[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 56

The meeting proceeded somehow. The pretext might have collapsed, but there was no point in letting the conversation stall.

The flow of the discussion gradually shifted to the internal and external affairs of the academy. Fortunately for me, the Head understood enough not to delve into the specifics of last night’s events involving all sorts of high-ranking socialites—though, by now, I’m one of them myself.

To be honest, I’m pretty tangled up in it all too.

I got a report about a communication line issue. Apparently, a cable got wrecked by a storm in the middle of the night. Had to call the construction company at midnight.

“As for our side, the Intelligence Department under the Prefect Team isn’t the only intelligence agency in Gehenna Academy. The outskirts are practically a mess of warlord factions. They’ve got their own informants, and even Pandemonium Society’s set up secret police. It’s a lot.”

“That reminds me of something from the past. Two of your spies got caught at the Tea Party Hall, and both insisted they weren’t from the Prefect Team. As soon as they realized they were from different groups, they started fighting like crazy.”

“I hope your memory serves as good evidence for my explanation. We’re trying our best to gather as much information as possible, but… you know how it is. The gap between goals and results is always wide. We’ll probably have to keep fighting for a while.”

I know that better than anyone. It’s giving me PTSD.

Oh, how the peaceful life I dreamed of until graduation has been torn to shreds in the most horrific way! I should’ve begged Nagisa-sama to take back that unilateral promotion when she gifted it to me.

Thanks to that, a student who was just a director got her head smashed by the very person who promoted her, got trapped in a desert, and now here I am, having a conversation with the symbolic figure of “Gehenna Prefect Team Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder” (G-PTSD). It’s dreadful.

As the old saying goes, if you aim to draw a tiger, you might at least end up with a cat. I didn’t even try, and somehow I’m sitting on a throne.

…Maybe she’s in a similar position. A sense of duty, mounting pressure from those around her. But lacking the courage to push away the students and subordinates who look up to her with admiration, just scraping by.

In old-timer talk, the world calls that a shitty life. A life where you’re either swept away by the storm or toss yourself aside first. Not exactly pleasant.

But she’s a stranger, and I don’t know her heart, so I just keep these thoughts to myself.

“There’s this genre—science magazines or SF novels, something like that. A world where everything in the academy runs like a machine, without emotion, and students are just cogs in the system. Of course, the protagonist tries to tear it all down.”

“Are you saying you want to be that protagonist?”

“No, not quite. Kivotos is far from that kind of bleakness, but it does feel like you, me, and a few other students are just spinning as substitutes for those cogs.”

“…” Don’t look at me like that—it’s not embarrassing, it’s just a little scary.

“I’m just saying you and I have been through a lot. No deeper meaning, so just let it slide.”

“Alright.”

After a brief detour into pointless chatter, the meeting returned to productive topics. The Head seemed to have prepared plenty to talk about beyond just the main issue. For someone as socially awkward as me, that’s a good thing.

We talked about how the political scene’s been lately, whether there’s been any major issues with work—surprisingly, not much adult talk. Maybe the rumor about a seminar student from Millennium getting caught for stock manipulation and getting absolutely wrecked. That was kind of an interesting story.

I realized while talking that the administrative officer actually loves cocoa. So does the Head.

According to the officer, she brews coffee for the Head every morning. Intrigued, I asked her to try making some here. She confidently went off and came back with three cups of pitch-black coffee.

The Head drank it like it was nothing and said it was good, so I thought it’d be fine and took a sip.

Then I immediately spat it out.

“Cough, cough… hack, hack… Ugh, what the…”

“…You okay? It’s not my fault, I didn’t poison it!”

“No, I know, but… cough. The coffee bean ratio…”

No exaggeration, I thought I was drinking pure coffee extract, not coffee.

The Prefect Team Head just chugged this toxic stuff like it was nothing? How do you even swallow a liquid lump of nothing but bitter without a hint of sweetness? Look at her—her face is a total poker face right now.

Is this what you have to drink to roll through a full day as the Head in the Prefect Team? That’s terrifying.

“Head, I’ve been thinking—there’s a drink that’s pretty close to the officer’s coffee.”

“What’s that?”

“Caffeine extract.”

And 100% pure, at that.

***

“…My standing in the Tea Party Hall is a lot narrower than you or the public think. At least, that’s what I believe.”

“I’d say that’s your misconception. Honestly, no one else thinks that. It’s strange to think a student who commands Trinity’s third-largest armed group could ever be politically disadvantaged.”

“Sure, if I knew how to wield power, I could run rampant. The problem is, I don’t. I’d need to dip my toes in the political waters to even know if it’s cold or hot.”

“Keeping your head down and staying quiet all the time isn’t good for you either, Hikari.”

Heh. Shitty political talk.

I’m not exactly keeping my head down. I’m more like a worm. Normally, I stay still, but if you poke me, I’ll make a fuss.

I mean, appearance-wise, I’m not exactly a refined lady either. What I don’t get is, I’m just eating up the Tea Party Hall’s food without doing anything, yet people think I’m starting rebellions or expanding my power base like I’m some kind of fortune-teller.

It’s no different from the editorials in the news. They talk big, act like they’re right, then pretend nothing happened when they’re wrong, or boast about being the greatest commentator when they’re right. The Tea Party Hall’s the same.

At least Nagisa-sama hasn’t said much lately, so that’s a relief.

“Still, I squirm if I’m hit. I’m not a towering tree, so don’t worry.”

“That’s exactly the attitude I’m saying isn’t good… Sometimes, you need to take a hard stance. Take it as advice from a political senior. I’ve got my own ways of pushing back against Pandemonium, but they still see me as a pushover.”

“Sounds like those Pater brats. They know they’re the privileged elite but have no idea who’s protecting their privilege. I’ll keep it in mind. If something comes up, I’ll give you a call.”

“If something comes up?”

“Just a hypothetical, really. Don’t worry about it.”

All sorts of stories are floating around. At this point, I’m starting to wonder if the Head just doesn’t want to leave. It wasn’t exactly dawn when she arrived, but as time’s gone on, it’s definitely dawn now, and neither she nor the officer shows any sign of leaving.

I’m fine with it. Standing guard at night gets lonely, so this is a nice way to pass the time.

“Hikari. I didn’t come here for personal reasons to begin with, but since things got a bit messy, I might as well say what’s on my mind. It’s a bit serious—okay to talk about it in the middle of the night?”

“No problem. Go ahead.”

“What would you do if an incident happened during the Eden Treaty signing ceremony?”

I’ve thought about it. The Justice Task Force and the Guard don’t seem too worried, but I’m a bit uneasy. The last coup… incident, had some complications, and honestly, Trinity’s security isn’t exactly reliable.

“Can I assume the Border Checkpoint has its own strategies in place?”

“Actually, yes. I could show you some of it if needed. It’s pretty complex with all the maps and notes, though. Want to take a look?”

The Prefect Team Head nodded quietly. The officer’s eyes practically sparkled—whether from pure curiosity or the thrill of seeing a rival academy’s strategy, I’m not sure. It’s not a big deal, though.

I led them to the strategy meeting room. It’d been a while since the last committee meeting, so the place was covered in dust.

I pulled out a few maps from a drawer and spread them on the table. This one’s probably the Abydos invasion scenario, this one’s for General Student Council intervention, and this one… oh, crap, it’s the Gehenna invasion. Don’t need that.

“Why’d you put that one back?”

“There’s nothing good to see in it.”

“…?”

It’s a plan where Pandemonium Society and the Prefect Team join forces to launch a surprise attack on the Cathedral and Tea Party Hall without a declaration of war. Even if you’re the chairwoman, I can’t show that to a key figure from another academy. That’d be rude.

I brought out only the most detailed plans from the ones our eight-person committee treated like a brain in a vat.

For these plans, I can confidently say they’re among the best in quality out of all the strategic plans produced by Trinity’s military academia. That’s thanks to the talent of my juniors, who obsess over useless details.

My juniors and some peers went all out. How do you even predict the Kaiser Corporation’s forces flooding in from the Abydos border down to a single unit? One of our agents supposedly went to Millennium just to do the calculations.

The Head looked pretty impressed. But it wasn’t a “just a checkpoint?” kind of vibe.

“…It’s intricate. Really. Even the Prefect Team’s Helmet Gang arrest operations rarely reach this scale.”

“I’m flattered by the praise. I didn’t do it all myself, though. I might be good at thinking, but I’m terrible at putting it into words. One of our junior agents draws maps for strategic white papers like a genius. I owe them a lot.”

“If the kind of incident you or I are worried about actually happens, having even one or two scenarios like these makes preparation so much easier. I’m a bit relieved—you’re more thorough than I thought.”

The Head flipped through the strategy documents. The officer was busy taking photos like an excited kid, probably planning to use them to draft something similar back at the Prefect Team. They’re not exactly military secrets, so I let it slide.

While I was at it, I brought out a few more plans. One for an attack on the checkpoint itself, another for someone attempting to assassinate the host or other key figures, and so on. We’ve got a lot of strategies.

“What’s this one? Unlike the others, it doesn’t specify an enemy.”

“Huh? Usually plans like that are… oh no.”

Oh no?

Operation Clear Sky Plan

Words that shouldn’t be seen are written there.

I’m certain I locked this one away in my office safe. Did someone take it out, or did I move it in my sleep and forget? Either way, this is a bit of a problem.

Clear Sky is a military secret! Sure, it’s a relief it hasn’t been caught by the Tea Party’s auditors, especially the Pater faction, but getting spotted by a department head from another academy? Is this okay?

“Can’t you just let it slide? It’s… a bit awkward.”

“I’m curious. I’ve already skimmed it, so I know the gist.”

Trinity’s security hole is you, Yamatsu Hikari! You useless idiot!

At this point, it might be better to give a vague explanation and move on. I’ll bet on the Head’s goodwill to keep work and personal matters separate.

“It’s just a plan. Everyone makes one or two like it, right? For when things go south up top.”

“It’s different, Hikari. You’re at the center of this plan. The map only marks the Tea Party Hall and other Tea Party buildings. I know what this means, but at the same time, I hope my perception of you doesn’t change.”

“…I really don’t have any ulterior motives. I trust Nagisa-sama enough, and I don’t have the guts to start trouble in peaceful times.”

The Head gave me a puzzled look. I think she almost changed her perception of me the moment she saw the plan.

“It only applies to the Pater faction or extremists. I believe Trinity’s system needs to move forward no matter what. I might not climb to the top, but I do need to clear obstacles.”

“That’s a dangerous thought. I can’t say I haven’t considered it myself, but still.”

“Dangerous, sure. Maybe it’s just something I’d say to you.”

I didn’t lock Clear Sky in the safe for nothing. Honestly, I don’t even want to bring it up. I hope I never have to execute it.

I only wrote it just in case—really, just in case. Like the Head said, having one or two plans for situations like this can be a huge help. I don’t want to leave the checkpoint defenseless.

“I know exactly what certain Tea Party factions are aiming for. I’m trying to stop them. You can’t just let them bark.”

“Then what’s your goal?”

“Hah, asking the obvious again. You already know.”

It’s just common sense.

“…Even if the bastards bark, the train keeps running.”