[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 28

From a political perspective, Trinity Academy operates under a triumvirate.

One student council, one Tea Party room, and a political system represented by three student council presidents stem from the pre-unification era, where representatives of three factions met at the Tea Party to ensure lasting peace. A history nearing four digits in years serves as the guarantor of authority and legitimacy.

Let me say it again: the Tea Party is an authoritarian organization.

In terms of power, it rivals an imperial court; in terms of exclusivity, it surpasses a convent. This uniqueness creates a barrier with students outside the social elite, but that same authority enables rapid resolution of any issue.

A pyramid-like power structure and bureaucracy grant immense authority to those at the top. The three faction leaders, as student council presidents, wield near-absolute power, while the subfaction leaders below them are delegated minor authority to assist.

In simple terms, faction leaders are gods, and subfaction leaders are their apostles. The second-in-command of a faction is no empty title.

“…”

“No evidence to refute that, huh? Of course not. If you had the ability, you’d have clawed your way into the social elite by now.”

So, positions come with social responsibility.

That’s why a damn jerk like this shouldn’t be a subfaction leader.

It’s been exactly three minutes and thirty seconds. Less than four minutes since I started negotiating the budget with this insufferable human.

This checkpoint captain is about to die of frustration. From the first word, that subfaction leader threw shade with “I’m considering budget cuts,” and now she’s openly mocking me. How could I not get pissed?

Of course, her initial comment about cutting the budget—the most sacred thing in any public organization—is the main reason I’m fuming, not her current sneering attitude.

When Itsuka-senpai was in charge, she let everything pass without a peep, but now that I’m here, she’s dancing with a knife just because she finds me a bit annoying.

I shot her an incredulous look. Thinking I was mad, she flinched and stopped talking.

Scaredy-cat.

“…It’d be best not to let heated emotions spill out in a negotiation.”

“Oh, really? What did I do? Think I’m angry? I’m Hikari Yamatsu. I’ve been in this game longer than you. I know better than to lose my cool.”

“Are you mocking me right now?”

“Just stating facts.”

The subfaction leader flinched again. Unlike her earlier fear, this time she was visibly angry. She genuinely believes the blue-eyed girl in front of her is insulting her.

All pride and no courage—how did she even make it to subfaction leader?

I straightened up from my reclined, leg-crossed posture. As my face got closer, she panicked.

“Let’s talk seriously. What’s the basis for cutting the budget? Convince me.”

“…You know better than anyone. I’m the Pater subfaction leader, and I know what you’ve been doing.”

“All I’ve done is lock up violent troublemakers.”

Every checkpoint student knows Pater makes up a hefty portion of those troublemakers. About seventy percent of the protests we suppress in a week are Pater’s, with the same slogans and demands. I can still vividly recall their pamphlets in Gothic font screaming, “War with Gehenna!”

Is it our fault we took them all down? I was just responding to the Justice Task Force’s calls. I couldn’t just stand by while their makeshift tanks roamed the streets, so I authorized white phosphorus smoke.

White phosphorus, at worst, burns clothes—it barely scratches the body. I’m not saying this without evidence. The checkpoint has consistently won lawsuits over white phosphorus use against Pater.

The subfaction leader is just being petty. Unlike before, she must see me and the checkpoint’s hardline stance as a real threat to Pater. She’s not budging on the budget, which is a shame in a way.

“According to stats, of the 78 protests the checkpoint responded to last week, 51 were Pater’s. You ignored similar-sized protests happening at the same time and rushed to crush ours. Was that not intentional?”

“You think I pick and choose which protests to suppress? I only handle the ones the Justice Task Force asks me to. Is it my fault your people are so violent that even the Task Force can’t handle them?”

“But as a department head, you have the right to refuse, don’t you? I know you rejected suppressing a Sanctus protest two days ago.”

“I ended up accepting it.”

“And you didn’t fire a single tear gas canister—you mediated.”

“Sanctus is different from Pater. They’re far milder, and I know that. Choosing the cheaper option is common sense.”

“So, Pater’s a violent organization unlike others, is that it?”

“Why are you twisting my words? You’re not Chronos.”

“I hope Chronos doesn’t hear that.”

Is she implying she’d record this and leak it to the press? Her face showed no change, just a glare. One cheek puffed up with air, which was both absurd and, honestly, a little cute.

I don’t hate the subfaction leader. I dislike her more than others, sure, but anger toward someone fades with time. Right now, she’s just a girl scared her slice of the pie might shrink. That cheek-puffing gap moe probably boosted her rep in my mind a tiny bit.

Still, unlike me, who’d rather brush this off, she’s nitpicking every detail. It’s a clear sign she hates me. She’s deliberately turning this budget review into a de facto hearing.

That damn budget cut comment was probably meant to provoke me. If it weren’t for that, I’d have dealt with her far more rationally.

“I told Mika-sama too—I don’t hate Pater. I don’t hate you all, and frankly, I don’t care. My concern isn’t who’s causing trouble but how many high-explosive rounds it takes to knock them out. The cleanup’s for the Justice Task Force, not me.”

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t direct suppressions with such zeal. I’ve seen it all.”

“So you just watched from the sidelines, never once leading the charge?”

“What? I’ve been out there plenty!”

“But never at the front, always running away. You’ve never been arrested, have you?”

“Ugh… That’s because I had to leave early to prevent administrative chaos in Pater!”

Her face turned red. I was just poking, but hitting the mark threw me off a bit. The checkpoint doesn’t even keep arrest logs, let alone track how many explosives we used. Things only got more detailed after Sayuri-san came along.

How long is this tedious talk gonna drag on? I came to discuss the budget because she asked, but we’ve been bickering about the legitimacy of suppressions for nearly an hour.

Maybe I should just end it myself. That’d be quicker and easier. Right now, I just want to get back to the checkpoint and wash this irritation away with a cup of cocoa.

“Ugh, forget it. Let’s drop it. I won’t push for a budget revision, so don’t go slashing it at your whim either. I’ll keep suppressions within ‘political neutrality,’ as you put it.”

“…If I think your actions harm us, I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Pretty blunt, huh? Even when I’m trying to be nice, you hit back like that? I’ve got my own duties, and I’m trying to uphold them.”

“Isn’t the checkpoint’s duty to be the Justice Task Force’s lapdog?”

“What?”

“I said, isn’t your duty to be the Tea Party’s foot-wiper?”

Oh, here we go again.

I tried to hold back, but this damn bitch keeps mocking me?

My anger finally exploded. It’s because of this jerk, still bringing up the checkpoint’s inferiority complex with the Justice Task Force. I tried to keep my voice down, but it’s not working.

“That’s harsh, Subfaction Leader! I’m trying to end this nicely, so at least meet me halfway!”

“So you’re saying it’s not true?”

“My duty is to not tolerate anything that disrupts academy society’s order. And I think I’m doing that damn well. You keep trying to pin blame on me, but go talk to your deputy-level cronies rotting in the Justice Task Force’s detention cells!”

“What? You authoritarian!”

“I don’t know what law enforcement that is non-authoritarian is supposed to do then!”

Bang. I slammed the table and stood up. Part of me wanted to unload the L85 leaning nearby, but the still-rational part of my brain screamed to chill out. The subfaction leader’s eyes widened in shock at my outburst.

Damn it, catastrophe. This idiot completely torpedoed the negotiation. If I go easy on Pater protests for a few days, she probably won’t outright reject the budget, but screw it—I’m done caring about her feelings.

“Where are you going?”

“No more negotiation. I’m sick of looking at you.”

“What? Ending it here is basically sabotaging it!”

“If you hadn’t insulted me to the end, I’d have stayed! You ruined everything with your damn pride, kicking away any chance of us getting along!”

I slung the L85 over my shoulder and yanked the door open. The subfaction leader stood frozen, probably stunned.

Thanks to her, Pater’s reputation took a nosedive. It was already lower than Filius and Sanctus, but now I could fire white phosphorus rounds without a shred of guilt. Should I thank her for easing my conscience?

That aside, I hate her right now. If she comes at me with the same attitude next time, I’ll really hate her.

“Next time we meet, we should respect each other a bit. I don’t get why you keep throwing ashes on a finished meal.”

“…I’ll try.”

That’s a bit better.

“I hope it’s not just words.”

Clunk. I shut the door, and the hallway outside was dead silent.

A negotiation that was going fine completely shattered. If she retaliates with some spiteful move, it’ll be a pain for a while, but I didn’t back down for the checkpoint’s pride. I knew she didn’t have the guts for anything drastic, so I let my anger fly. The problem is the budget revision’s chances are now near zero.

Getting chewed out by Nagisa-sama, then Mika-sama, and now fighting with the subfaction leader—my mood’s absolute crap.

I left the Tea Party building. Unlike the sunny morning, rain was pouring down. The sun was setting on the horizon; a lot of time had passed.

Why’s my luck like this today? I’m definitely gonna get an earful from Sayuri-san when I get back to headquarters. Sure, I don’t have to sort out every detail myself—I’ve got a rough plan for distribution—so maybe I’ll only get chewed out a little. That’s my hope, at least.

Spending half the checkpoint’s budget on those gifts means we’ll have to pinch pennies for a while. But it’ll keep those Gehenna bastards from stepping foot here, so it’s worth it.

I’m craving Sayuri-san’s praise right now.

Hoo.

—Vroom!—

What a damn exhausting day.