[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 24

“Ugh, I’m late, I’m so late!”

The Sensei ran through the empty streets without a single student in sight.

It was literal tardiness. The past two days of fighting had left his body exhausted, but he hadn’t expected to wake up only after the sun was high in the sky.

Even though he’d asked Arona to set an alarm, Arona herself had overslept!

[“It was my mistake, but why didn’t you wake up even after I tried for over 15 minutes, Sensei?!”]

“What can I do about a bad hangover? I’m already physically weak as it is.”

[“That’s exactly why I told you not to drink so much on a tough night!!”]

Sensei brushed off Arona’s somewhat reasonable criticism.

He should’ve just slept in a corner classroom at Abydos’s campus. It would’ve been cold and dark, but he wouldn’t have been late.

It was like fixing the barn after the cows had already escaped—far too late now.

They’d probably have to grovel in front of the kids.

[“Even if the Countermeasures Committee students let it slide, I won’t. No drinking for a while!”]

“…Alright, I’m sorry.”

From the past few days’ experience, Sensei knew the location of Abydos’s faculty building well enough not to get lost.

He sprinted forward. As he entered the street where the faculty building stood, he caught sight of the building beyond a half-open iron gate and wall.

Just a little further, and he’d see the Countermeasures Committee students.

“—Huh?”

[“What’s wrong, Sensei?”]

Sensei’s steps, which had been gaining momentum, slowed to a halt.

From a distance, probably from the faculty building, came a sound.

It wasn’t sweet, but it was grand and beautiful.

Sharp, yet not painfully so—just pleasant enough to the ear.

It was unmistakably the sound of an instrument. And it was a song Sensei recognized.

With all his strength, Sensei dashed toward the faculty building’s main gate.

A few months ago, a mental age test had been trending at Trinity General Academy.

Watching Ritsuko-chan and Sayuri-san compare their mental ages sparked my curiosity, so I took the test on a website. I ended up staring at the two-digit result for dozens of minutes.

Forty-six years old, it said.

Anyway.

Maybe that’s why, but I’ve always liked old, historic instruments. If it were something mainstream like a violin or cello, I wouldn’t need to wax poetic like this.

Listen to that incredible volume! I’m playing in the middle of the school courtyard right now, but the sound is surely echoing beyond the school building, reaching the skyscrapers that formed the backdrop of this morning’s battle.

The bagpipes are such a fascinating instrument. They’re surprisingly easy to learn, but my friends in the Justice and Discipline Department didn’t believe me at all.

Of course, that’s probably because I played the bagpipes in their clubroom, startling a sniper who was about to take a shot and causing the entire Justice Department to storm in, thinking we were under attack.

I think it’s their fault for not wearing earplugs.

So, here I am, playing the bagpipes, letting out the stress built up from the morning’s battle.

I wouldn’t call the sound refreshing, but I can confidently say that nothing relieves pent-up tension like the crisp tone of the bagpipes—except maybe a freshly dispensed soda from a vending machine.

“Amazing grace, how sweet this sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost, but now I’m found
Once blind, but now I see”

Good weather, a good instrument, and a good song.

If we also had a truck in working condition, it would’ve been the perfect morning—well, closer to noon.

Sayuri-san and Ritsuko-chan are trying to fix the truck with parts “gifted” by those helmeted gang kids. Apparently, the gang claimed they spent their entire fortune on those parts in the black market, so hopefully it’ll work out.

I was about to go help, but Sayuri-san stopped me.

She asked how I could say that after seeing Serika-chan’s glares.

I’m well aware that ever since the morning’s battle, Serika-chan has been looking at me with intense hostility. According to Shiroko-senpai, she thinks I’m the mastermind behind some school violence incident.

Look, I know Trinity General Academy has a bad reputation—people call it “Hate City”—but I’m a student with a spotless record. I’ve never committed school violence. Well, except against the Gehenna checkpoint or those violent troublemakers.

What I do to them isn’t school violence—it’s closer to social education, okay?

Speaking of interesting people, I think the protesters’ reactions are way more fun than Gehenna’s. The first day I started using white phosphorus rounds instead of tear gas, the high-society girls’ curses were so scathing.

I thought they only knew how to sip tea, but they’d probably thrive even if they transferred to Gehenna.

I paused to catch my breath, pressing the bag with my arm to keep the sound steady.

The hymn resonated with a 122-decibel bass tone. A small voice tried to interrupt, but the bagpipes’ volume couldn’t be drowned out.

Wait—small voice?

“The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures…”

“…”

“Amazing Grace, good song, right? You like it too?”

“I do, but… I didn’t expect you to still be here.”

A man stood there, an adult man without a halo.

It was the Sensei from Schale.

— 

“…School violence?”

“I’m telling you! Sensei, you should’ve seen how she fought the helmeted gang—it’s not something anyone but a student used to violence could do! Ugh, it still gives me chills. Covered in blood and not even caring!”

“Well, when I saw her in D.U., she didn’t seem like a bad student. Could it be a misunderstanding, Serika?”

“That’s what Nonomi-senpai said too. Anyway, I don’t care if it’s Sayuri-san or Ritsuko-chan  but I’m not talking to that senpai. Never, ever!”

Serika seemed really angry. Or rather, she really disliked one particular student.

Hikari-chan, was it? She’d left a good impression by helping retake the Schale clubroom without hesitation despite being a stranger, but I never expected she’d show up at Abydos High School overnight.

As a Sensei, if Serika won’t talk to her directly, I have no choice but to mediate.

Entering a second-floor classroom, I found a white-haired student asleep, slumped over a desk. Normally, I’d cover her with a jacket and leave quietly, but since I came to talk, I had to gently shake her shoulder.

Surprisingly, she woke up instantly.

“—I wasn’t sleeping, just closing my eyes for a bit… Wait, Sensei?”

“Oh, did I wake you up by mistake?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Thanks for waking me. I must be pretty tired. But what brings you to the annex?”

“I wanted to talk with you, Hikari-chan.”

Her red eyes narrowed briefly, as if she were processing what I’d just said.

Hikari glanced at the desk, then back at me, and said:

“…Talk? Like, ‘how was lunch’ kind of casual stuff? You’d be better off chatting with the Abydos students.”

“No, not that. I think Serika-chan has a misunderstanding about you. I wanted to talk about that. Counseling is part of a Sensei’s job, after all.”

“…”

Hikari didn’t respond immediately. She straightened up, nodded, and seemed to understand the image Serika-chan had of her.

Judging by her not asking why, it seemed she knew that image included being a school violence perpetrator. What had happened to make her quietly accept such a perception?

The red-eyed girl, staring at the worn ceiling, spoke again.

“…I get it. I can tell what you mean just by looking. Shiroko-senpai told me. School violence, right?”

“Yeah, so I wanted to check. Is it a misunderstanding, or is it true?”

“Do you think if I were really a delinquent, I’d just admit it to you straight-up?”

“That’s your choice, Hikari-chan.”

I tried to keep my tone as non-confrontational as possible. Hikari-chan closed her eyes, seemingly deep in thought.

I don’t know if Hikari-chan is actually a school bully or not. But trusting students is a Sensei’s duty, isn’t it? I took the Schale Sensei role without hesitation because I trusted the kids, and I came to Abydos because I trusted Ayane-chan. I have to trust Hikari-chan too.

Whether she sensed my feelings or thought I was unnecessarily suspicious, Hikari-chan soon gave her answer.

“…It’s a misunderstanding. A really bizarre one, and I don’t even know why they believe it. You think so too, right, Sensei?”

“If you didn’t commit any crimes, then I think it’s a misunderstanding.”

“Then you’re right to think it’s a misunderstanding. Crimes? Pfft, not a single innocent person was among the ones I took down.”

I hate to think this way, but Hikari-chan sounded like a politician.

Then she let out a tch and added:

“…Probably.”

You shouldn’t say it like that. My trust in Hikari-chan dipped slightly.

Telling myself it was just her youthful innocence, I artificially boosted my trust in her again.

“So, what’s the truth? Serika-chan said you didn’t hesitate to use violence.”

“What’s there to hesitate about when smashing helmeted gang heads? You don’t show mercy to Gehenna or Pater types. They’re idiots who wouldn’t understand even if you flashed a checkpoint captain badge at them.”

“Wait. Gehenna, Pater, checkpoint captain? What’s that about?”

I know plenty about Gehenna Academy from experience, but Pater is news to me. And which academy’s checkpoint captain are we talking about, and how high-ranking is that position?

Hikari-chan looked at me with a dumbfounded expression, then slapped her forehead as if realizing something.

“Right, of course… We didn’t even properly introduce ourselves, and you probably haven’t been told anything. Fine, I’ll explain everything. You might want to sit down—it’s gonna take a while.”

“Uh… okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot to tell you. A lot.”

Hikari-chan cleared her throat repeatedly, as if she were about to perform a pansori.

It wasn’t long before I saw her speaking with the grandeur of a figure from mythology.

“…In accordance with the enduring resolutions of the General Council, Article 13, Clause 1 of the Trinity General Academy’s Academic Law states the following…”

— 

The story, which took a full 40 minutes, was incredibly useful information for someone like me who only knew D.U. and Abydos.

The long history of enmity between Trinity and Gehenna, and how both sides’ border defense forces naturally became paramilitary organizations in the process.

When I first met Hikari-chan, I thought she wasn’t an ordinary student, but I was a bit surprised to learn she was a club leader-level figure.

Then I remembered that Hoshino-san is Abydos’s vice-student council president, so a club leader rank shouldn’t be that shocking—it helped me temper my surprise.

Thankfully, Serika-chan seemed to accept Hikari-chan’s explanation that her aggressive behavior came from dealing with Gehenna students. She said she still didn’t trust her, but since they exchanged MomoTalk contacts, that’s obviously a lie.

Alright, another case resolved today. It took a few hours, but still.

I decided to sleep in the school clubroom tonight. I got scolded a bit for being late, but the moment they heard I’d be staying at the school, I was showered with praise. I’m not sure why.

Before going to bed, I stopped by the annex classroom. There was no sign of anyone despite the lights being on, so I peeked inside. Sure enough, Hikari-chan was fast asleep, slumped over a desk.

This time, there was a note on the desk.

‘Sensei, if you see this, just let me be. The desk is comfy.’

We haven’t talked much, but somehow, it felt very Hikari-like. I scribbled “Got it ^^” on the note and turned toward the classroom door.

As I crossed the threshold and began closing the slightly weathered wooden door, I quietly said to the room:

“Goodnight, Hikari-chan.”