[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 37

Late afternoon, the Tea Party Hall.

Exchanging tea in a historic cultural landmark towering above the clear sky is surely an experience reserved for only a handful of students.

But that’s only true when the reason for the visit is benign. The current situation, the reason I’ve set foot in this place, is far from trivial. According to the administrator, she considers my report on par with a clandestine meeting with the Pandemonium Society’s chair.

On the table, where only a glass teapot filled with black tea sits, lie a few sheets of paper.

The cover, emblazoned with the twenty-seven characters of “Trinity General Academy Border Checkpoint and Federal Investigation Club <S.C.H.A.L.E> Joint Training Report” and the Trinity General Academy crest, succinctly explains the document’s purpose.

Nagisa-sama, seated across from me, has been silently reading the report I handed her, staring at the same page for a good ten minutes. In the vast Tea Party Hall, not even the sound of flipping pages breaks the stillness.

What does she think of me?

Let’s think about this. If I were the head of the Filius faction and the Tea Party host, how would I view myself?

She’s likely built a solid network over years of working in the same club, but she’s also accumulated grievances from her long tenure as a director. Right after being promoted to department head, she aggressively pushed for military expansion, making her stance clear.

An ordinary student would probably think, Oh, that girl loves the academy so much she’s determined to crush every academy that dares attack us. Or, if they’re more cynical, they might suspect she’s using it as an excuse to siphon off budget funds.

I can say with certainty: Nagisa-sama is entertaining the most foolish assumptions imaginable.

Suspicion, to put it simply, isn’t paranoia. With her calculating and analytical personality, there’s no way she’s mentally unstable. As Trinity’s most political student, Nagisa-sama must believe her suspicions about me are rational.

And I have no idea how to explain myself. Maybe I should just close my eyes, kidnap a Gehenna student from the border, drag them to the Tea Party Hall, and beat them senseless in front of her to clear my name. In other words, impossible.

I’m at a complete loss.

What am I supposed to do?

Tap.

Unbeknownst to me, Nagisa-sama flipped to the last page of the report and then returned it to the first.

“The report is excellent. It more than meets the standards set by the Tea Party Hall. Good work, Hikari-san.”

“Thank you. I owe a lot to Morishita-san.”

“I know Morishita-san. I thought she’d stay with the Tea Party forever, but… she slipped away in the end.” Well, I’m very glad Sayuri-san did. She’s helped me a lot.

Nagisa-sama poured black tea into an empty cup and placed it in front of me.

In a normal situation, a student in my position would be overwhelmed with gratitude, but knowing how she views me, I can’t take this gesture at face value. It’s unlikely, but I half-expect the tea to be laced with poison or some radioactive isotope.

She’s the kind of person who’d do that for the sake of the academy, or so she believes.

I took a cautious sip. Thankfully, it was just high-quality chamomile tea.

It’s just my mood making the tea taste bitter.

“…To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to discuss training during our meeting. The Tea Party has traditionally respected the autonomy of the Border Checkpoint’s training. Personal feelings aside, I do acknowledge your capabilities, Hikari-san.”

“So—”

“But, unfortunately, that doesn’t alleviate my concerns about you.”

Nagisa-sama looked me straight in the eyes and said:

“I suspect you’re planning a coup. I believe you’re aware of this.”

“I won’t deny it.”

“As expected.”

“And I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything.”

That’s the plain truth. Have I ever been dissatisfied with Trinity’s system itself?

If I have any complaints, it’s about the current reality of being under baseless suspicion. I’d been worried about this for a while, but hearing it to my face feels like a punch to the back of my head. It’s like I’m about to be handcuffed for no reason.

Despite my inner turmoil, Nagisa-sama continued without pause.

“You haven’t done anything? It seems like quite a lot to me. Let’s go through it.”

“Nagisa-sama, wait—”

“I trusted you enough to nominate you as Itsuka-san’s successor. And you, as if waiting for the chance, requested to restore the Border Checkpoint’s personnel numbers, which we’d just reduced. I granted it because I trusted you.”

“…And?”

“Then I received your written vacation request. It’s reasonable for someone in a department head position, with its heavy workload, to take a break to relieve stress. You’d been promoted to chief less than a month prior, but I didn’t mind. And then you went to Millennium and came back with the most advanced self-propelled artillery Trinity has ever seen.”

“…”

“What came next? Oh, right, you requested an enormous supplementary budget. I assumed it was for repairs to the checkpoint and other outposts. I approved it, only to watch all that budget go toward expanding the Border Checkpoint’s forces. Rumor has it that the sudden collapse of Gehenna’s checkpoint was due to your surprise artillery strike.”

“Hmph.”

“No response? It wasn’t a big deal, but still. I want an explanation for all of this, Hikari-san. This meeting is, in effect, an informal hearing.”

“Not even a proper hearing room, no scribe, just Nagisa-sama’s judgment deciding my fate?”

“Exactly.”

So that was her plan all along.

It’s astonishing that she remembers every detail. Of course, these were major incidents, so I remember them vividly too. But they’re hardly enough to convict me of treason.

So what is Nagisa-sama trying to say? Is the Tea Party, the Tea Party Hall, warning me that they’re watching my every move? Telling me to behave because my actions don’t suit a department head is too harsh an interpretation.

Maybe she’s afraid.

“You’d do well to explain everything here.”

“Of course I will. In fact, I was about to. Nagisa-sama, the rapid expansion of the Checkpoint was essential for border defense. Because of the Eden Treaty’s downsizing, Itsuka-senpai and I had to face enemy artillery and surprise attacks with our bare hands.”

“I’m well aware that discontent was rife within the Border Checkpoint. But that was to maintain relations with Gehenna Academy and to show a bit more goodwill. I thought you’d understand, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

“Of course. We were being used as pawns for the Tea Party’s policies. Nagisa-sama, when I was still a deputy, the Checkpoint was using L85s. We’re still using L85s and SA80s. Even when the Justice Task Force’s support platoon, sent during Gehenna’s attacks, switched to EM-2s, the Checkpoint didn’t even have a single squad support weapon. We had to use Maxim machine guns gathering dust in the warehouse. Did you know that?”

“Then you should’ve allocated the supplementary budget more efficiently. You should’ve contracted better firearms and informed me. Instead, I want to know where the remaining 30% of the funds went after you bought the artillery.”

“Nagisa-sama, tanks and artillery are just moving scrap without ammunition. I traded those shitty rifles for 100,000 6.1-inch high-explosive shells. When I went to request a budget for new standard rifles, do you know what the Pater faction said? They said, ‘Isn’t the Checkpoint’s goal to be the Tea Party’s doormat?’ I got cursed out like that and didn’t get a single penny.”

“I’ve heard that story. But the budget isn’t infinite, Hikari-san. You should’ve considered that.”

“And what I got was 70% of the Justice Task Force’s budget, Nagisa-sama. That was after I pushed hard for expansion. Even so, the Checkpoint’s budget is pitiful compared to its scale.”

“So we’re back to budget talk. You’re cleverly avoiding the answers I want and emphasizing your own points. I’m done hearing about budgets.”

“But, Nagisa-sama…”

“The Tea Party of Trinity General Academy must remain neutral, as must I. We can’t keep siding with the checkpoint, which is practically emerging as a new political entity.”

“Because you suspect us.”

“I know how to separate personal and professional matters, Hikari-san. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have approved your expansion requests.”

I tried to turn the tables with some clever reasoning, but damn it, I just got my head bashed in.

The conversation keeps circling. My desperate appeals to the budget are because it’s genuinely hard to explain this. Why bother racking my brain for excuses when Nagisa-sama won’t believe me anyway?

That she’s shutting me down from the start, demanding explanations, means she completely distrusts me. She can’t even say, “You’re doing great with those shitty rifles,” so there’s no way she’s friendly.

It hasn’t even been a few minutes, and I’m already exhausted. She’s still talking.

“…So, Hikari-san, you should’ve been more prudent. After that incident, there were calls within the Tea Party for severe punishment. I sided with the neutral faction, so you got off lightly, but if I hadn’t…”

Every word carries a warning.

“I could’ve crushed you if I wanted to. Why don’t you get that? Why do you keep acting so aggressively, ignoring your place? I don’t understand you, and I don’t want to.” That’s the message I’m getting. It might be a defense mechanism born of fear, but my head’s already at its limit before I can think that far.

Goddamn it.

Should I just quit everything and lock myself at home? Or better yet, get sent to the Supplementary Lessons Department. At least they don’t hold hearings like this. Compared to the cutthroat atmosphere of the Tea Party Hall, the Supplementary Lessons clubroom is paradise.

Or maybe, just maybe… I should do exactly what Nagisa-sama suspects—

Bang!

I slammed my fist into my head with all my strength. Nagisa-sama nearly dropped her teacup in shock.

“…What was that?”

“Nothing. Just a headache.”

What the hell was I just thinking?

You crazy bastard, do you realize how dangerous that thought was? No matter how much she looks down on you, do you think a public servant can harbor such thoughts? Do you want to see Trinity implode?

Get a grip. Please.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. Nagisa-sama, noticing my distress, stayed silent for a while.

As my breathing stabilized, my brain, now supplied with steady oxygen, started working again. The situation: an informal hearing, damned suspicions—just suspicions. And Nagisa-sama stopped mid-sentence.

Alright.

“I’m sorry about that, Nagisa-sama. Where were we?”

“You seem to have recovered. I was just talking about the Supplementary Lessons Department. As I mentioned to Sensei, this term’s Supplementary Lessons is different—it’s to find the cat in the box…”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘cat’?”

“A metaphor, if you will. You may not know, but the Tea Party Hall is rife with rumors of a ‘traitor.’ Someone trying to sabotage the Eden Treaty and ruin everything.”

“And what does that have to do with the Supplementary Lessons Department?”

Nagisa-sama sighed deeply, muttering, “All my words so far have been in vain.”

I took another sip of the tea. It tasted a bit sweeter than when I first arrived.

“Since we don’t know who the traitor is, we’ve put all the suspects in the Supplementary Lessons Department.”

“So, Nagisa-sama, you think you can identify them by throwing them into one club?”

“That’s why the exam exists. If they don’t meet a certain score, they’ll be expelled.”

“Oh, I see… Wait, what?”

My head, still slightly dizzy, suddenly cleared.

Did I just hear something I was never supposed to hear, or are my ears malfunctioning?

“Nagisa-sama, I think I misheard. Did you say ‘expelled’?”

“Yes. Students in the Supplementary Lessons Department who fail to meet the conditions will be expelled.”

Nagisa-sama repeated the word calmly, as if it carried no weight.

Swallowing the curse rising in my throat, I thought to myself:

Goddamn it, maybe I’m not the problem after all.