poked out from behind the curtains that enclosed the corner of the room, bobbing every so often. Drilling suddenly shrieked off the pale white walls. Yuuka held her hands over her ears from the horrible sound that grinded into her brain. Belatedly, she realized that only Yabusame was reacting. Shion was still doodling on her paper.

When Shion realized that she was being looked at, they happily raised the artwork. It was a black flower surrounded by smiley faces and frowny faces.

With the end of the grinding came Tsubakura looking immensely pleased. In their hands was a black circle made out of metal. Straight down the middle was a line bisecting it, a semi-circle making a hump in the center. Yuuka looked up at the hat which was giving her a lazy stare. It might've been styled off that, but she could easily see many things within the simple design. A sunset. A ditch. A nose.

"My own halo," Tsubakura said. They twirled it around for everybody to see.

"Wow!" Yabusame jumped up and looked it over. "It's not floating!"

Tsubakura glared slightly at their friend. "That's because it's not finished. I've gotten nearly everything except the binding aspect. From what I've studied about the haloes, they're personalized for the person that they 'bind' to. Working on trying to figure out how that process happens without any magic involved."

"Why no magic?" Shion asked.

"Have you seen any magic around here?"

Shion and Yabusame glanced over at the only active halo in the room. Yuuka's only response was to scoff. 'Magic'. The role of sensei protected them from the absolute worst of her skepticism, at most giving them a dull stare whenever they started casually talking about their magic and souls and whatever came out from their fright night discussions. It wasn't as if they dedicated full topics to the outlandish ideas. Just some asides as if talking about how their guns were running out of ammo. Falling out of dimensions to get ketchup. Eating a soul that tasted like cotton candy. Various other little things that made talking with the adults awkward. She just had to pass by like they didn't say anything outrageous.

"I guess it doesn't smell like it," Yabusame said.

Like that. Another outrageous thing she pretended not to hear.

She fished out her phone and tapped through the documents until it got to Schale's budget. Clearing her throat, she remained centered on the words to ignore the tiny one's curious prodding around her waist..

"May we have a moment, Tsubakura-sensei? It's not only the budget that I'm worried about. It's also," she looked around at the room that they eviscerated, "your duties as sensei."

They held up the halo as if offering it. "I think that this contributes more to my duties than anything you're thinking about."

"Infinite liiiives!" Shion yelled.

She gave another glance over the halo. Then around the room. They'd never allowed her to directly see the workbench, but it couldn't have been filled with an array of useful tools with how relatively spartan their living room/bedroom/laboratory was. She'd seen private research benches in the dorms with more sophistication than the room around her—dials and knobs and all kinds of machines to assist with the research. All that they had was a television playing some sort of game show.

"What I'm trying to say is that Schale was founded as a club with massive powers and I've been assigned as your…"

"Keeper?" Yabusame asked.

"Handler," Shion groused.

"Supervisor!" Yuuka yelled. "Specifically, I'm the head and only member of the Schale Supervisory Committee—established last week."

"Sounds like one of those bureaucratic positions that're made t'fill some fat cat's pockets. But what do I know? I'm just an enforcer for the top," Tsubakura grumbled. They gave a dissatisfied look at their halo before walking into their lab corner to put it away.

"How much do you get paid, Chief Supervisor?" Yabusame asked.

"T-That's to be determined once we have more information on how hard it is to get Schale moving towards goals synonymous with the General Student Council," Yuuka managed to stutter out.

"So they're going to string you along with the promise of eventually paying you for as long as they can?" Shion asked. Every single time Yuuka mistook the youngest member of Schale for a kid, they always said something that would startle her.

"E-Even so, I think that it's a needed addition considering that it's your three who I'm working with. How many official club activities have you initiated?" Yuuka asked.

Yabusame sat back down, leaning back with their hands pressed against the ground. "Well there was that one time that we helped that person. And the other time that I saw that person needed help. I also helped that old lady cross the street!"

"Is there paperwork verifying any of these as Schale activities?"

They all looked between themselves as if any of them knew what an F-594A form was.

"No," Tsubakura said.

"Then you'll need to figure something out. Though Schale is above some rules, you cannot just lounge around while using your budget for personal matters. Every club must have members and proceed towards its stated purpose. I doubt that any of you can name a single thing you've done towards the betterment of Schale or the city." At their blank looks, she sighed, looked for guidance somewhere above, and looked back towards the cruel earth. "That budget that you're using for ink, CDs, and legos? It'll dry up if you don't do your club duty."

Yabusame made a noise like they were punched in the gut. "That's way more subtle and sinister than Jinbei!"

"Is it? They're basically starving us out," Tsubakura said with a sigh.

Deciding that her job was done, Yuuka started climbing back up the steps. The childish urge to further grind them down flared up. It wasn't listened to. She was better than that, better than the people who consistently made snide remarks like they were on a playground.

"Necessity is the mother of invention. If you'd put some of that passion towards building for Schale's activities, then I'm sure you'll be back to your workshop in no time. Otherwise, you'd best learn that scarcity breeds innovation," Yuuka said. She needed to keep her head facing against the wall so they couldn't see her mouth wildly wiggle between smiling and frowning. Darn it! She was supposed to be acting professional! But it felt so good!

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Tsubakura asked.

"She is!" Shion said.

Yuuka spun around with a smug smile that she'd finally settled on. Leaning on the railing, she tilted her head slightly. "Maybe this'll teach you to read reports. You would've known that Schale was at risk of losing its budget if you would've listened to my previous inbox. Or the previous one. Or the introduction that I gave you to Kivotos."

With that mic drop, she turned around. The automatic door wasn't fast enough. Her nose bounced against the metal. Without turning around to see all the reactions, she hurried out the door and far past the hallway.

"S'not even like we've done nothing," Tsubakura said with a groan. They plopped into the kotatsu, chin resting against the wooden surface, sulking with the biggest frown of them all.

Shion didn't have to worry about that. Shion had no responsibility. So Shion sat down and continued playing with her legos while the other two were aimlessly looking around for something that'd get them out. Nada. Work came for all and this was their death knell contained in an easily flustered blue-haired student. Yabusame plopped across from Tsubakura as their final member appeared in the center of the table. That tablet wasn't a priority for researching—no matter how advanced the technology was inside, it was still a tablet—and thus was mostly left at the center of their relaxation station like a potted plant. She alternated between long naps that could last for multiple days and constant activity that kept Yabusame from napping. The bug of laziness bit all in that prison of sloth.

"Maybe it's time to start working on all these requests that have been piling up?" Arona suggested. Her form hovered above the panel, appearing from the bottom up. She briefly flickered when a finger was shoved in her face.

"Arooooona!" Yabusame yelled.

She tried brushing it to the side, only for her to phase straight through the offending body part. "I'm glad that Yuuka-san came down to remind you three to work. Nothing I did really helped you."

"'Helped' is an interesting way to put it. Far as I see it, our handlers are yanking on our leash," Tsubakura said.

"Then it's still helping so that Sensei doesn't get taken to the pound." She looked between the two characters. Within that short time she stopped speaking, their attentions already stopped drifting. "Mou! At least pretend that you're listening!"

"We are. Not willingly, but we are," Tsubakura said with a groan.

"Then keep listening: we've got tons of requests that have built up! It's admirable that Tsubakura-sensei and Yabusame-sensei have done work outside of Schale's authority by their own pleasure, but you need to go through the whole procedure if you want to be recognized." After making sure their eyes weren't wandering or shutting, she continued, "so that means looking through the list of requests specifically asking for Schale's help instead of walking around looking for trouble! Now, the ones that seem most urgent are the Abydos district requesting—"

"Sounds good to me," Tsubakura interrupted.

"We're on the case~!" Yabusame said.

Shion was focused on a lego that wasn't connecting right. For some reason, the dome had a single spot that didn't look to be round-ish. Their hand trailed around it to find the problem spot.

Arona's halo flickered before turning a sullen blue, little blue lines almost seeping down to her scalp. "You could've tried having this enthusiasm when I first suggested this."

"This ain't work. Now it's a matter for survival," Tsubakura said. There was a smug undertone to their voice, though Arona had no clue what there was to be smug about.

Once again a fist raised up from beneath the covers. Realizing what was happening, Yabusame plopped down across from Tsubakura and raised their own hands. Fist rested above palm. Fist rested above palm. Both fists bounced against their palms. One shot out earlier than expected.

"On zero, not one," Tsubakura said.

"Why not one?"

"Because I don't like one."
They raised again and went through the ritual. A scissors shot out. A rock was on the other side. Their fist bounced against the frail fingers lightly before raising up into a cheer.

"I did it!" Yabusame yelled.

Tsubakura's eyes narrowed. At that moment, Arona thought that even their hat was angrier. "You cheated."
"Cheated!? Me? I'm not a cheater!"

Without another word, Tsubakura picked up the Shittim Chest and started walking out. Arona 'eeped' from being picked up so roughly, retreating back into her home in shock. Mere steps—an astute observer realizing there was no way to cross that many steps with their tiny legs—ascended the entire staircase and left the basement.

Outside the new Schale clubroom was a building under heavy construction. With Schale's operations being scaled back and the club member's disinterest in expanding past a few rooms, most of the building had been rented out for other purposes. Companies, smaller clubs, and individuals just wanting a place in the famous tower were scuttling around the hallways with movers trailing close behind. It was an exciting atmosphere; with so much change happening at once, an optimistic buzz infected the entire staff. A new Schale with new operations made the entire city feel new. Multiple times Tsubakura was forced to tilt down the brim of their hat to avoid the towered boxes dragged along by electric dollies.

Electric. Just another thing to get used to again. With their old home always being the border between the tradition of the ancient past and the outside world, they'd gotten used to making do with ancient amenities. Some were much more appreciated than others. Lights keeping the entire hallway visible and a cooling tower chugging along were a noticeable quality of life improvement. The idiots who they had to sidle past, too busy looking on their phones, was a definite negative. They never had much use for those kinds of things, especially when they could've always made a normal phone but better. A negative too were all the cameras that they had to be conscious of. Their previous home suited them well. Having to remember the pesky laws that implied extortion was bad, or stealing, or blowing off a bit of steam was already grating on their nerves, and they hadn't even been caught yet.

Outside was an entirely different world. Too hot, for one. But the busy atmosphere that was inside came full force with the revving of engines and chatter from conversations miles away no longer being deflected by the tower's high walls. There they stood at the head of the giant staircase, with the damage from the fight to retake Sanctum being painted over by friendly crews that had gotten to know the new top dogs. Some of the holes driven inside of the building gave it a much better aesthetic, in Tsubakura's opinion.

"Mou, Sensei," Arona said. The little girl spoke without gathering attention. Tsubakura figured that technology bordering on magic was at play considering Yabusame nor Shion smelled anything—another mystery that they were honestly not too interested in. "What's Yabusame-sensei going to be doing? I didn't give them an assignment."

"Restin'."

Arona waited for a greater response. That was all she was going to get. "Resting!? Sensei! There's work to be done!"

"And I'm out doing it since I lost the rock-paper-scissors." Tsubakura rolled their eyes. "I know for a fact Yabusame cheated. Should've done it myself."

"Whaaat? You can't cheat at rock-paper-scissors! And you have three members of Schale! And even if Shion is a little..." Arona paused to find the right word. Despite never having a full conversation with the youngest member, Arona got bad feelings whenever Shion stared too hard. There was a hunger in the girl's eyes that seemed insatiable, and it was hard to forget the time that they bit down on her digital head. "I'm not sure if I trust her to do Schale activities. That doesn't mean you should let Yabusame laze around while you work."

Tsubakura rolled their eyes once again, though this time it was focused on a different person. "You're way too driven to be stuck in that little tablet. Look, our job is to keep the cash flowing into Schale. If we're doing that, then being overachievers does nothing except make those bigwigs send us even more work, eating away at our free time. Think about life more efficiently and you'll have more time to yourself. Now, make some calls. I'm Sensei, aren't I? I'll teach you how to properly divide the work."

A fierce heat overcame the entire district. Reading newspaper reports on the way there had given Tsubakura a general overview of the whole situation. Once normal, then not, now their temperature had also mysteriously risen by a whopping five degrees. Sand buffeted everything. Brief glimpses of wind sent it scattering inside the formerly occupied suburbs, sprinkling over the yellow grass and slipping inside the living rooms. Many places had tiny piles resting in the corners from months of disuse. It provided a much bleaker picture than what was seen outside; it wasn't as if the waist-high dunes building where there were once gardens made any urban area seem hopeful. Sand was launched into the eyes of the travelers too. Unused to being in desert conditions, all of them were trying to cope in their own ways. None had really figured out how to stop the breeze from playfully flicking their eyeballs with a grain or two yet.

Tsubakura had managed the easiest, of course. They'd never be caught pathetically writhing around in any situation. The crucial matter of their pride made complaining a must, while never showing weakness. Browsing history full of advice on surviving in the desert, they had been put in a good mood from their clothing already being appropriate. The airy robes kept them cool. The giant hat provided shade that their students silently tried sneaking under. Though the sandals weren't specifically mentioned, wearing some kind of footwear was a must when the pavement superheated into egg-frying temperatures. They had many titles in their years: Loafing Monochrome is the best known one, however it had turned sour when their position had started to necessitate for their perspective to change; therefore, it'd be better to refer to them as the Loafing Monochrome Teacher Without a Lesson Plan, with a myriad of abilities both innate and provided by their inventions.

The person to Tsubakura's left was having a terrible time. Their saggy clothes were certainly floppy enough, yet they were made of a material more suffocating than other clothing save for insulated snow coats. The entire outfit was made for a different climate of an air-conditioned room with iced coffee. What normally kept them cloistered in a single position for the entirety of daylight had become nearly soaked through both sides with her sweat. Halfway through the street her sweater had started slipping from her shoulders and hanging from her elbows, dragging alongside the road. Even the slippers seemed to be against her, catching on every pothole like she was a car. Mother of Written Knowledge, Kozeki Ui, letting her De Lisle Carbine lazily drag its muzzle against the ground as the strap hung from the crook of her arm.

While normally the girl on the right side was judging the improper manner of presenting themselves, she'd be lying saying that she was comfortable. It wasn't the heat that was the problem—her own outfit was similarly airy thanks to the haori covering most her skin and clothes underneath thin—but the sand that was never taught privacy. Underneath places where it shouldn't be were rolling marbles that readjusted to a new pokey bit every step. The flowing sleeves working against her and getting tiny granules sticking to where sweat was gathering. The worst part being her twin tails that swept across the street behind them to get rid of the little bundles that were gathering in her fur. Getting those tails ready for the day was an entire process, and actively feeling her work being undone was aggravating enough that her fingers stretched even harder on the thread she liked to carry around, spinning into knots. Club of Steel, Dreams of Steel, Heart of Steel, Kiryuu Kikyou, thinking that they must've been on a long distance mission since Sensei brought along another sniper besides her own Type 38.

In truth, none of them were exactly well placed in the desert. The whole place being just maintained enough to not have decayed from the sudden climate change yet still slowly overtaken by sand gave it a dreamlike quality, not helped by the many electronics that were still working. Televisions were still on in some places, playing advertisements that brought attention to long shuttered storefronts. Those power lines that rose above them weren't just for show, even if many started tilting.

They made most of the walk in silence. Partially out of resentment towards Tsubakura for calling them out there—and neither would admit that it was also out of awkwardness for being around unfamiliar people. It made the obnoxious humming of their sensei all the more noticeable. It wasn't too much of a problem until the dunes started stacking higher, the streets jutting from beneath the grainy hills, and the reassurance of being under a responsible adult being lost with every pound of water weight being lost. Left turn. Right turn. Go down this road a bit. Eventually even Kikyou's sharp sense of direction was eroded, leaving her sitting underneath a plane of no water, comfort, with the sun standing directly overhead.

A strong gust of wind made her sky-blue haori flutter. A little bit of sand trailed down the back of her collar. Like an hourglass, she felt each individual particle trickle down until they got stuck at the small of her back.

"Sensei," she caught herself with a sigh, repeating, "Tsubakura-sensei."

Adults were just, right, responsible, so-on so-on. That's what both of them had learned over their lives. It's just entirely contrary to the closest working relationship that either had built with the person who lazily turned around. Even their height was barely over both the girls, and they were noticeably shorter than many of their classmates!

"Don't even think about asking me, 'where the heck are we going'."

"Eh? Sensei read you like an open book."

It took her a few seconds to realize that Kikyou's stare was directed at her. It wasn't angry. Judging. Even neutral. There was some sort of thing there that wasn't properly expressed by Kikyou's mannerisms being generally subdued. Whatever it was, Ui decided pretty quickly that she didn't like being stared at.

"U-uh, I meant that I agree. W-Where are we going?" Immediately upon saying that, Tsubakura turned their dull stare on her. If Kikyou's was dull then Tsubakura's was the bleakness of the moon. "Ahhhh! How long are we going to be in this horrible desert!? I hate the sand!"

Kikyou privately agreed. It wouldn't do to show any amount of skin with her sensei of questionable gender being there, being in public only a secondary matter considering how barren the place was, yet there was too much sand that wouldn't be dislodged no matter how many slight adjustments she did. Everything that got stuck in her shirt would have to be flapped out and she was not going to do something so embarrassing there.

With a shake of their head, Tsubakura continued walking. "Dunno."

"So we are lost," Kikyou said.

"'Lost' implies that we ever had a destination to begin with. And we wouldn't even be having to deal with this much sand if either of you knew how to fly," Tsubakura said.

Lost, Ui looked over to the other student for confirmation. That same blank stare continued drilling into Sensei, hands making simple shapes with the thread. Earlier it made complicated shapes with deft turns of her fingers; now it was turning into a mangled mess of lines fit for a child's scribbles. Ui realized that was an accurate assessment of her emotions. One wrong word would turn anyone into that mess of criss-crossing lines. She turned straight ahead and tried minding her own business.

"Pray tell, what does it even mean that we never had a destination? From the little that you texted me," Kikyou held up her phone, showing the single line beckoning her over, "we're helping Abydos. Why we're wasting time here I'm not even sure. Does this place even have any students left?"
"I don't think there's any life left," Ui muttered, looking at a pile of brambles.

Tsubakura swept their arms wide. "If they're having troubles that they need to call in an extrajudicial force to solve it, then that means there's obviously some muscle that needs to be thrown around. No use wasting our time gabbing."

Kikyou's eyes narrowed, unamused. "You're saying that we're wandering around until we find something? How stupid—"

The telltale sound of a bell snapped their attention to the street ahead of them. The spokes of the wheel suddenly were all the more audible when their argument ended. Another ring. The person riding it lazily let themselves sway, their slow pace making the bike subject to the many bumps in the road. A tune was playing in her head, one that had a bell as a prominent instrument in the song, that made her flick the little lever every so often. Sure, the little cute ring didn't compare to the awesome bells that belted out with the song as the singer's voice reached a crescendo, but that little cute ting was so addicting that she started flicking it as encouragement to continue moving. Innocent Criminal, Sunaookami Shiroko, a Sig SG 550 carried inside her bike's basket like she was delivering muffins.

All the parties looked between themselves. The first life that the girls had seen since entering Abydos and they didn't even bother greeting them. She rolled to a stop with the help of a bump in the road, kicking her foot out onto the pavement. No signs of hostility.

"Target acquired~," Tsubakura said with a smile. "Git. Neutralize them."

"Uwah?" Ui stuttered, trying to get a sentence out, rapidly jabbing her finger at the girl who was neutrally watching them.

"Git? Do you think us your attack dogs?" Kikyou asked.

Their eyes closed and arms crossed, trying to look like a tart instructor—failing. The little smirk was much too self-indulgent. "It's my job as a teacher to bring you up to speed on incident resolution. The first step? Shoot down anybody that looks important. She has a halo. She can take it."

Ui stopped, took a deep breath, and finally composed herself to speak a coherent sentence. "That's not the problem here!"
Deciding that she wanted to listen in but realizing that they would take a second, Shiroko pedaled a little to the side where a waist-high wall separated a house's yard from the greater public. Going around slightly gave it cover from the firefight that was about to happen. She was especially careful to hook the handle on top of the wall so the paint wouldn't get scratched by falling over. Her drone was inside the bag that she carried around, which she was especially wary of using. A single blast could knock down her bike, or send shrapnel flying near it, permanently scratching the layer (permanently because she wasn't going to steal enough money that could pay for a new paint job instead of paying off the debt—the debt, not a debt).

Her gun lazily hung from her loose grip, the barrel nearly dragging on the road, while her other hand nestled neatly inside her jacket's pocket. The others were still arguing when she assumed a wide-legged stance across the street.

"It looks like your training is broken," Tsubakura groused. "What does a cat even respond to? Meow meow?"

Kikyou didn't even respond to that. She just looked annoyed. Her resting face always bordered on annoyance. This one was genuine. Genuinely, she wanted to wrap her thread around their neck and strangle them.

Quickly looking between the two, Ui skittered behind the giant hat and whispered, "Sensei, I think that would make her attack us instead."

"Not housebroken then? Oh well. I've been known for doing quick fixes on unruly strays," Tsubakura said.

"Um."

Three heads snapped to the girl waiting. Shiroko raised her hand.

"So are we fighting or not?"

"I'd prefer 'or not'!" Ui said.

"Please shoot at my students. They're a little slow on the uptake," Tsubakura said.

One look at her gun. Two looks at the targets who seemed to be hesitant.

"...'kay,"

Kikyou's head was thrown back from the shot straight into her temple, losing balance and slamming straight into the ground.

More shots than necessary were exchanged.

Shiroko felt like a quilt of normal skin and bruises. Her nose was crumpled against the ground as she laid face down. Even worse, the entire front of her uniform was now coated in a layer of compacted dirt that only roads could have. Soot, plant matter, old rubber all mixing into a toxic combination that she was slightly tempted to lick. Just once. Why not? You only live once and there was no time being scared of what something would taste like.

"This was a needless waste of time," Kikyou grumbled.

Three pillars of shadow hung over the motionless body. It took her a bit to regain the energy to crane her neck upwards at an uncomfortable angle, blearily looking at the people who'd forgotten her existence again.

"Let me teach you the first tip for incident resolution: always shoot first. We're in a hostile area where something is happening. If they're really innocent, then they won't fire back. If they're innocent but capable, then they'll fire back and maintain that they don't know anything. If they know about the incident, then better that we skip all the fluff and beat the information out of them instead of dancing around with diplomacy. Time could be against us so why waste it on dead ends? Then if they're hostile, we've dealt with a threat. Understand?"

"Sensei, your reasoning is…" Ui trailed off, thinking about it. "Uwah. I don't think it's backwards but it probably isn't right."

"Understood. That's good advice."

The two girls looked incredulously at the one who'd they'd just beaten into the ground. Tsubakura just smugly tilted their head slightly. "See? Even our opponent gets it."

"Maybe we knocked her brain loose? Apologies if we did, but you had technically initiated," Kikyou said.

Shiroko slowly stood up. The world spun around. A deep breath let all those buzzing neurons still for a moment so she could regain a handle on the horizon. When her stomach settled enough that it didn't feel like it was about to explode, she got up onto a knee. One hand supported her weight while the other searched around for the gun that she lost during the fight. A strong hand hooked underneath her armpit. Just the support in itself made the world feel more whole. Glancing to her side, the shyer one stepped up and helped her. A fierce red overtook her helper's cheeks that Shiroko could see even as the girl was looking away. Ui felt the gaze at the back of her head.

"I-I just felt bad that we shot you down for no reason."

That was all that was given for an explanation. With a sigh, Kikyou walked forward and gathered all the girl's things that were scattered around the road during the fight. The gun. Tiny patches of clothing that were shredded off—best not to litter. More importantly, the girl's entire bag had been shot off. Bullets scattered around the area like caltrops. She was careful not to leave any behind. Notably, this wasn't hard. Only twenty-six more bullets were found. Discounting whatever amount that had slipped into the sand, it was an incredibly low number for students of any stripe. A quiet, "thank you," responded to her when she offered the bag to Shiroko.

Tsubakura was impatiently tapping their foot the entire time. "Well, we now know everybody's guns and what scale on 'small fry' we land on. But all good things come to an end and this one's ending with us continuing on."

Dread sank into Ui's gut like a finicky medication. "Continue where?"

"Nowhere yet everywhere I'd assume. Sensei would have us continue walking around until we find something of interest," Kikyou said, sighing. Shutting her eyes to block out the light didn't help when the sun was refracting, burning straight through the modest skin layer.

"Quick to listen and quick to learn. You're a model student," Tsubakura said.

The arm that wasn't supporting the girl curved and pressed into her chest. Ui seemed almost catatonic with the way her mouth kept moving even when not talking.

"Sensei! I don't know much about Kiryuu-san, but I know a lot about me. Me! I'm ashamed to say that I'm generally proud of my weaknesses. But walking into a desert? You picked the wrong girl to do that! I just—" Her eyes frantically moved around at the other girls. The last scrap of pride was thrown away. "I'm a shut-in! Whenever I have time, I go inside and spend it with my children! Look at me! I've been out for two hours and I've already lost an entire layer of skin!"

Shiroko looked at the girl up and down, mostly focusing on the waist. She nodded to herself.

"You look good for being a parent."

It was meant to be a compliment, not a quip. Ui was trying to figure out how she was meant to take it. Yes, she was not a real parent, but then again Shiroko could've genuinely been trying to act nice, and then again 'look good' was a compliment no matter the situation unless it wasn't.

"Thank you?" she decided.

Kikyou decided that she wanted to take control in case Ui would break down again. "Though I wouldn't put it like Kozeki-san did, she has a fair point that our qualifications hardly are suited for combat in the desert. Specifically, if our environment becomes any less urban, I'm embarrassed to say that I'd be reduced to an unstable wreck too. We don't have the provisions to travel a desert—water or the like."

"Um," Shiroko interrupted, "you're all from Schale, right?"

Kikyou turned around and answered before Tsubakura could. "Partially correct. Sensei here is the head of Schale. Me and Kozeki-san are merely helping as per their instruction."

With a hand held to her chest, Shiroko said, "I'm from Abydos. We sent out a request for Schale weeks ago. We understood that Sensei is a busy person so we've been waiting for a response ever since."

It was like a switch was flipped. Instead of the snarky face that had been drawn out from Sensei or the colder one to cope with the extreme heat, her impassive face seemed to become lighter. There was a very slight upturn to her lips that made Ui nearly feel like her partner was welcoming.

"Where are my manners? My name is Kiryuu Kikyou. This is my current associate, Kozeki Ui. Though it may be hard to believe, the person with questionable fashion sense is our sensei, Tsubakura. I'm not sure of their given name."

"Oi," Tsubakura butted in. "I couldn't help but notice that your tongue only has poison when speaking my name. Bad children with no wit have their tongues turn black and fall off."

"My apologies for asking, but our debriefing over the situation has been relatively light. Truth be told, I wasn't even sure of Abydos' condition before seeing it with my own eyes. I had no idea that it had turned this dire," Kikyou said, completely ignoring Tsubakura. She sighed, the only sign of embarrassment being her eyes flicking to the side. "We're not even sure of the issue that we're supposed to address. Would you be so kind as to explain?"

"Ah. Our acting president would be the best at doing that. I could take you three to her."

"Would there be air conditioning?" Ui asked.

"In the meeting room."

"Sounds wonderful. We'd appreciate if you could lead the way," Kikyou said. She walked over to the bike and hefted it up. "Shall we?"

Without even looking behind them, the trio started walking down with Shiroko giving directions. Their hanger-on was pouting in mild irritation.

"Man, they had to get all serious about this and ask around. Now we're going to be here for even more time. Could even be more than one day. What a paaaain." Tsubakura closed their eyes and tilted up to the sun. "On the other hand, resolving the incident will make Schale look more reliable. Meanwhile my students take the entire workload since they're so proactive. Mm mm mm~. Not bad. Not bad at all. Now that I think about it, if our investigation ever takes us towards the city, then I could also grab a bottle of sake for back home. Mm mm mm~. Patience is a virtue and whatnot. For me at least. Give this place any more time and it'll turn into the Tomb of Tutankhamun."

They followed behind their students at a leisurely pace. And if they flew at a momentously slow speed, who could blame them? It really was a hot day and they needed to save their energy if any real trouble came up.

The second that Tsubakura saw what was on the other side of the doors, they already felt like leaving. Their grunt of displeasure came out so silently yet there were multiple people in the room who were specifically better than the average person at hearing.

"Is there something that you'd like to say, Sensei?" Kikyou asked.

She'd taken the lead for most of the trip. Sharp glares were sent behind to make sure that they were still following, not at all surprised when their toes seemed to be dragging against the pavement, body pushed along by an unseen force. It didn't surprise her because that was how they met. Ui didn't notice as she was much less curious about her fellow human—less daring, well-meaning, and leader-like in her opinion too. Most of her attention was spent keeping her from fumbling a casual conversation.

Tsubakura looked around. What once could've been a room fitted with twenty or so people had been slashed into a fraction of that number.

"Just thinking that this place is a bit crowded for my taste. Wondering if all our breathing is gonna make a bunch of hot air affect our brains," Tsubakura said.

"I think that the heat exhaustion has already gotten to your own," Kikyou shot back. She primly waited behind one of the open seats, next to the table's end opposite to the window. If Tsubakura sat down at the head, then she would be on their right. They didn't need to ask if that was intentional.

"...who are these people and why are they arguing like a married couple?"

The person who spoke up was warily eyeing the new arrivals from the corner of the room. She defensively crossed her arms, shoulder tilted to emphasize that she really didn't want to be there. Just seconds ago she was casually engaging in conversation about the cheapest kind of anchovies to buy. Her red eyes bounced from each newcomer and took in all their features: what kind of weapon they used, their musculature, if they had a threatening countenance, and many more unconscious processes that she didn't recognize. The ranking was as follows: the one playing with a thread was the leader and the most dangerous, the one helping Shiroko into a chair was a meek thing with a powerful weapon, and the one lazily leaning against the wall with both hands in their pockets was a civilian without a halo (unless the stupid hat hid it). Gullibility Killed the Cat, Kuromi Serika, an AR-70 leaning against the wall next to her. Many were happy with their current weapons. She was not. She wanted a new one. She did constant upkeep out of obligation, not attachment.

"Married?" Kikyou quietly repeated. Clearing her throat, she drilled into Serika's eyes. "I'd prefer if you didn't make such banal assumptions about people that you've just met. We're here for volunteer work. Though we're obligated to help with Schale now that we've signed up, there's no stipulation stating that we need to specifically help you. It has already become quite a bother locating your district with the situation of the desert. If you want to insult us like that, then it's your own prerogative. Just don't be surprised if we become disinclined to help."

"And on the other side of the coin, we've got the one who gladly insults her seniors," Tsubakura said.

"I'll believe you're my senior when you act like it." Kikyou slightly smiled, giving them a look from the corner of her eyes. "Maybe I'd even take it when you become the tallest in the room? I'd take even second tallest."

"The surface is only the first layer of a person. What's beneath can be an ugly emptiness. Everyone knows this. I doubt you'd make it to the bardo of rebirth," Tsubakura said.

"Do you relish in saying things nobody else understands?" Kikyou said.

"Only as much as you relish making simple interactions complicated."

"No, I believe that you are the crowned champion of that."

"Ehehe," the blonde-haired girl awkwardly laughed. "I think I see where Serika-san's coming from."

She was sitting on one of the seats with a perfect, enviable posture. There was nothing that suggested what she was doing took any effort. Manicured nails, looking over them, brushing a finger past her hairline like it would've changed the past five minutes she'd done it. There was a pleasant scent that always lingered around her. Those who asked about it always got an enigmatic answer, never knowing if it even was a perfume. Glittering Second LIfe, Izayoi Nonomi, with her M134 resting beneath the table as she liked to rest her feet on the barrels. Before the district had really gone down the gutter, she liked to tease the others by letting it rest on the tables and call it a 'quality test'. They'd creak and groan but never break. Now that they had no money, she didn't want to risk it.

"I think that Shiroko-san may have brought some weird people in. I'm not sure that's much better than the casual crime that she does?"

The speaker was the least noticeable girl left behind in the school. Everybody else had some strange personality trait that made them stick out within a few seconds of conversation. Down to her very appearance she remained plain, and she liked that. She liked being able to say, "hey, I'm the normal one here." It didn't sound like a compliment to most people. Those people, she'd say, obviously didn't integrate into Kivotos school life. Reasonable behavior was a commodity. Digital Shadow Over Your Shoulder, Okusora Ayane, a P229 concealed rather than being open carried like everybody else. That was her quirk and she liked it. Hiding your capabilities (especially since hers were so limited) from aggressors until the very last second was just good strategy.

"Don't worry everyone. The calvary's here. Woohooo," Tsubakura said.

"Can you say that any less enthusiastically?" Kikyou hissed.

"Saying something so generic pains me, y'know? I consider myself an artist at both expressing language and deconstructing it."

"Can we pleeeease stop embarrassing ourselves?" Ui pleaded.

Once again, their conversation became insulated from the outsiders. The Abydos students all stood at the other side of the table with varying degrees of worry.

Nonomi was trying to chuckle, coming out with weak exhales. "Is a calvary supposed to act like this?"

"I'm sure that they get their act together when the situation calls for it," Ayane said. The confidence she tried projecting instead sounded like she was forcing the others to agree.

"Right," Nonomi said.

"Right." Ayane repeated, more genuinely confident.

"Riiiiight," Serika drolled.

It took Nonomi getting tired of standing for the rest of the club to sit down. Schale's representatives took one end while the remaining students sat at the other. Behind the impassive appearance with an elbow leaning against the table, Tsubakura was clearly listening through all the introductions and forceful affirmations that, yes, they were from Schale.

It took a longer time than they would've wanted to start getting to the meat of the conversation. Ui noted bleakly that the head of their table was falling asleep.

"So what's the situation that requires Schale to intervene?" Kikyou's eyes narrowed to slits. "I'd hope you weren't wasting our time by asking for us to fix your district or some other nonsense like that. We're not miracle workers. We'd rather be better at bolstering your student body, fixing the academy, landscaping the area so that the desert is more manageable, and reforming your organization to cope with changes such as these."

"Huh? Those things kind of sound like miracles in themselves," Ayane said.

"Sounds like a pain. All in favor of not doing any of that?" Tsubakura asked. They raised their other hand that wasn't supporting their head.

To Kikyou's shock another one immediately followed.

"Kozeki-san!"

Ui cringed. "Landscaping? Construction? Sorry, but you're going to have to find somebody who's not going to toast well-done for all of that. I'm flaking all over the table. And do I look like the type who has built a house!?"

"Shot down before it even got a chance to fly," Nonomi wryly said.

Serika glared at the white flecks that were spotting the table in front of Ui. "Ugh. I am not cleaning that."

"Don't look so contrite, Kikyou," Tsubakura blandly said. They waved their free hand around. "Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Hm?"

It all seemed very obvious from the second that you walked around the vicinity of the school. First was the sand: the whole biome being changed was weird and produced a lot of weird effects. Some visible lines could be seen where the desert-ification hadn't pierced through yet, the front lines of normalcy that could perhaps be restored. These places still couldn't avoid the touch of the dryness however. The sun seemed to beat down harsher and sand still was piling up against the niches where there once were people.

The school was the exact same way. Mostly still green. Little trails of sand came through the door where the girls would put their shoe lockers. Unremarkable corners easily forgotten became culprits of harboring tiny dunes that the girls didn't clean. Worst yet were all the tiny cracks. Air conditioners, bushes, loose dirt, anything that had places that could be dirtied was riddled with the stuff.

That was just an aside that Tsubakura noticed. It was the actual condition of the school which drew most of the attention. Bullet holes littered the entire campus. Glass shards missed by a broom glittered like rave lights. It was harder to find an unscathed part of the school, so many bullet holes dotting the walls like the attackers were purposely there for property damage. Scorch marks intermixed with these occasionally. The very rarest were tears like a blade had struck through, carving nonsense patterns into the walls. Casings were in the trash can that they were sitting next to. A tiny hole punched through the bottom of the door was even poking through behind them.

The school had been besieged before.

"That'll dock you points," Tsubakura said smugly. Before Kikyou could start saying something sassy, they continued. "Let's go over the evidence: the entire district's been abandoned because of the desertification. Since we can also see that the place is abandoned and so few people are meeting us here, we can assume that most people moved away. This site has been a battlefield. They've called Schale over to help, an organization that's just been reinstated with new owners that I'm sure many are wary of. Shiroko only had thirty-one bullets after our fight; naturally, you missed a few. We were called for help in dealing with these miscreants."

"And you didn't bother picking those loose bullets up? Eek. Sensei is harsh." Ui asked, closing her eyes.

Ayane laughed uneasily. "That was all pretty on the mark. But you're acting as if you deduced all that? From what I remember, there was a little bit of debriefing on the letter. Maybe I'm wrong. It's been a pretty stressful week."

For some reason, despite barely knowing each other past a few interactions, both of Schale's underlings looked towards their Sensei with different amounts of disappointment in their eyes.

"And what's with looking at me like I'm a terminal patient?" Tsubakura asked in irritation.

Beneath their robes was a tablet that they'd decided to keep hidden from the rest of the world—if only to avoid having to explain that whole story. Inside it was the letter that had a brief story about their district and the explicit request to provide arms. Arona was slightly fuming as she listened in.

"Whatever the case, it's better late than never!" Nonomi clapped her hands together. "I'd love a restock! My gun can finally stop being a paperweight!"

"Mah. I can't even remember when my partner's been loaded at this point," Shiroko said sullenly.

"Yesterday. When you used the last shot in it to scare away a rat," Serika snapped.

At no point did Kikyou look away from Tsubakura. Her eyes, previously narrowed, had gone to the point where they looked closed. Ui took a second before the dawning horror started hitting her. The rest of the table's cheer didn't reach Ayane, who was actually paying attention. None of the people seemed ready for a trek like the one they made. Kikyou and Ui were noticeably bare of any bags while Tsubakura had the rare moment where they looked troubled, like a child who just broke a window. Slowly the other students were coming down from their high to notice that nobody from Schale said anything.

One of them had to break the spell.

"...you have ammo, right?" Ayane asked quietly.

That was a complicated question. Ammo may have been in one of those liquor store cash registers, or spent keeping the lights running, or in the government's hands depending on the way you looked at it. Liquor was expensive! To avoid the stigma of adults being drunkards, the stuff was kept away lock and key in specific stores with taxes raised high enough to dissuade the weak-hearted or empty-walleted. Furniture was expensive! But they weren't about to scrounge up a horrible kotatsu when that was the most important piece in the entire room. Arcane materials that went into questionable technology were expensive! Not necessarily important, but Tsubakura had a burning passion for constructing things like that. Mystical things. Things multiple decades ahead of the technology around everything else.

"My students have ammo," Tsubakura said. "And we're all that's needed."

"Fweh?" Ui exclaimed.

"Because, like was planned, we're going to stop the root of this problem. We're going to go and knock these miscreant's blocks off."

"You can't be serious…" Kikyou lamented.

Tsubakura stood up, eyes closed. Though they normally didn't care about the opinions of other people, they could admit that in this very particular moment they screwed the pooch. "So let's get going. The longer we wait, the more likely it'll be that they'll attack."

"Who even are 'they'?" Ui asked.

"The Helmet Gang," Serika supplied. After a moment's thought, she shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that."

A gunshot rang in the distance. The group of panicked students snapped over to the window, hands on guns that barely had enough ammunition to scare off a bird attack. Meanwhile Ui had slapped herself over her forehead in disbelief. Kikyou would've normally been joining in if she didn't have a natural disgust towards troublemakers with too much time on their hands.

"The Helmet Gang," Tsubakura said with a nod. "They're our targets. Let's go get them."

Within a single movement they pushed in the chair, spun around, and walked out the door. With barely a muttered 'sorry', Ui fled, not willing to be left to the hounds. Kikyou stood up and walked out too. With one last bow she closed the door behind her group.

Serika gulped.

"Um, if you want to resign, then I guess our last chance has kind of just abandoned us." She gulped again. "That was meant to be a joke, by the way. Felt that Hoshino not being here kind of…"

She trailed off as the figures started cresting over the dunes. Fifty, or maybe sixty, perhaps even seventy. The tiny force walked out from beneath the window until the group could see them. Shiroko felt a fire heat up her chest as she watched the brave warriors fight against odds that silly people thought was unfair. She fought them. She knew that Schale was made of people with wills like no other.

Everyone else had a completely different thought process, summarized by Nonomi.

"We're boned~!"

Chapter Text

Lifting the weapon above her head recalled the baser origins of their species. Those without halos and the guns that could blow a chunk off the measly campfires that once were man's best friend. Gravity took hold. The butt of the stock was aimed straight down. She could imagine it like those comic books, with a drill of air currents running along the weapon's length. One second of freefall. Two seconds of freefall. The third second of freefall was the last one, timed perfectly for the butt to slam down.

Bam! Straight through the flickering halo, she thwacked the person hard enough that there was an actual bump audible through the thick bed of hair. She landed on her knees, feeling yet another scuff from the trip. That was nothing compared to the victim who just got clobbered, actually bouncing around between their feet before falling face-first. Measly amounts of training were still enough for her to get the feeling ingrained into her muscles, hefting the barrel up against the prone girl's head.

Tsubakura and Kikyou landed shortly after. She pushed herself off, walking a distance away and brushing her uniform off. Tsubakura just walked in front of their captive without even pretending to be offended. That just made her madder.

"Oh. I recognize you," Tsubakura said blandly.

"You mean that I just brained one of your friends!?" Ui wailed.

The girl, remarkably resilient, propped herself onto a knee as if there weren't a welt already growing back there. "I sincerely hope that I don't know a person cynical enough to smash my head in. Atatata! Why didn't you just shoot at me like normal people?"

"It says more about these places than it does about me that I've gotten used to such an absurd sentence," Tsubakura mused.

She had a sudden bout of whiplash, taking in her surroundings so quickly that her stomach started turning into a pretzel.

"Sensei and a member of Hyakkiyako!? Quite the strange pair you two make."

"I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage." Kikyou's face hardened. "Though I would rather if you didn't word it like that."

"Word it like what? You're the only one who has a problem with it," Tsubakura said, exasperated.

Ui was mumbling behind the girl. "She didn't even think that I was important enough to be mentioned. Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing? For some reason I kinda feel offended."

She let out an 'eep' when Chinatsu's head snapped back to her.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't forget about you. However, I doubt there's any position important enough that'd supersede being the person who assaulted me for no reason."

"Alright, enough of threatening my students when you're in the wrong," Tsubakura said. They had to smack their lips afterwards. 'Their' students. That just sounded gross. With a complicated gesture that took Kikyou a moment to understand, they got to work being threatening. It's not as if Chinatsu had any way to know they'd been arguing while being lost all day. A second barrel aimed towards the girl's forehead. "Why don't we cut to the chase and you spill all the secrets that you've got?"

Chinatsu's hands clenched into fists. "You dare say that I'm in the wrong when you're threatening me?"

"I believe that this is far inside of Abydos' jurisdiction." To rub it in, Kikyou made a show of looking around. "Yes, this desert is rather unmistakable. Now that I have a good look at you, you're a rather prominent member of Gehenna, if only because you serve underneath your president. She's a rather major figure in your organization."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Chinatsu asked. Rather than being intimidated or mad, her tone carried more exasperation.

"What a dirty term you're throwing around! I'm the virtuous one in this scenario since I'm your better. Think of this as parole. If you don't go on the straight and narrow by telling us what you've seen here, then we'll have to find a disciplinary alternative," Tsubakura said.

"And what would I care? Abydos is a failing district. Having any sort of reputation with them has the same worth as being friends with a vending machine," Chinatsu said.

"Wouldn't you want a working relationship with Schale, the extrajudicial force who you'll surely work with in the future." The way that her jaw subtly worked made Tsubakura grin. "My my, what an ugly expression you're making. Just know that it's more than likely we'll butt heads again, or perhaps we'll be there to solve a dispute. Wouldn't want me to think of your organization as prone to abusing the weak and ungracious enough to dig in their heels when they're in the wrong, no?"

"Sensei, your logic is fine, but the way that you're saying it is…" Ui trailed off, remembering that they were supposed to be acting threatening.

Chinatsu's tension drained into acceptance. "Are you going to tell anyone about this?"

Tsubakura would crush that dawning hope if they didn't realize that it would make the path ahead harder. Really, that's the logic that they were working on instead of going back to talk with the students in Abydos. It'd be quicker if they happened to run into suspicious people and blasted them into compliance rather than puzzling out the whole nefarious plot of whoever cared about a blasted slice of desert.

"Nah. We're here to solve a problems. No reason for us to raise a stink about this," Tsubakura said.

Chinatsu pried her clenching fingers loose enough that she was starting to look relieved. Success.

"It's not as if my mission itself had anything sensitive in it. I was more worried about my commanding officers hearing that I'd been compromised while out on the field. I'd never hear the end of it." She shook her head, imagining the cruel punishments that Hina would dole out. Normally strict, the girl became a special kind of tyrant whenever one of her subordinates were bested. They were the best of the best; if that best didn't include the actual best in the city, then they'd also suffer through the 'best' training..

"You must've misheard. I asked for what you've seen, not your directives. S'not that hard to get."

And that success wrapped straight back up. She became nearly as defensive as before, angling her body away. One hand even inched towards the rifle that was next to her as if there were any way for her to win in that scenario.

"Sorry, Sensei, but this desert has many different types walking in and out. Revealing why I'm here may not be going against Gehenna's interests, but telling you all the intel I've gathered surely would be."

Kikyou arched her neck over to Tsubakura. "So what was that about violence loosening their lips? As far as I see it, we're engaging in diplomacy."

"Never said diplomacy was useless. Just that violence should always be your first answer. Shows that you mean business." Kikyou dully looked to her fellow subordinate for support. Ui could just provide a shrug. "FIne. Then let's make this simple: there's a gang who's harassing Abydos. Know any shady individuals who may be leading 'em?"

"Shady individuals? There's plenty that come in and out around here."

"Why?"

Chinatsu pointed where they could see the normal district's skyscrapers stand. "The black market. With how weak Abydos is at the moment, it's pitifully easy for a criminal who wants to lay low for a month or fence goods in an indiscreet location to use this place to maneuver. It's become such a problem that the schools around here are starting to get annoyed as they don't have the manpower to police the entire border."

"So who're you after?" Tsubakura asked.

For a moment, they all appreciated how surprisingly breezy it was on top of that building.

"Huh. Guess Sensei's intuition isn't half bad."

"As if that was any wild guess. She's in the middle of the desert with her weapon out. Either she's gone into hiding from her boss, she's after one of these criminal organizations, or she's hunting rabbits." Kikyou folded her string in one hand so the other one could scratch her chin in thought. "Now there's certainly a better assumption that we can make if we're not going to reconvene with Abydos: the black market is rife with information. Even if they're receiving funding from another source, they'd have to retrieve munitions from somewhere. This sort of place would have the exact type of individuals who'd be motivated by money, or the hope that telling the truth would let them avoid a policing force such as ourselves. It's better than destroying a measly pawn's base. I'm convinced. Let's start moving."

"Talking awfully authoritatively when I'm s'posed to be the leader here," Tsubakura noted.

"Please. Not now? I don't wanna be in between your weird arguments again. Can we at least get moving if you want to do it?" Ui pleaded.

Chinatsu felt a little awkward with how long they've continued without her. It was like the interrogation was starting to turn into a conversation over some fun family activity, like a barbecue. "So can I…?"

"You're still here? You're free to go. Go back to, I don't know, counting the grains of sand or whatever you were doing," Tsubakura dismissed.

Their approaching footsteps were the ticking clock of embarrassment. Unfortunately, Ui wasn't the most apt for recognizing these things. Just when her rifle was raising up, an arm pinched just below where her sweater's hem was. The squawk that came out was a noise that even Chinatsu winced at. The other person had much more time to prepare themselves. She wasted it all on backing away and making vague threatening gestures.

"If you grab me like that again, so help me I won't help you with paperwork ever. Taking me out on one of these again? I won't—" she started smaking away the hand that was trying to wrap around her. "Stay away! I will not be picked up like some young maiden in love! A year! A year of free labor and I'd consider it!"

"...should I be looking at this?" Chinatsu asked.

Kikyou's head snapped to the observer. Her hands were fiercely pressing against Tsubakura's face as they drew her closer. "You! Come help me! Shoot them! Do it and I'll see you rewarded beyond your wildest dreams!"

Chinatsu didn't normally consider herself a cruel person. However, when faced with a group that just smacked her so hard that a welt was forming at the back of her head, some sort of instinct that's inside of everybody arose. A little demon named Schadenfreude leapt onto her shoulder and whispered gossip into her ear.

"It's news to me that the Hyakkiyakouren could provide anything that would exceed anybody's dreams. Aren't you losing favor within your own district? I'd imagine that a single incident would be enough to topple your whole group over," Chinatsu smugly said.

That snipe made Kikyou's face turn an apoplectic red.

"You dare—"

Of all the things that Chinatsu was expecting however, it wasn't for the three to suddenly whizz straight off the roof into the horizon like they'd just been shot from a cannon. It wasn't that fast, but there were quite a few cars that wouldn't be able to catch up to their speed. All accounted for, the most baffling part was their acceleration being nearly instant. When she finally realized they were moving over to the black market, the only feature that she could make out was the outline of Tsubakura's hat. Like a missile flying the wrong direction. At least she now knew how they were able to ambush her.

Surely Hina wouldn't punish her for something like that. Even Hina wouldn't expect that, right? Right? That's what she told herself as she worked up the courage to break the news. Normally this slight transgression would be kept under the wraps if it weren't for the intel that would otherwise be impossible to explain. Sensei having strange tricks up their sleeves. Sensei being out and solving problems. Schale already having brought students into its flock. Still not being able to figure out Sensei's gender.

No, she wouldn't tell the truth. She needed a cover story. She saw them fly by and deduced everything from it. No, they didn't see her. Yes, she was certain the members were a cat from the Hyakkiyakouren and some meek looking girl who possibly had a nasty overhead strike. A hologram appeared from her communicator as she prepared to give a status update.

Chapter Text

The vending machines in the black market were sinfully good, in Ui's opinion. It was the stereotypes that she'd heard other members of the Library Committee do with multiple districts. No, she hadn't visited Hyakkiyako's jurisdiction but she was mostly sure that they didn't actually sell underwear in vending machines. The black market however? Everything. Chicken dinners, natto, actual underwear that she tried very hard to not stare at, unmarked drinks, and the sodas that she had to pester other members to pick up for her. They were super rare and not provided everywhere. A third one for Kikyou was balanced on top of the two that she bought for herself, tiny hands once again working against her while the fourth, fifth, and sixth were nudged into her armpit. If she had a plastic bag then she would've stocked up for the next month.

The little hideout that Tsubakura had picked out was wedged between a stall selling soap and a walking-level billboard advertising new bullets called 'Drake Fire Rounds', purportedly with the same idea behind dragon's breath rounds except with electricity; Kikyou dismissed them as nonsense while Tsubakura insisted that they could make them properly functional. For once Sensei was perfectly alert while Kikyou was looking over her weapon. Ui felt that some kind of touch-up was required with every one of them. Being in the city didn't suddenly make them clean. Sand was still wedged between important moving parts. Gun maintenance was the worst time of the year for her and she didn't even want to imagine which parts were gunked up. but that also meant doing maintenance two times a year instead.

Putting all the sodas down on the bench without letting any of them fall was a chore. Once it was done, she slid one down to their other member.

"Sensei," Ui offered. They barely moved from their seat on a newspaper box. Ui would never say it out loud, but she thought that their legs dangling around was cute. "Want one?"

Tsubakura leaned down to read the labeling. "Cherry flavored? You have the seaweed one?"

She recoiled in disgust. "The seaweed drink? Sensei! Those are gross!"

"Hm? Well, if that's what you say. I'll take that if you don't have anything else."

She hesitated before extending the offering. Their slender fingers wrapped around the can and snapped it open. To her horror, they leaned it over and spilled it onto the curb for a second. Outside of their sleeves came a plastic tube. It was black, viscous, coming out in little droplets from the funnel at the top with constant squeezing. Slowly it dropped into the can. When there was an acceptable amount, Tsubakura swirled it around and took a drink.

She didn't want to know. Ui walked back and collapsed on the bench with her own normal drinks, with no mystery ingredients added (beyond whatever went behind the factory's walls). Kikyou was still holding her own, unopened, looking between the two of them.

"Your form during the takedown was impeccable," Kikyou said.

Scrunching her brow, Ui's best response was a stuttered, "u-uh, thanks?"

"Really, it was impressive for somebody who keeps such an untidy appearance. Coordinating the strike hitting from that height while also adjusting yourself to be ready for it in such a small amount of time. I'd embarrass myself attempting the same maneuver. Not to mention the exemplary performance that you'd done when we were both outmanned and outgunned. Really, I'd imagine our most senior members having manifold issues put in the same situation. Though I can take quite a bit of the credit, it'd be a mark of shame for me to ignore the crucial person who carried part of the plan out." She tilted her can towards the girl who was becoming increasingly flustered. "I believe you've mentioned that you're good at paperwork too? A sense of responsibility towards fulfilling the work that you're given? I could exploit a talent like yours. How would you feel transferring to the Hyakkiyako?"

"Eh!?" She looked around rapidly, hoping that some sort of out would come. Nothing happened. Tsubakura didn't even glance back. "I can't just leave behind my children! I'm the only one I trust with the historic books that Trinity has!"

"I see. So you're saying that you'd join if there were books that I could pay you with?" Kikyou asked.

Ui nearly choked. "Pay!?"

The problem wasn't that Kikyou had read a banalized version of her personality that'd get swayed by mere bribery, or that she had any particular loyalty to Trinity that needed to be bribed anyhow; the real problem was that Ui shamefully was intrigued in what kind of historical documents such an ancient school would have.

"You two. Up here."

Her out came with Tsubakura finally zeroing in on their target. Flying would be antithetical to their purposes as they would've been conditioned to keep an eye to the skies. Even as the mosquitos started spreading around the cooling air, the black market's crowds hadn't dulled even a single person, as plenty of vagrants were specifically night owls.

There they were, spreading out pamphlets on the other side of the street. Nothing that'd suggest anything wrong except for such a cheery salesman being in one of the most dangerous parts of town. Cheesy neon lights started flickering on even with the sun still up, all the opaque windows having streaks of color dripping down their frames. Vantage points were aplenty; at some point, Tsubakura had to wonder if they were intentionally placed there for firefights. Balconies without railings definitely sounded as if it were violating some sort of statute. Stone pillars that served no purpose other than looking neat. Plenty of larger-than-average dumpsters that would still allow a person to fire over the crowd's heads.

Tsubakura wanted to be thorough. The second that they caught the person, it had turned into a stakeout to find the best method of ambush. From above? Below? Wait for the crowd to leave? Nearly thirty minutes had passed and Tsubakura decided that it was getting too late to reasonably finish their mission if they continued to stall.

"We're going to ambush that person in the blue jacket handing out the pamphlets. I'm going to assume that they're protected in some way, so we need a plan. Get up to that balcony, Kikyou."

"Would it kill you to refer to me with some sort of honorific?" Kikyou groused.

Tsubakura ignored her. "Ui, stand on top of that vending machine that you got the sodas from. When you see me walking out here, take the shot."

"Shall I be the one to make the droll observation that they don't have a halo?" Kikyou asked.

Immediately Ui started making the connections. "Are they also from where Sensei's from?"

"Oh nooo. My mysterious backstory…"

Kikyou didn't bother complaining anymore. She looked up at the balcony where Sensei expected her to set up. Part of an apartment complex, which was most likely full of fronts for illegal clubs. Noticeably lacking a fire exit, though the pale stains indicated where those once were. It was probably full of illegal clubs anyways, she silently repeated as she scaled alongside the window sills and exposed piping. Most of it was out of sight from most of the street and those who saw her barely blinked before looking away. Keeping your nose out of trouble was the rule of the black market.

Eventually she grasped the twisted iron of the balcony. With a single heft, she flung straight over the railing. Hands double checked every piece of equipment. The rifle rested against the railing that barely reached up to her waist as her eyes swept over the area. Though some of the residents warily glanced at her, nobody had sounded the alarm yet. Ammo in. Press the knob, twist. The satisfying click made her smile.

"Um."

She nearly flung the entire rifle behind her in surprise. A red-haired student was sitting with their cheeks full, eyes wide, rice ball clutched mid-bite. They both stared at each other for a few moments. Her unwary gaze kept flickering around for anything that suggested the room was about to be raided by a goody two shoes student. The rice jar was still open on the counter and leftover meat laid in the cling wrap. None of it was stolen! Absolutely nothing that'd get the cops on her butt. With her guns also laying on the counter next to the knife that she used, all the cards were in the hands of the invading party. An Empty Pantry, Akashi Junko, using two STG 44s because she wanted more firepower yet loved her personally crafted red gun so much that she simply replicated it. It was one of the only purchases she'd made other than food.

Her fingers tapped against the rice ball. It was amazing. She'd made an amazing plate of them. Only losing a single one technically wasn't the end of the world, but for some reason it felt like she was losing.

The offering was lifted up towards eye-level.

"Rice ball?"

Kikyou thought about it. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. Sensei insisted on getting everything done in a single day and hadn't given them a break since.

The rice perfectly stuck together without losing form. Warmth exuded into her palm. The first hints of flavor that hit her tongue were little explosions of bliss that reminded her why life was worth living.

"Salmon! Tastes like good quality too. This must've been worth a pretty penny," Kikyou complimented.

Junko's eyebrow twitched. "...it was."

The gun's butt found itself against Kikyou's shoulder. The reticle was hovering near the target but not directly aiming straight at them. With a little readjustment she'd have the perfect angle. Checking to her sides, Ui was positioned on top of a line of vending machines. Her arm resting against her knee was used as a mount for the rifle. Admiration came over Kikyou again. Sure, it wasn't the perfect form that would guarantee no injuries (she'd imagine that her fellow member, Renge, would lambast a member trying the same position) but she was too overcome with awe to take issue with such a measly problem; the girl was given an order, and she fulfilled it to the best of her ability. She resolved to continue harrying the girl to change schools.

Tsubakura stepped out. Their target suddenly moved. Her aim adjusted.

Boom!

Boom!

Incidentally, there was a small fire that was happening in the building next to where the target was standing. Nothing major—'major' being of consequence to anybody in the black market or themselves. They just stepped around the arguing firefighters and went about their day as the previously minor fire started leaking from the windows. Two girls, wearing firefighter suits that were made for people about twice their size, were screaming back and forth about who had the seniority of pipe spraying. Eventually the second one grabbed its neck in a fit of childish rage while the water was still on. The ensuing tug of war pointed the nozzle straight up, raining all over the nearby passerby. That gave the firefighters a wider berth as the unpredictable spray started getting over to the other side of the street.

Kikyou's shot was slightly off. Being overeager, she flung the barrel of her gun straight over the blue hoodie and onto the sleek black. The person who initially started the argument was beaned in the head. Without the counterforce working against them, the second firefighter was flung straight on their back with the hose still in their hand. Its nozzle writhed in her grip.

It just happened that above them was a balcony. There was a tiny office for a relatively new and unknown mercenary group who'd been trying to make their big break. Outside was her space, nobody else's. It was her space because she was the only member of the team that had any sense of aesthetic tastes. Even if hers generally strayed towards the dark academia and depressing, she still had appreciation for many styles. Neatness too. Neatness was a big one. Otherwise there'd be leftover chip bags and to-go cups everywhere.

After making sure that the dropouts there wouldn't mind, she hung a birdfeeder that regularly got visitors. Generally they were of the muddy gray variety that would gladly walk in front of cars; on good days, she'd have a brilliant plumed beauty keeping her company. Lined alongside the ground was a diverse array of plants that she built up with her extra budget. Though the droplets of water that came from below were annoying, she did her best to ignore the bit of moisture flicking onto her bare legs. White Heart Black Morals, Onikata Kayoko, a two-tone P30 that went with the rest of her outfit generally hidden away somewhere in her baggy clothes.

She loved her little no-Haruka, no-Mutsuki (mostly no-Mutsuki) area. She still objected to them taking out a lease for a new place that was putting them in the yellow.

Anyways, the reason that she was important in this instance wasn't the bullet that pierced through the watering can she was using—the first one fired by Ui. Nor the second one that sliced through the bird feeder's cage—the second one fired by Ui. It wasn't even the one that broke the sliding glass door—still the second one fired by Ui. It was the final shot that bounced off her hand and made her flinch. Her foot twitched slightly forwards and nudged one of her potted plants.

Down, down it fell. The downed firefighter, holding the hose, barely let out an 'ow' from falling onto her back out before getting clobbered by a potted plant. Her grip loosened and the beast started flying around.

The hose wasn't to be contained, thrashing without reason. The final firefighter who'd been watching the fight made an attempt to wrangle the hose. She ran around in a circle, chasing around the tip that wriggled from one end of the street to the other. One wrong ripple and the hose bounced against the ground, spraying itself upwards in an arc. The girl looked up, dumbfounded, before the metal nozzle smashed straight down onto her head.

Tsubakura closed their eyes and sighed. An easy takedown completely bungled.

Their target walked through the wave of water that obscured them. Their arms were crossed, a wry expression that made Tsubakura just slightly more annoyed than normal. Astute people would note that there wasn't a drop of water on them. They'd been helpfully handing out advertisements for a new bank that was willing to give out loans to practically anybody, including the shady gangs that ducked out from obligations from all the major black market banks. It was their suggestion; after learning from their previous home, they decided that supplementing easy bank loans with squads of morally scrupulous individuals who'd extract unwilling recipients with morally scrupulous violence was extremely profitable. So far it had been a success and they couldn't be happier. Weak-willed Youngest Child, Shitodo Aoji, with the ability to create whirlpools out of anything.

"What's up with that kind of greeting? Usually there's a 'hello' and 'hi' before we start talking about self-defense," Aoji said.

"Those sort of greetings are meaningless when we've known each other for so long," Tsubakura said.

"You've known Kuro-jii, not me!"

"Those who are caught rarely err. They make every interaction a short affair. It sounds as if you haven't learned your lesson, Aioli."

"Aoji."

Kikyou landed on the ground in a crouch, her haori concealing her entire body when she crouched. She stood up and lifted her chin.

"Thankfully, Sensei is not a literature teacher."

"No, but I can certainly teach you a thing or two about shooting," Tsubakura said, irritated.

Kikyou couldn't suppress the blush that inflamed half her face. "That was mere happenstance. It's not as if Kozaki-san did any better."

The girl in question was just walking towards them, precociously cradling her sniper. "Somebody took something from the vending machine that I was on. It made it shake a lot. Or maybe my aim is off because I'm tired? Sorry, everybody."

"And now you've got minions too? Sometimes I forget that you and Kuro-jii are cut from the same cloth," Aoji mumbled.

Kikyou's cold stare centered at their opponent. "Employees. Not minions, Aioli."

Aoji glared back. "I'm not playing along if you keep doing this! I can take it from Yabusame because they're an idiot! I know that you all know my name!"

"You're rather nonchalant after being fired at, Aioli," Ui said.

That got the boy exuberantly happy despite the situation.

"Oh! I'm trying to work on being unflappable! What d'you think?"

"Being a doormat doesn't make you unflappable," Kikyou said with a sigh. "I've heard people describe me as such, and it isn't due to a lack of passion."

"So why'd we even shoot at this person? They seem relatively reasonable if they aren't raising a big stink over being shot at," Ui asked.

"...they didn't even know why?"

Tsubakura sighed again, making a show of readjusting their clothes. "I've gotten a new job: teaching. Showing all the kids around here the ropes. Naturally that involves teaching them how to—"

"Teaching them to be public nuisances obviously. You've scared everybody off!"

The fighter's heads turned around to a newcomer. Unsurprisingly, most of the street had vacated when the shots had been fired. Though even for Kivotos, the amount who stuck around were much higher than expected for those that weren't used to the black market culture. Some had their phones out while others had taken out their own guns to prevent looters. It was a singular brave soul who stood against two different armed people alongside an adult sponsoring them. All the merchandise that she'd just bought was somewhere behind one of the stalls so it wouldn't be damaged in the ensuing battle. Cold Hearted Collector, Ajitana Hifumi, an Enfield L85A2 carried around with the same frequency as her favorite Peroro merchandise—meaning that it never left her side even when sleeping.

"Look at what you've done! Shoot at an innocent bystander who doesn't even have a halo! Scared an entire street of people! The store owner cowered into his back rooms, making me lose out on Peroro! I've been out here for weeks and I finally found the piece of merchandise that would complete my collection from '07. I've fought off thugs and done things that I'm not proud of only for you three to do this! And you're also doing it for no good reason! I won't tolerate it!"

"Peroro?" Ui slipped out.

Hifumi only got more angry, actually stomping her foot into the ground. "See!? People who don't know about Peroro must be bad!"

"Ugh. The Hyakkiyako don't have nearly as many weird people in it. Just another showing of how elite we are," Kikyou groused.

"And so the perpetrator reveals their alliance. Might as well tell me everything: I'll make sure to fulfill this vendetta one way or another."

Another girl dropped down. Her usually placid expression was twisted in annoyance, wet hands loosely holding a pistol.

Despite the girl leveling her gun at the other side, she felt more confused than grateful. "Eh? Another one?"

"Count me in on this beatdown." Ui shrank when Kayoko's gaze centered on her. "I've got a favor to pay back."

"It was the vending machine. The vending machine!" Ui yelled.

That didn't change anything. Kayoko already started aiming down with her weapon.

"Good to see so many allies of justice! With this much firepower on one side, we'll quickly break down the force of evil! Prepare for trouble! Tempest of Justice, Uzawa Reisa! Everybody is free to call me Reisa-chaaaaan!"

"Chaaan?" Ui repeated weakly.

"Except the no-good evildoers who'll be punished like the rest of them! Might as well give up now, because the Friend to the Good, Uzawa Reisa, has entered the scene!"

Their new arrival slid in the center of the irate girls, with a conspicuous star halo floating above them, spinning around about as excitedly as the girl. She ran up to the center of their fight and was bouncing from one foot to the other. Each one of her movements had to be as exaggerated as possible. Legs shuffling, hands wiggling around, arms flapping, and she hadn't stopped talking about justice since entering the scene. It was slowly grating against everybody's nerves. Even the storekeepers who were hoping for the fight to get done with started drifting their attentions to more important things. Some would take the hint. She didn't even know what 'hint' meant. Moth to Crime, Uzawa Reisa, a DP-12 that she went to town (read: ruined) with spray cans one evening in the name of personalization.

"Justice will be swift! It will be delicious!"

"Hey."

"If there's no police force, then I'd be long gone from the earth! I'm the Arbiter of Justice!"

"She's still going?"

"Let us become a gaggle to restore peace to the streets! Broken windows beget an unstable society!"

"I personally never thought that was true…"

"So to defeat the evildoers—"

Kayoko reached over and clamped the girl's mouth shut. "Anybody else want to jump in? Might as well make an offer. Just don't wait until we're already fighting."

"What a polite invitation! Guess I'll come in. Shooting always ruins the mood for eating."

A familiar figure leapt down into the same crouch that Kikyou had done earlier. Ui very nearly lost her balance in shock from the sudden arrival.

"Seriously?" Kikyou groaned.

Junko stood up, slinging her rifle up to her shoulder in good cheer. "Hey, buddy in eating! Anybody that can tell that I've used quality ingredients is good company. Obviously the guy you were tryna assassinate deserved it!"

Reisa puffed her chest out, hands on her hips. "You appreciate people that eat? I eat too! We can eat afterwards in—"

"Nah."

"Then you'll be felled for justice! The justice of beating anybody that gets in our way!"

"The justice for interrupting my Peroro purchase!"

"Then we can extract money as reparations!" Aoji happily interjected.

Kayoko's expression became more aggrieved the more that her allies talked. "Ugh. If only my potted plant killer was the unreasonable one. You three have barely talked since so many people have gotten here."

Tsubakura was unsurprised as always. It was the students who looked between themselves to realize that something which would've gotten a gigantic reaction at the start of the day had blended into the new normal they'd become accustomed to. Were they truly learning under Sensei? No, both recognized; they'd just been trudging through a desert for most of the day. As the remaining daylight was starting to burn into wisps, true tiredness had started to set in. They wanted to be finished with the investigation. Even being directly mentioned barely got much of a reaction from either of the girls.

The other side couldn't be the same. Hifumi and Reisa both looked aggrieved.

"Reasonable!? You're the—"

A blast made everybody on the street jump. Reisa was suddenly sent flying, her limbs trailing behind her torso. The window of the apartment behind her shattered into pieces as it embraced her. Everybody looked over to the smoking barrel of Ui's gun.

"You know," she started, taking note of every reaction, "I think that I'm starting to understand your mantra of shooting first, Tsubakura-sensei. At least in missions like these."

"Though this all happened in the first place since we'd missed," Kikyou said.

"Then next time don't miss? I dunno," Ui reasoned.

"Get you guys a third member! Better yet, a fourth! The more gun barrels the better 'cause that means there's more chances for something to hit! A full army is best, but I doubt you'll get enough people to work towards your unreasonable goals," Junko said.

Another shot. This one shattered the glass behind Ui. The smoking gun was held by an impassive Kayoko.

Without further ado, the battle finally lit up in gunfire. It was chaotic. Unorganized as they were, students leapt for any cover that was nearby. When that was inevitably shot out, they'd go for the next piece. No sort of communication or coordination was present on either side. So cars would blow up with the vulnerable person running from their cover to the next. Bullets from the others were slow, allowing the original shooter only a few potshots into their retreating back before they were safe again. Rinse and repeat until Reisa came out the apartment, guns blazing. With no concept of safety, she ran straight into the middle of the battle with the bullets that impacted barely enough to make her flinch.

Tsubakura ignored the fight as best they could, which was by flying. It was no surprise to see that the target had flown up to a balcony as far above as they could. They were literally tiptoeing into the building, knowing that otherwise Tsubakura would spot them like a bird of prey.

"Running away, Aoji?"

Aoji leapt in place, slowly turning around with a forced smile. "They're pumped up. All they need is moral support. Ah, you're not going to shoot me down again, are you?"

Tsubakura floated backwards until they were fully reclining. "Nah. Truth is, haven't been feeling any fight since coming here."

"That's unlike you," Aoji said.

"Teaching's taking all my energy. So give me the details. You already said Kuroji's here. Might as well tell me everything."

"You just said that you haven't felt like fighting, but you're giving off a really scary feeling all of a sudden." Aoji coughed into their sleeve, trying and failing to think of an excuse. "Kuro-jii wouldn't be too happy that I gave information for free, especially if it's about our business activities."

Tsubakura finally got angry, voice descending into a hiss. "I could care less about what fools you're swindling. Unfortunately, I've been hooked on a job about the desert. Some freaks think they can disturb the public order by bullying Abydos—unless you're implying that it's your doing too, in which case I can gladly deliver you to the other side."

Aoji's pretend fear solidified into another look of joy.

"Oh! You want to deal with one of our rivals? That's great! There's plenty of upstart gangs who are entrenching themselves into the area, but it's all a ruse. All of them have someone acting as a benefactor: Kaiser Corporation, mysterious individuals who seem to be outsiders like us, Red Winter, and a few other smaller academies. It's all very mysterious. I'd be very glad to tell you where the most obvious of those freaks are. That'd be enough, right?"

"I assume soon enough the Shitodo's are going to be among those ranks?" Tsubakura broached.

"If Kuro-jii's got anything to say about it, then it'll happen!" Aoji's expression turned faux-sympathetic. "Recently I've heard that there's been large shipments of unmarked trucks going into the desert through here. Nearly everyday there's one heading towards the last highway that connects with the desert's heartland, usually around when the sun falls. Oh! It'd be right around now, in fact. I can't even imagine what they're plotting over there. I've even heard that these are the same people who've been recruiting all the manpower in the area. They're not even leaving scraps behind for us!"

"Still got that same Shitodo blood in you. Rotten to the core."

"We're just providing a bit of friendly competition!"

They looked down at the fight that was happening, bored. One of the students mounted another, trying and failing to butt their rifle onto the prone student's forehead.

"Mm. Guess I'll just ask about how your family came here when I knock Kuroji's head open. Feel lucky? I'm sparing you." Tsubakura rolled their eyes at the first genuine emotion that came from the boy: a look of sheer relief. "I'm getting myself a drink while we talk. Want one?"

"Sure. Got any good flavors?"

"Broccoli, seaweed…"

"Nooooo!"

The outcome of the fight didn't really matter. Well, it mattered in that there was an obvious effect from it. Ui actually ended up exchanging numbers with Kayoko (purportedly to make up for destroying the poor potted plant, but secretly because she wanted tips for how to design her living space to be slightly more fashionable. Her sense of aesthetics started and ended at what was practical for her work, and she was tired of being made fun of for it.) and Kikyou exchanged numbers with Junko (mostly at the latter's insistence). Plenty of property damage happened. Both girls were much more tired, mostly from the wasted effort of trying to use their ammo-less guns as melee weapons during the latter part of the fight. Thankfully plenty of ammunition vending machines were available which gave them the boost for the last part of the mission. Nothing other than soda was keeping them awake when the last of the sun was crackling on the horizon.

Swirling below were clouds of dust that hadn't yet dissipated from the earlier stampede of vehicles. A front was created that cloaked the ground, making them hover slightly above it. For fun their feet were trailing down on the peaks of the popcorn-shaped clouds. Ui was slightly disappointed. It was the same experience where the fluffiest clouds would merely feel like brief misty sprays against their skin in the same way that beautiful cyan waters would be the same as the free pool provided in Trinity that she never used. In the same way skidding across the orange puffs that broke off from the brown rolling mass didn't feel like it should. Instead of their feet skidding against physical wind, it was more uncomfortable than anything. Sand got where it didn't, as normal. It was hot. By this point there was a mixture of sweat and dust that caked onto her skin below the second layer of crusted sweat and dust, which was an armor keeping her from being bothered by the third layer of sweat and dust.

Kicking her feet around made them wobble a little. Flying was awesome but she really wished that she could do it herself. The idea made her side eye their transport. What if? She'd never heard of magic being taught, but then again she never heard of magic in the first place. Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When they finally were spat out from the clouds, all signs of productive civilization had gone. Two endless deserts were at both sides.

"It's so wide! And beautiful," Ui said. She still liked to hold her hands out like she was the one flying.

"And wasted with how the district turned out," Kikyou couldn't help but point out.

Below was a monstrous 20 lane highway splitting straight through the desert. Being where the desertification first started, giant unearthly dunes nearly capsized the asphalt. The pillars of concrete were holding up the best out of anything else in the district; the Construction Club who built it bragged that it would last through the apocalypse. Speeding as they were, the lanes blurred into stripes below. It was a view that few would ever get. Especially with how fast that they were going, it was breathtaking looking at the black river running from both ends of the horizon. Ui couldn't stop herself from whipping around each end to try and sear the image into her memory. Kikyou learned that closing her eyes prevented the terror of heights gripping her.

The trucks that they were supposed to be trailing had long sped ahead of them. Tsubakura figured that it'd be okay. All the exits had a thin layer of sand on top of them, letting any tire tracks be visible. Wherever it exited, they'd know.

"With how reluctant you were earlier, I'm surprised that you're enjoying the desert this much," KIkyou said.

Each second made the details below them fade into each other. It was another feeling watching the light fade from the warm colors into a cooler beauty. Ui couldn't get enough of it. Even if her indoor eyes were straining against the bright sky, she couldn't say that she regretted it.

"That's different. Being down there and getting hot and sweaty and dirty sucks. This feeling of flying…I love it! I'd probably go outdoors more if I could do this all the time." Ui paused, thinking to herself. "Well, maybe not that far."

"Trust me: flying doesn't make going outside anymore appealing," Tsubakura said.

"Shush. Be a good beast of burden and carry us while remaining as silent as possible. It's the least you could do, making us stay out this late," Kikyou said.

"So I've been reduced to a tour guide? Quite the demotion. Or are they paid more than teachers?"
"How boorish that our sensei is only focused on their paycheck," Kikyou said.

Ui shook her head, being in a good enough mood to play along. "My motto has always been to follow what you care about. Think about all that lost time worrying about a stupid job and you'll never look back."

"That so? Keep up that attitude when you're paying the bills. We'll see how far that love's going to carry you. Humility ain't a solid foundation for everything, y'know," Tsubakura said.

"Your ramblings frequently find themselves in contradiction. It's a wonder how you can have any sort of sincerity in your life living as such."

"To sincerity there belongs ceaselessness. Not ceasing, it continues long. Continuing long, it evidences itself."

Kikyou rolled her eyes. "Evidencing itself, it reaches far. Reaching far, it becomes large and substantial. Large and substantial, it becomes high and brilliant. We may be high, but I doubt there could be a brilliant thing in your coal-like body."

"It contains all things, spreads to all things, and perfects all things," Ui continued. "The Way is meant to be all at once, but you're not meant to leave the path which it deems to be the Way. I think we've gotten lost too many times, Sensei."

"I think that it's cherry picking either way. There certainly is no concord around here~," Kikyou said.

"And what is up with my students thinking that they're sages?" Tsubakura bit back. Whatever retort they could've made was swallowed when a pink speck far below became visible. "Well look at that? We've spotted a target."

Kikyou's eyes narrowed. She really wished that they had some sort of briefing. It was hard to discern which faction a student was working for at a glance. "You're right. Looks like we have to interrogate her."

Lowering down made the details of the highway more distinct. Perhaps it was always desert where they stood? No buildings stood above highway-level, neither did any of the streetlights work. If there were a truer vision of the apocalypse than Tsubakura was in no rush to find it. Even worse was the pristine nature of the ground they touched down on. Cracks were nearly absent. Pot holes too. From the red atmosphere and scratchy air, nothing seemed to be fitting together. Stars shone as the sky became darker.

Staying awake through an entire day had done a number on her system. Already she'd been losing sleep from the late night patrols and stress that came with their position, compounded by the further stress when offered a deal that would bail her district out. Everything had come down upon her. Perhaps none of her decisions had been logical, but she was starting to be done with logic; it's what got them into the mess in her opinion, with barely enough students to be called a school. One Thousandth Year Old Prodigy, Takanashi Hoshino, her trusty 1301 shotgun currently with the only spare ammunition that she could fit in her pockets.

She stopped when the group interrupted her path. No great reaction came forth from them landing. Only a flicker of annoyance passed through those heterochromatic eyes.

"...geeze. Don't you three know how to respect your elders? It'd be better to leave them alone when they want their alone time. Let them have their brief moments of quiet. We don't get 'em very often, after all," Hoshino complained.

"She was walking further into the desert," Ui noted.

"Which, unless they're both completely blind, means that she and the vehicle passed by each other. Strange how there was no reaction from either side," Kikyou continued.

"This is also far past where the school is or—" Ui actually double-checked to make sure that it was still scenic nowhere for miles—"anything, really. Conspicuously when it's getting dark too."

"Passing marks all 'round," Tsubakura said.

Hoshino finally snapped, raising her voice. "Is this all a game to you three!? Who even are you!?"

"Schale's here~," Tsubakura greeted.

"We really are the worst people gathered for advertising. I think it'd take a fool to be comforted by our presence," Ui lamented.

"It takes a fool to ask for help in the first place," Kikyou said. "We're all fools, in some way or the other. It'd be equally foolish to expect safety from us, or to underestimate us. We've continuously been able to produce results yet we're made of rather unreasonable individuals. If only Nagusa or Yukari were here, even Renge. They'd provide some sort of cheer to counteract our gloomy disposition, provide a stronger rein for Sensei's unreasonable demands."

"Shimiko would definitely be great at that sort of thing," Ui mumbled. The smile that formed was bright and airy, brightening her face into a youthful spring that normally was absent. "But we're doing good! We'll continue doing good! So tell us, miss: are you here to help or not? We've beaten up a lot of people and we'll continue doing it for anyone who's messing with Abydos."

"Help," Hoshino mumbled. She huffed, some sort of wry grain coloring her words. "That would've been nice weeks ago. It would've been nice if you came when our guns were running empty and we started to have to scavenge the fallen gangs' leftover ammunition. It would've been nice if you convinced Shiroko not to get herself in trouble for robbery. So many things that we tried because our last desperate plea for help was ignored. Now you're here. Are you going to say that I'm meant to be grateful?"

Kikyou narrowed her eyes, already taking her rifle in hand. "It sounds as though you're resisting. We may have to fall back towards Sensei's brand of diplomacy. We need a discrete name for our maneuver. 'Schale's Discretion'?"

"We could also do something in the vein of 'Incident Resolution'. Oh ho. I like that," Tsubakura said.

Across from them, Hoshino was seething. She wanted to keep cool. She wasn't at her best. It's what happened when you had gone through the extreme stress that she had. You made multiple mistakes and didn't fix anything. She had gone through the procedure that she thought the creepy adult wanted and didn't even know if she was remembering everything correctly since she'd heard the deal after pulling an all-nighter. Throwing her gun around for emphasis finally captured their audience's attention. The handle was grasped and leveled towards the people in front of her. Sensei, subordinate, it didn't matter. She just wanted one of them to feel the frustration and despair that she felt at that moment.

"Do you hear yourselves!? You're making fun of me and everyone in this district! You're all selfish! You're cruel! You come here and make a mockery of my memories and sacrifice! What do you know!?"

"We know that no matter how you feel, we're going to shut this case! I'm tired and disgusting! I wanna go home and not do anything for the next week and you're in the way of that!" Ui yelled.

"This can't be a game for me, 'cause this is my booze money." Tsubakura's eyebrow twitched when their students looked at them. "What? Honesty's the best policy, after all."

Kikyou rolled her eyes as she aimed straight between the eyes. "We sound as if we're speaking in jest, and as I've already said, you'd be a fool to trust us. In the same way, you've chosen to fight, proving that you're still a fool. Have no fear. We'll have extracted what we need from you and continue moving soon enough."

"You don't know who you're talking to," Hoshino simply said.

"In the same way that—"

Nothing could've prepared her for something faster and stronger than a bullet to hit her eyelid. Some of those projectiles punching the same spots multiple times to make her reel back in a constant backstep. Landing on her back didn't hurt nearly as much as the lasers that were drilling straight through her lungs.

Kikyou and Ui looked back at Tsubakura. Six blobs of black were orbiting around them. At the stares, they just gave a shrug.

"Usually I'm fine with pre-battle banter, post-battle, what have you, but the end of the day's coming. We need to get moving if we're going to sleep on our beds and the small fry stalling us s'gonna take too long," Tsubakura said.

Finally Hoshino's lungs started working again. She forced out a chuckle that sounded more like a tire being pierced. "Small fry? That's—"

A pained wheeze ended her sentence before her head fell back towards the ground.

"Why did we even come along again?" Ui said. She groaned, letting her face fall into her hands. "You could've just done all this yourseeeelf."

"Didn't I already say? S'dividing the work. I don't want to work and you two didn't want to work either." They reached behind themselves, scratching the back of their neck. "Though if I'm forced t'be honest, it's mostly because I've gotten an attitude change. Originally I was trying to fit in as well as possible and leave all the work to the students—you two."

There was a beat of silence.

"You meant that to be a grand reveal, didn't you?" Kikyou said with a glare.

Ui only managed a slight grunt of discomfort, thinking about the years needed to restore her personal space. It was a mystical place that was meant to make people uncomfortable when they trespassed it. For Tsubakura and Kikyou to have easily slid by meant that it needed to be reinstated. Arms hooked around their waists and they were taking off once again.

Within seconds they had reduced the street to a gash on the planet. Within half a minute they were speeding even faster than before. As Tsubakura expected, a dome of light quickly became visible. It was well off from the highway and would require them to take some time to advance there. The truck that they'd seen earlier was blowing up clouds of dust as it drove on the dunes. They passed it quickly, not looking back.

Tsubakura started speaking again. "Y'see, I wanted to avoid the attention 'cause it seemed like it was gonna be a big hassle, but this whole thing convinced me that it isn't that simple. Schale is going to be expected to constantly spit out results. That means we're not going to be expected to only deal with this big fish that's directly threatening a school; we'll be asked to stomp down on the rats that'll leap up on the power vacuum once we're done here. Add onto every district that's in this city and very quickly we have an unmanageable situation."

"No way! Schale can't have every problem put onto it! We have a ton of things over in Trinity that they don't want to become public!" Ui said.

Kikyou was the one to interrupt. "You seem to not understand, Kozeki-san. I remember the president: she was a surgical tool, coming down when major problems in our district required a firm yet neutral hand. You are relatively low on the ladder so the sheer scale of problems that she'd have personally fixed in Trinity would naturally be unknown to you—blessed too with having a leader who managed to stand out less than Sensei here. She knew when to be indiscreet and when to advertise herself. You may have only heard her admissions during her interviews, but every district felt her touch constantly."

The librarian slumped, becoming as loose as her clothes. "N-No way. It's that bad?"

"Tsubakura-sensei's estimation is correct: Schale underperforming is creating a mismatch of expectations. The General Student Council wants to keep the peace and the president was previously a massively influential figure who would discreetly cut red tape to carry out her vision. Take her seeming replacement being much more languid, there being a recent city-wide disaster, and a major figure in the law enforcement of the city disappearing, and you have created a wary General Student Council. This first yank on their leash won't be the last." Despite her words, there was a sense of humor that slipped through with a sly smile. "What they're complaining about is that the General Student Council will coerce them into working more, and I believe that to be an accurate analysis."

"I'm only working ten hour weeks, by the way. I've mentioned that, didn't I?" Ui quickly asked.

Tsubakura huffed through their nose. "Alright, alright. Let's change tracks here: have I mentioned anything about my previous job?"

Ui and Kikyou looked between themselves. It was Ui who spoke for the both of them. "No?"

"Mm. Well, I won't get into the nitty gritty, but the broad overview is that I was part of an extrajudicial force that, coincidentally, also had a massive figure nab Yabusame and I so they could play hooky."

"The same role as you have now!?" Kikyou asked, genuinely shocked.

"Pretty much the exact same role. The thing is from the way that you've described this previous girl is that she was more of the planning type. Y'see, the person who I inherited the role of was the exact opposite. If there was a small problem then they came down with overwhelming, disproportionate force," Tsubakura said.

"Uwah. Can't say that I like that. Sounds like this guy was a real piece of work," Ui said. She imagined them to be a buff guy that stood twice the height of anyone else in the room.

"Obviously they were, since they kidnapped me and some other people during the hiring process." They rolled their eyes, realizing how easy it was to get sidetracked. "Point is that this place is different. There's way more people, and thus problems. There's way more responsibilities to inherit, and it somehow looks even more unstable."

"Is there a point to this rambling?" Kikyou asked. Despite the words, her tone was genuinely curious.

What was under the light proved to be much more interesting than anyone would've expected. Miles of barbed wire encased an entire facility. It looked to have risen straight out of the desert, being a patch of gray in a wavy expanse. Gray with giant boxes of steel, pipes of concrete, along with enough infrastructure to support everything. Above ground wiring and buildings that looked like dormitories. Catwalks and towers everywhere with spotlights searching the area. Concrete roadblocks that looked to have been placed more for the convenience of cover than actually stopping any cars from passing, which Tsubakura found reasonable enough.

"It's…" Ui lost her voice at the compound that compared to the size of a school. She pointed down at the largest of the buildings, with complicated webs of wires and pipes acting as the walls. "They built all this in the middle of nowhere!? Is this even legal?"

"I don't see why not if they own the land," Kikyou said. It still spoke of a feat of engineering she was having trouble comprehending too. Suddenly that great distance they flew over seemed even larger, imagining having to make that commute whenever you wanted to go back into Kivotos' heart. The more that she thought about it, the more imposing that the place became.

They were floating straight above the center of the place. Tsubakura made sure that they remained upwind of the pipes even if they weren't on.

"Where was I? Oh yeah. So I've heard a little about your dictator that everyone talks about but I'm not too familiar with her. Unfortunately, because I was at my previous job way longer, I know about that dictator more than this one. I know of their approach even if we were a lot more laissez-faire with our work."

Kikyou's brow started twitching. "First of all, I'm not even going to lecture you on the differences between the president and this so-called dictator. Secondly, I fail to see how you've found a way to solve the problems of Abydos. These may not even be the people who used the gang. It could be another unrelated group! What are you intending to do?"

"Simple: we're gonna kill a whole flock of birds with one stone by using the methods of my own dictator. We'll show 'em what happens when they don't play nice. Doesn't matter that we hit the right guys 'cause it sounds like nobody here is innocent. Even if they're the wrong ones, the right ones will understand the message; if they don't, we do this again. Me being a li'l different from the students here will provide the force whereas having students by my side will be the familiar connection to the general public. Mhm. Sounds good 'nough. Really don't get enough praise for my plans I make in five minutes." Tsubakura spied the largest building. "Smokestacks on this aren't on. Probably the best that we're going to get."

"What are you—"

It became an event that was only recorded on a single phone. What was an unfunny video about two robots being super drunk off a can of oil was interrupted by a streak of light that pierced the sky. Calling it light was in itself a misnomer but there wasn't an accurate nor widely accepted way that they could ascribe to the attack. Blackness was mixed in there, yet clearly it had to be a color. Because against the darkness of the night sky, they could clearly delineate from the blackness of the beam from the emptiness of space. Twisting around with it was a white bright enough that it colored the ground below into a milky dread while being soft enough for the workers to stare directly at it.

When the building suffered contact, a perfectly circular hole was drilled from one end to the other. And that's when the explosions started.

Tsubakura was floating just above the empty street in a lazy drift. After dropping off their students, they were ready to just go back home and fall asleep.

A black limo technically interrupted their path. They could continue floating past, but their toes would drag on the roof.

The window whirred down. A single, glowing white eye stared at them.

"Hello, Sensei. Or would you prefer Tsubakura-sensei?"

"I'd prefer to be home," they said.

"Tsubakura-sensei then. I've heard a lot about you. Your appetite for research—fascinating."

"Uh huh."

"And your conduct during your little excursion in Abydos was legendary. I barely caught wind of it when you were wrapping up your business with Kaiser's facility. Their vision isn't extended outside Abydos, beyond this little pool. I know that yours is. It has to be. You've come from outside, after all." The man's cryptic smile, a jagged white line, stretched further. "Let me ask: you've obviously noticed the cracks that exist here. All the problems that don't seem to add up. Surely within your two weeks here, you've found things that simply cannot be attributed to culture shock."

"Sure." Tsubakura brushed a lock out of their eyes. Everything felt dirty. "So you're the ones who pulled the strings during this whole thing and I unraveled your plans by my slight brute force?"

That was a complete guess that had no basis in logic.

"You're even smarter in person. But, despite your guess being good, it is innacurate. The desert? Mere nature letting a disaster wreak havoc as it always will do. Kaiser's greed was balanced out by their own savviness in immediately exploiting the dying school. Hiring mercenaries and small gangs to do their dirty work is a tale as old as the corporation. No, the most our hand could've been felt was in making certain actors desperate where they needed to be. Other than that, this has all been an organic process, however organic the Mystics can be."

"So just exploiting a bad situation and making it worse," Tsubakura said. The eyeroll was implied in their tone.

"It's better that we act upfront about our intentions as adults. Being frank is best, yes? I have goals that I'd like accomplished. Whether they impact others negatively is no concern of mine. Are you not the same? After all, you hardly solved Abydos' problem at the expense of getting the job done quickly."

Tsubakura just shrugged. "Sure."

The man leaned forwards. Despite sticking his head out a car window, he still looked dignified. "I've come to be known by a moniker that I quite like: Black Suit. I represent an organization known as Gematria and—"

"'Kay, so I never asked for your name. Don't really care about whatever half-rate organization you're a part of. I care more about sleeping, so see you. Hope we never see each other again."

Tsubakura flew up into the air, leaving Black Suit stuttering.

"Half-rate? Half-rate!?" He repeated it again, his white eyes slanting. He rolled the other window down and stuck half his body out of it. "Haven't you heard? Hoshino is no longer a student of Abydos. Did you not know? That means—"

"Nah."

Though he managed to get Tsubakura to languidly float so they were facing each other, the words had taken all the energy from his injunction.

"'Nah'?" Black Suit said, almost weakly.

"The rest of them weren't freaking out so I kinda doubt that. Even if there's paperwork that she probably misplaced somewhere, then it's nullified."

"Nullified?" Black Suit's fist slammed on the vehicle's roof. "Null!? You cannot nullify that! What right do you have!?"

"'Cause I said so. If you need proof, then I've got a smoking building. If the General Student Council's got a problem with it then they're going to get a few new problems. I'll check up tomorrow or sometime to see if she's missing or not. If she still is, then we'll have problems 'cause you're gonna be accused of kidnapping, which then also leads to problems—specifically for you." Tsubakura yawned, not bothering to cover their mouth. "So, yeah. You can do whatever else but Abydos is off limits. Don't think that I can't find your facilities 'cause we got methods. So, yeah, now I actually got nothin' else t'say. See ya."

Tsubakura flew off with the speed of a paper airplane, leaving behind an adult that had started shaking sometime during the speech. They initially thought about pushing the contract, but knew that all their current precautions were useless when the Sensei was more unconditionally powerful than any measly mystic; then there was the thought that they could push against Sensei's near-naive legal challenge, which was quickly discarded since the violence that Sensei promised would be much faster than any lawsuit could be (though he kept that in his back pocket for the long-term); and so many more plots that fell apart because they'd been built on a faulty premise. Schale's hires were aggressive and Sensei even more so. Everything hinged on them being compliant with the research offer. It was going to work! It was supposed to work! Sensei was supposed to be hungry for research! They weren't supposed to have the muscles of an ape and the mentality of a snake!

So Black Mask did the only thing he could at that moment. His voice barely reached the teacher's ears.

"You are not special! We are both adults! You will rue the day that you brushed me off like this! Come back here, you disgusting teacher!"

Tsubakura didn't, of course. They barely remembered there was an encounter the next morning, when they reluctantly provided a reward lunch for Ui and Kikyou. It didn't fully make up for wandering through the desert, but at least they didn't submit resignation forms. Everything was good—for two days before Yuuka started tugging their leash again.

Chapter Text

---

Origin Transversal "Dimensional Crossing"

---

Harsh clicks echoed down the hall as she made her way through Sanctum Tower's first floor. It was an entire makeover compared to the smoldering husk that it used to be. Once crowded hallways thinned once the many processes of moving were completed, now there being a professional silence. 'Professional silence' meant the many small adjustments that happened once you entered a clean, respectful, respected office. Papers flipping. Shoes tapping. Yuuka wasn't fond of any bodily noises being made and always instructed her subordinates to take them to the bathroom. This was an environment she moved around easily in. Brief smiles were afforded to students that she recognized and even striking a conversation with a friend from another school who was on their break. The place being rented out to reputable groups had given the place a conversely lively atmosphere, of the occasional water cooler conversation and harried clerk running with stacks of paper.

Even the now tiny office of Schale had been changed in quite a striking way. Getting more recruits had done what she would've never achieved: making the office feel more like an office. It was still never going to get to Yuuka's standards—as there wasn't a place evil enough in Kivotos to make their employees sleep next to their desks—but their newest hires had done a great deal in making it actually workable. Next to the bench Tsubakura spent hours pouring over were now two desks with filing cabinets sitting pretty in between them, actual paper dividers so that it didn't look like a surgeon's workplace. A new bookshelf that must've had a specific purpose was also added, bare except for two folders that were laying flat. Most else hadn't changed. Except for there being more booze on the kotatsu.

Two recruits were in when Yuuka entered. They were the first ones. She never got the full story on why they were willing to sign up underneath the layabouts, but was grateful since their professionalism was a good quarter of the reason Schale was being taken more seriously. Another quarter was just word getting around. Another quarter was their unofficial dealings spreading a good reputation about the new Schale that wouldn't even refuse walking an old lady across the street. The final one was the video that was circulating around.

To be honest, Yuuka never wanted to know if it was real. The report they'd entered into the General Student Council had passed her hands to make sure that it was up to the standards expected of them. It was a combination of overly clinical language obfuscating what exactly happened and primitively omitting details without trying to hide it. Going through that was an exercise in frustration. The only reason she didn't insist it to be fixed was the internet blowing up with speculation. Happening around the same time as the news covered an unprecedented terrorist attack, there was a video documenting some sort of beam that did it, without an explanation at the same time their strange Sensei was in the district.

Somebody familiar was chatting with the girls. Forms that looked eerily like the application were presented on the desk. Realizing what was happening, Yuuka didn't bother looking around the rest of the room so she could rush down.

"And what are you doing here exactly, Noa-chan?"

The student turned around mid-conversation at the familiar voice. What was once a genuinely pleasant smile turned into one that she typically only reserved for Yuuka. "Ah, Yuuka-chan! Interesting. I wasn't even trying to sync up our visits yet it just happened coincidentally. How often do you visit here?"

She primly looked at her friend. Even if both strived to be the best they could at any given moment, there was a certain difference that came with Noa that made it seem effortless. Some of that was due to her general demeanor being unflappable.

"What are you even trying to imply?" Yuuka asked, exasperated.

"You come here too much. Are you trying to use your status to force us under Millenium or are you trying to accrue favor? Either way, this is a rather crude method to do so," Kikyou bluntly said.

She was sitting at the right desk, finished with her day's duties. With how little official Schale activities were actually carried out, most of her scheduled visits with Schale were spent relaxing with her new friends—though she was loath to ever use any of those terms and, unsurprisingly, so was Tsubakura. So they were associates. Business partners. Mutually interested parties. And she wasn't relaxing but working to be more like Sensei, learning, appreciating the quiet, many other synonyms that went straight over most of Schale's heads.

"Very astute, Yuuka-chan, trying to acquire an ally to do our dirty work." Noa's eyes closed shut. "I like it! It's an effective strategy."

"Y'know that there's not anyone here to find your humor funny?" Ui asked. Getting her into the office was pretty easy. Most of her shift was spent doing library work except at a different setting. Some of Shion's bookshelf had started to host common materials that she'd use. The walk between both places was still horrible, but she was getting used to seeing the Schale room as another safe space. She also was almost used to the constant banter thrown over her head. Sometimes she even joined in!

Of course, her more sensitive materials were still kept back at her main workplace. Schale was only good for Sensei and, to her shock, Shion's knowledge on the dead languages she frequently encountered.

"It's more for my amusement than anyone else's," Noa said.

"Mm. Nevermind. Sounds like you'd get along here fine," Ui muttered.

The door opened once again and a familiar cadre had walked through. Shion and Yabusame walked down the stairs licking ice cream cones. Tsubakura locked eyes with Noa, frowned, and pretended to ignore the giant problems who were standing united. Unfortunately, trouble had a way of speaking up when it wanted to be known.

"Good morning, Tsubakura-sensei! I'm glad to see that you're taking to the day well, getting ice cream at 10 AM while your students are hard at work," Noa greeted.

Tsubakura glared at her, walking over to their research bench to make sure that nothing was nudged. Even a single material being out of place could either lead to catastrophic failure or the entirety of Sanctum being toppled. "I was taking the children to get ice cream. Don't think of it as leisure; I couldn't get my own because I had run out of ink."

"But Tsuba! I had ink in my dimensional pocket! You should've asked if you wanted some," Yabusame said. Their mouth opened wide and ate the last scoop in a single bite. Everybody watching felt some level of disgust.

"That dimensional pocket doesn't pass the basic sanitation standards. Last time there was a little uranium mixed with my sauce."

"Our conversations were a little too mundane. Thanks for seeing to that," Kikyou said.

The other two members sat down at the kotatsu. From an outsider perspective, it would seem like the most powerful people in Schale were ignoring all the actual work that was being done behind them; what actually was happening was Kikyou reading a novel that she'd been recommended after getting kicked off campus to "live a little," by Renge, and Ui reading something unrelated to her current projects for fun. Tapping on the shoulder interrupted Tsubakura's fumbling with all their tools.

"Whaat?"

"If I had to guess, I think that your doom has come with Hayase-san," Kikyou said with a small grin.

Yuuka huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you mean 'doom'? Doom would be coming if I didn't come to warn you! Did you know that the Student Council is willing to pull the plug on Schale without any warning in advance?"

"My. Even I didn't know that. Looks like Yuuka-chan is really looking out for you three. It's as if she's nestled you close like a mother hen," Noa said.

"If I didn't, who would?" Yuuka pointed to the two secretaries. "One of these girls only uses this to do her homework while the other seems happy that you're being put in an uncomfortable situation—one that you've put Schale into. Now let me repeat what shouldn't have to be repeated: do your job! Go out and do requests. You're supposed to be the smart, hard working sensei of Schale, not a layabout!"

"Never described myself as either 'hard working' or 'smart'," Tsubakura grumbled.

"But you are! Look! You made your own halos!"

"So I'm smart~? Thank you for the compliment."

She smacked her face in frustration. Looking over to the other two already showed a lost cause, but she tried guilt tripping them. "Come on! Don't you two want to have a good day's work?"

"Not really?" Yabusame said happily.

"I've got better stuff to do," Shion mumbled. They looked proudly up at their creation, a giant spaceship made brick by brick. The next project was a normal ship that was getting bashed by waves, though so far she'd only started on making the water. It was hard getting the exact curvature of the ocean right.

With a final huff, she started walking up the stairs. She remembered that leaving with the last word felt really good last time.

"You have the capability to do a lot of good in Kivotos. It would be a shame to see your potential squandered while doing," she looked around. Three halos were laid out in an array on Tsubakura's desk, though they were obviously discarded as another project had taken the center stage. Boots with wires and spools being drilled into them had all the tools surrounding it nearest to them. Yabusame had already gone back to watching their television show that had some drama set in an office. Shion briefly watched it before collapsing against the floor and rubbing their belly. "...this."

The door shut behind her. This time it wasn't a metaphorical slam.

Noa looked positively shining. "If this isn't a shining endorsement for Schale, then I'm not sure what is. I love surmounting challenges."

"Some hills aren't meant to be climbed," Ui said.

"Yet you're not sure what mountains are unclimbable until you've tried. Please look over my application, Tsubakura-sensei. I eagerly await your response." With one last bow, she hurriedly left the room, still grinning.

A laugh track played through the television's tiny speaker. Speakers were top priority when they were paid next, along with ink, along with a specialized screwdriver that they didn't even know existed before, and some sort of glue that Ui insisted was required for repairing some manga that Shion wanted to read, and sweets to give the only people that were working the energy to continue.

"Are we moving out again, Tsubakura-sensei? If we're moving out again, then it'd be most productive for us to do a large project like the last time" Kikyou said.

Ui put down her book, rubbing her strained eyes. "I read through the requests that you've gotten. There's actually one that's coming in from Millennium. Bet that Hayase would be happy with that."

"Ah, you've learned quickly. Or would the term be corrupted~?" Kikyou asked with a chuckle.

"I'd consider it learned and adapted. There's some things I disagree with, though other tidbits can easily be used. For example, I still haven't taken your bribe," Ui said, smiling slightly. It was wiped off when her business face came up again. "Uh, sorry for getting off track, Sensei. This Millennium request sounds more like a diplomatic mission. We can expect combat if you're willing. I'm fully stocked up."

"As am I," Kikyou said, tails sliding down the length of her gun.

"Remember what I continue teaching about dividing the work: there's always somebody else that can do it."

Yabusame was too focused to realize that somebody had grabbed their collar. Dragged out by the butt, their feet started trying to dig into the flat, tiled ground that had such an even caulk that their heels wouldn't catch anywhere. Each step banged against their lower back, which Tsubakura made sure properly hurt. Little 'ows' and 'eeps' and 'oofs' slipped out with each and every hit until they reached the top. Once the door opened, they reached out to anything that could save them. The railing—too far away—or the girls—focused back on their respective work—or Shion—who had fallen asleep—would do. Anything would do.

"Tsuba! We didn't even vote!" A fist and palm stretched out. "Roshambo! Roshambo!"

"Can Yabusame-sensei even invoke the same powers as Tsubakura-sensei?" Ui asked. She was ignoring the desperate reaching towards her.

Kikyou didn't bother looking up from her book. "I'm sure anyone who asks would get the same non-answer we could expect."

Tsubakura had to throw their entire weight into moving Yabusame, leaning back and forth until their hostage was able to be tossed bodily through the door. They landed face down. A tablet was thrown onto the small of their back while the door closed, leaving them out in the wilderness of Kivotos.

---

Secret Teleport "Mushroom Kingdom"

---

"Sensei! Sensei! You've come for the Gardening Club?"

"Nope!"

"Sensei! It's good to see you. I don't mean to be a bother if you aren't here either way but I'd be ecstatic to know if you were here answering the request of the Archeology and Discovery Club. It's no bother either way! I know that you're a busy person. Even if you're splitting the work between yourself and the other sensei of Schale, it must be overwhelming to maintain the entirety of Kivotos with your how little helping hands that are on board. Oh, but listen to me ramble. I don't mean to keep you from your work. Would that happen to include our club however? The Archeology and Discovery Club?"

"Nope!"

Districts in Kivotos were hardly so different that the borders of jurisdiction would spell a sudden distinction. Those weren't the major districts, however. Entering Millennium truly was a different world. Technology wasn't often talked about in the other schools, leading students to believe that air conditioning grew off trees. Yet there was such an obvious disconnect from the gilded walls that separated the district (and the academy, and the neighborhoods, and the dorms, and pretty much anything that they could slap walls around) than from those outside.

Most noticeably, the air was cleaner. It was fresher than being on an untouched Earth. That was what made Yabusame breathe in like they were eating candy; deep, with a huge smile, and finishing it off with a satisfied, "ah!"

"You're having fun shooting these people down, aren't you? Haha."

It was a stroke of luck that she had enough room on her schedule that she could even begin to think about answering the call in the middle of the school day. One day at the very least? With the unsure tone and babbling of the Sensei had made her equally flustered and hard to extract all the details, she wasn't entirely sure of their assignment until she'd been handed a debrief paper. The basics were something needed to be done at another school—official Schale business she assumed—and she was needed for an indeterminate amount of time. So she cleared up the rest of the week from most of her obligations and ran over to their meeting place. It was a little annoying how short of notice the whole process was, but the entertainment from being around Sensei would more than make up for a second of annoyance. Her wings would occasionally flap to show off to the jealous wingless students. Purebred, Nakamasa Ichika, her darling EM-2 never leaving her side.

"A little," Yabusame said cheerily. They raised their hand to a random student. "Hey! Do you need help?"

The student looked around to make sure that nobody else was being referred to before nodding. "Yeah! I've got homework that I'm stuck on!"

"Make sure to send a request to Schale then! I'm sure that Tsuba would love to tutor you!"

A massive thumbs up was sent. "Hey, thanks a bundle! I'm gonna send a request to Schale right now!"

They walked away while the entire group couldn't stop smiling. No laughter was being shared; the prank really wasn't that funny. A person with taste may even call it mean spirited to waste that student's time like that.

"Hehe. I'm being a bad boy~."

"I feel as though I should be keeping you on track for the betterment of Kivotos." One of the rare times when Ichika's eyes were visible to the world was when she was doubtful. With both eyes cracked open for just a second, she let a silent debate rage into her before regaining the unflappable persona from before. "Nope! My job with the Justice Realization Committee would be to reign you in, not with Schale. I'm meant to be supporting you as I'm able."

"Nin nin! It sounds as if you're slacking off, Ichi-chan."

Being flustered was the other major trigger. Her eyelids fluttered before settling down again. Annoyance very briefly could be seen in her knitted eyebrows. "Wouldn't you be slacking off too?"

The very rare final trigger, the rarest of them all, was when she was dead serious. Either a point needed to be made or something went haywire for her lackadaisical personality to weaken. Only a single person could say that they'd seen Ichika's eye color willingly without shuddering afterwards.

"It's good to take a break every now and then! Your brain is a muscle and just like your muscles it needs an off day! Shinobi training makes sure to keep every need in mind! Like action, you need rest! That is the way of a true warrior!"

Strutting behind the two, then in front, then jumping up to the rooftops for a moment to herself before rejoining the others, then accusing random students that they were looking too fiercely at their liege was the butter to the cracker, the firecracker in a night sky. Ichika had to reorient herself for a moment. Yabusame's insanity was more of the slow burning, long-term schizophrenic kind. They'd be having a conversation about one thing before the wrong word would pivot its entire understanding upside down. A pun, sometimes a hidden meaning that they'd been hiding all along. It was a rather low-energy insanity that was easy to keep up with and allowed for many quiet moments after the stranger moments. Next to Yabusame was a girl whose loose robes were fluttering as she leapt around the walking pair, whose insanity contrasted with Yabusame's enough to always have Ichika thrown off kilter. Full-Hearted Ninja Without a Master, Kuda Izuna, carrying around a type 100 that was painted the same as her clothes to keep it as stealthy. Anyone who thought that the loud colors of her outfit clashed with a ninja's duty hadn't seen her in action—on good days, as bad days would convince you that ninjas never really existed.

"I guess that—"

They were interrupted by a block of plastic smashing against Yabusame's head. Despite how violent it was, and the noise their skull made rebounding the assault, they didn't react until the console smashed against the ground.

"Oh! Gifts?"

"Master!" Izuna rose her fist to the air and shouted, "I will avenge whatever dastardly fiends dared do this to my lord!"

Ignoring the butchered sentence, Ichika leaned down slightly to make sure there wasn't a bump growing out of their head. "Are you okay?"

Looking closer gave her a better look over the whole ensemble that would surely drive the world mad if they were to continue having power. There was a constant state of detachment in their wide, gray eyes that must've been correlated with their nonchalance with all things serious, whether it was debriefing them about why they were heading to Millenium or talking about their breakfast. A mangy bush of silver hair prevented any closer look at the scalp that could've been scraped open. It may have been easy imagining the paper-mache skin parting, but it was a body that had no flaw and had never really known imperfections. Yabusame would boldly proclaim that they'd never had a cold, then sneeze. A few titles have been burdened on their name over the years—the rudest and widest known being Flawless Thoughtlessness—and none have carried over to this new land. Most who knew that the actual authority of this person was a bit complicated rather than being Schale's eccentric janitor called them Empty Space-Time as some kind of multi-layered joke, saying their obsession with alternate dimensions must've cleared out their skull; these same people would most likely be horrified to know that their ability has to do with manipulating dimensions.

"Yep!"

Ichika leaned back to her full height with a smile.

"Well, that settles that. Guess there's a benefit to having an empty head, haha." Her smile receded once the joke was already said. "Was that too rude? It felt too rude."

"That sounded like something Tsuba would say!"

"So definitely too rude. Sorry."

"Heeeey! Is my console okaaaay?"

They looked up to an open window with a tiny face poking out of it. She meekly retreated back into the room. No particular reason. It could be related to the smattering of shuriken that were buried into the windowsill.

"A surprise attack! Surely it must be the work of the most dastardly of fiends to have gotten the drop on my shinobi senses and Ichi-chan's superb skill!"

Yabusame picked up the box that fell down. 'Flystation' was emblazoned on its side. Other than its fun logo that was made of a bunch of colors, there was nothing that implied what the box's purpose was. A slit was at the front, and grills that looked like a futuristic spaceship running along the side. It didn't look very fun. Knocking knuckles against it made a cheap plastic sound.

"Is this a treasure chest?" Yabusame asked.

Izuna bounced back. "Then where's the key!?"

"A quest!" Yabusame yelled.

"A proper trial for a shinobi!"

"We can deal with that sidequest later," Ichika interjected. "We were sent to this school for a reason. Let's trash this and move on."

Yabusame adjusted the treasure chest until it was hooked underneath their armpit. "Raisins are Tsuba's favorite~. What're your favorite foods, Izu-chan?"

"Proper shinobi foods! Sushi, ramen, and persimmons! They're what a shinobi needs to keep on their toes and ready to defend their master at any point!"

Sighs were wasted, Ichika thought to herself. Any sort of exasperation that came with the assignment would be wasted because she explicitly knew that wrangling the kids would be just that—wrangling, moving them towards an objective neither wanted to do. So getting annoyed wouldn't do anything. Instead she checked the overly verbose text that explained their duties, written by one Tsubakura Enraku when she asked for clarification. She thought it was cute how Sensei looked after their little one. From the little she'd interacted with them, saying that to their face would most likely get some snarky remarks. Hard to call them a tsundere when she was pretty sure that they meant every word they said.

Thankfully the two were quick to fall into line when she started walking. It felt like leading around two little ducklings.

She glanced back curiously.

"By the way Sensei, why are you carrying around a wrench?"

Yabusame brandished the thing around like it was a wand. "Because we're here to fix things!"

Coincidentally, the dorm where those girls tried braining their sensei was the one they had to enter. Coincidentally, it was the same hallway. Coincidentally, it was also the same room number. There must've been some kind of adjacent room or shared plan or some sort of arrangement that made their clients associate with those rude girls.

Crying was already audible through the door. Knocking made it stop, though many squeaks and the sound of papers flying could be heard through the thin wood. It swerved open. She looked down, down, until she was staring into pink eyes.

"...are you here for revenge?" she meekly asked.

Izuna pushed her way to the front, kunai poised in front of the girl's throat. "That's right! For assaulting Yabusame-dono, there can be no forgiveness! Prepare for a shinobi's—"

Ichika grabbed her colleague by the collar and threw her straight into the hallway's wall. Apparently that worked for fox girls just as well as cat girls.

For some reason the girl had both her hands up in surrender.

"Don't shoot! At least don't shoot in here! All these games are relics! If even a single one of them is damaged then you can throw me into the trash compactor with it!"

"Clank clank clank! Squish squish squish!" Yabusame pantomimed.

Ichika held up a peace sign. "We come in peace."

"Oh." The girl perked up when she realized that Yabusame had their console. "Oh! Why didn't you say so? Come on in!"

It was another moment when Ichika had to pray to some higher power for making Yabusame run into her rather than the other members of the Justice Realization Committee. Doing good work was all well and good, but tolerating Yabusame's strangeness was just one of the tasks when working under Schale. It also meant seeing every walk of life. Ichika considered herself a rather lowkey person who could tolerate the eccentrics just fine, even if she still had an urge to correct their deviant behavior from time to time; it was just a personality trait that one needed for them to consistently butt into trouble. Being in the room where there was hardly even any room to walk? Imagining the president walking into there or Mashiro watching Sensei get casually insulted made her grin just a bit wider.

There was an eldritch beast of wires laying in front of the television from all the consoles that were left laying around. Plugs laid unused behind their stand that had even more consoles, tangling into a second wall that was begging to be labeled a fire hazard. Besides that were paper plates—thought Ichika could concede that they were neatly stacked—and papers that littered the room. Reading through those nearest to her feet was headache-inducing, describing some sort of fantasy land with a king and a bishop who was secretly evil and the good guy was a half angel, half demon hybrid who fought for the resistance. The shelves that lined both sides of the room were chock full, full of forgotten homework assignments, full of forgotten ideas. On each corner were computers on desks that were kept relatively clean, both even having coasters! A dresser was right next to them that sneezed.

Ichika wasn't going to question that.

Immediately the girl took the box from Yabusame. She checked every angle, whining a bit at a scratch that was on the side. It was a slightly pale line that was barely bigger than a nail. "No! Our Flystation! It's damaged!"

"That's what happens when you throw it out the window, dummy!"

The two girls looked like mirror images of each other. Coordinated clothes with the only difference being the accent colors switching from pink to green were the only way that Ichika could tell. Giant eyes kept flickering around, and not a single time did they look at her. Either intimidated or not used to keeping eye contact, Ichika concluded.

"Are you two the treasure-holders?" Izuna asked.

The pink one dropped the Flystation, making her twin dive for it. Her fists rested on her hips. "Treasure? Hah! We've got better things than a single measly treasure!"

"The nine treasures!?" Yabusame exclaimed.

"Even better!" The pink one threw their hands towards the setup that was in desperate need for proper wire management. "We have this!"

Nobody seemed very surprised, or impressed, or that they were reacting to the same situation at all. Two members—the same culprits everytime—were merely staring out of the window as if hoping for the sky to come rushing inside. It was a gleeful emptiness where the body was given ultimate precedence in their reactions. Ichika, on the other hand, realized that her allies weren't going to be presenting a unified front and that she'd been brought along for diplomacy.

Really, wasn't this the right way of it? They were a fantastic team together. The leader was, practically speaking, herself. The muscle was purportedly Izuna, though the girl had a horrible track record of hitting her shuriken, which meant that it'd also most likely be herself. The diplomat for the team was also herself. Stealth-wise, it'd be nice for Izuna to pick up the slack yet she couldn't think of a situation that'd require stealth. The best types of teams were the ones where dictators could do what they needed to do. That's pretty much how the Committee worked anyways, sans her president having the charisma of a squawking crow.

"Very impressive!" Ichika said without putting much heart into it.

"You don't like it at all," the pink one said. Thoughtless Earnestness, Saiba Momoi. A Heckler & Koch was currently laying with the barrel pointed to the ground next to a pile of games they'd bought months ago yet still hadn't gotten around to touching. She was the one to push the purchase, using up valuable club funds graciously shaved off the central school's budget.

"You're not supposed to point it out," the green one said dumbly. Earnest Thoughtlessness, Saiba Midori. Another Heckler & Koch, a different model, was shoved beneath a bed of wires because her favorite controller had started to fray, and the rifle was the perfect height to keep it functioning so she wouldn't have to find another.

Their similar appearances, kept prim and proper through identical hairstyles, were coordinated to be different through following their eye colors: Momoi pink, Midori green. Their similarly oversized clothes seemed to have different effects; Momoi flowed through them, as if she were wearing a cape that heroically flowed with each of her movements, whereas Midori's seemed to emphasize how she stood behind her sister by making her silhouette stand out larger.

Yabusame came back to earth with a shout that made everyone around them jump.

"Oh! A video game!"

Ichika easily regained her smile. "You're a fan, huh? You seem the type."

"I haven't been able to play in a while because we were kidnapped by the dictator, had that incident with the sword and spirits, and then the war happened, and then we were kidnapped again by a different dictator. Pfft!." Yabusame shook their head, letting out a breath of disbelief. "I'm kind of getting annoyed by thinking back on it all."

There was a beat of silence that could be interpreted as 'was that serious?' which followed by another sympathetic silence of 'no, that couldn't be serious', especially when the two-time champion of getting kidnapped walked forwards and plopping themselves down on one of the flat pillows. Their hands explored the setup until they found a random console and pressed down on the power button. Flickering to life were gigantic words reading 'MISREMEMBERED MEMORIES'—all capitals, with a little bit of waviness whenever the cursor started wiggling around the title. Spinning around the control stick reawakened a childish glee that had been lost for a long time. Yabusame turned around and poked their finger towards the screen.

"Ichika! Come and join! Izuna! Come and watch!"

"Yes, Yabusame-dono!" Izuna leapt onto a drawer, balancing on a single leg while the other crossed over. "You've got to get the high score! Get those Pacmen!"

"Pacman is the good guy. It's the ghosts that are bad."

Izuna looked scandalized that she'd make that kind of mistake. "Ah! What kind of shinobi can't even tell the difference between friend and foe!? So much to learn that it feels endless!"

Ichika continued staring at the dresser that had just talked before deciding that was complicating this situation a little too much; the children had gotten excited, and it was the adult's duty to lead them towards the right path.

"Shouldn't we…?" Momoi was about to suggest, only for her sister to plant the both of them on the pillows next to Yabusame.

Midori leaned over to her sister, whispering so horribly that everyone could hear. "What is our club about?"

"...video games?"

"And what does that mean?"

"...playing video games?"

"Yes! Wait, no! Well, yes, but," Midori shook her head violently, "it's also about spreading the love of video games!"

A confused grunt slipped out from Momoi as a figure started materializing inside of a brick-laid path, cherry blossoms lining both sides as the main character started walking on an idyllic afternoon. "I thought that it was—"

"Yes! It's about that too!" Midori interrupted. "But it's also about spreading the love of video games! And if we can spread that love of video games with the people who are meant to be helping us…"

Technically everyone could hear; the difference between could and should is a valley, long and wide, made of stardust and invisible currents of radiation; in short, Yabusame and Izuna were too busy swaying with the character's movements fighting against henchmen dressed in long, flowing cloaks to pay attention to intrigue. One person still did—and if her eyes weren't closed, they would've been squinted at the scheming duo.

Really, why was she trying to be the responsible one?

"Ichiiiiika!" Yabusame squeed in joy.

"Aha! Finally I can see the skills of Trinity myself!" Izuna yelled.

A second controller that hung off the console like it was intending to be stolen was gingerly grabbed. From the controller port was a plastic tube that seemed to be built into the console itself, with a short, curled wire unfolding to barely a few inches away. She needed to sit much closer than Yabusame, practically shoving the whole screen as her vision port. Directly staring at the twins didn't get an answer for the strange controller. Instead they seemed just as excited. Both their shoulders were rubbing against the other as both fought for a better view of the television screen.

She just happened to glance at the wardrobe that was creaked open. The eyeball that poked out yelled, "eep!" before the door slammed shut again.

Still not going to question that. She turned around and pressed down on the rectangular 'Start' button. It felt horrible, like she was smashing down against a stubborn floppy drive in a sticky slot. Her character popped in with an explosion of clouds, allowing her to fly up to her sensei's side. The problems began shortly after when the strangely dressed people started rushing her. With the help of Izuna yelling out '5 o' clock', 'right flank', 'past the river', 'where I am', and various other directional commands which she varied for flavor, any enemies that had slipped by her attention would be quickly dealt with.

Yabusame would have their attention wander outside the window multiple times without ever losing a life.

"N-No way."

"On their first try?"

Yabusame was staring at the ceiling while Ichika still had her eyes closed. Izuna had caught her legs in a perfect split, feet on two shelves while she was ooing at all the pretty colors splashing from the boss. A laser sliced across the screen from the boss' sword that split Ichika's character in two. Quickly afterwards the boss themselves blew up in a fantastic explosion.

Izuna leapt down to pat her partner's back. "Ah, you'll get them next time!"

"I'm disappointed about that, if I'm being honest," she said with a chuckle. The score screen allowed them to input themselves as the top players with a 50,000 score lead. "That was fun though! Good job, sensei!"

"I love being praised~."

Izuna gleefully grabbed her partner's hands, yanking her up and cutely leaping in place. "You did great! I didn't think that you'd be so good at that! My shinobi training doesn't cover video gaming at all!"

Ichika laughed nervously, not able to look at the other girl. "To be honest, I'm not much of a gamer either. The only experience I have is with some people that I had to arrest? They had to stay the night even though they were innocent, so I spent time with them so they wouldn't be bored. They showed me how to operate their little thing and I played that one. Um, one of the other members also had me play something on the phone for a little while?"

The twins were on their hands and knees while the celebrations next to them ramped up.

"We got beaten by a casual," Midori moaned.

"Th-They can never hear about this!" Momoi shouted.

"We need to restore our honor!"

"Fight for our names!"

Two more controllers were plugged in. Midori had a pink one and Momoi had a green one.

"'They'?" Ichika asked in bemusement.

"Sit down and fight us! We won't let you take our high score in our own territory and get away with it unscathed!" Midori yelled.

Bemused, Ichika slowly sat herself back down without making a fuss, picking up the strange controller that had graced her with the win. It wasn't too surprising that another member crouched down nearly to the point where her butt was touching the ground, keeping balance despite only being on one leg.

"Oh, oh! Tag me in! Let me shred them in the name of Sensei-dono!"

There were eight ports on the console, but Momoi rapidly shook her head.

"Then our team will be disadvantaged! We'd need…"

Three different people's heads turned to the wardrobe that had cracked open again.

---

Recurring Reference "Hyrule Kingdom"

---

Yuuka was walking down the hallway with a sense of purpose. She'd never admit it to spite her detractors, but snubbing people down who needed to be snubbed down, those who made light of the laws that made Kivotos run, was one of her favorite activities. It wasn't a matter of maliciousness as much as a want to see the city running orderly and fairly, which could only reasonably be conducted in the tiny slice where her work mattered: first Millenium, then Schale, one more important while the other she could directly influence. It's not as if she liked making smiles turn into frowns as much as making sure that those who followed the laws would be rewarded for doing so.

It's how she lived her life, and she was proud of the daily work that she carried out. Knocking down the senseis who were abusing their position was basically what her life purpose was calling her to do. If someone were to ask her full opinion? It'd go so completely long and in-depth that any reasonable person would have changed the subject and take care to never bring it up again. Summarized, impossible, too many contradictions and vague assumptions for it to be valuable. All that needed to be known was that she vastly enjoyed knocking down the senseis rather than helping them, because she didn't want to enable their lazy lifestyles.

In the same vein, she was walking towards a drain on resources, danger to the public health, degenerate source of modern hobbying, crude outlier in an otherwise spotless reputation, criminal organization masquerading as a school club, parasite leeching off Millennium's otherwise generous policies towards evaluating what is a 'success' and not, group coming together for a shared love of laziness, uncomfortable parallel of the extrajudicial lords who ruled over Kivotos, messy trio who'd never learned how to clean, most unsociable part of their entire school, haters of success, pathological liars, recluses who'd never learn how to join polite society, lovers of anarchy, black hole of vices, repellant of talent, practically a curse put upon their school if she believed in curses, noise complaint from its inception, legion that would lower the property values of the surrounding neighborhood if they were hosted in a house instead, monsters taking the form of clueless girls, questionable quest of working on anything other than being a nuisance, and a club around an activity that she was rather neutral on in the first place but didn't let that color her opinion of the club at all.

She could tell which door in the hallway was the one she wanted because it was silent otherwise. Standing outside let her hear a cacophony.

"No…" she uttered, as if in pain.

There were more voices inside. Having recruited more members would lessen her justification to shut down the club.

Kicking down the door didn't make everyone turn around, which made her feel as if she'd done something embarrassing without the cool factor to compensate.

"Izuna, ninja on duty! Pass the shell to me, Ichika!"

"Roger, roger!" The girl yelled back, finally drunk on the atmosphere.

Her character tossed the shell over to another one, their rainbow wings letting the girl fly high and dunk it on the head of a shrine maiden. The poor victim flew downwards until she exploded off screen.

"Waah! They just did a cloud step without practicing!" Midori yelled in despair.

Momoi didn't respond, throwing her body fully with her character, a scantily clad girl with angel wings that shot out geometrical shapes at her opponents. Despite the way that they were talking, it was exactly even. The very second that the opposing team got the kill, a white-haired lady with a lily in her hair sped across the entire stage to deliver a killing blow in retaliation.

Yuuka turned towards the wire that mysteriously disappeared into the wardrobe. Soft clicks came from inside. If she were particularly observant, then she'd notice that specific character seemed to be doing a lot more than her teammates; and she was particularly observant, meaning that she noticed that tidbit.

The madness had to stop. But intervening now had an added dimension of redirecting the ire of Schale.

Yabusame turned around, reminding her of an owl. Their character was still coordinating with their allies on screen.

"Toucan!"

"Not my name," she said mildly. All things considered, this was more exasperating than genuinely annoying. "I can't believe that you've gotten Schale involved. And then of course Yabusame-sensei brings along more people. This is the greatest waste of time that I've seen in years."

"Hold on, Cold and Calculating Treasurer! We're about to win!" Momoi yelled, wincing when her final stock was taken.

"Win another award for being the worst? How is the gaming club even losing to…" she trailed off, openly staring at the two raven-haired girls (what was with that? Why were so many of Schale's operatives brunettes? Did one of the senseis have a thing for them? The thought made Yuuka shudder, perhaps in jealousy, perhaps in none-of-your-business.) who were playing with equal focus, a vast gap in intensity. "I'm sorry, but you two have me at a disadvantage. I'm Hayase Yuuka."

"Crow-chan and Ninja-chan~," Yabusame said.

"I would never dream of taking my president's place as the crow. Please, call me Ichika instead," she said.

"I'm okay with Ninja-chan!" Izuna said.

"And this is Izuna," Ichika continued.

Another stock was taken off. A sob nearly broke out from Midori.

"They're having a conversation while beating us."

Just as she said that, Yabusame's character was grabbed. Before they could mash their way out of the hold, a meteor streaked across the screen that took out the entire team with one final blow. Everyone was gobsmacked—those who understood how the shot was one in a million. Those who didn't were high-fiving their teammates just as enthusiastically as Momoi and Midori.

"Woo! That was pretty good for a first try! I'll have to throw in video games to my routine so that I never lose again!" Izuna yelled. She clasped down on Ichika's hand, did a complicated maneuver, and then leapt up so their chests slammed together. "That's a secret ninja greeting! I try doing it with Tsukuyo but her chest always hits back way harder! You're way more perfect for it!"

It's impossible not to self-consciously raise a hand, intending to rub yourself down or do something, anything. Ichika managed to keep it from doing anything embarrassing and simply lowered it back down.

Yuuka sighed, realizing that she'd walked in another situation as in the morning. There were currently six people who had equally quirky personalities all vying for attention. The twins were heckling as if they had room to stand on while Yabusame was speaking about the mechanics of flying whereas Izuna kept talking about her clubmates to a self-conscious Ichika, all the while the true president had shut the door again. There wasn't any hope staying her hand and waiting for things to work out. Jamming her fingers into her mouth, she gave a light whistle that overpowered the conversations.

That did it. Everyone was focused on her now.

"While I'm glad to have seen the gaming club nearly lose at their own," her eye twitched, looking for a synonym, "specialization, we still have the matter of the Game Development Department shutting down."

"Ah! That's why we've been called in. Sensei-dono, do we start shooting!?" Izuna yelled.

It was only rumors. Because of how reclusive Schale has been, unsavory rumors of all sorts had been spread around, surreptitious whispers about their unbecoming conduct and backroom deals. Ignoring the strange rumors was easy because she was, to her pleasure, one of the most connected students of the entirety of Kivotos, having the ear of the acting General Student Council President (through repeated, forceful interactions) and vaguely being the handlers of Schale itself; her exact powers as their handlers was still not really explained.

Nevertheless, she regularly interacted with the people in Schale. She knew them. She knew the loafing Tsubakura who would spend most of their day working on tech beyond what even Millennium was capable of while pretending to be a drunken idiot for the rest of it. She knew the surprisingly poignant Yabusame who acted the fool on most occasions, dropping it whenever it was convenient for them. She knew of the alert Shion, who seemed to have hidden depths behind the careless words and peppy attitude with little biting snippets. She knew of Kikyou, member of Hyakkiyakou, a proud school with a proud history that engendered a proud member who put her all in whatever work that she was assigned. She knew of Ui, who always looked like she'd rather be back in her library and Yuuka for the life of herself couldn't figure out why the librarian continued to be dragged out of there.

These were good-hearted people. They didn't deal in back alley drugs. They weren't behind all the gang violence happening in Kivotos. And surely they didn't solve all the problems they were assigned with violence. Because deep down, Schale was full of good people who understood the gravity of their responsibilities. These two new hires would be just the same. It's why she didn't freak out when Yabusame's grin turned devilish.

"Izu-chan. Pull out the paper."

From the girl's secret ninja pockets came a piece of paper. Izuna cleared her throat.

"'We'd appreciate your cooperation with resolving the incident. What's your name and occupation?'" she read out.

Deciding that this was more productive than watching them play video games, she decided to play ball. "Um, Hayase Yuuka. I'm the treasurer for Seminar."

"Mmkay. Writing that down. 'Did you cause this incident?'"

"She did!" Momoi yelled.

"If the 'incident' that you're talking about is kicking out these girls who are wasting our resources by not even having the minimum amount of members for a club and breaking countless other rules, then I'd suppose that calling this an 'incident' would be apt," Yuuka said, trying to restrain herself from spitting out the words.

Izuna's pencil paused above the line. She looked over to Ichika. "Can I include that with, 'why did you cause this incident?' or do I have to ask that also?"

Ichika leaned over so she could get a better look. The height difference allowed her chin to nuzzle next to her co-worker's fox ears, getting a giggle. "Since there's no formal procedure for this, it'd be better to expedite the process to save time and make the referee less mad."

"'Kay. So here and here." Izuna cleared her throat before continuing. "Um, okay, next, what's this section?"

"That's the one where you can skip if you believe that it's not relevant to this situation. Perhaps you can ask for their number later, and we definitely don't need her address," Ichika said.

Izuna started rapidly nodding, eyes turning nuclear. "Okay! Now, 'will you cooperate with resolving the incident?'"

Yuuka had crossed her arms, feeling completely comfortable.

"Unless 'resolving the incident' means kicking these layabouts out, then no!"

"Okay!" Izuna threw the paper over in Yabusame's general direction, drawing her gun. "Incident resolving time!"

"Wait! Don't shoot in our room! You'll damage our treasures!" Midori pleaded.

"Squish squish squish!"

There was really only one solution. Yuuka saw it coming from a mile away. Absolutely no time was given for her to draw her guns in self-defense, so her arms came up to half-heartedly cover her face.

"This doesn't endear your cause, you know! In fact I'm now more convinced that—"

Smash! Ichika's takedown was completely by the books, sending the both of them outside the door. Knives found themselves between Izuna's fingers as she ran outside to join the others.

Yabusame was rereading over the form, not bothering to look. Even the wardrobe had opened to watch in morbid curiosity once the bullets started flying.

"Don't play too hard, you two! You still have more work to do!" Yabusame yelled.

Whatever response that was said got lost underneath the roar of twin SMGs raining hell.

Chapter Text

Everyone was sitting like it was meant to be a support group when there were multiple scuffles scratching up those present. None had the extent of scars as did Yuuka, sitting with her arms crossed and nasty glare on her face directed at Yabusame who was still proofreading over the paperwork they'd done. There was some kind of apology written on the gaming club's faces which was not mirrored from the self-satisfaction of those across from them.

It was reflected with the near purr of Izuna's voice. "We work together well, Ichika! We're like shinobi destined to have met each other!"

"Dry brush and the summer more like. What did you think that shooting at me would accomplish!?" Yuuka yelled.

Ichika and Izuna were completely lost. Only the former had the sense to work her hand, pointing over to their leader. Said leader still wasn't paying attention.

"Izuuuna. Your handwriting needs work. I can't read this," Yabusame groused.

"Ah! Apologies, Yabusame-dono. I've never been great at calligraphy." Her eyes fell, tears obscuring her pupils. "Being a proper lady has never appealed to me. For that reason my skills at such essential tasks of ladying have always fell to the wayside: calligraphy, cooking, cleaning, tea ceremonies, playing the piano. Oh! My heart! Ninja movies are all that I'll ever need! I don't need to think about my marriagability! I would never need my heart stolen by another anyways! A ninja is their duty, and mine is at your service, Yabusame-dono!"

"You think those are the reasons you'll never get married?" Momoi asked dumbly. Her sister sharply thwacked her side, not wanting to be drawn into the argument.

The speech didn't steal any of their hearts. Yuuka had merely started to rub down her forehead, trying to belay the headache that was coming on from the body-wide pain. "I have to ask, though I'm not expecting a real answer: did you intentionally choose an eccentric person and a doormat as your partners so that you could order them to do such unreasonable things? I'm imagining that someone such as Kikyou wouldn't merely accept these sorts of orders, or Noa-chan now that she's a member of Schale, or any other member with a tighter moral compass."

"Doormat?" Ichika quietly repeated. There was a grave tone in her voice that glided underneath everyone's attention, a slight tensing of her forehead that made her otherwise normal resting expression turn nearly sinister. It was because she'd said it so quietly and made no great movement that nobody noticed the slight chink in her armor.

"You'd be surprised~," Yabusame merely implied, putting away the paper somewhere. "Is the incident resolved?"

Momoi pushed over her sister so she wouldn't get interrupted. "No, no! The incident is that she's trying to get our club taken down!"

Trying to frame her as the bad guy sent an already annoyed Yuuka into a logic-breaking rage. The furious glare that was directed over to her caused Momoi to shield herself with the body of her sister, who in turn could only lean back as if she were standing next to a sudden bonfire.

"This is not a personal quest of mine to have this club shut down! It's an order from Seminar itself for the many transgressions that this particular club has had with the rules, and general ethics, of Millennium as a whole! You have brought no worth since the day this has been founded and have continued to drag down the atmosphere of this otherwise accommodating school with your consistent antics and drain on our reputation! Your game getting the worst of the year was the first time that a single product that has come out of our school has gotten an award for it. Therefore, in the vested interests of the school body, I have come to terminate this club unless you're able to produce something of worth! If you recruit another student then I can at least extend this grace period, but otherwise I'll happily send all of you packing and throw out your junk myself!"

"Squish squish squish!"

Midori was too stunned to speak. Momoi poked out from behind her sister with fresh tears running down her face. "Wah! That's exactly why we asked for help from Schale!"

Yuuka's head turned so fast that it was like releasing a rubber band. "No helping! I don't want to see a whiff of your programming, art, writing, ideas, even a thank you in the credits! This has to be done by the club itself. If they can't shape up during an existential crisis, then they do not deserve to exist!"

Ichika hadn't fully recovered, and with how fast everything was moving, could hardly keep track of the conversation. Izuna wasn't even trying and had stopped paying attention when the screaming started, wondering when she'd be useful again. Negotiations? Nah. Politicking? Definitely not a ninja's duty. In fact, there were so few things that a ninja could do that it was easier to list them off: reconnaissance and violence. 'Protection' was technically in their repertoire but too many movies had started with the ninja's ward getting killed that she didn't want to explicitly say it was in her capability; a gigantic revenge quest across Kivotos sounded fun until she thought about how her grades would tank.

Another jerk brought Yuuka back to her initial targets that she could freely take her anger out on. "Let me summarize: your club's ending, you shall be allowed a grace period if you can recruit a single member, and it must be some sort of accolade that'll prove this club is meeting its stated goals rather than wasting resources. Understood?"

When Momoi realized that she was being addressed, a choking sound was her quick response.

"Understood?" Yuuka repeated.

"Understood," she squeaked out, quiet as a mouse, fire completely smothered.

Yuuka's eyes swung towards Midori. "Understood?"

"Understood," Midori said, another shouted syllable from bursting into tears.

Blue eyes deep as a gas giant slowly found their way to the coughing wardrobe in the corner.

"...understood?"

A meek, "yes," slid out from the crack in the doors.

After trying one last time to regain her dignity by pinning down every member in the room (Schale was so far beyond her capability to cow that none of them even recognized what she was trying to do), she primly fixed her outfit and left out the front door, though not before scoffing at the bullet hole that had lodged itself into the wall—one last hurrah for the club that had wasted thousands out of the budget. The door clicking shut gave the club its mandate to be as loud as possible, or that's how the twins had always interpreted it.

"We're gonna get shut down!" Midori yelled, thick tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No you aren't!" Yabusame said.

"You already have a plan!?" Ichika asked.

It was meant to be rhetorical. She had absolutely no hope for the club and somewhat agreed that they were a drain on resources besides. For Millennium had gotten the reputation of being an amoral school that would complete any task as long as the price was right, which violently clashed with Trinity's general belief that clubs had to serve both a practical or (for the best, and) moral purpose. The only sticking point she had with their approach was that Yuuka implied the Student Council were revoking the club's right to band together because of their lacklustre results instead of for the brigandery in general. The twins crying about their club were exactly the type of people that Ichika would've relished being called in to subdue.

Of course, this was talking about the Justice Task Force Ichika, who was required to know the laws of Trinity by retaking the entrance test every so often, pop quizzes to make sure that they wouldn't arrest a person under the wrong clause, and who liked to sometimes reread the laws since she enjoyed being good at her job. This was not Schale Ichika, who had joined for entirely unrelated reasons, who was following behind the second Sensei who was not a Sensei when she'd been intending to serve underneath the Sensei who is the Sensei on paper. This Ichika was intending that their job at Millennium had been made superfluous and would never speak up to contradict her superior.

"We're going to go get some members for the Gaming Club!" Yabusame said, brandishing their wrench out.

"Excellent idea! That way they could get the grace period along with more talent to work on their game!" Izuna yelled, brandishing her kunai. She whipped around towards the twins. "Is your game almost done?"

The twins simultaneously took a step back. Ichika noted that it was the exact same distance and with the same feet, not helping the already mirror image look that they had.

"Almost…"

"Done?" Momoi squeaked. Her head nodded with the strength of a whale's tail fin. "Oh, sure! Yeah! That's why if Schale is helping, then we're moving! You guys get us members and we'll finish our game!"

"Our game?" Midori repeated.

"O-Our game!" Momoi repeated before anyone could ask. "All that we need to finalize it is the G.BIBLE!"

She let it hang there, sink into the long term memories of Schale.

Yabusame's smile grew to where it look as if their lips hurt from stretching. "'Kaaaay! We've got a plan! Ichika, Izuna, we're heading out to beat some members!"

"Don't you mean recruit?" Ichika interjected.

"Huh? They mean the same thing? Anyways, we'll beat some new members from the clubs around Millennium for them to play video games."

"I think they need to make a video game, Sensei," Ichika said evenly.

"Mada vida?" Yabusame asked.

"Hai! Our mission has started!"

"Mission? I don't think that's true. I think that it'll be more like a fun walk!" Yabusame said.

"Nin nin! The path of the ninja is treacherous!"

"It'd rather be a cake walk with our skills," Ichika said. She was somewhat reluctant condoning the behavior, but thought it didn't matter in the end. The clubmates who didn't want to stay would slip out when Schale left, the gamers would be brought to heel, and everything would go back to order.

"Coconut cream?" Yabusame asked.

"One made with goguma," Ichika teased.

Yabusame stuck their tongue out. "That's more of Tsuba's taste."

The gaming members were struck dumb as the trio walked out of the room.

The door to the wardrobe fully opened. Red spilled out from the cracks, draping across the knobs and lying flat against the grainy wood despite never having been washed in the past week. Swimming in the jacket that she always wore (underneath was a different outfit everyday) was a petite girl who reached a greater height and greater age than her two underlings—though the massive presence of her aura and slight slouch shrank her to puny sizes that made people always misjudge her age around 4 years at the worst. Short breaths made those unfamiliar to think she was panicking instead of having the heartbeat of a mouse. A very weak, lengthy flick of her head freed the bangs that were sticking to her face, letting a pale blue eye stare from the little sunlight that leaked inside. President in a Cocoon, Yuzu Hanaoka, a M320 that snuggled into her coat just as easily as the ammunition.

"President! Was the wardrobe comfortable for you? Did you like it?" Midori fretted.

"Oh, u-um, it was f-fine, but I would've preferred my locker."

Momoi grimaced, looking over their previously expansive club room. She still thought that it perfectly communicated their hobby, but it was a shell of its former self. The shelves that previously were overflowing with games had been reduced down to the essentials. Desks which had previously been personalized to the point where mistaking one for the other would've been criminally blind had been cut down to the essentials. Entire pieces of furniture had been traded out as they'd been resigned to the inevitability of the transfer through the week. Her being in charge of the move and badly describing their room might have been the reason that Yuzu's beloved locker had been transferred to a storage unit and that was also a revelation that sounded worse than the movers being stupid deaf idiots.

The wardrobe used to be full of Midori's clothes. Now they were splayed out on her bed so it felt like she was sharing a bed. Feeling bad about that reigned in whatever complaints that Midori would generally have, letting her sister sulk about their club being dissolved without the extra annoyances.

"Can we do it?" Yuzu whispered.

If it weren't for Schale, Momoi was certain that the Cold and Calculating Treasurer would've kicked them out with no hesitation. Their request had been hanging for multiple days. Still, she felt grateful. Even a glimmer of a chance for their club to prove its existence was enough for her.

She really, really wished that one of the Schale members had stayed behind though, considering she was planning on doing something really dangerous. No doubts needed to be known by the other two. She was the excitable one, the shining beacon of the Game Development Department, between her sister's more low-key personality and Yuzu's completely allergic reaction to socializing, sunlight, and what seemed to be anything that represented the outside like a part-time job form.

"We can! I didn't want to do it, but it looks like we have no choice! With Schale backing us, it'd be really bad to just give up here!"

"Momoi…" Midori trailed off, admiring her sister's positive traits and ignoring her negative traits (bulldozing ahead without asking for another opinion) better than most people. "You're right. We've given up without making an effort. There's no reason we can't at least try."

"And we'll do better than try: we'll save the club!" Momoi insisted.

"I-I-I'm with you two! Whatever I c-can do, I'll help with all I can!" Yuzu quietly affirmed, barely enough to be heard over the breeze outside.

"Alright! So here's the plan…"

"It feels like I've been thrown into a blender," one of the girls moaned.

"Cheer up. At least it doesn't feel like you've been dropped from a skyscraper," another one moaned.

Ichika's rifle rested against her shoulder as she looked over her handiwork in satisfaction. Fighting through multiple clubs felt like a workout instead of a mass terror campaign if she thought about it from a certain angle. Izuna certainly was treating it that way, continuing to jog in place and throw out kicks to keep herself warm for their next opponents, and it was best to go with the flow sometimes. Her legs couldn't reach up for kicks without flashing people, yet she also found it tasteless to do jumping jacks next to her downed opponents.

The girl who'd managed to last past the rest of her teammates getting mowed down dragged herself out of the fountain she'd been using as cover, clawing past the bullet-strewn courtyard with a ferocity that Ichika personally respected. Purple hair dragged on the steaming craters that had been left behind from the heavy-duty ordinance as her feet would drag against the black traitorous skidmarks from combat boots heavily skidding on the ground. Her previously disheveled appearance had turned completely ratty from the bullets that had thrashed her around once the initial defense of robots were trashed—remains scattered as they'd generally blow up once an important servo was shot. All that she wanted to do was fix a student's motorcycle when the maniacs had come firing. Laser-Focused Industrialist, Shiaishai Utaha, a highly customized Ship of Theseus-esque Mac-11 left behind when she started needing both hands to repair the bots. She'd later find it stomped deep into the ground by one of their own robots.

"What," she breathed out, needing to lower her head, "is this? Why is Trinity…"

She lost the energy to continue. Ichika meanwhile, hurriedly ripped off her armband so no more silly theories could crop up. She was practically the face of the group. Yabusame was sniffing the air while Ichika had transitioned to push ups. Putting on her best business face required the fatigue to be sucked in and little marks of annoyance to be masked.

"Well, you see, we're here to," a gulp gave her one last second to gather her thoughts, "represent Schale! We're here on behalf of another club on campus and were carrying out a combat operation for reasons that need to remain disclosed for now. When you started firing back, we needed to fight because we have a policy of not negotiating while fighting. Sorry that you had to get caught up in that."

"Schale? It's, that's, that's right. Okay. Thanks for the," Utaha finally gave up, letting her head smack on the ground, "apology. It's not really accepted."

Ichika winced, realizing that these were lost causes. Advertising after destroying your hard work and sending you a thousand dollars debt in hospital bills was like picking up a fish from the ocean to sell it candy. Already she'd struck them out as being lost causes for their purposes in the same way that every single person they'd 'disciplined' on the way to there being lost causes. It generally took a very extenuating circumstance or a very odd person to be convinced after the stuffing had been beaten out of them—at least in a way that made it convincing they weren't coerced (and Ichika wasn't sure that was the term since coerced implied there was some method of convincing rather than outright beating the resistance of out them). She was already preparing to leave.

A hand landed on her shoulder and, when she was too slow lowering herself down, picked up the whole body. Izuna was using her like a jungle gym to raise up and whisper, "hey, they're the tech club or something, right? Video games are tech. I think that we've found our members!"

"Wait, this is—"

Too late. Izuna had dropped down and hopped forwards. "Hey! You should join the Game Development Department."

To Ichika's not-at-all surprise, they all groaned in exasperation. It was the one in the front who had the most experience with the shenanigans of that particular club. Everything was starting to make sense. Of the members in a generally reclusive club—not for Millennium's standards, to be fair, as most of the different clubwork required shutting yourself in a room for focus—she was by far the most outgoing and consistently made to be the face of their public relations. Doing so nearly made her the face of the club if it weren't for one of her friend's more explosive tendencies. Anyways, she was much more keyed into the general gossip than her other friends, and could rattle off the most troublesome members of their student body without being prompted. Explaining things to people who didn't know they needed something explained yet was pretty much her wheelhouse. Built Without an Off Switch, Toyomi Kotori, a heavily modified M134D that could be used by an infantry as her best friend, known as Ex-Plain because she understood her character flaws and was proud of them.

"Of course it's them. What exactly did they do now?"

Ichika nearly wrapped her hand around her teammate's mouth. "Izuna, I think that—"

Right when it clasped down, her teammate hopped forwards again.

"Oh! Um, it's not like we're here totally for them. We're also," recognizing that it would be bad admitting they were interfering inside a school's politics for an extremely petty reason, she reached down her panoply of excuses that a ninja would have for violently subduing people and picked, "tracking a mysterious individual who's pulling the strings around the school, who's cloaked themselves in a shadowy veil and has a master bodyguard!"

Rio nearly had a heart attack.

Another girl, listening in as she did work, suddenly had her focus consumed by the screen.

Yuuka smashed her fist on her desk.

"I am not a—where the hell did they hear that!? Those twins are nuisances! If they put half the work into their boss' banter as they did with coming up with stupid names, maybe they would've yanked themselves out of the depths of mediocrity!"

Noa tittered. "Oh my, and what is the shadowy individual going to do about these tactless remarks?"

"Going to—I've got better things to—I'm—shush, Noa! I'm trying to listen!"

"In any case," Ichika said, forcefully butting back Izuna with her hip as she quickly took the reins, "Izuna really had no tact asking you that sort of question. We'd just finished, um, getting a handle on the situation, and I'd imagine that hearing the people who'd shot at you advertise would be tactless."

"It is," Utaha said bluntly.

"Actually, we got pretty good combat data from that. It'd be equally tactless of us to pretend that this was wasted effort," said another girl, who had dragged her body so that it was sitting upwards. Tapping away on her tablet went through graphs that she'd collaborated with Veritas to program. Already there was a wealth of data that couldn't be retrieved in any other situation. That was the problem, being one of the most promising technicians on the entire campus; work made amazing things, yet those amazing things required hours of her time, leaving her without the field study to learn about them. Her floppy ears, twintails, and lazy eyes gave the impression that she was without passion to those unfamiliar with the explosive personality that lay underneath. Everyday, every second was dedicated towards bettering humanity's engineering capabilities through novel solutions. That only 9% of people used her Bluetooth extensions when she installed them only meant she hadn't optimized the experience enough. New Creative Multi Tool, Otose Kotone, a LRM vz. 99 ANTOS modified to her design to be used for whatever was stuffed down the barrel. Such ingenious engineering didn't stop Schale from ripping through her team.

"Any other upsides?" Kotori asked curiously.

"We learned that these drones don't have much firepower against competent opponents." Utaha said morosely. "It's actually a good thing that it was a relatively low-stakes situation where they were destroyed. Could you imagine sending these out and the customer got them shot down? That would've been embarrassing."

"We're much stronger than the average grunt! Nin nin! I hone my skills everyday! Ichika is a born genius! Together we're the greatest duo that Kivotos has ever produced!" Izuna yelled.

"While I'm not sure about 'greatest', we are definitely much stronger than the average grunt that you'd find." Ichika felt that she needed a chart to show her point, especially with her audience being mathematically inclined. "Let's see, if I had to start, let's say that someone like Tsurugi from my club and Hina from Gehenna are the absolute strongest. I think that it there's still a large gap between their fighting abilities, but it's enough that if we had a betting match between them, there'd still be those baited into betting on Tsurugi."

Kotori's eyes lazily pulled away from the pad. "Um, who's Tsurugi?"

"The one with the," Izuna's hands flapped down, "skinny wings that lay on the ground. She's, um, a little bit intimidating? To criminals, I'm saying, yes."

"Ah, that one. Okay. Carry on."

Ichika was grateful for the moment to pull more examples up. "Okay. So now that we have our strongest, let's create more until we have five blocks of people. At the bottommost block would be somebody like the many unexceptional—and I don't say this to be rude, rather than acknowledging that most students don't have the capability to fight—students which make up the bulk of clubs. Normally this would be the chance where I would refer to mutual friends as a standing ground to fill up the other blocks, which would give you an idea of the general competence that they refer to. Since we're in different schools, let's try finding a common ground: we can assume that the underlings of Gehenna's Prefect Team are strong, but not nearly at the absurd level that carries the academy where Hina stands; therefore let us place them a block below. Then a block below that, let's say that's where you three are, and the one below that is full of students who can certainly shoot straight yet aren't the ones to be trusted with an operation of high importance. Do you understand the ordering that I've established? Let's then say that Izuna and I separate are most likely at the top of the third block undisputed, and easily become somewhere in the fourth block when we're together."

A beat of silence.

"Was this overly complicated way of describing people's differences in combat capability a means to explain our drones are capable except in the most dangerous situations?" Utaha asked.

"Or was it a really clumsy way to make us feel better?" Kotone asked.

"Could be both," Kotori said.

Despite herself, the truth slipped out. "I was t-trying to make you feel better."

"Ah…."

"Oh…"

"Mm…"

Even Izuna was giving her a look of pity. Some sort of retort died in her mouth. Everything social in her clammed up as she felt a wave of indignation fight against her good senses. It gave plenty of breeding ground for another less responsible member to take over the conversation.

"So anyways, aren't any of you interested? You're all engineers! You like building!" Izuna asked.

They looked between themselves, trying to find the person who'd break the news. It was Kotori, as it always was, who decided to take the PR position.

"Besides that we're still laid out from you shooting at us, why would any of us be interested in joining the Game Development Department? They're focused on retro gaming with consoles, whereas we've long left behind that tech for more immersive experiences," Kotori said.

"Transmitting yourself into a fully digital world where your every movement is transcribed onto a character is all the rage nowadays. We've dabbled in the tech that allows for it, though more for the same technology to be used for our mechanized armors." Utaha closed her eyes. "Really, none of us have an interest in archaic hardware. There's other clubs that document the past of technology; we're interested in the future."

"But what about making the past into the future?" Izuna asked. To demonstrate, she kicked the air next to her, holding her leg up into a perfect vertical split. It transitioned into a series of punches and kicks that provided a visual demonstration as she spoke. "A master once said: I fear not the man who has practiced a thousand kicks, but the man who has practiced a kick a thousand times! Optimization! Specialization! These are the words that are used for things that they weren't made for! Just because we have laser technology doesn't mean that the kunai doesn't have a use, or that we've perfected the form! Just because there's advanced squadrons deployed over Kivotos doesn't mean the Path of the Ninja has been perfected! A true expert will see that there's an infinite amount of ways that anything can be improved, anything that is old can be optimized with a creative mind! Everything is infinite! That is what you must understand! Though there is one Path of the Ninja, the one way is infinite!"

Despite feeling as though her passion was being lit aflame by her own words, her crowd were barely hanging on.

"What does that have to do with this?" Utaha asked.

Izuna finished her routine squatting down, fist held where it would've been punched through the heart of a bad guy. She rose and bowed.

"It is simple!" She sprang up. "What is 'archaic' and not? If it's archaic, then it can be improved! If it can't be improved, then you haven't looked hard enough! If it's archaic and still usable, then it isn't archaic! You have a faulty mindset! Look beneath the surface and there'll be infinite methods of improvement!"

"That's, huh." Kotori looked down, gnawing on her lip. "That makes sense actually."

"You're buying this, Kotori?" Kotone asked.

Almost embarrassed, she turned her head around as best as she was able. "I like our advanced cutting-edge technology as much as you two do, but aren't we also about modernizing things? I bet that there's a bunch of problems that retro games have that can be tinkered with. Heck, I bet that those consoles could be optimized. What if there were better ways of playing older games?"

That got the other two girls thinking, which was more than Ichika was expecting. Eventually Kotori herself was the one to hesitantly nod.

"You know what? The whole bummer with our most recent project stalling has made me kind of want a change of pace." She started nodding, smiling as the idea took root. "You know what, I think that taking a small break would be good. Maybe I can get some more people to join the club so that they have an actual department when I come back. Those girls really don't have the personality to attract new members, and I've never even met the president."

"Huh." Utaha let out a small smile, closing her eyes to prevent the shimmering pools to be seen. "We'll miss you, Kotori."

"Hey, don't refer to me like I'm already gone! I've got to go through the process to change clubs anyways! And I'm coming back! You already know that retro gaming will be going through a revolution by the time that I'm done with it."

As if wanting to be as bombastic as possible in retribution for being forgotten (which wasn't their intention at all), Yabusame walked until they were in the very center of the entire group. Then, as if lost (they were), they looked around until finding the Schale students. Walking towards the two, both of their wrists were grabbed as they were dragged along.

"C'mon. It's fine to gloat after you've won, but I'm boooored. We need to go get rid of the shadowy leader."

The two students looked between themselves in alarm.

"The shadowy…"

"...leader?" Ichika finished.

"Mm hm! The one pulling the strings behind all this! Let's go get them!"

Unwilling to let the students listening in know they had lied, both were panicking as they were brought along for a completely different quest than intended.

Rio leaned back in her chair. A deep breath came in. Then out. A few flicks of her mouse banished that screen away as she was transported to the other end of the academy. There the girl who'd been allowed to penetrate on campus was having fun with her new 'friends', surely about to be acclimated to modern life. On one hand, she was currently unthreatening; on the other, from what she knew about the princess, it'd only be a matter of time before rapture was upon them. She desperately hoped that she was wrong, that a calculation was mishandled or a piece of literature that had been glanced over disarms the threat—but she wasn't about to gamble the lives of Millennium for a singular girl.

Preparations were made with quick flourishes. Messages were sent and precautions set up. Originally she was intending to move towards the academy, yet there was now a wrench that couldn't be planned around: the time was now and she had to move quickly. No matter if there was a chance of failure, she had to move fast. Immanent rapture made stalling because of her feelings downright reprehensible.

The question was if more precautions needed to be made: from what she'd seen, Schale's janitor was an idiot who had brought along one mildly competent student (a quick background check proved that competence, with a sparkling record besides an overly violent arrest when she started) and another idiot who aired out their plans to random students—which brought the whole thing into question. At first she assumed that it wasn't legitimate with the little tells that showed the ninja student was nervous, yet the janitor had freely gone ahead as if they were telling the truth. It was between one or the other. She legitimately couldn't decide.

At the end of the day though, they were still tearing a hole through Millennium. If they were genuinely trying to fight against a 'shadowy leader' then being careful would reward her; if they were not genuinely trying to fight against a shadowy leader and lied, then she had no idea what their intentions were but otherwise were still being a major disruption on campus.

A message was sent to another student as she started nudging the plan to include a rogue agent. It never hurts to be careful, after all.

She leaned back in her chair as the trio left the view of the camera. Initially she'd been curious about the capabilities of Schale rather than thinking in simple punitive measures; a delicate flower such as herself wasn't interested in discipline unless it was absolutely necessary, and thus was content with leaving the peace keeping in the hands of sticklers. It was a diversion where she was working on programming on her main screen while having entertainment to peek at when she was stuck in a rut, her underclassmen running around wildly as they were bombarded. It was also interesting to see Schale in action; from the research that she'd done, their internal organization was a mystery. Usually clubs had holes poked somewhere inside them. With the leaders being allergic to using digital methods of communication and the grunt work carried out by a relatively small, extremely loyal base who didn't fan rumors either way, it was an exceptionally opaque area. Interviews that had been carried out with known members—Kiryuu Kikyou and Kozeki Ui—had been generally clipped off with short, blunt negatives of differing varieties and rudeness, with the few quips that have gone past only revealing the equivalent of fun facts: Tsubakura didn't like the eye on their hat being touched, Yabusame mostly slept sitting down, and Shion had never been seen eating.

Therefore, anytime she got an opportunity to see their skill in action was a delight. The duo moved around as if they'd been trained together. Suppressive firing would hamper their opponents while the other would move up between cover. Quick shots would herd an unwary student into a worse position. It was near the point where she'd begun to assume that the whole of Cleaning and Clearing would need to engage to deal with the threat, which was exciting in the best way possible! At the end of the day, Schale was merely there to help one of their failing clubs in a time of need. That said failing club would most likely continue to be failures didn't register with her; far as she saw it, calling outside help was an ingenious method when nobody else would help.

At least, she was on board with the idea until that bombshell was dropped. 'Shadowy leaders' were a dime a dozen in Kivotos, yet she recognized that said leaders were of a different breed in most schools. Red Winter, Trinity, Shanhaijing, Gehenna, and many more were actually blatantly obvious in who was running the show, though many other qualities of these leaders and politics could effectively be described as 'shady'. Yet there was something specific in the way that their president operated that made the moniker feel a little more targeted than a thousand typewriter obsessed monkeys could come up with.

The biggest indication, and greatest question, was the ninja mentioning the bodyguard. What bodyguard? She didn't know Rio had a bodyguard. Their intel could be greater than hers (though there was no known data analyst in Schale's inner circle, she wouldn't be too surprised that the agency was much more well-connected than first assumed), it could be a bluff, they could be talking about another shadowy leader that she didn't know about, it could be a manufactured lie since they knew that eyes were on them, or it was a completely new reason that she couldn't even fathom! She loved it! Surprises were the best! Shoving that window to the side let her save it for when another new development came along.

Her main focus popped up with a few taps on her screen. Allowing Veritas past the protections that she'd personally embedded into the school allowed their newest addition to join the Game Development Department. A cute little thing, black silky hair that collapsed into waterfalls yet had enough wilderness in them to cloak her body in every direction. There was an innocence in her eyes that she couldn't get enough of. The way that she'd immediately latched on to the first experiences ticked all of her boxes. Yes, this person had already been adopted into another cute underclassman. She wanted clarification on the student's origins, which would require a bit more of a scheming hand than a delicate one.

Just when she hovered her finger over an old friend's number, there was a ping as said old friend sent a text. As much as they were different, they were also one. She knew that she had weaknesses, yet would never call them as such in situations like these. Her empathy, her love for her underclassmen, her need for the school of Millennium to have the freedom to do what it wants weren't deficiencies because she embraced the consequences that came with them. The methods that she used to attain her goals weren't deficiencies because she was fully willing to stain her hands for said goals. In many ways they were one; in many, very important ways they were two opposing sides that'd continue to scheme against each other. Unsullied Paper-White Lily, Akeboshi Himari, a model 340 PD hidden on her person at all times. It was a common joke amongst her allies that the gun was for mere intimidation factor since its chambers have been empty since she'd had it, a joke that'd come around because she's never been seen firing it. She'd respond that a delicate beauty such as herself wouldn't want her perfection to be sullied by such things as guilt for shooting another person.

Sending a text with her agreement didn't mean a full agreement per se. At some point Rio and her goals would diverge. How they prepared for the inevitability was half the fun in planning. Already countermeasures were being made, the idea borne from watching Schale start another firefight. Multiple clubs were holed up in an avant-garde statue that had a fully working staircase to go up to the tiny battlements that gave them a good shot, or the tiny windows that served as murder holes.

If their goal in Millennium was more impactful than she was expecting, then she'd know. It never hurts to be careful, after all.

"I knew we should've shut down the Game Development Department sooner! Within a single meeting they've managed to corrupt Schale!" Yuuka bellowed, hands reaching up to harangue the stand of her monitor, imagining that it was Midori's neck

"We didn't have the authority to do so until recently. There's nothing to blame yourself over, Yuuka-chan," Noa reminded. "In complete fairness, it's not as if their disruptive activities even if we are including 'corrupting' Schale, reach the same amount of disruption no matter our standards, whether we're doing so by number of incidents, amount of property damage in credits, nor moral reasoning behind their actions. Even if we are to compare them to similar clubs through incidences, per capita or scaled with whatever method, they are not nearly as destructive as most clubs on campus. Where does this personal conviction against them originate from?" Noa asked.

Yuuka gave her fellow member a side-eye, wondering if this was one of the rare situations where she'd get a straight conversation from the white-haired girl. It was certainly a choice for it to happen, as they had literally gone into one of the Student Council's situation rooms. Glowing monitors giving them extraneous information were ignored in favor for the central control panel that was giving them choice angles on the ongoing conflict: sector 9B at the Monument for Infinite Progress began at 11:24 AM when the Training Club, Kinesthetics Club, and Physiology Club (formerly all grouped under the same until the great incident caused the Charlie Horse Schism), Supernatural Phenomenon Task Force, and Veritas had been ambushed. Retreating to cover had already made them suffer a staggering 25% casualties when the survivors had firmly become entrenched. By 11:34 AM, the survivors had been thinned to 50% fighting force. By 11:40, an unknown amount had become demoralized and weren't fighting back. All this starting from an incident at 10:58 AM when the first shots were fired on campus.

Her fingers were typing phantom words. There was a situation and they needed a solution.

"Because I don't believe they're fit to be a club. If there were more interest then I'd be gracious; if they produced results I'd be gracious; but neither have happened and there's yet more besides. I'm not sure if there's other students who even know the name of the president besides the one who signed their club's approval papers! They're hardly willing to pretend to be a club, and the press from their horrid game was embarrassing to read," Yuuka said.

"And on that, we can agree, which is why you have me sitting beside you," Noa said with a smile. There was a hint of disquiet in her usual smile. "You can't just use your authority as Schale's watchdog to rein them in? I thought that you were happy when you'd been assigned to it for that exact reason."

Already she understood the confusion. Her finger jabbed towards the screen where there was a gray-haired person clearly sitting in the open field, unconcerned about small-arms fire. "That person is Schale's janitor."
Noa fixated on that spot. Even when she was talking, while the other monitors had action, her eyes didn't drift away. "Under what authority are they commanding foreign students on Millennium territory?"

"Now you understand the problem." Yuuka's elbows planted down like an artillery's spade as her hands wreaked havoc on her scalp. "If this were Tsubakura-sensei then we could've threatened to take away their bottle money."

"Their what?" Noa asked, shocked.

Yuuka ignored that. "Yabusame-sensei? They sometimes seem to forget what their name is. I'm genuinely not sure of their opinions with anything because it could be a spur of the moment thought or hallucination. I'm sure that they'd hear 'illegal' and think you said 'a li'l gal'. And the girls! Somehow the girls who work under them don't care about their quirks! I've been chastised by Kikyou-san and Ui-san legitimately more times than they've legitimately criticised Sensei! If these girls are anything like them, then trying to convince them is useless! We need to focus on disabling rather than diplomacy. Talk can come later!"

At this point the unflappable demeanor of Noa was starting to deteriorate. These were the same people who had drilled a hole straight through the school's defenses.

"Then only Cleaning and Clearing can deal with them." Noa started typing out the commands, coordinating movements between five different squadrons. "I'm calling in some smaller squads to flank them. If we can pin them between the tower and enough agents, then they can be sitting ducks for when the maids come in. No matter how strong they…"

With how tense the situation had become, constant communication was essential. Any sentence being interrupted made them snap. Yuuka didn't look away from the screen, but sharply bit out her name. "Noa-chan! Noa-chan! What happened?"

Noa leaned away from the screen in confusion.

"Cleaning and Clearing are occupied."

Yuuka nearly overtook the entire monitor as she leaned over. "What!? This has to be a joke!"

"No, it says clearly right here." Noa's finger ran down where it read in bold red, 'CONFIDENTIAL'. "If our computers don't have access to it, then either they were legitimately right about a shadow leader, or it's Rio since she's the only one above our heads."

Wary glances were exchanged. The president simultaneously had a great reputation and a horrible one. Between them was an entire conversation of assumptions: the president was acting authoritatively in a situation that she thought was threatening for the student body. This was the 'Rio' method: act benevolently yet do it in such a suspicious way that trusting the decision was hard if your heart was pure.

Both knew that they were too deep into the crisis to correctly respond however. Yuuka reluctantly pulled away, readjusting the plan now that they didn't have Millennium's last resort in their back pocket.

"Someone try to get President Rio on the line. In the meantime, we need to do our best to mitigate the damages until Cleaning and Clearing are freed from their previous obligation. We'll herd them towards more defensible positions that can hopefully stall them for as long as we need it to be done," Yuuka said.

The most squads were deployed in between the intruders and Seminar's situation room. It never hurt to be careful, after all.

Chapter Text

With her back against the wall, she heaved deep breaths. Another flurry of bullets carving off pieces of the gold-esque sculpture made a heavy shudder work through her body. It wasn't a cheap piece by any means, yet she would've thought that money would translate into durability; then her other mind that wasn't fearing for her life would retort that artists didn't think in simplistic terms such as usability or feasibility as they were the types to capture miracles in a bottle. She should know, since she still peripherally lived that kind of life. Then she would lose whatever scraps of graciousness that were left behind as another piece of the sculpture that represented progress was dusted into oblivion, then she'd regain that graciousness gleefully thinking about the maelstrom she could drum up if a picture could be taken of the half-destroyed sculpture then posted online with a provocative caption such as, "this is the future of Millennium."

Eventually the bullets became somewhat dull. Forget that nearly the rest of the people, including her club, had been knocked out and were splattered around like a new carpet on their crumbling cover. She was dreading so many things. For example, it was always a monumental effort getting the club to go out and be normal for any amount of time. She liked online stuff! A lot! Otherwise she wouldn't be part of a hacking club like Veritas. Doing an outing together on the same day as there happened to be gun-toting psychos shearing through campus was absolutely not on her! Nobody could blame her! She usually was the type to revel in the chaos but not when the last of her friends, the only other person to have survived on the third floor of the sculpture, was clutching her head in the corner with an incriminating glare. It wasn't her fault for once! Occasionally Endearing, Konuri Maki, a RM338 chosen because the 'True Velocity' part of its name had instantly charmed her, and a friend of a friend suggested it'd be the easiest to modify into having a paintball alternative fire. Guess what it was loaded with on the exact day that they'd been ambushed.

"What?" Maki asked, annoyed. The little rectangle opening punched through the wall was eroding in real time with every wave of bullets carving new chomps away at the gold. The walls had these openings at random points as a shell around the true sculpture: a double helix of staircases that exceeded above the shell, which itself transitioned into arms holding various items meant to display the various disciplines that Millennium encouraged—squares, abacuses and the like. It was a display that she had mocked for being beyond tacky. Beyond that the helix eventually twisted into both the staircases meeting themselves at the center. She personally found it hilarious that the hand holding a calculator was laying by her feet.

The other girl wasn't trying to look incriminating. She genuinely thought that Maki was trying her best when planning a day when they shopped together as a full club, though it took accidentally looking at her friend's search history to become fully convinced. Trust was easy to come by with the members of her club in practical pursuits, not so much in anything outside of the digital world. Even she could admit that it was a bit too easy to shut themselves inside the club room for long periods of time, in a way that was clearly unhealthy. It's just what happens when all your hobbies could be done inside. Therefore it was a bit easier to convince her than it should've, distracting her from checking the headlines or the weather report. Maybe then they would've rescheduled to a day when people weren't hit with lunacy. She'd even worn a nicer jacket and pants in anticipation for hitting the town. Tech, Moral, Leadership Support, Kagami Chihiro, an M27 that only had the bullets already loaded in its magazine because her classier clothes had much fewer pockets.

She really didn't blame Maki. Yet maybe something deep inside herself still did, because she was glaring over to her friend as the return fire beneath them became more intermittent.

"I'm not angry," she said.

"You look angry," Maki said.

Chihiro readjusted herself. The chairs they'd gotten in Veritas were tailor-made for a gamer's posture. A metal corner wasn't. Already her butt and lower back were hurting. "It's not directed towards you. I'm just frustrated."

When they were going to talk more, there was another round of bullets. Students in Kivotos quickly became attuned to the specific voices of guns. Caliber became language and niches of the tone became accent. Both poked out from the same window to see students arranged in triangles like billiards spread out towards cover. It was a mystifying action of coordination how benches, pillars, and anything that could provide some protection was quickly taken up without a space left behind. Like water the courtyard had been filled. Their assailants who'd been freely standing in the open retreated back for their own cover.

Maki smirked, picking up one of their classmate's guns and yanking back the receiver.

"You ready for some payback?"

Chihiro did the same. It felt like cheating using another student's gun, but she'd used all her ammunition within the first minute.

"Let's teach 'em not to mess with Veritas ever again."

Meanwhile, shoulders shoved together, the two Schale girls had ducked for the first piece of cover that had stuck out: a strangely large water fountain that was plopped straight in the open corner of the courtyard. Sweat was mutually running down both their faces as they heard bullets ping off the surprisingly repellant material. Yabusame was too busy sniffing the air to pay attention to such things as 'cover', yet hadn't suffered a single bullet hitting them since the altercation started.

Whatever the case, both had accepted that their sensei was rather marvelous and didn't need to worry about human concerns such as survival, compared to the girls whose backs felt the bullets rattling their flimsy block. It only made them more wary when bullets started kicking up the turf around their toes—another angle. The last survivors, of which could probably be counted on your hands unless you had suffered an accident or otherwise were born without the full set of fingers, had started retaliating. It sounded like a legion of planes flying together as a pack of guns started firing wildly: there were two of them and what could've been a thousand of opponents. Ichika could tell that none of them were aiming as she saw a constellation get poked out of the wall they were facing until it was more bullet than wall.

"Found 'em! They have a smell like cleaner and lemons," Yabusame said. They stretched something like a yoga pose, one leg sturdy and the other stretched, where their nose was conspicuously wagging towards a direction. "C'mon! We're locked 'n' loaded."

Even Izuna seemed to be wary. "Yabusame-dono, we're being fired at! Where are we even going? Why were we supposed to shoot at these people!?"

"They might've been the shadow leader?" they said as if it were obvious. "I know where they are now, or at least the general direction. C'mon!"

Before either could complain, Yabusame started walking away. The girls felt complete solidarity in incredulity. They locked eyes, horrified, as it felt like the bullets tightened their spread to start carving trenches around their feet. Tucking in their knees wasn't doing anything anymore when bullets were miraculously pinging off the bowl and nearly piercing through the full mechanism. They needed to create a miracle since none was coming.

Between the ninja's fingers came tiny gray balls that were thrown out behind them.

Each one burst into opaque clouds when they hit the ground. Thick puffs brightly reflecting the sun engulfed a quarter of the courtyard. Many turned away as they felt as if flashbanged, many more coughing out the milky taste that caught in their throats. For those who were deployed, confusion spread through the ranks as their earpieces seemed to fizzle out. Some took charge and commanded those lower ranks around them, whereas others randomly fired and sometimes hit their allies caught in the smoke, others trying to carefully trace around the perimeter, and yet more helping their allies who'd been caught in the initial burst of smoke instead of starting the pursuit. It was a disaster, especially when more smoke bombs came from the cloak and swallowed another swath of troops.

Yabusame came out of the cloud with their hands behind their back, walking. Izuna came out in a leap, cocking back her arm and throwing out another set of bombs before leaping again. Ichika seemed to have the clouds stick to her like cotton candy as she came out running, letting dainty coughs wreck her throat as her gun's barrel would nearly scrape against the grass with how carelessly she was running. Nobody was immediately following, and those who were trying to keep the intruders in sight unfortunately found that their camera feed in the entire sector had snipped shut.

Back at the statue, the girls fell back on their butts and gave simultaneous sighs of relief. Laughter came from Maki. Chihiro looked over strangely, before a chuckle slid from her. Then Maki laughed harder at her friend, making Chihiro laugh for no reason at all, making both of them cackling in harmony.

"That," Maki started, wiping a tear from her eye, "was crazy!"

Chihiro clutched her stomach that had started feeling as though it was convulsing. "You said it! Whew! I'm sad the others were knocked out so early so they couldn't join us! That was, wow! What a rush!"

"I'm totally going to find out who those people were and join them!"

"Yeah! So we can get revenge and—" Chihiro processed what Maki said, cutting off the laughter and becoming deathly serious. "What?"

"They were awesome, right!? They just came in, started shooting everyone, and we don't even know why they were here in the first place. That's some chaos that I can enjoy, especially if it's for some higher cause. Heck, why don't those maids act like that? They're all shadowy and stuff—blegh! Unilateral action's more fun for everyone involved," Maki said.

"Now listen here—"

Whatever reasoning Chihiro was going to say was interrupted by a meteor crashing down. Neither could prepare as the entire monument became shrouded. It began and flooded their initial room, but started spilling from the windows and staircases in a rolling, doughy mass that quickly expanded. Those few still conscious below ran, jumped down, tripped, begged a higher power, tried getting an unconscious student out of the way as the surprisingly fast mass sucked in more and more of the Monument For Infinite Progress. None escaped. What was left behind was a golden pillar riddled with bullet holes and bodies of students draped over the windows and the floor from desperate dives for escape; fog rolled around its foot for long afterwards, making the golden hands that littered the turf seem like zombies pulling themselves from the grave.

Tsubakura later that week had an application form in hand. Wondering who would ever willingly join their club, they handed it over to Kikyou for a background check. Ui joined Tsubakura in looking over Kikyou's shoulder when she pulled up the picture of the desecrated monument posted on their hopeful applicant's page, apparently causing a controversy as the comments section was a warground about if the title, Infinite Progress' Consequences, was meant to be mocking or not (it was).

She was approved on the spot.

"Yabusame-sensei, may I ask where we're headed?"

They were walking down one of the many cramped areas of Millennium. Though not directly opposed to beauty, there were plenty of areas that were intentionally made to fully squeeze every last droplet of efficiency. One of these were the outer dorm areas that were made intentionally for having cheap, small places so that every student could have a roof over their heads. Paved paths between the concrete blocks were lined with the same dirt and trees measured down to their centimeters. Main routes, kept in a grid, laid gigantic panels intending for hundreds of students to be going in contradictory directions during the morning. Wrapping around a much nicer district of housing gave it the impression of a wall—not helped by it being the nearest part of Millennium to Gehenna and Trinity, making it the first impression of those students if they were to walk straight over.

Initially Ichika assumed they were led into the area because it was a complicated web of minor streets leading towards complexes; all with cameras, yet she was confident that it was a better place to hide than any other section of Millennium. Slipping out from the campus would also be trivially easy with so many angles covered and alternate routes to slip away if their opponents attempted flanking them. If they were to continue their mad quest then it'd also provide them with the necessary amount of chokepoints for their opponents to be forced to approach in smaller numbers.

Of course, she had been wrong from the outset. Instead of heading towards any specific direction, it seemed like Yabusame was more intent on getting themselves lost by taking turns at random.

"Head of?"

"Head off?" Ichika asked back, tiredly.

"Cabbage, generally," Yabusame groused. "I like meat and so does Tsuba and li'l Shion eats anything, but Tsuba sometimes pretends that they're vegetarian. I'd like to leave sometimes but then it makes me think that everything's so boring. I like Tsuba~! And Shion! And li'l crow-chan and ninja-chan!"

"I like you too, Sensei-dono!" Izuna yelled back with equal enthusiasm.

"You changed our nicknames…" Ichika said.

"Did you like the previous ones? It was a little embarrassing hearing 'chan' thrown around so casually," Izuna said.

The right side of Ichika's face had a sudden error where the entirety of it twitched at once. "A-Are you one to talk? We've barely known each other for two days and I've already graduated to Ichi-chan in your eyes—which is a rather dissonant nickname, I'd like to add!"

Izuna was staring in pure confusion.

"What are you talking about? We're now blood brothers. We fight with one another, watch the backs of one another, support one another, sleep with one another, eat with one another, and serve the same lord with all our hearts! Friends don't compare to the deep bond that we now share!"

"Bond?" Yabusame mumbled, looking around and sniffing. "Valence or Covalent?"

Initially Ichika was thinking that they were making another pun until she actually looked up to the street signs: Valence Street and Covalent Boulevard. It kind of weirded her out. Academies should be more normal and name their streets after historical heroes that may or may not have existed since they were only mentioned a single time in a crumbling text.

"For what?" Izuna asked in lieu of Ichika being lost in thought.

"Where the fighting is."

When Yabusame said that, the girls sharpened their ears and realized that they'd been so involved with making fast quips that a fight had slipped by their intention. Not far at all—on Covalent Boulevard, by the way—was a fully involved fight. Gunshots and screams were coming that seemed entirely disconnected from the current incident, since there was no reason that anyone except themselves should be getting fired at. Sharing a nod, the girls ran down the street with their guns cocked and cover kept in mind. Yabusame languidly followed behind them, sniffing the air as they went.

Sparse design was intentional, because otherwise the streets could get clogged up with students being bottlenecked as they hurriedly traveled. Therefore every space-saving measure was abused to keep the place tidy: streetlights were built into the surrounding buildings and trashcans shoved into corners where they were able, benches and amenities found indoors as students were expected to spend their leisure time in the many parks of Millennium anyways, tiny lights built in the sides of the walkways creating trails of light that suggested constant movement and psychologically impelled students to keep moving. Fire escapes were rationally conditioned to only side streets of little significance, and were more involved than normal fire escapes even then. Open-air staircases with railings of stone and walkways of metal led downwards—and more options besides, with catwalks that could extend to other buildings and ladders that would extend to the ground floor designed as if burglars didn't exist. It was in the stairways where the aggrieved group was pinned down by assailants who didn't bother taking cover.

It was a bizarre situation that they'd walked into. Two people were fully dressed in maid uniforms smack dab in the center of the walkway. Despite not dodging nor taking cover, there didn't seem to have been a single bullet that grazed them, partially because of the hell they were wreaking on their opponents. Anytime the scalp of a head poked out, so much as a finger, there was another barrage that seemed to tear the moisture out of the air from how much they were firing. Neither seemed particularly worried, though the Schale girls noted how neither were making any moves to approach despite seemingly having the upper hand. It was a strange situation where they weren't sure what to do: moving ahead silently was definitely an option, though Ichika thought leaving their backs exposed was a horrible idea with how professionally the maids coordinated.

The deadlock was broken when Yabusame finally caught up and continued walking ahead. Neither wanted to leave them alone, and loyally (reluctantly) followed by their side as they approached the maids that hadn't noticed the newcomers yet.

Very nearly the handgun used by the brown-haired girl shot through Yabusame's throat when she finally noticed them. Now they were at an impasse. There were strange intruders who politely approached an obvious fight. She wasn't even sure what the recommended procedure for such a situation would be. Generally their callsign was meant to invoke fear, a quick and violent extraction that'd have the enemies neutralized without anyone knowing what happened. It wasn't embarrassing to admit that's what a good amount of her identity went into—otherwise it was impossible to keep up with the skill demanded for C&C. Embarrassment came with failing at her duties, like wondering if she was meant to shoot at the intruders or politely guide them away from the operation area. Kill Switch, Murokasa Akane (though she should not be called that while on an operation), a Welrod that she'd picked at random since it'd be remiss of her to rely on a gun for her duties. Explosives, poison, garrote, professional dusting, close quarters, she had everything under her belt, and yet her tongue was tied when greeted by a surprise.

"Hello!" Yabusame said.

That finally got the attention of the other girl, raising her gun and pulling her finger from the trigger before letting the barrel anywhere near non-combatants. Technically she was the one who was guiding the operation, which is why nothing had suffered collateral damage yet. It also meant she placed herself in front of the other callsign before Akane could aggravate the person that she immediately recognized. She acknowledged that their team was well-balanced for everything: long distance-support, medium-ranged initiation, and the nuke which attacked everything; so too it reflected in their demeanors by having the intimidating ones, cheerful one, and cool-headed one, with herself as the only one who bothered reading material outside their job to keep well-updated on Kivotos' politics. She was the only one recognizing their place as an extraordinary team amongst equally extraordinary teams. Perhaps being somewhat humble was learned, perhaps it was in her nature. She was carved for the assassin's life, not the philosopher's. Gently Violent Hand, Kakudate Karin, a Boys anti-tank rifle that was her one true love in life.

"How do you do, sensei of Schale?" she asked with special emphasis, making Akane bristle behind her.

"Well as the water drawn from a well!" they said.

"That's…" Karin glanced behind herself, Akane swirling a finger around her head in response, "a good thing."

"Heeey!" came one of the girls who'd been pinned down. A familiar set of cat ears had poked over the railing. "Sensei! They're shooting at us! Incident resolve them!"

"They learn the lingo quick," Ichika said incredulously.

Coincidentally, she was also the one on her team who mostly kept up to date with Kivotos' politics, though she'd admit that the president was also much more erudite in those matters than people would expect. It was still her that unquestionably read the most to keep informed about how their job may change, which is why she had a feeling of foreboding that crept up her back the longer the conversation went on for.

Eventually pieces came together. She couldn't stop it. Nobody could stop Yabusame once they had their sights set on something. She also knew that Izuna and her were eerily strong together, yet she considered herself a squid: an intelligent creature who stood above the minnow, a creature that didn't understand a shark was out of its league, an intelligent creature who would usually give a diversion and get the hell out of an elite team's sight.

Yabusame held up a finger, still sniffing the air.

"Izu-chan," sniff, "the," sniff, "paper."

"The paper~!" Izuna took out the paper and cleared her throat. "We'd appreciate your cooperation with resolving the incident. What's your name and occupation? Um, Ichi-chan, can you deal with the other paper?"

With a sigh, Ichika took her own and got ready with another pen. Both had the position of olden tax collectors as their pens hovered above the pages. It was very nearly an endearing sight for the maids.

"Do we give our full callsign or…?"

"Anything you're comfortable with is fine!"

Neither looked directly at Schale, making sure their targets didn't escape. "Cleaning and Clearing, call sign 03."

"Cleaning and Clearing, call sign 02."

"Are you doing 02 or 03?" Izuna asked, leaning over to make sure they weren't replicating the same page. Another clear of her throat later, she said, "did you cause this incident? We're referring to the shutdown of the Game Development Department, if you're confused."

Karin raised an eyebrow. "We weren't aware of the Game Development Department being shut down. We're here because there is an unlicensed student trying to attend Millennium classes and clubs. It is nothing so nefarious, let me assure you. Most likely she'll be processed like a normal student who's transferring after being disciplined."

"'Kay. Dot, dot, and dot. We can skip that and that and, okay! Will you cooperate with resolving the incident?" Izuna asked.

"...I didn't put any deeper thought into it since I assumed that it was another one of Yabusame-sensei's quirks, but isn't this paper meant to railroad us into a fight? I don't think I'd be nearly so gracious if someone was asking questions like these," Ichika said.

"Tsuba did make it~," Yabusame said.

Before they could dot the i's, cross the t's and start firing at each other, there was a gunshot from the nearby alleyway, opposite of where the Game Development Department had staked their claim. Two girls of varying amounts of incognito were standing confidently with their shoulders squared and guns clearly brandished. The one on the right went through painstaking effort so her qipao was hidden beneath an even baggier hoodie, hair stuffed cleanly underneath wherever there may have been room. A domino mask was taped across to further conceal her features. Along with that was an opportunity for her to fully ditch the gun hidden inside of a guitar case on her back, letting her fists do the talking.

Meanwhile her partner put no special effort in concealing herself. Other than the oversized fedora that now sat over her eyes, nothing was done about her mostly monochrome suit with a black scarf tied tightly around her neck, usually allowed to hang freely. Finally she had a reason to wear an even bulkier black trenchcoat that didn't conceal her black and white twin pistols that were brandished, nor her tailored suit, nor anything that made her very obviously a Shanjiang student.

The red hair student hissed at her teammate.

"Why did you do that? Now they all know we're here!"

"A man needs to make a choice sometime in his life. There's times for discretion and times for action." She coolly let her ruby eyes peek from beneath the brim. "This is a time for action."

The red hair gestured to the opposite side. "Sometimes diplomacy speaks louder than a gift. These fists aren't free, and neither is my burning passion. Only a woman who has earned it may have but a slice."

The trenchcoat finally had enough. She pointed one of her pistols beneath red hair's chin. "And what do you know about subtlety? What do you know about action!?"

"I know that a single action at the right time can be worth a thousand silences, and being silent at the right time can be worth a thousand actions." She puffed out her chest, unchastened, making sure that there was not a single part of their bodies floating further than an inch from the other. "You know nothing about how to be like water."

"I know how to catch a perp!" fedora yelled back. "If you'd just let me, then, woman, I'd do it! As you are right now? Your heart is nothing! It's feeble!"

"Is it just me, or does it sound like they're just saying quotes at each other?" Ichika asked. Recognizing that the third party was now not paying attention, she asked aloud, "does anyone know who these people are?"

The maids both shook their heads.

"I don't know who they are, but they're so cool!" Izuna squealed.

"Okay! This place is starting to feel crowded, so I think it's time that we deal with the shadowy leader! I finally recognize the scent of the specific radio waves that they're sending!" Yabusame said. Their fingers went two opposite directions. "Either they're in the center of the school, or they're in the center of campus. What do you girls think is more likely?"

Ichika opened her mouth to respond before there was an interruption from the cheap seats over on the staircase, Midori thinking that it was finally time for her to speak up. "Thematically it'd make more sense for the final boss to be in their own base. Millennium is pretty secure, but there's not as much defensive firepower on campus, or at least none that I know of."

When she had her mouth halfway opened, one of the maids said, "if there was a shadowy leader on campus then we would've heard about it."

Then once again she was in the middle of getting a syllable out when the hooded girl who interrupted the oncoming fight said, "it wouldn't do for the person pulling the strings to have a public personality."

"For once, you speak sense," trenchcoat said. "If you already know that there's a secret leader, then they wouldn't be so careless as to wait for you in a conspicuous place like this."

Ichika was dead set on letting a frustrated growl loose when her legs were swept inwards. Right when her head would've smashed against the pavement, there was a strong arm that interjected. She could feel the truth: it was in an arm hooking underneath her legs and her body being forced to curl inwards into the main warmth, it was the other arm that would've had her neck rolling around if she weren't conscious enough to do it herself. She heard many gasps and a single, "oh my," that made her flustered enough to fully open her eyes.

There was a blue sky straight up. A face was looking down over their shoulder, hands and legs hooked around the body to give herself the most secure piggyback ride in the world. This wasn't the maneuver that they discussed. The maneuver was meant to have Ichika herself piggybacking and Izuna perching, "like an awesome ninja"; there wasn't meant to be a bridal carry.

"Wow! Your eyes are really pretty, Ichi-chan!" Izuna said.

Moments later they were flying. Everybody who was present at the scene gawked. Midori, Momoi, Yuzu, and the yet unnamed girl were running away with the greatest distraction they could've asked for—though Midori made sure they ran at an angle so she could get a good picture for her MomoTalk. The maids and incognito girls were staring with gaping jaws. Cameras and transmissions, previously turned off in half of the campus, flickered back on when Schale flew in sight of a news crew covering the Millennium incident. Schale flying acted as an impromptu flare gun too, giving the squads that were hunting for them converge on the last point that flew upwards.

Covalent Boulevard lit up with gunfire as they left.

Far from where Millennium's campus had ended was a monorail heading to parts unknown. They had entered extremely mountainous territory for quite some time, letting the peaks speedily travel beneath them. With the speed they were going, entire mountains were surpassed within seconds. It was a sight fit for a screensaver or movie rather than being experienced in real life. Though none were extreme enough to have white caps, it was certainly at heights that couldn't be surpassed with a brisk afternoon hike, and had gone on for so long that looking from both sides would have you dizzy with the amount of tiny details hidden within the mountains' embrace. Still through all this was a straight line impaling dirt and curving like intestines when it was forced to.

Afternoon—and Ichika was amazed that barely five hours had passed since she'd been called to duty—brought the sun as a constant annoyance in the corners of your eye while also emphasizing the many pools that cropped up little villages of trees and bushes. From high to low there was water, animals drinking it, streams dribbling down little enclaves. It was a place that could be found on a map yet either of the girls would be hard-pressed to point within the area of where they were flying.

Eventually there was a cloud layer that seemed to entrap the mountains ahead. Breaking through that finally had them lower down to where a train passing would nearly clip their toes.

Nobody had any words—Yabusame especially because they'd seen much more impressive cities. It wasn't all that large. It wouldn't nearly be enough to hold all of Kivotos' population within its walls that eclipsed every skyscraper yet seemed like a baby underneath the central tower and surrounding mountains. Roads curved around freely multiple stories above, making them seem like a net entrapping the city whole.

Everything seemed to line up for that moment. Thousands of windows had the sun spike across their faces. The tallest tower, a modern day Babel, seemed to be glaring down at them as the flight slowed to a helicopter's speed.

But Ichika was feeling put out. She'd been dragged around since the start of the day and while many moments were fun or exciting or that feeling when you had perfect camaraderie, she was still getting annoyed at everything in general. Surely not her partner, whose hyperactive mannerisms made it feel as though she were talking with a grade schooler. Surely not Sensei, whose absentmindedness made it feel like she was the leader who had to bend the knee for a subordinate. Surely not the Game Development Department, who called them over for a completely superfluous reason. Surely not Millennium, for having eccentric geniuses running around its walls—along with maids for some reason. Surely it wasn't a single person's fault and neither was it every person's fault. The blame was with her for getting annoyed in the first place, which is what repeated in her head.

"You said you 'smelled' a radio wave, Sensei?" Ichika asked.

"Hm mm! There were a bunch that were transmitting to the shadowy leader and here we are!" Yabusame said.

There was something off with their tone, Ichika noticed. It was as though she were snapped at. That was absurd though. Yabusame was Yabusame. Imagining her sensei as annoyed felt nearly sacreligious.

"To think that Yabusame-dono has such a technique! While I only pitifully learn from previous masters, they're already creating new maneuvers in the art of being sensei!" She punched the air, then quickly deflated. "I don't mean to make you mad, Sensei. I'm impressed. Truly, I am! It feels as though I can't give you my all at the moment however. It's strange."

"Maybe all the hard work has caught up with everyone? We should go back and get food. I'll get everything. We'll have odorigui~," Yabusame said.

"I like my food a little less alive," Ichika said.

"And we'd have to fly alllll the way back here," Izuna moaned. She blinked in astonishment. "Nin nin! Was I just refusing my master's orders? What could possibly be happening? Have I become that tired?"

"...I don't even feel all that impressed about seeing an empty city. Maybe we're getting desensitized," Ichika said. "No, but that doesn't sound right either. It could be that being so high up is depriving us of oxygen. That sounds better?"

It was the strangest thing that she'd ever seen. The face of their sensei, usually so cocksure, had faded into a sullen white. They were looking around with their hackles raised. For once their gray irises had centered in the world around them.

"Yabusame-sensei?" Ichika broached.

They glanced at her. "I have a baaad feeling."

"Kehehehe…" came a voice from above.

Ichika was the first to see them, Izuna was the first to feel intimidated, and Yabusame was the first to recognize them.

"Oh noooooo. No wonder everyone was feeling annoyed," Yabusame said, tone biting.

They flew down, face seemingly stuck in a smug expression since it never dropped when they spoke.

"What does 'this' mean when one is 'hated' by the one who is considered 'empty-headed'? Some would say the 'same' about a dog who 'bites' a stranger, yet is usually affectionate with 'anyone' who enters its territory, that the 'stranger' was the one at wrong; but I say that those who 'agree' with such an adage are the 'fools', for it is the 'dog' who is the mindless beast who cannot understand higher 'concepts'—such as 'heresy' itself, if you are 'wanting' for an example of the 'myriad' that exist in this 'world' that we now 'know' to contain Kivotos—and thus we 'cannot' take the idiocy—'lack' of 'logic'—as a 'knowledge' in itself, further 'reinforced' by the 'fact' morality itself is a product of 'higher logic'. No, there is no 'mind' in the seat of the 'heart' nor perhaps the 'soul'. Have you been 'blinded' by my heretical 'genius' yet? It is 'counterintuitive' with normal 'logic' yet is logic in itself. I must 'assume' that you've been stunned 'silent' for you have stopped flying 'forwards'."

Down came a person that the two weren't sure what to do with. Their purple hair descended in clumps. Their baggy pants had strange patterns on them. The multiple cloaks they were nearly made them look like a homeless person who had scrounged for whatever was within reach, and Ichika was certain that the tie would've been instantly declared illegal if the Tea Party had ever seen it, some mess of triangles that seemed to invert in themselves. Purple eyes smugly looked down upon them like there was some sort of greater dynamic the girls were missing there. People had trouble remembering their title because of its pointlessness, but there was also no way to shorten it for every word is important: Eternal Senselessness Bearing the Alias of "Chaos" Who Manipulates Gravity At Will and is the First Human to Have Explored Beyond the Barrier Which Separates One Land From Another, Doctor Wilhelm von Clausewitz Halcyon HISUIMARU, with the ability to manipulate gravity at will already activated.

Izuna's eyes were half-lidded halfway through the half-understandable speech.

"...who is this guy?"

"My, my. I can see that despite the one known as 'Yabusame Houlen' being 'promoted' to the prestigious position of 'sensei', they have not learned a single 'ounce' of how to perform their 'role' as a teacher of the 'young', idiot, and feeble-hearted—hopefully more of the 'former' than any of the other 'roles', else it would truly be an 'insurmountable' path for them to climb—though this was always the 'result' of putting someone such as they in a 'role' where their 'quick wit' and 'imaginary self' could take the 'center' stage, which has 'never' in the history of 'humanity' helped in 'bettering' others—or so my 'layman' understanding of the art of neutrally 'chronicling' human's place in 'existence', otherwise known as the art of 'history', has 'informed' me; for it is a vaunted 'place' that equally has the opportunity to 'improve' the lives of millions 'equally' as destroying the lives that have been 'trusted' in the palms of your 'hands', as there is no 'greater' node which 'intersects' with so many 'arenas' in which we are expected to 'duel' in. Surely not 'I' would be the 'person' that I am today without the 'education' that I'd received in the various 'disciplines' that I now excel at, at which it'd be equal 'folly' to expect that same amount of 'dedication' if there were not a 'basis' to build upon; though the 'potential' was always there, it required there to be a 'monument' already built in the shifting 'sands' known as the 'temptation' of memory."

Izuna was so shocked when there was a break to breathe that she started jabbing her finger towards them.

"You're still talking?"

That managed to break Clause into a pensive frown.

'And 'quite' rude to boot. You 'truly' are a student of Yabusame. Remember this: there are 'leylines' underneath the 'Earth's' crust and connected above in 'constellations' that only those attuned to heretical 'arts' have achieved. What they 'require' is connection. So too 'inside' each and everyone of 'us' are connections 'which' are how the 'form' of the greater object that is 'being' constructed would 'exist'—our 'thoughts', our 'beliefs', our 'rivalries', our 'ability' to 'perceive' the world as it is, our 'powers'. Therefore, it is 'connection' itself that is the ability we should all 'strive' for, and it is 'anathema' to our powers of both the 'natural' and the 'supernatural', such as Yabusame's here, if we are to 'disconnect' things as they 'are'. It is this 'reason' that 'dissolving' bonds is so toxic. Playing here is 'key'. When you 'interrupt' my sentences when I'm mid-'thought', it destroys the 'essences' that are building up and 'trying' to communicate towards 'you' in my benevolent 'generosity'. Hm~. In this way, you may 'say' that I am assuming the 'role' myself as sensei, though I 'dare' not pretend my 'grand' self to be in exact same 'place'—professional, I am 'saying', not 'physical' or whatever else that 'you' may 'create'—as 'yourself', Yabusame—or am I to refer to you as 'Yabusame-sensei' now?"

Yabusame was staring ahead, eyes glazed over even more than they usually were. Ichika's pale blue eyes were staring at the sky, glazed over as lockjaw seemed to have taken over her face. Izuna was alone.

She didn't know what to say. "Um, since you're not learning from Yabusame-dono, I think that it'd be 'Yabusame' for you, um, yeah. I still don't know your name."

"There is 'so' much to tackle with your 'brief' sentence that I may need a 'water' break to 'cleanse' my parched throat when I've fully 'unraveled' the implications, both 'intentional' and 'unintentional', that you have 'laid' out in this 'thrilling' conversation that we've thus far 'embarked' on. Certainly I'm 'lost' as to what first to 'talk' about, for 'this' is a 'novel' experience in 'talking' with the 'mystics' of this place; at least 'novel' for myself, as I've 'heard' that there are true 'humans' here that are 'devoid' of the 'supernatural' that has become so 'mundane' for the quote-on-quote 'humans' that have been touched by 'Mugenri'—entirely of 'which' is the mystical 'land' having its own 'rules' which seeks to 'absorb' the 'exceptional', for it is improbable that the 'exceptional' have the ability to 'avoid' coming to the 'conclusion' or having 'brushed' against the life of another who has 'realized' the ultimate 'conclusion', inevitable to those reaching the 'heavens' through either 'superficial' supernatural knowledge or the 'heretical' knowledge of which I have come to bear—in which case it is rather a 'law' in the same sense that comes with a 'field' of science and I have 'recognized' it as such and 'tested' the hypothesis, leaving the 'ability to name it upon my 'bearer'; until I have 'come' to a scientific 'journal' that will publish my 'findings', you shall be the 'first' to 'know' of its 'name' that I have created: the 'Law' of 'Ultimate' Knowledge, those who are 'exceptionally' gifted in some way 'come' into Mugenri's 'orbit' because it is the 'summation', or 'trap', of knowledge itself."

Izuna realized that she was the only one paying some kind of attention. She wondered if Yabusame knew what they were doing but felt that she couldn't stay silent. Maybe it was too rude or she felt bad for the long-winded person, but she couldn't help herself from making some kind of response.

"Okay," she said.

"Now that I have 'revealed' the depths of my 'scientific' knowledge, it would be 'unwise' for you to continue 'referring' to me as a simple 'doctor' or 'professor' or person on the 'street', even 'wiseman', as I am much more 'unique' and 'brilliant' than any of those 'simplistic' titles would otherwise 'have' to 'mantle' upon my shoulders. T'is a pity that so 'few' at this 'moment' know of my 'name' and title as 'such', which 'leaves' the 'duty' to be the 'herald' of my 'coming on so 'few' shoulders! T'is the 'burden' that some have to 'bear'! Thusly, I 'shall' exposit myself, my 'position' and you shall 'know' who stands before you: you may 'refer' to my person as Doctor Wilhelm von Clausewitz Halcyon HISUIMARU, with HISUIMARU 'capitalized' if you are 'using' my full 'title' as you should do; though I 'know' of the 'plight' of the poor as I've been in the 'position' of scrounging for 'scraps' myself before in this 'life', so I have come to a 'genius' solution for those who 'wield' a limited amount of 'ink', or some 'instrument' that is used to 'write' such as the 'computer' and electricity that 'powers' it, which is a 'magnimonious' feat for 'one' such as 'myself' whose title shall 'reign' through history amongst the 'greats' of discovery, and through my 'benevolence' shall allow 'Tsubakura' a position 'amongst' me in the same 'way' that today Nikola 'Tesla' and Thomas Edison are 'remembered' to be giants of their 'era' where it shall be 'eternally' debated which 'inventor' was the more 'genius' between the 'two': if 'there' is a 'need'—and may it 'only' be a 'need' and not a whim so 'petty' as a 'want'—to 'shorten' my name in the 'interest' of practical 'concerns' such as saving 'money' on paper or 'ink', or any of the other 'devices' as I'd already said, then 'let' it be 'known' that you may 'title' myself as 'Doctor' Clause."

"Okay," Izuna said.

"It is 'considered' in many 'parts' of the 'world', by that I 'mean' cultures which are the 'manifestation' of the 'connections' which are so 'important', a grave error to 'pass' the chance to 'introduce' your own 'title' which has been conferred 'upon' you by your parents or 'yourself' when you have come of 'age', or 'name' if you are not one which 'stands' on their own 'accomplishments'."

She didn't even feel like talking about her status as a ninja. "Izuna. This is Ichika."

"Finally 'we' have become 'acquainted' past mere 'surface' level 'interaction' where we would 'only' refer to one 'another' to any acquaintances or 'friends' as mere 'random chance' that we've 'happened' to cross 'paths' with. T'is hasn't been 'helped' through your 'obstinate' behavior, though it is 'worthy' to note that you have 'been' a much more 'engaged' and patient 'audience' than is common with the many 'beings' that I've met through my 'long' travels, 'travels' in which have 'conferred' upon myself the status of a 'doctor', of which any 'university' worth their salt would 'award' me with a 'degree' for the massive 'gains' that I've 'created' for the whole of the 'human' race—one small 'step', as a great 'man' once said, which feels 'apt' to use in this moment, for it is 'both' referring to our 'relationship' progressing past the 'strangeness' that a plant would feel upon being 'introduced' sensory 'organs' into the beginning of a 'bond', alongside 'creating' the 'necessary' context for 'one' not scientifically 'inclined', such as yourself, to 'understand' what level of 'achievements' that I've managed to create 'within' my 'lifetime'—a 'double-entendre', though not of the 'low brow' type that is so common with 'baser' novels and 'stageplays' back when 'language' was meant to be 'mastered'. Let me 'be' as 'clear' as possible when 'referring' to the 'real' humor that we've 'chanced' upon, for the 'sole' purpose of 'being' understood, that 'there' can't be 'room' for misunderstanding when my 'voice' is grave and 'brow' centered ahead: t'is 'amusing' for Yabusame to be 'conferred' a title of 'respect' for they 'have' few achievements past 'interrupting' my progress 'towards' the pinnacle of 'heretical' knowledge."

"Why do you talk like that?" she asked.

"My, isn't it 'quite' rude for 'mystics' as it is 'adults' and 'humans' and all those other 'species' which inhabit the walls of 'Kivotos' to 'refer' to a person's 'accent', especially if they do not 'qualify' nor 'quantify' what 'part' of their 'speech' they are referring to?"

She cleared her throat. It was very hard to replicate.

"I'm 'asking' why you 'talk' like 'this'?"

"Please don't copy them, Izu-chan. That made me shudder," Yabusame groused.

"Now the great 'sensei' has seen fit to 'join' the conversation and 'break' their 'petulant' silent 'treatment'," Clause said.

Yabusame started glaring at the ground. "Tsuba said that ignoring you would make you go away. You haven't gone away."

"Tsubakura 'has' many 'flaws' with their 'methodology' which is why they're a 'second-rate' scientist 'whose' greatest findings have been in 'fields' of which I have no interest in, that are 'hardly' interesting to 'either' the outsider or scientific 'field' as a whole because of their 'peripheral' use in 'advancing' human knowledge, for it is latent 'talent' that they 'carry'—and I have now 'secured' a position within the 'human canon' for me to be 'content' acknowledging that, yes, 'they' may have 'some' ability 'held within that 'personality' which abhors a good day's 'labor' and 'body' which refuses to 'consent' towards the 'power' of logic—which has 'allowed' them to be carried so 'far' while convincing the 'lesser born' of their genius 'instead' of the true 'bond' that makes a 'great chain to heaven' which the 'ancients' have known such as the 'wise men' of today: that of 'hard work', I say, as have the 'geniuses' of the past which have allowed for me to 'stand' before you with my 'litany' of 'laws' that could now 'create' a library itself, or could've 'founded' the concept of a 'library' if I were born in a lesser time 'when' men were 'ignorant' to the invisible 'processes', both of what is 'outside' logic and what is 'within' logic for they are both subject to—"

The bullet that nearly pierced their brain redirected downwards. Izuna and Yabusame jumped from the sudden crack of the gun.

Ichika was holding up the smoking barrel, seemingly surprised by herself. It wasn't long after that she started laughing, hysterical, kicking her feet around while the gun was still leveled at Clause's head.

"Hahahah! I shot at a haloless person! Ahahaha! I wonder what would happen if the others found out! I'd probably be immediately dismissed! Oh! Maybe I'd become a dropout! Hahahaha!"

"Ichi-chan?" Izuna nearly climbed straight over Yabusame, using their head as a rest as they leaned straight down. "Ichi-chan! Snap out of it!"

"T'is quite 'boorish' to—"

Their voice was cut through the middle as another crack interrupted them. The bullet was interrupted again, digging down into the mountaintop far below. The whole of the purple form was swallowed in Ichika's pale slits, in an icy fury that had the shimmering city behind them.

"Heaven's sake! It is 'not' known to continue—"

Crack.

"If you 'would' allow 'mineself' to—"

Crack.

From then on it was an entire magazine that could be found throughout the echoing mountaintops. The gun nearly fell from Ichika's hand in disbelief as she became a loose pile of sinews and bones.

"None of them hit," she muttered. "You're a devilish figure, Doctor Fuckwitz!"

"It 'pleases' me that despite your 'crass' and rather 'lame' attempt at 'humor', you have 'listened' to—"

Crack.

Ichika's entire arm was badly shaking. Her smile never dropped once.

"Turns out that I had one more! Hahah! Maybe I have another one? And another one! I wonder how many more until I dig into your delectable center!? I have my own kind of science! Maybe you should consider attaching an M.D. to my name!"

"Whilst mineself 'could' be described as 'delectable', it would 'behoove'—"

Crack.

"...hey, this isn't Mugenri," Yabusame said.

"Did you 'forget' that—"

Crack.

It had gotten to the point where Clause had started to look annoyed.

"I don't have to sit here at all!" Yabusame yelled happily. "I can just do this!"

Izuna said something that was lost to the void. The last thing that Ichika saw was Clause's disconcerted face.

"T'is 'painful' to admit, but I 'believe' that my 'operation' in 'stalling' the intruders could be 'deemed' as a 'failure'. Shall I 'inform' the illustrious 'creator' of this 'magnificent' city?" Clause asked to the air.

After a moment's deliberation, they brought up the walkie-talkie that they'd been given.

"Did you manage to repel them?" asked a voice through the radio.

They pressed down on the button. "Though there may be 'news' which is of 'great' service to your altruistic 'cause', and such 'pettiness' should be beneath a 'being' such as I, it still 'grates' on my 'nerves' enough that I'm 'compelled' to give a 'reminder' that I have a 'title' that I earned through 'bravery' and 'ingenuity' that can and should be 'used' when there is an 'appropriate' time, such as these 'rare' moments of peace that those such as us—'people' with a 'destiny' above the common 'rabble'—in the same 'way' that you expect to be 'referred' without your 'name' even if I am in the 'presence' of nobody but my lonesome."

There was a long silence on the other side.

"Did you manage to repel them, Doctor Clause?"

The way that their chest jutted out would've made anyone watching deem them to be pathetic. "Because of the 'power' which 'resides' in the 'person' who has been 'given' the authority of the 'organization' known as 'Schale', my 'attempts' at stalling were for 'naught', which is…"

They continued on, talking without a partner. Once she'd gotten the information, the radio turned off.

Ichika pushed herself up with her elbow. The ground was hard. Her body was aching. Her vision was swimming. Everything felt like it was going to pop off. She wasn't sure what happened and didn't want to know, with how much her vision was spiralling. The only upside was a shadow hanging above her that blocked the sun's last blasts of heat which seemed so violent on the concrete floor.

She slowly raised her head, staring down the long barrel of a gun.

Chapter Text

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"Personality Detach"

---

Her hands were straight. They evenly shot above her head with each mechanical swing of her arm. Other than the superfluous movements in her upper body, there was a gracefulness usually reserved for the fastest creatures on the planet with her running form: the cheetah, the wolf, the greatest endurance runners besides humans embodied in the horses and ostriches, all the animal kingdom would be in awe at the speeds which she was beating across long, empty streets with all her might. Breaths slipped out in short puffs and sucked in easily as water. Everything about her would be the kind of run that'd be demonstrated for a textbook, with nearly every part of her body dedicated towards keeping her ahead of the cracks that traced their chase scene across the city. Only tiny imperfections ruined her perfect energy conservation, such as her being relatively tired from the multiple dead sprints she'd already done and having to readjust her weight from the bouncing rifle. It was more of an annoyance that her rifle was bouncing against her back than anything, but it still distracted from keeping herself alive.

Her pale blue eyes were drinking in spaces ahead. Everything was kept in the facsimile of a city: the windows were built for human use, the facades were clean, the four lane roads led into roundabouts and stoplights at their leisure, everything was kept as a city would be, and would fool anyone if they would see a picture. Cities had grime though. They had signage, they had lights, strange places that were graffitied, wear from the thousands of visits that a skyscraper would have once a day. Nothing impeded Ichika as she crossed down a street and vaulted over the planters that divided opposing lanes. She felt the water stick to her palm from the sprinklers that were programmed to keep that specific soil fresh without infecting the roots—different from one planter to the other, as the whole city was designed to host every species of plant that could be found in Kivotos, making use of every free square inch to spread them throughout the fortress; if one half of the city was destroyed, then it wouldn't send a plant to extinction or make it a monoculture, as the other half would still have been planned to carry thousands of its kind. A masterpiece of human engineering, coordinated by a single person.

Ichika had no mind towards this as much as keeping her momentum. Vaulting was done without slowing down so that she could keep as much mileage as possible, and her foot was raised just enough to catch on the curb without wasting any extra energy. She made sure to get her foot wedged on a piece of asphalt instead of the built-in tramlines, so there was no chance she'd slip when stepping up. The sound of a train smashed into another barely elicited a flinch.

Far ahead the long, steel plates that ran across the city like railroads underneath the asphalt withdrew. Rising like predators cresting a hill came steel walls. Entire roads were cut away as her options were limited to the straight shot towards the central tower—a blood gulch. The highway cutting across the sky like a gigantic grate would be her impassive vigil that watched as she was crunched in a particularly chunky Ichika salsa.

It still wasn't over. The steel plates had barely popped up when she was around the bend. Assumedly her teammates were wreaking havoc wherever they'd ended up too, giving the person controlling them a few more problems to control than they could handle. It was fully exploited by Ichika. Every step had been calculated to give her the best arc possible. The full of her body started leaning despite seeming as if no individual part was leaning. Each kick would burst ahead a little more. Over and over, confidently keeping herself on the edge of the sidewalk despite the first bit of the wall starting to peek above, and leaping above it like a hurdle while keeping near the entirety of her momentum.

The entire mech was fine with leaning. Its feet kicked into the sidewalk, upturning entire plates of concrete and rendering them to little bits as the whole black body scraped against the floor. Blocky ridges dug into the ground to further kill her momentum and give a graceful position to pick herself up. Black trenches created jagged shapes, a mixture of the oils that kept the metal and churned stones, a pile of debris sat at the flat foot. Lasers half-heartedly pierced through buildings from attempted pot shots to slow down her prey. Ichika didn't flinch nor look behind her as the machine's servos started tensing.

Depending on how she was feeling, she could either start bounding or leap. She decided that leaping was much more threatening. With a few specific clenches of her triggers, the mech produced force from a position that wouldn't have been feasible for a mere biological being. The wall was cleared over. A thump louder than thunder resounded across the next blood gulch, walls already working on cutting off the side streets. Both of her mechanical arms ended in pristine weaponry, as were the equally beautiful weapons mounted on her back that could've been mistaken for wings.

She couldn't say that she was annoyed by the intruders. Yes, saving Millennium, and by extension Kivotos, was a good thing, yet she didn't really consider herself as having lofty goals such as those. It was more of a set of obligations: she was a maid, therefore she served, and her master was Rio, therefore she served, and her master's goal was to save Millennium, therefore she served, and intruders had trespassed on master's territory with the intent of ruining master's plans, therefore she served. Turning herself into the perfect maid was an obligation too: doing badly at one of her duties was breaking the obligation that she had when donning the uniform, representing the long line of maids who'd supported their masters with their dying breaths. That's why she was lifting the laser beam onto her shoulder, ready to obliterate her target down to the molecules. Also because it was fun. Maybe mostly because it was fun. Stoned-Faced Fair-Hearted Maid, Asuma Toki, wielding whatever weapon served her fancy: maybe it could be her H&K G11 that she'd been given and christened "Secret Time" when being trained for maid duties, maybe it could be her trusty P320 that was always carried as a backup option, the M314s which were stuck onto her mecha, or the Type-2 Eridu Lasers manufactured by the Engineering Club which were originally meant to microwave food at a distance.

Ichika felt the heat seem to get sucked out from the street. It started in front of her, moved towards her back, little prickles that quickly turned to the same feeling of draping a wet cloth over her skin. Finally she glanced behind, the insufferable coolness feeling as though it was dragging her back. The glare from the gun was the final thing that she saw before she was spirited away.

There was no better way to describe it. At one point she was dead sprinting across the empty streets of a liminal city. The next she was in an eerie dark room, so suddenly that there were yellow lines running across her vision as they adjusted to the light change. The only thing that she could certainly see was the spotlight raining down upon a chair—it was a chair. Surrounding it was enough industrial debris that she could guess that the place was decrepit, and had been decrepit for a long time. No smell or discernible temperature hinted where she may have been.

Suddenly there was a flash. Across the ceiling was a long line, white, that stayed long enough for her to see two figures. Straining her eyes didn't bring anything. Cursing, she started treading towards the only part that she could see. Another flash, this time clearly showing a young girl who was far above, being propelled through means Ichika couldn't see.

The explosions that struck made her instinctively hunker down. Earsplitting cracks ran along the ceiling until her world was spinning. Thankfully it didn't rupture her eardrums or else the voice would've been indistinguishable.

"Ichiiiiika!"

Another transition and then she felt as though flashbanged. The sudden tyranny of the sun reminded her of how the entirety of the make-believe city was made to grind down a person's ability to see: either there were very obvious emitters which would turn the street into millions of carcinogenic screens, white paint that transferred down the sun's authority, and millions of windows which brought the almighty decree down to street level no matter what time of day it was. She blinked out the new purple suns orbiting around her pupils as she started regaining her bearings.

The street. Again. Ahead of her was Toki. They locked eyes. Behind the mecha was the street that she'd been running on, missing an entire lane. From what she could see, it had turned into a flat surface that became a mixture of chocolate chips and fudge that may be a lethal temperature. Toki's bewildered expression didn't make the second glowing eye that started growing from the laser gun's barrel feel any less threatening.

The single glimmer was replaced with the shaded grays of the room once again. This time she'd immediately been hit with information overload. Whites seemed offended that they shared a space with other colors. Little orbs that were around the size of her head flew around with a chaos that suggested that not a single one was aimed—'aimed' referring to a bullet, as the tiny explosions that they'd make when impacting with the ground was enough to tell her they weren't pretty decorations. Just when she thought she had a handle on the situation, a thousand more would join alongside the previous thousand, and it'd recall back into a swarm of locusts that seemed intent on eating the dark. Just when she was about to give up, the world changed.

It was hard to explain how, but what became normal pieces of the floor suddenly divided with the exaggerated sound of a sword swing, the same as a cartoon's imagination of how a sword fight sounded. Yet the results were undeniable, as the floor around her disappeared. That wasn't entirely accurate: above, at strange angles, were pieces of concrete slats that were floating aloft as if they were always there. It was a miracle that she could pick out anything as what previously was a storm started overloading her senses greater than before. Bullets that had previously been flying above were inches away from searing away her skin before they disappeared. It made her self-consciously hunker down, hugging her rifle to her chest as the day was starting to catch up in the worst way.

From the white came a solid figure. Yabusame was doing the dopey smile as they always did and didn't seem to care that multiple of the bullets were one second from impacting them.

"Ichi-chan! Hi~!" They flew a little to the left, disappeared, then appeared above her. "Um, is it this way?" They flew in another direction and appeared behind her. "Oh well! How's it going?"

She didn't feel in the mood for greetings.

"What the hell is going on here, sensei!?"

They seemed confused for a moment. That was the hesitation needed for her to appear in the street again, confirming that the seared part of the road was extraordinarily hot. The yelps attracted the attention of Toki, whose eyes were narrowed.

"I don't appreciate this disappearing act," she said.

"Bite me! Better yet, shove that laser in your gut and pull the trigger!"

"Negative. That would do undue harm to the suit, which would make me—"

Once again she was dragged back into the dark room. This time it seemed as if the room, previously seemingly infinite, had been squished down into a comprehensible space. Below was the black-haired girl who was furiously dodging between the bullets (now better shaped as such) that fell down like rain. Their origin came from little flashes of white, thousands of snow petals that sinking towards the girl who was growing increasingly frustrated if the engine-like howl said anything.

Wrapped around her waist was Yabusame's arm, as if they'd been expecting her.

"What's going on!?" Ichika screeched, losing her patience with every teleport. "And who is that!?"

Yabusame gestured down, barely avoiding multiple pellets to the head. "I dunno! I tried to warp us into the city but it's been a while since I've done it with multiple people, so I accidentally dropped you two! Dunno who she is! She smells oily though."

Somehow she could parse the part that worried her the most.

"I-Is Izuna okay?"

Their other arm stretched out. The process was actually cool to look at, even in her enraged state. Expanding from an unknown horizon point was a square that she couldn't tell if it were near or far, what its dimensions were, what the colors inside were apart from describing them as 'negative', and even that was an approximation. It certainly got larger until it had encompassed the entirety of Yabusame's arm, at which point its edges started sanding down. More clearly, as if it were a paper which had a child cutting away large segments with scissors, a silhouette slowly came to shape. In the same way the borders became murky when she realized there was a physical thing there, the colors became comprehensible, and then Izuna was there too.

"Bwuh?" the girl asked.

"How are you doing, ninja-chan?"

She looked around, equally as bewildered as Ichika had been. "Um, sensei, the people there instantly knew that you had sent me and I don't think they're very happy. They're saying—"

Then she disappeared without the whole ceremony. Yabusame tsked.

"It's kind of hard keeping up a spellcard and staying here and teleporting people around. Good thing Tsuba isn't here or they'd make fun of me."

"Wait, so you're saying—"

Her feet were solidly on the metal shoulder of the robot. Toki slowly looked up to her.

"—that you're going to…"

Ichika trailed off and looked at her assailant. An idea. Her gun raised and a single bullet pinged off Toki's forehead.

"...keep—"

Once again she was in Yabusame's arms right when her voice rose.

"—teleporting me! Keep doing it! And send Izuna to where I am!"

Yabusame's dopey smile wasn't taking their fight seriously at all. "Okay!"

From Toki's perspective, it became an incomprehensible mess as the fight randomly turned. The girl who'd previously been chased across several streets suddenly had an advantage with her borderline magical (because everything could be explained with enough equations) teleportation. From every angle there was the angel of death appearing and disappearing with a capriciousness that couldn't be calculated. At times she'd have a running start and cross entire swathes of the road while firing as if already locked on. Other moments she'd already be kneeled down. Every single warp seemed to bring her opponent to an advantageous position that exploited a new blind spot. Those which didn't, bringing the winged girl into a spot where Toki at the best times should've been prepared for (her arm, on a phone booth, right underneath her legs) didn't matter when she was being trained at the hardest whack-a-mole where her opponent could literally be anywhere. Windows shattered as bullets would pop out from vantage points, glares from rooftops would give her a second's warning before lead would scratch against the suit.

The barrels revved. As long as one arm was reloading while the other fired, it would be fine. The barrels swung around, details getting lost beneath the clouds of dust kicked up by hundreds of bullets getting fired per minute. When a screen beeped that her arm was losing ammunition, the other came up to replace the barrage.

A foot was the thing that she'd seen first. Her eyes, wide in horror, comprehended it down to the specific ridges of the soles, right as it clamped down on her face. Ichika leapt, flipping downwards and letting her rifle sing straight into Toki's head. An entire magazine's worth of fire made the girl's world start spinning, her mech ungainly trying to keep its balance as it started staggering around. Hunkering made her at least keep still, and a supremely easy target when the angel appeared in front of her. With a wink, Ichika fired another bullet into Toki's midsection before disappearing again. Just when she was going to exclaim in frustration, there was another stream that joined in. Two angles were covered: two intruders, both teleporting, one fully using the teleportation by making it so that her laughably pathetic reactions couldn't keep up with her bounding form.

It was too much. Whatever strategy the intruders had brought down upon her was wearing down the mech at speeds out of every calculation that she'd gone over with Rio: her own skill wasn't enough.

"Rio! I need the power diverted if I'm to defeat the intruders!" Toki yelled. Trying another strategy, she leapt backwards, keeping the momentum by little bunny hops until she was able to turn the gigantic suit around. Running with the whole system's might left a series of craters behind her, whole building's worth of distance made with each stride. It wasn't enough—bullets were still raining down from unexpected angles. Putting her arms up to shield herself wasn't enough—bullets would slip between unexpected crannies as her opponent would reappear in an entirely different place. She was running from two conventional rifles. "Rio! I cannot carry out your orders without full power!"

Her intercom system crackled to life almost reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Toki. It was because of my miscalculations that you'd gotten injured this badly. The whole of Eridu's power is being redirected towards you."

Her arm moved by itself. The bullet that would've smacked into her ear pinged off the machine's chassis.

"Thank you, Rio. Leave this to me!"

Though the declaration was passionate, she didn't have an initial strategy to approach. Every teleport at a niche angle was calculated with the machine's algorithm, tailor-made to take on the strongest opponents that'd threaten Kivotos. Massive amounts of power were working so that even the smallest dot would have her react with returning fire. No matter how fast it was however, there was no method for beating back a wily foe, especially since Ichika had started teleporting further and further away when she realized something was wrong.

Toki's jaw set as another round of bullets splattered against empty space. Quick jerks brought her to elegantly guard and fire wherever appropriate. No matter the suit's 360 capabilities, it couldn't quite land a hit when each assailant was barely present for longer than a second. In a fit of frustration she overrode the controls to spray wildly, only to get rewarded by her arm forcibly correcting to cover her midsection. She grunted, frustrated that she was practically a non-actor. The suit was the one doing the work. It would wait, and theoretically punish the mistake which wasn't being made. Even the whole power of Eridu couldn't catch the teleportation.

She didn't even see it, as a final snub to herself. Maximizing its potential, the suit snatched the person who brazenly tried getting around its security protocol. It was the one that she hadn't seen before, little ears pressed against her scalp as the metal hand whipped her around. With the second long window, Toki was intending to throw her against the ground. That was all they had time for. With a yell she yanked down on the controls, pushing ahead with the whole of her weight. She could nearly feel something cathartic as the squeeze became tighter, PSI exerted on her HUD becoming larger until a satisfying red started emitting from it.

Then she wasn't there. There wasn't anything in her hand. She was locked in the position of a pitcher, trapped in a dark room. There was a person below her with long black hair, staring up balefully with eyes red as blood. She blinked. She turned around, around, vision enhancement system unable to pierce through the darkness that surrounded the little platform she'd found herself—thus bringing to question what could possibly defeat a combination of night vision, heat vision, and many other types of visions brought together by AI. A little lonely dot occasionally sending out circles confirmed that she'd lost connection with Eridu. 'Agility Enhancement Offline' read an unknowingly ominous line.

She slowly looked up. Ichika was cruelly smirking. Izuna waved. Yabusame would've done something too if their arms weren't full. The lasers on her back started glowing as her own greeting, before the sound of something shattering came to notice.

There were shards of black covering her foot. Raising up had them shower down onto the ground, perfectly keeping each of their destroyed form.

Strangely enough, she recognized that it was brighter than when she initially entered. Looking up again showed a square light peeking down on her. It was unknowable. She'd seen fluorescent lights and warm lights and neon lights; none of them captured the piece of reality that glared down on her suit. It felt like she was pinned down, unable to move underneath the presence that asserted something was wrong. She was unable to move when there was a wavering at its border that caught her again, seemingly reacting to her tiny attempts to adjust. It became more violent until the second black square came loose and shattered against the ground.

From there, warnings started popping up as the wavering seemed to spread. A gigantic wave crashed against the room as hundreds of the squares broke free. A white comet streaked across the blackness, prying free hundreds of the squares, until her vision was overcome. She heard a scream next to her as she blacked out.

---

Confused Resolution "Logic Shuffle"

---

Rio jumped as the ceiling collapsed. Sparkling electronics and normal debris mixed together in a tangled mess on the ground alongside the meatballs of metal and bodies that were in various states of defeat. There in the center was her unconscious bodyguard whose torso was being used as a stool by one of the intruders. On the weapon's shoulder, crouched with her kunai already in hand, was another intruder. Floating down slowly was the last of them, hands spread out as they gently touched down on the ground. Their head twirled around for a bit before finally finding their target.

"Shadowy Leader-chan! You've been a real naughty girl!" Yabusame snapped their fingers. "The paper, Izu-chan!"

With a flourish it was wrenched free, the pen replacing the kunai as her weapon of choice. There was an amused gleam in her eyes that implied she wasn't nearly as senseless to realize there wasn't humor in that scenario.

"Nin nin! Paperwork jutsu go! We'd appreciate your cooperation with resolving the incident. What's your name and occupation?"

Rio's eyelids lowered. She really wanted to refuse. She really did. Refusing would simply make her a poor sport and make Schale less inclined to act with mercy. When her bodyguard was still being used as a seat, she really had no choice but to comply with their demands.

"Tsukatsuki Rio. President of Millennium."

It took her a while to comprehend that, but Ichika started staring out the window as the full revelation of what they'd done started to dawn on her.

"Okay! Did not see that twist coming!" Izuna meanwhile wrote down the information, making sure that she was getting stable lines by using the mech's chassis. "Did you cause this incident? We're referring to the shutdown of the Game Development Department, as clarification."

"...tangibly. I did sign off on the motion when it arrived at my desk. Understand that my position is peripheral however, and it would be considered Seminar's work to dismantle clubs that are a threat to our internal stability."

Izuna tapped the pencil on her head, looking to her teammates for help. "So do I sign yes or no?"

"The judge is implicated in the execution too!" Yabusame said.

The paper was signed 'yes'.

"Next, um, is this your home?" Izuna asked, pointing the pen around.

"One of my homes, you could say," Rio said.

"What's the address?"

"0001 Temple St., Eridu," Rio said.

"So honest…" Ichika said.

Izuna jotted that down with a satisfied hum. "Alright! Will you cooperate with resolving the incident?"

Rio took this as her last chance. Passionately, a hand on her chest, she yelled, "please listen to me! Everything that I've done here was for the protection of those that I could protect! I knew that the princess would awaken for a while now, thanks to a warning from another person, and adjusted everything around this. All I need is a single robot: that 'girl' that the Game Development Department found isn't actually a student, but a robot, the princess, who'll wreak havoc on Kivotos when the time comes! You must listen to me! Unless we do something about it, there'll be armies of robots coming to gather their princess, and if she actually fully awakens, she'll command them to lay waste to those that she can! Only through destroying her can we…"

There was another person that she hadn't seen in the pile until the lowering sun had hit her body just right. It was the spitting image of the photos that she'd seen. It was only through a single, massive detail that made her second guess herself, cutting off the rant, as the dread that came when you were being watched washed over her.

Slowly turning around felt like fighting back against her own instincts. Her head was airy when she finally came upon the singular monitor that had been left on. The same black-haired girl was still fighting back in Millennium alongside the people that had initially freed her. Looking back and forth between the person on screen and the unconscious stranger shook her around like a cocktail mixer.

Nothing went to her calculations because she'd never been given the whole integer table. She was working with numbers when she was supposed to be working with letters. Thinking of where it all went wrong couldn't even have been solely blamed on Sensei because she knew that if she was this confused, then it was because she never knew what was happening in the first place.

She raised her hands.

"Yes, I'll cooperate with resolving the incident."

---

The Sake-Colored View That Buries the Worry

---

The table was noisy as the titular character stood up, clearing her throat as her fork violently beat against her glass.

"Attention! Attention everybody! Attention! I said attention! Hey!" She was one more 'attention' from splitting the ceiling with her rifle when it actually quieted down. "So we didn't win the awards. So what!? Despite that we've managed to create a gaming storm that'll envelop the whole of Kivotos and put our names out on the map, so that our further projects will only add to that fire, and way more importantly have saved the club! We're the best and greatest and most creative developers, but we couldn't have been the greatest developers who are still standing without the help of everybody here! So thank you, thank you every single one of you!"

Clapping came from the whole table, besides the most obvious members who didn't need to be explained.

"I really want to give bunches of thanks to those who really helped. First of all: huge bunches of thanks to Schale, who gave us the opportunity and members to pull our club up and make this game possible in the first place. You're the absolute bestest, Yabusame, Ichika, and Izuna, and I no longer feel bad that we nearly lost at video games against you three! And thanks for being the ones to host this event! And thanks for—I don't even know! Thank you, thank you!"

Clapping more enthusiastic than she received nearly made Momoi jealous. The mentioned three gave a nervous laugh, soaked up the attention, and was still drinking down the provided sake instead of paying attention, depending on which member you talked about.

"Next, thank you to the new members weren't coerced into joining our club. Without you, our game wouldn't have become a genre-shattering masterpiece that it is, and definitely wouldn't have been done in time for the competition. Thank you Maki, Kotori, and Aris!"

More clapping came for the equally enthusiastic members who had done much of the grunt work. Maki was a firecracker like no other, both having the durability to sleep 3 hours for multiple days in a row and the character to color the game with little niches that the club didn't have previously; many obscure easter eggs, jokes, and visuals had quickly endeared players, and gave it staying power past Momoi's (quite objectively) mediocre story writing. Kotori herself bolstered the game's code into making it a modern marvel of what old hardware could handle. Classes were dedicated towards her work to show how programming and engineering went hand in hand, and the many tricks that she'd done to save space and optimize processes.

Their final member kind of did something.

"Thank you to the C&C for walking us through all of those really annoying processes, though next time I'd prefer if they shot at Seminar instead."

"We're not going to shoot at Seminar, kid, especially for such a small reason," their leader grumbled. Very quickly her face twisted into a demon's expression. "Hey! Where's our applause!?"

A bunch of hands applauding barely worked to abate her anger since many were very obviously intimidated into doing it.

"And finally, thanks for giving us a bit of leeway, treasurer."

Yuuka's hands smashed against the table. "Y-You could at least pretend to be grateful! I'm the one who didn't immediately shut down your club after the invasion! I'm the one who argued for it! I bent the rules because everything turned out fine! Not Noa! Not anyone else on Seminar! Not even Schale intervened! You're just spreading slander for the fun of it and I won't stand for it! I won't! I can't get your club shut down in good conscience anymore but you're going to be on a short leash from now on!"

Nobody was taking her seriously, instead laughing or ignoring the tantrum that was happening.

The tables of varying heights were all squished together in the center of the room, those usual props that were of daily life getting shoved aside in favor of clearing more space for the people to spread out and eat. Catering came from a club that Shion was personally connected with, a catgirl who gladly handed out the portions that she'd carted along from her kitchen. Giant pots became cleared out as the appetizers were scarfed down like meals themselves by the more graceless people. Stranger dishes abounded, personal curation, which wasn't monopolized by Schale themselves; Momoi had the guilty pleasure of asking for professionally prepared instant ramen, various 'foods that don't crumble or stain' being gently delivered into the cardboard box that was meekly sat between Midori and Yuzu, oridigui served because both Karen and the maid's leader liked it, a soda mixed drink (said 'mixed' referring to within it being another soda, juices, simple syrup, and cream) for Noa, and beondegi that was hidden by a bed of rice so Hibiki could eat without being made fun of. Of course Tsubakura was still getting disgusted looks for their ink-laden ramen, Yabusame for devouring oridigui of creatures that the others wouldn't touch, and Shion for gladly stealing portions from both.

Hidden amongst the sprawl were tiny cups lowered down so that they could nearly be mistaken as plates. They were lacquered wood, obvious amongst a skyline of brass, porcelain, and ceramic. Initially the students had pushed these as far away as possible out of fear. As the meal went on and plates were taken away, the cups remained. Sparser and sparser, until there were people who simply had the cups in front of them. The clear liquid inside would tremble but never overturn over the lip. Students swore that their doubles were enticingly giving them a 'come hither' with their fingers, seductive eyes waiting beneath the liquid's shimmering edge. Fingers started nervously creeping up against them. Those brave enough to directly stare seemed to feel as though fire filled their airways. A roar pounded in their ears. Someone, something, was grabbing their wrists and slowly guiding them towards the dark path.

Izuna blinked. The saucer was in her hand. People were looking, judging. She looked down at the shimmering image of herself.

With a shrug, she took a sip and nearly threw up.

"Blegh! What is this stuff!? How do you drink this, sensei-dono!?"

Noa slammed back half the drink. Yuuka nearly fell out of her chair in surprise.

"Noa-chan!"

Noa smacked her lips, trying to keep her expression stolid, as the maids' leader took a sip of her own and gagged.

The whole table slowly started adding onto it. Some liked it. Others didn't. Most drank because others were drinking, slowly adding to the riotous atmosphere. Very few managed to keep their calm, coincidentally most being centered around the end of the table. Kikyou was the only one to manage a straight face because it wasn't the first time that she'd drank—not that anyone needed to know that considering all her neighbors were bonding over how bad it tasted.

After the boundaries were loosened by the communal gagging, the table became more active. At one end was the Gaming Development Department trying their best to convince the maids to join their club. Yuzu had left her box to introduce Aris to Kikyou and Utaha. Veritas were laughing over jokes that Izuna was doling out, with another maid starting to excitedly add in her own. Yuuka was rolling her eyes at Hibiki's excuses for why her recent project exploded, further getting annoyed when Yabusame came in to defend her. Eventually the chef sat down, getting compliments from Shion, Maki and Noa that started making her eyes swirl.

There was only one part of the table that wasn't too caught up in the excitement.

"Have you finally read the after-action report, Tsubakura-sensei?" Ichika asked. Hiding her grimace behind the cup made her feel more adult.

"They read my summarized version. I wouldn't inflict Yabusame-sensei and Kuda-san's reports on people unless I got mad at them," Ui groused. "You pretty much were the only one who wrote legibly and substantially, though the other two reports had little nuggets of comprehension that filled out your own."

"So, you have." Ichika looked down for a moment, shaking her head. "I don't mean to be a pest, but what happened that day?"

"Aren't you the one who experienced it?" Ui asked.

She got an annoyed, slanted eyebrow in response. "If you read my report, then you'd know that I was practically dragged from one end of the campus to the other. Though I was there, I couldn't tell you much about what we experienced. I know that I threatened the president of Millennium."

Tsubakura peeked at her from above their cup, letting nothing be betrayed past their eyes: they knew she hated the taste. They were waiting for her to finally give up. "Usually I wouldn't have anything to say to you. However, when I read the summary, it was interesting enough that I did a little bit of an after action investigation."

"And you didn't write it down as usual," Ui said, annoyed.

"You'll be my personal biographer then~," Tsubakura said, getting another annoyed glare from the girl. "There's no great way to break this down other than following the incident itself: you three arrive at the school because the Game Development Department thinks that they can use Schale to extend their club life, mostly through acquiring bodyguards so they can venture into restricted territory that holds the G.BIBLE; apparently some kind of ancient writing where the ancients mundanely thought themselves as geniuses towards designing games. Of course, Yabusame was better suited towards ignoring that kind of request and started rampaging."

"This is where I start getting confused," Ichika confessed.

"Then let's break it down into four plotlines: the Game Development Department, the school's reaction, the president herself, and yourselves. The Game Development Department reached their destination but found that it was locked. Somebody helps them out of the goodness of their heart and the passcode of their Millennium log-in. They find Aris inside, who doesn't remember anything when she wakes up, and decide that she's their newest member, not knowing that Yabusame had already recruited people at this time. Walking back has them confront the maids before they've even declared that they were intending to add Aris to their roster. Asking around and directly asking the maids has confirmed that the maids were given this order through a text from the president, and I've otherwise indirectly confirmed that most believe this to be what happened—though I have my doubts."

"Why? I thought that the whole reason this happened was that the president wanted Aris. From what I read, it sounded as if that was a justification to make the maids steal Aris, with them realizing that it was for a sinister purpose way too late. I bet that Toki was prepared for intruders so that she could steal Aris if they put up a fight," Ui said.

"It sounds like it, but I've talked with other interested parties and they say that it's unlikely for the president to have known that's what the club was intending to do; she apparently is paranoid to a fault, which worked against her in this instance since there wasn't much internal security inside the places she suspected the 'princess', in her words, was sleeping. She preferred heavily patrolling the surroundings. Therefore, it's unlikely she had a feed that was recording the club's words. This leaves us with two options: the person who asked for the passcode had either tipped off Rio or intercepted the message to send out their own, or there was a third party."

Ichika's eyebrows were rising higher and higher. "I'm sorry, what? Why would they do that? This third party or this person?"

"If they're who I'm suspecting, then they're whimsical like that. If it's a third party then I have no idea," Tsubakura said, deadpan. "Let's go back to the school's reaction: Seminar immediately attempts to curtail Yabusame, only to find out that their elite agents are already moving. From the maids themselves, they say everyone involved was given a message to find Aris, except the two pairs were given two entirely different goals: one had the exact location whereas the others were given coordinates to Eridu."

"The city that the president had built!?" Ichika exclaimed.

"That one exactly. They're sent over there and just happen to trigger the defensive systems as they're snooping around the time that you were caught, Ichika. The first group of maids are overwhelmed, by a combination of the Gaming Development Department and the pair of girls that I genuinely don't know the identity of, for long enough that communications came back online. When the confusion started being spread, they worked together to fight off the squads of enforcers that themselves were attacking because they were confused. Afterwards the unknown pair slinked away while the maids talked. Momoi said that she won them over with her vigor." Tsubakura shook their head, remembering the headache it was coordinating this part. "Talking with Veritas' ex-leader near-convinced me that she was involved in some sort of foul play because of how evasive she was being, but her main point was still most likely true: there was sabotage in favor of Schale. I have a feeling that Eridu's own defenses were being sabotaged too, as from a cursory investigation revealed that there should've been enough defenses to have shot all of you down without Yabusame's help. Since you managed to live, I think they were subverted."

Ichika's head was spinning and she wasn't sure if that was from the story or the alcohol. "O-Okay. So there's at least two people sabotaging Seminar and Rio, maybe even a third one, and we're not sure of their motives exactly. That doesn't make sense."

"Then it'll please you to know that when communications were up, they realized that some thief part of a big criminal group had ransacked their art department, further complicating the picture. Simply put, unless every person comes to fess up, we're not going to know who did what during that time." With a deep sip from their sake, Tsubakura felt hydrated enough to continue. "Alright, so then we have the president herself. I can only construct it based off second-hand evidence since she's gone into hiding, but we have the important details handy: somebody had tipped her off about Aris. According to Veritas' ex-leader, it might've coincided back when Rio was acting shifty around the time that we formed Schale. Rio uses another incident as a cover to embezzle funds to build Eridu and starts leaping between her safehouses much more frequently. Originally her plan must've been to steal Aris away with the maids, with the defenses being raised in anticipation for some sort of blowback—we may never know since she didn't tell the full plan to the annoyance."

Said annoyance, standing behind them, didn't react.

"Are you implying that we'll never see the president again?" Ui asked.

Tsubakura grimaced as a suffering sound slipped out.

"No, I'll definitely drag her out of hiding, same as Clause. They're troublesome people who'll make more work down the line if we let them continue as they are." Shaking their head, Tsubakura continued, "so then we have where you three come in: you smash through the campus and eventually interrupt the maids. That gives them enough time—or it was intentionally planned around you leaving—to get flooded with new orders when the block on communications is risen and in the confusion befriend the scamps from the Game Development Department. You unfortunately confirm that Clause had somehow been carried along with us and then Yabusame gets you two into Eridu. Then—"

"No," Ichika interrupted.

Tsubakura didn't look any different than normal for the layman, though an experienced viewer may notice the corners of their lips clenching slightly—amusement.

"No?"

"No."

"Sensei, you've got to provide a little more info than that. Please keep it down for us non-magically inclined students over here," Ui said drolly.

"Then we'll slow down for the magically illiterate," they emphasized, getting two scowls this time, "where I explain that Clause created a barrier around the whole of Eridu intending to ward off people who walked too near, probably simply a strong force of gravity that pushes away anything that gets near since they're not very competent. Most likely Clause was wandering around, homeless, until Rio took them in out of pity—though this is mere speculation because Veritas' ex-leader didn't know about Clause, and is more me hoping that what happened back in Mugenri happened here again."

"That's mean, Sensei," Ui said.

Ichika kept her mouth shut. She genuinely, hoped above hope that was the case, hoped above hope they were kicked out and wandering around right at that moment.

"Whatever. Anyways, Clause is hired by Rio and maintains the barrier until Yabusame flips dimensions and allows you two through. Unfortunately, they genuinely haven't done—"

"So we're pretending that flipping dimensions is normal?" Ui asked.

"—that in a very long time, so it makes sense that they made a mistake—"

"Guess we are," Ichika said.

"—by sending Izuna over near the Dragonfly Castle—"

"Not going to get an explanation for what a Dragonfly Castle is either, are we?"

"—and sending Ichika straight into the city, where their defenses are waiting."

"I am the defenses," Toki said. She raised two peace signs.

Tsubakura didn't look over their shoulder at Schale's newest addon, already getting annoyed by the hovering.

"From what I understand, this thing is what Rio was so scared of. They were laying dormant inside of the girl's mind, waiting to awaken and do the apocalypse doohickey. Yabusame beat her, I made her a collar, and everything is okay now."

"So that's why she's…"

They looked over to where the second girl was standing, merely watching her counterpart. Every so often blue eyes would glance back at red, nearly letting an embarrassing squeak out as the unflinching stare (not negative, not positive, merely morose from her goal not being completed) that had been centered on her opposite the whole party, beyond the party. During sleepless nights she'd roll over and stare through the wall, feeling as though she had her counterpart directly in her vision during those times. A finger worked beneath her necklace that she couldn't take off. It smelled like a calzone. She learned that she doesn't like calzones. Hero's Foil, Key, without a gun at that point.

"Why are we pretending that this makes sense?" Ui asked. "She's here! Yabusame-sensei pulled some 1s and 0s out from Aris' head!"

Tsubakura nodded along. "Yep."

"And now she exists and apparently with that necklace, everything is all right!"

"Mm hm."

Ui smacked her forehead. "What the hell am I going to write on the report!?"

"The truth, if you want."

They descended into bickering, Toki joining in with her deadpan remarks that could've been mistaken as humor. The senseis were casually lounging around while the students were celebrating. Izuna herself was bragging about the shots that she'd dodged while in the other world, without even knowing that the place she'd been placed was named the 'Dragonfly Castle'. She watched, disquieted, as the rest of the sake was drunk by the chef who immediately fell backwards and knocked herself out. Nothing felt finished. Though she knew more about the incident than she had in the middle of it, nearly a month later and they still weren't sure about essential details such as who and why. There were no guarantees when she'd asked Yuuka and Noa about the individual crimes ever getting solved, nor was there an answer for who kicked off the incident by making Rio more paranoid.

Far as she saw it, too many questions were unanswered to say they accomplished much. And Ichika wondered, no matter the miraculous powers of the Schale, if everything would turn out alright if they continued solving problems like this.

Her worries sank as her drink disappeared until she'd forgotten that there were any worries at all.

Chapter Text

---

Ghost Child "Nameless Priests of Yore"

---

The phone only went past a single ring. That's the power of a ninja's reflexes.

"Nin nin! Schale front desk answering!"

"Izuna. Is everyone there?"

"Everyone that you haven't taken already," Izuna said.

That actually meant quite a lot of people. The room consequently was much more bustling than it had been during any other time of Schale's lifespan. The senseis themselves were playing a boardgame with Key and Maki; Ichika and Toki doing the actual paperwork that had started flooding into the office since they've taken a more proactive stance. The call was getting more attention as Izuna's grunts escalated until she was clearly begging for an explanation with everything except her voice.

Tsubakura capped it off by clicking shut the line. Maki started rubbing her palms together, already assuming what was happening. It ended up being the meek ninja who stood up first.

"E-Everyone's meant to go to Trinity as soon as possible. Our schedules are cleared for the next three days. Um, yeah. It sounds a little serious."

"More serious than Millennium?" Ichika asked dolefully.

She was somewhat annoyed that she would have to back away from the paperwork since she hadn't figured out an organization system yet. People would think that it's the equivalent of putting a bookmark in place without having an idea of Schale's operations. Because of so many people coming in and out from the offices—along with said offices being made of a few desks in a tiny room—nothing is definitively one person's, meaning that it's up to the next person on paperwork duty to discern the organization of the previous person. Attempts to centralize their organizational system ran aground with figures such as Maki and Izuna not taking much effort to remember them, then Ichika and Kikyou had trouble mixing together the specifics of their systems at home with the one at Schale, with Ui and Key getting fed up of the system being broken enough where they had a desk clearly labeled with their names and select paperwork shielded from the others. Eventually those name plates were thrown off.

Ichika was looking mournfully towards her piles that were respectfully divided amongst the different subjects and urgency that'd be gone like a castle built next to the ocean.

"Mm, I've heard Tsuba talk about it when they've come back here! It's a little, they said, in tree!" Yabusame said.

"In tree, in tree" Ichika repeated under her breath, trying to find the word. "In tree, in-tree, intree, entry, intry, entry, intrigue? Intrigue!"

"You're doing good on your Yabusame-isms, Ichi-chan!" Izuna said.

"Let's gooo, you two. Waiting around is making me sleepy," Yabusame said.

"You could try speaking normally so that people can more ably follow your orders, Yabusame-sensei." Ichika barely looked behind her. "Come along, Key."

The girl didn't respond. Everything that she did had the movements of an automaton—replicable, efficient. The pistol that found itself as her best friend was strapped to her side for the same reason, along with the huge problem of giving the would-be mass murderer anything that could slice through swathes of people. But it's Kivotos, so she needs it's a gun, but mass murderer, but Kivotos—eventually Tsubakura stepped in to give her a literal dart gun. Very, very painful, and only lethal if she turns into a crack shot somewhere down the line.

The final person who clearly didn't know what to do was left with an entire room for themselves.

Izuna chucked her head back inside.

"Shiiiion-sensei! You were asked to come too, and bring those people you know!"

Shion took a second to process that. The grin that spread across their face was hideous.

---

Violence Suppressor "Embody Law"

---

The situation room was another of the many conference rooms that were part of the campus. It eerily had the look of a genuine place where generals met despite generally being for the gatherings of multiple clubs that would discuss topics such as the interdisciplinary worth of a philosophical take on the construction of railroads, or filtering the greatest works of horror literature through the lens of the original works that the academy was based upon, or discussing what the favorite teas of their original leaders would've been once upon a time. Instead of fun musings and laughter was a room full of people who looked like they could hardly take themselves seriously. How couldn't they though? They were seated on a collection of long tables that created a U-shape, with equally long windows at both sides of the room that gave an unusually broad view of the campus thanks to the building being much two stories higher than the rest in the general area. In the center of the tables was a small table that had a projector eagerly waiting to be used. Far in the back corner was Ui, reading a book instead of paying attention to the chatter that was happening with the fifteen or so gathered students, waiting for the stars of the show to arrive.

Finally the door (gigantic, about ten Tsubakura's high) opened up to reveal the trio. Light shined dramatically behind them as the group lazily took their positions—Shion taking one end, Yabusame taking the other, and most of Tsubakura's own faction sitting at the enclosed end of their circle. Tsubakura themself remained standing, letting out a sigh that was lost beneath the milieu of gossip. A weary eye glanced outside where the sun had long lost prevalence in a fiery orange sky, at the tips of the buildings with various architectural styles yet all in agreeance that it had to be something momentous. Even the sheds couldn't last long without some flair that reminded the students at this campus that they're part of an ere-long tradition.

Of course, some things had to change. Surely the gym outfits nor allowance of slightly higher-cut skirts than the previous decade were what their forebearers wore. None of those in attendance cared much about the past or the style either. When the light was flicked off, they generally settled down until about two thirds those in attendance were finally giving serious stares to the screen that was yanked down, Tsubakura flying up to grab its handle. With a nod Ui flicked on the presentation that she'd made.

The last of the noise settled down. With the details lost, the situation room finally stopped being such an exaggeration. Tsubakura's hat cast a strange shadow at the corner of the screen, which they didn't bother to move around. Presented was a normal overhead map of the campus: everything revolved around the three squares where most of the classes took place, with water like moats surrounding each of them. The most important was circled with a red marker.

"Alright. I don't think we need introductions and I'm not gonna waste time on 'em. This tone is a little different than you're expecting of me, so we're going to cover that first."

A gesture brought the slide to a new frame: 'Why Tsubakura isn't nearly as grumpy :(.' The flat look directed at Ui just got a slight smirk in response.

"For those who didn't notice, I was taken off campus to deal with a situation here in Trinity—one that we'll cover in more detail. You're prolly wonderin' why I've bothered taking this whole deal seriously, so s'gonna go over it a li'l bit: I've learned. The previous job we had led to some whole war game shenanigan—I'm not getting into that. Slacking off is a good thing until it blows up into something that creates far more work than is necessary. This is nipping the problem at the bud." Their voice turned insanely monotone. "Some cretins may find it easy to point out that's true with most things and that I should learn my lesson. Since you're students who don't have fully developed brains yet, let me simplify it for you: imagine you have homework that's going to take a day. To do the least amount of work possible, you want to complete it whenever you have time. Completing it within the very last day makes you feel rushed and creates more work 'cause you're doing mistakes; turning it in late gives you extra work to make up for it. Not everything creates more work when you put it off. This is different."

The slide changed to the overhead view again, where multiple students had portraits with names written underneath them. A girl who exuded grace: Kirifuji Nagisa. A girl who stuck her tongue out for the camera: Misono Mika. A girl who impassively stared straight towards whoever was taking the picture: Yurizono Seia.

"For those who've recently suffered a concussion and lost their memories, Trinity is one of the biggest schools in Kivotos and is in a constant rivalry with Gehenna. For those who aren't privy to their internal politics because they're kinda boring and nonsensical: sometime long ago there were three different schools that joined together with a treaty to become the one we know of today, which is carried along through tradition by their lead organization, the Tea Party, consisting of representatives from each faction. These three are the current leaders. On the next slide," the screen shifted so more portraits replaced those, "are more important leaders of the school. The Sisterhood has remained disconnected from the general politics—and don't let Ui tell you otherwise—and Tsurugi has the other half of the school carried on her back through sheer firepower, alongside allegedly Mika. Memorize all these faces."

The slide changed towards a comprehensive view of the faces bunched together with other known members of their clubs. Some started mumbling as they recognized some students in Schale amongst the crowd. Utazumi Sakurako, a habit that framed her serene face. Tsurugi was caught mid-fight, with the glow of an explosion resounding across her mouth stretched like a hyena's.

"Alright, now it's time for a story that's gonna be told byyyy," Tsubakura stretched their hands out towards Kikyou, "her, because I don't wanna talk that much."

"And because you abdicated a good amount of your responsibilities, Sensei, so you're not nearly as caught up as you should be," she sourly noted as she walked to the center stage. Everything about her spoke of the experience with this kind of environment: sharp posture, imperious bearing of a general, who kept her rifle neatly held in shoulder arm position. "I believe that I've had the pleasure to work with all of you already, even if only as secretaries-in-arms, so I'll keep my introduction clipped too. Two weeks ago, there was a letter sent to Schale by the Tea Party that requested the presence of Shion-sensei to teach a group of failed kids, hereinafter referred to as the Make-Up Work Club. The specific request immediately drew alarm bells: what we initially predicted, which turned out to be correct, is that they didn't want Tsubakura-sensei specifically and knew that asking for Yabusame-sensei would be too suspicious. Asking for the yet unseen third sensei of Schale was done so under the belief that they were not nearly as," she paused, clearly searching for a word, "competent as Tsubakura-sensei for blowing through plots."

"Why thank you~," Tsubakura said.

She ignored them. "We suspected them for this and many more reasons. For the sake of saving time, the details will be compressed; if you truly have a burning curiosity, then ask Tsubakura-sensei, me, or Ui-san for further explanation. The following summary has been through multiple sources that we have summarized for convenience's sake. Some of you may know that there will be a historic treaty between Trinity and Gehenna taking place tomorrow. The Make-Up Work Club was created as a ploy by Kirifuji-san because she suspects that there's a traitor on campus, seeking to undermine the treaty, where the greatest suspects were forced in a single club whose existence hinges on Sensei continuing to play ball. In everything except name, these questionably innocent students are hostages. Further complicating this is that her fellow member Yurizono-san had her halo shattered relatively recently by unknown assailants."

The group went to a standstill as she let the revelation sink in. Kikyou had run aground of sympathy over the weeks that they'd been working on it, but let the more sympathetic students go through their own personal grief. Her voice kept strong through the clear worry rippling through the crowd.

"We've been working on piecemeal solutions to stall as long as we can, but Kirifuji-san has finally outmaneuvered us; we cannot stall the club being expelled any longer. It's not as though she's wrong. Asking around the major players has them reaffirming the suspicion that there's a traitor, though discerning truth from fiction has been relatively hard."

"Which is why you brought Shion out to play!" Shion yelled.

Kikyou stepped back as Tsubakura took center stage once again, an annoyed quirk of their brow.

"Of course not. I'm not siccing a soul-eating vacuum on a bunch of relatively innocent students. I don't particularly care about the truth. Here's the thing, everyone: this treaty would pacify this part of Kivotos. Having Trinity and Gehenna work together for anything would be a long-term benefit to everyone. Anybody who's trying to sabotage the treaty must be dealt with. Simultaneously, we can't have one of the largest campuses thinking that Schale can be bent right before they're going to effectively merge with another campus. We need to break her." Tsubakura let their savage smile slip out. "That's what this war council is about. Our plan has been ratified by Ui's extensive knowledge on Trinity law. We'll prevent the Make-Up Work club from being expelled, break Nagisa's resistance against Schale rule, send a message to the rest of Kivotos, and provide security for the treaty to be signed: if a third of the campus has been occupied, then everyday operations of the school must be suspended. That includes giving out tests and clubs undergoing operations. It does not include ratifying a treaty."

Multiple voices shouted. It was Ichika's that was the loudest.

"What's stopping them from not signing the treaty!?"

"Because Nagisa wants the treaty to be signed. She's the mind behind it, alongside Gehenna's Hina if I understand it right. This is a show of force for the entirety of Kivotos: Schale is an organization that's willing to play ball within the letter of the law, and it may not entirely be for your own benefit." They let out a smirk at the dawning horror on many students' faces. "Better than us going in and blowing everything up. You see? They get to have their foibles while we get our peace."

There's a breathy sigh from Kikyou, who speaks up when she sees that Tsubakura isn't going to explain any further. "It's not an entirely unreasonable plan. Sensei has divulged many details of their previous job, including the way that their dictator ran things, and while it's vastly worse than how the ex-president had maintained order, she isn't here right now. Our theory goes that squashing the major schools will go a long way in furthering Schale's fearsome reputation by showing we're not merely extrajudicial muscle."

"Isn't this just threatening people? 'Oh, we can beat you up, but we won't if you listen to us!' That's how it sounds like," someone further in the back said.

"S'how the normal government works anyways. May as well have it work to our benefit," Tsubakura said, looking overly pleased at the arguments that started piping up. A snap of their fingers has a picture of campus pop up, divided like choice cuts of meat. "The morality of the situation aside, we're now backed in a corner anyways. If we don't do this, Nagisa manipulates the club and they're expelled, and we're seen to be the weak ones who can only get what we want when we shoot you. We've already pulled every trick that Ui can conjure up to extend the club's time and she hasn't backed down. Therefore, she has deigned herself to be Schale's enemy. Pictured on the screen are your patrol routes. We don't need to have complete control of these areas rather than to have the image of control. Any big groups, break them up. Harass random students by saying it's currently locked down under Schale authority. On its face we're taking control of this area for preparations to sign the treaty; everyone in the know will understand that we've taken control of their school. If they think that they can do something about it, teach them. Ui and Kikyou both agree that the worst we're going to face are independent trouble makers."

"Nagisa is foolishly passive most of the time, the Sisterhood most likely would save their strength for the treaty tomorrow, Mika is rather lame at politics, and everyone else probably wouldn't be motivated to directly attack Schale," Kikyou said with a sigh. "We're obviously prepared for anything though, which is why our full forces are being deployed."

Tsubakura gained a mocking smirk. "And those of you that have some moral scruples with this? We're still providing muscle for the treaty tomorrow. Conserve your strength and ammo."

"You're saying this like we're expecting trouble, Sensei," Ichika noted.

"That's 'cause we didn't make any effort finding the traitor. Look, it's not a single person. For those who haven't stepped foot on either of these campuses, they ain't the greatest neighbors to each other. They get along like two gravitational fields. The single traitor thing is pure baloney. We're dealing with a team, half the campuses, probably a few 'educated' students who think they know better, and dozens of others behind the scenes who are fudging a few results to tilt it against the treaty. Better to have them come to us rather than searching for all the rats."

"We're gonna play~!" Yabusame yelled.

"Yeah. Play." Tsubakura tapped their finger on their thigh. The faces of the various factions appeared again. "We're going into this pretty much without allies. According to Kikyou, only those in the Make-Up Work Club are sympathetic towards this. The rest aren't confident enough in the treaty to publicly support it or unsure about it. Everyone in the Make-Up Work Club can be considered allies. Everyone else are tentative enemies. Even if they claim that they're allies, assume that they'll backstab us. Shion!"

"Shion is here!"

"Go tell Hifumi and give her the news. You have my permission to give her grief however you want to do it."

Shion's smile became even more creepy.

---

Instinct "Noblesse Oblige"

---

The Tea Party is set at a long balcony, an open air place for the longest table that Shion had ever seen. Something about the scene could be described as melancholy. White marble was the motif of the whole area. Pillars and balustrades separated them from the pathways below, where students were working late into the night, and the entire campus would be continuously moving about like an ant colony until the treaty was ratified. From their position was a series of rooftops that ran along like battleships towards the cathedral that'd stand as the pivotal building for the rest of Trinity's history.

Somewhere out there, the troops were moving out.

It was a melancholy place, draped in white, stretching far enough for representatives from every academy in the whole of Kivotos to have their own seat. Yet there was only a single person keeping vigil on this lonely night, only a single person keeping the gargoyles company. There was an empty tiered server that would normally have at least a single plate of treats. Instead there was only a single pot of black tea, long gone cold. A shaky hand lifted up the delicate cup. There's history there. Thousands of pages could be made about the history behind that piece of fine china, behind its long history and symbolism that nobody could know the full breadth of. At that moment it was being used to spill droplets on her uniform's lapel.

Behind those eyes is a lot—wisdom beyond her age, vulnerability, seething hatred, dainty grace. A thousand emotions that combine together into the poise that reforms themselves past the single show of weakness that didn't escape her visitor's eyes. Putting the cup on the table prevents her slight shakes to be visible, closing her vision to the paper so she can gather herself. Everything is controllable, or at least that's what she believes. Everything that's underneath her position can be controlled with the right movements, and everything should be controlled because otherwise it's left to chaos. Sure, there were other competent people out there, but nothing is better than doing it yourself. If it's done yourself, then there's nothing to blame except yourself. She rarely tasted failure however. Tea Party Paranoiac, Kirifuji Nagisa, a completely customized Walther PP that she rarely ever brandished yet felt devilishly happy whenever she had the opportunity to show her name and position engraved on the metal.

Eventually, with a deep breath, she let the paper lay down as she glared towards the group. She offered for them to sit down. They hadn't taken it.

"Am I to understand that Trinity is currently underneath Schale's jurisdiction?"

The sensei on call was never intended to be a sensei, after deep (an hour's worth) of internal discussion (Tsubakura thinking it over while they were falling asleep). Keeping the amalgamation on a short leash was considered as the very few basic duties that they would actually do back during their previous job—that and the typical household duties so the ceiling didn't literally fall down on their heads, grocery shopping so they didn't starve, and shooing off the fairies that'd occasionally bedevil the shrine grounds. Inside of the body that was tinier than most of Kivotos' student population was a deeper consciousness than anybody could expect. Compared to the emotions broiling in Nagisa's head, there was a maelstrom that threatened to topple Trinity if they ever became bored enough to do so. They're rather young so there isn't a definite title that has stuck around long enough to be fully owned by them. That's how it was so easy to change when they felt like it. A Sensei Born From the Aggregate, Shion, various abilities that stem from their existence as a chimera.

"No! Shion would never! Your jurisdiction is your own! You can keep your tasty little sampling plate all you want! If you're willing to share those cupcakes though…?"

"Breaking bread is done with allies. Cupcakes—cakes spread out into their own little fortresses. The very nature of them is to break the rule of sharing. A selfish choice in treat."

Nagisa turned her glare towards the girl who still had an inch of height over Shion. Wine red eyes imbibe the world in the same methodical fashion as a drunk's lazy gait. The most emotion that one could elicit from her would barely make those change. It's extraordinarily hard to make her have any expressive reaction, anyways. Her hair reached a pink similar to the color of frosting, falling to the sides of her minute shoulders in an equally lush way. From the way that she stands, hands falling at her sides, head slightly lolled over like a baby's that can't keep its own weight up, feet slightly fanned outwards for none other reason than to make her posture worse, everything is meant to give her a method to keep cool no matter what situation she's in. Daytime Student, Sweetime Philosopher, Yutori Natsu, an uzi holstered on her back alongside a riot shield. It's not that she especially feels confident in her ability to defend, rather feeling that there exists an affinity between herself and a sedate combat style.

"Yutori Natsu, yes? You're the president of the After School Sweets Club. Average grades. Exactly the type of personality that'd one day find themselves in need," Nagisa retorted sharply.

"What sweet reflects a dictatorial turn, hm?" The girl swings around her gun, making a special show that puts Nagisa on edge. "Threatening people with your authority; my, I thought that was merely a Gehenna thing! Maybe this treaty really will pull through! You've already got the Gehennan politics in mind! Too many chefs crowd the kitchen though—" she makes a show of looking down the long, long, long table—"looks like you've already learned that lesson."

Nagisa's hand clenches on her lap. "This is how Schale operates? Bringing thugs and terrorists onto campuses with students that just want to live peacefully?"

There was no real retort because everything that she said was true. Natsu had partaken in food-related crime for reasons that were too high-flying for most people to understand; and, despite being on the other side of the border, there's a girl who has found her antecedent, her mirror, a person fully willing to exploit her strength towards a good meal without any reservation, who can explicate the contours of a meal without having to ascend into the metaphysical implications of the bites that she's having. It's too perfect of a relationship for either to understand how gravity hadn't provided them on a collision course before. Both of them had become friends the second that their eyes had met, the first grumbles from their stomachs as full conversations. Rotten Hunger, Kurodate Haruna, PSG1 meant to provide the true path to becoming a seasoned gourmet.

There was no real retort, and she didn't care, because being bound by things such as logic would eventually prevent her from taking the bite that would save her life—so said a fortune teller once and she hasn't looked back since.

"I think that your little pet crow is much scarier than anything I can do, miss Leader!" Haruna said.

Nagisa put everything she had in the glare back. "At least she knows how to restrain herself."

"You're just putting everything you have in insulting us 'cause you can't actually do anything." Shion said. The way that the dark glare was redirected told the group everything they needed to know. "Ah, don't be too sad about it. We've got the security done in the southern part and there's not really any school activities that need to be carried out at 1 AM. You're going to be a good girl and put everything into making sure that the treaty is fine, right?"

They could hear the grinding of her teeth, see her jaw suck inwards until she looked like she was suckling on something sour. "Yes. Yes, I'll make sure that we're prepared to sign the treaty tomorrow."

"And there's no bad feelings between you and Schale. After all, we're just doing our part of the bargain! When Tsubakura heard that you were having issues with security, they sympathized enough that they mobilized the entirety of Schale." Shion didn't need to lean down to reach eye-level. All they needed to do was crane their head forwards, making Nagisa's veins start bulging on her neck with how hard she was straining. "Right?"

This one was much too far. It took Nagisa a few seconds to compose herself until she could respond. "Right."

Shion didn't care. They started backing off, spreading their hands out and strutting. "Then we're all good! We're going to make preparations of our own. People can talk, they can traverse the campus at night—brr! What kind of villains would need to do something this early when there's such an important event tomorrow!? It'd be preeeetty dumb to just do something dumb, or even think of doing something dumb that can jeopardize alllll the hard work it took to make it here, or being really duuuumb and having some kinda vendetta that can ruin everything here! Good thing nobody is like that! You're such a smart person, Nagiga!"

There could be no response. Little bursts of air were escaping her pursed lips as though any longer and the hot hair would make her pop. Any sort of grace that she could typically carry was disheveled until all that was left in the Tea Party head's chair was a seething girl, barely able to keep herself from shooting at the dignitaries (though that word sounds wrong, too close to 'dignity' when the sleazy smile from Shion didn't carry an iota of self-dignity).

The door closed. They were in a hallway with an entire contingent of guards who nervously pawed at their rifles as Schale walked along. None of them know about the current situation on campus; anybody being near the president at such a time is enough for those watching them leave, sending quick glares, receiving smiles in response.

It's only when they were in the cool air of the outside again that two simultaneous breaths were released at once. Gone was the unflappable delicatessen and wanton epicurean; Natsu used her riot shield to keep herself aloft as her eyes swirled around, while Haruna collapsed against the side of the building while using her hat as a fan.

"Lies, lies, lies! I wonder if she can even tell the truth if she's gotta go to the bathroom or not!" Shion said, knowing what's going on behind them.

It's Haruna who managed to stutter first.

"S-Sensei," she started, breaking into breathy coughs before reigning them in, "you understand the dynamics of Schale, right? I'm Haruna! The girl who wants a good meal and slips by all the highest offices in Gehenna! That's Natsu, one of my best friends, whose applied violence is a little bit rusty since she doesn't have the demeanor to seek out fights. Right? Right? Somewhere over there is Tsubakura with the crack shots of our office, Yabusame with those girls who can use anything on hand to beat the crap out of you, and roving groups of girls made of some of the strongest people in the entirety of Kivotos."

Shion started tapping their lips. "Do you think that it's a pain to organize lunch with her? She's definitely one of those that says, 'I'm fine with that,' and then changes her mind when you say that you're definitely going there."

"Sensei!" Haruna shrieked. "Everyone knows that Mika is a member of the Tea Party too! If she was there, then they would've pulled apart our heads like…"

She vaguely made her hands into claws and yanked.

Natsu started shaking her head, wobbly legs bouncing a bit as she pulled herself up. "I just can't believe it. I've never known Nagisa personally. She's always been a firm leader. Was I…?"

Noticing how Natsu's head was hanging, Haruna sucks in her gut and walks over. The pats on the back get those eyes that drink in the whole world centered onto her. "This kind of stress spoils the palette. I'm sure that if it were any other time, then Nagisa would be a perfectly wonderful person to have snacks with. Let me tell you, during those times in prison when I wasn't sure I'd be getting out anytime soon? Yikes. No presentation, absolutely nothing to do with mouth feel. But even if I had the greatest meal in front of me, I still wouldn't have the taste for it."

Natsu's eyes closed. "Like tiramisu at midnight."

"Milk chocolate in the morning?" Haruna countered.

"Food at any time is the right time," Shion said.

Both the girls rapidly shook their heads. It was Haruna who passionately said, "you have it all wrong, Sensei! It's about timing, the timing! Confit protein would be too heavy for an amuse bouche! Individual ingredients too can spoil the meal before or after! A mild sweetness and wrong wine can completely throw off the balance between two meals!"

"Like the chosen ingredients for the best feuilles de brick, a careless eye may make the whole dish flounder," Natsu said.

"You two are impossible," Shion groused. "Aren't I supposed to be the sensei? Then let me teach you something: if you're hungry, you're hungry! Gobble 'em all up screaming!"

"Like drunken shrimp! There's a certain brackish taste that's lost when they're cooked," Haruna said.

"And weren't you both supposed to be terrified?" Shion asked, annoyed.

"The best epicurean doesn't let a new taste let her down!" Haruna brandished her weapon—very, very close to firing it in the air if they weren't at Trinity, in that situation. "Eating at a newly opened restaurant is nearly as adventurous as those bon vivants of time past discovering the tastes that'd make our modern world!"

Originally Natsu was going to continue, before recognizing that she was being a little too lax. Technically speaking, Trinity had entered into wartime governance, and their side of the war was currently deployed. With a bit of a blush, she drew her own weapons out.

"So what's exactly the plan? We're really going to stay up for the entire night and then fight tomorrow?"

"That's only if the traitor shows themselves," Haruna noted.

"...which they will," all three of them said at once, with different amounts of enthusiasm.

Natsu adjusted herself: weapon loaded, ready to fire, everything adjusted so that she didn't enter a fight unprepared to shoot (about 50% of the time).

"Are you allowed to use your magic for this, Sensei?" Natsu asked.

Shion's smile spoke of souls to be devoured, fights to be won. At 1:30 AM, to 12 PM when the treaty was going to be signed, the beast that was meant to be Schale's chained dog had their time to play.