[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 6

They teach us in school that time is relative. The elderly folks at the cathedral’s community center often say how fast time flies. I think that’s one piece of evidence for that Dr—what was his name, Manstein?—theory of relativity. Time flows endlessly, never stopping until its moment comes, and it changes Trinity.

However, if there are some things that do not change, one of them must be faith. Trinity Comprehensive Academy was founded long ago to resolve conflicts among those of the same religion, caused by differences in factional interpretations. As such, almost all students visit the cathedral weekly to pray to God.

Being a checkpoint commander isn’t a job that allows for that. Ritsuko-chan and Sayuri-san can make time to go to the cathedral, but as someone managing one of the few entry and exit points to Gehenna Academy, leaving the checkpoint unmanned to attend mass is practically an act of treason.

That said, I can’t stop Ritsuko-chan or Sayuri-san from going to the cathedral, can I? They probably have friends in the Sisterhood they only see there. I should help them enjoy the weekly joy of meeting friends.

So, what I’m trying to say is—it’s Sunday morning right now.

The checkpoint is empty. The kids are at mass, so they won’t be back until evening. Iroha-chan called earlier, saying she’s tied up with a Pandemonium Society meeting today and can’t drop by. Honestly, the Pandemonium Society is Gehenna’s student council, but what kind of meeting could they have at their level? Other than discussing Iroha-chan’s photo collection or pudding quotas, what else is there?

She’ll probably show up by evening, sipping cocoa.

I’m listening to the radio. The folks working at the cathedral aren’t fools, and many are quite tech-savvy for their generation. They produce radio broadcasts, TV programs, and even do interviews with Chronos sometimes. There’s a TV on the break room wall, but watching it would defeat the purpose of guarding the checkpoint, so I’m alone in the guardroom, listening to the mass broadcast.

“…My, we have a lot of visitors today too. How are you doing, Sister? Hinata-san, don’t fall asleep again, haha.”

It’s a radio broadcast from a small cathedral next to the Cathedral of Holy Communions, but the priest’s faction seems slightly different from the mainstream ones. Their mass focuses more on sermons than others. They spend more time on the words and prayers compared to other cathedrals. The collection of offerings is the same, though.

Ahem. Anyway, since the Cathedral of Holy Communions is usually closed, a lot of students flock to this one. The kids say they prefer quieter cathedrals nearby—or they’ve ditched entirely. If it’s the latter, they’re in for it.

“I love you all… Yes, today is a good day. A blessed day. A beautiful day. On this bright and wonderful Sunday, we’ve all gathered here to hold mass. Let’s greet the person next to us. It’s a good day.”

“It’s a good day…”

Saying it aloud when there’s no one next to me feels a bit surreal, but it’s probably just my imagination. Honestly, I think the priest’s faction interprets the scriptures and mass quite differently from the mainstream. Like, really differently. The word “Sunday” itself, for starters, and the fact that they don’t do silent prayer at the beginning but after the sermon—there’s a lot like that when you listen to the mass. I worry I’d get in trouble if the Sisterhood came by for an inspection.

But it’s probably fine. When I asked the priest last time, he said they were the Johannes faction. It’s the first time I’d heard of it in my life. Apparently, before the academy was formed, there were many small factions like this, but most minor ones died out unless they were major. He said his faction is one of the few mentioned in the records of the First Council, which is why it’s survived this long. The Knight Order used to be a central part of the faction before they joined Trinity through the alliance. 

Still, this cathedral is the only Johannes one left, and he bitterly remarked that if he doesn’t train a successor and dies, it’ll be the end of it.

“Today’s gospel is probably familiar to many students. It’s about paradise, and as for where that is…”

I opened the scriptures, wet my finger, and turned the page. The mass should be over in about an hour. I’ll have to drop a big offering when I go later.

Today is a peaceful day.

Ring-ring! Ring-ring!

Not long after the mass ended, the phone rang. Not just any phone—an emergency line directly connected to the Tea Party. That means it’s a damn important call. Look, the phone’s red light is flashing like crazy.

Click.

“Checkpoint Chief speaking.”

“This is the Tea Party… Is this Yamatsu Hikari-san?”

“Yes.”

“Go outside. Kirifuji Nagisa-sama is on her way.”

The call cut off abruptly after that irresponsible announcement, with no regard for my situation. Nagisa-sama is coming again? The Tea Party host, one of only a handful among Trinity’s tens of thousands of students, is coming here? And Sayuri-san, who’s good at buttering people up, isn’t even here? This is bad.

Why is she coming? Did Gehenna declare they’re sending tanks through here or something? Or did they find out about the mess we caused in D.U. last time? I wrote a proper report for that and sent it to the Tea Party after learning my lesson from the disciplinary letter! No matter how I think about it, I can’t figure out why, and it’s making me anxious. Really anxious.

With a troubled heart, I stepped outside the guardroom and saw a few cars approaching the clearing behind the checkpoint. There was something heavy-looking loaded in the back—what could it be? Are they installing new iron bars at the checkpoint or something?

A limousine stopped in front of me, and I personally opened the door. Nagisa-sama was seated in the back. As always, she exuded a kind yet intimidating aura, like she could smash my head with an axe. The Kirifuji bloodline doesn’t mess around.

“Loyalty, Gehenna Sector 13th Checkpoint Commander, Yamatsu Hiraki—”

“I know who you are, so let’s skip that. And no need for the gunfire salute either. I have a lot to discuss, Hikari-san.”

…Did I just say “Hiraki”? Hikari, Hiraki—it’s easy to mix up the pronunciation, but the problem is that’s my name. Oh no, how nervous am I? I’m losing it. Mom, save me!

“Where are Ritsuko-san and Sayuri-san?”

“They went to attend mass. It’s, uh… Sunday—no, the Sabbath, right?”

“…Sunday? That’s a new one. Which faction are you part of?”

“The Lutheran faction.”

“That’s really new to me.”

Why is she suddenly asking about factions? Hopefully, she’s just curious or making small talk, but still…

A wave of fear hit me. It’s almost delusional, but I couldn’t help wondering if Nagisa-sama was planning to raid the cathedral like some kind of inquisition, rooting out Johannes factions and arresting them all. It’s a ridiculous thought, really.

Thankfully, I’m a realist, so I managed to push the fear out of my head soon after. As if the Tea Party, the pinnacle of Trinity’s student council, would actually do something like that to hunt down heretics. If they did, it’d be all over the records.

“…Uh, how about we go inside to talk…?”

“That’s a good idea. Is it alright if the other Tea Party members come in to rest for a bit?”

“Of course, yes, absolutely, yes. Really.”

As soon as she said that, several students who looked like they were from the Tea Party got out of the limousine and truck. One, two… five of them. With a security detail, there’d easily be more, but there’s no security detail now. Do they really need five people to accompany Nagisa-sama?

Maybe that huge thing covered in cloth on the truck is just that heavy. It could be a radar system or a machine gun. It doesn’t look like a tank from its shape.

With Nagisa-sama watching, I opened the break room door with trembling hands. The break room feels unusually spacious today. I don’t know if I just never noticed or if I’m hallucinating from exhaustion. Nagisa-sama sat down first, and I made seven cups of cocoa for her and the Tea Party members.

Nagisa-sama quietly savored the cocoa. The other Tea Party kids were gulping it down, saying it was delicious. Meanwhile, I nearly spilled mine a few times. My hands were shaking, and I felt like I’d drop it, so I just chugged it in one go.

“This tastes great. Where did you get it?”

“I made it myself, uh, with cocoa powder and chocolate and stuff…”

Nagisa-sama looked slightly surprised, like she was thinking, ‘You made cocoa this good?’ Or maybe the exact opposite. I can only hope she meant it when she said it was good.

“This is really delicious. Honestly, I’d love to recommend it to Mika-san at the Tea Party”

“…I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Thank goodness, she meant it. Hooray! I should pack some cocoa powder and chocolate for her later—as a gift for a senior and a bit of a bribe to stay on her good side.

After finishing her cocoa, Nagisa-sama got to the main point.

“I have two things to discuss. First, congratulations on your promotion.”

“…I’m sorry, I must’ve misheard?”

Last time she came, Ritsuko-chan was the one who said this, but I didn’t expect it’d be me this time. A sudden “congratulations on your promotion” out of nowhere—what am I supposed to do with that? If a checkpoint chief gets promoted, the next rank up is checkpoint captain, overseeing all of Trinity’s checkpoints. But isn’t that position already filled? There are plenty of people who’ve worked longer than me, including a senior I know.

“You heard correctly. The Tea Party has appointed you, Yamatsu Hikari, as the Checkpoint Captain of Trinity General Academy. Congratulations again.”

“I don’t understand what you mean by suddenly becoming the checkpoint captain. Wasn’t my senior still working that role? Did they get fired for causing trouble or something?”

“If you’re referring to Itsuka-san, they came to the Tea Party this morning and resigned. From what I heard, there was an issue with their checkpoint. They said it was gone.”

“…Gehenna, huh?”

“You catch on quick.”

According to Nagisa-sama, attacks on checkpoints by Gehenna Academy have been increasing exponentially over the past few weeks, leading to many checkpoints being nominally withdrawn but effectively shut down. Instead of continuing to fight and take losses defending the academy borders, they decided to fortify and block the routes to minimize damage. As a result, the number of checkpoints, once around thirty, dwindled until only two remained as of yesterday.

Those two were the checkpoint headquarters, which the former captain couldn’t abandon, and the 13th Checkpoint, where the commander—me—beat up Gehenna students and held them hostage. But last night, the headquarters was destroyed in an attack. Now, only one checkpoint remains in the Gehenna sector—ours. And only one route to Gehenna is still open—the one through our checkpoint.

No matter how I look at it, this sounds like our checkpoint is about to face a lot more surprise attacks. If water is leaking from multiple holes and you block all but one, the water pressure through that one hole gets stronger. It’s obvious. Even if attacks were frequent from multiple directions, when they’re funneled into one, the defending side has to go all out.

The surrounding forest might mean Gehenna’s hit-and-run tactics won’t be too concentrated, but the fact that the intensity of attacks will increase at all is a problem. There are only three of us! If even one gets taken out, we lose a third of our strength. Maybe more, depending on how much I contribute.

“So, what should I do?”

“You’ll work as usual, but… the checkpoint captain has quite a bit more to do. You’ll need to visit the Tea Party more often. In return, there’ll be compensation for the added responsibility. But I don’t think it’ll be too much trouble. I believe Gehenna’s surprise attacks will decrease moving forward.”

“Let’s hope the Eden Treaty gets finalized properly.”

“Everyone in the Tea Party hopes so.”

Since the wars of the past, Trinity General Academy has faced countless small and large skirmishes. The most frequent opponent, of course, has been Gehenna Academy. When a school full of lunatics is neighbors with a school of refined ladies, the border is bound to be a mess. There have been so many clashes over time, it’s impossible to count.

The Eden Treaty is meant to end that. The details are highly confidential, so I don’t know much, but everyone in Trinity knows it’s a peace treaty with Gehenna Academy. I know it vaguely too. The day before yesterday, the newspaper said the treaty nearly fell apart when the Student Council President went missing, but Nagisa-sama supposedly dragged it back from the brink. Judging by her reaction, it doesn’t seem like propaganda.

I’m worried—mostly about my job, naturally. If the peace treaty is signed and some kind of treaty organization is formed, checkpoints will naturally disappear. Then how will I make a living? Maybe I could get a part-time job at Valkyrie… but that place is such a mess, I’d rather not. Also, why is it called the Eden Treaty? It’s not like we’re chasing some unattainable dream of eternal peace.

Since Nagisa-sama seemed to really like the cocoa, she asked one of the students she’d been chatting with to make another cup. I waited quietly, but it took so long that I went to check. The student was fussing over the mix, saying the proportions weren’t right and pouring milk this way and that. In the end, I had to make the cocoa again myself.

I gave the other students another round too. They loved it.

“The second thing I wanted to discuss—you’d better come outside to see it.”

Outside, huh? She’s probably talking about that mysterious thing covered in cloth. My curiosity, which I’d momentarily forgotten, came rushing back. What could it be? Like I thought earlier, maybe a radar system for the checkpoint? Or a missile launcher?

Following Nagisa-sama outside, I saw the Tea Party students uncovering the object. As the cloth came off, I got excited by the sight of a massive barrel. A nearly 4.5-meter-long barrel, wheels for mobility, and above all, a huge recoil mechanism.

It’s the L118, used exclusively by Trinity Comprehensive Academy’s Tea Party artillery unit. It can fire 105mm high-explosive shells every three seconds, raining down fire. And it only weighs 1.8 tons, so it’s mobile! At least, that’s what the checkpoint regulations say.

Why is something this valuable being sent to a backwater like this? It’s practically a privilege. I’m thrilled—those Gehenna punks won’t stand a chance against this. Even a 15cm howitzer would be no match. What a joyful day.

“This isn’t a decision from the Tea Party—it’s from my personal artillery unit. Consider it a special gift, or a promotion present.”

“Can I really accept this? I won’t get in trouble for corruption or anything, right?”

“I’ll take responsibility.”

I’ve never heard Nagisa-sama say she’d take responsibility for anything before, but hearing it now feels so reassuring. With the Tea Party host of Trinity General Academy backing me, who’d dare accuse Yamatsu Hikari of being a corrupt checkpoint captain?

…Thinking like this makes me sound like a student hiding actual corruption.

“For ammunition, you should be able to buy it in D.U.”

“There’s nothing you can’t find in D.U. Worst case, I’ll hit the black mar—er, the market. But this gift is so big, I don’t know what to do with myself. Thank you so much.”

Nagisa-sama seemed to smile a little at my thanks. Giving a tiny gift and seeing me bow and thank her profusely must feel nice. She’s like a grandma—oh, that’s an insult, isn’t it?

“Uh, Nagisa-sama, we need to head back now. Your tea gathering with Mika-sama…”

“Oh, prepare to leave immediately. I should get going. Don’t forget to stop by the Tea Party once a month for regular reports.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I tried to say something else, but “yes, ma’am” just slipped out instinctively. Maybe it’s because I just got promoted and it hasn’t sunk in yet, but I feel like I have to keep responding like that.

Nagisa-sama left. She keeps doing this—showing up out of nowhere, talking for a couple of hours, and then leaving just as suddenly. Is that what it’s like to live as a national leader with a packed schedule? That’s why I like middle management—you can live moderately. Climb too high, and you get too busy.

But you got promoted, didn’t you, Hikari-san? You’re screwed if you slack off now. You’ve got to do well as checkpoint captain and not get fired by your third year. You’ll be writing reports all night, getting called to events, and drinking instant coffee instead of cocoa.

“…This isn’t a good thing, is it?”

I just realized while thinking it over—I should probably look for another job by my third year. Before I die from overwork.