[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Chapter 75

The Tea Party didn’t take any action.

They couldn’t. There wasn’t a single thing they could justify.

Justification?

Even the host acknowledged that the commander’s actions were appropriate, so what could the underlings do?

Means?

Was there any guarantee that the scale of the Knight Order or the commander’s strength could be subdued without bloodshed?

Will?

I’ll say it twice. If even the host gave up, what could be done?

The student council president was sufficiently satisfied with the news of a friend’s survival and decided not to bear the political burden comparable to the Arius incident. With the border checkpoint’s position far from stable if the situation escalated, there was no choice but to agree.

The Sanctus faction still believes the Tea Party is completely unaware of this fact. The communications chief has been sending a ton of MomoTalk messages lately, but that’s just to vent about their tough workload, not to probe me for suspicions.

Even a gentle ripple isn’t needed right now. Nagisa-sama knows this well, and so do I.

No news has reached the Tea Party president. Innocent administrators, unaware of how last year’s events have turned into a thorny political issue. They’re busy processing the endless stream of paperwork every other day.

Personally, I think a letter should be sent to Commander Mine. If we know about them, they should know about us too. I’ve realized that a lack of information can easily lead to misunderstandings.

As for the Tea Party… Nagisa-sama will handle it well. Aside from the Sanctus faction’s involved parties, only a few students know the truth.

My will doesn’t matter. Whether to make it public is entirely up to the student council president.

What’s certain is that the vast majority of the Tea Party president’s circle still knows nothing. And they likely have no desire to know.

Today, too, incense was offered at Seia-sama’s portrait.

The candle, exhaling smoke in the progressive space, remains silent.

***

The matter concerning the Supplementary Lessons Department and Seia-sama has been settled. It may still weigh heavily on Nagisa-sama’s heart, but for me, at least, it’s resolved. The head of the border checkpoint should focus on defense, not meddling in politics.

The Arius students at the checkpoint seem to be doing fairly well. They were released right after Shirasu-san’s investigation, though there was a brief commotion when some tried to return to their cells, fearing the “Madam” would kill them.

Lately, though… they seem a bit corrupted.

“Look, I’ve told you all a million times, you can’t break into the ammo depot during hide-and-seek! If someone lights a match in there thinking it’s too dark, forget the Madam—we’d all be dead!”

“But what are we supposed to do when there’s nowhere to hide? Even if we climb onto the roof, they find us easily!”

“Then just get caught! I don’t believe Arius Branch trained you to climb cedar trees for hide-and-seek. I can overlook other things, but dangerous behavior is unacceptable. Keep it up, and hide-and-seek is banned!”

“Y-Yes, ma’am…”

Trying to rein in the chaotic morale at the checkpoint headquarters.

Apparently, Arius Branch has so little to do that games like hide-and-seek or tag have become their main focus. I can let it slide when administrators set up mahjong tables in the middle of the Tea Party, but danger is danger.

A few days ago, when I came back early from work, a game of tag was in full swing. Most of the working students were forcibly locked in the break room while they hurled smoke bombs and tear gas to escape from a single seeker. Watching them, I couldn’t help but think:

Are our friends not students with halos but monkeys?

No final decision has been made regarding the students. Seeing as Nagisa-sama, who knows the situation best, hasn’t said a word, it seems she wants to maintain the status quo for now.

Following her lead—discreetly, not excessively—is the duty of a loyal subordinate, isn’t it? I’m planning to work with Nagato-senpai to enroll them in Trinity General Academy. No one will notice.

Just in case, I considered the possibility of an assassination by the “Madam” that the Arius Branch students fear so much, but it seems unlikely.

This isn’t just blind confidence. The counterintelligence network Nagato-senpai has barely established shows no significant movements worth monitoring, and no warnings have come from the communications office either. I’ve stationed artillery units just in case, though.

The biggest issue looming is Eden. I can’t even recall how many weeks are left, but I know my MomoTalk calendar pings with reminders daily.

The decision to conceal Seia-sama’s survival ensures political stability, but the risks are still far too many. Personally, I’d love to declare martial law during the treaty signing ceremony, but that’s not happening.

That would cause more than just a stir in politics.

Considering my public image, not only Hanako but even Nagisa-sama might start suspecting me.

But, damn it, I’m so uneasy. Call it a soldier’s intuition, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to go down. When I vented to Sayuri-san and a few friends from the Eight-Member Committee, they had similar reactions.

I want to believe it’ll work out somehow… but thinking like that has never led to anything good. When Nagisa-sama personally promoted me, I thought it was just a temporary position, one I’d be replaced in after a few days. The Tea Party’s position was nonexistent back then.

And yet, here I am, grinding away months later.

“…”

Should I write a resignation letter?

“If you’re seriously considering it, let me know. It’d make for a great scoop.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have your contact info, Mitsuki-san… Wait, what?!”

What the hell?

“Why are you here?”

“Looking for a scoop. You still haven’t answered my question, Yamatsu-san.”

“What question?”

“About the Arius students.”

She’s still holding onto that story? The Sisterhood seemed to buy my explanation, but damn, I forgot about her.

“Even when I went to the cathedral, I got a lukewarm response. The intelligence chief wouldn’t even grant me an interview. That’s suspicious, isn’t it?”

“I told you clearly, I haven’t killed any students. It’s been days without incident, so why are you trying to pin me as a murderer?”

“What can I say? Your public image speaks for itself, Yamatsu-san. The Chronos students still remember how you called the press room and caused a scene. Your reputation isn’t exactly stellar at Chronos, even if it’s fine elsewhere.”

“Forget that and just remember I didn’t kill anyone, Mitsuki-san. Next time, get permission before showing up.”

“The press doesn’t care about permissions.”

“And the border checkpoint doesn’t care about press freedom.”

Mitsuki-san didn’t seem to take my warning seriously.

I turned my head, and the chaotic checkpoint, still in the midst of a wild game of tag, came into view. The Arius students were leaping between buildings using grappling hooks. Those were stashed in the corner of the warehouse—when did they get those?

“…Oh?”

Huh?

That sound. It’s the sound effect Mitsuki-san makes when she’s found a scoop.

“I’m busy, Mitsuki-san. I don’t have time today, so come back later—”

“Those are some unfamiliar faces.”

“…”

I had to pretend I didn’t hear her.

The veteran reporter, reading my intentions perfectly, stepped forward and locked eyes with me.

“Unfamiliar faces, Yamatsu-san?”

“…”

Goddamn it.

Damn it.

***

Checkpoint Headquarters.

Room 131.

The room where Matsushiro-san and other students’ screams once echoed.

The reporter stared at the flickering incandescent bulb, breathing in the stale air, and clicked her tongue.

“Tch, clicking your tongue like that will bring bad luck for the rest of the day.”

“No scoop, huh? If it’s the checkpoint’s basement, shouldn’t there be bloodstains or something?”

“What kind of place do you think the checkpoint is? You can write whatever else, but don’t write fiction.”

Chronos folks have this fantasy about Trinity General Academy. Like how the cathedral’s basement is filled with screams of students having their nails pulled out, or how they mixed in troublesome students when pouring the checkpoint’s walls. It’s a long-standing tradition of rumors, and I have no idea what sparked them. Someone even got dragged away for claiming Nagisa brews tea with students’ bathwater in front of the Tea Party.

“…You know why I brought you here, right?”

“Of course. You’re trying to intimidate me into not exposing those kids, right?”

“I never said those kids were from Arius Branch.”

“That’s what I should be asking you, isn’t it?”

Mitsuki-san doesn’t back down an inch. I don’t know why her three years of experience translate into arrogance, but as one of the most senior students at Chronos School, she’s got a veteran’s confidence.

Chasing gossip means sticking her nose into every unrelated place, looking for something interesting. It might seem trivial to others, but to those involved… it’s kind of a pain in the ass.

“Think about it. Even if those kids are from Arius Branch, I haven’t imprisoned them or anything. They’re eating well, resting well. If you write that I tortured them, that’s fake news.”

“I’m not planning to write that anymore. Just the fact that Arius students are at the checkpoint is interesting enough.”

“You’re saying that to my face?”

“Who else should I say it to?”

Is she mocking me?

But both she and I know how this situation needs to play out.

“…Let’s say you let this slide, Mitsuki-san. What do you want?”

“Now we’re talking.”

Mitsuki-san pulled a chair close and propped her chin on her hand.

“Look, Yamatsu-san. From now on, I’m the exclusive reporter for the checkpoint.”

“…”

This jerk?

“Fine, whatever. I guess you’re okay with those kids’ pictures on Chronos’ front page tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Damn it.