[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 144

Sensei.

Do you know about the person who bears responsibility?

A short conversation.

But one that could never be forgotten.

The Sensei from Schale remembers it vividly.

***

In the aftermath of the Eden Treaty Incident, the Tea Party and the General Student Council were at odds.

Sensei made their way to the Trinity Autonomous District. As an adult, they couldn’t just stand by and watch the situation unfold, and besides, there was someone they hadn’t seen in a while. The Arius Military Administration under the Trinity Autonomous District—an oddly named place.

The students guarding the towering ramparts recognized Sensei’s face and hurriedly opened the gates, flustered.

The Advisor Teacher of Schale held nominal authority, but their actual influence was arguably even greater. They could go anywhere and receive help with anything. Such was the contribution they had made to the world.

After getting out of a taxi and walking for a while, the man arrived at a small office. The owner hadn’t summoned him, but having already encountered students at the entrance, she must have known he was coming. Moreover, she wasn’t the type to turn away a guest.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three knocks, and it didn’t take long for a response. At least, that’s what Sensei thought.

“Come in.”

Creak—perhaps due to lack of maintenance since the fighting ended, the door let out a screeching wail.

The cityscape visible through the office’s rear window was a ruin in itself. Black, grimy concrete and reddish brick heaps overwhelmed everything. Countless craters in the streets hinted at what had fallen there. At least, that’s what Sensei thought.

A girl stirred a cup filled with a brownish liquid with a teaspoon. Sensei knew the many aliases she went by, but in their mind, she was stored as the “white-and-red student.” At least, that’s what Sensei thought.

She didn’t mind being called by colors. It was far more vibrant than her other nicknames.

From the somewhat rigid title of Trinity Border Checkpoint Commander to the official role of Proxy of Trinity General Academy, acting on behalf of Kirifuji Nagisa, and so on. Some called her the Tea Party Host’s sword, others the fiercest supporter of the Tea Party regime.

Sensei decided not to dwell on the honorifics that shouldn’t be scorned. At least, that’s what Sensei thought.

From names too vile for an adult to utter, to dictator, leader… the list was endless. Sensei, too, was active in the vast online world. They had seen countless people fear her as a veiled figure.

But at least, Sensei didn’t think that way.

They shouldn’t. It was the duty of an adult.

“When I heard the report that Sensei was spotted at the administrative border, I was stunned. I even wondered if something had happened to Nagisa-sama… but in that case, a senior administrator would have come directly, wouldn’t they?”

“Probably. …Oh, thanks for the cocoa. You make great cocoa, Hikari. Thanks for delivering some to Schale.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Sensei could feel the girl’s sharp gaze turn toward them. Her eyebrows formed a gentle curve, not hostile.

“Luckily, we have plenty of time to talk today. That’s a good thing. The Sabbath… a blessed day, a day of grace. Oh, I say this cautiously in case you follow another faith. May you be blessed.”

“Thanks. I hope you have a good day too, Hikari. I don’t follow any religion, though.”

It seemed like a flowing conversation, but it could also be seen as slightly awkward. Every time Sensei had met Hikari before, it was with an unspoken agenda, perhaps a request—unfortunately, like now.

If she was a girl with considerable political experience, she’d have already sensed Sensei’s intentions.

“…So.”

What brings you here, Sensei?

The girl asked.

And the adult bearing the title of Sensei knew well how much Hikari had struggled to save her alma mater from crisis. It wasn’t easy to make an unfair request of her.

This adult was someone devoted to students. A truth descended upon this world.

He wasn’t someone who would sacrifice a student’s happiness for his own gain, nor would he intentionally harm students. He didn’t hide his contempt for “adults” who physically or psychologically dominated and exploited students.

Before the Advisor Teacher of Schale were two choices. One was to sacrifice the happiness of many for a single student, and the other was the opposite. To Sensei, the idea of the few for the many or the many for the few was utterly unreasonable.

…And perhaps Hikari, with her long-honed experience, had subtly realized this too. There had been enough time.

“Speak.”

“Hika… ri…”

The girl knew how admirable this adult was. A person worthy of such praise.

And so, she smiled brightly.

“Is it for Trinity? Or for Arius?”

“…”

“Speak as much as you like. Otherwise, what’s the point of you coming all this way, Sensei?”

It was her way of persuading him. Whatever it sounded like, her sincerity was genuine.

If it was sincerity enough for Sensei to recognize, that was enough. I know you’re not the type to speak the words of an incompetent person. Isn’t it worth at least the bullet you took for the Prefect Team Leader during the Eden Treaty Incident?

After a brief silence, just as Hikari was about to fall silent too, Sensei spoke.

Words for Arius.

No, words for the people of Arius.

At least, that’s what Hikari thought.

***

“You said to pardon them all?”

“…Yes.”

Haha, damn it. So much for my confident declaration.

It was a difficult matter. A difficult request. It was a call to cause an unprecedented disruption since the academy’s founding. It might resolve more simply than expected, as past crises have, but the small girl named Yamatsu Hikari didn’t have the confidence to untie that knot.

The fate of the Arius Branch was decided just a few days ago. The Military Administration was established, and I was “placed” at its head.

There’s been a lot of debate about this. With an undecided fate forcibly put on hold, some argue for incorporating Arius into Trinity’s administrative district, while others say it’s absurd to take in heretics and that we should give up.

Fundamentalism. Some dismiss it as mere complaints from a faction of the Sisterhood, something to brush off. But isn’t the Sisterhood a massive organization? When a pig grows too large, even its tail is long.

The unity of a tiny faction is often ignored, naturally.

But the small voice of a faction far larger than imaginable carries, of course, greater influence. They’re the descendants of giants who once focused on crushing Arius.

They’ll scatter someday. One word from Nagisa-sama would silence them. Let’s think that way.

“…Hoo.”

Here’s a question.

If Arius’s fate is this complicated, how long will it take to decide the fate of “Arius students”?

Answer: Until we die!

“I’m not sure… if I have the authority to pardon them all. To pardon everyone, we’d have to put them all on trial, and realistically…”

“I’m sorry. I really am, Hikari. But I also felt I had to say it.”

Sensei’s eyes were unusually serious.

What am I supposed to do when you say it like that… Ugh, personally, I still haven’t let go of my resentment toward the name Arius. When will this damned problem be resolved?

People aren’t rational beings. Especially women, and I know I’m no exception.

Speaking as a girl who gets angry easily and sometimes chokes up, if I met an Arius student, I’d probably point a gun at them first. I’d want to fire buckshot and beat them senseless in the name of revenge for Nagisa-sama.

The only reason I’m here is because Nagisa-sama wished it. This Military Administration isn’t for “Arius students” who oppose Trinity but for refugees who want an extra ladle or two of soup four times a day.

Yamatsu Hikari is the Proxy of Trinity. Personally and officially, it’s not yet time to forgive.

How do I even talk about this?

I’m not good with words. Probably… yeah, probably. If I had a talent for it, I’d have succeeded in politics from the start, riding a path to glory, not stuck in a backwater checkpoint because of a food budget shortage.

…

Let’s just be honest.

“Sensei.”

I spoke to the man before me, who seemed to be mulling over his words.

“Do you know about the person who bears responsibility?”

“…”

“I’m a high-ranking Trinity official. I’ve heard about the things you said in Abydos, in Millennium. An adult who takes responsibility for children’s suffering… Pfft, it’s practically a famous quote.”

An ideal person. An ideal “adult,” someone we’d call an idol. Subjectively and objectively.

I’ve met Hoshino-senpai. Recently… to be precise, right after the Eden Treaty Incident. We spent a lot of time talking. I couldn’t understand why Abydos Autonomous District deserved such recognition—especially with the student council’s approval.

Senpai teased me with the heavy title of “Trinity Proxy” but spoke honestly. Well… it seems the “Abydos Urban Battle” circulating online was true.

Schale’s Advisor Teacher took immense risks to save Senpai.

…Right.

That’s enough. If you’d sacrifice your future for a student you barely know, that’s enough.

“Sensei, you’re someone worthy of respect. Your words just now were probably for the Arius students, right?”

“…Yes.”

“But Sensei, I…”

I’m not a dementia patient. I remember everything clearly. Everything.

“I still vividly see the cruise missile flying toward the High Cathedral.”

It was the day of the Eden Treaty Incident.

“I still clearly remember rescuing a student from the burning High Cathedral.”

That was the same day.

“I vividly recall an Arius Branch student ambushing the checkpoint, trying to kill me.”

That was… four days later, I think.

“I often think the night I led the checkpoint troops to the Tea Party feels like yesterday.”

Eight days later.

“I still carry the worry that maybe the Fire Chief couldn’t save a student when we launched the offensive.”

More than ten days.

“The glorious memory of you appearing with Hoshino-senpai while the Arius Branch fled—I’ll never forget it.”

Fifteen days.

“Sensei, I remember everything. All of it. It hasn’t been long, and everyone suffered.”

“…Right.”

Sensei, you’re undoubtedly a righteous person. But here’s the thing.

“I believe the ones who must bear responsibility aren’t just adults.”

His eyes met mine.

“…”

I brushed it off as a trick of the mind, but I thought his eyes were trembling.