[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 38

Expulsion from Trinity doesn’t necessarily mean complete banishment.

Trinity General Academy’s regulations, which guarantee freedom of movement for all students not deemed harmful, are the primary legal basis for encountering Gehenna students at the Cathedral. This applies to students in the Supplementary Lessons Department as well, even if they’re expelled.

The problem is that the leeway for liberal legal interpretation lies with the higher-ups, allowing them to sidestep it entirely.

In normal times, it’s highly unlikely that a “reasonable” Tea Party would make such a decision. But what if, right after expelling all the Supplementary Lessons Department members, the Tea Party falsely accuses them of school violence and imposes penalties that leave red marks on their records?

They’d never be able to return or enter again. And those red marks would be a massive obstacle to transferring to another academy. She might be thinking exactly that. What a foolproof plan—simple and effective, permanently barring them.

And I feel obligated to oppose it.

“Nagisa-sama.”

“…Speak.”

Perhaps sensing the shift in my demeanor, Nagisa-sama inadvertently tilted her teacup, spilling a few drops of black tea.

“Of course, I’m well aware that, given the current situation, you don’t trust me. But as a department head under the Trinity General Academy Student Council’s Tea Party, I stand as a subordinate serving you.”

“That’s right.”

“That means, as an officer of the Tea Party, I have a duty to offer counsel—or, in some cases, remonstrance—if I believe you’re preparing an inappropriate policy.”

“That’s… true. Yes, I acknowledge that.”

“And finally, I strongly feel compelled to fulfill that duty, Your Excellency!”

To be honest, the stress from our earlier conversation had me so worked up that I knew I shouldn’t push my opinions too forcefully until I calmed down. I was afraid I’d let slip something too extreme.

But Nagisa-sama is clearly mistaken.

I had to make my case, and strongly. Even if it came off as excessively radical.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“…What?”

Like that.

Nagisa-sama was visibly flustered, clearly not expecting my outburst. Even someone rumored to have angrily threatened to shove a roll cake in Mika-sama’s mouth probably didn’t imagine I’d resort to such language.

“What… what do you mean by that…?”

“I thought you’d understand. In the half-millennium history of Trinity General Academy, there’s only been one case of a student being expelled. No, they weren’t even students—they were more like a gang.”

“Arius, you mean.”

“You know this, so why would you make such a decision?”

It’s an undeniable historical fact that the Arius Branch, which refused integration and waged what was essentially a great war, collapsed at Trinity’s hands.

Not many students know this, and I only know it because I’m a history buff, but it serves as a strong justification for opposing Nagisa-sama’s actions now. What does it mean that the only precedent involved starting a war?

If you exile those kids, who knows what could happen?

“But even if the Supplementary Lessons Department were expelled, the chances of them starting a civil war like Arius are slim.”

“I’m not talking about Arius. I’m talking about precedent.”

“Precedent?”

“Just as judges prioritize legal precedent, past disciplinary actions heavily influence decisions in student hearings. That’s obvious, but if you, Nagisa-sama, treat their expulsion as a form of punishment, it’ll cause some serious problems.”

Not every punishment is pure in intent, and not every hearing strictly adheres to precedent.

“I can clearly see what’ll happen to Trinity’s future generations because of the decision you’re about to make. Years from now, a Tea Party host will expel students they don’t like, citing this precedent without hesitation.”

“That assumes the Supplementary Lessons Department students are expelled.”

“I’m saying this because I believe it will happen, Nagisa-sama. You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you? But I’m terrified of how this lowered legal threshold will be used in vile, disgusting ways.”

“Are you saying I’m definitely going to expel them, Hikari-san?”

“Yes, and I’ll say it outright… that’s insane.”

Once the hurdle is lowered, the next time will be easier.

One expelled student could become four, then dozens, then hundreds. Trinity General Academy’s gates might become a revolving door of students coming and going endlessly.

If I saw that, I’d probably say, What a shitty situation.

Nagisa-sama seemed to find my argument reasonable, as she fell into deep thought. She likely never considered this perspective. She believes she’s always rational, a student capable of logical thinking.

But I think this situation clearly involves some unspoken emotion on her part—at least, that’s what I believe. An emotion that’s led to this crossroads in Trinity’s history, between the Eden Treaty and expulsion. Fear, probably.

Does she even realize it?

“…I see, that’s how you think. Sensei was a bit harsher, but the gist is similar.”

“I know Sensei met with you and Mika-sama. What did he say?”

“At the time, Sensei agreed readily, thinking the Supplementary Lessons Department had pure intentions. But after learning how I was treating them… he called me an incorrigible paranoid, saying he had no time for my suspicions.”

“Sensei doesn’t seem like the type to throw around harsh words lightly. What did you say to provoke that reaction?”

“It was about the hearts of others. I used Hifumi-san as an example. Her kind nature, her demeanor, her personality… even observing all that, you can’t truly know someone’s heart. Because they’re another person, I said, with some extra remarks.”

Nagisa-sama bowed her head, silent, as if deeply traumatized by the memory.

I sank into thought. I agree with her point, to an extent. I’m no mind reader, nor do I have any special insight. I don’t even fully understand the hearts of Ritsuko-chan or Sayuri-san, whom I talk to all day, let alone my parents, whom I’ve known for nearly twenty years.

The only but fatal flaw in her argument is that it’s an undeniable truth. We all live hiding our true selves, guessing at others’ thoughts. Just as Nagisa-sama doesn’t know my heart, I don’t know her true intentions.

That’s just how everyone lives. You might suspect someone stole your stuff, but you don’t drag them to the Justice Task Force by the hair or make false accusations just because you’re in a bad mood—not like this.

So, this… it’s not even a shred of evidence.

No matter how urgent the situation, purges in the military are rare. They call it “stars falling” for a reason. If something that barely happens in a rigid military is occurring in society based on a single “emotional” opinion, does that make sense?

Damn it, of course not.

“…So you’re set on expelling them? Just because they’re unknowns, and you don’t know if their hearts harbor betrayal against Trinity? You’re treating me like a rebel leader for such a flimsy reason, ignoring my loyalty?”

“Hikari-san, what are you—”

“I thought you had some grand reason, so I held back even when you threw harsh words at me earlier! But now, I don’t just fail to understand you—I don’t want to.”

“I threw harsh words at you? I merely pointed out my suspicions about you, step by step. And you haven’t provided any substantial explanations. You should remember that.”

“And I’ll remember that you’re gripped by paranoia about them. Now I understand why Sensei called you a paranoid ghost.”

“Hikari-san!”

“I’ve held back enough! Nagisa-sama, no, Your Excellency. As the head of the checkpoint, I am, as you say, forming a sort of political faction. That means I must prioritize the checkpoint’s interests. And I can say with certainty: the checkpoint isn’t being treated fairly!”

“Why are you only saying this after massively expanding the Border Checkpoint? Hikari-san, you’re truly a political figure. Your words sound extremely aggressive to me! Do you understand what that means?”

“What does it mean? I’m trying my hardest to keep my emotions in check, Nagisa-sama!”

“That’s not a subdued emotion at all! To me, you’re… you’re a frightening person. Yes, frightening!”

Anger began to seep into Nagisa-sama’s voice.

“Your Excellency.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I’ve worked for years, months, for this Eden Treaty. The Student Council President went missing, and after pouring every effort into grasping the thread of the treaty, now you and him show up! Throughout this process, I couldn’t help but feel anxious!”

“Then don’t exile them, even if I don’t understand!”

“They don’t seem dangerous to you, Hikari-san? Urawa Hanako was once courted by both the Tea Party and Sisterhood, and she carries a wealth of classified information in her head. Her very existence is a risk to the Eden Treaty. Hifumi-san was suspected of being the mastermind behind a robbery in Abydos, so I had to overcome immense emotional burden to send her there. Signing the admission order was truly painful.”

“…”

“And what about Shirasu Azusa? She wasn’t even a Trinity student until last year, haha. Isn’t that a funny story? A student who can fight on par with Justice Task Force members—how could she not be a spy? They’re all unreliable risks. Not as much as you, though.”

“Do you still think I’m plotting to overthrow the system? Then why am I here, talking to you? I could just storm in with guns blazing, shooting every rebellious punk in sight. You’ve got the wrong person, Your Excellency!”

“You’re the proof, Hikari-san. Ask the Tea Party administrators—not just the Pater faction, but even some in the Filius faction fear you now. They might even tell you the location of the safehouse.”

“…I don’t understand. Why am I being made into a symbol of Trinity’s militarism?”

“Because you’re the most militaristic in the Tea Party! They see you as different from the Pater faction administrators, who mindlessly call for war with Gehenna. Some students even believe your ambition—or lack thereof—will determine our future.”

“…”

“That may not be your true intention, but that’s what we believe.”

“…In the end, it’s because we’re others, isn’t it?”

Wow.

Goddamn it.

I had no idea my reputation in the Tea Party Hall had fallen this far.

All I’ve done is beat up Gehenna, crush Pater, Filius, and Sanctus, deal with uncooperative factions, fire some artillery, and get chewed out by the higher-ups. Oh, and I kept making cocoa.

Sure, I’ve been more vocal about aggressive suppression than other students, but a few offhand comments about crushing everyone shouldn’t ruin my reputation.

…Or should it?

Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe I should’ve been more restrained.

My loyalty to Trinity General Academy, my home, still burns brightly, but my loyalty to those who fear me… let’s be honest, that might weaken after today. I’m confused.

For now, ending this emotionally charged conversation with Nagisa-sama seems like the priority. With the Eden Treaty just a month and a few weeks away, she can’t afford to be swept up in emotions.

Just as I’ve gained more infamy than Commander Tsurugi by sitting here, she needs to fulfill her responsibilities as well.

I stopped my thoughts and looked at Nagisa-sama. She was wiping tears with a handkerchief, almost as if she’d been on the verge of crying. A few tear stains lingered on the teacup and tablecloth below.

“Nagisa-sama. I’ve found a dream. I want you, Mika-sama, the Tea Party, and the new Sanctus faction leader to believe in my loyalty and my steadfast faith in order.”

“…”

“That’s why I ask that you permit the Checkpoint to handle external security during the Eden Treaty ceremony. As a sort of… test of my trust.”

“A test of your trust.”

“…Yes.”

Nagisa-sama fell into thought again. Thankfully, it didn’t take long this time.

“…Hikari-san. Until just now, I didn’t trust you. But your words have sparked a small bit of faith in me.”

“Then, perhaps—”

“Yes, I’ll permit it. The Justice Task Force will handle internal security at the Cathedral, and the Checkpoint will manage the external areas.”

“Thank you.”

Nagisa-sama, still trying to collect her emotions, gestured for me to leave.

As I stood and approached the hallway, her voice called out from behind.

“I want to trust you even the day after the treaty ceremony, Hikari-san.”

“I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”

“And… about the Supplementary Lessons Department, let’s discuss it another time.”

“…Understood.”

It seems Nagisa-sama didn’t want to bring up sensitive topics and vent again. I understood, so unlike the start of our conversation, I decided to let it slide this time.

I left the Tea Party Hall. In my hand was the training report, signed by Nagisa-sama. In the context of today’s conversation, which I might barely recall later, it’s the most reliable physical witness. Probably until it’s buried and rots away.

All I gained from this talk was a sliver of Nagisa-sama’s trust. It’s a huge step forward compared to when she fully believed I’d stage a coup, but honestly, it feels like a half-hearted resolution.

I don’t feel great about it. I think I’ll head back to the checkpoint and rest for the day.

The sky, oblivious to my mood, was infuriatingly clear.