“That’s a wrap! Great job, everyone! We can close the books on We the Waiting of Broken Sons. Very well done!”

“All that’s left for this segment is to use real props and effects. Good. We’re still on schedule.”

Trisha applauded the crew as Anne tapped away at her clipboard with a pen. Just like any production, they practiced segments of the musical that were organized into blocks separated by major transitions. Especially for musicals, it was common for segments to be labelled by a mash-up of the names of the songs in it.

Caius and Mayumi were sweating at the centre of the stage, clearly working up a storm playing their roles. A grinning Trisha brought the stars their towels and water bottles as the rest of the crew wound down.

“Trisha, you really do run a tight shift here, eh?”

“Of course I have to. How can we deliver an incomplete show to our audience?”

“Caius is just not used to doing so many retakes in a row. I, for one, have experienced this many times before. Trisha, you’re doing exactly what’s needed.”

“Hahaha, Mayumi, thanks for the encouragement.”

Their grins were even wider and laughter followed, lighting up the saintly aura around them. Caius had to squint his eyes in the face of this blinding brightness. He let out a breath of relief.

While the students involved in that segment were rehearsing at the Assembly Hall’s main stage, on the upper floor of the backstage were a couple of folks from the lights team and Cecilia, who was teaching those two first-years how to use the newly-purchased autolight.

“This is the instruction set reference here for this autolight. It’s pretty standard and straightforward, so you just have to print the correct circle sequence on catalyzed paper from the alchemy lab’s typewriter and put it in here.”

She pointed to a slot in the machine that accepted printed transmutation circles, like how a motorized computing machine would accept punch cards.

“You can prepare all the circles beforehand. Insert them during each of the transitions, and it’ll execute on it for you. All the parameters like directions, colours, light intensity, etc. will be defined in the circles.”

Cecilia put into the autolight the cardboard in her hand that had a circle on it. Immediately, the autolight turned on and flickered between different colours and brightness.

“If you take out the cata-paper in the middle of it running, it’ll just stop and reset itself, like so. If you want to pause it, fast-forward or backtrack, there are simple play controls here. If you want to make it so that it starts executing from the middle of the sequence rather than the start, remember how circles work normally. You just need to use a pen to scratch off everything up to the point you need it to start. That’ll mean you should print out several copies of each circle you make, for backup measures.”

Cata-paper, or catalyst paper, were manufactured with impurities made from alchemical catalysts, which allowed it to be used as a medium for transmutation circles to work. Its invention many centuries ago permitted low-level alchemy to be disseminated to the general public, just as the invention of the printing press had allowed the dissemination of information to the general public. In the past, one would need a whole, complete catalyst for circles to work, which were generally stones. Needless to say, designing circles on stones was much more of a laborious effort than on paper.

“That’s about it. Besides operating it on cue during the performance, you just need to prepare the correct sequences for this autolight, which is supposed to be the main centre light. Does that make sense? Kenny? Joshua?”

The two men looked at each other with cluelessness evident in their expressions. Cecilia sighed.

“Where’s Liam, by the way? Isn’t the whole light team supposed to be here today? It’s Tuesday.”

“Uh… Liam said he’s going to the racetrack today, and he told us two to just show up.”

“Yeah. He said there isn’t anything we need to do except show up, because he said there’s only work to do for the light team in the final two weeks when everyone is doing full rehearsals here in the Assembly Hall.”

Cecilia grimaced. By the looks of things, Liam’s light team would drag their feet as always, and these two newbies did not look like they understood what she just taught them to do. She shook her head in disappointment.

“Then, did he say when he’ll show up?”

“Yes, he said he’ll come in those last two weeks. In the meantime, he’ll just send people like us to Tuesday’s all-hands-on-deck meeting.”

She rubbed her eyebrows in fatigue. She would have to do this every Tuesday to make sure the light team understood how to operate the new autolight in Liam’s absence.

“Okay. Tell me which parts of the autolight configuration you don’t understand, and I’ll go over it again with you.”

They nodded timidly, still wearing their clueless expressions.

“Then—”

Suddenly, a very loud noise interrupted the entire drama department. It was the familiar sound of a prop falling over onto the wooden stage floor, but it was immediately followed by a just-as-familiar shrill shriek of shock and pain.

“Mayumi!”

Caius was the first to react, rushing over to flip over the fallen wood that was a part of the two-storey skeletal platform used by Tommy to address the mob crowd. He was able to clear the debris quickly and Mayumi seemed to be in good spirits, yet he was more flustered and agitated than the victim herself.

“Are you okay, Mayumi? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Caius, I’m okay. It’ll only be bruises. Nothing feels out of the ordinary.”

Mayumi had leaned into one of its many support poles that gave way a little too easily, causing her to fall inwards and under the platform. The splinters caused a few more support pieces to fall on top of her right after. She was fortunate that the platform itself didn’t collapse entirely on top of her, though with this many support poles it shouldn’t collapse with just the few now missing. And because she was short, she avoided falling into the support poles on the other side.

“Are you sure? What about the fall? Does your head hurt? Can you get up? Do you think you can walk? Let’s go to the infirmary to get you looked at. Here, let me carry you.”

“Caius! I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much! You’re overreacting! Stop! I don’t need to be carried!”

She resisted against the panicking Caius, trying to prove to him that she was really okay by stepping out of the incident’s point zero by herself and in emphatic manner. Caius froze along with his worried panic on his face as Mayumi stood proudly before him.

“See? Fit as a fiddle.”

When she finally got a good look, Mayumi could see the blank fear and worry in his eyes, and the light smile faded from her face. She recognized the familiar expression, and just as she did, Caius hurriedly caught her in his embrace.

“What an idiot. Dontchu ever learn to not worry me?”

“You guys are too overprotective. I’m a strong lass now.”

Caius’ voice was raspy and she could hear the aching pain in it, but while she answered flippantly, she also wrapped her arms around him, reassuring him with her hand on his head.

“Hey, stop crying, man. It’s embarrassing for me, too.”

“I’m not crying. My eyes are just a li’l moist.”

“You should be the one who needs to get checked by the doctor, not me.”

Many of the crew were already surrounding the two and the impact zone, examining the site and taking care of the broken prop. Trisha was the first to arrive after Caius had.

“Glad you’re feeling okay, Mayumi. We’ll take care of things around here. You and your man can take a breather.”

“He’s not my man, Trisha. He’s just a crybaby.”

Despite the denial, Trisha winked, unconvinced. She gave Mayumi a quick head pat as she passed by to help move the broken platform off the stage.

“Okay, folks! Mayumi’s okay, so let’s get this cleaned up. We’ll need to fix this as soon as possible if we want to continue practicing.”

As others too passed by to check in with Mayumi, who graciously returned their blessings, Caius still had not let go of her yet, so Mayumi continued to caress his head until he was ready to do so.

“Really. I have the strength of a normal person now, mostly. I don’t get completely wrecked anymore.”

“Easy for you to say. How many days did you have to stay home for a minor cut or bruise, hmm? Something like this would have killed the old you.”

“Now, killing is a strong word. At most I would have been disabled, not died.”

“That sounds just as tragic. We had to make you wear a gothic lolita outfit because it was the only thing you were willing to wear that covers up everything.”

“Ugh, don’t even mention it. It’s an embarrassing part of my past.”

“With the frilly parasol, too.”

“I’m not a vampire. I can actually live in the sunlight.”

Finally, Caius let go of her. He calmed down and the tears were almost dried up, though he was still a mess. His face and hair were drenched in sweat, his lips were colourless and his breath was still short.

“Feeling better? How ironic that the victim has to ask the rescuer that. C’mon, let’s go.”

“To where?”

“The infirmary, right? That’s where you want me to go, so let’s go, okay? Don’t cry, don’t cry. You need to go too, after that panic attack. It’s gotten a lot better than before, though, I’ll give you that.”

Mayumi smiled softly, pulling Caius along by the hand and towards the exit. Without another word, Caius allowed himself to be pulled along by her through Assembly Hall in a daze, leaving the rest of the drama department behind.

“In the end, we’re going to the infirmary more for you than for me, huh, Caius?”

“Shut up.”

From the upper floor, Cecilia watched the two leave the auditorium with a sinking feeling in her chest. It suffocated her like a knot around her heart, not just watching them holding hands together but also his reaction to her fall. It hurt to see him embrace Mayumi like that, even if the Elites were normally this brazen. Although from what Caius told her and from her own judgment of Mayumi, she shouldn’t be worried about it, but the uncertainty and fear remained. Most of all, she was distressed about where Caius’ feelings stood.

“Ms Cecilia? Is there something wrong?”

Her trance was interrupted by the first-years she was taking care of, who were expecting Cecilia to continue after the commotion below had subsided, but she was spacing out and trapped in her own mind. Her focus returned to the autolight as she brushed aside the chronically dishevelled hair from the front of her face. She forced her thoughts into a state of deep freeze, in order to sort it out at a later time.

“No. Let’s get back to this. You transcribe the circle’s glyphs onto the cata-papers using this reference sheet. The machine only recognizes these, but there are more than enough glyphs programmed for our use.”

The infirmary at Korolev Senior was, once upon a time, not something to be trifled with. It was equipped well enough to bring back a person from death’s door after a mobsters’ gunfight, though they hadn’t needed that capacity for a long while. Not since the new modern era. While the technical capabilities were there to treat an entire platoon, this capacity was slowly reduced to zero over the years. Today, the infirmary was only staffed by one registered nurse at any given time, reducing the field hospital to a plain first-aid office.

And not just that: because this was already past official club activities time, the school nurse had already left, leaving only the visitors’ waiting area open. There was a simple bed and fire blankets there for exactly this purpose: for emergencies outside of school’s official timetables. A sealed cupboard with a variety of first-aid equipment hung above the bed, unlockable by a swipe of a cleanse tag—and would conveniently record the tag’s personalized owner—but they didn’t need it. Caius only needed to rest up a little on the bed.

“What a failure. I haven’t had a panic attack since the one time during junior high.”

“But it seemed like you had control of it. You’re not coughing and screaming like you did a long time ago.”

“I have no comeback for that, as I was a scrawny kid back then.”

Caius laid face up on the emergency bed as Mayumi sat at the foot of it, swinging her feet above the floor that they weren’t able to reach.

“Like I said, my body’s a lot stronger than before. I’m not the frail girl I used to be, y’know? It’s okay to not worry that much about me anymore.”

She said gently, but Caius’ eyes were staring at the ceiling, still feeling physically spent from the ordeal.

“Not a frail girl anymore, huh? Apologies, it’s still a little hard to adjust. We all still have the same impression of you from fourth grade, after all.”

“I don’t mind that, but if you’re gonna be doing this every time I make a fall, you’ll be the one we need to take care of, not me.”

“You’re right. I’m the one still living in the past. I guess it’s a good time to switch mindsets and move on.”

“Good, good. The less visits to the infirmary, the better. I would know.”

She smiled again, but similarly again, Caius did not see it. Mayumi almost stuttered as she replied, but in the end it came out without any trouble. Although this was exactly what she wanted to hear from him, she knew him well enough—just as Eon and Kato did—to know that those words only held half the truth. A silence hung between them for a while before Caius piped up.

“How’s Kato working out for you? Any progress there?”

“Progress? What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to play dumb now, if you don’t even play dumb in front of everyone else.”

“Heheheh. Then what do you think? Do you see any progress between him and me?”

“How would I know? If I did, why would I even need to ask?”

She sneered at his laughable presumptuous attitude. To ask her for her side of the story, of course.

“Then, if I say it’s not going well, would you help me out?”

“Help you out? Don’t even think it. That’s too difficult of a job.”

“How so?”

“You’re up against the Jupiter sisters, and Alice might be a new challenger. But even with just the Jupiters, you’re at too much of a disadvantage. You know what they’re like.”

“And this is why I want you to join forces with me. I need resources to make up for that disadvantage, right?”

Caius finally laughed out loud, though remaining flat on the bed.

“I’ve already allied with you. I’ve always been on your side. It hasn’t changed one bit. You just need to talk to me, and that’s it.”

Another pause, this time from Mayumi. It surprised her how much those words hurt, but there was no turning back the clock. She already made her choice years ago, so all she could do was take it all in and bury it within her heart.

“Then, I’ll take up on your kind offer.”

“Hmph.”

Mayumi knew, though, she couldn’t take up on his offer entirely. She couldn’t bear to put Caius through that again. Even if she was unable to reciprocate his feelings, he was still an Elite; a timeless comradeship she would give up the world for, just as she would the same with Eon and Kato.

“Now, while we’re just chilling in the infirmary, let’s think of some ideas, Caius.”

“Ideas? What ideas?”

“For the equinox festival, of course. We need to come up with a plan and have it accepted before anyone else is able to.”

Caius snapped his finger brilliantly, his usual self and grin returning.

“Now, that’s something I have influence over. Let’s do it.”

By the end of another week, Caius’ prophecy had come true. It was very hard to practice for three different works at the same time; the musical for the drama department, the rock band at lunch and the jazz band for the talent show. Alice considered dropping the jazz arrangement altogether, but because the material they were practicing for the rock band was essentially revolutionary-leaning in nature, it would never get approved by the AC for the talent show, so it was either they start practicing a different playlist, or go back to what they already were practicing with jazz.

Though they initially sought to transition completely to rock, they quickly realized that Caius and Mayumi would be completely absent after school, leaving only the morning and some lunchtimes open. As they would need to practice together in the morning and then perform on some days for the anti-neutrality protests, there was little time left for the whole group to practice altogether for the talent show. So, in the end, they decided to leave out Caius and Mayumi from the Elites’ talent show work.

“Is Mayumi normally this attached to Kato? Isn’t it a bit excessive?”

“Maybe. She certainly was attached, but it’s hard to compare to when we were li’l runts.”

While Mayumi and Kato were returning equipment to the fourth floor studio as usual, they were on their way to one of the music rooms, each with a small piece of the drum set in hand. Franco, Caius and the others were already way ahead of the trailing Alice and Eon.

“I get it if it was Evie or Teto, but even then…”

“Those two’s situation’s a little special, I know, but Mayumi’s definitely taken unnecessary cues from those two.”

“I know, right? For me, I get called out for merely standing next to him for too long of a while, but Mayumi’s allowed to do whatever she wants. This is unfair.”

“Well, your situation is special in the other direction. Because of the paparazzi, anything you do’ll be the centre of attention.”

Eon’s carefree laugh and blunt assessment brought a pout to Alice’s expression. She let out a sigh at the end.

“I thought Mira and Bianca were already obvious enough, but Mayumi’s way over the top with it.”

“Mira, yes, because she’s too nice of a person to people in general. She’s also very upfront about the people she likes or doesn’t like to hang with. But is Bia obvious? I don’t feel like it.”

“Well, yes, I get what you mean, it’s par for the course in Mira’s case. But for Bianca, it’s obvious for the opposite reasons. Instead of like Mayumi’s PDA, they’re plain awkward, like they have some unfinished business between them, but they’re clearly more than just friends.”

“Hah. That’s a very astute observation. How were you able to deduce that?”

Alice gave him a ‘hmph’.

“Kato said that exact same thing to me. I’m not stupid. If you live a life like mine, it’s important to be able to read other people’s intentions.”

“No, you’re right. That’s completely true.”

They threw their junk down in the music room as they watched the team hoist the huge bass drum back into its position at the elevated stage at the back of the room. The height difference between Franco and Caius seemed to have made the latter trip over outside of their vision, eliciting unnecessary consternation among themselves.

“I’m not sure what to make of it. Remember what we explained the other day? While Kato is Mayumi’s saviour, it’s already years in the past. Everybody else moved on from then. Well, almost everybody.”

“You’re talking about Mayumi and Caius?”

“Yup. Well, we can’t do much except watch them, right? That’s a bridge we’ll cross eventually.”

“I don’t know, it looks like the ball’s in Kato’s court. Mayumi said so to me too at the start. The reason she’s back is because of Kato.”

“Of course, that’s a given. There weren’t any doubts about that. However, according to my intuition, it is much more on the two main culprits than Kato. Kato will just be the match that’ll the ultimate fire.”

Alice was bemused, but Eon just shrugged lightly.

“Isn’t that what I meant?”

“Not exactly. You’re staying it’ll just be Kato’s fault. It’ll look like it is Kato’s fault too, but it shouldn’t be. That’s what’s going to happen.”

“That’s your prediction?”

“A prediction based on past experience and how well I know of the people involved.”

“But then you’re not going to do anything about it? Just letting it come as it will?”

“Y’see here, this is why you’re like Kato in some ways. You don’t have the innate fear to make the next move.”

“Really? I don’t feel like you need to be afraid…”

“And that’s also what Kato would say. Y’see what I mean?”

They continued to loiter at the doorway, watching their friends inside continuing to struggle. Eon folded his arms together, impervious to the rough edges in Alice’s aura.

“But yeah, I’m just here to watch them. I might have some useful insight, but that’s about it. I’ll ask you in turn, then. What do you want to do about it, and what are you going to do about it? Hmm?”

“...”

Alice was a little upset by the questions, but it was true that she hadn’t given thought to that until he asked in earnest. It was only then she realized she was just annoyed and wanted someone who weren’t the alleged criminals to talk to about it.

“You’re just a bit frustrated that Kato’s attention is constantly being taken away from you, aren’t you?”

“Wha—!”

Tripping over herself, Eon snickered at her innocently natural reaction. It was a little too easy with Alice, to be perfectly honest. That was why even Kato could do the same.

“Well, whatever it is, I’ll let them sort it out amongst themselves. Again, what about you? Do you have any skin in this particular game?”

“... not that I can if I wanted. If even you consider yourself a bystander, then how can I have skin in this game?”

Seeing her turn a little sad, Eon suddenly piped up jovially.

“Your worth in the fight is what you make it to be! Don’t give up, eh? Remember, you’re the only one amongst us who has the most influence in any metric. Most of us are just peasants, or stupidly strong but think like a peasant.”

He pointed to the rest of the Elites in the classroom and nodded in agreement with himself, satisfied with his own narcissism. Alice was immediately wary.

“What do you have to gain from me doing something about it? Not that I have any ideas to act on.”

“Y’see, this is why I don’t give it too much thought, right? What is the correct course of action? No idea. Still should think about it, but then I’d feel like I’m just putting myself into a problem that was never for me to own to begin with, even if it’s related to me on some level. Ye get me?”

In the end, Eon did reveal his intentions, or rather, continued to affirm his intentions to Alice.

“You don’t think you have any skin in the game?”

“If you think I did, you wouldn’t be coming to me to talk about this, would you?”

“You were the original explainer, after all.”

“And the rest of them accept me as the unbiased one, precisely because I don’t have any skin in the game. And now, you have accepted that too. How ‘bout that?”

“Fair, fair. That makes sense.”

Alice sighed. They made their way back into the music room, being signalled by Evie to return. She felt a bit restless, perhaps helpless, to remain a bystander, but like Eon said, she didn’t need to beat herself up over whether to make a divine intervention. If so, then she needed to find her own way to deal with her insecurities, not expect a solution to be fed to her.

Blrrrng!

“Cecilia! Do you have a few minutes?”

“Yes, Mr Verne?”

The last morning class of the week just finished, so the students were extra noisy with anticipation for their one Sunday off tomorrow. With her belongings put away for lunch period, she chugged her way to the front of the classroom.

“Sorry for the late notice. While the advanced midterms have started this Wednesday, we teachers have to start planning the next set of exams.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s up?”

As usual, Mr Verne started off as if he was already in a middle of a conversation. He scratched his balding head, unsure how to actually start.

“Well, this is about the morning class midterms that’ll start in two weeks.”

“Yes, I’m aware. What about it?”

He sighed. Mr Verne sat back on his stool and took out the class’ attendance sheet, showing it to Cecilia.

“I believe, Ms Cecilia, I’ve told you many times to watch your tardiness. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Cecilia forced a laugh, like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Is it making our attendance sheet look bad? Sorry about that, Mr Verne.”

“No, it’s not that. For myself, I don’t have to care about attendance sheets when I’m already a third-year class’ homeroom teacher. Thankfully, I can use that to focus on actually teaching a class.”

Though he said that somewhat lightly, the seriousness had not yet subsided.

“It’s not about that?”

“Look. You’ve been coming to class more often for the last week and a half. I’m not sure if it’s because of Caius and Mayumi joining the drama department, but if it is, I’m happy for you.”

“No, no, no, I don’t think that’s got to do with anything, probably. Most likely. Mm.”

Her hands subconsciously reached for her hair and she tried to hide her face with it, even though she let her true thoughts slip at the last second.

“Whatever it is, I can see your attendance improving to the point where we’ll probably only need to have this conversation once.”

“Huh?”

Mr Verne had written numbers at the bottom on the attendance sheet. They were totals for the lates and absences she had for the morning classes up to now.

“This number might put you on academic probation in the coming midterms.”

“What do you mean?”

“The school expects you to have full attendance, Cecilia. Even with your recent improvement, and even if you show up to all the classes from now until the exam period starts, it’s not enough to take you out of danger of academic probation.”

“Ahahaha. It’s this kind of bad news, eh?”

“I know that in your first and second year, your teachers gave you a pass on it because your grades were great despite the tardiness, but the tardiness rule is tougher on third-years. The school will not accept any appeals if it turns out you’ll be put on probation.”

“I understand… I think. How do I get put on probation, and what exactly happens to me when I’m on it?”

“If you don’t pass this series of midterms with at least seventy-five percent in every exam, you’ll be put on academic probation. Once you’re on it, well, the only thing that will change for you is the prohibition of extracurricular activities until you succeed with the same condition on the next set of midterms. However, that’s already enough of a problem, for you and for us.”

She froze, and not just because of Mr Verne’s explanation.

“That sounds like a really big problem, Caius?”

“That’s enough to re-cast Celia. We don’t want that to happen, right?”

“What? What??”

Caius and Mayumi suddenly appeared behind her, though it probably wasn’t the case for Mr Verne. The two of them came to the 3-C classroom to pick her up for lunch.

“Basically, he’s saying you have to pass all your exams with flying colours to avoid being banned from the musical.”

“Wait, what? Hold up. Mr Verne. How come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“It’s a student’s responsibility to know and abide by the school rules. This is only a reminder.”

“What? What’s going on?”

Finally, the panic was setting in for Cecilia. Caius, however, thought it was a good time to kick someone while they were down, as an Elite normally would.

“I told you before, Celia. Students have their responsibilities, too, y’know.”

“I know, I know. It’s my mistake. It’s too late now, though, hah. What’s done is done.”

Like a deflated balloon, Cecilia accepted her fate, almost a little too easily. Rubbing her forehead anxiously, she kind of expected her constant skipping of classes to come back to bite her, but not in this way. Mayumi, though, had not yet given up.

“C’mon, Caius, there’s no need for that. What we need are solutions, not smack talk. Mr Verne, is there no way to negotiate with the faculty? At least delay it until after the talent show?”

“I’m afraid that we’re not Class 3-F, so no, the rules are the rules. The only way to avoid it is to make those scores happen. From her usual performance, though, Cecilia should do just fine, in my humble opinion.”

“But one misstep and she’s out of a job, huh. Well, this is going to be a big problem for the drama department, Mr Verne. Maybe you should have reminded her a little earlier.”

“Caius!”

At Mayumi’s exclamation, Caius shrugged and sighed in exasperation.

“No, he’s right. I should have given at least an earlier reminder. But what’s done, is done. And although the threshold is seventy-five, Cecilia is high-achieving enough to pass all of them easily.”

“Is she that good at school? I’m surprised, with all the skipping and all.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Eheheh. Yeah, one of us.”

Cecilia forced a smile. In her head she already went through each of the classes and midterms, and immediately realized that her situation didn’t look great. It wasn’t insurmountable, but it would definitely mean she needed to go to class and pay attention, and then leave immediately after school to study to make up the time. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face as she watched their grins, unable to refute their confidence in her in the moment.

In a dark corner of the school was the formidable Public Safety Committee office, situated on the east side of the third floor. By merely entering it, chills went down the spine due to its imposing presence. The office was awed as well as feared, for this place was where from the law stretched out its long arm.

Actually, in its appearance it looked like any other office with its desks, files and papers and all, but the office was augmented with some imposing equipment and weaponry. At the back was a closed interrogation room, complete with steel doors and a lock from the outside. It was as if every room of a police department was merged into this one office.

“Thanks, Don. This’ll be enough for the racetrack.”

“No problem, Liam. Get to work, my friend.”

“Got it, chief.”

“Oh, and remember to give the drama department a visit some time. Don’t wait for the last two weeks please. You’ll need time to learn how to use the new autolight.”

“Yes, yes. I’ve got that too, chief.”

Freely juggling the roll of cash in the air with his hand, Liam left with a sneer on his face, leaving Stephen and Donovan behind in the office. The door closed shut, and Stephen took a seat.

“Is this one of your men? I can’t say I’m impressed.”

“Well, there are useful grunts and there are fodder grunts. Despite his shortcomings in his personality, he falls into the former category. Every faction needs both types of men to run a business, so why not?”

“I agree.”

Donovan sat down as well in the marshal’s chair. A large desk separated the two men.

“What do you have for me, Stephen?”

“Yessir, Donovan. First, about the Class 3-F band that’s been playing in the atrium for the past week. They’re undoubtedly from the anti-neutrality camp. Their intention is to incite a vague sense of resistance from the general populace against the PSC’s and even the AC’s supremacy.”

“I mean, anyone with an eyeball can see that. They have that black flag for a reason.”

Though Donovan’s voice was cheery, the condescension was blatantly obvious. On the other hand, Stephen was unperturbed despite his temper. Where his loyalties laid was just as obvious; he wasn’t Gilbert’s right hand man for nothing.

“Of course. This is an expected course of events. With the furor of anti-establishment sentiment faltering because of the senatorial trials of our comrades, they need something else to keep up the waves of protests against our regime.

“This is most likely a covert operation orchestrated by the Class B-controlled student council. Through their personal connections, the student council is able to leverage the talents in Class F to do the dirty work; inciting rebellion against the Assembly.”

“There we go. Some useful intelligence. Then, what evidence do you have to make that claim?”

“I went down there myself. Ariel and Bianca were there to observe. Out of all the ruckus that Class F makes, they took their precious time to be there to observe on the first day of their live performance.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“This is an officer’s intuition. Use it as you will.”

The harsh gaze from Stephen was met with a light grin. Donovan rubbed the stub of hair at his chin, seemingly content.

“No, you are correct. My apologies. It is a very likely possibility. And with your cousin and half-sister part of the problem, your insight should be sufficiently accurate.”

Stephen’s left eye twitched at the mention of those two girls. His mouth twisted into a grimace.

“Do you think it will help you having Class A cleared out of the PSC? As much as the charges against us were politically motivated, most of the charges were true. But there were a few that weren’t.”

Donovan didn’t blink. He knitted his fingers together nicely.

“And you were one of them who survived, because they couldn’t press the false charges against you. I need exactly people like you to remain in order to keep the PSC operational. That’s what we’re doing, right?”

“If you think that’s the case, then you have no need to question my loyalty.”

“No, no. I’m not questioning your loyalty. You’ve proven that already.”

Stephen gritted his teeth. The restless urge to outright explode was scratching at his chest.

“If that’s your answer, then if you’d allow me, I’d want you to explain why your department would hire Class F students for your musical. And why those same students plus your favourite pet would join Class F in playing The Outlaws’ songs at lunchtime.”

“Ah, that’s a decision made by Mr Verne and Mr Nigel. I’m no longer in charge of the affairs of the drama department.”

“Bullshit.”

The stare-off continued, but there was an obvious lack of trust between the lone two men in the office. It was already way past the end of club activities. For most people, it would be dinnertime already.

“Whether you think it’s bullshit or not, it doesn’t change the fact.”

There wasn’t a moment missed with his innocent grin. Stephen sighed, rather impatiently.

“Really? Then what about your favourite pet who is my cousin? You’re going to doubt my judgment because of her, but you’re the one who’s closer to her than me. Am I wrong?”

“I have no idea. While I do favour your cousin, she’s just someone to play around with without having the need to take care of the rest of the class. It’s an irritating job, keeping people in line, so I need to have a little fun sometimes.”

There was a sour taste in his mouth, but Stephen swallowed it nonetheless. Even if his new boss was a slimy bastard, it was still his mission to adapt to him, and not to submit to him.

“Let’s get back to the main point, if that’s all you’re going to say. Student council and Class B are the most likely culprits. They will use popular sentiment to push for political reform, and the most likely direction is to subjugate the PSC and the AC.”

“Ho, that’s news to me. Sorry, that was supposed to be sarcastic. Now, what’s in it for them?”

“The PSC and the AC are organizations that de facto wield powers that are supposed to be the student council’s. Because they’re not Class A, and because of how the PSC and the AC are set up in practice, they’re immediately excluded from the power structure. That’s motivating enough. You should know, as the Class C representative who landed himself the top job in the PSC.”

“So you’re thinking of just a mere power grab?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Donovan leaned back in his chair.

“I have a different opinion. I believe it’s more than just a power grab, and it’ll soon be something out of our control. Your old man Gilbert should be able to see the same thing.”

“What?”

Stephen snarled again. Donovan shrugged, slightly amused.

“I happen to know Mirabelle Jupiter and her temperament, and Gilbert does as well. I’ll advise you with this. She and her sisters have no stake in this school, or value anything we stand for. An opponent playing with chips that aren’t theirs will naturally play their hands differently.”

“Really? What are you trying to say?”

“Class B is not a traditional faction, and Class F is not a traditional pawn. You and Gilbert are smart. You should already be aware of it.”

“We are. You are going to say, they’re doing this just for the sake of doing it? To just mess everything up?”

“Yes. To destroy what exists and replace it with something else. They will replace our game with a different one.”

“Hmph. Not bad. That is certainly something Class B and Class F would go for.”

“I told you, you and Gilbert are smart people.”

Donovan widened his smile. He continued.

“You should learn to use a Teller sonograph. If your half-sister is even half of what she’s famous for, pardon the wordplay, then it’s obvious what you need to do.”

Stephen frowned. He didn’t expect this from Donovan.

“Do you expect Mayumi to attempt to use her eye to cheat on an exam?”

“Class A aren’t the only ones with their paws in every corner of the city.”

Donovan sneered for the first time, and threw several thick file folders on the desk between them.

“These are…?”

“Exam results from Regia Miriam.”

Stephen stood up and picked up one of them by the hand and handled the papers cautiously as if they were radioactive. Several fell out from underneath, spilling over the table and floor.

“From whom did you obtain these? There are even photocopies of the actual papers.”

“Now, now, I can’t out who my sources are, can I? But with that said, they have to be at least from Regia Miriam, right?”

His corporate smile returned as Stephen picked up the dropped sheets and took his time flipping through them. It was a whole minute before Stephen aimed back at Donovan with a rigid gaze.

“At first glance, it doesn’t seem like there are any traces of cheating, but there are other people’s exams here too. You’re saying she’s helping her friends cheat on these exams?”

“Yes. If you go through it chronologically, there’s a subtle pattern with the exam papers. Normally, if you want to catch the cheat, you would scrutinize the ringleader’s and compare his answers with their accomplices’. However, if you look at your half-sister’s exam papers, they do not look out of the ordinary. There’s an obvious natural progression of achievement from one exam to another.”

Donovan pointed to a series of papers from Mayumi’s first year of senior high. Like Stephen first said, looking at her papers alone did not show much, if at all any evidence of cheating.

“I can see it too. The mistakes she made in a previous exam, either she fixed and improved on it, or if it remained a mistake, any other course content that builds on top of that, she failed in those areas too. It looks absolutely normal.”

Donovan nodded. He then spread out several more exams out on the desk, this time of other students from Mayumi’s school.

“It took a while to obtain all the necessary data. These are just mere selections for demonstration purposes, but this is where you can find the pattern. You must look at the exams of students from outside of her homeroom class, and of very specific students.”

Stephen put his hand to these papers, and noticed a pattern immediately. Donovan continued.

“They’re not particularly high-scoring papers, nor were the answers themselves similar enough to raise a red flag in the teacher who’s marking them. In general, teachers wouldn’t give a crap about possible cheating if the final score doesn’t even reach eighty percent. This is part of why this all went under their radar.”

“Mayumi, who can see the correct answers, distributed them among her clients, with each student getting one or two questions max. And probably only verbally and moments before the exam so that there’s too little time for her clients to collude and put all the answers together, which makes practical sense given the scope of her eye’s powers.”

He nodded at Stephen’s answer.

“Almost all correct. And because of the short timeframe, her clients rushed to sit down in their seats to write down their one or two answers almost word-by-word, meaning the answers should almost always have literary tendencies that match Mayumi’s writing.

“Mayumi only did this for students outside of her class. It would have been too easy to be found out if she did this mercenary work for her own class. Different homerooms are mandated to have different exams, after all. But not always entirely.”

Donovan got up and pointed to Mayumi’s exams once more.

“More often than you’d think, exams between classes will have a few overlapping questions; they teach the same syllabus after all. Similar to how Mayumi distributes her answers to different classes, lesser teachers and instructors most likely pluck out exam questions from a question bank. And even more likely, they’d pluck out the same questions but stagger-distribute between the classes.

“For example, if the teachers pulled out nine questions by lottery from such a question bank, Class A’s exam will have questions one to five, Class B’s exam will have questions three to seven, Class C’s exam will have questions five to nine, and Class D’s exam will have questions seven, eight, nine, one, and two.”

Stephen held one of the papers up.

“If Mayumi decides to help out several classes at the same time, then she’ll be in fact giving the same answer to the same question, multiple times.”

Donovan nodded again.

“Exactly. Only her own homeroom had used an active Teller sonograph to monitor her during an exam, so of course that’s another barrier to help her own class to cheat. This is how she was able to evade detection. She handed out answers to only other classes, at the moment before the exam began, and with different answers to different clients. On top of that, teachers usually do not share exam papers with each other after the fact because from within their own set of completed exam papers, there’s not enough reason to suspect any widespread cheating; Mayumi’s strategy to disperse risk has made sure that it would be the case. This whole setup is practically undetectable by their faculty, and our deduction of how to find a pattern for finding Mayumi’s answers is only possible because of a tip-off from an insider.”

Donovan looked up from the exams as Stephen folded his arms across his chest.

“You got the tip-off and obtained these exams to try and cross-examine the theory.”

“Yes, essentially. There’s also one more trail of evidence that makes this case much stronger. If you look through the exams over time, the number of clients is actually countable, because later on Mayumi wasn’t distributing the answers equally among her clients. For a few of the classes, there seems to be three or four students that do this distribution as a proxy for Mayumi, for maybe the dozen students who are in on the scheme.”

Stephen’s eyes widened with attention.

“So after building up a network of trusted people, they were put in charge of proxying Mayumi’s job of providing exam answers and therefore should have more exam answers from Mayumi. And that’s how the pattern could be independently detected.”

“Indeed. I picked these out to show you, because these are her proxies. And because she made this compromise to make the operation more efficient, it allowed this pattern to be more detectable.”

“Yet, she lowers the risk of an inside leak as long as the proxies are loyal to her, since it’s much harder to command this many clients to keep their mouths shut.”

Stephen threw the exam papers back on the table.

“Is this operation really worth it for Mayumi? Her clients get at most only one or two answers, while her proxies might get a couple more.”

“That’s between five to twenty percent of the score we’re talking about. For an elite school, that can make or break a lot of things.”

“Hmph. While this data certainly lends lots of credence to your insider’s theory, it’s not definitively provable until a Teller sonograph tells us so.”

“And this is why we need someone who can operate a Teller sonograph.”

“And you think I should be the one to do it?”

“It’s got to do with you a lot, doesn’t it? Your half-sister is the criminal, while your cousin is the would-be client.”

“Cecilia? A client—?”

Stephen took an involuntary step backward, but he already realized, even without Donovan’s subsequent explanation.

“Due to her absences, Cecilia is on course for academic probation if she can’t pass with above the probation threshold of seventy-five percent on the next set of morning midterms. Academic probation means a stop to extracurriculars, meaning she will miss out on the musical and the talent show. What do you think of the chances that Mayumi will use her powers here in this situation?”

“If it’s Class 3-F and Mayumi, I’d say it’s likely. They’re not the saints that they think they are.”

“And neither are any of the classes. This is Korolev Senior, after all. So, will you take the job?”

Stephen shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course. Although they may seem related to me, I really don’t have any real relations to those two.”

“They’re your family, aren’t they?”

“One has willingly left the family of their own volition, and the other is a bastard child of a mistress. Neither holds the Liguro name, nor do I even need my father’s name. What do you think?”

It was Donovan’s turn to shrug.

“When you put it that way, it does sound like they have no relations to you, but you at least know them, right?”

“In some ways, sure. How about this? They know me, that’s for sure.”

“How convenient. Well, it do be like that sometimes. This is what this school’s like. If it’s true that they’re just normal folk—well, as normal as you can get for this school—then I feel a little sorry for having the innocent involved.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mentioned before that the ongoing insurrection by Class F is different from periods of unrest in the past. Let’s start from here: why do you think the faculty has the ultimate power, despite the backgrounds of the students who attend this institution? Including you and your relatives who are involved in this disturbance?”

“Hmm?”

Donovan took his seat in the marshal’s chair and webbed his fingers together. Stephen, too, sat back down.

“The students were able to wrest away everything but the rights to lecture and to grade, but only for as long as the headmistress allows this to continue. The arrival of Ms Romana changed that equation.”

“But Ms Romana is a Heart, so of course her word is law.”

“And that’s exactly why our system is falling apart. Our system is based on a mutually agreed-upon set of normative rules, the so-called rules of society and its functions. The constitution and the Rules of the Game. If one can come in and override these rules and force the contemporary holders of influence to bend the knee, then it’s the beginning of the end for the existing system.”

“Is that what you think the reason is for Mayumi’s return to Korolev? A conspiracy from above to overturn our order through the guise of a popular uprising?”

“It’s a theory, of course, but I think it’s more real than it may suggest on first glance. Here’s the next conspiracy factor. Do you know who convinced your half-sister to return?”

Stephen narrowed his eyes. Again, he didn’t expect Donovan to look this deep into the situation as well as his relatives.

“Who?”

“I mentioned her name before. Someone me, you and Gilbert, and pretty much everyone in the school, are familiar with. Especially the two of you, and might I add Mona to the list as well, should know exactly who this person is.”

Angrily, Stephen spat out. He was suddenly pissed.

“…it’s her? How can it be her?”

“Right? How can I not think it’s a conspiracy if it’s true? Well, it is true, so I guess I do think it’s a conspiracy.”

“And I assume you got this bit from your informants at Regia Miriam? That means she showed up at that school as herself, and didn’t approach Mayumi in secret.”

“Yes. And remember, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that someone like Ms Romana would replace Mr Constantinus as Class F homeroom teacher, and then someone like Mayumi would be allowed to subsequently join that powder keg of a class. And now, as you and I were discussing earlier, that secret person’s student council is using her and Class F for their political ends.”

Stephen’s fists curled into a ball, furious. Donovan cleaned up and set the file folders aside neatly. His fake, corporate smile was in full display, and said as he held up a different file folder.

“That’s right. Mirabelle Jupiter, our student council president, visited Regia Miriam to solicit your half-sister’s consent to transfer here, to Korolev Senior.”