[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 134

“It’s a simple matter, isn’t it? Stamp it, make the announcement. I could do it with my eyes closed.”

A rare sight indeed. The Trinity girl might’ve thought the same, but Oki Aoi certainly did. Her own flustered expression, the demands put forth by the two academies, Rin-senpai’s acquiescence to it all—everything.

As an administrator overseeing the General Student Council’s finances, I declare: this is pure nonsense!

The biggest issue is they’re justifying overreach beyond their autonomous district’s authority. Trinity and Gehenna are undeniably Kivotos’s largest academies. But they’re just autonomous districts, not entitled to infringe on the General Student Council’s jurisdiction.

This situation shouldn’t even exist. Constitutional protection isn’t just a buzzword. Canon law is the paramount rule, no matter the circumstances, and it’s a consensus we must uphold.

Why are they pushing this nonsense? They may not fear us, but we can’t back down from such treatment.

“That’s unacceptable, proxy.”

Pfft.

The student in the white-and-blue uniform scoffed, as if my words weren’t worth responding to.

“Chief of Finance Aoi—or rather, Chief of Finance-sama. It’s a perfectly reasonable request from Trinity’s autonomous district. Just a matter of acting first and reporting later.”

An absurd claim. Acting first and reporting later isn’t standard procedure, and rather than demanding it, they should’ve negotiated for approval. They can’t just brazenly push like this.

“I can’t accept that. As the Chief Administrator stated, Trinity’s autonomous district lacks the authority to sign individual treaties between academies. At the very least, you should’ve submitted a written permit request on the day of signing. In this situation…”

“What’s the basis for that claim?”

Thwack. The Pandemonium Society Chairwoman lightly struck the table and asked. What’s your deal? Why are you challenging canon law?

“…What?”

“I’m asking what basis you have for claiming our treaty violates the General Student Council’s canon law. This Makoto-sama doesn’t quite get it.”

Because it’s written in the canon law. Isn’t that obvious?

I stared at the proxy, genuinely flustered—similar to when I threw a sharp question earlier. She looked equally thrown off, but this time it seemed different, somehow.

“Sigh… Check Article 37, Clause 2 of the ‘Club Law’ in the General Student Council’s Canon Code. ‘Autonomous districts cannot sign individual treaties with other autonomous districts.’ To comply, the treaty must be submitted to the Council’s Administrative Committee or immediately approved post-signing.”

“Nope.”

Even more absurd. Now even Rin-senpai was looking at me with a bewildered expression.

“For Gehenna’s freedom, I reject that canon law! The General Student Council will soon be crushed under this Makoto-sama’s grand plan. What’s the point of following their rules? Right, Iroha?”

That aide—Natsume, was it? Unlike us, who’d given up on the conversation, she sighed and responded to her superior.

“Makoto-senpai, rejecting the Council’s canon law would make us a barbaric academy, worse than Trinity. Sanctum Tower’s infrastructure support would stop, and maintaining military forces would be impossible. Would you like that?”

“Haha… that’s hard to argue with, Iroha-chan. Care to repeat it?”

What’s with her? Why’s the proxy getting riled up?

The use of nicknames suggests some familiarity. But right now, I can’t process accurate information. What’s going on…?

“Sigh… How about once every three days, Senpai?”

“That’d be great… Wait, now that I think about it, cocoa delivery’s once a week! Are you tricking me again, Iroha-chan?”

I don’t want to understand. The proxy and her counterpart have formed some collusion through negotiations, and the Pandemonium Society Chairwoman is still counting her fingers, calculating some unspoken profit.

These are the leaders of Trinity and Gehenna? My head’s throbbing—this is unbelievable!

Even with the AC on, the chilly meeting room feels like it’s heating up. This might be Kirifuji Nagisa’s scheming. If the Student Council President were here, this mess would’ve been prevented!

Aoi-chan’s always so uptight… Use some Latin instead of Arabic numerals.

Huh? Why?

Haha—because it’s fun, obviously! Whoa, sorry! I’ll stop!

Or maybe not.

Oki Aoi despaired.

Kivotos is already doomed.

***

In the end, the General Student Council raised both hands and feet in surrender. It was a rigged game from the start—no surprises there.

Some changes were made to parts of Arius Branch School’s borderlands. By principle, since Trinity’s autonomous district contributed 100% to this operation, they should take it all—what a tasty interpretation—but reality’s not so simple.

0.8 square kilometers… about 220×280 yards of plains. Small if you call it small, big if you call it big. Enough to build a dorm, maybe?

I thought Chairwoman Makoto would throw a fit, yelling, “Why’s this Makoto-sama’s decision being meddled with?” but…

She agreed.

Oh, if you say so, then through a meeting… Wait, what?

She agreed.

That senpai’s no ordinary player. I’ve known her idiocy—er, reputation—since her checkpoint commander days, so I don’t think she’s a capable administrator despite her public image, but she’s got some political savvy.

Just now, she twisted the argument in an unexpected way, leaving no room for rebuttal.

Nagisa-sama’s long been renowned for securing influence through cunning, and Seia-sama firmly states her opinions, building a solid faction. Mika-sama… hates Gehenna.

And Chairwoman Makoto won a third term with a 3% turnout and 2.78% approval. That’s seriously impressive. In a Tea Party election—our indirect election system, mind you—that stunt would get you blocked by the veto clause.

Anyway, impressive’s impressive, but now it’s time to enjoy myself. A diplomatic win, after all.

Clink, clink.

I strolled down the General Student Council building’s hallway with Iroha-chan.

“Hikari-senpai, got any cocoa left?”

“Didn’t bring any to begin with.”

Tch.

“…Don’t click your tongue in front of your senpai. Anyway, poor Aoi. She raised hell until Rin-senpai basically said, ‘Enough.’ She thought she had allies until the end.”

“The Chief of Finance’s excessively principled. Money-handlers are like that.”

Fair point. If she had a shred of flexibility, she’d overlook a day or two of missing reports, thinking, “Oh! The Council President’s absence caused us to miss their moves! Let’s do better next time.”

The military calls such people terrifying auditors if they’re competent, or Gehenna brats if they’re not. Sadly, Aoi’s competent but doesn’t get much praise.

“But your Chairwoman’s something else. Never thought I’d see the day a Treasury student got silenced.”

Three years of social mess hall meals don’t vanish. That level of verbal judo would let her thrive in Trinity. Pater folks are best at—sorry, Sayuri-chan—twisting words.

“No big deal. You pick up that much sparring with the Prefect Team.”

“Got it.”

…Sparring?

“Mostly over budget allocations. We don’t usually cut everything, but with recent events… ahem.”

“Sounds like something happened. Neither Makoto nor Iroha-chan seem like the type to get that mad. Did a stock you invested in get delisted? Or did you ‘split’ something, like a tradition?”

One of our checkpoint members lost 80% of their wealth that way, so I know a bit.

No.

Uh, no… Then what?

“Ibuki cried.”

—Ahem.

OK! Fine, let’s move on.

***

This document I brought today, and the General Student Council’s press conference being broadcast, if not the peace of our era—

“Heh, nice press conference.”

“The Chronos kids asked some aggressive questions. I nearly answered wrong.”

It’s amazing every time I drink it. Truly fine black tea.

Nagisa-sama values tea as much as sweets in the Tea Party. Of course, Trinity students are split—half for black tea, half for Miracle 5000—but as the Host, she’s particular.

It’s, well, high quality. Not overwhelming, slightly bitter but not without sweetness.

How do they balance it like that?

“…So, I heard about Setsune-san. Morishita Sayuri—no, Sayuri-san—explained it well.”

“I know the story. I’m… somewhat prepared.”

She’ll spend her remaining political life, so I should put my proxy post on the line, huh? It’s not like I’m here by choice. Should I beg Nagisa-sama and submit a resignation?

Pater still has hardliners. They’ll do their best to—pfft—curb my power.

“What’s your plan, Hikari-san? Political instability can’t be tolerated.”

“I’m ready to accept my fate.”

Nagisa-sama briefly pretended not to understand.

…What?

That look doesn’t make my heart race—it just leaves me at a loss for words.

I’m getting arrhythmia.

Look, their actions are still legal, and back then, my authority to expand martial law in the Tea Party was shaky at best.

If you lose the cause, you’re done. Guess I’ll build a shack next to the checkpoint and live there.

“Hikari-san, they might break the law.”

“Don’t worry. Even Pater’s girls have a line.”

“But if they don’t…”

If they don’t, huh. Hadn’t thought of that.

Let’s crush them with reason.

“Nagisa-sama.”

I flashed a bright smile.

“Our club was made to take down people like that.”