[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 128

William Peter Scott (1897–1916), Private First Class, surveys the situation.

Nameless.

The 21st Northumberland Battalion of Scotland—a single rifle unit—was buried along the Somme River. The British Empire mourns the 19,000 firstborn sons lost on the first day of July. Private Scott exhaled into the hellish spectacle of the Somme.

The army answers to orders. A boy dared to obey the command to sacrifice his life toward the machine guns awaiting beyond no-man’s-land.

The whistle pierces the battlefield. Air forced into leather bags spills out as notes, syllable by syllable. Over the trench walls, forward. Up the ladder, into the navy-blue soil, among breathless corpses, toward a sky so futilely clear.

Into shell craters brimming with unknowable depths, toward tanks where one or two soldiers lie crushed, toward fighters launching one or two meager bombs—his gaze, the song of the bagpipes, carries forward. He stares at the monochrome flagpole marking the enemy’s defensive line, the horizon his homeland aims for.

—Bang! Hiss!

The Scottish piper halts—nay, cannot move.

His gaze falls, his body unable to brace itself as it collapses. His eyes drift downward, ever downward—why, what was he doing?

The blue eyes of the Scottish boy fixate on his own body, on the vivid holes piercing his uniform, on the dark crimson blood gushing forth. His gaze lingers on the blood spilling from his mouth, on the machine-gun nest firing relentlessly in the distance.

On the second day of July, in the Somme River basin of the Third French Republic.

His Majesty’s loyal government lost a boy, not even leaving behind a dog tag. Truly, it feels utterly wretched—what would some old codger in Westminster’s tea parlor care?

When tens of thousands have already been lost.

For Kadenokouji Inori (Age 17), it is a distant memory. The girl brushed it off with a wry smile.

Even with the heart of a seventeen-year-old girl, even with the heart of a nineteen-year-old youth, it feels futile. By the measure of consumed oatmeal porridge, she’s more than an adult—but to be an adult, like Sensei, she must overcome sorrow.

Today… let’s just—

Watch that amusing bagpipe disciple shouting at the top of their lungs.

“This is a matter of Trinity’s fate!”

***

What is this matter of Trinity’s fate?

One might think it’s about the resources of a branch academy’s territory.

Let’s dig into the truth. Arius Branch School is the successor to a “Trinity-affiliated sect” expelled during the Council of Nicaea. Back then, the concept of a General Student Council didn’t even exist. And now, they’re intervening in a place no one knew about before this mess erupted?

The Tea Party can only respond thus: The General Student Council’s political system and ideologies are incompatible, making cooperation inherently limited. Only when they take responsibility for upholding federal regulations and order can they align with us.

In plain terms: “We can’t stand you lot.”

It’s a sentiment shared across Filius, Sanctus, and Pater. But why am I, speaking in place of Sayuri-san, who outranks me? Honestly, we all know why, don’t we? Rank and reality are quite different.

The current position of “Border Checkpoint Commander” doubles as the “Proxy of Trinity General Academy”—and has for quite some time.

Those trusted by Nagisa-sama are fit to be called representatives. The Tea Party students might question why my role is limited to “Border Checkpoint Commander,” but what does the world—especially the General Student Council—think of this situation?

If I put myself in their shoes, I can say with certainty: They’d think Kirifuji Nagisa is dissatisfied with the status quo or, at the very least, plotting to upend it. Too proud to say, “Don’t even listen to those blasted fools,” she’s sent a proxy instead.

A proxy… it has a nice ring to it. Yes, indeed.

Anyway, back to Arius Branch School. This isn’t just about meddling in Trinity’s internal affairs. It’s about the Tea Party’s authority, the legitimacy of the academy established since the Council of Nicaea.

Long ago, Trinity wasn’t united. The branches, connected like roots, were merely a diplomatic coalition formed out of rage against Gehenna. Arius Branch School was one of them.

There’s even research suggesting they once bore the duties of the old Justina Order of Saints, but that’s not important now. Ahem.

What matters is that they were part of the main academy.

In modern terms: A branch school, where Trinity students once lived, has returned to our fold after centuries. It might sound like propaganda, but it’s true. Not a shred of falsehood!

Now that our dear Chief of Finance, Oki Aoi has brandished a hardline stance, we have no choice but to go all-in. That woman’s temperament won’t bend, let alone compromise—so we might as to go for broke, right?

While we’re at it, let’s build some legitimacy. Better to keep it as an autonomous district under Trinity than hand it over to the General Student Council.

“The sacred decision of Nicaea was a mistake, but does that mean we hand it over to the General Student Council? Trinity’s fate is ours to decide!”

Hear, hear!

Hear, hear!

A one-on-one with Chairwoman Hina was the kind of appointment any student familiar with her would dread, especially for official business. Basic negotiations regarding the Arius autonomous district—this matter will be revisited in a few days—and a non-interference agreement.

In exchange, I’m to deliver cocoa to the Prefect Team’s office once a week—why, of all things?! I don’t know her true intentions, but since I got more than I bargained for, it’s probably fine. I’ve got some decent cocoa beans stashed in the warehouse lately.

Today, after formally rejecting the General Student Council’s demands and finalizing talks with Gehenna, the rigged game of Go-Stop will be complete. The Chief of Finance must be fuming, huh?

What can we do? Rin-senpai and I are having too much fun with this game. I brought the microphone close and raised my right hand.

Now, for the climax!

“Honorable citizens of Trinity General Academy—”

Let me say it again:

This is a matter of Trinity’s fate.

We stand at a crossroads between bondage and freedom.

We choose freedom!

***

Once more, I say to you all: In defending freedom, extremism is not evil. In pursuing justice, restraint is not a virtue.

Oki Aoi was appalled.

If it’s not evil, if rules need not be followed… then what in the world is truly wicked? Why do laws exist?

The girl standing alone at the podium roars with fervor. Tea Party executives, gathered from all sides, cheer wildly, shouting, “Hear, hear!”—it’s dizzying. Trinity is swept up in a frenzy for a single cause.

A situation Aoi cannot comprehend spirals out of control. The General Student Council’s regulations detail the scope of extraordinary powers they can wield in wartime, and the Treasury merely passed a motion through those rules.

They’re only working to restore order. Why such vehement opposition?

Trinity’s autonomous district has been notified it lacks authority to intervene in the so-called “Arius Dispute.” The proxy, seal stamped and all, is in the midst of a speech—likely a premeditated plan to unleash a carefully concealed scheme.

Who was it that met with the proxy? Aoi pauses, then recalls her mistake-prone senior. Didn’t Rin-senpai say she’d handle the negotiations?

“So, this was the ‘deal’ you spoke of, Senpai?”

“…”

Is she hung up on the title? Who cares? The General Student Council’s authority is crumbling.

“Hikari, the proxy, asked why it had to be Trinity.”

Ask the question properly! Why Trinity? If she’s talking about the recent Abydos Autonomous District and Millennium Science School incidents, she’s clueless. This is long overdue.

“The administrative paralysis was resolved just days ago, and submitting a motion to intervene today is only natural. It’s the most recent issue, and intervening in the rapidly escalating Arius Branch School situation is obvious.”

The Eden Treaty incident was spearheaded by the General Student Council President herself, a top-priority matter.

The Abydos Autonomous District conflict, which escalated after Sensei stepped in to resolve a simple issue, and the Millennium outer district closure caused by Student Council President Tsukatsuki Rio’s rampage—among other factors—are secondary.

“Don’t you think so, Senpai? Why do they refuse to listen and misunderstand us?”

“Well…”

Rin-senpai’s glasses glinted white.

“Perhaps we’re the ones who are wrong.”