“Man, is it coming down,” Chiaki Shuuhei sighed, peering out through the window of the mathematics teachers’ office at the downpour.
“Chiaki-sensei, I’ve brought you tea.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Yamaguchi, who also taught the juniors, came bearing a tray with a steaming teacup. He was tall and gangly, and seemed an unreliable sort of man on first glance, but had in fact turned out to be quite a thoughtful colleague; it was he who had organized the math department’s welcome party. He had married only six months ago, and on his desk sat a picture of his beloved wife.
“Wow, it’s pouring. The weather forecast said there was only a 10% chance of precipitation. I can lend you an umbrella if you need one.”
“Oh, I’ve got a car, so I’ll be fine,” said Chiaki, sipping the bitter green tea. Yamaguchi sat down facing him and sipped at his own tea.
“How’re you doing, Chiaki-sensei? Any thoughts now that you’re on your third day?”
“They’re all great kids. Their attitude towards their lessons are excellent, and I haven’t encountered any problem children. Though they seem a little too mature for their age.”
They weren’t docile, precisely—just taken aback by Chiaki’s crude method of teaching.
“That’s true. I’m glad to hear to say that.”
“I finally have 2-B tomorrow.” Chiaki smirked an aside: “Just you wait, Kagetora.”
Yamaguchi tilted his head doubtfully. “It’s true that our standards have risen rapidly these past six months—a happy development since the student council adopted the Mikuriya system.”
“Mikuriya—aah, the student from 2-A? She’s the student council president, I believe?”
“Yes. Since she assumed the office, the students have become completely self-managed. They’ve achieved what even the teachers haven’t. It’s quite amazing.”
“Self-managed, huh...?” Chiaki raised his eyebrows as he bit into a steamed bun which had accompanied the tea. “It sounds pretty good when you put it like that, but it’s more like a dictatorship. Issuing tickets for violations? They’re not the police. That sort of student life where you’re looking over your shoulder at every turn is no joke. I can’t believe the students haven’t said anything about it.”
“Really? I don’t really think it’s a bad thing.”
“The young should have more freedom!” Chiaki declared melodramatically. “Youth is freedom! To pass the springtime of your life bound by rules and regulations is to squander your precious irrecoverable youth! Forsooth, it is a sacrilege—don’t you think so, Yamaguchi-sensei?”
“Erg... But this is what the students decided for themselves...”
“What I really can’t stand are those so-called patrollers.” He crossed his arms and leaned his entire weight against the back of his chair, placing his feet—thud thud—on his desk. “They go around sniffing out transgressions with their noses twitching like dogs under the mantle the authority. Their kind makes me feel sick to my stomach.”
Chiaki himself had evidently had the painful experience of such a crackdown in the past (given that he was driving without a license, there was pretty much nothing he could say). Yamaguchi chuckled uncomfortably at Chiaki’s increasing vehemence.
“Ah, speaking of which, there was another teacher who said similar things.”
“?”
“Nakajima-sensei, who was also a mathematics teacher.”
“Nakajima? I haven’t heard of them. Did they quit?”
“He passed away last November.”
Chiaki jolted. “Passed away?”
“Yes, of acute heart failure. He was quite well-advanced in years, and he collapsed at school and was taken away in an ambulance, and that was that.”
Chiaki removed his feet from the desk and propped both his elbows on it. “At school?” he asked curiously.
“Yes. I rode with him on the ambulance. I was shocked; he was usually in the best of health. But he was also quite critical of the current student council—he would often grumble about them.”
Chiaki’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm...”
“He was strict when it came to schoolwork, but he would often counsel the students in their distress. He was quite beloved. He and his wife were both very caring people, and graduates would visit them at their home. He was such a wonderful teacher...” Yamaguchi reminisced, before suddenly clapping his hands together as if he’d just recalled something. “But you know, he said the strangest thing the day before he collapsed. It bothered me.”
“Strange?”
“Yes. Oh, but...” he hesitated as if worried about its appropriateness, and Chiaki peered at his face quizzically.
“What is it? Please tell me.”
“Ah...well...” Yamaguchi looked uncomfortable. He muttered, “This happened the day before Nakajima-sensei collapsed. It was cloudy just like today. I was returning from overseeing club activities, and it was pretty late—around 6. It was quite dark by then. Nakajima-sensei was standing alone in the corridor up ahead there, looking out of the window.”
“Alone, looking out of the window?”
“Yes. He was making advance arrangements for the field trip, so I knew he‘d be here late, but he looked strange. It was like he was just blankly staring out at a single point. I thought it was odd, so I called out to him...and then he turned to me, deathly pale, and he said this—Yamaguchi’s voice dropped to a whisper—”I saw a ’shining serpent’—that’s what he said."
“A shining serpent...?”
“Yes.” Yamaguchi’s face was as fearful as if he were telling a ghost story. “A ‘shining serpent’. I asked him what it meant, but he didn’t answer. He only staggered away. His face was paper-white, like he was possessed.”
“And then he suddenly died the next day?”
“Yes,” Yamaguchi nodded, his voice falling. “After that came the funeral and other things, and I was so busy running around that I forgot about it, but I suddenly remembered sometime later...”
Chiaki’s eyes sharpened behind his glasses. “‘Shining serpent’... You’re sure that’s what he said?”
“If I heard him correctly. But I have no idea what he meant. It’s like a dying message from a mystery novel—so frightening that I haven’t told anyone until now.”
“Dying message...huh?”
If indeed it had been something like that, even if it sounded rather melodramatic, then Nakajima had been murdered.
(‘Shining serpent’...) Chiaki pondered, looking perplexed, and silence abruptly fell within the teachers’ office. Unable to bear the pounding of the rain, Yamaguchi gave a flustered laugh.
“Th-that couldn’t have been it, I must’ve heard wrong. Hahaha.”
“Nakajima-sensei was standing in the corridor up ahead and looking out, you said?”
“Ha...haah.”
Chiaki gulped down his remaining tea and crammed his bun into his mouth. “Thanks for the snack. How about we take a walk down the corridor, Yamaguchi-sensei?”
“Huh? O-okay... Why...?”
He placed his teacup in the sink and dragged Yamaguchi down the corridor by the scruff of his neck.
“Was it here, Yamaguchi-sensei?”
Chiaki stood by the same window Nakajima had looked out of that day. Yamaguchi nodded.
“Yes. I’m certain, it was here.”
“Which direction?”
“Ahead. Which direction precisely...well, straight ahead. Up a little, maybe. Toward the sky...”
Chiaki peered out ‘ahead and a little up’. In front of him stood the club house, and beyond that was the demolished and under-construction gymnasium, surrounded by green trees.
(This direction...)
To the north of Old Castle High School
stood Kumamoto Castle Park, with the castle tower slightly to its right. At its far back in the hilly section to the left was Katou Kiyomasa’s family temple, Honmyou Temple...
(‘Shining serpent’, huh...?)
“Maybe he saw lightning? If he was looking at the sky.”
“No idea. Except that I didn’t hear any thunder despite it being overcast...”
“...” Chiaki put a hand on his chin and hmm’d like a detective. ...What did it mean?
Beside him, Yamaguchi looked downcast. At that moment—
“Aah—! What are you doing, Chiaki-sensei?” asked a female student from the other end of the corridor. Chiaki came back to himself and turned.
“Hey. It’s you. Erm...”
“Aw, come on. I’m Koganezawa Kyouko from 2-D. If you’re going to send me on errands, you should at least remember my name!”
“Oh, right, of course. Koganezawa Kyouko. Thank you for going shopping for me yesterday. So why’re you still here?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’re you still here?’ Everyone’s been waiting for you.”
“Huh?”
“Did you forget about rugby club practice? Didn’t you promise to be the club’s advisor in Kobayashi’s place?” Kyouko said, pouting. She was the rugby club manager. Yesterday, when she’d undertaken Chiaki’s errand, she’d gotten him to promise to be the club’s deputy advisor.
(I clean forgot about it.)
“Due to the rain, we’re training in the club house today. Hurry up and come!”
“A-all right already. I’m going now. See you later, Yamaguchi-sensei!”
“Ah, wait...Chiaki-sensei!”
Chiaki allowed Kyouko to pull him away by the arm.
The two glared at each other in the midst of the falling rain.
Nezu was not sheltering beneath an umbrella. Takaya handed Akemi hers and stepped forward into the rain without regard for his uniform.
“O-Ougi-kun...Nezu-kun...”
With his left hand in his pocket, Nezu Kouichi gazed at Takaya with a hostile, stiff expression—the same clearly venomous look with which he had regarded the transfer student from the very start.
Akemi held her breath a little at the alarming atmosphere. Nezu was the first to speak.
“Why did you come to this school?”
“...” Takaya didn’t move.
What? Akemi’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, why did he come, Nezu-kun?”
“I’m asking what purpose you have for sneaking into this school, Ougi Takaya,” Nezu repeated forcefully, ignoring her. Akemi didn’t know what he meant, but Takaya did.
“What about you?” Takaya said, head tilted slightly. “I can ask you the exact same question. What is your purpose in becoming a student at that school? You’re no ally of Mikuriya’s. Where are you from?”
(What? What? What?) Akemi alone was out to sea. Then suddenly the branch above Takaya’s head snapped and plunged downward.
“Kyaah!” Akemi pressed a hand against her mouth, but Takaya showed not a hint of surprise. He was still glaring straight at Nezu.
“I see...” Nezu murmured, smiling a little. “So you are as they say. I believe I know who you are, if my information is to be trusted.”
Takaya’s shoulders jerked. Nezu’s smile vanished, and he slowly approached: a challenge.
“How much do you know about that school? How much information were you able to obtain before you slipped in? What do you plan to do there?”
“...” Takaya warily drew back the smallest amount.
“Answer me. If occasion requires it, you may have to oblige me by disappearing right here.”
“You really think I’d tell you?”
“You don’t have to.” As he spoke Nezu reached for Takaya’s left arm with his right. They touched for just a second.
“!”
For an instant Takaya felt his consciousness flow into Nezu, and he reflexively jerked his arm out of Nezu’s grasp.
(That was...!)
But it was too late; Nezu had already read his mind. Takaya glared at him, clutching the spot he had touched.
Nezu smirked. “As I thought. Uesugi Kagetora himself.”
Takaya clenched his teeth at Nezu’s superior smile.
(Contact mind-reading...!)
It was a rare ability which allowed its wielder to read the thoughts of another through physical touch, and even a second was long enough to allow some to probe quite deeply.
Takaya had immediately shielded his consciousness and stopped Nezu from reading all but his surface thoughts, but still some information had slipped through.
“I see... So you don’t yet know anything about ‘that’.”
“! What?!”
Nezu pompously folded his arms and responded shrewdly, “Withdraw from Old Castle High School immediately. I do not currently wish to expand any of my power fighting you, and I believe it is the same for you. This is a time for building up our strength to face our own respective enemies. Take this as my warning. Depart from Kumamoto. Otherwise I must take appropriate measures. Leave immediately, or I will be forced to crush you.”
“You,” Takaya fixed a cautious but sharp glare at him, “where are you from? Ryuuzouji?”
“...” Nezu’s black eyes looked at him without responding. He could not be called either strapping or brawny, but he seemed to expand in size. The way he carried himself—that sharp gaze—spoke unmistakably of long years on the battlefield. He closely resembled a tough-beaked bird of prey which had pruned away everything not necessary for the battle. “I say again: leave Kumamoto. I have no intention of allowing Mikuriya Juri her way. I cannot allow you to interfere.”
“And if I tell you I won’t leave?”
“I will crush you,” Nezu immediately responded with supreme confidence in his own matchless power, and Takaya was silenced. Though he had told Takaya to leave, it seemed as if he would prefer to fight—he belonged to that class of people who thoroughly loved war.
He did not know what this man’s true intentions were, but what he did know was the tenacity of his determination. He was not bluffing when he said he would crush Takaya.
“You...” Takaya asked once more in a hushed voice, “Who are you?”
Nezu didn’t reply. He had said what he’d intended to say; he turned on his heels and headed down the line of trees in the rain.
Takaya looked quietly, searchingly after him with his wet hair straggling into his face.
“O...Ougi-kun,” Akemi called worriedly from behind him, peering at him. “What was Nezu-kun talking about? U...esugi?”
“...” Takaya’s expression so frightened her that she took a step back.
Nezu Kouichi. The other person in that class whom, like Miike Tetsuya, the miscellaneous spirits left alone. A ‘recalcitrant element’ standing in opposition to Mikuriya Juri’s executive office.
(That man...)
Unmistakably a kanshousha.
(An onshou...)
But who?
The rain showed no signs of letting up, coldly soaking the outstretched branches of the line of trees.
Led by Koganezawa Kyouko, Chiaki looked in on the rugby club’s training and greeted the lamentably puny players with a: “I’ll take you all the way to Hanazono this year!”
Though the proclamation was enthusiastic enough, he left the club house without watching much of the training.
“Chiaki-sensei—!” Kyouko chased Chiaki outside. “Where are you going?!”
“Huh? ...Ah...oh, to take a look around the sports ground.” Chiaki changed his shoes and picked up a nearby plastic umbrella. “To, uh, you know. Check out the facilities in order to better coach the students. The sports ground is fundamental. I need to inquire about the equipment count as well.”
It was all a pack of lies, of course; what he really wanted was to do a spirit-sensing of the school grounds. Sure, he’d managed to insert himself into the school, but a teacher’s life was unexpectedly short on free time, and he was in a bit of a fix.
“In that case, I’ll! I’ll show you around! I know the equipment.”
“Hmm...all right.” He did need a guide. “Thanks.”
And Kyouko started cheerfully leading him around.
Old Castle High School’s sports ground was in the back of the school building. The PE storage was in front, and old abandoned hurdles and forgotten soccer balls lay dripping in the rain. The outdoors activities clubs had either ended early due to the weather or had switched to training, and the field was empty.
“Usually practice wouldn’t stop unless it was really pouring, but washing all the mud off is a bother. That’s why we’re weight-training today. ...Oh, that’s the clubroom over there.”
Despite the rain, Kyouko was in high spirits. She was successfully monopolizing her target, Chiaki-sensei (even if she was only showing him around), and was elated.
But Chiaki wasn’t paying any attention.
(This area is terrible, too...)
Ghosts wandered about in clusters. Anyone who was psychically sensitive would probably find it intolerable. There was no doubt now that the chaotic center of Kumamoto’s null magnetic field was here in Old Castle High School. But where was the source?
(Over there...?)
His spirit-sensing indicated something like a power source on the left hand side of the sports ground. It was emitting a magnetism that was pulling spirits in—a spirit-magnet. It was right around the under-construction gym.
“The gym? Yeah, it’s being demolished right now, so there’s no point in going over.”
“When did the work start?”
“Mmn, this year.”
“This year?” Chiaki frowned.
“I didn’t think it was that old, but it was pretty sudden. They only started mentioning the renovation at the end of last year, and then wham! It was really fast.”
“... Sudden, huh...?”
“That why PE’s being held outdoors even in this cold. The basketball and volleyball teams suddenly had nowhere to practice, so they’ve had to rent facilities elsewhere. It’s been really bad for them.”
“...”
Chiaki put a hand on his chin and hmm’d. A hasty decision made at the end of last year? Something stank. And during this window...
(This must’ve been a little after Nakajima-sensei died.)
Though after Mikuriya’s executive office had taken over.
(It stinks...)
“I’m going to go take a look at that gym.”
“Eh? What for?”
“Check out the construction work, see how far it’s gotten.”
“You can’t, Sensei! Nobody’s allowed to get that close!”
Chiaki turned in surprise. “What?”
“Anyone who goes gets punished by the executive office. And the teachers will be angry, too.”
“Why would they be angry?”
“Well...it was decided in the regulations.”
“Regulations, huh?”
(And who decided the regulations?)
Chiaki threw up his hands and walked toward the gym. Kyouko cried, flustered, “Ah! Wait, Sensei!”
“It’ll be fine if nobody sees me, right? It’ll be fine. You stay here.”
“But...but, Sensei! It’s too dangerous!”
Ignoring Kyouko’s attempts to stop him, he talked toward the gym. Kyouko dithered in confusion for a bit, then chased after him, still calling out. The gym stood at a slightly elevated position. As he climbed the stairs—
“What are you doing there?!”
Kyouko jumped at the shrill female voice. They turned to see several adults coming toward them from the school. At their center was a young woman in sailor uniform.
(That’s...)
“Mi...Mikuriya Juri!” Kyouko exclaimed in a small voice. Mikuriya stepped out of a throng of adults in business suits and shouted at them at the top of her voice:
“What are you doing there?! Trespassing into the gym is strictly forbidden. Have you forgotten?!”
“Ah, well, sorry about that.” Chiaki stepped protectively in front of Kyouko and meekly bowed his head. “I wanted to take a look around, see what’s up there. I’m new here, and Koganezawa-kun is showing me around the school.”
“You’re...” Mikuriya raised her thin eyebrows. “The substitute math teacher, right? The gym is being torn down. This area is off-limits due to the danger. Didn’t the other teachers tell you?”
“Hmm...” Chiaki answered vaguely, scratching his head. “Well, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. We’ll overlook this today. You should leave immediately.”
“Right, apologies.”
They walked rapidly down the stairs.
(They were in an awful panic...)
Chiaki’s gaze sharpened at Mikuriya Juri’s reaction. She turned to the adults in suits and gestured, “Please.” They weren’t school personnel—who were they?
“?”
As he passed them, Chiaki saw a face that seemed familiar and stopped in his tracks.
It was a tall man in a trench coat. He was around thirty, with broad shoulders that gave him the impression of reliability. His black hair was slicked back, and he was wearing silver-rimmed glasses. His eyes behind the glasses were cool and calm and was balanced nicely by his shapely nose; his cultivated poise had the air of one of those people who might be called the elite.
(I know him from somewhere...)
He had the feeling he’d seen this man before, but he couldn’t remember. Chiaki stared rather rudely, but the other man gave no indication of whether or not he had noticed.
“...!”
As they passed each other in the rain, something tickled Chiaki’s sense of smell almost imperceptibly: the cologne the man was wearing.
“!” Chiaki spun to the other man as a face rose for an instant in his mind. (Naoe!?)
The man was beginning to ascend the stairs after Mikuriya.
Chiaki immediately realized that it wasn’t Naoe. First, his features; and he could clearly sense that the man did not have the unique aura of a kanshousha. Chiaki sighed, deflating, and stood there blankly for a moment.
(They just wear the same cologne.)
The brand wasn’t exactly rare. That dude sure puts on airs, Chiaki thought, and then had another realization. That exact product wasn’t being sold in Japan yet. There couldn’t be that many people wearing it.
(A coincidence...?)
Chiaki took another look at the man over his shoulder. He must be mistaken. It was raining, he probably couldn’t have smelled it from that far away. And besides, the scent of perfumes changed based on body odor.
It might’ve been similar, but that scent was not unique to Naoe.
(It just reminded me of him...) After the moment of absorption Chiaki exclaimed again. Mikuriya was leading those men toward the gym. (They...!)
“Geez, Her Majesty is leading another inspection tour?”
“Do you know who they are?”
“Yeah, they’re prefecture employees and building contractors. They come a lot, and every time Mikuriya-president-of-the-student-council herself shows them around like that. It’s kinda strange.”
“Contractors...”
“Let’s go! If we stay here too long there’ll be trouble. Wherever Mikuriya is, executive office members will be watching. Sensei, let’s go!”
“Ah...right.”
Chiaki left with Kyouko pulling his arm, but he looked over his shoulder several times at Mikuriya and the men.
(The source that’s driving the spiritual magnetic field mad...)
Mikuriya, who was leading the way herself. And those building contractors...
(There were kanshousha among them...)
It’s got to have something to do with all this.
Chiaki’s expression darkened.
One thing had become quite clear: eight or nine chances of out ten, Mikuriya Juri and the outbreak of the spirit-magnet were connected.