Prologue: Guidelines for the Garden Night Soiree

“Now, let’s decide on our event for the Garden Night Soiree. If anyone has any suggestions, please go ahead,” said Hizumi Nagekawa, a member of the Garden Night Soiree planning committee, standing in front of the digital blackboard in Class 2-A at the mage-training institute Void’s Garden.

Incidentally, the Garden Night Soiree was the equivalent of what might be called a school festival at a regular high school.

“How about a food stall? We could serve something you can only get at a mage-training institute.”

“Let’s do a stage play! We can go all out with magic effects—big aerial battles and dramatic scenes!”

“No, no, a café would be better! We could do special themed menus and magical effects!”

Ideas flew in one after another. Hizumi wrote them down on the board as the students shouted them out.

“All right, I think that’s everything. Anyone else have any—?”

She stopped midsentence, her eyebrows twitching ever so slightly.

It was immediately clear why. The class’s top student and number one troublemaker, Ruri Fuyajoh, had shot her hand into the air.

“U-uh… Okay then, Ruri.”

Hizumi clearly had a bad feeling, but she couldn’t simply ignore the girl. And so, with visible hesitation, she called on Ruri.

“Yeah… Let’s go, Mushiki.”

Ruri rose smoothly to her feet and, for some reason, put on a pair of sunglasses she produced out of nowhere with a dramatic schunk.

In perfect sync, Mushiki Kuga, also wearing sunglasses, rose from his seat nearby and crossed his arms as he stood back-to-back with Ruri.

The rest of the class stared blankly as the two marched confidently to the front of the room.

“R-Ruri…?”

“We’re gonna borrow the stage for a bit, Hizumi.”

Ruri took command of the podium, while Mushiki positioned himself at the computer behind it.

As Mushiki began operating the computer, the lights in the classroom dimmed with a soft flick, and a screen descended from the ceiling.

“Th-they’re using the projector…?!”

“Why are they so prepared for this…?”

“Who gave those lunatics access to advanced tech…?”

The classroom buzzed with confused chatter.

Ruri silenced everyone with a single, pointed cough, raising a hand to command the room’s full attention.

“Now then, let’s begin. I, Ruri Fuyajoh, along with Mushiki Kuga and Kuroe Karasuma, would like to propose—”

“Please don’t sneak my name in,” a girl with jet-black hair and eyes—Kuroe Karasuma—said flatly from her seat with a deadpan look.

Ruri paid her no mind, dramatically flinging out her arms.

“This!”

At her shout, large text popped up on-screen.

THE HUMANITY-WITCHIFICATION PROJECT

The classroom, which had been holding its collective breath, broke out into loud whispers and gasps.

Ruri basked in the reaction like a songbird enjoying her own tune.

“The question is, what’s the best way for the Garden to make a splash with our honored guests at the soiree? The answer is obvious—our one and only Madam Witch, Headmistress Saika Kuozaki!”

A photo appeared on-screen of a stunningly beautiful woman with iridescent, jewel-toned eyes.

The room erupted in applause and whistles. A closer look revealed this was mostly Mushiki behind her, clapping and cheering with all his might.

“She’s known as the world’s strongest mage, and she’s the very symbol of the Garden. So—” As she spoke, the screen changed again. “First, we saturate the Garden with Madam Witch’s presence.”

Next, the screen filled with concept images of every corner of the Garden grounds, decorated with motifs inspired by Saika. There were food stalls offering her favorite cupcakes and teas, masks of Saika’s face, and even a mascot character clearly modeled after a chibi version of her. The guests were all dressed in similar wigs and outfits to match her iconic look.

At this point, it felt less like a school festival and more like a full-fledged Saika-themed amusement park.

Hizumi, visibly sweating at this point, finally spoke up. “U-uh, Ruri? That kind of seems less like a class project and more like rewriting the event plan for the entire soiree…”

“…?”

“Wait, why are you looking at me like I’m the weird one?” Hizumi said in a high-pitched murmur.

“Listen,” Ruri continued, undeterred. “By becoming one with Madam Witch, we can elevate the stage of our very souls. This is just the first step. Starting here at the Garden, we’ll spread across Tokyo, then Japan, then the world! We’ll bathe the earth in Madam Witch’s glory! Arise, mages! For now begins the—”

But just as her rant was hitting its climax—

Smack! Smack!

A satisfying slap echoed twice through the room.

Kuroe had shown up out of nowhere to hit Ruri and Mushiki on the head with a slipper.

“…Huh?”

“W-wait, what were we just…?”

Ruri and Mushiki blinked, as if waking from a trance.

Kuroe grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and dragged them back to their seats.

With a strained smile, Hizumi watched them go, then cleared her throat. “All right, it looks like we’ve gathered enough ideas. Let’s decide the winner, Garden-style.”

The Garden-style method meant each person would write their vote on a slip of paper and drop their ballot in a box, before a class representative drew one at random. Essentially, it was a lottery.

This manner of selection ensured popular ideas had a better chance of winning thanks to increased volume, while also giving more unique proposals a shot at success, which was why Saika tended to favor it.

Of course, if a suggestion that was unfeasible or against school policy got selected, it would be disqualified, and the class representative would draw a new one.

“Oh, and Ruri? Your idea isn’t practical. Please write something more realistic, okay?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Duly noted.”

Ruri and Mushiki nodded obediently. It looked like whatever flight of fancy had possessed them a moment ago had finally left. Though that might have had something to do with the fact that Kuroe was still looming behind them.

One by one, the students wrote down their ideas and placed them into the box.

Once everyone had voted, Hizumi returned to the front of the room.

“Okay, here we go. The event for our class this year is—this one!”

She pulled out a slip and held it up high.

“Oooh…!”

Voices of surprise and delight rippled through the classroom.

Chapter 1: Parental Notifications Must Be Handled with Care

She was a most peculiar woman.

That said, she wasn’t dressed as a clown or dancing through the streets. She wasn’t trying to communicate with UFOs under her breath, and she definitely wasn’t chucking raspberry pies at random passersby.

At a glance, she looked perfectly ordinary—just a regular young woman, maybe around twenty years old, hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket, her long, braided hair swaying as she strolled down the street.

If you asked someone what exactly about her seemed off, most people would probably just tilt their heads and frown in confusion. That was how unremarkable she appeared.

But if you happened to look really closely—not at her specifically, but at the space around her—you would start to notice something strange.

“…Brrr…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I dunno, I feel chilly all of a sudden…”

A student who passed her abruptly hugged his arms.

“—.”

“Huh? What’s going on, tech issues?”

“I can’t hear a thing.”

A street musician who had been singing so happily just a moment ago dropped his voice to a murmur.

“Waaah! Oooh…”

“Whoa. She just…stopped crying?”

A baby who had been bawling out her lungs abruptly fell silent.

Individually, none of these things would raise any red flags. Chances were, none of the people experiencing these abrupt shifts could have explained why they’d happened, either.

Because really, the woman hadn’t done anything at all.

She was just walking, heading toward her destination.

All that transpired was that a few particularly sensitive souls along the way had, on some instinctive level, picked up on something.

And then, along that same street—

“…”

She came to a halt, slowly gazing up at the sky.

“…Again?”

A few seconds later, the people around her looked up as well, as if following her lead.

The reason was simple. The sky, which had been cloudless just moments ago, suddenly dimmed, as though a piece of it had been carved away. From that darkened gap, a massive creature began to emerge.

A long, reptilian face, horns curling from its head—it looked like a dragon out of some ancient legend, or maybe a kaiju from an old monster movie.

“Huh…?”

“What the hell is that…?”

“No way. I need to take a pic—”

People’s reactions varied wildly. But they all froze the moment the creature fully appeared and unleashed a torrent of fire down on the earth.

“Aaahhh!”

“Holy crap, run!”

“Is this for real?! What’s going on?!”

Flames spiraled across the cityscape, licking the sides of tall buildings as screams and curses filled the air.

Everyone around her bolted, fleeing in all directions to get away from the monster. The busy city street became a human river of sheer panic.

But the woman just stood there.

She wasn’t paralyzed by fear. There wasn’t even a flicker of worry on her face. Her gaze remained steady, calmly following the rampaging beast.

“Agh…!”

A small girl came running and slammed into the woman from the front, falling onto her backside with a thump.

Only then did the woman take her eyes off the monster and look down at the girl.

“…”

“S-sorry… I-I’m really sorry…”

The girl trembled under the woman’s heavy, somber gaze, her voice quivering. She looked as though she had just run from one monster only to run smack into another.

But the woman didn’t scold the girl or raise her voice. Instead, she bent down and held out a hand.

“…Can you stand?”

“Uh… Y-yeah, I think so…”

The girl blinked in surprise, then hesitantly took her hand and let the woman help her to her feet.

“…Are you alone? Where’s your family?”

“Um… I got separated… I just started running, so I don’t know where they went…”

“…I see.”

The woman delivered a soft, almost absent-minded reply, then gave the girl a clumsy pat on the head. After that, she turned and started walking again.

In the opposite direction from everyone else.

Toward the chaos and carnage, where the creature was still tearing up the city.

“Wait—miss! That way’s dangerous!”

“…I’ll be fine. Go find somewhere to hide.”

She said this casually, brushing off the girl’s worries—then turned her eyes back to the monster.

“…I have something important to take care of. Sorry, but we’re going to have to pretend this never happened.”

“Ah! Ruri! Pâtissier Saika is near the next Witch Portal!”

“You’re kidding?! I already used my last batch on the Madam Witch at the Archery Club earlier—I’m low on cupcakes!”

“Same here… Ugh, I’ve gotta buy more, fast…!”

“Augh! Hold out, my hazard pay! Triple spending, let’s gooo!”

“…What exactly are you two doing?”

While Mushiki Kuga and Ruri Fuyajoh were wildly tapping away at their phones in the back of the car, the girl sitting to their left leaned over, a suspicious look on her face. The girl had jet-black eyes and hair, skin like porcelain, and an expression as flat as a doll’s; this was Kuroe Karasuma, attendant to Saika Kuozaki.

Mushiki and Ruri glanced at each other, then turned toward her with puzzled expressions.

“What do you mean, what are we doing…?”

“We’re playing Kuozaki-GO.”

“…The mystery only deepens,” Kuroe answered with half-lidded eyes.

Once they finished frantically tapping their screens, Mushiki and Ruri exchanged a loud high five, then turned their phones toward Kuroe.

“It’s a GPS-based mobile game made by Hilde. It syncs with real-world maps, so your character moves with you as you walk around.”

“Yeah. It’s designed for walking, but if you play while riding in a car like this, the map zooms around like crazy. It makes the game way more intense!”

“And this Pâtissier Saika is…?”

“Ah, see, you get all these different versions of Saika showing up on the map.”

“You give cupcakes and tea to Madam Witches scattered all over the country, and in return, you get to take their picture.”

“I see. So you don’t catch them or defeat them?” Kuroe said with perfect composure.

Mushiki and Ruri both turned pale at the sheer blasphemy of her question.

“Wh-what are you saying, Kuroe?! That’s totally out of line…”

“Haven’t you ever heard of ethical compliance…?”

“Can we talk about how this game is blatantly ignoring Saika’s image rights first?” Kuroe let out a faint sigh, then continued in her usual monotone, “I suppose it’s good that you’re both relaxed, but we’re almost at our destination. Mushiki, you haven’t forgotten what today is about, have you?”

“Of course not.”

Mushiki tucked his phone away and sat up straight. Following his lead, Ruri also composed herself, her twin braids swaying gently.

Right. They weren’t just on a fun road trip.

The car wasn’t driving around Void’s Garden or the institute’s off-campus training grounds. It was on the outside—the city, where regular people who had nothing to do with mages went about their everyday lives.

Mushiki had an important meeting here, one he couldn’t afford to mess up.

“I will get her approval to transfer in.”

He exhaled, trying to release the tension building in his chest and clenching his fists with quiet resolve.

A few days earlier, Mushiki had received a call from his older sister, who lived on the outside.

She had heard about him transferring from his original high school to a boarding school without telling anyone, and she had called to check in out of concern. It was a completely reasonable move that left Mushiki with zero room to argue.

Not that he had ever meant to leave her in the dark.

Half a year ago, he had suffered a near-fatal wound in an incident. To save his life, the headmistress of Void’s Garden, Saika Kuozaki, had merged bodies with him.

Since then, he had been living a strange dual existence—sometimes as himself, other times as Saika.

“But I must say, I’m surprised to learn you and Ruri have an older sister. She isn’t part of the Fuyajoh clan, I take it?” Kuroe asked, looking back and forth between them.

Mushiki and Ruri nodded, both of them crossing their arms.

“Yeah. She’s my dad’s daughter from a previous marriage. So technically, we’re half-siblings.”

“Right. She’s got nothing to do with the Fuyajoh name. She’s not a mage, either. I was raised as a ward of the Fuyajoh family, so we didn’t see each other all that much. But for Mushiki, she was pretty much his guardian.”

“Really? Is your father still around?” Kuroe asked.

Mushiki scratched his cheek with a sheepish smile. “My dad’s not really the stick around type. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing these days…”

“…I see. We did report your transfer to your guardian through the administration office, but it appears your father never passed that information on to your sister. My apologies. That was an oversight on our part.”

Kuroe’s brows pinched ever so slightly. Whether this was out of anger at the school’s administration staff or frustration at herself for missing it, it was hard to say.

“No, really, don’t worry about it. It was pretty chaotic back then, anyway… Besides, my dad’s the one who should have mentioned it to her, so I’m the one who should say sorry.” Mushiki bowed slightly.

Ruri nodded emphatically beside him. “Exactly. You’ve got nothing to feel bad about, Kuroe. Expecting anything from that deadbeat dad of ours is the real mistake.”

“Let’s not go that far.” Kuroe narrowed her eyes, then turned toward Ruri like she had just remembered something. “Speaking of which, Ruri.”

“What?”

“Since you’re coming along, am I right in assuming you’ll be joining Mushiki for the meeting with your sister?”

“Ah… Uh…” Ruri pulled a grim face, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. “Well…I was thinking maybe I shouldn’t be there…?”

“Why not? She’s your sister, too, isn’t she?”

“Well, yeah… But if she finds out I go to the same school as Mushiki, we’re just gonna have more to explain… And I don’t really get along with her…”

“Then why come in the first place?” Kuroe asked, fixing her with a penetrating stare.

Ruri clenched her fists and fired back, “Because I’m still family, right? I’ve gotta be there to witness it, as, like, a responsible person! Are you saying I shouldn’t have come?!”

“I’m not bothered either way… But I imagine Nagekawa is currently simmering with rage while she handles the preparations for the Garden Night Soiree by herself.”

“Ugh…!”

Ruri broke out into another sweat at Kuroe’s pointed jab.

The Garden Night Soiree, held every October, was one of the school’s biggest events. It included research presentations, lectures, plays, food stalls, you name it. Students from other mage-training institutes like the Tower, the Ark, the Peak, and the City would also be attending. It wasn’t something you could afford to slack off on.

While the class project had been decided back in the summer, the preparations were just now hitting full stride. Hizumi, who had been stuck serving on the organizing committee since the Spirit Festival, was rapidly losing both her humanity and the sparkle in her eyes.

“Okay, can we not say scary stuff like that? Besides, Kuroe, you and Mushiki are skipping class as well!”

“Yes, but we received permission to leave.”

“Wha—wait, what about me?!”

“How do you expect me to get approval for someone who just dove into the car right before we set off?”

But just as Kuroe said that, all three of their phones rang with the same shrill alarm.

“…! That’s—”

“An annihilation factor alert. It gets sent out automatically to any mage within a ten-kilometer radius of the epicenter while on the outside.”

“You’re saying there’s an annihilation factor out there?” Mushiki pulled his phone back out, his expression hardening.

Annihilation factors—entities with the potential to destroy the world. They came in all shapes and sizes—monsters, disasters, plagues, and more…

On average, one would appear every three hundred hours or so. Mages like Mushiki and the others were tasked with eliminating them.

“Then we have to move out—”

“No need. I can handle this one solo,” Ruri declared. “Go keep your appointment, Mushiki. As long as I neutralize the annihilation factor within the window for reversible annihilation, it’ll be like it never happened. So don’t think you can use this as an excuse for being late.”

“But—”

“What, are you worried about me? Don’t underestimate an S-class mage.”

“I know you’re stronger than me, Ruri. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay sending my little sister off alone.”

“Ugh, Mushiki, you’ve gotta stop doing that! That kind of offhand comment can make girls catch feelings, you know?! I’m fine with it, but don’t go saying that to just anyone, all right?!” Ruri, her face bright red, jabbed him so hard in the cheek with a finger that it hurt.

Kuroe, watching from the sidelines, sighed like a tired teacher. “Both of you, check your messages. There’s already a report of a successful elimination.”

“Huh?”

Eyes wide, they both looked down at their screens.

Just as Kuroe had said, there was a message indicating the annihilation factor had already been neutralized.

“No way. That fast?”

“Strictly speaking, there’s a difference between emergence and detection. There’s always some lag before the alert. This is rare, but if a mage happened to be at the scene when the annihilation factor appeared, it wouldn’t be unheard of for them to eliminate it quickly.”

“I see…”

Mushiki gave a small nod of understanding, while Ruri tilted her head and murmured, “…Huh?”

“What is it, Ruri?”

“It’s just, the person who eliminated the threat is listed as Unknown.”

“Hmm…?” Kuroe dropped her gaze back to the screen.

Mushiki tilted his head slightly and asked, “Unknown…? Does that mean the system doesn’t know who stopped it?”

“That’s right. It could just be a delay in authentication… But if someone unaffiliated with the Garden or another official organization defeats an annihilation factor, the incident can end up recorded like this.”

“Are you telling me one of those rogue mages took it down? This doesn’t really feel like the sort of thing they would do…”

“There’s no single type of rogue mage. Some, like Salix and the others we encountered recently, use magic purely for personal gain. Others follow ancient teachings in an attempt to reach some kind of ultimate truth. Then there are those who simply aren’t registered with any official body.”

“I see… So it’s possible a mage like that just happened to be there when the annihilation factor showed up and took it down?”

“That’s one possibility. Or perhaps—” Kuroe paused there, narrowing her eyes. “There are other situations where the name of the mage who stopped the annihilation factor would be unknown.”

“Huh…?” Mushiki blinked in surprise.

Other situations? He couldn’t think of any kind of mage aside from official and unaffiliated ones.

Kuroe must have sensed Mushiki’s confusion, as she continued, “We’ve been seeing more and more cases over the past few years where the eliminator is unknown. If they were a rogue mage, there should have been lingering traces of magic at the scene—but there haven’t been any.”

“So then… Are you saying someone other than a mage has been defeating them?”

“It’s hard to say. Fighting an annihilation factor without magic would be incredibly difficult. Realistically, it seems more likely that a rogue mage is deliberately erasing all traces of themselves to avoid being identified. However…”

Just then, the car came to a stop, and the driver from the Garden turned around in the front seat. “We’ve arrived.”

“Thank you,” Kuroe replied. After checking the time out of the corner of her eye, she turned to Mushiki. “I’ll let you know when we have more details on the annihilation factor. I know it’s concerning, but right now, you need to focus on bringing your sister around. You have the materials, I hope?”

“Y-yes.” He nodded, his expression a little tense.

“If you’re feeling nervous,” she continued in her usual calm tone, “I can remain nearby, just in case.”

But both Mushiki and Ruri shook their heads.

“No, that’s…”

“Better not.”

Kuroe raised an eyebrow at their reactions. “May I ask why?”

Mushiki and Ruri exchanged quick glances before nodding.

“It’s just… My sister has really sharp instincts. She’d probably notice if someone was hanging around nearby.”

“Exactly. And you’re meeting her at a chain restaurant, right? That place has sharp metal objects like forks and knives lying around. Trying to surveil her in a spot like that would be way too dangerous.”

“What kind of lady is this sister of yours?” Kuroe asked, perplexed. Eventually, however, she gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “If you both insist, I’ll stay out of sight. Please take these earpieces, then. If necessary, I’ll provide you both with instructions.”

“We can’t do that, either.”

“Better not.”

Kuroe frowned slightly. “May I ask why this is also unacceptable?”

Mushiki and Ruri nodded as if the answer was obvious. “Those devices are small, sure, but depending on the angle, you might still be able to see them in someone’s ear, right? My sister would probably catch on right away.”

“Exactly. If you’re curious about what we’re saying, the most you could do with those things is pick up audio. And even then, I’d say you should use a smartphone app instead of an actual bugging device. That woman has a sixth sense for sketchy electronics. She can practically see radio waves.”

“…What kind of lady is this sister of yours?” Kuroe asked again. For once, her normally composed exterior betrayed a hint of nervousness. “Well, if you insist, I won’t push the issue. In that case…”

She gave a short sigh, brushed her hair back, and selected a single strand. “Let’s do this the mage’s way.”

And with that, she pulled the hair from her head—snap.

“Your hand, Mushiki.”

“Huh? Oh, okay…”

Doing as instructed, he held out his palm. Kuroe quietly chanted something, infused the strand of hair with magic, and tied it around his little finger.

“What’s this?” he asked.

A simple telepathic link. Kuroe’s voice echoed in his head.

“Whoa!”

Mushiki instinctively pressed a hand to his temple, eyes wide.

“My apologies. I thought it would be faster if you experienced it for yourself,” Kuroe said, aloud this time.

Mushiki, still a bit rattled, shook his head. “No, it’s…amazing, actually.”

“As a part of the human body that’s easy to remove, hair holds strong magical significance. If pre-enchanted, it’s also beginner-friendly. To the untrained eye, our telepathic link should look like a strand of hair tied around your finger. If your sister isn’t a mage, she won’t suspect a thing.”

“I see… But if it’s this handy, then why haven’t you used it before?”

“This method of communication has more limitations than you might expect—range, duration, that sort of thing. It’s not without downsides. It’s useful for situations like this, but overall, communication devices are still more reliable. Though it would be a different story between seasoned mages.”

Mushiki nodded along in understanding.

“But as it is,” Kuroe continued, “your connection is only one-way. May I have a strand of your hair, too, Mushiki?”

“Like this?” He pulled out a strand and handed it to her.

Kuroe chanted again, imbuing it with magic. “Please tie this around my finger.”

“Eh? Are you sure that’s okay?”

“…What kind of question is that?” Kuroe fixed him with a hard stare.

Mushiki blushed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then tied the hair—not around her ring finger, but around her pinky.

Kuroe flexed her fingers a bit to get a feel for it, then said, “Now focus your thoughts on the strand tied to my pinky and concentrate on visualizing something.”

“…Like what?”

“Anything is fine. This is just a test to see if the link works. Words might be easiest.”

“Hmm… Okay…”

Being able to choose anything somehow made it feel even harder. He frowned slightly, then crossed his arms, thinking.

At that moment, Ruri rushed over. “Mushiki, take a look at this.”

“Hmm? What’s—?”

He froze midsentence, eyes wide.

But that was only natural. After all, Ruri was holding out her phone, perfectly angled to meet his gaze.

On the screen was a picture of a girl.

Hair like spun gold.

Iridescent eyes like living jewels.

A face so beautiful that it made him dizzy.

Yes. The girl was none other than Saika Kuozaki, the Witch of Resplendent Color, headmistress of Void’s Garden, and the world’s most powerful mage.

It wasn’t a posed photo, either, but a candid snapshot from everyday life. By the looks of the picture, it had been taken during a summer moment, with Saika accidentally spraying herself as she watered the garden. Caught in the sunlight, mist shimmering around her, she wore a small, wry smile.

The composition. The timing. The subject. It was perfect in every way.

The moment Mushiki laid eyes on it, his brain exploded with an impossible volume of thoughts.

She’s cute. Stunning. Beautiful. Luscious. Gorgeous. I’m in love. I’ve never seen anything like this. Was this before I joined the Garden? Just what kind of photo is this…? Saika watering the garden herself? What a rarity! The scattering droplets. The way her hair sticks to her cheek. That perfectly placed rainbow—was that deliberate? It’s unreal. Of course Ruri, as president-for-life of the Saika Kuozaki Appreciation Society, would have something like this. I’m proud to be her brother… Summer is the season of witches. Even more so when the garden is wet. It’s so charming. Stray hair clinging to her nape—beautiful. See-through fabric—also beautiful—

All of that, in 0.3 seconds.

Almost on instinct, he grabbed Ruri’s hand—the one holding the phone.

“P-President… What is this?”

“Who are you calling President?” Ruri gave him a flat stare. “It’s a shot from last summer. I’m kind of proud of it, actually. Best one I’ve ever taken.”

“Could I, uh…get a copy?”

“Ehhh? I dunno…,” Ruri teased, then nodded toward the passenger seat. “Anyway, look over there. That’s more important.”

“Huh?”

Mushiki glanced at the seat to his left, his eyes widening in surprise.

Seated there, Kuroe was staring blankly into space, like she had slipped into a daze.

“Kuroe? What’s wrong? Kuroe?”

“—.” She gave a little start at the sound of his voice, snapping back to reality. “Apologies… I think my brain locked up for a second after taking in too much information all at once.”

“Wait! Oh…”

At this, he glanced down at the strand of hair tied around his finger.

Could it be? Had all the thoughts that flashed through his mind the moment he saw the photo somehow been transmitted directly to her?

As if reading his mind, Ruri gave Mushiki a knowing, wicked nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly why you need to be careful how you use this method of communication. If you’re too mentally synced with someone, you might end up sending things you didn’t mean to.”

“…Ruri. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Kuroe said accusingly.

“Sorry about that… I just meant it as a little prank. It was way more effective than I was expecting, though… Hey, wait, is your face red?”

“Absolutely not.” Kuroe shot Ruri a cold glare, then cleared her throat and composed herself. “Moving on. If anything happens, I’ll send a thought-message. If you have a question or need to confirm something, just try thinking it at me.”

“Got it.”

“That said, this is only a support measure. Whether or not you can convince your sister ultimately depends on you, Mushiki.”

“I know. This is my issue to deal with. Besides, it’s not like she’s unreasonable. If I explain things honestly and accurately, I think she’ll understand,” he answered, his eyes burning with resolve.

Kuroe nodded, lowering her gaze slightly. “Then good luck.”

“Thanks.”

With that, Mushiki undid his seat belt, grabbed his bag, and stepped out of the car.

They were parked in the lot of a chain restaurant not far from where he used to live during his time on the outside. It was midday on a holiday, and the place was decently packed.

“…All right.”

Bracing himself, he headed into the restaurant.

It looked like his sister hadn’t arrived yet. After letting the staff know someone would be joining him, he settled into a booth by the window.

Ten minutes of jittery waiting passed, when—

An ear-piercing screech of brakes and the sound of a massive crash outside made him jump up in his seat.

“Wh-what the…?” he muttered.

…It seems there was an accident in front of the restaurant. Kuroe’s voice popped into his head. A truck crashed into the wall.

Ah… I see, Mushiki responded with a mental nod. Sounds like my sister’s here, then.

…Excuse me? Kuroe’s voice came back, clearly baffled.

Moments later, the restaurant door swung open—and in strode a woman trailing a dense cloud of smoke.

“…”

She was a young woman, maybe around twenty, with long, braided hair running down her back. Her eyes, visible through her long bangs, were shadowed and heavy, like she had just lost someone dear to her. But Mushiki knew she wasn’t angry or disillusioned. That was just her natural resting state.

A light jacket, hot pants, black tights. The guitar case slung over her back gave her a slightly quirky aura, making her look like an avant-garde indie musician. Combined with the smoke and soot she was covered in, she looked like a rock singer who had just gone too hard with the pyrotechnics during a show.

“W-welcome, ma’am…? Are you alone?” A waitress, visibly taken aback by the woman’s extraordinary atmosphere, approached hesitantly.

“…Meeting someone. I think they’re already here,” the woman answered in a quiet voice.

After scanning the restaurant, she set off toward Mushiki.

“Mado!” he called out.

“…Sorry I’m late,” she murmured back. “Have you been here long?”

Yes. This was the person he had been waiting for.

Madoka Kuga—his and Ruri’s half sister.

“No, I just got here as well.”

“…I see.”

“Anyway, are you okay? That crash made a huge noise.”

“…Yeah. A truck came barreling right in front of me. The driver must have fallen asleep at the wheel. I pulled him out to make sure he was all right. Some other people said they would call an ambulance.”

“Oh… That’s rough.”

“…Happens all the time,” Madoka said, placing her guitar case on the bench and seating herself next to it.

A moment later, Kuroe’s voice sounded in his head again. Mushiki?

Yes? he answered mentally.

What was that? It sounded quite important.

Ah… Yeah, my sister has always had really bad luck. A tree might fallon her when she’s walking down the street, or a steel beam might drop from above. She always acts like it’s no big deal, though.

That goes beyond bad luck. If she keeps coming out of it fine, maybe it’s actually good fortune?

Hmm. You make a compelling point. It’s amazing how language shapes perception, huh?

That wasn’t meant to be a motivational quote.

Right as Kuroe finished, a waitress approached carrying a silver tray. “Welcome! Here’s your water and—w-whoa?!”

The employee slipped, sending the glasses and hot towels flying into the air.

“…”

Without so much as flinching, Madoka reached out and snatched each of the items in midair.

But that was her limit—she still ended up with a splash of water over her head.

The waitress, pale as a sheet, bowed in panic. “I-I’m so sorry, ma’am…!”

“…Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time. I was covered in soot anyway, so it works out.” Madoka dabbed her face with the towel, unfazed.

…I see. That’s certainly an extraordinary level of bad luck.

Right? She’s used to it at this point, though.

Kuroe sounded more incredulous than anything else. Mushiki responded with a quiet laugh in his mind.

After reassuring the flustered waitress, Madoka ordered a drink.

“…Been a while,” she began at last once the coffee and tea arrived at the table.

“Yeah. Still the same old you. Are you doing okay?”

“…No real issues. You?”

“Yeah, I’m doing all right.” Mushiki gave a small nod and a smile.

The truth was, he had come dangerously close to dying a few months back, but there was no need to worry her about that now.

Still, after she heard his answer, Madoka’s brow twitched ever so slightly.

“…Did something happen? Were you hurt? Sick?”

“Eh? Uh, no, I mean—”

Caught off guard, Mushiki fumbled for a response.

But then he stopped and reconsidered… Right. That was how Madoka was. He could never figure out how, but his sister had an uncannily sharp intuition. If he tried to dodge the question, she would only grow more suspicious. And so he let out a small sigh.

“…Well, something did happen a while back. But I’m fine now, really. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“…I see.”

He hadn’t divulged any important information, but he hadn’t lied to her, either.

Madoka gave him a slow nod, accepting his explanation for the time being.

Not lying was crucial in any communication with Madoka. She didn’t like being dodged or misled. If there was something you couldn’t say, you just had to tell her that. She might come off as inflexible at first glance, but Madoka, for her part, wasn’t the kind of person to dig into things you clearly wanted to keep private.

Of course, there were exceptions.

Like when the other person was clearly in the wrong. Or if hiding the truth would only end up hurting them.

Say, for example—

If her younger brother, who was essentially under her care, suddenly transferred schools without saying so much as a word.

In that case, Madoka Kuga’s scrutinizing eye for detail would become downright terrifying.

“…So, Mushiki,” she said, her voice cold and quiet, sending a chill down his spine. “Mind telling me what’s going on here? Why did you change high schools behind my back?”

…Yes, she was turning her big sister pressure up to eleven. Mushiki felt a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

Still, he couldn’t keep shrinking away forever. Like he was slogging through thick mud, he forced his mouth to move.

“S-sorry, Mado. A lot of stuff happened. I swear, I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you.”

“…Hmm. Then why didn’t I hear a word about it until now?”

“I thought Dad knew. I figured he would have said something…”

“…No.”

“Right…”

Mushiki grimaced. This was exactly what he had expected, but it still wasn’t great.

Madoka, on the other hand, only seemed more suspicious of him now. Her eyes narrowed with a ghostly glare as she pressed on. “…So you told that deadbeat father of ours but didn’t say a word to me?”

“N-no, that’s not what happened. The school handled all the paperwork, including notifying my guardian. I just assumed that meant they had contacted you.”

“…The school?” Her brow creased slightly. “You mean a woman called Saika Kuozaki?”

“—.” Mushiki froze for half a second, his breath catching in his throat.

His sister had brought up Saika’s name before, during their call the other day.

He exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. “How do you know that name…?”

“…There was a document from her in your mailbox.”

“Ah… Right. That makes sense.”

He nodded, finally understanding.

He didn’t know what specifically the document was, but it was probably from the Garden. In that case, it wasn’t surprising that Saika would be listed on it as the person in charge.

Then Madoka added, almost casually, “By the way, your mailbox was stuffed full. Did you not put in a mail forwarding request when you moved to the boarding school?”

“Oh… R-right. Sorry.”

He had completely forgotten. He shrank apologetically.

“…Whatever.” Madoka shrugged and gestured for him to keep going. “So what exactly is going on?”

“Um… It’s a bit of a special case. Kind of complicated. How should I put it…? I guess you could say I was scouted?”

“…Scouted?” She tilted her head, clearly not following. “By whom? You weren’t in any sports clubs, were you?”

“Ah… Right, that’s true…,” he mumbled vaguely as he folded his arms.

Just as his sister said, Mushiki hadn’t belonged to any sports teams at his previous school. And it wasn’t like he had been a top-tier honor student, either. So why would another school want to scout someone like him? The more he thought about it, the stranger it sounded, even to himself.

“A-anyway, it was kind of an unusual offer, but it came with some really great conditions. They said they would handle the transfer paperwork and notify my guardian and all that, so I just let them take care of it. But yes, I should have confirmed everything myself. And I should have told you. I really am sorry… But believe me, I wasn’t trying to shut you out.”

“…”

Madoka stared at him in silence as he met her eyes. At last, she let out a long breath and crossed her arms.

She didn’t look satisfied. Not even close. There was definitely a storm of words waiting behind those lips. But for now, it seemed she was at least willing to hear him out.

She spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “…So what’s the school like?”

“Huh?”

“The school you transferred to. What kind of place is it?”

“Ah, right…!” He nodded quickly as he pulled a large pamphlet from his bag.

Kuroe had given it to him earlier—a brochure for the private Garden Academy.

It wasn’t fake. Not exactly.

The mage-training institute to which he belonged, Void’s Garden, publicly presented itself as a typical educational institution.

That made sense, when you stopped to think about it. After all, the campus was huge. Even with all the cloaking and anti-recognition barriers surrounding it, hiding the comings and goings of people and vehicles would be impossible.

So rather than having people in the surrounding neighborhoods see it as some shady facility where no one really knew what was going on inside, it was easier for everyone for the administration to pass off Void’s Garden as a standard boarding school. That way, even when uniformed students (who also happened to be mages) were out and about, they wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

And most importantly, for cases like Mushiki’s—kids from non-magical families being brought into the fold—it made explaining things to guardians that much easier.

Technically, as long as the Garden approved it, close relatives or legal guardians could be told about magic, annihilation factors, and other confidential information.

But just because you told them the truth didn’t mean people would believe it. Mushiki had heard about several cases of angry parents storming the gates, convinced their child had been recruited into a cult.

That was why it was crucial to have a legitimate public-facing identity.

Apparently, the Garden even had an area within the campus set up for visitors, just to keep up appearances.

“This is the school brochure,” he said, holding it out. “Here.”

“…Hmm.” Madoka took it, quickly skimming through the pages.

After a little while, she looked up.

“…I see. From the looks of this, it doesn’t seem like a bad place.”

“Right?” Mushiki leaned forward, glad to see her expression had softened.

The brochure might have given only surface-level information, but he still appreciated the praise.

And yet—

“…But there’s something I can’t figure out,” Madoka murmured in a near-whisper, her eyes narrowing.

“Huh?”

“…I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the school. But transferring like this should be a huge deal for any student. What made you decide this was the right move? You weren’t unhappy at your old school, were you? And you’re not the kind of person to throw away your old place just because a new one invited you. Especially without talking to me first.”

“M-Mado…”

“…Answer me, Mushiki. There had to be a better reason you decided to transfer. What was it?”

His sister locked eyes with Mushiki, fixing him with a stare so sharp that it could have pierced straight through him.

It was the kind of pressure that made him feel like she really was seeing through to the bottom of his soul. Mushiki couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe properly, letting out a shallow breath like he was being crushed.

Of course, Madoka couldn’t actually read his mind. But instinctively, he knew—there was no point lying. In fact, trying would only make things worse.

“…”

He clenched his fists, bracing himself.

Kuroe had already given him permission ahead of time—if Madoka could be convinced by surface-level information, great. But if it came down to it, revealing the truth about magic and annihilation factors wasn’t off the table.

Still, it was a gamble.

This was his sister. She would know he wasn’t lying, but she might still believe the school had somehow deceived him. Or worse—if she did believe everything, she might react the way Ruri had a few months earlier and refuse to accept the idea of him risking his life in battle. Either way, things were likely to get even more complicated.

But all the same, trying to weasel his way out of this with some half-truth clearly wasn’t going to work. No matter how things played out, he would have to tell her—he was fighting for the world now, as a mage.

“The truth is, Mado…”

But just as he started to speak, he stopped himself.

A mental image flashed across his mind—of Saika—and with it, a question.

Was that really why he had joined Void’s Garden? To fight as a mage against annihilation factors?

He wasn’t entirely sure.

Sure, that had something to do with it. Learning the truth about the world and feeling like he had no choice but to do battle—that wasn’t a lie.

But it didn’t feel like the real answer to Madoka’s question.

Her words echoed in his head. There had to be a better reason you decided to transfer.

The real reason he had enrolled at Void’s Garden.

The real reason he was fighting annihilation factors.

There was only one answer.

“…So? What is it?” Madoka’s voice was tinged with doubt after she had seen him trail off midsentence.

Mushiki looked his sister straight in the eyes, the answer solidifying in his heart.

“The truth is…I’ve found someone I want to be with.”

He said it plainly, with a clear gaze and no hesitation.

“…”

What followed was a long silence.

Madoka didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She didn’t even breathe, as far as Mushiki could tell. She just froze.

Well, that was understandable. That definitely wasn’t the kind of explanation she would have expected as to why he had changed schools.

“…So what you’re saying is…” After a pause that felt like an eternity, she finally continued, as if her brain had just finished buffering. “You transferred schools because there’s someone you want to marry?”

“Yeah. I mean, there’s a bit more to it than that, but that’s pretty much it.”

“…What’s their name?”

“Huh?”

“…The person. What’s their name?”

Her voice had gone flat. She was practically glaring now.

Mushiki swallowed, then forced himself to answer. “Saika Kuozaki.”

“…”

At that, Madoka put a hand to her forehead like she was trying to stave off a headache.

Again, not surprising—she had just heard that name earlier as one of the school staff.

She was quiet for a moment, then chose her words carefully. “…You really went all in, huh? You couldn’t just wait till graduation? I get wanting to be with someone you care about, but—”

“Ah, sorry—she’s not my girlfriend or anything.”

“…Hmm?” Madoka blinked, her head tilting slightly in disbelief. “…She isn’t?”

“No.”

“…But you’re planning to marry her?”

Mushiki scratched his cheek. “Uh, well, that part’s kind of complicated, too. I haven’t gotten a clear answer from her yet.”

“…”

Madoka was silent for a few seconds, then pulled out her phone. “…Student… Marriage scam… Lawyer consultation…”

“Wait, Mado. Please. Hold on.”

He had a bad feeling about those keywords. He rushed to stop her.

“It’s not like that. Calm down. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“…Are you sure? She works at your school, doesn’t she? How do you know you’re not just being used to boost enrollment numbers?”

“I-it’s not like that at all. If anything, I’m the one who chased after her. It was love at first sight, and I just went for it.”

Madoka’s eyebrows twitched. “…So you fell in love at first sight, and even though you’re not dating her, you transferred to her school?”

“Well… Yeah, I guess that’s about right.”

“…And now you’ve proposed?”

“Technically, I just asked her to give me the right to propose someday,” he admitted with a shy laugh.

Madoka glanced back down at her phone. “…Brother… Stalker… Rehabilitation methods…”

“Wait, Mado. Stop.”

Her search terms seemed even worse this time. Mushiki all but lunged to stop her.

“I know it’s hard to explain, but I promise, it’s nothing you need to worry about. Nothing bad has happened,” he insisted.

“…”

Maybe she believed him, maybe she didn’t. After a few more seconds of silence, however, she slowly put her phone away.

Mushiki let out a sigh of relief, then straightened up again.

“Anyway. It took me a while to get there, but that’s the real reason. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I’m really sorry for springing it on you after the fact.” He looked his sister in the eye. “I’m serious about this. Please, let me stay.”

“…”

Madoka frowned slightly, arms crossed as she gave it some thought—then slowly shook her head. “…No. I can’t do that.”

“What—?!” he practically shouted in disbelief.

But she held up a hand to stop him, her tone steady. “This isn’t something I can decide on the spot. Just looking at the pamphlet isn’t enough. I need to see this school for myself,” she said, tapping a finger on the brochure spread out on the table before her.

“I—I… Uh…” Mushiki stumbled over his words, caught off guard by her request.

Yes, he had been given permission to disclose confidential information if absolutely necessary—but letting someone actually visit the Garden was another matter entirely. That wasn’t something he could decide on his own.

As he scrambled for an answer, a voice echoed in his mind, perfectly timed. It’s fine. Your sister’s request is understandable. Please go ahead and invite her to the Garden.

…Really? You’re sure, Kuroe? he responded mentally.

Yes, she answered without hesitation. In fact, you’re currently one of the most important people in the Garden. There’s nothing to lose by having your guardian understand the situation. Actually, the Garden Night Soiree is happening next week, and plenty of other outside guests will be attending. It’s the perfect opportunity.

O-okay, got it.

With that, Mushiki turned back to Madoka.

She raised a brow, eyeing him suspiciously. “…What was with that pause just now? Were you having a telepathic chat with someone?”

“J-just thinking, that’s all!”

Too sharp, as always. He could feel the cold sweat trickling down his back.

“…Anyway. Can I visit?”

“Sure. I’d really like for you to come. How’s the fifteenth, the week after next?”

“…All right. I’ll keep it open,” Madoka said, then took the bill from the table and rose to her feet. “Well then, I’ll head out first. I’ve got something after this.”

“Huh? What exactly?”

“…Part-time work. Or something like that.”

“Oh. Sorry for keeping you when you’re busy.”

“…Don’t worry about it. I’ll be in touch.”

She turned to leave, only to pause after a few steps.

“…Just to make sure—when I come for the visit, you will be introducing me to this person you’ve set your heart on, right?”

“Huh? Ah… Yeah. Of course.”

“…Hmm.”

With that short response, she walked off.

Mushiki watched her go, then let out a long breath.

That could have gone much worse. Things were still up in the air depending on how the visit went, but for now, it looked like he’d pulled through.

“…Oh.”

Only then did it hit him.

“…Wait. How am I supposed to introduce Madoka to Saika?”

“…”

As she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze, Kuroe’s brow twitched slightly.

In the rearview mirror, Ruri wore a look of subtle annoyance.

“Is something bothering you, Ruri? You look like a steamed bun with a cracked top.”

“Can’t you think of a better metaphor for pouting?”

Ruri puffed out her cheeks even more in response to Kuroe’s comment, exactly like a piece of dough rising in the oven.

“Anyway, you’re listening in on their conversation through the hair-link, right? Let me in on it, too,” she said, pointing to Kuroe’s little finger.

Kuroe shook her head. “I’m afraid this connection is single-user only.”

“Come on, you can let me listen in, right? Tie the extra length to my finger.”

“But if someone saw us with our pinkies connected, that could ignite rumors… It would be problematic.”

“What’s with the dainty-girl routine all of a sudden?! That is so not your character!”

The next moment, Ruri narrowed her eyes, as if just realizing something.

“…Wait. What’s with that face? Are you actually embarrassed?”

“Hah?”

“Your cheeks and ears are turning red.”

Kuroe glanced at her reflection in the side mirror. While her face hadn’t changed expression, sure enough, her cheeks and ears were faintly flushed.

Of course, what she had said earlier was just meant as banter. There was a good chance that Mushiki and Madoka had talked about something she wasn’t supposed to hear. That was why she had cut the transmission. It had nothing to do with embarrassment.

Which meant this reaction was…

“…”

Without a word, Kuroe gave her cheeks two light smacks.

The sudden action made Ruri stare in surprise.

“Uh, what was that? Are you okay?”

“Just trying to get into the spirit of things a little. I might have turned a bit red.”

“A-are you seriously trying to reverse-engineer cause and effect here…?”

Clearly unsure of what to make of that logic, Ruri gave Kuroe a deeply skeptical look, beads of sweat forming at her temple.

It wasn’t quite what she had planned, but it did the trick; Ruri’s attention had been successfully diverted. Kuroe let out a quiet sigh.

Yes. There was no way she could let Ruri find out that she may have blushed, just a little, at something she had overheard Mushiki say through the hair-link.

On a moonless night, stepping into the mountains means stepping into another world.

At least, so said an old saying popular around these parts.

Then again, that wasn’t particularly unique. Similar warnings are common anywhere the wilderness still holds sway. Mountains are dangerous by nature—even more so in the dark. Predators roam where they hide by day, and familiar trails twist into paths to the underworld. It’s no wonder such places may be described as other worlds.

In short, it was folklore—a cautionary tale meant to scare children into behaving. Don’t stay up too late or ghosts will come get you. Disobey your parents, and demons will appear. If you wander into the mountains at night, you’ll vanish without a trace, swallowed by spirits. Back when the darkness of night still ruled with real authority, the world had been far more alive with the strange and the eerie, and stories like this were whispered everywhere.

But if there was one thing that set this region’s legend apart from all the rest, it was that, in these mountains, the otherworld was real.

“…I have news.”

In a village sealed off from the outside world by enchanted barriers, deep within a vast Japanese-style mansion that twisted like a maze, a middle-aged man bowed respectfully as he spoke.

The room he stood in was dimly lit, surrounded on all sides by ornate sliding screens. Beyond the paper panels, soft light flickered, casting the wavering shadows of several figures sitting just out of view.

“Blunt has arrived.”

At these words, the shadows behind the paper screens stirred with obvious satisfaction.

“Oh-ho, so they’ve come.”

“We’ve waited—oh, how we’ve waited.”

“At last… The time to fulfill our long-cherished wish is at hand.”

Three raspy voices echoed from different directions.

There was no mistaking it—all of them were elderly. Yet even through their worn voices, a strange, overpowering presence radiated.

But that was no surprise. These were none other than the elder sorcerers, the heads of a magical bloodline present in this region since ancient times.

This place was the otherworld—the hidden stronghold of the rogue mage family known as the Azamura clan.

“Blunt will surely be able to right the wrongs we’ve suffered.”

“Our long-awaited vengeance…”

“Our blood feud with that wretched witch will finally be settled.”

Their voices, now carrying both bitterness and joy, blended together in a low murmur.

Blunt—the most feared assassin in the criminal underworld. They were known for accepting only the jobs they personally found interesting and for charging an outrageous price for their services. A whimsical reaper. But once Blunt took a job, it was said that no one on earth could escape their fangs.

The elders had spent years and considerable effort just to make contact.

“Quickly now—”

“Bring Blunt here.”

“At once,” the man in the center of the room answered, before bowing deeply and stepping outside.

Moments later, a tremendous crash and tremor echoed from without.

“Wh-what was that?!”

“Are we under attack?”

“Impossible! The village is shielded by powerful wards!”

Panic broke out among the elders.

Then, with a loud slam, a paper screen slid open. Smoke billowed in, and through it stepped a single figure.

It was a young woman—so young she still looked like a girl. But the sheer intensity emanating from her made her come across more like a monster in human form.

“…The floorboards in the hall were rotted. You might want to do something about that,” she said, brushing her disheveled bangs back with one hand.

The elders, clearly sweating behind the screens, scrambled to respond.

“Ah, o-our apologies.”

“We weren’t aware.”

“We’ll have them rebuilt and reinforced.”

Clearing their throats, they tried to regain their composure.

“A-anyway, we’re honored you came.”

“There’s something we wish to ask of you—something only you can do.”

“Please, destroy that vile, twisted, sadistic witch once and for all.”

“…Witch?” The woman—Blunt—raised an eyebrow at the word.

The elders nodded grimly, their voices seething with old grudges.

“Yes. A century ago, she drove us from our rightful land to this forsaken corner of the world.”

“She claimed herself the true heir, purged any mages who defied her, and now rules through tyranny.”

“Kill the Witch of Resplendent Color.”

“…”

Blunt paused for a second to think, then finally replied, “…What are your conditions?”

“We’ll place no restrictions on how you do it. Name your price—we’ll pay.”

“All we ask is that it be done on the fifteenth of this month.”

“That day marks our fated encounter with her, long ago, when—”

Before they could finish, Blunt raised a hand to stop them. “…I’ll have to pass. Sorry, but I can’t take this job.”

“What—?”

The elders’ panic was immediate.

“Why?! Why would you refuse?”

“Surely someone of your caliber isn’t afraid?”

“What possible reason could you have not to slay the witch?”

“…My little brother has a school tour that day,” the assassin replied quietly, without flinching.

“…Huh?”

From all three directions, confused voices leaked out through the paper walls.

Blunt didn’t seem to care. Turning on her heel in one fluid motion, she began walking back the way she had come.

“W-wait! Hold on!”

“A school tour…?”

“You’re turning us down because of that?”

“…That is a top-priority commitment for me,” she answered in an icy tone.

The elders scrambled to recover.

“N-no, we didn’t mean it like that! But please, listen!”

“That witch has gathered gifted children and is brainwashing them—turning them into soldiers.”

“Hundreds—maybe thousands—have already died under her command.”

“Letting her run free puts the whole world at risk!”

“Please—we beg you—you have to stop her!”

“Kill Saika Kuozaki!”

“…”

Blunt raised an eyebrow at this. Her gaze slowly rose, sharp and deliberate.

“…What did you just say? Was that the witch’s name?”

The elders recoiled in surprise.

“Yes, Saika Kuozaki.”

“Why? Do you know her?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve heard of her before?”

Blunt clenched her fist, her voice low and even. “…That’s the name of my brother’s crush.”

Chapter 2: Refrain from Spreading Falsehoods or Engaging in Acts of Impersonation

On the night of October fifteen—

“Whoa…”

Mushiki’s eyes widened at the sight before him.

Tucked away in a corner of Ohjoh City in Tokyo stood the mage-training institute Void’s Garden.

Normally a quiet, secluded place where those who wielded magic in order to protect the world honed their craft, it was now bustling with activity.

The path from the front gate to the main school building was decorated with glittering ornaments and lined on both sides with a colorful mix of stalls. Students filled the area in numbers that far exceeded those on a regular school day, chattering and laughing brightly.

Their outfits were just as varied. Some wore their Garden uniforms beneath aprons as they worked food stands, while others paraded around in flashy costumes, holding signs to advertise their class projects. Along the main road, strange mascots—some catlike, others skeletal—drew attention with overly enthusiastic antics.

And it wasn’t just Garden students. Plenty of people in uniforms from other mage-training institutes were strolling about—red blazers, white sailor suits, and other unfamiliar designs.

This was the Garden Night Soiree, the academy’s annual celebration.

Usually, the Garden was a place where miracles beyond human comprehension were studied and crises threatening the world were confronted, but tonight, it wore the face of a regular school festival.

Well, a somewhat unconventional festival… Closer inspection revealed decorations rendered in 3D projections, and many stalls clearly assumed their customers were capable of using magic. Mushiki could maybe understand Magic Target Shooting or Slime Scoop, but he couldn’t begin to guess how you were supposed to play things like Aerial Cut-Out Challenge or Lion’s Grand Ring Toss…

“This is really something. It’s pretty rare to hold a school festival at night,” Mushiki murmured.

“As the name of the event implies, its roots lie in witch soirees,” Kuroe answered beside him.

“Witch soirees…?”

“What you might call a sabbath.”

“Huh?” He blinked at that one.

As if she had expected that reaction, Kuroe continued. “I can imagine what you’re picturing—but those dark elements, such as demonic worship, were added later. Originally, the word just referred to a day of rest.”

“Ah, I see…” Mushiki nodded thoughtfully, then looked around again. “So the guests here—are they all mages, too?”

“For the most part, yes. Invitations are limited to students from other institutions, people in the magical community, and relatives of our students,” Kuroe answered smoothly. “Though, of course, we do make exceptions—like in your case. Non-mage guardians, like your sister, aren’t completely unheard of.”

Mushiki nodded, all but saying he hadn’t forgotten the main reason he was here tonight.

Indeed. Tonight wasn’t just the Garden Night Soiree—it was also the day his sister and legal guardian, Madoka Kuga, would be visiting the school for a tour.

“Just to confirm, she’s allowed to see more than just the designated public areas, right?”

“Yes. And if she asks for an explanation, you’re permitted to disclose confidential information, including details about magic. Some students from non-magical families choose not to reveal these things to their guardians, but in a case like this, where a full explanation has been requested, transparency tends to foster better understanding.”

“…And if that still doesn’t convince her?”

“We’re prepared for all outcomes. If absolutely necessary, we have memory processing options available.”

“You mean…”

“She would forget everything about the Garden. Including the fact that she ever questioned your transfer here,” Kuroe explained matter-of-factly.

“I—I see…,” Mushiki responded nervously.

Come to think of it, maybe the reason the Garden was so quick to approve disclosure was because that last resort existed…

“There’s no need to worry,” Kuroe added, no doubt sensing his unease. “We only use memory wiping if all other measures fail. Obviously, we prefer when guardians come to understand the situation.”

“R-right.”

“There have only been a hundred and two such cases to date.”

“Only…?”

Mushiki furrowed his brow at that, but before he could say more, a voice called out from his left—Ruri.

“No point freaking out before anything’s even happened. You’re the one who’s got to convince her, Mushiki. Stand tall. You can’t go around looking all worried if you want to show Madoka how much this school means to you. She’ll pick up on that right away,” she declared confidently, hands on her hips.

For someone who had once tried to force Mushiki to leave the school out of fear for his safety, this was a surprisingly strong show of support. He couldn’t help but admire her steadiness. It was commendable—and that wasn’t cynicism speaking.

And of course, if even Ruri had come around to supporting him, then maybe convincing Madoka wasn’t such a long shot, either.

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll do my best,” he said, clenching his fists with newfound determination.

“That’s more like it. Now, let’s—”

But Ruri stopped abruptly midsentence.

Mushiki blinked, puzzled, until a new voice rang out behind them.

“Ruriii? Kugaaa? Karasumaaa?”

Jumping back with a jolt, he turned to see a girl in a violet Garden uniform: short hair brushed neatly at the shoulders, gentle features, a soft smile on her lips. And yet, for some reason, she radiated an indescribably intimidating intensity.

Hizumi Nagekawa—Ruri’s roommate and their classmate.

“What are you all doing outside? Our class is running a café, you know, and it’s in the school building, not out here. You didn’t forget, did you?”

“H-Hizumi…,” Ruri said, her voice trembling.

Hizumi smiled kindly—and kept going. “I understand. You just wanted to soak up the atmosphere a little, right? Yes, it’s only once a year, after all. But you, Ruri… The perfect student, skipping out on the day of? The hall and kitchen are both a huge mess right now, so if you could get back to work, that would be great.”

“O-of course! I just, um, had something I needed to take care of—”

“Something you needed to do?” Still smiling, Hizumi tilted her head to one side.

Ruri turned helplessly to Mushiki and Kuroe. The latter breathed a heavy sigh, then stepped in to help.

“As it happens, Mushiki’s sister is scheduled to tour the school shortly. We were waiting here to meet her.”

“Oh, I see. So Kuga’s sister—”

“Isn’t a mage,” Kuroe said flatly.

Hizumi wiped the pasted-on smile from her face, her brow creasing as she folded her arms. “Ah… I see… That’s going to be tough.”

Her voice had a knowing ring to it. Mushiki couldn’t help but wonder if this sort of thing was common at the Garden—or maybe Hizumi herself came from a non-magical background?

“…If that’s the case, then I guess your hands are tied. Good luck. Just make sure you come and help out once your sister’s tour is finished, okay?” She sighed, sounding a little defeated.

Mushiki nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll help out right after.”

“Oh, and by the way,” Kuroe added smoothly, “Mushiki and I will be handling the visit, so feel free to take Ruri back with you.”

“What?! Kuroe?!” Ruri raised her voice at this sudden betrayal, but it was too late.

Hizumi, smile fully restored, already had both hands planted firmly on Ruri’s shoulders. “You should have just said so from the start. Come on, Ruri. We have customers waiting.”

“Ugh, damn you, Kuroeee! You cutthroat! I won’t stand for thisss!”

Ruri’s ghostly wails echoed into the distance as she was dragged away.

After seeing her off, Kuroe breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, with that out of the way, let’s get ready to meet your sister.”

“Out of the way is a little harsh…,” Mushiki said with an awkward smile.

Kuroe shot him a deadpan look. “If Ruri was going to see your sister, that would be one thing. But if she was just going to stand around like last time, she would have ended up being more of a hindrance than a help. It’s better for everyone if she assists the class instead.” Having delivered that blunt assessment, she turned to Mushiki again. “It’s almost time. I’ll be waiting at the designated place. Follow the plan, and if anything comes up, contact me via thought-link,” she said, gesturing to the strand of hair wrapped around one of Mushiki’s fingers.

“Got it. Thank you.”

With one last nod, Mushiki turned southward, heading down the main street, now bustling with guests, as he made his way to the school gates.

He soon arrived at the doors to campus, which were extravagantly decorated with a massive three-dimensional projection styled like a Gothic castle. Atop them hovered bold lettering that read GARDEN NIGHT SOIREE, flanked by dancing mascots—cutesy chibi versions of the Garden’s administrative AI, Silvelle.

Apparently, 3D visuals were more convenient for big events like this as they could simply be turned off once the event closed. It might have felt a bit impersonal, but that sort of efficiency was probably a reflection of Saika’s preference for practicality.

That said, all the flashy decor existed only within the Garden’s grounds.

The moment Mushiki stepped outside the main gate, the school reverted to its usual unassuming form. Naturally, the festivities going on inside were invisible, too, all thanks to the anti-recognition barrier around the Garden.

He was used to it by now, but it was still a strange sight. Mushiki gave the gate a quick glance, then stepped aside so as not to block the incoming guests.

Since his sister Madoka wasn’t a mage, she couldn’t enter without being accompanied and introduced by a current student. As such, they had arranged to meet outside the Garden.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting when a rumbling sound echoed in the distance, prompting him to lift his head.

“Huh?”

Looking up, he saw a massive motorcycle tearing through the night, headed straight toward him.

“Is that…?”

He trailed off with a frown. The bike wasn’t slowing down at all, despite how close it was to the Garden.

“W-whoa!”

The black-and-silver beast of a machine roared right past him and slammed into the school’s outer wall in a fiery explosion.

“Aaagh?! Wh-what the…?!”

“It’s an accident! A motorbike crashed into the wall!”

“Put out the fire! Someone grab an extinguisher! Or anyone who can use water magic!”

“Wh-what…?”

Amid the shouts and screams, Mushiki stood frozen in shock.

Then, through the flames and smoke, a figure appeared, shouldering a guitar case and clad in a full-face helmet.

They walked right up to him and, without a word, removed the helmet to reveal a familiar face.

“Mado?!”

“…Ah.”

His sister gave a terse nod, tucking the helmet under her arm as she shook out her hair. The sheer contrast between her dramatic entrance and unflappable calm drew murmurs from the onlookers.

“Um… Are you okay?” Mushiki asked hesitantly.

“…The brakes suddenly stopped working.”

“O-oh… That sounds awful.”

“…That was the third one.”

“Third?”

“…This year.”

“This year?!”

At this point, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to suspect someone was actively trying to sabotage her. Even Mushiki, immune to his sister’s bad luck, was stunned.

“I’m glad you’re safe… But if this keeps happening, it must be costing a fortune. Wouldn’t it be better to just take the bus or a taxi…?”

“…If I take a motorbike, I only put myself at risk.”

“…”

The weight of her words hit like a stone, forcing him into silence.

Just then, right on cue, Kuroe’s voice echoed in his mind. Still as unlucky as ever, I see. But I’m glad she’s safe. I’ll handle the cleanup on our end, so please escort her inside.

O-okay, got it.

“Let’s head in. The school staff will take care of all this.”

“…No, that wouldn’t be right. I should call the police at least.”

“D-don’t worry about it. This place is a little different.”

Gently urging her forward, Mushiki led his surprisingly sensible sister toward the Garden’s front gate.

“…So this is Garden Academy.” Madoka looked around, taking in her surroundings. “It doesn’t really look like there’s a festival going on.”

“I know. You’re about to see something weird, so…try not to freak out, okay?”

“…? All right, I’ll try.” She stared at him in bewilderment for a moment but nonetheless agreed.

Mushiki gave her a small nod, completed the entry procedure, and led her through the gate.

As they passed through the anti-recognition barrier, they stepped into an entirely different world, a lively, colorful scene bursting open before their eyes.

“…Well, then.” Madoka calmly scanned her surroundings, then let out a quiet breath. “…Fascinating. Very strange indeed.”

Mushiki broke into a light sweat at her understated reaction. “You’re not surprised…?”

“…You were the one who told me not to be.”

“Oh… Right.”

She had a point. There was nothing more he could say to that.

Though it wasn’t like she had accepted everything without question.

“…So. What exactly just happened?” she asked, glancing his way. “You are going to explain, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” He nodded, bracing himself. “What you saw was caused by a magical effect called an anti-recognition barrier. It hides everything from the outside.”

“…Magical?”

“Yeah. Actually…I study magic here. That’s what this school is for.”

“…” Madoka furrowed her brow at this confession, falling silent.

But that wasn’t unreasonable. He had just told her he was learning to use something most people believed only existed in myths, fairy tales, manga, and video games. It was natural to be confused.

After a few moments of thought, she finally looked him in the eye and spoke. “…This ‘magic’…”

“Yes?”

“…Does learning it improve your chances of getting a job?”

“Huh?” Mushiki let out a dumbfounded yelp. “A-a job…?”

“…Yes. You’re essentially attending a vocational school, right? Further study is fine, of course, but it’s best to think ahead and have a career plan in place before graduation.”

“That’s not what I meant…” He rubbed his forehead, trying to collect himself. “I was expecting something like What the hell is magic?! or You’re telling me magic’s real?! Not career advice…”

“…If it’s right in front of my face, what’s the point in doubting it? The real question is how useful this magic is going to be for your future.”

“U-um…” Mushiki shrank back a little at the sheer gravity of her words.

He had run simulations with Kuroe about what kinds of questions outsiders might ask after learning about magic, but this wasn’t one of the scenarios they had planned for.

Trying to recall what Kuroe had once told him, he answered as best he could. “After graduation, some students stay at the school, while others get jobs. There are a lot of companies and organizations run by mages, apparently, and most people join one of those… Or so I’ve heard.”

“…I see. It sounds like it’s a very network-driven industry.” Madoka crossed her arms, nodding thoughtfully.

…At this point, Mushiki wasn’t sure if she was talking about magic or trade school.

A second later, his sister unfolded her arms and shifted gears. “…Anyway, I know you’re going to show me around the school, but you haven’t forgotten the other reason I’m here, have you?”

“…Of course not.” His brow twitched, but he nodded.

The other matter was, naturally, the reason he had decided to change schools in the first place.

In other words—introducing the girl he had chosen. That was the main event of the day.

There was one problem, however: She was currently fused with him.

Fortunately, this situation had been anticipated ahead of time, and he and Kuroe had already worked out a plan.

“I’ve arranged it. I’ll go call her. Can you wait here for a second, Mado?”

“…There’s no need to go out of your way. I’ll go meet her myself.”

“N-no, it’s fine! Just stay right here!”

Flustered, Mushiki left his sister where she stood and all but ran away, turning off into a side alley and darting behind a deserted building.

“Kuroe.”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you, Mushiki.”

There she stood, right where he had left her a few minutes ago.

She gave a small bow upon seeing him, then said with a faint smile, “I was thinking this the other day, but your sister is something else.”

“Yeah, well… I guess this is like her. Still, I didn’t expect her to see actual magic and then ask whether it would help me land a job,” replied Mushiki.

“A coincidence, no doubt. I once shared magic knowledge with someone from the outside, and they completely ignored it.”

“Wait, seriously? Some people really are made of steel, huh?”

“Yes, they are.” For some reason, Kuroe gave him a cold, deadpan stare.

Mushiki tilted his head, puzzled.

“Anyway, we don’t have time for this. Let’s get the process over with.”

“…! Yes, you’re right.”

“Then—”

Before he could finish, Kuroe quietly reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It wasn’t his first time, and he had prepared himself for it, but still, his nerves got the better of him. He couldn’t help but blush.

“Ngh…”

Kuroe, unfazed, leaned in and gently pressed her lips against his. A soft breath tickled his nose, and the sensation of her touch sent a tremble through him.

Bathed in a heady euphoria that seemed to burn through his brain—almost like intoxication—Mushiki’s body began to glow.

And then, in the blink of an eye, it metamorphized into a completely different form.

Hair the color of radiant sunlight, beautiful even in the dark of night. A face like that of a porcelain doll. And eyes—vivid, shimmering, radiating brilliance in every color imaginable.

A breathtaking woman now stood where Mushiki had been a moment ago; it was none other than the world’s most powerful mage and the headmistress of Void’s Garden, Saika Kuozaki.

A state change. Having fused with Saika via magic, Mushiki was able to change his physical form into hers by drawing on an external supply of magical energy.

Yes, this was the simple yet elegant plan he and Kuroe had devised to deal with Madoka.

If Mushiki and Saika were two sides of the same coin, then he could just transform into her out of sight and return to Madoka.

Granted, the fact that he and Saika couldn’t exist simultaneously was a drawback, but that couldn’t be helped. The key was to appear before Madoka as Saika and convince her to accept his transfer. If needed, he could just keep switching back and forth.

“All right, then. I’m off.” With a soft sigh, he reached out with a graceful motion and gently patted Kuroe on the head.

His voice, his words, and his movements were completely unlike those from just a moment ago.

The voice changed when his body did, but those other two transformations were purely the result of his uncanny observational skills and relentless practice. His imitation of Saika was so thorough he’d once fooled even Ruri Fuyajoh, Secretary-General of the International Saika Federation, into thinking he was the genuine article.

“Yes. Best of luck, Lady Saika,” Kuroe said with a respectful bow.

Mushiki waved back lightly and began walking down the path he had come, silklike hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Ah…!”

“It’s Madam Witch!”

“No way, for real?! Whoa…”

“She really does exist…”

Voices rose up all around as other students started to notice him. While those from the Garden might be used to spotting Saika, most visitors from the other mage-training institutes were probably seeing her for the first time, so their reactions were understandable.

Mushiki gave a soft smile, lightly waving his hand as he headed toward his destination.

Just ahead, Madoka was standing exactly as she had been when he left her moments earlier.

He took a breath to steel himself and continued toward her at a relaxed pace.

Wearing a graceful, poised smile, he then called out, “Good afternoon.”

“…Hmm?”

“You must be Mushiki’s sister. I’ve heard everything about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Saika Kuozaki, the headmistress of this academy—”

Yet he stopped himself there.

The reason was incredibly simple.

“…What are you doing, Mushiki?”

Yes, Madoka had furrowed her brow and addressed the girl in front of her as Mushiki, despite him wearing Saika’s face and body and adopting her voice and movements.

“…”

Completely thrown, Mushiki froze in panic. His stomach turned cold, and he felt his back dampen with sweat.

But that only lasted for a moment. Saika Kuozaki wasn’t the kind of person to give way to terror. By acting as her, Mushiki could access a level of mental composure far beyond his normal limits.

“Ha-ha, what an amusing joke. You’ve got quite the sense of humor.”

“…Is that body magic? And why are you talking like that?”

But while Mushiki struggled to stay in character, Madoka went on, unfazed.

It wasn’t that she felt something was off about the girl before her or that she suspected his involvement. No—she knew. She was clearly treating the person before her as Mushiki. His height, his face, his hair length—even his sex—were completely different, and still she could see right through him.

It made no sense. Trying as best he could to keep his smile intact, he cautiously asked, “…For future reference, can I ask what exactly caused you to mistake me for Mushiki?”

“…Mistake? What are you talking about? You are Mushiki. The angle of your body, the timing of your blinking, your breathing—it’s all my brother to a T.”

“What…?”

“The only things different are your looks and voice.”

“…”

…If your looks and voice were different, wouldn’t that make you a whole different person?

Hearing her say all this like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Mushiki fell dead silent.

He managed to maintain his last line of defense—a practiced smile—just barely, but a bead of sweat now ran down his pale cheek.

He had always known Madoka had uncannily sharp instincts, but this was beyond normal. The angle of his body? His blinking? His breathing? She was identifying him with those?

Sure, he had heard of specialized techniques for identifying individuals by the way they walked, but could an ordinary human really pick up on differences that subtle?

As Mushiki struggled to make sense of it all, Madoka suddenly leaned in closer. “…It’s not a hologram. The body feels real… It’s too solid to be a costume… Did you actually transform?”

She began touching him, pressing here and there, narrowing her eyes and examining him from various angles, even sniffing him. Mushiki instinctively twisted away.

“H-hey…!”

“…No, it’s too detailed to be artificial… This body has a history. It couldn’t have been whipped up overnight. It must be based on a real person. Or is it a borrowed body? A spell that swaps personalities…? Is that even possible? Or maybe—”

“…”

She drew closer still, sniffing at the side of Mushiki’s neck as she peered into his face.

Her gaze left him choking for air.

It was like she was the latest high-precision scanner, analyzing an object’s internal structure from every angle.

Or a canine predator, identifying its prey with a single sniff.

Under her scrutiny, Mushiki felt like every secret between him and Saika might be laid bare.

“…Elevated heartbeat. Sweat. A whiff of stomach acid. Are you nervous?”

Even his distress didn’t go unnoticed. His eyes darted sharply about in their sockets.

“S-sorry, I just remembered something I have to do. Excuse me.”

He swallowed hard to wet his parched throat, forced out Saika’s voice one last time, and then beat a quick retreat.

Madoka only tilted her head slightly. She made no attempt to follow him. Maybe she really had only been curious about his form change.

“Haaah…”

After making his way through the crowd of students and visitors in the main street, Mushiki ducked back into a nearby alleyway to hide.

In that instant, his body shimmered faintly, and he shifted from his Saika form back into his own.

While transforming into Saika required an external supply of magical energy, returning to his own form didn’t. If his mental state destabilized enough to cause his magic to leak out naturally, his body would default to the more efficient Mushiki form.

He’d just barely made it. If he had reverted in public like that, Madoka and the other students and visitors would have seen everything… Then again, maybe Madoka wouldn’t have batted an eye at this.

“That was a close one.”

“Gah!”

The sudden voice made him flinch in surprise.

Peering over his shoulder, he spotted Kuroe. He had retreated to a different alleyway than earlier, but it seemed she had followed him after he left Madoka.

“K-Kuroe…”

“Indeed,” she responded, placing a hand on her chin with a grim look and glaring in the direction he had come from. “Let me ask again: What kind of lady is this sister of yours, exactly?”

Well, no one could blame her. After all, Mushiki himself wanted to ask the same question.

“You mean to tell me she deduced your true identity just from the way you blinked and breathed? Ruri couldn’t see through your act. Yet she did?”

“…That’s what it seems like. And yeah, even Ruri didn’t catch on,” he said with a solemn nod.

For the record, when he said “even Ruri,” he meant it with the highest possible praise. If Ruri had overheard that, she probably would have squirmed where she stood, groaning in a mix of pride and embarrassment.

In fact, he was equally shocked.

After all, Madoka had seen through his Saika persona, which he had absolute confidence in, at a glance. The shock and tension had hit him first, but a moment later, a wave of helplessness and humiliation came crashing down. Mushiki leaned back against the wall and buried his face in his hands.

“N-no way… How could my Saika be undone so easily…?” he moaned, ready to collapse to the ground.

“That phrasing easily invites misunderstanding,” Kuroe murmured, giving him a hard stare. “This is no time to be shaken. Pull yourself together. We shouldn’t keep her waiting too long. You need to hurry back to her.”

“But if my performance doesn’t work, there’s no way I can introduce Saika. She’ll never be convinced…,” he said, trailing off.

“…What’s done is done,” Kuroe said with a strained look. “If we’ve been found out, we need to move to Plan B.”

“Plan B…?” Mushiki’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have another idea?”

“As I mentioned earlier, I prepared several backup courses of action just in case. That being said, the details will have to wait. Your sister is headed this way—she might be worried about you. Go and greet her. For now, just start showing her around the school as originally planned.”

“…! G-got it!”

He was dying to know what Plan B was, but he couldn’t leave Madoka unattended. He nodded quickly and turned to head back the way he had come.

She was already in sight, approaching from the main street.

“S-sorry,” he said with a small wave. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“…No. More importantly, are you all right? You looked pretty flustered just now.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

Madoka seemed to have already figured out that Saika was really him in disguise, but he couldn’t possibly come clean about that. He forced a grin, fighting to keep his nerves steady and play dumb.

“…Just now, you—”

“L-let’s not worry about that! Here, I’ll show you around the school!” he interrupted before leading her back out onto the main street.

Madoka followed, wearing a dubious look.

“Um, so the Garden is divided into five main areas. We’re in the southern section now, where the dormitories and shops are. If we keep going straight, we’ll reach the central area where the main school building is located.”

“…Hmm.”

“My class’s event is being held inside the central school building. We could go there first, unless there’s something else you want to see?”

Madoka looked around to take in their surroundings. “…I’ll leave the festival activities to you. I’m more interested in seeing the facilities, the teachers, and the students. But…”

“But?”

“…What I’m most curious about is this person you like. You did promise to introduce me, didn’t you?”

“…”

Just when he thought he had managed to dodge that topic, she came right back to it. His smile froze in place as panic welled up in him once again.

Sensing something off in his reaction, Madoka narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “…What’s with that look? Don’t tell me you were really going to go through with that disguise? Show up as a girl and say you’re the one you’re in love with?”

“Not exactly…”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. It was unavoidable, seeing as his body had fused with Saika’s, but his sister’s accusation wasn’t far off the mark.

And she would see right through his guilt. That wasn’t just a hunch—it was a certainty. In the face of Madoka’s perceptiveness, a half-baked lie could be fatal.

But his vague response only seemed to deepen her skepticism. She fixed him with a sharp squint, like she was peering straight into his soul. “…Then what was all that about just now? I don’t get the impression you wanted to surprise me. If that was the case, getting caught out wouldn’t have been enough of a reason to run off. Don’t tell me… Is it actually just one-sided? Haven’t you told her? Or maybe everything you said about having a crush was just an excuse to cover up your real reason for transferring here…?”

“No! She’s real, and I did tell her!”

That part was the truth. He shook his head vigorously as Madoka tapped her chin, deep in thought.

She must have sensed he wasn’t lying, but that only added to the reservations she had.

“…Then why haven’t you introduced her? You said earlier you would go get her. Is there some reason she can’t show her face?”

“I—I… Uh…” He stumbled over his words, unable to answer.

At that moment—

“H-hey there. Sorry to keep you waiting, Mushiki. And…is that your sister?”

The voice came from behind them.

“Huh…?!”

Caught off guard, he whipped around, his breath hitching in his throat.

He and Saika shared the same body. Thanks to the fusion technique binding them together, only one of them could exist at any given time. That was why he had been leading a double life, switching between himself and Saika, for so long now.

But that voice from behind him just now—

“…It can’t be…”

Taken aback, he looked over his shoulder, his face contorting into pure confusion as a shaky breath escaped his lips.

But that wasn’t at all unreasonable. After all, the person standing there looked nothing at all like Saika.

Rather, it was a woman sporting delicate wire-frame glasses.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with long silver hair trailing so far down her back that it seemed to touch the ground, and skin so pale that it was clear she hadn’t seen sunlight in far too long. She was taller than even Madoka and had a figure that could only be described as incredible, yet for some reason, she was wearing the Garden’s girls’ school uniform. Her getup clearly didn’t fit—it was tight in all the wrong places, stretched to its limit.

And then there was her face. It was like she was putting on the performance of her life. Her cheeks were flushed, sweat dotted her forehead, and she wore a forced smile that made it look like her muscles were rebelling.

There was no mistaking it. Absolutely none. This was Hildegarde Silvelle—head of the school’s technical department and a Knight of the Garden.

That much, at least, Mushiki could grasp.

He gave her a tight-lipped look and started to ask, “Um, what are you doing, Hil—?”

Please wait, Mushiki. Kuroe’s telepathic message cut him off.

Kuroe? Wait, is she the Plan B you mentioned earlier…?

Yes. Fortunately, your sister has never seen Lady Saika’s face. That means a stand-in should suffice.

…I—I guess so?

This wasn’t an approach he could agree to lightly, but he couldn’t say it didn’t make some semblance of sense. He gave a vague, noncommittal reply.

Still… Why Hilde, though? She isn’t like Saika in, well, any way… And I can’t see her being suited for this…

He glanced at Hildegarde, who was visibly struggling and muttering something under her breath.

Hildegarde was famously shy, not to mention terrible with strangers. The idea that she would volunteer for something like this of her own free will seemed improbable at best.

And yes, while she did share Mushiki’s and Ruri’s deep appreciation for Saika, she was more of a quiet admirer. Unlike them, she had never tried to imitate Saika’s speech or mannerisms. Of course, maybe she did in private, but she had certainly never done it in front of anyone else. Just like how train enthusiasts come in all varieties—some ride, some photograph—so too did Saika fans each have their own ways of showing their enthusiasm.

That’s true, Kuroe replied. But there aren’t many people on campus who know about your and Lady Saika’s situation.

…Fair point.

He couldn’t argue with that. Asking for this kind of help required someone who already understood his predicament, which narrowed the pool considerably.

During the last incident, she said that if you ever needed help again, she would be there to support you. So I asked.

Hilde…

For someone who avoided the spotlight like the plague, this was an incredible gesture. The fact she was doing this, ill-fitting outfit and all, filled him with a warm swell of emotion.

He couldn’t let her efforts go to waste. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Madoka.

“Mado, let me introduce you. This is—”

“S-Saika Kuozaki… Pleased to meet you… Whew…,” Hildegarde stammered right on cue.

She was clearly trying to imitate Saika’s voice and personality, but her natural shyness bled through hard. Her face was stiff, her voice raspy, and for some reason, she struck a dramatic pose like she was awakening some evil, ancient power… Was that how she saw Saika?

Mushiki desperately wanted to correct her, but he held back.

Now wasn’t the time. More importantly, the same woman who could barely talk to her students was now putting herself out there like this for a stranger. It would be awfully rude of Mushiki to call attention to that discrepancy.

“…”

Madoka’s eyes slid over Hildegarde’s entire figure, slow and deliberate.

…Was he imagining things? Or was there something vaguely distrustful in those normally melancholic eyes of hers?

Given the way things had unfolded so far, some amount of suspicion was probably inevitable. But her gaze seemed more than just wary—it was openly hostile.

Hildegarde seemed to sense this, too. Her shoulders twitched slightly. “Wh-what is it…?”

“…Nothing.” Eventually, Madoka straightened her posture and gave a little bow. “Thank you for always looking out for my brother. I’m Madoka Kuga, Mushiki’s older sister.”

Her tone was surprisingly formal. It was an everyday sort of statement, sure, but it reminded Mushiki that his sister really was an adult.

“Ah, r-right… Thank you very much…”

Hildegarde bowed back reflexively, but something about her movement must have struck her as not Saika enough, because after a moment of hesitation, she threw up one hand to cover an eye in a dramatic pose, like something out of an old-school poster for a flamboyant rock band.

For the record, the correct move in a situation like this would be to lift the hem of your skirt in a curtsy. That kind of playful elegance was part of what made Saika so captivating… Not that Mushiki said any of that out loud.

As he tried to silence his inner critic, Madoka spoke again, her eyes still roaming over Hildegarde’s outfit. “…Can I ask something?”

“Y-yes. Wh-what is it…?”

“…Are you a student at this academy?”

“Eh? Um… Oh, uh… Y-yes, that’s right… Just that, well, there’s a bit of a story behind that. I’m a student, yes, but also a teacher at the same time…” She hesitated for a moment, but she evidently decided to stick with Saika’s actual cover story.

Madoka broke into a confused frown. “…A student and a teacher?”

“Y-yes… Um, I was a teacher first, but there were things I wanted to study again, so now I take classes, too. It also lets me evaluate the other teachers at the same time… Tee-hee-hee…,” Hildegarde declared, puffing up in pride—and putting a little too much strain on her outfit.

Pop! A button from her overburdened blouse launched into the air.

Madoka calmly caught it with one hand as it sailed toward her face.

“Ugh! I-I’m so sorry! I mean, my apologies…”

“…No need. Happens all the time.” Madoka handed the button back with an unreadable expression.

Hildegarde hunched over in embarrassment as she took it in her hand. “I-it does…?”

“Indeed. Objects flying at my face are an everyday occurrence.”

“Oh. I see…” Hildegarde nodded slowly, then blinked. “Huh?”

She didn’t, however, voice her question.

Why not? Because Madoka narrowed her eyes ever so slightly and said, “…More importantly, you are a teacher, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Ah… Yes. Wh-why do you ask…?” Hildegarde asked, tilting her head to one side.

Madoka’s reply came in a calm, chillingly cold voice. “…In other words—you’re a teacher who laid hands on her student, and a minor at that?”

“Wh-wha—?!”

The sheer force behind those words left Hildegarde flinching and trembling, as if she had been physically struck.

Not that anyone could blame her. Madoka’s tone may have been polite, but her voice was sharp enough to draw blood. It sounded like she was just one breath away from slitting Hildegarde’s throat.

Mushiki rushed to step between them. “W-wait, Mado! You’ve got it all wrong!”

“…Wrong? But aren’t you thinking of marrying Kuozaki?”

“Well…yeah! That’s just how I feel! It’s not like Saika herself ever said anything about that!”

“…So you’re saying you haven’t done anything that would violate any laws?”

“Of course not!” he insisted.

“…Not even a kiss?”

“Well, that’s…”

“…Why are you hesitating to answer?” As Madoka glared daggers at him, Mushiki shrank back, unable to meet her gaze.

He couldn’t exactly say yes outright, so he gave a vague response. A poor decision, in hindsight. Regret welled up in his chest. Then again, if he had said no, his sister would have seen right through him anyway. He had been doomed from the moment she asked.

Still, there hadn’t been an alternative when it came to him and Saika kissing. After all, Saika had needed to bring his lips to hers in order to fuse with his near-lifeless body. And ever since Mushiki’s arrival at the Garden, he had kissed her numerous times (yes, he was keeping track). In magic, physical contact and bodily fluids held strong significance. When undergoing a state change from his own body to Saika’s, direct contact was the most efficient way to channel magic.

Nonetheless, he had never imagined his first love would involve skipping all the normal steps and jumping straight to kissing before they were even officially dating.

“I mean… Uh… It’s not like we’ve had a real one yet!”

“…What does that mean?” Madoka asked, one eyebrow raised.

Mushiki’s face turned red as he tried to explain. “A kiss where we both, you know, feel something. That hasn’t happened yet. For her, it’s just something that needs to be done. Like…a mission, or a job…”

He fumbled his words, prompting Madoka’s expression to grow even darker.

“…Are you saying it’s a transactional relationship?”

“That’s not what I meant at all!”

No matter how he put it, all he did was make it sound somehow even sketchier. He scratched his head, squirming uncomfortably.

Only then did he notice it—while he and Madoka were arguing, Hildegarde was literally trying to crawl away.

Madoka cut her off, stepping in front of her. “…Where do you think you’re going?”

“Eeep! P-please…!” Hildegarde let out a pathetic squeal. “N-no! It’s not like that…! I didn’t do anything! I was just following orders…!”

“…Oh? So you’re saying Mushiki is the one at fault here? But you did accept payment, didn’t you?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Hildegarde wailed, her eyes brimming with tears.

Mushiki rushed to stop his sister. “M-Mado! Please, calm down…!”

“…Don’t worry. I’m not the one who’s going to kill her. That will be society.”

“That’s not better at all…!”

Her deadpan fury left Hildegarde backpedaling in terror.

At that moment—

“Stop. That isn’t Saika Kuozaki. She’s just a stand-in.”

A new voice rang out from behind them.

“Huh…?”

“…What?”

Mushiki and Madoka both turned around in surprise.

Standing there, arms confidently crossed, was a young woman. Her fluffy hair was done up with ornate accessories, and she had a small frame. She looked young enough to pass for a middle schooler at first glance.

But Mushiki knew better. She wasn’t the innocent girl she appeared to be.

This was Knight Erulka Flaera, head of the Garden’s medical department and Saika’s most trusted mage.

At the sight of her, Mushiki jerked his shoulders with a delayed jolt of recognition.

No doubt she had stepped in to save Hildegarde, who was clearly overwhelmed.

But she had said too much. By revealing Hildegarde wasn’t the real Saika, Erulka had essentially opened Pandora’s box.

“…A stand-in? You mean this woman’s a fake?” Madoka asked.

“Ah… Well, that’s…”

Just as Mushiki feared, Madoka responded with undisguised suspicion. He racked his brain for a way to cover it up.

But Erulka didn’t seem bothered. Instead, she laughed brightly. “That’s right. I only meant to tease you a little, but I might have pushed too far.”

“Huh…?”

Mushiki blinked. That didn’t sound like something a mere bystander would say. There was too much weight behind it.

Madoka must have felt the same. Narrowing her eyes, she asked cautiously, “…And you are?”

Erulka grinned, puffing out her modest chest with pride. “That should be obvious… I’m the real Saika Kuozaki.”

“—?!”

“…What did you just say?”

Erulka’s words hung in the air.

Mushiki’s eyes went wide, while Madoka narrowed hers in suspicion.

For a second, he was utterly thrown, uncertain of what Erulka meant.

But then she shot him a quick wink, as if sending him a signal.

“…!”

With that, he understood.

At the same time, a voice echoed in his mind.

Kuroe! Don’t tell me—

Correct. I also requested support from Knight Erulka. Knight Hildegarde appeared to be struggling to keep up.

Th-this is a pretty different direction again…

Let’s not get picky. There was no one else I could ask. Just play along.

With that prompt, he cleared his throat again. “Y-yeah, right. Sorry, Mado. This is the real Saika.”

“…What’s the idea of introducing someone under false pretenses?” Madoka asked with a dubious frown.

She was right to be skeptical. Mushiki himself was at a loss for how to respond. Fortunately, Erulka, stepping in with a light smile and a shrug, answered for him.

“Oh, just a bit of fun. This is a soiree, after all. No need to be so grim—enjoy yourself.” She chuckled.

Unlike Hildegarde, she wasn’t even trying to mimic Saika’s speech.

Well, Madoka didn’t know what the real Saika Kuozaki was like. Maybe it was better to remain natural than try too hard and slip up.

“…”

His sister looked Erulka over from head to toe, then leaned in and whispered to him, “…Mushiki. You’re sure this girl is who you say she is?”

“Wh-what makes you say that…?” he asked nervously, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

Was there some obvious giveaway?

“…She’s practically in her underwear,” Madoka replied, as if it was obvious.

“Ah…” He let out a dumb little sound.

True enough, Erulka was wearing a Garden uniform like Hildegarde, but the jacket was just draped over her shoulders, and she wasn’t even wearing a skirt. In other words, her skimpy sports leggings were on full display.

…He had gotten used to her strange outfit from living at the Garden, but now that Madoka pointed it out, Erulka’s attire was patently outrageous. Madoka’s concern made perfect sense.

And that wasn’t all.

As Madoka continued eyeing her suspiciously, Erulka casually pulled out a massive gourd from under her coat, brought it to her lips, and started gulping down its contents…

“Phew. That hits the spot. This is what a party’s all about,” she exhaled, her cheeks looking slightly flushed.

“…Is that alcohol?”

“Hey…!”

But just as Madoka’s suspicions reached a breaking point—

“Don’t let her fool you! I’m the real Saika Kuozaki!”

Third time’s the charm, or so the saying goes. And just like that, a fresh voice rang out like thunder.

Drawn by the sound, Mushiki turned to look, spotting a girl who looked even younger than Erulka.

Her golden hair was neatly braided, and she wore a comically oversized Garden uniform.

She, too, was someone who knew the truth about him and Saika—Sara Svarner, a recently reincarnated girl who had once been the host of the annihilation factor known as the Wheel of Fate, Fortuna.

“Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Eh?!” Mushiki sputtered.

Sara took his hand, leaning in close with exaggerated, theatrical grace. For someone so young-looking, she certainly knew how to act mature—so much so that it caught him off guard.

U-uh, Kuroe…? Isn’t Sara kind of a problem?

I agree.

Kuroe?! He mentally gaped at her response.

Sara happened to be nearby when I asked Knight Erulka for help, and she insisted on joining in. I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

Right…

That telepathic explanation left Mushiki grimacing.

Sara had a very reserved personality. She wasn’t normally the kind of person to go out of her way to do something like this.

But she had always said she wanted to repay Saika and Mushiki for the kindness they had shown her, and now that she had found the chance—well, it seemed she was going all in. Maybe a little too much.

Apparently sharing that sentiment, Madoka gave a tight-lipped frown. “…Is this true, Mushiki?”

“Er… Uh, yeah.”

That vague reply only made her look more concerned. “…She looks awfully young.”

“Love knows no age! Ten years from now, no one will even notice the gap!” Sara declared with dramatic flair, gripping Mushiki’s arm for emphasis. “Tell her, darling! Say you’re going to marry me someday!”

“I—I—”

“What the hell is goin’ on here?!” a harsh voice cut in, drowning out whatever Mushiki had been about to say.

A tall man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties stormed over, pushing through the crowd, his shoulders tense with fury.

Braided hair, dark skin, razor-sharp eyes lit with rage and emotion—this was Anviet Svarner.

Though it was hard to believe, he was Sara’s husband.

“Kuga! Care to explain this?! Are you messin’ with me?!”

“M-Mr. Svarner…! I can explain…!”

But before Mushiki could get another word out, Sara stepped back into her role, her eyes glistening with tears. “Forgive me, An! Mushiki proposed to me!”

“What…?!”

Anviet’s face twisted with even more fury. Quite literally, electricity started crackling around him, sparks flying through the air and his hair standing on end. He looked like a raging thunder god. The word death flashed in Mushiki’s mind.

But then Anviet paused and took a breath. The rage slowly faded as he turned across to Sara.

“…Yeah. You did die once and get reborn. Technically speakin’, you and me, we ain’t husband and wife anymore. So if Kuga wants to pop the question…maybe I ain’t got any right to butt in. Maybe.”

“An…” Sara gave him a forlorn look.

“But,” Anviet continued. “Listen, my feelings ain’t changed in a hundred years. The woman I love—it’s always been you. Just you. For life. No one else,” he said, reaching out with one hand.

Sara gasped, her eyes welling with tears. The next moment, she pulled away from Mushiki and leaped into Anviet’s arms. “Oh, An. An… My dearest love. I lied, but please, forgive me for betraying you. My heart has always belonged to you. Then, now, and forever—only you.” Still crying, she turned around, wearing a strangely peaceful smile. “Sorry, Mushiki! Looks like An’s still the only one for me!”

“Ah… Sure…”

What did I just witness?

That was about all Mushiki could think, and he could only manage the blandest, driest response imaginable.

While he stood there like a deer in headlights, Anviet and Sara were already cozied up and strolling off together, shoulder to shoulder.

“H-hey. You’re holdin’ on a bit too tightly, don’cha think…?”

“Oh? I’m just in one of those moods where I want to share a little happiness with the world.”

Still wrapped up in their own little love bubble, the Svarners vanished into the crowd.

As the two disappeared from view, Madoka turned to Mushiki.

“…Are you okay with that? Just letting them walk off?”

“Y-yeah… It’s fine…”

In the span of just a few minutes, he had been falsely proposed to, then dumped—without agreeing to any of it.

He gave a weak, exhausted laugh. This ordeal had left him strangely drained.

Still, for all the emotional whiplash, the actual problem hadn’t gotten any closer to being solved. He glanced around at the aftermath of the chaos, then turned as Madoka faced him again.

“…So? Who’s the real Saika? I know this is a school festival, but this prank has gone a little far, hasn’t it?”

“I—I… Uh…” Put on the spot again, Mushiki came up short.

He was grateful to everyone who had volunteered to help him, really, but none of their performances had been enough to convince Madoka.

And now there was no one left to turn to. Of the few people at the Garden who knew Mushiki and Saika had been fused together, only one remained: Ruri, whom Hizumi had dragged off earlier.

If anyone could manage a spot-on impersonation of Saika, it would be her. But fooling her own sister? That simply wasn’t happening. No matter how perfectly Ruri played the part, all Mushiki could imagine was Madoka narrowing her eyes and saying, “…Isn’t that you, Ruri?”

Just then, as Mushiki agonized over what to do next, Kuroe’s voice rang out in his head. We have no choice. I’ll use our last resort.

…! You have something else up your sleeve?!

Yes. I didn’t want to have to do this, but desperate times call for desperate measures… I’ll deploy our final substitute.

Final…substitute? But no one else knows about me and Saika being—

“What’s with that face, Mushiki? Your sister is finally here, and you’re looking like someone just hit you with a brick.”

Huh…?

In that instant, his eyes went wide.

It didn’t take him long to realize what had happened. That voice wasn’t coming from inside his head.

It was real.

He spun around with a start—and there she was. Somehow, without his noticing, Kuroe had appeared beside him.

“…And you are?” Madoka asked flatly, turning her gaze on her.

To that question…

“Sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Saika Kuozaki.”

…Kuroe Karasuma revealed her true name.

Chapter 3: Enjoy a Wide Variety of Performances

Are you really sure about this, Kuroe? Mushiki thought, focusing on the strand of hair wrapped around his little finger.

A moment later, Kuroe’s voice echoed calmly in his mind. Sure about what?

About you playing the role of Saika.

It seems like the most natural solution.

I mean, yeah, I suppose so. But still…

It wasn’t just natural; it was perfect. There couldn’t possibly be a better fit.

After all, Kuroe was Saika.

Yes. The person known as Kuroe Karasuma didn’t technically exist. The girl standing in front of Mushiki was Saika’s soul, temporarily housed in an experimental synthetic body.

But the fact that Kuroe was Saika was as much a secret as the fusion of his and Saika’s bodies—maybe even more so. Even if it was all framed as her just playing a part, hinting at the truth was something they wanted to avoid at all costs.

Of course, even if someone from the Garden saw this scene, the odds were high they would just chalk it up to another one of Mushiki and his friends’ little games.

Still, maybe one person in a hundred—or one person in a thousand—would remember that Kuroe had claimed to be Saika.

And maybe, just maybe, one of them would feel something…off.

It might have been pure paranoia. But even so, it was extremely out of character for someone like Kuroe, who prized efficiency and logic above all else, to take this kind of risk.

And yet she was doing it for one clear reason: to convince Madoka so that Mushiki could stay at the Garden.

“…”

Realizing that, he suddenly felt warm tears trickling down his cheeks.

“…Why are you crying?”

“Huh…? Oh. It’s nothing.”

Madoka, frowning slightly, clearly found his tears suspicious. Mushiki hurried to wipe them away with the back of his hand. Kuroe shot him a flat, unimpressed look.

Madoka gave a short sigh, scratched at the back of her head, and then continued. “…Anyway. So this young lady here is the person you were talking about?”

“Yes. She is,” Mushiki answered firmly, meeting her gaze head-on.

Unlike before, there was no hesitation in his eyes.

Madoka gave a small nod, then turned her attention to Kuroe, who sat beside him. “…Then let me properly introduce myself. I’m Madoka Kuga, Mushiki’s older sister. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Thank you for the kind introduction. The pleasure is all mine,” Kuroe responded with perfect etiquette, showing no sign of being intimidated by Madoka’s quiet intensity.

Madoka studied her closely for a moment before speaking again. “…I have a few things I want to ask. Is that okay?”

“If it’s something I’m able to answer, of course.” Kuroe nodded, calm and confident.

And really, there was no chance she would slip up. After all, she was the one and only Saika Kuozaki.

“…All right then, first question.”

What came next caught Mushiki by surprise.

“…What is this place?” she asked, glancing about at her surroundings.

Wanting somewhere quieter to talk, they had made their way to a café, leaving the main street for the central school building.

Normally, the space served as a multipurpose hall, but now it had been beautifully transformed. There were chandeliers, candle holders, and velvet carpets; the hall looked like it had been plucked straight from a Western-style mansion.

The level of detail and elegance was far beyond your average school festival café. It wasn’t just the materials—the entire design philosophy had a strong, unified vision.

It wasn’t surprising, really. This setup had been directed by Mushiki and Ruri, with Kuroe begrudgingly overseeing the finer points of execution.

“This is Class 2-A’s project: a café called Witch’s Manor.”

“…Witch’s Manor?”

Mushiki said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet Madoka stared back at him, looking slightly puzzled.

“Yeah. The concept is you wander into a mysterious Western-style mansion deep in the woods, and it turns out to be the home of a witch,” he added, gesturing around them.

The staff members moving around the café weren’t dressed in the usual frilly maid or butler outfits, but rather sleek dresses and tailored suits, like characters out of a Gothic novel.

Every single one of them wore a wig in the same sunny hue. The styles and accessories varied, but the inspiration behind them was crystal clear—they were all cosplaying as one specific person.

And if that wasn’t enough—

“Welcome, honored guest. Please, relax and make yourself at home.”

“Ah, do take a seat wherever you’d like.”

“May I offer you something to drink?”

The staff carried themselves more like aristocratic hosts than café workers.

With the lavish decor and formal tone, the place felt closer to a noble’s private salon than a school festival café.

“…This is quite the niche concept café.”

“Really? It’s actually kind of mainstream around here,” Mushiki responded with a carefree shrug.

Thinking, Madoka rested a hand on her chin. “…Now that you mention it, you were acting kind of like that earlier. Were you supposed to be working here?”

“…S-something like that,” he said with a sheepish smile.

His approaching her as Saika wasn’t part of the café at all, but it was true that he was meant to help run it.

Indeed. It was obvious from one look at the layout and the costumes that this was Mushiki’s doing.

While everyone in his class had already agreed on running a café, he had submitted a detailed, fully fleshed-out concept on top of that, complete with a theme, design notes, and roles.

Sure, it had caused a bit of a stir during the planning meeting, but since it didn’t technically break any rules, it ended up being adopted according to Garden-style democracy.

…That said, it was a little awkward now, considering he hadn’t helped run the thing because of all the chaos with his sister.

As he was thinking that, one of his classmates—Hizumi, dressed up as a witch—approached them slowly.

“Welcome to the Witch’s Manor. You must be weary from wandering through the forest. Please, allow us to offer you something,” she said, opening up a menu and holding it out with a flourish.

Madoka glanced over it, then frowned slightly. “…Mushiki?”

“Wh-what?”

“…This item—The Witch’s Twilight, Accompanied by a Poem—what exactly is it?”

“Oh, that. It’s meant to evoke the image of a witch at sunset, sitting on her balcony with a book of poetry in her lap.”

“…In other words?”

“Black tea.”

“…I see.”

It was hard to say whether she wasn’t picky or just didn’t want to bother with the rest of the menu, but Madoka gave a simple, “…Then I’ll have that.” Mushiki and Kuroe followed her lead and ordered the same.

“Very good. Please wait a moment.” Hizumi gave a courteous nod and walked off.

Watching her go, Madoka gave a small, thoughtful nod. “…I see it now. She’s acting just like you were earlier.”

“Well, I mean, yes. Strictly speaking, it’s not exactly the same, though. Like, did you see that bow just now? She should have bent her knees a little more. That would make it more in character. It’s subtle, but the devil is in the details,” Mushiki murmured almost unconsciously.

“…” Hizumi’s shoulders gave a barely perceptible twitch.

From beyond the curtain dividing the staff area, people started whispering.

“Damn… As expected of Kuga. He’s so picky about Madam Witch’s mannerisms!”

“And it’s not like he’s bothering to work the floor!”

“Coming in as a guest just to criticize? How sadistic can you get…?!”

“…”

Uh-oh. Mushiki winced.

He thought he had been holding back, but it clearly wasn’t enough. Even if they hadn’t met his standards, everyone was doing their best. Racked with guilt, he hunched apologetically.

But Hizumi wasn’t about to let it slide. She turned and walked toward the back, calling out to one of the girls there. “We’re left with no choice. Call in the Grand Witch.”

The girl’s eyes went wide. “Th-the Grand Witch?! Are you sure?! But she—”

“Kuga’s just another lost traveler here. If we want him to leave satisfied, we need the Grand Witch.”

“…U-understood… Grand Witch! We need you!”

At her call, the curtain separating the café floor from the back slowly parted, another girl emerging from within.

She was adorned in an elegant dress, complete with a sunlight-colored wig done up in twintails.

Nothing about her outfit was different from the other staff. But somehow, she had something the others didn’t.

She walked slowly, deliberately, over to Mushiki’s table. Then, with a serene smile, she said, “Ah, sorry to keep you waiting. I can’t offer much, but please, take a moment to rest.”

She snapped her fingers. In an instant, a soft blue flame flickered to life atop their table, and with it appeared a refined teapot and matching cups.

“…Well, I’ll be.”

Madoka’s voice was oddly calm, betraying little of her thoughts.

Next, the girl raised her right hand. With that, the teapot floated into the air and began pouring a ruby-red liquid into the three cups.

“…Hmm.”

As the Grand Witch lowered her hand, the teapot gently settled back onto the table.

“Please, enjoy. I won’t guarantee it suits your tastes, though.” Her tone was playfully coy, but her movements were nothing short of graceful.

“Ooh…” Mushiki breathed in awe.

Though to be clear, it wasn’t the flashy performance that impressed him. The blue flames, the floating teapot—those were typical tricks you would expect to see at a mage-training institute’s school festival. They were a little showy, sure, but ultimately, they were just the result of some runes carved under the table and on the bottom of the pot. Knowing the mechanics behind it, Mushiki found it about as impressive as a magic show with mirrors and wires.

No, what stunned him was the aura exuded by the girl herself.

The way she wore the costume. The precision of her gestures. The subtlety of her eye movements. Every little detail added up to something far beyond mere cosplay.

She was on a completely different level from the other café staff. This wasn’t a student playing dress-up—this was a stage actor in a starring role. The differences in her presence, knowledge, nuance, and above all, love for the character, were staggering.

Only then did he realize it.

“…Ruri?”

“…?!”

The moment Madoka murmured that name, a crack ran through the girl’s perfect mask.

Of course. The so-called Grand Witch, the café’s star performer, was none other than Ruri Fuyajoh, Mushiki’s little sister, whom Hizumi had dragged off earlier.

Which meant, naturally, she was also Madoka’s little sister.

It seemed Ruri had been so deep in character that she hadn’t noticed Madoka at all—until her name was spoken, that was. Now her face was suddenly slick with sweat.

“M-Mado…? What are you doing here?”

“…That’s my question. What are you doing here, Ruri? Don’t tell me you go to this school, too?”

“Uh… Well… Yes…”

“…And what’s this Grand Witch business? It sounds impressive.”

“…!”

Madoka’s genuine curiosity only made things worse. Ruri’s cheeks twitched violently as she squirmed.

Sensing trouble, Hizumi hurried over. “What’s wrong, Ruri? You’re still on the floor, you know.”

“…Sorry. But I think I have to tap out here… I just… I can’t do this in front of my sister…”

“Why not? You were fine in front of Kuga.”

“Well, with Mushiki, we’re kindred spirits. But with Mado, it’s like… I dunno… Like suddenly having your super-conservative parent read an erotic fanzine full of your deepest, most questionable kinks…”

“…That’s not a helpful metaphor. I have no frame of reference for that.”

Hizumi gave her a troubled look, but she did seem to grasp that Ruri had hit her limit. She moved to support her by the shoulder and gently guided her back toward the curtain.

As she did, she turned back to Mushiki and the others with a slightly strained smile. “Well then, honored guests. I’ll be stepping away for a bit, but please, enjoy your stay.”

And with that, despite the nervous sweat beading on her brow, she gave them a quick wink.

Emotion welled up in Mushiki’s chest. Hizumi’s technique might still be a bit rough, but even so, she was unmistakably a professional witch.

But there wasn’t time to sit around being moved forever.

“…Well, then,” Madoka murmured softly, ready to change the subject.

Mushiki swallowed, straightening up in his seat.

Right. The real conversation was only just beginning.

“…I’ll talk to Ruri again on the way out. For now, this takes priority.” With that, Madoka took a sip of the tea in her cup and turned to face Kuroe. “Kuozaki, how much do you know about Mushiki’s situation?”

“I’m familiar with most of it. I was the one who scouted him for this academy, after all.”

“…Hmm.” Madoka narrowed her eyes slightly at this reply.

That subtle change alone was enough to make Mushiki feel like the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

“…If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear how you and Mushiki met.”

“Of course.” Kuroe didn’t flinch in the slightest, speaking with calm, unshaken confidence. “That would have been nearly six months ago now, I believe. Mushiki found me outside the academy, injured, and helped me.”

“…Oh?”

Madoka glanced briefly toward Mushiki. He scratched his head in embarrassment.

The details were a bit off, but the timing and general situation weren’t far from the truth. Given everything they had said so far, Kuroe—despite having no direct connection to Madoka—had probably judged that trying to fabricate a story wholesale would be to risk getting caught out.

“It was during this encounter that I noticed Mushiki’s potential as a mage and invited him to join this academy, Void’s Garden.”

“…His potential as a mage?”

“It’s a little difficult to sum up in a single phrase, but in this context, you can think of it as a kind of sensitivity or affinity for grasping the unknown elements of magic. In fact, Mushiki’s progress in mastering magic has been record-breaking here at the Garden.”

That was true… Although technically, that was because he already had prior experience using magic through Saika’s body, so he was kind of cheating. But still.

Madoka didn’t seem to grasp all the details, but she nodded, understanding enough to move forward.

“…I see. But I wonder if that’s really okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“…Mushiki claims he didn’t transfer here to study magic, but rather because he wanted to marry you. Are you aware of that?”

“Geh! Gah! Ugh!” He coughed violently.

Yes, he was the one who told Madoka that, and yes, Kuroe knew as well—but he hadn’t expected her to throw it in her face right then and there.

“…You’re being too loud, Mushiki.”

“Please be quiet, Mushiki.”

“…S-sorry…”

With both of them telling him off, he found himself wilting like a scolded puppy.

Madoka and Kuroe returned their gazes to each other, locking eyes.

“…Well, then. What do you have to say to that, Kuozaki?”

The tension in the air suddenly thickened, almost tangibly.

And yet Kuroe didn’t bat an eye. “Yes. I’m aware.”

“…”

Madoka narrowed her eyes again. “…So you’re saying you’re deliberately leaving Mushiki’s feelings unanswered to keep him bound to this academy?”

“Mado, that’s—!”

Mushiki tried to jump in at this remark, but Kuroe held up a hand, stopping him.

“I can’t completely deny that. At the very least, it’s true Mushiki is an invaluable asset to the Garden. It would be difficult to claim this hasn’t influenced my decision-making processes in any way.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’m still just a student myself. I hope you can understand that I’m not in a position to respond to his proposal lightly.”

“…That’s fair. On that point, Mushiki is the one rushing things… You should reflect on that,” she said, shooting him a look that could kill.

He bowed. “Yes…”

“However,” Kuroe continued, still not reacting, “from the perspective of a guardian, I can understand how my actions might seem evasive or even dishonest… So today, I’ve decided to say it outright.”

“…Say what?” Madoka raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go on.

“Sister-in-law… Please let me have Mushiki.”

“…”

“…?!”

Her sudden declaration left Madoka speechless, while Mushiki’s breath caught in his throat.

No—more than that.

“Hooold iiittt!”

The curtain separating the hall from the staff area began to writhe violently, and then out leaped Ruri, despite Hizumi having just escorted her away.

“Kuroooeee…! So you’ve finally shown your true colors, you conniving, feathered, homewrecker crow! I knew you were shady! Always slinking around Mushiki, lurking and waiting for your chance to—mgh, mph?!”

At that moment, her impassioned outburst was abruptly cut short.

The reason was simple. The witches who had followed her from behind the curtain hurried to frantically restrain her.

“…Another soul lost to darkness. Tragic.”

“Mrrrgh! Mmmnnn!”

“Let this be a lesson to you all. Never forget the responsibility and dignity that come with wielding magic.”

With those vaguely meaningful lines that carried absolutely no weight whatsoever, Hizumi and the other witches began dragging a struggling Ruri back into the wings. Even amid this chaos, they never broke character. Theirs was a truly admirable degree of professionalism.

A few seconds later, calm returned to the hall. Madoka gave a small nod and bowed slightly to Kuroe.

“…Apologies. My sister was out of line.”

“No, not at all. I must apologize as well for our Grand Witch’s behavior,” Kuroe said, bowing in turn.

It was a surreal exchange.

Still, Mushiki didn’t have the mental bandwidth to reflect on it right now.

And there was a good reason for that. Before he could even think of proposing, Kuroe—no, Saika—had beaten him to it.

He focused his thoughts through the strand of hair tied around his finger.

K-Kuroe…! Are you serious right now…?!

Why are you so flustered, Mushiki? she responded, as calm as ever.

Wh-why?! Because of what you just said! You—

Yes. It was the most efficient way to win your sister over… Of course, I wasn’t being serious, so please don’t worry.

…Ah.

At that, Mushiki slumped hard.

Right… Of course… Yeah… I knew that…, he thought.

Is that whiplash? Kuroe asked.

Whether it was out of pity or pragmatism, she gently continued addressing him a moment later.

Stay focused, Mushiki. Convincing your sister is the priority right now. Besides… Still expressionless on the outside, she added through their link, You’ll be the one who delivers the real proposal once our bodies are separated, won’t you?

…!

His eyes widened. Her voice belonged to Kuroe, but at the same time, it didn’t.

Yes. That was Saika’s elegant and refined tone, speaking from within Kuroe’s body.

The strand of hair tied to his finger seemed to radiate heat, like a ripple spreading outward.

He clenched his fists tightly. Yes…!

Right. His goal hadn’t changed at all, not since the day he’d first met Saika, half a year ago.

His task wasn’t to get caught up in every little twist and turn, but to keep moving forward, step by step, toward his ultimate objective: proving his worth to Saika for when that moment finally came.

He couldn’t afford to stumble here.

Filled with renewed determination, he lifted his head.

“…Mado. You heard it yourself. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m serious. About transferring to the Garden”—he paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then continued—“and about marrying Saika. I want your blessing.”

“…”

Madoka fell silent for a long beat, then shifted her gaze to Kuroe.

“…I have a lot of questions,” she said at last, her voice a little sour. “But first off, I’m not your sister-in-law.”

“Of course,” Kuroe replied smoothly, unbothered by Madoka’s sulky tone.

Madoka sighed, ran her hand through her hair, and went on. “…I get what you’re saying. And it’s nice to see someone who values my brother so highly… But as Mushiki’s guardian, I can’t give my permission that easily. Especially when it comes to that part… Mushiki’s partner has to be someone I approve of. That’s something I decided a long time ago.”

“Huh…?!” Mushiki’s eyes flew wide open. This was the first he had heard about that. “W-wait a sec! You might be my guardian, Madoka, but you can’t just—”

But just as he was about to protest, Kuroe held up her hand to silence him.

She turned back to Madoka, composed as ever. “What must I do to earn your approval?”

“…Easy.” Madoka raised her right hand slowly and pointed to her chest with her thumb. “Beat me.”

“Hah?”

That one brutally simple condition caught even Kuroe off guard.

For once, her eyes widened in surprise.

“…”

Under the dim glow of the magic lamps illuminating the night, Asagi Shiranui, a budding mage from the mage-training institute Hollow Ark, clutched her aching stomach.

She wore a white sailor uniform and a haori cloak, and her face was hidden behind a fox mask—a strange getup by anyone’s standards. In fact, visitors had been sneaking glances at her ever since she arrived.

But Asagi didn’t care in the slightest about strange looks. Her haori cloak and mask were the official attire of the Azures, the Ark’s disciplinary committee. More importantly, compared to the real cause of her stomachache, something like that was a nonissue.

Yes. Tonight, the Azures had come to the Garden Night Soiree as a group. And yet—

“Hmm. It’s been a while since I visited the Garden. When was the last time I was here in person?”

Among them was a girl who, unlike the others, wore neither a haori cloak nor a mask.

She looked to be around sixteen or seventeen. Her eyes were sharp, her expression brimming with confidence, while her long hair was neatly tied back with a hairpin.

She, too, was garbed in the white sailor uniform marking her as an Ark student, but somehow, it looked awkward on her, like she wasn’t used to wearing it.

But that came as no surprise. After all, she was the only member of the group who wasn’t a student of the Ark at all.

Her name was Ao Fuyajoh, and she was the head of the prestigious Fuyajoh family and the longtime headmistress of Hollow Ark.

She might have looked young, but she was a centuries-old archmage.

“Quite the crowd tonight. Look at this, Asagi! They even have stardust cotton candy. Why don’t we grab some?”

Without waiting for a reply, Ao drifted off toward the food stalls lining the main street, forcing Asagi and the others to hurry after her.

“…Please, try not to stray too far from us, ma’am. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh? Don’t be so uptight. This is a festival. Lighten up!”

“Even so…”

“And besides, we’re supposed to be undercover, so stop calling me ma’am. I’m disguised as a student, remember? If you don’t ease up, people are going to catch on.”

“…”

To begin with, Asagi would have preferred to put a stop to this altogether.

She gave silent thanks for the mask covering her face. Without it, Ao would have been able to see the look of utter despair that had fallen over her features.

Whether Ao noticed or not, she let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, let’s keep moving. Our first stop is Class 2-A’s booth. You haven’t forgotten what we’re here for, have you?” She paused for a second, crossing her arms. “I need to see for myself how things are progressing between Ruri and Saika, or maybe Ruri and Mushiki.”

Indeed. Ao hadn’t come to the Garden just to enjoy herself—though Asagi and the others would have preferred if that had been the reason.

Asagi grimaced behind her mask, but she did her best to keep her voice steady. “Permission to make a suggestion, ma—”

“…”

Ao shot her a frosty glare. Asagi coughed lightly and corrected herself. “…Lady Ao.”

“That still sounds a little stiff, but I’ll let it slide. So? What’s the suggestion?” Ao asked.

Asagi straightened her posture and continued, “Yes, well. I’d like to propose something.”

“Oh?”

“If you were to suddenly appear before Ruri, Lady Ao, she would no doubt react with considerable shock. Considering past circumstances, she seems to harbor complicated feelings toward you. Approaching her directly might backfire.”

“Hmm. Go on.”

“My proposal is this: We split into two groups. One group, centered around you, Lady Ao, will stay here and wait. Meanwhile, the second group, led by me, will observe Ruri and the others from a distance. We’ll then report back with what we’ve learned, and then we can all return to the Ark.”

“I see… But—” Ao’s brow twitched slightly. “That means I’ll just be sitting around the whole time! Why are you so desperate to keep me from seeing Ruri and the others?!”

“Th-that’s not it! I’ve come up with this plan purely out of consideration for your and Ruri’s feelings. It has absolutely nothing to do with how painful it is to watch you cosplay as a high school student and how much we’d like to minimize the number of witnesses—”

“What did you just say?!” Ao snapped, lunging forward to grab her by the collar and shake her violently.

All Asagi could do was rattle and clatter inside her fox mask.

At that moment—

“…Hmm? Is that you, Asagi?” someone called out from behind her.

Ao released her grip. Asagi feigned a cough and straightened up, turning toward the voice.

Standing there was a breathtakingly beautiful girl—or so it seemed. In fact, it was a boy.

With dazzling blond hair and doll-like features, the boy had a delicate frame that looked like it might snap if you so much as touched it. He wore the dark uniform of Twilight City, though the secret agent–like garb looked hilariously out of place on him.

“…Himemiya!”

“Yo. Long time no see. Not since the remedial camp on Nirai Island, right? You’re still sporting that crazy outfit, huh?” the boy—Raimu Himemiya—said with a grin that left his angelic face looking more than a little bit mischievous.

He was a mage and magical device creator from another mage-training institute whom Asagi had met during a joint remedial training camp. If not for that experience, even she might have struggled to realize he was a boy. Perhaps because of the heat, his hair was messily tied into twin bunches, making him look even more girlish.

“So what’s with the big group? What are you doing here?”

“Uh, well… It’s a long story.” Asagi coughed awkwardly, unable to easily explain the situation to an outsider. “And you, Himemiya? What are you doing here?”

“Huh? What do you think?”

He raised both hands. They were piled with takoyaki, cotton candy, and water balloons—clear evidence he had been enjoying the festival stalls to the fullest.

“This is a once-a-year festival, you know? You’ve gotta enjoy it while it lasts. Also figured I’d try to see Mushiki’s face while I’m here. Not like I’d come all the way to another school otherwise. Plus…”

“Yes?”

“You know what they say. Where there’s a crowd, there’s money.”

“…”

Beneath her mask, Asagi broke into a nervous sweat as Raimu made a coin shape with his fingers.

Then he grinned slyly and added, “Well, that’s just a side benefit… Honestly, it’s probably the same for those two.”

“Those two…?”

Asagi followed his gaze, her eyes widening under her mask.

Two figures stood behind Raimu.

One was a tiny girl wearing the middle school uniform of Shadow Tower.

The other was a towering, muscular girl in the uniform of Ember’s Peak.

Rindoh Shionji and Nene Mushanokouji. Both had also attended the remedial training camp on Nirai Island.

“Rindoh, Nene. It’s been a while. I didn’t realize you both were here, too.”

“H-hello.”

“Hey. How have you been?”

Rindoh bowed stiffly, while Nene nodded calmly.

Then Raimu, grinning wide, pointed his thumb at them. “I ran into Rindoh sneaking around the Garden looking all suspicious, and I caught Mushanokouji smashing up a punching machine at one of the stalls. I figured they’re here for the same reasons, so I dragged ’em along.”

“I—I wasn’t sneaking around! That sounds terrible!”

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to break it.”

Rindoh protested, her face red, while Nene looked genuinely remorseful, her massive biceps twitching slightly.

They were, well, just as chaotic as ever. It hadn’t been all that long since the remedial camp, but seeing the people she had shared meals and tents with made Asagi feel strangely nostalgic.

“By the way…” Just then, Raimu seemed to remember something, glancing over Asagi’s shoulder. “Who’s that over there? I swear, they look an awful lot like you…”

“…!”

Those words made Asagi jolt, her shoulders twitching.

She had been so distracted by the familiar faces that she had completely forgotten none other than Ao was with her, right in Raimu’s line of sight.

Asagi nearly broke into an uncontrolled panic. Now that she thought about it, all three of them had seen her real face underneath the mask back during the incident on Nirai Island.

Of course, Asagi and Ao looked alike. And it wasn’t just her—all the women of the Fuyajoh clan were, without exception, copies and substitutes of Ao herself.

But that was top-secret Fuyajoh clan information. Outsiders couldn’t be allowed to know. Not to mention the fact that the head of the Fuyajoh clan had snuck into the Garden Night Soiree disguised as a high school girl for extremely dumb—or rather, personal—reasons. That was very much classified.

As Asagi scrambled to figure out how she could possibly respond, Ao stepped forward with a small, serene smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Asagi’s…cousin.”

“Huh?” Asagi gasped before she could stop herself.

But Ao paid her no mind, striking an adorable little pose as she continued, “I’m Aoi Shiranui, seventeen years old!”

“…?!”

It felt like a fuel-air bomb had gone off at point-blank range.

Each of the Azures, Asagi included, froze in utter shock.

An incredible chill ran down their spines. Asagi was at a loss to even describe it. If she had to put it into words, it was like the horrible, stomach-churning awkwardness of accidentally walking in on your mom during something very private. Also, the fake name was just barely passable, and that somehow made it even worse… Not that they really had a choice, as Ao Fuyajoh was far too famous in the mage world.

While Asagi and the other Azures continued to reel, Rindoh tilted her head curiously and spoke to Ao. “So you’re Shiranui’s cousin…?”

“That’s right! Just call me Ao, okay?”

“I see…,” Rindoh replied nervously.

If Asagi remembered right, Rindoh had seen Ao once before, albeit through a bamboo screen. Maybe she was picking up on something odd.

Or perhaps, more simply, it was just that Ao’s pose and aura were like that of an old-school idol from another era.

It wasn’t helping that Asagi and the others were visibly trembling and burying their faces in their hands.

And then—

“Hmm?”

The Azures were still bent backward like backup dancers for Ao when Raimu turned his gaze toward the main street, apparently sensing something.

“What’s up with that crowd? It looks like something’s going on down there.”

Prompted by Raimu’s comment, everyone looked in the same direction.

As if on cue, faint voices from the crowd floated over to them.

“Hey, hey, what’s happening over there?”

“I dunno, but I heard Madam Witch’s attendant is fighting to get married or something?”

“Ha-ha, wow! I wouldn’t have seen that coming.”

“…”

The second she heard those remarks, Asagi instinctively kicked off the ground, darting toward the commotion to see it for herself.

Strictly speaking, she wasn’t the only one. Ao and Rindoh were right behind her, both moving to assess the situation. Rindoh, being a bit too short, was hopping up and down at the back of the crowd, trying to get a better look, while Nene, seeing Rindoh struggle, gave her an effortless boost.

“Ah…” Asagi let out a soft breath when she caught sight of the scene beyond the crowd.

No one could blame her for that. There, plain as day, stood Kuroe Karasuma, Saika’s personal attendant—and another woman, squaring off against her.

And right between the two of them was Mushiki Kuga.

“Um…”

Mushiki and the others had just departed the Witch’s Manor in the central school building café (though he could have sworn he heard the resentful voice of the Grand Witch crying out behind them) and had returned to the main street, lined with food stalls and booths.

After wandering around for a bit and checking out the stands, Madoka came to a stop in front of one particular booth.

It was a shooting gallery. Boxes of candy were lined up on the back shelf, and several rifles were laid out on the counter.

She stared at the booth for a moment, then turned to look back at Mushiki and Kuroe. “…This will do. We’ll both start at the same time. Whoever knocks down more targets in one minute wins… Sound good?”

“This?” Kuroe asked, surprised.

“…Yes. It’s easy to tell who wins or loses. To be honest, anything would be fine. As far as I’m concerned, if you can’t beat me at something, you’re not marrying Mushiki.”

“…”

“…No objections?”

“I object,” Kuroe answered flatly.

Madoka tilted her head slightly in curiosity. “…You’re not confident you can beat me at this?”

“That’s not the issue. You’re forgetting something. This is Void’s Garden, a training institute for mages. The attractions here aren’t the same as those you might find on the outside,” Kuroe said, pointing at the banner above the booth, which read MAGICAL TARGET SHOOTING.

“…This isn’t a normal shooting game?”

“Seeing is better than hearing. Mushiki, why don’t you demonstrate for us?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, okay,” he responded.

At Kuroe’s suggestion, he paid the student running the booth and picked up one of the rifles. The student offered him a handful of cork bullets, ten in total.

Mushiki loaded a round, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger. With a satisfying pop, the cork bullet smacked into the largest target.

And yet it didn’t budge. It didn’t even wiggle. It was like the thing was bolted down tight.

“Huh…?”

“As you can see,” Kuroe said, frowning slightly as she explained, “this is magical target shooting. The targets only fall if the magical energy infused into the bullet exceeds their durability. In other words, it’s a simple way of measuring magical power. No magic in the shot means no effect, no matter how many times you hit. You wouldn’t be able to knock down a single target, since you aren’t a mage. It would be an unfair contest.”

In other words, it wasn’t that Kuroe doubted her own skills, but rather, she was bothered by how stacked the game was against Madoka.

“…Hmm.”

Madoka picked up one of the remaining bullets on the table, rolling it between her fingers thoughtfully. Next, she glanced over at the student running the booth. “…Just to confirm, if I hit the targets and knock them down, I win?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“…And do I have to use the rifle?”

“Huh? Um, no, there’s no rule saying that… But how are you going to shoot without it?”

“…I see,” Madoka said, turning back to Kuroe. “I don’t mind. Let’s do it under these rules.”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“…Of course. But I should be the one asking you: Do you really think you can beat me with a handicap like this?”

“…”

Kuroe’s brow twitched.

Though normally calm and composed, Kuroe was, at her core, extremely competitive. Whether Madoka meant to provoke her or not, it had worked; the woman seemed to have lit a fire in Kuroe’s chest.

“Very well. I warned you. If you’re still okay with it, I’ll accept your challenge.”

“…That’s a good answer.”

Madoka paid the booth fee and took her place at the counter. Kuroe did the same, standing beside her.

“Could you give us a countdown, Mushiki? And start a timer?”

“Ah, right.” He fumbled for his phone, pulling up a timer app. “All right. Ready… Go!”

As Mushiki tapped the screen and dropped his hand to signal the start, Kuroe moved immediately. In one smooth motion, she grabbed the rifle with her right hand, picked up a bullet with her left, and infused the projectile with the dark glow of magical energy.

She loaded and fired an instant later.

Even without her taking the time to carefully aim, the bullet flew straight to the center of the target, guided by a streak of black light. With a satisfying pop, the largest target fell backward.

The crowd around them erupted into cheers at her precise, flawless shot.

“What’s wrong, Sister-in-law? Just standing there won’t knock down any targets,” Kuroe jeered lightly as she infused her second bullet with energy, tossing Madoka’s earlier words back at her.

“…Don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not your sister-in-law,” Madoka answered without even glancing at the rifle, casually picking up a bullet from the table.

“…?”

Kuroe frowned slightly, puzzled by the woman’s strange behavior.

The next moment, Madoka murmured to the student running the stall, “…Step back a bit. And make sure the other students and customers do as well.”

“Eh? Uh, okay…” Though confused, both he and the onlookers shuffled back a few steps.

Once they were clear, Madoka balanced the bullet on her bent index finger, steadying it with her thumb.

And then—

“…”

With a flick of her fingers, she sent the bullet screaming forward.

A loud crack rang out, as though something had exploded, followed by a shock wave that slammed into everyone like an invisible slap to the face. The world blurred and flashed for a moment, and Mushiki nearly stumbled backward.

“…?!”

But that wasn’t all.

From the direction of the targets came a deafening crash.

Everyone turned—and saw that the target was simply gone.

It hadn’t been knocked over—it was gone. Just like Kuroe had explained, without magic-infused bullets, the targets should have stayed bolted in place. The composition formula the students had used to set up the booth should have ensured that.

But now, even the platform the target had been bolted to was missing.

Or, more precisely, a giant chunk of the booth had been ripped away—and the missing pieces, including the target itself, were embedded in the wall of a building far behind the booth, still smoldering.

“Wha—?”

Kuroe’s stunned voice echoed across the silent Garden.

She must have realized it, too; the bullet Madoka flicked had annihilated its target and the platform in one go.

But even knowing what had happened didn’t make it any easier for her to understand how it had happened.

Madoka wasn’t a mage, and she hadn’t infused her shot with magical energy. The target shouldn’t have moved at all.

And yet the results were plain as day.

The silence among the mages was absolute.

“…Hey. Are you going to keep standing there?” Madoka asked quietly.

“—.”

Kuroe sucked in a tiny breath and forced her hands to start moving again.

She must have realized that understanding could wait. Right now, the important thing was to finish the match. She reloaded and fired smoothly.

“…”

Meanwhile, Madoka, completely unfazed, picked up her second bullet. This time, she pressed her fingers together even tighter—so tight that her fingertips turned white and the veins popped out across the back of her hand. The bullet all but screeched under the pressure.

With another snap, she flicked it. The bullet exploded in midair into a spray of shrapnel.

For a second, Mushiki thought she had simply shattered the cork with her strength, but that wasn’t it. The fragments, now scattered like shotgun pellets, slammed into every remaining target on the booth, smashing them all to pieces.

“What…?”

At this stage, there was no point keeping track of time.

Mushiki could only stand there in a daze, all but forgetting the phone in his hand.

They made their way down the main street, lined with food stalls.

…What is she? came Kuroe’s telepathic voice through the strand of hair tied to Mushiki’s little finger.

He forced an awkward, troubled expression. Yeah… I’m just as shocked as you are…

As Mushiki sent this mental response, wiping the sweat from his cheek, Kuroe clenched her fists in frustration.

Not that she could be blamed for that. After the magic shooting game, Kuroe and Madoka had gone around challenging each other at several more stalls—and every single time, Madoka had won flawlessly.

In the Slime Scoop, where you used magic to coat a flimsy scoop to catch slimes, Madoka had managed to manipulate a torn scoop like a master, swirling the water and hauling up a massive number of slimes.

In the Aerial Cut-Out Challenge, where you were supposed to hold a brittle pastry in midair with magic while you carved it out with a needle, she’d handled the task with such insane precision and speed that it was like she was holding up the sweet treat with sheer willpower.

And by the time anyone even realized what was happening in the Lion’s Grand Ring Toss, Kuroe had already lost. Even now, Mushiki had no idea what had gone on in that one.

In short, Madoka had completely steamrolled her way through all these supposedly mage-only games, relying purely on absurd physical skill.

And her opponent wasn’t just anyone. It was Kuroe—or rather, Saika Kuozaki, the strongest mage in the world. She might not have been in her original body at the moment, and she certainly wasn’t at full strength, but her magical control still should have been extraordinary.

Yet even against an expert mage, Madoka had swept every match at booths meant exclusively for mages.

Even a novice like Mushiki could tell just how abnormal this was.

Simply put, his sister was way too strong.

…And in every match, there’s been no sign that she used magic. Is your sister a cyborg or something?

N-no, I don’t think so… Mushiki trailed off, holding his breath for a moment. Could it be…?

Do you know something?

Ah… Sorry, it’s probably nothing.

That’s fine. Please, say it.

W-well… My sister, she’s always drunk a ton of milk since she was little, and she’s really, you know, sturdy.

Please don’t waste my time with irrelevant nonsense.

Kuroe shut him down instantly, and Mushiki let his shoulders droop in shame.

At the same time, Madoka, who had been walking slightly ahead of them, glanced back over her shoulder.

“…So what’s next? Pick whatever you like.”

“Are you sure? I might choose something that puts you at a disadvantage.”

“…Doesn’t matter. I’m going to win anyway.”

“…”

Kuroe’s eyebrows twitched again at this cool declaration.

Her expression remained composed, but knowing how much she valued victory above all else, there was no way she was feeling calm inside.

Heh… You sure like to talk big, don’t you…?

C-calm down! This might be telepathy, but you’re slipping back into your old way of talking, Mushiki pointed out.

…My apologies. Kuroe stood up straight. That said, we’re in a tight spot. The Garden can’t afford to lose you, Mushiki. We have to win at least one match, no matter what. Let’s take Madoka up on her offer and pick a contest where victory is guaranteed, even if it is unfair.

But weren’t the Magic Target Shooting and the Slime Scoop supposed to be guaranteed wins as well? Mushiki asked.

Well, the thing is… Kuroe let out a small groan and crossed her arms, sinking deep in thought.

Then, all of a sudden—

“W-whoa?!”

A student walking toward them suddenly stumbled, sending the tray of takoyaki he was carrying flying through the air.

The next moment, eight little takoyaki balls sailed in a beautiful arc, raining down on Madoka like a meteor shower.

“Mado!” Mushiki called out.

“…”

Without even a hint of panic, she glanced up, reached out at lightning speed, snatched the tray from midair, and casually managed to return every single takoyaki ball back to its original place.

“…Are you okay?”

“Huh…? Whoa!”

As Madoka calmly handed back the restored tray, the student stared at her like she was some kind of alien before bowing frantically.

“I-I’m so sorry! Thank you so much…!”

“…Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”

“O-okay…”

Still looking shell-shocked, the student bowed again and scurried off.

…Well, Madoka had narrowly averted disaster thanks to her extraordinary physical skills, but her luck remained as dreadful as ever. If she had been any normal person, the student would have been covered in sauce right now. Mushiki gave a weak, helpless smile.

And then he noticed—Kuroe was staring at his sister with wide eyes, as if she had just realized something.

Kuroe?

…I see. How could I have missed something so simple? With this, we might actually be able to beat her.

Huh? What is it? Mushiki asked.

Kuroe, however, didn’t answer, instead quickly glancing about at the surrounding area.

After a few seconds, she pointed at a nearby stall.

“…Sister-in-law, let’s have our next match over there.”

“…Hmm?” Madoka murmured as she turned to look.

Mushiki followed her gaze to a brightly decorated food stall with a large sign reading KRAKEN-YAKI. If he had to guess, it was probably just takoyaki with a fancy name.

At first, Mushiki wondered what they could even compete at there, but then he saw the sign posted up front.

CHALLENGE THE KRAKEN ROULETTE! (WARNING: NOT FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN’T HANDLE SPICY FOOD.)

“…Kraken Roulette?”

“Yes,” Kuroe explained. “You order a batch, and one out of the eight pieces is super spicy. We’ll take turns eating one each. Whoever gets the spicy one loses. How about it?”

“…Hmm.” Madoka rested her hand thoughtfully on her chin.

Kuroe? Mushiki called out over the telepathic link. Don’t tell me…

Yes. For whatever reason, your sister seems to have terrible luck. So, rather than overthink things, we’ll challenge her on pure fortune alone.

O-oh… Mushiki nodded, sweating a little at this desperate suggestion.

He had to admit, however, that it did make sense. Madoka’s bad luck was legendary. Plus, in a contest like this, physical prowess wouldn’t help at all. Anyone could win.

“…Fine. I accept.”

To his surprise, Madoka readily agreed, even though the contest was practically designed for her to lose. Maybe she was so used to her bad luck that she didn’t even realize it—or maybe she just didn’t want to reject Kuroe’s challenge after it had been issued.

Either way, the next event was decided. Kuroe nodded dramatically and walked briskly toward the stall.

“One Kraken Roulette, please.”

“Gotcha! What spice level you want?”

“There are levels? Well then, the highest, please.”

“…!”

The moment Kuroe said it, a visible wave of tension ran through the staff behind the stall.

“…You serious, miss?”

“Yes, quite,” Kuroe replied casually to the tough-looking student running the stall.

The student let out a low chuckle, then reached up and pulled a small, sinister-looking bottle off the highest shelf at the back.

“Heh… Never thought I’d be using this one tonight…”

“What’s that?”

“During an experiment, some researchers accidentally created a super-grade chili pepper. Then they mixed it with salamander oil and dryad root to make a hellishly spicy death sauce they dubbed Overlord’s Agony… Heh-heh-heh… Why do you think our stall happens to be parked right next to the medical department?”

“What on earth are you making?” Kuroe asked with a half-glare.

It seemed, however, that there was no stopping the stall operator now.

“One order of Kraken Roulette, Inferno Level!” he roared in a deep voice.

“Yessir!”

At his call, a massive tentacle, chained up and dangling, was hauled in behind the food stall.

“Is that…?” The color drained from Mushiki’s face.

“A kraken tentacle,” Kuroe explained. “Any specimen designated as an annihilation factor shouldn’t have left a corpse, so this must have either been hunted in a special area like Nirai Island or cultured by the alchemy department.”

“It’s not just a scary name…? Wait, can you actually eat that?”

“It’s supposedly nontoxic. I hear the flavor is a bit rough, but if you bake it into a batter and cover it in sauce, it’s not much different from anything else.”

While Mushiki and Kuroe were chatting, the cook, who seemed to be in charge of prep, suddenly widened his eyes and shouted, “Augh! First Substantiation: Scythe-Cloth Slash!”

A world crest on his hip flared briefly, and with an invisible blade, he sliced the Kraken tentacle apart.

As he worked, the stall operator clenched a fist and barked enthusiastically, “First, we dice the prepped Kraken tentacle with a vacuum blade!”

“Oooh…!”

“Then we mix batter enhanced with sea serpent stock, using water magic to stir it efficiently!”

“Wow…!”

“Next, we pour the batter onto the griddle, and while protecting ourselves with illusion magic, we secretly add the death sauce into just a single piece!”

“Whoa…”

“And then, with skillful hands, we flip each ball one at a time!”

“So that part’s still manual, huh?”

“Relying on magic for everything’s a bad habit, kid.”

Grinning, the stall operator flipped the perfectly round balls over by hand. To be fair, delicate work like that probably was better done manually.

“All right! One Inferno Level Kraken Roulette, ready to go! I’ve already called the medical department, so feel free to eat without worry!” he said with an unsettlingly broad grin as he handed over a packed box of Kraken-yaki.

Kuroe paid and took the pack, staring intently at the eight neatly arranged spheres. “Hmm. You can’t tell which is which by looking.”

“Exactly,” the stall operator answered. “It would kill the suspense if you could. They’re completely colorless and odorless, but once you bite down, the teeth of hell itself tear into you. No matter how hardcore a spice fanatic you are, you’ll break out in a full-body sweat, your muscles will seize up, and you’ll lose your ability to stand. They call this stuff poison that’s just waiting for the law to catch up.”

“I’ll be filing a report with the administration office once this match is over.” Letting out a deep sigh, Kuroe turned to Madoka. “That’s the situation. It’s turned out more intense than I expected. You’re free to forfeit if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“…If I win, there’s no problem. But if you’re worried, feel free to back out.”

“…”

Once more, Kuroe’s eyebrows twitched in barely concealed indignation.

Knowing her personality, a challenge like that would only make her less likely to back down… Though to be fair, Madoka didn’t seem to be trying to provoke her.

“Very well. We’ll take turns eating. Whoever collapses first loses. Agreed?”

“…Fine by me,” Madoka answered with a small nod.

“Very well,” Kuroe said, opening the box.

With a toothpick, she picked up the closest Kraken-yaki ball and popped it into her mouth.

“Hmm… Mmm… Expertly cooked.”

Munching on the freshly cooked Kraken-yaki ball, Kuroe gave her verdict. It must have been safe.

“Your turn.”

“…Mm-hmm.”

Madoka grabbed a toothpick, selected a ball without any hesitation, and tossed it into her mouth.

“…Yeah. It’s good.”

Since there was no visible reaction, it seemed hers was safe, too. She gestured for Kuroe to continue.

“Huh…”

As he watched them, Mushiki’s eyes widened. Considering his sister’s legendary bad luck, he thought for sure she would have hit the spicy one right out of the gate.

Then again, it wasn’t like the outcome was guaranteed. The match had just begun. He clasped his hands together in silent prayer as he watched.

“Munch, munch… Huff, huff…”

“…”

Both Kuroe and Madoka took turns steadily working their way through the Kraken-yaki balls, yet no matter how many they ate, nobody hit the death sauce. The number of balls dwindled.

Finally, Kuroe finished the seventh Kraken-yaki.

“This one’s safe, too. Looks like I win,” she declared.

Only one Kraken-yaki ball remained. Since no one had hit the death sauce so far, the last one had to be it.

“…You sure about that?”

Madoka, however, didn’t look at all rattled. She simply popped the final ball into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

“…Nope. Nothing wrong with that one, either.”

“What…?” Kuroe stared back, eyes agape, shooting a look at the stall operator. “What’s going on? Did you forget to add the death sauce?”

“No way! I definitely put it in!”

“…Then did the sauce go bad?”

“Don’t think so…”

Frowning suspiciously, the stall operator dripped a tiny bit of death sauce onto a spare Kraken-yaki ball and shoved it into the mouth of one of his workers.

The next moment—

“Gughyaaahhh!”

With a scream that could shatter glass, the poor employee shot into the air like a spring-loaded toy. His face turned purple, sweat gushed from his pores, and his body spasmed violently with every wheezing gasp.

The medical staff who had been standing at the ready quickly carted him off to the infirmary.

After watching that sad scene, the stall operator turned back to Kuroe.

“See?”

“Honestly, what are you making?” Kuroe said with a heavy sigh, then steeled herself. “In that case, the only explanation is that either the sauce wasn’t added, or the spiked ball wasn’t included in the pack. Bring me another Inferno Level Kraken Roulette. And this time, make two of them spicy.”

“Wh-what?! Y-you serious…?!” The owner shivered, but there was a glimmer of excitement in his sweaty face.

A few minutes later, he handed over another fresh pack.

“Kraken Roulette, Inferno Double! I’m not responsible if you die, all right?!”

“Thank you. In that case…”

Kuroe turned back to Madoka, opening the new pack. Round two of the Kraken Roulette was underway.

But even after eating every last ball, neither Madoka nor Kuroe showed any reaction, let alone broke into an earsplitting scream. The crowd that had gathered around them started murmuring in confusion.

“Hold on. Something’s wrong. This match isn’t working. Let’s pause here.”

“…Hmm. So you forfeit, then?”

“What…?!” Kuroe grimaced at Madoka’s taunt.

With no good solution in sight, they reluctantly ordered a third pack.

And so the Kraken Roulette continued.

By the time they hit the tenth pack, half of the balls—four out of eight—were death sauce-loaded. Each round brought a full 50 percent chance of hell unfolding in your mouth.

And still, neither one of them drew a hit. Something was clearly very wrong.

“N-no way…”

Watching nervously, Mushiki let out a gasp.

He couldn’t believe the owner would keep messing up. And it was next to impossible that Madoka, the very embodiment of bad luck, hadn’t pulled a spiced ball even once.

…Could it be she had been pulling hits from the very start?

On the surface, it was a simple game—whoever ate the super-spicy Kraken-yaki ball would be the loser.

And yet what the rules actually said was the loser would be the one who collapsed first, not the one who ate a spicy ball. Only the person themselves would know if they had ended up landing a hot one.

Kuroe! Stop the match! Abort now! Mushiki cried out desperately via telepathy—but it was too late.

“…Urgh!”

Having pushed herself past her physical limits, Kuroe finally crumpled to her knees, hand clamped over her mouth.

“A-are you okay, Kuroe?” Mushiki asked with a worried look shortly after the Kraken Roulette match.

“…Yes. I’ve put my previous body into standby mode… How strange. Even though my stomach is empty, I still feel full to bursting,” Kuroe answered with a grimace as she rubbed her belly.

Apparently, she had taken a short break and transferred her soul into a spare body. Yet somehow, the sensations from earlier were still lingering. Was this what they called “phantom limb syndrome”? Mushiki couldn’t help but feel awed by the mysteries of the human body.

“…More importantly.”

Clearing her throat, Kuroe shifted her focus to Madoka, who was sitting a little way away, happily munching on a piece of yakitori chicken. Despite having stuffed herself with Kraken-yaki earlier, she was still eating.

Kuroe’s face twisted in frustration at the sight.

“As it stands, I’ve suffered a complete and utter defeat. I can’t afford to lose the next match.”

“Yeah, but what should we do for the next one?” he began to ask, when—

“Hello there, Mushiki!” a familiar voice called out from behind him.

“Huh?”

He turned around with a jolt, his eyes widening as he spotted his little sister, Ruri.

Or so he thought.

But no, that wasn’t right. The face was the spitting image of Ruri’s, but her hair was done up in a style Ruri would never wear, and she was dressed in the white sailor uniform of the Ark. The biggest tell, however, was that the girl’s expression and the tone of her voice were completely different from Ruri’s.

And behind her, Mushiki noticed a group of people all wearing fox masks and haori jackets—a sight that inevitably brought a certain name to mind.

“…No way…”

“Headmistress Fuyajoh. What are you doing here?” Kuroe, also realizing it, murmured under her breath.

Yes. Standing there was Ao Fuyajoh, the headmistress of the mage-training institute Hollow Ark.

Ao, however, was paying no mind to their shock and raised her voice irritably. “What in the world is going on here? I’ve been listening in on you for a while now, and I hear you’re marrying Saika’s attendant? What about Ruri? What happened to Ruri?!”

“P-please, calm down, Lady Ao.”

Clearly flustered, a masked girl tried to rein Ao in. Mushiki recognized her at once—the head of the Azures, Asagi.

“Calm down?! How am I supposed to stay calm?! Where’s Saika?! She’s supposed to be looking after Ruri, and now this is what’s happening?! I swear, I’m going to—”

“Please, j-just give me a second.”

Mushiki quickly tried to relax her, lowering his voice and giving her the shortest possible explanation—that to get his sister’s permission to transfer to the Garden, he was having Kuroe play the role of Saika and pretend to be his fiancée, too.

Ao stroked her chin. “Hmm… You’re telling me that woman’s your guardian from outside of the Garden? I didn’t know Ruri had an older sister.”

“Well… She’s the daughter of my dad’s first wife, so…”

“What a pain. Getting all up in her little brother’s career and love life? She’s far too overprotective. Some things should be left up to the individual. That’s what it means to have personal freedom.” Ao crossed her arms, saying all this as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had tried to chain down Ruri just a few short months ago. Mushiki could only manage a powerless laugh.

A second later, Ao leaned in, lowering her voice. “Mushiki, you should come join us. You’re going to be a mage anyway, and it would make life that much easier. I’ll sign off on anything you want. Think about it. Mushiki Fuyajoh—it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“…I appreciate the offer, but I think that would just complicate things even more.” He politely declined.

“Well, I understand the situation now,” Ao answered with a light shrug. “Essentially, you just need to beat her, right?”

“Well… Yes. But it’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not. That’s why you pick a contest with a vague victory condition,” she declared with the utmost confidence.

“Huh…?” He stared back at her in shock.

Waving her hand casually, she started striding boldly toward Madoka. “Hey, you.”

“…?” Madoka raised her eyebrows, startled. “Ruri…? No, wait, you’re different. You look just like her, but you’re not her… Who are you?”

“Aoi Shiranui. I’m Ruri’s cousin on her mother’s side. Nice to meet you.”

“…I see. Nice to meet you, too.”

Despite the obviously made-up introduction, Madoka accepted it without protest. After all, Ao’s appearance was that convincing. She looked so much like Ruri that it was almost frightening.

“I overheard everything,” Ao continued, puffing out her chest proudly. “I’ll decide the next contest.”

“…Oh? I don’t mind. So what is it?” Madoka asked.

Ao pulled a flyer from her pocket.

Upon seeing the printed words, Madoka narrowed her eyes. “…The Miss Garden Contest?”

“Exactly. Whoever takes first place wins. Sound good?” Ao asked as she flashed her a fearless smile.

Chapter 4: Handle Trouble Calmly

“…Oh-ho? Sounds like something fun’s a-brewing.”

At the Garden’s bustling main street, lined with food stalls, Raimu peered through a crowd, eavesdropping on the commotion before returning to the others.

All but waiting for him, Rindoh and Nene immediately pounced with questions.

“H-how did it go?”

“What’s happening?”

“Well… Looks like that grumpy lady over there is Kuga’s sister. And if she wins the Miss Garden Contest, then Kuga has to quit being a mage or something,” Raimu said, summarizing what he had seen and heard.

Rindoh’s eyes widened in shock, while Nene furrowed her brow.

“Wha—?! Wh-what the heck?!”

“Sounds like a pretty big escalation. How did it come to that?”

“Beats me. I only caught bits and pieces. But it seems like that lady’s a nonmage and she doesn’t approve of Kuga being at the Garden.”

Rindoh’s hands trembled with anger. “U-unbelievable… For family to stand in the way of the noble mission of saving the world…!”

“You think? Pretty normal if you ask me. From an outsider’s perspective, magic sounds shady as hell, not to mention dangerous. Not that someone born and raised in a prestigious family would get it.”

“…That’s a bit rude, isn’t it?” Rindoh pouted.

“Eh? You think so? Sorry, didn’t notice,” Raimu answered, playing dumb.

“…Whatever. More importantly, why a beauty contest?”

“Beats me. Ask Ao.” He shrugged.

From what he could tell, the idea had come from the cousin Asagi had introduced.

A moment later, he remembered something else.

“Oh yeah, one more thing. Kuga was saying something about marrying that black-haired girl who was with him.”

“…Huh?! Wh-what?!” Rindoh gasped, almost choking. “Wait, wait, that’s… You mean Madam Witch’s attendant?!”

“Is that who she is? I dunno.”

“Why would she and Kuga…?! I thought the attendant was in love with Madam Witch…!”

“Oh? Now that’s an interesting tidbit.”

Raimu leaned in and grinned, but Rindoh clammed up with a jolt, averting her gaze.

It was an intriguing claim, but it didn’t look like she was going to let anything else slip. Raimu let out a small sigh, fiddling with his phone in one hand as he casually tossed a question at the two of them. “So what’s the plan?”

“Huh…?”

“What do you mean, ‘the plan’?”

Rindoh and Nene tilted their heads in confusion.

“Come on, seriously?” Raimu shrugged with exaggerated flair. “A buddy you’ve shared meals with is in deep trouble here. Isn’t it just basic decency to step in and help?”

“That might be true, but what could we even do? Meddling in a family dispute would only make things worse,” Rindoh said with a grimace.

Raimu, however, wagged a finger at her, tsking under his breath. “I already told you, didn’t I? If Kuga’s sister wins first place at the beauty contest, he’s getting pulled out of school. I don’t know how things got that messed up, but the issue itself is dead simple. We just have to make sure his sister doesn’t win.”

“Are you suggesting sabotage?”

“No, no, no. There’s no need for anything that underhanded. Turns out anyone can jump in and enter this pageant. And we happen to have two lovely young ladies right here.”

Rindoh and Nene exchanged glances, like they couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. Both of them stiffened as they let out simultaneous gasps.

“Y-you can’t mean…”

“You want us to enter?!”

The two of them looked absolutely horrified.

“Bingo!” Raimu exclaimed, snapping his fingers dramatically. “They’re still accepting entries, and they’ll even lend you outfits. Just go out there and knock the audience dead with those good looks of yours.”

“N-no way! That’s indecent!” Rindoh shook her head so hard that it was almost a blur.

“And, uh, well, it’s kind of embarrassing…,” Nene muttered, blushing faintly.

Raimu let out a big, theatrical sigh. “Wow, you guys are so heartless. At this rate, Kuga’s gonna get pulled out of school, you know? Oh, how tragic! His bright future as a mage, snuffed out over something so stupid! Without Kuga, whole battlefronts could collapse! Lives will be lost, and blood will be spilled—all because two of his so-called friends refused to join a beauty pageant when it mattered most…!”

“Ugh, grrr…,” Rindoh groaned, her shoulders shaking at this over-the-top lamentation.

Of course, Raimu had mostly just said that for effect; whether or not the two girls did anything, it wouldn’t actually be their fault if things went south. But Rindoh, being the serious type, clearly couldn’t just brush it off.

Then Nene pointed at Raimu’s hand, noticing something.

“By the way, what have you been messing with on your phone all this time?”

“Huh?” His voice cracked slightly.

That moment of hesitation was all Rindoh needed to snatch the device right out of his hand.

“Hey…!”

Raimu reached out to grab it back, but he was too slow.

Rindoh and Nene began reading aloud from the screen.

“…Members-only gaming site, Grimoire Maker.”

“Listing: Miss Garden Contest. Third favorite: Rindoh Shionji. Betting odds: three-point five to one…”

They both trained sharp and accusatory glares on him.

“Himemiya? Don’t tell me…”

“You were planning to gamble on the contest results?”

“…Nope?” he answered with an unconvincing, sweat-slicked grin.

Rindoh and Nene narrowed their eyes and closed in on Raimu from both sides.

“Hey, the reason you had to do makeup classes before was because your gambling site got busted then, too, right?”

“If it happens again, it might really mean expulsion, huh?”

“W-wait, wait, come on, don’t make it sound so bad…” Raimu laughed nervously, trying to play it off.

Rindoh and Nene only pressed closer.

“We’re not total monsters. As fellow makeup class survivors, we’ll let this slide if you shut the site down right now.”

“Choose. This is your fork in the road.”

“Aw, c’mon! Do you have any idea how many customers I’ve got? No way I can just—”

“If you can’t, then we’ll report you to the City’s administration office. And smash that phone of yours while we’re at it.”

“Hup, hup!”

Right on cue, Nene started throwing air punches. With arms like logs and fists like boulders, she could probably turn Raimu’s phone into dust in about two hits.

“Grrr… Dammit…,” Raimu groaned, before finally letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine! There, happy?”

After tapping a few buttons on his phone, he showed the screen to the two of them.

Rindoh rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then gave Nene a glance. “Can you double-check that the site’s really down, Mushanokouji? If you find he’s used some trick to restore it later, go ahead and turn his phone into a nice foldable model.”

“Got it.”

Nene reached out menacingly. Raimu squeaked in panic and started frantically tapping on his phone again.

“W-wait! There was just a little left over! I totally forgot! It wasn’t on purpose, I swear! I swear!” he insisted, practically sweating bullets.

Rindoh and Nene glanced at the screen with a notable dearth of amusement, then shrugged.

“Fine. We’ll let it go.”

“Better walk the straight and narrow from now on.”

“Man, this blows… It was prime earning season, too…”

As Raimu scratched his head furiously, Rindoh and Nene grabbed his shoulders from either side.

“Anyway, leaving all that aside,” Rindoh said, “I’m not saying everything you said earlier was wrong. We do want to help Kuga after everything he did for us back on Nirai Island.”

“But this isn’t just on us, is it?”

“Hah? What the hell?”

Still dazed, Raimu barely managed to get the words out as the two of them started dragging him off.

About thirty minutes after Ao had made her suggestion, Mushiki and the others came in front of a special stage set up inside the Garden.

The area was already packed with spectators, all eagerly awaiting the start of the Miss Garden Contest. Watching the crowd, Mushiki forced a small, awkward smile.

“A beauty contest, huh…? I wasn’t expecting Ao to come out with something like that…”

“That said, in a contest like this, it won’t matter how superior your sister’s strength and stamina are. This way, we should have a realistic chance of winning,” Kuroe said thoughtfully.

Mushiki nodded in firm agreement. “Yeah. This is good. Now Mado will have to approve my school transfer.”

“Well, we haven’t won yet. Not until—”

Kuroe cut herself off midsentence. Maybe she’d realized it wasn’t good to start voicing doubts before the contest even began. Or maybe it was because she had caught sight of Mushiki’s clear, unwavering gaze, already assured of her victory.

“Heh. Yes, you’re right. If I’m going to do this, I’m doing it to win.”

Filling the gap during that lull in their conversation, an announcement blared from the speakers, echoing across the hall.

“All right, everyone! It’s time to start the Miss Garden Contest! Unfortunately, some of our little sisters who were supposed to participate seem to have suddenly fallen ill and were rushed to the infirmary, so we’re now accepting last-minute entrants! Oh, and by the way, a public service announcement: The Kraken-yaki food stall has been shut down!”

The voice belonged to Silvelle, the Garden’s administrative AI. Apparently, she was serving as the contest’s host. She sure did love her events.

Looking up at the stage, they saw a floating 3D projection of someone who looked exactly like Hildegarde, waving cheerfully.

That made sense, in its own way. Silvelle’s visual model had been based on her creator, Hildegarde; she had the same face and the same figure. The only real difference was that Silvelle wore even skimpier clothes and was a lot more animated. Considering how eye-catching she was, she risked drawing more attention than the contestants.

“It looks like your sister has already moved into position. I’ll have to head out, too.”

“Good luck.”

Mushiki clenched his fists and watched Kuroe go, then moved to a spot where he would have a better view of the stage and waited for the contest to begin.

Shortly afterward, Silvelle’s voice echoed from the speakers again.

“Each contestant will have three minutes to make their case to the audience! The level of the cheers and applause will determine each contestant’s score, so everyone, make sure to show your love…! Now let’s get started! Entry number one!”

At Silvelle’s announcement, a female student walked out onstage. She must have been promoting her class’s exhibit, because she was dressed in a ghost costume.

After a brief greeting, her three minutes began. She quickly leaped into an elegant dance, prompting the audience to erupt into cheers.

A moment later—

“Thank you so much! You were adorable! My big-sister heart is overflowing from all that little-sister energy…! Okay, next up is a last-minute entry from outside the Garden! Entrant number two: Rindoh Shionji!”

“Huh…?”

When Mushiki heard the name, his eyes widened in surprise.

Yes. He knew Rindoh—she was one of the students he had attended the remedial camp with on Nirai Island.

This was the Garden Night Soiree, so it wasn’t unusual to have outside students in attendance. Still, Rindoh was, to put it lightly, a particularly serious and rule-abiding type—or, less kindly, stiff as a board. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to join a beauty contest.

“…”

While Mushiki was still processing all this, a girl stepped onstage.

There was no mistaking her—it was Rindoh, exactly as he remembered her, which made it even harder to believe his eyes. She was wearing a cropped shirt and a miniskirt, holding pom-poms like some kind of cheerleader.

Even though she must have chosen the outfit herself, her face was bright red.

She managed a tiny greeting, her voice barely above a whisper. “H-hello…”

Perhaps picking up on her nerves, someone in the audience called out, “You can do it!”

That, however, only made her lower her head even further in embarrassment.

“All right! Your three minutes start now!”

Silvelle’s voice rang out again, causing Rindoh to violently flinch. Hesitantly, she started shaking her pom-poms with a soft rustling sound.

“G-go, team, go…”

Her trembling voice barely carried across the stage, but her painfully earnest performance earned warm cheers from the crowd.

Finally, after a quick bow, she fled the stage. Mushiki, still half-stunned, clapped lightly.

“Why in the world is she here…?” he wondered aloud.

But the surprises weren’t over yet.

Just as Rindoh disappeared backstage, Silvelle’s voice came through the speakers again.

“Heee! What a lovely cheerleader! So much sisteranium! What? You don’t know what sisteranium is? It’s the nutrient that boosts your little-sister levels! It makes your skin glow and improves your digestion! Be sure to get plenty…! Anyway, next up is another outside entry! Entrant number three: Nene Mushanokouji!”

“What?!” Mushiki yelped again as another familiar name was announced. Then a massive silhouette loomed onstage.

The whole audience gasped—but who could blame them? The newcomer was a girl with a body built like a rock, every inch of her covered in muscle.

Just like Rindoh a moment ago, she was wearing, technically, a super-short nurse outfit… Frankly speaking, however, one’s eyes were drawn less to the uniform and more to the sheer power of the legs bursting out from under the skirt. Her muscles were the costume.

“…”

Nene crossed her arms and stood proudly at center stage, absolutely still. A few niche fans in the audience let out loud cheers.

Of course, those comments sounded very different from earlier— comments like, “She’s huge!” and “Look at that definition!” and “She could probably carry a Jeep on those shoulders!”

Even when Silvelle announced the start of her three minutes, Nene didn’t move an inch.

She stayed frozen until the time ran out, then quietly walked offstage.

“S-she didn’t move at all…”

“No, that was the performance. She was showcasing the perfection of her body as a form of art.”

“I—I see…”

The people around Mushiki started murmuring all sorts of theories about Nene’s odd behavior.

Yet having spent time with her on Nirai Island, he suspected the truth was much simpler.

Most likely, Nene had just been embarrassed.

She wasn’t used to this kind of situation, and her nerves had frozen up on her.

Still, thanks to her commanding presence, hardly anyone else seemed to notice.

“Hmm, that was an unexpected routine! But from a big-sister point of view, it’s definitely a plus! A strong, serious little sister shyly calling you ‘big sis’—that’s some real premium content…! Okay, next up! Entrant number four: Raimu Himemiya!”

“…Huh?” Mushiki let out a confused grunt.

There were two reasons for that. First, Raimu Himemiya was another student from the Nirai Island remedial class. And second—

“Hiii there!”

A person in a bunny-girl costume burst onstage, sending the audience into an uproar.

But that reaction wasn’t surprising. After all, they were an unparalleled beauty, complete with shimmering, silky blond hair.

…Or rather, Mushiki corrected himself internally.

There was a second reason he had reacted with such surprise—Raimu was actually a boy.

Sure, he looked for all the world like a beautiful girl, but Raimu himself was completely unaware of it. He didn’t seem like the type to voluntarily enter a beauty contest, either.

What on earth had come over him?

As his three minutes began, Raimu waved and blew kisses at the audience, looking half-desperate.

Mushiki could only look on in a nervous sweat.

“Everyone, pleeeaaase cheer for meee! Aghhh, damn iiit!”

There was a strangled cry at the end, but it got drowned out by the thunderous applause.

When Raimu’s time was up, he left the stage, waving and tottering a little on his unfamiliar high heels, having snagged the loudest cheers of the contest so far.

“Wh-what was that all about…?” Mushiki muttered, when—

In the middle of the crowd buzzing with excitement, he spotted a group of familiar-looking girls wearing fox masks and haori cloaks.

Oddly enough, though they were standing in the viewing area, they weren’t even looking at the stage. Instead, they seemed flustered, anxiously scanning the crowd. Curious, Mushiki wove through the spectators toward them.

“Asagi? What are you doing here?”

“…! Mushiki!”

No sooner had he called out to her than she whipped around with a startled look.

“Have you seen Lady Ao? I looked away for just a second, and she disappeared…”

“No, I haven’t… But she’s not a child. I’m sure she’s fine. Right?”

“Probably, but still…” She trailed off, her shoulders giving a small tremble. “I don’t know how to explain it… I just have a really bad feeling about something.”

“A bad feeling…?”

Mushiki furrowed his brow. Just then, however, one of the Azures behind Asagi called out, “Captain! Over there! Could that be Lady Ao?”

“What?!” Jolted by the voice, Asagi snapped her head in that direction.

Mushiki likewise turned to look.

Sure enough, he spotted a girl who looked strikingly like Ruri, pushing her way through the crowd toward them with a fierce glint in her eyes.

And yet—

“There you are, Mushiki! I’ve been looking for you. You’re going to explain what happened earlier!”

When he head the girl’s voice, Mushiki widened his eyes.

“Wait… Ruri?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Of course it’s me. Did you forget your own sister’s face?”

“Uh, no… But what about the Witch’s Manor?”

“I’m on my break!” she shouted, puffing out her chest.

Sure enough, though she had taken off her wig, she was still wearing the deep midnight-blue dress reserved for the Grand Witch, the highest rank in hospitality witches. She must have been dying to rush after Mushiki and Kuroe, yet true to her nature, she had still finished her job before coming.

But if this really was Ruri, that meant they still had no idea where Ao had gone.

“R-Ruri…?” Asagi asked, her voice trembling. “Then where could Lady Ao be…?”

“Asagi? What are you doing here?” Ruri shot back, when—

“All righty! Next up, entrant number seven: Ruri Fuyajoh!”

“Here I go!”

To everyone’s shock, a girl with Ruri’s face bounded cheerfully onstage.

“What—?!”

“L-Lady Ao…?!”

Ruri blinked in disbelief, while Asagi’s voice cracked in shock.

If the real Ruri was over here, then the girl currently onstage could only be, as Asagi suspected, Ao.

But that just raised more questions. Why was Ao participating in the pageant, and under Ruri’s name? Looking closely, her hair was even styled in Ruri’s signature twin braids. And then there was that outfit—some frilly, retro idol costume like something from decades past.

As Mushiki puzzled over it, Asagi suddenly gasped in realization. “I-it can’t be…”

“Did you figure something out?” he asked.

“Do you remember when Lady Ao suggested this challenge to Kuroe and Madoka? She said whoever placed first in the pageant would be the winner.”

“Ah…”

Mushiki’s eyes widened. That was what she had said.

But thinking about it, it was a strange way of phrasing it. The challenge was supposed to be between Kuroe and Madoka—so logically, whoever got the higher score should win. But the way Ao framed it, if someone else won, the match would be nullified.

“In other words, Lady Ao seems to have left the door open for a third party to intervene. And now she’s onstage under Ruri’s name…”

“D-does that mean—?”

“Lady Ao is trying to win first place as Ruri, so she can give the right to get engaged with you, which Kuroe would have won, to Lady Ruri instead…!”

“Sh-she’s what?!” Ruri shrieked in outrage.

Even if Ruri didn’t know the full story, it was clear Ao was up to something outrageous.

Meanwhile, “Ruri”—actually Ao—was onstage swaying back and forth, clearly trying to give her own spin on the Ruri character.

“Um, this is, like, my first time doing something like this, so I’m suuuper embarrassed, but I’ll do my best for my darling big brother!”

“Gaaarrrggghhh?!”

That unbearably cutesy introduction had the real Ruri screaming in humiliation. It drew stares even in the noisy crowd, with hushed murmurs soon rippling through the audience.

But either Ao didn’t notice or she didn’t care. Completely unfazed, she continued, “And now, please listen to my song, ‘Dream-Colored Lapis Lazuli’!”

But just as Ao grabbed the microphone and struck a pose—wham!

One of Ruri’s shoes flew through the air in a perfect arc and struck Ao squarely on the head.

“Gah!” she yelped, collapsing to the stage. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Get her!”

“Aughhh!”

Just as Ao sat up, the Azures charged the stage and apprehended her with the utmost care.

“H-hey! What are you doing?! Get off me!”

Ao’s protests trailed off as the woman was escorted from the stage.

The crowd buzzed in confusion, when the real Ruri Fuyajoh appeared onstage, swapping places with Ao.

“…I’m Ruri Fuyajoh. Sorry for the commotion. I’m withdrawing.”

With that, she gave a small, embarrassed bow and stepped down from the stage.

The audience, stunned, could only sit there for a long moment trying to figure out what had just happened. But then—

“Well, that was an unexpected turn of events! I feel like Ruuru’s sisteranium levels were a bit lower than usual, but as far as I’m concerned, she’ll always be an adorable little sister…! All right! Let’s get back on track and move on to the next entrant!”

Hearing Silvelle’s bright, carefree voice as it filled the room, the crowd seemed to relax a little, eventually breaking into scattered applause.

“What the heck was that…?”

“That was Ruri Fuyajoh from the Garden, right?”

“Some kind of quick-change act…?”

There were still a few murmurs of confusion, but no real uproar. The mood gradually settled down.

After a short pause, the contest resumed without a hitch.

“Next up is entrant number eight, who wishes to remain anonymous!”

At Silvelle’s introduction, the next contestant appeared onstage.

When Mushiki saw who it was, his eyes widened in shock.

Standing there was none other than Kuroe Karasuma—and she wasn’t in her usual school uniform, either. She was wearing the formal attendant uniform she usually reserved for when she was serving Saika back at the mansion.

Mushiki briefly wondered why she wanted to withhold her identity, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Since she had used the name “Saika Kuozaki” in front of Madoka, she couldn’t exactly enter the contest as Kuroe Karasuma. But if she had entered as Saika, people who knew her by appearance would have definitely noticed something was off. Hiding her name was by far the safest move.

And it seemed to be paying off better than expected. It wasn’t long before whispers of “Who’s that girl?” started spreading through the audience.

“I’ve seen her before. What’s her name again?”

“Isn’t she the one who’s always with Madam Witch?”

“Madam Witch’s attendant is entering the beauty pageant…?”

Her air of mystery seemed to be working in her favor, creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere.

“…I see. Clever move. By hiding her name, she’s made everyone curious about her,” commented someone beside Mushiki—Ruri.

“Ruri! When did you get back?”

“Just now. Got a problem?”

“No, not really…”

He couldn’t help but admire Ruri’s mental fortitude. Really, she was something else.

“…”

Just as the audience’s curiosity reached its peak, Kuroe made her move.

After a formal, graceful bow, she began slipping out of her attendant’s uniform.

“Uh-oh…!”

“K-Kuroe…?”

In front of the restless crowd, Kuroe peeled off her clothes, revealing a sleek competitive swimsuit underneath. She showed it off with a quick spin, prompting a loud cheer from the audience (mainly the boys).

Apparently, she had been wearing the swimsuit under her uniform all along. Mushiki, feeling his heart pound awkwardly, let out a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Ruri, stroking her chin seriously, muttered, “…Tch. So that’s her play. By first appearing in a modest maid outfit and then revealing the swimsuit, she’s creating a sharp contrast… Clever. That thieving crow knows exactly how to toy with a guy’s heart.”

Even as she grumbled, she pulled out her phone and made a note reading, contrast important. Her tone was a bit too much, but the fact that she was willing to learn from her alleged enemy was nonetheless impressive.

Amid the applause and cheers, Kuroe gave another bow and left the stage with her uniform draped over one arm.

Without saying a single word, she had drawn the loudest praise yet. Whether it was all part of her plan or just a lucky coincidence, it had been a masterful performance.

“Thank you very much! That was quite the show! I’m definitely feeling the sisteranium! It’s a crucial nutrient for building a strong body, and your big sister Silvelle will be gobbling it right up…! Moving along, here’s entrant number nine: Madoka Kuga!”

With that announcement, the next contestant took the stage.

A woman with a heavy, reluctant look on her face wandered onto the platform—Mushiki’s sister Madoka.

No matter how talented she might be, following that last performance would be tough. Mushiki clenched his fist, feeling certain that Kuroe had victory in the bag.

“…”

But then, standing center stage, Madoka suddenly shrugged off her jacket.

No way—was she planning to pull the same move Kuroe just had?!

A hushed murmur rippled through the audience.

But Madoka only shed her outer jacket. Underneath, she still wore a thin inner layer. She took a slow, deliberate breath, her shoulders rising and falling gently.

“…”

At this, the crowd caught its collective breath.

Exposed to the open air, her arms and abdomen looked as if they had been sculpted by a master artist.

Sexy wasn’t quite the right word. Nor was she like Nene, with her bulging muscles. Madoka’s body was like a naked blade—sharp and dangerous—and yet it radiated an unmistakable brilliance, like a gemstone forged over countless years.

The young mages in the crowd stared in awe, struck with a kind of wordless admiration.

“…Please,” Madoka murmured.

A student staff member rushed forward, placing a simple table in front of her, and then lined up several empty glass bottles on it.

“…?”

The audience watched on in confusion, question marks all but floating above their heads.

Then—

“…Hmm…”

With a sharp breath, Madoka touched the bottle on the far right.

A beat later, the bottle on the far left—separated by multiple others—crumbled into dust without a sound.

“What…?!”

“What just happened?”

The audience could only stare, dumbfounded, while Madoka calmly pressed her palms together with a bow.

After a brief pause, the hall erupted into cheers.

“…Hey, Mushiki. What was that? Since when can Mado do that sort of thing?” Ruri asked.

“…Don’t ask me. I’ve never seen her do that before, either,” he answered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Narrowing her eyes, Ruri leaned in. “So what’s the deal? I heard from Asagi that it’s going to be a real problem if she wins, right?”

“Ah… Yeah. But…” He stroked his chin, recalling the earlier performances. “Given how things are going…I think we’ll be okay. Kuroe’s cheers were louder. And I get the feeling Himemiya’s in second place, with Mado third.”

“Who’s Himemiya?”

“Uh… The mystery bunny girl?” he said with an awkward grin.

Ruri tilted her head in confusion.

The next moment—

“Wow, what amazing skill! Oh, and this is just in! It turns out Madomado is actually Mukkie’s big sister! As everyone’s big sister, Silvelle here couldn’t be more excited! But no worries—you’re both still my little siblings! Now, moving on—”

Silvelle’s announcement suddenly crackled into static.

At the exact same moment, the huge overhead spotlight illuminating the hall began to sway dangerously. Then it tilted, plummeting straight down toward the center of the stage, right where Madoka and the student assistant were standing.

“—! Look out!”

A scream rang out, but it was too late.

Before anyone could react with magic, the giant metal spotlight, weighing hundreds of kilograms, came crashing down on them.

Or so it seemed.

“Huh…?”

Stunned voices escaped from the audience seating.

But that was only natural. Because there, still standing in the middle of the stage, was Madoka, holding the massive spotlight above her head with just one hand.

“…Are you okay?”

“Y-yes… Um, what about you…?”

“…Happens all the time.”

After making sure the stunned assistant was unharmed, Madoka carefully set down the massive spotlight onstage next to her.

A moment later—

A roar of applause and excitement erupted from the audience, shaking the whole viewing area.

“Holy crap… What was that just now?”

“What kind of magic did she use? I didn’t even see her cast anything!”

“No, she didn’t use anything. She stopped it with her bare hands…”

“Say what?! How’s that even possible?!”

As wild speculation rippled through the crowd, two people in particular were staring in stunned silence.

Naturally, they were Mushiki and Ruri—Madoka’s younger siblings.

“Mushiki… What was that?”

“I’m telling you, I have no idea…”

He was still clapping absentmindedly, slack-jawed, until he suddenly froze and stopped mid-applause.

That unexpected accident, and Madoka’s flawless handling of it, had made the crowd break into thunderous cheers and applause. And this reaction felt even louder than when Kuroe took the stage. If that counted toward Madoka’s score, then the expected outcome could be flipped on its head.

Kuroe’s turn was already over. There was no way for her to earn more points now. At this rate, Madoka might beat them once again.

…Unless someone else managed to take first place instead. But he couldn’t think of anyone who could create an atmosphere capable of surpassing what he had just witnessed.

“…”

Mushiki’s brow twitched.

He did have one idea—one person who might be able to pull it off.

There was no time to hesitate. He reached out over the telepathic link, forming the words in his mind.

Kuroe. Can you hear me?

Yes. What is it? came her response in the back of his head.

At this rate, we might lose again. But… He hurried to lay out the potential solution that had just come to him.

…Are you sure about this, Mushiki?

Yes. There’s no other way. Please, he practically implored her.

Very well, she responded after a beat. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Thank you.

He opened his eyes, unable to remember when he had even closed them.

With that, he caught Ruri glaring at him suspiciously from the side. “Hey. Mushiki? Are you even listening? What are you spacing out for…? Wait. Don’t tell me you were talking to Kuroe in your head again—”

She stopped there midsentence.

The reason was simple: Mushiki suddenly grabbed her hand and locked eyes with her.

“Ruri, I need to ask you something.”

“Wha—?! Wh-what’s this, all of a sudden…?”

“I need you…to take your clothes off.”

Her face exploded bright red at this steady, unwavering request.

“Wh-wh-what are you saying?! There’s no way I’m just gonna—”

“Please. You’re the only one I can ask.”

“Th-that doesn’t even make—”

“Ruri.” He leaned in, his expression deathly serious.

“…F-fine…” She nodded, eyes spinning in circles.

“…Ugh, seriously. What a nightmare.”

Behind the bustling, noisy stage, Raimu, wearing the most fed-up expression imaginable, breathed a sigh of annoyance.

He was still dressed in that ridiculous bunny-girl costume Rindoh and Nene had forced on him, complete with a frilly skirt and a pair of floppy bunny ears on a headband. At one point, he had squatted down with his legs spread wide in that getup, only to have Rindoh scold him with a mortified, “P-please close your legs! That’s indecent!” for reasons that were never quite explained.

He let out a dry laugh, lifting the edge of his ruffled skirt with two fingers.

“What a sick joke, making a guy dress up like this. I’m just the comic relief at this point…”

Grumbling, he thought back to his stage performance a few minutes ago. The crowd had gotten pretty fired up, if he remembered correctly… Though, to be honest, if some guy strutted out in a bunny-girl outfit, even he probably would have cracked up. There was no way anyone could have seriously thought he was a girl.

Heaving yet another sigh, he glanced at the stage. He couldn’t really see what was happening from his vantage point, but judging by the noise, the crowd was still going wild. Even Rindoh and Nene—who had both been nitpicking his posture a minute ago—had gone to see what was causing all the commotion.

Perfect timing.

He pulled his phone out of his bag and opened up an app.

“Well, guess it’s about time I wrapped up my end of the job.”

The app itself wasn’t anything fancy, just a remote-control function that popped the lid on a certain box. He had already planted it before coming here.

“All right, then. The party’s in full swing, and the festival’s hitting its peak. Time to light the big fireworks.”

With a wide smirk, he entered the password and hit the button.

“…”

Madoka stood at the edge of the waiting area behind the stage, crossing her arms as she looked on in silence.

By pure chance, she had caught a falling stage light during the show, which had earned her an unexpected wave of cheers and applause. Saika Kuozaki, the girl Mushiki had his eyes on, had scored decently as well, but Madoka remained confident she would come out on top.

She did want to respect Mushiki’s feelings—but entrusting her little brother to someone from who-knows-where? Not a chance.

“…Hmm?”

While lost in such thoughts, Madoka glanced around, breaking into a slight frown.

The reason was simple. Saika Kuozaki, who had been in the waiting area with her just a moment ago, had vanished.

Surely she hadn’t stormed off because she couldn’t handle losing? As dubious as she was, Saika hadn’t struck Madoka as the kind to run away from reality.

“…Where did she—?”

But that question was cut off by a sudden voice over the speakers.

“Well, that was all of our participants—but it looks like we have a last-minute entrant…! Here she is, contestant number ten: Saika Kuozaki!”

Never in her wildest dreams would Madoka have expected to hear that.

“…What?”

Two waves of confusion hit her all at once.

First, why was Saika heading back onstage when her turn had already ended?

And second, why use her real name this time, when she had gone to the trouble of keeping it hidden before?

But this wasn’t a prank by the host, and Madoka hadn’t misheard, either.

Cutting through the murmurs of the crowd, a lone girl stepped onstage.

Hair like spun sunlight, glowing even in the night.

Vivid, jewel-toned eyes that seemed to hold the awe and envy of everyone watching.

And the dress she wore—a deep midnight-blue gown, as if the night sky itself had been sewn into its fabric, just like the one Ruri had been wearing at the Witch’s Manor.

But there wasn’t a doubt in Madoka’s mind—it was Mushiki, taking the form of a woman.

“Hey, everyone. I know it’s a little uncouth, but I hope you don’t mind if I interrupt for a moment.”

With a smile and a casual wave, Mushiki greeted the crowd. And then—

“Wait, isn’t that…Madam Witch?!”

“No way—the real one?! She’s entering the contest?!”

“You’re kidding! I came to the Garden just hoping to see her!”

A roar of cheers, louder than anything yet today, erupted through the hall.

“I hope you’re all enjoying the soiree. Sorry I haven’t been around much.”

Having transformed into Saika, Mushiki gave a cheerful wave and flashed the crowd a bright smile. But really, no further effort was necessary—simply being Saika Kuozaki was more than enough. And just as he had planned, the crowd’s excitement surpassed even what it had been during Madoka’s performance.

Right. Thanks to Ao’s rules, this contest would be decided by whoever took first place. Realizing the tide had turned against them, Mushiki had enlisted Kuroe’s help, quickly changed identities, and entered the fray as a final secret weapon, Saika Kuozaki.

Incidentally, he had borrowed the outfit from Ruri. Mushiki had figured the cheap cosplay outfits prepared by the organizers wouldn’t cut it against Madoka… Granted, Ruri had shot him an intense glare the moment he asked to trade clothes, but that was just a minor detail.

Then—

“…”

He felt Madoka’s eyes on him from offstage. He had to fight to maintain his smile while a cold sweat began to bead on his back.

…Well, who could blame her? One minute, a surprise contestant appeared out of nowhere, and the next, it turned out to be her brother. And not just that—he was parading about as Saika Kuozaki, and the audience had totally bought into it. Sure, he was doing this to avoid a total loss, but it was only natural for her to be suspicious.

“All right! An unbelievable surprise appearance from none other than Silvelle’s beloved little sister, Li’l Saika…! And with that, our contestants’appeals are complete! We’ll now move on to the results! Everyone, please return to the stage!”

As if in sync with Silvelle’s voice echoing through the hall, the other contestants, who had retreated backstage, began filing back out into the public eye.

Which meant, of course, that Madoka would be joining them.

Indeed, she walked slowly over to Mushiki and, in a low, even tone, asked, “…What’s going on, Mushiki? I thought she was Saika Kuozaki?”

Mushiki, still grinning despite the chill coursing down his spine, shrugged off her suspicious glare with a wry smile. “It’s complicated… More importantly, you haven’t forgotten the rules we agreed to, have you? The winner of this contest also wins in your agreement.”

Even if Madoka or anyone else suspected his true identity, so long as he was in this form, he was Saika. And so, keeping his nerves in check, Mushiki responded as if he truly was her.

“…”

Madoka squinted slightly, as if trying to read his thoughts.

And then, whether she was oblivious to the tension or just ignoring it, Silvelle’s voice burst through the speakers again. “Yes, yes, I know you all want to chat, but please line up properly! Now, then… Drumroll, please!”

A rolling drumbeat filled the stage, the lights dimmed, and spotlights began to circle dramatically.

“Now then, the winner of this year’s Miss Garden Contest iiis—”

Just as Silvelle raised her hand into the air to call out the winner, a deafening alarm suddenly blared across the entire Garden.

“—.”

Caught off guard, Mushiki inhaled sharply.

A ripple of confusion swept through the contestants, the audience, everyone.

“Huh…?”

“Wh-what…? An alarm?”

“An annihilation factor?!”

Nevertheless, this was no ordinary crowd. The people here were trained mages, even the students, and so the initial panic soon gave way to battle-readiness.

But despite several mages shifting into combat mode, the source of the annihilation factor had yet to be identified. All that could be heard was the alarm screaming through the air; the enemy remained unseen.

Could it be an invisible annihilation factor? A pathogenic type? A natural disaster? Just a false alarm? Mushiki ran through every possibility, reaching for his phone to check the details—

That was when he noticed it—the sky was unusually bright.

“What…?”

Furrowing his brows at the odd glow, he looked up.

The night sky was filled with drifting embers, casting everything in an eerie red light.

The sparks whirled and spun like shooting stars—and then slowly began to coalesce, until finally, they took shape.

A towering humanoid form.

“Huh?”

An illusion filled the sky.

A night of myth had begun.

Bathed in a fiery glow like the rising sun, a flame giant descended. Everyone at the Garden could only stare in speechless awe.

Yes. A giant—there was no other word for it.

An immense humanoid mass of flame, complete with a head, torso, and long limbs—a being of impossible scale.

This super-class anomaly had appeared out of thin air.

“Is that…?” Mushiki began before stopping himself with a cough.

The temperature had spiked dramatically since the giant’s arrival. It was like he was being tossed into an oven, the air itself stinging his skin. Just standing there, he felt as though the water might start evaporating from his body.

“Lady Saika!” Kuroe, now properly dressed, came running toward him.

Squinting against the heat, Mushiki called out, “Kuroe! What is that?!”

“Annihilation Factor No. 005: Surtr,” she answered, looking up at the blood-red sky.

“A single-digit designation?! A Mythologia?!” he gasped, the name catching in his throat.

A mythic-grade annihilation factor—a Mythologia—meant one of the twelve great threats said to have appeared long ago.

These were all global-level crises, beyond the reach of any ordinary response. Only someone like Saika could face such a thing.

Kuroe nodded grimly. “Yes. A being that can scorch the earth with a single swing of its arm and evaporate lakes with each step—a miniature sun. No known weapon can harm its searing body… Simply by existing, it’s said to raise the planet’s average temperature by ten degrees. If we don’t eliminate it during the window for reversible annihilation, the consequences will be unimaginable.”

“Tch…”

Mushiki clenched his fists in frustration. “Another Mythologia… Clara must be behind this. Targeting the Garden Night Soiree of all things… She’s as tasteless as ever.”

Clara Tokishima was a mage who housed the mythic-grade annihilation factor Ouroboros.

Kuroe nodded. “Most likely. And unlike with the Leviathan, whose body was unstable, this time, the precision is clearly far higher. Could this mean—?”

But before Kuroe could finish, Madoka, still beside Mushiki, stared up at the Surtr with a frown. “…Mushiki. That thing—”

“It’s called an annihilation factor. It’s a threat to the world, and we have to take it down,” he answered solemnly, still playing the role of Saika. He raised a hand to shield her. “You need to get to safety. From here on, this is a mage’s domain.”

The moment those words left his mouth—

The Surtr threw back its mountain-sized body and let out a thunderous roar.

The sky trembled. The earth groaned. The air itself cracked.

It sounded like a cry of triumph at returning to the living world after so long—or perhaps a howl of hatred at the person who had once destroyed it.

“…”

Standing onstage, Rindoh stared up at the sky in a wide-eyed daze.

Suddenly confronted by the Surtr, a mythic-grade annihilation factor, she found herself rooted in place, forgetting even to breathe.

“You okay? Take a breath.”

“…Y-yeah,” she stammered.

Nene’s voice brought her back to herself. She inhaled sharply—her first breath in what felt like forever—and ended up coughing a little on the hot air.

That was when she noticed it. From the ground, dozens of shooting stars were rising up toward the Surtr.

Each one was a mage, dressed in glowing battle garb and summoning all kinds of magical weapons.

Most likely, they were part of the Garden’s standing defense force. Judging by the fact that they were using their third substantiations, they had to be A-rank or higher.

Right. Rindoh clenched her fists. This was Void’s Garden, the fortress of Saika Kuozaki, the strongest mage in the world, and the headquarters of anti-annihilation factor forces. On top of that, the place was currently packed with even more mages than usual. No mythic-grade annihilation factor could expect to just waltz in and—

“—.”

Yet, like a leaf in a hurricane, Rindoh’s flicker of hope was blown away by a thunderous roar.

The mages’ attacks burned up or melted away the moment they touched the Surtr’s flaming body.

No—worse. The Surtr hunched over slightly as if gathering strength, then unleashed a wave of heat that knocked the high-ranking mages from the sky like paper dolls.

“…!”

Rindoh forgot how to breathe all over again as she watched these mages, who were far more powerful than her, get swatted down like flies.

Then the Surtr slowly raised his massive arms, heat radiating off them like a furnace.

The trees around them burst into flames even without direct contact, turning the landscape a hellish crimson.

But that was just a side effect.

At the end of the Surtr’s outstretched hands, a colossal mass of fire began to form.

It was so huge that, for a moment, she couldn’t even begin to tell what it was—but then it clicked.

A sword. A ridiculously massive blade, bigger than a skyscraper.

Yes. The fire giant was about to swing that monstrous sword down on the Garden.

It was a weapon out of legend—a hammer of destruction like a falling meteor. Even with the Garden’s defenses, the school and everyone in it wouldn’t stand a chance against a hit from that thing.

“Nooo!”

Rindoh heard the faintest of cries slip from her throat, almost involuntarily.

She had always prided herself on her hatred of annihilation factors, which ran, she thought, deeper than most others’. After all, Ouroboros had turned her great-grandfather and her classmates into immortals. And then there was the Cupid, which she had faced on Nirai Island. So many deeply personal grudges. She had promised herself that if she ever ran into another Mythologia, she would throw everything she had at it.

But this was the reality.

Faced with this overwhelming despair, she couldn’t even move a muscle.

She could forget about fighting back—she couldn’t even run. That was a mythic-grade annihilation factor, a top-tier monster that only the very strongest mages could defeat.

The Surtr’s sword began its descent.

All Rindoh could do was stand there and accept death—

Or so she thought.

But then, right at that moment—

“The creation of all things. Heaven and earth alike reside in the palm of my hand.”

A clear, commanding voice rang out, slicing through her despair.

“…”

Rindoh trembled.

Right. How had she forgotten?

“Pledge obedience…”

The strongest mage in the world was right here with them.

“…For I will make of you my bride.”

The moment Mushiki spoke those words and activated his four-layered world crest, the world changed.

Transcending phenomena, past matter, beyond even assimilation—his fourth substantiation, domain.

There was only one way to stop the Surtr’s strike and protect the Garden, and this was it.

From the earth and the sky, towering skyscrapers emerged like a forest of steel fangs, blocking the sword’s descent and driving into the Surtr’s body.

But the giant’s blade still didn’t stop completely. The flames and searing heat it was composed of melted, twisted, and warped the skyscrapers, pushing ever closer to the ground.

But of course. This annihilation factor was famous for being impervious to weapons, a characteristic that made its attacks all the more terrifying.

“—!”

Mushiki smothered his panic in an instant, narrowing his gaze and making his world crest shine yet brighter.

Right now, he was Saika Kuozaki—and Saika had already defeated this annihilation factor once before.

He couldn’t afford to embarrass himself here…!

“You’re tougher than I thought… In that case, let’s try something fancier…!”

With a shout, he thrust his hands forward—and the skyscrapers began to turn white.

Saika’s fourth substantiation, Void’s Garden, could re-create any landscape on the face of the earth. The clusters of skyscrapers were just one of many options.

And so Mushiki layered a new scene over the towers: a blizzard.

Arctic winds howled through the air, while frost seeped from the towers’ windows, encasing them in ice. In seconds, those buildings became spears of frozen death.

Of course, normal ice would have been powerless against the Surtr’s inferno. And indeed, the ice melted instantly, flooding the area with white steam.

But these weren’t ordinary icicles.

Forged by Saika’s fourth substantiation, the ice spears reformed endlessly, no matter how many times they melted or shattered.

Limitless flame met infinite ice in the sky above.

Eventually, that impossible scene reached its inevitable conclusion, and dozens of ice spears pierced through the Surtr’s blade and body.

“—.”

As the giant let out a final, dying roar, the sword vanished from its hands. Its arms, until now raised in fury, dropped limply to the ground.

“…”

After confirming his foe was vanquished, Mushiki lowered his arms.

No sooner had the scenery returned to normal than he dropped to one knee.

“Lady Saika, are you all right?” Kuroe asked as she rushed over.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” he answered with a tired smile.

“I’m impressed,” she continued, her voice barely more than a whisper. “To think you could wield the fourth substantiation that well without my guidance.”

“O-of course. I am Saika Kuozaki, after all.”

Kuroe’s eyes widened briefly, and she broke into a soft smile. “Yes… Of course. Well done, Lady Saika.”

She quickly returned to her usual unreadable expression, cleared her throat, and continued in a hushed tone, “Nonetheless, we can’t let our guard down. If Clara Tokishima is involved, there may be another objective. We need to begin an immediate investi—”

Yet Kuroe stopped herself midsentence.

The reason was simple. The Surtr, which should have been dead silent, jerked back to life like a rusted machine, lifting its face and opening its mouth wide toward them.

Fire blazed once more in its eyes and throat.

“Don’t tell me it’s still alive?!”

Mushiki pulled Kuroe behind him and began to invoke his fourth substantiation once again.

But then—

“Huh…?”

He saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye. And then, from the sky, a massive flaming object plummeted down.

The earth shook with a heavy thud.

For a moment, Mushiki thought the Surtr’s attack had missed and landed nearby.

But then he saw what had actually plummeted almost directly in front of him.

“What…?”

All he could do was stare, eyes as wide as they would go.

It was the Surtr’s head—the very same that had been preparing to unleash hellfire until a moment ago.

Indeed. Mushiki had no idea what had happened, but there it was, the Mythologia’s severed head.

“What in the world…?” he muttered, stunned—when someone suddenly descended from the sky.

Landing in front of the Surtr’s still-smoking head, she slowly rose to her feet.

“…Are you all right, Mushiki?” she said, fixing him with her gloomy gaze.

“…Mado…?”

Upon recognizing her for who she was, Mushiki forgot for a moment that he was supposed to be playing the part of Saika and said her name out loud.

Yes. Standing before him, clutching a blade shimmering with a dull luster, was none other than his own sister, Madoka Kuga.

“…”

She glanced at the Surtr’s head behind her. “…That was one heck of a monster… Neck was pretty tough, too.”

Kuroe broke into a frown at those words. “Monster? Don’t tell me you’ve faced annihilation factors before?”

“…Happens all the time. Though I’ve never seen a fire giant before.” Madoka spoke like it was nothing, then pulled out a sheath from the guitar case lying on the ground and returned her sword.

She must have kept it hidden in there all along.

“…It’s been like this since forever. They always show up when I’ve got something important going on, so I just deal with them. Sometimes I even take jobs hunting them. Pays well, luckily… Normally, the monster disappears once you cut off its head, and everyone forgets it was even there. But judging by how you’re reacting, you guys still remember. Must be that magic of yours at work.”

As if on cue, the Surtr’s massive head and decapitated body began dissolving into a cloud of light, fading into thin air.

Mushiki could only look on, half stunned.

Whenever an annihilation factor was defeated during the window for reversible annihilation, it would disappear from the world without leaving so much as a corpse.

No, more than that—all the damage and evidence it caused would vanish as well. Even the memory of its existence would be wiped from people’s minds.

Such was the world system governed by Saika Kuozaki, created to maintain this meticulously reconstructed second Earth.

In order for it all to work, mages had to exist outside of its protections.

They were the world’s hidden guardians, wielding the miracle of magic to defeat annihilation factors—and to remember them.

That was how Kuroe—Saika—had explained it to him not too long ago.

…But if that was true, then how did that explain Madoka?

As Mushiki stood there frozen in confusion and dread, Kuroe quietly spoke up. “It’s true. Normal humans can’t retain memories of annihilation factors defeated within the window for reversible annihilation. But there is one exception.”

“An exception…?”

“Yes. And the condition is very simple… You have to be capable of defeating one.”

“…”

Bringing down an annihilation factor, not as a mage, but as a regular human being—even someone like Mushiki, who was still new to the world of magic, could tell just how insane that was.

“…This world is Saika Kuozaki’s fifth substantiation,” Kuroe continued in little more than a whisper. “Think of it as one massive substantiation… That’s why, though it’s extremely rare, anomalies are sometimes born from the system itself. Beings that are more than human.”

“What…?” Mushiki gasped before he could stop himself.

Meanwhile, whether she was listening to the two of them or not, Madoka was murmuring something to herself.

“…Honestly, I wasn’t sure whether to believe it. But it looks like the story about Saika Kuozaki forcing kids into battle is true.” As if questioning herself, she tilted her head slightly and returned her gaze to Mushiki. “I don’t get it. Everything about you screams Mushiki, and yet you’ve the body of a girl. And everyone’s calling you Saika Kuozaki.” Her gaze shifted to Kuroe. “But then again, you—also Saika Kuozaki—don’t seem to be lying, either…” Madoka narrowed her melancholy, crescent-moon-shaped eyes. “I’m guessing the body originally belonged to you?”

“…”

Kuroe sucked in a tiny breath.

Madoka exhaled softly, seemingly satisfied. “…So I was right. I don’t know why you’re in this situation, but Mushiki is my little brother. I’m not letting some twisted witch do whatever she wants with him.”

With that, she reached out toward him. “…Let’s go home, Mushiki. You don’t belong here.”

But Mushiki—still wearing Saika’s face and speaking with her voice—shook his head. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. I’m Saika Kuozaki, headmistress of Void’s Garden.”

“…I see. That’s a shame.”

Madoka exhaled through her nose and settled into a low stance.

Then she calmly drew her blade and readied it in her hands.

“…In that case, I’ll have to take you back by force.”

In that instant—

“…!”

A jolt of dread shot through Mushiki’s entire body.

It was a feeling he had experienced more than once since entering the Garden: primal fear. A visceral certainty that if he let down his guard, his head would come flying off the next second.

Incredibly, he now felt more at risk standing in front of Madoka—a human—than he ever had facing any annihilation factor.

He finally knew, in his gut, what Kuroe had meant earlier.

There was no room for hesitation. No time to pull punches. His tongue moved on its own, almost unconsciously.

“The creation of all things—”

“…”

But before he could even finish the chant—

Before the magic could course through his body—

The reaper’s scythe was already at his throat.

“…”

Not a sound escaped.

Madoka, who just a moment ago had been at least ten meters away, was now right in front of his eyes.

Saika Kuozaki, the most powerful mage in the world. If someone was to take her down, how could they do it?

It was a question everyone at the Garden—no, every mage the world over—must have asked at least once.

Mushiki was no different. He had wondered it himself, even if doing so felt disrespectful. After all, considering the possibility was key to protecting both Saika and himself.

And the conclusion he had come to was, broadly, twofold.

First—overpower her with brute magical force, using abilities stronger than her own.

It was a ridiculous thought, to be sure. People would laugh if you said it seriously. But Mushiki had once seen it with his own eyes, so he couldn’t rule it out.

And second—

That was now unfolding right before him, in the most undeniable of ways.

Saika’s techniques were overwhelming, especially once she invoked her fourth substantiation. At that point, the battle was already decided.

But in that case, the solution was simple: Take her out before she could cast anything.

It was a straightforward, brutally effective approach. Of course, it came with a huge asterisk: You had to actually be able to pull it off.

“…!”

With a high-pitched clash, the moment—one that had seemed to stretch into eternity—finally ended.

Mushiki blinked, drenched in sweat.

His brain was spinning in confusion. He could feel Madoka’s blade touching his neck. And yet, somehow, he was still conscious…

“…That won’t do, Sister-in-law.”

The answer came in a low voice.

Kuroe, her world crest glowing on her neck and hands, had blocked Madoka’s blade with a strangely shaped iron staff.

“Kuroe…?” he whispered.

She gave him a slight nod before addressing Madoka. “Tradition dictates the bride should fight the sister-in-law.”

Chapter 5: Feel Free to Declare Your Love

“Huh…?”

From the half-ruined audience seating, Ruri watched dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open.

And who could blame her? After all, Madoka had just appeared out of nowhere and sliced off the head of a gigantic annihilation factor.

She broke into a grimace. It didn’t make sense. Sure, she and Madoka hadn’t spent much time together, but one thing she knew for sure was that her sister wasn’t a mage.

But that only made what she was now witnessing all the more absurd. How in the world could a normal person take down an annihilation factor with a single sword slash?

“Ruri!”

“What happened here?”

Two voices called out simultaneously as she stood there frozen in thought.

She turned around and saw Ao, flanked by the Azures, and Erulka approaching from different directions.

The moment the two women noticed each other, they locked eyes, both raising their brows in surprise.

“Well, well, Erulka. Long time no see. Still wearing that ridiculous outfit, I see.”

“…Ao? You’re hardly one to talk about fashion.” Erulka snorted at Ao’s jab, then turned back to Ruri. “Anyway, what happened? I thought Saika brought down that annihilation factor?”

“Th-that’s the thing…”

Ruri wiped the sweat from her forehead and quickly explained what she had just witnessed.

Erulka’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “No magic at all…? And she still defeated it?”

“Yes… At least, that’s how it looked to me… But is something like that even possible?”

Erulka paused, thinking it over. An instant later, her shoulders jolted as realization struck. “It can’t be… A transcendent?!”

“What…?!” Ao sucked in her breath, staring at Madoka like she had just seen the impossible.

Their reactions only deepened Ruri’s confusion.

“A transcendent…? What’s that?”

“It’s no surprise you’ve never heard of them. In all these centuries, I’ve only seen one with my own eyes… They’re special anomalies born from a glitch in the world system. Humans who surpass humanity. A transcendent is someone who is always walking hand in hand with death in order to maintain the balance of the world… If Saika is the strongest mage, then she would be”—Erulka’s eyes caught the light with a sharp glint—“the strongest human.”

Mushiki stared at the scene before him, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his chest. Shallow breaths slipped from his throat, and a few strands of hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, damp with sweat.

There was no need to think about why his heart was racing.

Obviously, he owed a portion of his agitation to Madoka cornering him and making him feel genuinely on the brink of death. Maybe if he had stopped and thought rationally, he would have realized she’d probably had no real intention of killing him—but the intensity of her aura was more than enough to make his instincts scream otherwise.

And the other reason—

“…”

—was that Kuroe, who had stepped between him and danger, was utterly breathtaking.

This was her third manifestation, assimilation, a substantiation technique that a mage fused to one’s own body. True to her name, she wore a jet-black dress that shimmered like the oiled wings of a raven under the glow of magical light, radiating a mesmerizing sheen.

In her hand, she held an iron staff—likely her second substantiation. The grotesque, clawlike head at the top looked like some merciless torture device, and yet there was something hauntingly surreal about it.

Circular world crests bloomed around her like shackles at her neck and wrists, forming intricate rings of light.

Every aspect of her appearance combined into a stunningly beautiful and otherworldly whole.

“…”

No. Mushiki’s breath caught as he tried to dispel the thought.

It was true that he had never seen her second or third substantiations before, and it would be a lie to say she didn’t look amazing.

But what truly left him breathless wasn’t just the surface-level beauty—it was the bravery of someone who had put herself between him and danger without a moment’s hesitation.

It was her poised grace that never faltered, even on the battlefield.

And it was her cool, clear eyes full of unwavering resolve.

Regardless of how her appearance had changed, the nobility that radiated from Kuroe’s entire being could only belong to one person: Saika Kuozaki, the Witch of Resplendent Color.

She was like a goddess descending to the earth—

…Please don’t think too loudly, Mushiki. I can hear all of it, a voice echoed in his mind.

Oh.

He hurried to shut down his thoughts. It wasn’t that he minded her overhearing them; rather, he didn’t want to distract her at this critical juncture.

Kuroe was still focused on Madoka. Her expression was composed, but if Mushiki wasn’t mistaken, her cheeks looked just a little flushed.

As if on cue, Madoka leaped backward, glaring suspiciously at her blade, which Kuroe had just intercepted with her staff.

“…That felt strange. For a moment, my sword stopped moving.” She fixed Kuroe with a sharp glare. “What did you do? Don’t tell me you blocked my strike with those skinny arms of yours?”

“Who knows? Let me ask you something: Do you realize what it means to raise your weapon against Lady Saika? Whatever your reasons, you do recognize this person as Mushiki, don’t you? Were you really trying to kill him?”

“…Of course not,” Madoka replied curtly. Then in one smooth motion, she drew her blade across her own neck.

“What—?”

“…”

Mushiki and Kuroe both gasped in shock.

But no blood spattered. In fact, there wasn’t even a scratch on her.

“…As you can see, this sword can’t cut anything. It’s basically just a sturdy replica,” she said, raising the dull-colored blade for them both to see.

“…You must be joking,” Kuroe muttered with a grim look. “No mere replica, regardless of toughness, could possibly kill an annihilation factor. Especially not the Surtr. The fact that your blade survived contact without even a scorch mark is already abnormal—”

But she stopped there, as if a possibility had just fallen into place.

“Kuroe?” Mushiki asked tentatively.

A bead of sweat slid down her cheek as she murmured, “Don’t tell me… Number 118, the Nameless Blade…?”

“What’s that?” Mushiki whispered, leaning in.

“…A sword crafted by the legendary mage-smith and swordmaker Kempoh Taima. It’s known as the weakest of all his creations.”

“The weakest one…?” he repeated, puzzled.

Kuroe nodded slightly. “Exactly as it sounds. It’s said that this sword could never cut anything. Not because it was blunt or dull, but because it was enchanted with a third-generation composition formula, engraved right into the blade’s tang, to make it incapable of cutting anything at all.”

“Huh… Why make something like that?”

“…Because in magic, there’s a long-standing concept of exchange. Essentially, you offer up something in order to gain something else. And the greater the offering—especially if it’s something important—the greater the return.”

“And what was the return in this case?”

Kuroe’s brow was damp as she answered. “An indestructible blade. In exchange for being unable to cut anything, it was granted the quality of never breaking, no matter what it struck.”

“…I see.” Mushiki nodded.

Madoka, having overheard all this, eyed the sword with renewed interest, examining it closely. “…So this thing was magical after all. No wonder it has held up.”

“You didn’t know?”

“…No. I was struggling to find a weapon that wouldn’t shatter when I used it, and a friend handed this to me. Haven’t had to do much maintenance on it, either. It’s been a great help.”

Her laid-back tone had Mushiki swallowing hard.

The reason was simple. Now that the sword’s true nature was known, the scene he had witnessed earlier took on a terrifying new context.

If Kuroe’s guess was right, then it made sense Madoka’s blade had been able to survive contact with the Surtr’s body.

But it also meant one other thing.

“…She decapitated the Surtr with a sword that can’t cut?”

“…Yes. That’s what it looks like.”

“How?”

“Most likely through sheer brute force. She probably just crushed its neck with raw strength.”

“That’s insane,” Mushiki muttered in disbelief.

Madoka gave her head a small shake, then shot Kuroe a sharp look. “…You’re not wrong. I must be pretty strong. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for a fight. If you could just hand over Mushiki quietly, we can all avoid unnecessary trouble.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Mushiki is vital to the Garden—” Kuroe paused, shaking her head. “No… He’s important to me.”

“Kuroe…?”

He knew it was just a line to fend off Madoka, but her words shot through his heart. He rested a hand on his chest, savoring their glow.

But that warmth lingered for only the briefest of moments.

“…I see. That’s a shame,” Madoka answered—and with that, she vanished.

The next instant, a thunderous, metallic crash rang out.

“Gah…?!”

Mushiki winced, tensing from the sudden shock.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell what had happened, but he quickly figured it out.

In less time than it took to blink, Madoka had lunged in to strike—but Kuroe had intercepted the blow once again.

Faster than the eye could follow. No, faster than thought itself. If Kuroe hadn’t been there, he would have hit the ground and been knocked unconscious or worse.

Madoka seemed just as surprised. For once, her eyes widened slightly in shock.

“…Impressive. I didn’t expect you to block my sword not once but twice.”

“I’m honored. Though I must say, your form was impressive as well,” Kuroe said, holding her iron staff firm against Madoka’s indestructible blade.

That cool reply clearly struck a nerve, as Madoka narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

“…I’m not trying to kill you. But if you insist on getting in my way, you’re going to regret it,” she murmured, tightening her grip on the hilt of her blade.

Kuroe’s expression darkened. “Lady Saika. Please step back.”

“But—”

“Something tells me this dance won’t be particularly graceful.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than an iron whirlwind exploded around the two combatants.

Mushiki winced, staggering backward from the shock.

“Ngh…!”

There wasn’t anything especially elaborate about what they were doing. Madoka unleashed strike after strike, and Kuroe blocked, deflected, or slipped past each one.

But the speed and sheer power behind them were monstrous.

It was like standing in the middle of a storm of metal and fire—get too close, and you would be torn to shreds in an instant.

From the heart of that tempest, beneath the ringing of metal on metal, Madoka’s voice rang out, half amazed, half admiring. “…You’re actually keeping up. No human or monster has ever managed to fend off my blade like this. You have my respect.”

“I…am…honored…to hear it—”

“…But it’s still not enough to reach me.”

“—.”

The next moment—

Madoka lunged with all her strength. This time, her strike broke through Kuroe’s guard, slicing across her torso in a brutal diagonal arc.

“Ugh… Ngh…” Kuroe grunted as she was lifted off the ground and sent flying.

Madoka’s attack didn’t spill any blood—likely because of the blade’s unique properties—but the blow was strong enough to rip through even the third substantiation clad around Kuroe’s body, exposing pale skin at her chest and stomach.

Kuroe arced through the air, crashing into the ground hard on her back. The world crests on her neck and wrists vanished, her clothes returning to their ordinary form.

“Kuroe!” Mushiki cried out, rushing to her side.

“Lady…Saika…”

She tried to speak, but before she could say anything more, her eyes slid shut and she went limp.

Madoka let out a slow breath, lowering her sword. “…It’s over. You fought well. But a promise is a promise—I’m taking Mushiki back with—”

However—

“…”

Madoka suddenly tensed, eyes widening, and swung her sword upward.

Again, a sharp metallic clang rang out.

“Huh…?”

It took Mushiki a moment to recognize it for what it was.

Someone had appeared behind Madoka after she had let her guard down and launched a sneak attack.

The ambusher’s strike had been blocked, but instead of frustration, their voice carried a note of admiration.

“Even after thinking the fight was won, you still blocked me. I’m impressed, Sister-in-law.”

“…What?” Madoka turned around, frowning in confusion as she looked at the person behind her.

She had every reason to be confused. After all, standing there was none other than—

“The Garden is a cage of illusions, after all. Let your guard down and anything can happen.”

—Kuroe Karasuma, the very person she had just defeated.

“…Impossible. My strike landed. Even if it didn’t kill you, you should barely be able to breathe, let alone sneak up behind me.”

Yet Madoka stopped short.

Because in front of her—where Mushiki had collapsed to his knees—Kuroe’s body was still lying there, unmoving.

Yes. The girl who had appeared behind her, fully clad in her second and third substantiations, was another Kuroe.

“…What is this? Twins? No, that doesn’t seem right…”

“I’d be happy to explain if you would give your blessing for Mushiki and me to be together.”

“…Don’t be absurd.” Madoka’s scowl deepened. With a snap of her wrist, she slashed at her opponent.

Kuroe parried, and the second round began.

Once again, they clashed at breakneck speed, tearing across the festive Garden grounds like two living storms. The force of their battle sent vendor stalls flying, and students scrambled in all directions to avoid getting caught up in the chaos.

“—.”

“Ngh…!”

But even the new Kuroe couldn’t hold out. Overwhelmed by Madoka’s sheer strength, she was soon struck full-force by a slash that sent her tumbling across the ground.

“Kuroe—”

Mushiki barely had time to call her name when another figure leaped from the rooftop behind Madoka, third substantiation fully active and iron staff at the ready.

“…”

“…From above, huh?”

This time, Madoka had anticipated the possibility of another ambush. She looked up calmly and prepared to meet her attacker in midair.

And yet—

“That, too…”

“…was within…”

“…my calculations.”

The voices came from all directions.

A dense curtain of dust was torn apart as three more Kuroes emerged—numbers four, five, and six.

“…What…?”

Even Madoka was caught off guard now. Her eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath.

The three Kuroes on the ground moved without hesitation, taking advantage of that brief moment of distraction to swing their iron staffs and strike.

Above and on every side—an inescapable, coordinated attack closed in on Madoka.

“…Tch…” With a click of her tongue, Madoka crouched low, then exploded upward.

She twisted in midair to dodge the strike from the Kuroe above her by the narrowest of margins, then slammed her sword hilt into her gut.

“…?!”

The airborne Kuroe let out a breathless grunt as she fell from the sky, right toward the others on the ground. Instinctively, they paused to catch their falling other self, momentarily halting their assault.

“Hmm…”

Madoka wasn’t the type to let that opening go to waste. She launched herself off a nearby wall, flipped in midair, and came crashing down, swiftly knocking unconscious all three Kuroes with a flurry of precise, dazzling strikes.

“…They’re no illusion. These bodies are real. But they’re too identical to be separate people. How can there be this many of the same person?”

She looked down at the fallen Kuroes, her brow furrowed in unease.

But then, with a short breath, her gaze sharpened.

“…Still, that’s all it is. Numbers alone won’t change anything. If this is your trump card, I’m disappointed.”

Yet just as she finished speaking—

“Now, then…”

“Let’s see about that.”

“Yes, your physical prowess is nothing short of amazing.”

“I still can’t believe you took down an annihilation factor with your bare hands.”

“But maybe you’re underestimating what sheer numbers can do?”

From the dust clouds. From the shadows of buildings. From the wreckage of stalls. From between the scattering students.

Ten… Fifty… A hundred—

A flood of Kuroes emerged, surrounding Madoka on all sides.

“…What in the world…?” Madoka murmured, her face twisting in a scowl.

To be fair, she had every right to react that way. It was an unbelievable sight, far beyond the realm of anything that should have been possible in real life. Indeed, it was more like something ripped straight from a nightmare.

Despite that, however, Mushiki found himself oddly calm. The reason was simple. He had a hunch as to what was behind this surreal scene.

“Are those…homunculi?”

“…Precisely…” The Kuroe in his arms—the original, the one whom Madoka had taken down—coughed weakly.

“A-are you okay, Kuroe?”

“…Yes. Perfectly fine. Aside from the shattered rib cage.”

Mushiki grimaced. “That sounds like the opposite of fine.”

Kuroe, however, didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. “Just as you suspected, these are experimental humanoid bodies, spares for Kuroe Karasuma that are usually stored in the Kuozaki mansion’s underground lab. I’m piloting them simultaneously. There’s a bit of variation in how each unit moves, of course, but they’re all acting under a single will. A deathless army with perfect coordination.” She paused there, flashing him a rare smirk. “Let’s show your sister that the strongest doesn’t always come out on top.”

“—!”

A swarm of homunculi lunged at Madoka.

Controlling hundreds of bodies simultaneously, Kuroe watched the scene unfold from countless synchronized perspectives.

Normally, one soul was possessed of a single body. For an ordinary person, controlling even two bodies at once would have been impossible.

The soul inhabiting these artificial bodies, however, belonged to the world’s foremost sorceress—at least in terms of magical engineering. And so, the many Kuroe Karasuma units moved as one, functioning like an impossible army under a single will.

And that wasn’t all. Every Kuroe on the Garden grounds bore her glowing three-layered world crest.

This was her first substantiation, Eye of Inquiry, a continuous spell that detected the faintest muscular twitches, predicting Madoka’s movements before they happened.

But of course, even that wasn’t enough to handle the woman’s blinding speed.

Then came Kuroe’s second substantiation, Fangs of Truth. This one bound and restricted opponents based on specific triggers. Kuroe used her first substantiation to determine Madoka’s key movements, then struck with the second to limit her mobility.

Lastly, her third substantiation, Raiment of the Black Crow, stripped Kuroe of any sensation of physical pain. By combining that with enhancement magic that disregarded her physical limits, she allowed the homunculi to move and react faster than any human ever could.

This wasn’t a technique anyone should have been able to emulate. Even if Kuroe had still been teaching, she would have never passed this on to students, no matter the stakes. The toll on the body was far too severe.

Only two types of people could use this strategy: someone who didn’t care if they died today, or someone who had extra bodies to spare.

Right. By exploiting both the unique traits of the Kuroe Karasuma homunculi and the full extent of their inscribed composition formulas, she had become something beyond human.

But even so—

“Ghhh—!”

Her breath caught as she blocked a blow like a crashing meteor.

With her Eye of Inquiry active, Kuroe could now see clearly that Madoka’s body was simply inhuman.

Muscles and bones compressed to their absolute limit, a density that belied her frame—the woman had to weigh over two hundred kilograms. Organs and sensory systems that surpassed anything natural. A nervous system so refined that it allowed instantaneous reaction.

She was, in essence, the perfected form of the human ideal, a bug in the system so complete, it could only be divine—or monstrous.

This wasn’t a battle between mages, or even a clash with an annihilation-factor-level threat. It was pure combat in its rawest form.

No powers. No spells. Just speed and strength.

Those elements alone were enough for Madoka to overwhelm Kuroe.

“…Hmph. I don’t know what kind of trick this is, but it’s a real pain,” Madoka muttered after taking down yet another homunculus. “Still, you’re not much like the rumors. They didn’t say anything about you splitting into copies, for starters.”

Kuroe raised an eyebrow at that last remark. “You’ve heard of Lady Saika before?”

“…Just rumors. The Azamura elders—those hermits up in the mountains—asked me to kill you. Sounded like they really hate you. Claimed you did some pretty awful stuff.”

“Azamura…” Kuroe paused for a moment, then nodded. “Ah, them. A rogue mage clan. They picked a fight with Lady Saika about a hundred years ago and got wiped out. I knew a few survived, but I didn’t think they would still be holding a grudge.” Her expression tightened slightly. “And you of all people let them rope you in? If that’s the case, I can’t help being a little disappointed.”

“…I never accepted the job,” Madoka said flatly.

“Is that so?”

“…I’m not about to take a bunch of bitter old men at their word. People who hire others to kill aren’t exactly trustworthy.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Kuroe said with an exaggerated nod.

But Madoka wasn’t done.

“…Still, you’re also lying. Even now, you’re hiding your true self. How am I supposed to trust you? How could I ever leave my little brother in the hands of someone like that?”

“…”

Kuroe flinched. Both Mushiki and Ruri had warned her of Madoka’s uncannily sharp instincts. And it made sense why. The Eye of Inquiry made it clear to Kuroe that her opponent’s senses were extraordinary. Madoka probably picked up on every subtle twitch, every stray word, without even realizing.

No wonder she had sensed something off. After all, Kuroe wasn’t even a real person—just a shell of someone who didn’t truly exist.

“…”

She scanned her surroundings through multiple pairs of eyes.

No one else was around. Between the annihilation factor threat and their own clash, the area had effectively cleared out. It was safe to talk, for now.

Kuroe, having made that judgment, lowered her gaze for a moment and exhaled softly.

Then she looked up, like a switch had been flipped in her mind.

“…Forgive me. There are circumstances I couldn’t explain before. You’re right—I was dishonest. So, from here on out, I swear to speak nothing but the truth.”

“…Oh?”

Madoka raised an eyebrow as Kuroe—or rather, Saika—spoke in her true voice for the first time.

“…You’ve changed. But you’re not putting on a front anymore. So this is the real you…? Took you long enough, Saika Kuozaki.”

“Yes. Apologies for the late introduction, Madoka Kuga.”

Saika lifted her iron staff to the side—just in time to intercept Madoka’s sword, which slammed into it with bone-jarring force. Despite her third substantiation, the blow did a number on her arm. If not for the pain-nullifying effect, she would have been drenched in sweat.

“Well now, that’s quite the greeting.”

“…Hmph. Don’t pretend you weren’t about to strike me from behind the moment I let my guard down.”

“Oh? I wonder what you mean?” Saika broke off with a wry smile. “Apologies again. I did just promise not to lie, didn’t I?”

“…Funny. Now that I see your real self, you seem even less trustworthy.”

“Ha-ha. Sorry. Some habits die hard.”

Madoka stepped in again, bringing her weapon around with all her might.

It was too much to block. Saika let the blow carry her into the air, deliberately flinging herself backward.

At the same time, she switched main bodies. Though she controlled hundreds at once, having a primary made coordination easier.

“Getting a bit rough, aren’t we? Don’t tell me you want to keep going like this?” she called out from behind.

Madoka turned to face her. “…I can learn more about you this way. Or do mages need to sit down to have a conversation?”

And with that—

“—!”

Madoka lashed out abruptly, blade aimed straight at the new primary body.

But Saika, having foreseen this with her Eye of Inquiry, directed her other units to move in and intercept.

Unbreakable sword met the nullifying staff, clashing over and over in a blur of motion.

“…Let me ask you again,” Madoka murmured in the midst of the flurry, staring deep into Saika’s eyes. “About you and Mushiki.”

“Seriously? You want to talk now?” Saika couldn’t help but twist her lips in a crooked grin.

That said, she wasn’t annoyed. In fact, there was something thrilling about this bizarre exchange.

“Madoka Kuga,” she answered, squinting slightly and parrying yet another slash. “I must ask you to keep what I’m about to tell you to yourself. I share it with you out of the deepest respect.”

“I swear,” Madoka answered without so much as a flicker of hesitation.

They were just words, but for whatever reason, Saika knew this woman wasn’t the kind to break her promises.

“You were right—this body isn’t mine. The one Mushiki is in now—that’s my original one. I was dying, and in order to save us both, we had to fuse. Since then, Mushiki has been living both as himself and as me.”

“…I see. I don’t understand how it’s feasible, but I think I can grasp the idea.” Madoka nodded. “Is it possible to separate the two of you?”

“It’s not impossible—but it’s not simple, either. I’m afraid the reality of the situation is that it’s not something we can do right away… And though I hate to say it, I’m one of the most important figures in the magical world. If I die, the world goes with me. I’m not exaggerating. I think you can tell I’m speaking the truth.”

“…”

Madoka’s expression tightened. She could no doubt feel it—Saika meant every word.

Saika took a hit and switched to another body, lunging toward Madoka with her staff as she strained her voice. “That’s why I can’t afford to lose Mushiki! Because he has my body!”

“…”

But Madoka rotated her own body like a spinning top, cutting down both front and rear units in a single motion.

“Ugh…!”

The primary body slammed into a wall. There was no pain, but something definitely broke. Saika abandoned that unit, trying to shift her focus to another—

But before she could, Madoka’s sword was already inches from her cheek, like it was trying to pin down her very soul.

“—.” Saika’s breath caught in her throat.

Madoka leaned in, her low voice almost a groan. “…That doesn’t matter.”

“Wh-what do you mean it doesn’t matter…?” Saika blinked in disbelief at this unexpected response.

But that was only natural. After all, Madoka had just brushed off the fate of the world like it was nothing.

To Saika, who had spent her entire existence safeguarding that world, there were few insults more profound.

And yet, maybe because Madoka’s declaration was so abrupt and lacking in malice, she was too stunned to feel angry.

Madoka moved in even closer, looking Saika straight in the eye. “…So tell me—do you love Mushiki?”

That question.

“Ah…”

Saika’s mouth fell open in shock.

Madoka’s tone, however, was deadly serious. “…Earlier, you said you wanted to marry him. But that was just a convenient excuse to convince me, wasn’t it? Now that the mask’s off, I want to hear the truth.”

“Of all the things you could have come out with…”

She was asking that? Whether she loved Mushiki?

Saika chewed on the thought. If they were talking like-or-dislike, then she obviously liked him. But Madoka wasn’t talking about general appreciation. She meant something else entirely—romance, affection, that sort of thing.

It was a simple question. And yet, for Saika, it was one of the hardest things to answer.

For five hundred years—ever since she’d first tapped into the secrets of magic and had shaped a fifth substantiation, world—

Since transcending humanity and ascending to the throne of the World King—

She had been incapable of holding special feelings for any single individual, though she held a deeper love for humanity than anyone alive.

It probably didn’t help that, thanks to magic, she was free from the chains of aging and mortality. When faced with death, living beings were driven by instinct to preserve the species. But when the body could stay young and healthy indefinitely, the natural urge to pass on one’s genes began to fade.

And though perhaps this was inevitable, no one in this world had ever tried to court Saika Kuozaki, the being who had become a monolithic presence to all mages.

Yes. No one except for this boy she had met on the edge of death.

Mushiki. Mushiki Kuga. Thinking back, she realized he had been full of surprises from the start. Yes, him being Ruri’s brother was one thing, and yes, he had a rare magical talent—but more than that, it was his sheer unorthodoxy as a person.

He was literally on the verge of death, fused with a total stranger, and somehow, still, all he could think about was her.

And the truth was, there had been more than a few times she wouldn’t have been able to make it through without him.

His sharp eye for her behavior—his ability to give a perfect performance, albeit only when it came to imitating her—had gotten them through countless close calls. His spells, which had bloomed in battle, had carved paths forward more than once.

No, it wasn’t just that. His constant optimism—one could perhaps say he was focused solely on her—had given her strength more times than she could count.

And then—

“…What’s the matter? It wasn’t that tough of a question, was it?” Madoka tilted her head to the side as she watched Saika wrestle with a whirlwind of thoughts.

Sweat beaded on Saika’s forehead. “That’s… Um…,” she tried to answer, almost in a groan.

“…Yes?” Madoka urged her to continue.

Slowly, Saika pulled her tangled emotions into something that resembled coherence. “Mushiki asked me to give him the right to propose to me when the two of us are separated into our original bodies again. When he said that…I think I got a little fluttery. And for that to happen to me, the keeper of the world…”

She trailed on, bit by bit.

It was like she was finally putting a name to those vague, drifting feelings that had been sitting in the back of her mind for who knew how long.

It felt almost like the kind of ritual where you gave a moniker to a formless spirit, defining its shape so you could subdue it.

“…He’s such a strange person. Even when he’s backed into a corner, he acts so carefree. It’s like all he ever thinks about is me. Sometimes I seriously wonder if he’s okay in the head… But then again, it’s not like I can pretend I haven’t been saved by that strangeness of his… No matter what happens—even if things go exactly the way she predicted back then, and the world ends—I can’t help but believe Mushiki will still be thinking about me… It doesn’t make sense. But I truly believe that… And maybe I don’t hate that idea as much as I thought I would.”

Because that would mean that, even if all of humanity were drowning in despair, Mushiki would still be dreaming of a brighter future.

…Even if that future was, admittedly, a little warped.

And then a question rose quietly in her mind.

What if Mushiki stopped liking her? What if he lost interest?

It was so ridiculous that she almost laughed. Mushiki? Mushiki Kuga might stop caring about her? Not in a million years.

If something like that ever happened, it would probably be because he died… Then again, knowing him, even if he did die, he would probably stick around as a ghost or some kind of thought-form, haunting the living just to gush about how amazing she was.

“…Well, you know…” She let out a quiet breath, amused by her ludicrous thoughts.

Madoka tilted her head again, curious. “…Know what?”

“He’s always saying how he only has eyes for me, but then he goes and acts all nice to other girls, and he gets flustered around them, too. Don’t you think that’s a bit off?”

“…Maybe. But isn’t it precisely because he chooses just one person that his feelings have value?”

“That may be true, but—” Saika started to say something, when Madoka cut her off with a strange look.

“Are you jealous?”

“Excuse me? Don’t be ridiculous. Do you even know who I—?”

But she stopped herself there.

Her first instinct was to deny the question. The moment she looked at herself from a distance, however, the moment she paused to carefully scrutinize her own thoughts, her behavior—it was hard to call it anything but that.

A younger man liked her, and she didn’t mind it one bit.

She knew there was no way he would ever hate her, and for no real reason at all.

But when he started getting close to other girls, it would inevitably bug her.

That was precisely it.

In the end, she was no different from all the foolish, lovable humans she had watched over for centuries.

“…Wait. Hold on…” Her eyes went wide as the realization hit her, her voice barely above a whisper.

“…Is this love?”

“Ugh…!”

Mushiki—wearing Saika’s face—knelt beside a battered Kuroe homunculus, grimacing in pain.

The battlefield was now shrouded in a swarm of Kuroes, making it impossible for him to get a clear read on the situation. But from the occasional thunderous crash and the sight of homunculi being hurled through the air, it was clear that Kuroe and Madoka were still locked in combat.

In terms of sheer numbers, the army of Kuroes should have had the upper hand, but Mushiki couldn’t imagine Madoka losing. Not even a little.

“…”

That split-second exchange earlier flashed through his mind—the moment he had seen Madoka in action.

She had pulled off the theoretical best-case scenario for fighting a mage—something that existed only in textbooks—and made it real. Her physical ability bordered on the absurd. Even with Saika’s power behind them, those homunculi were no match. It didn’t matter how many she threw at her.

Though it might have been different if Saika had been fighting in her true body and could access her fourth substantiation…

“Ah…”

A shallow gasp escaped Mushiki’s lips.

Wait. That was it. Right now, with Madoka surrounded by swarms of Kuroe homunculi, he might just have a chance to activate Saika’s fourth substantiation. Even if his sister noticed what he was doing, the homunculi could buy him enough time to complete the invocation.

Once activated, Saika’s fourth substantiation was absolute. Unbeatable.

If he could just pull it off, even Madoka would—

“…No…”

He bit his lip.

He had almost let himself get swept away by the sheer force of his sister’s fighting prowess, but defeating her wasn’t the point. That wasn’t why he was here.

His real goal was to get her to accept the idea of him staying at the Garden. And—though this might have been jumping the gun a little—to acknowledge his relationship with Saika.

That was precisely why it was so difficult. No matter how he tried to explain, getting her to understand how he felt was going to be nearly impossible.

But then—

…Wait… Is this…?

Out of nowhere, fragmented words echoed through his mind. Mushiki’s brow twitched.

Telepathy. Faint and garbled, like picking up a cross-wired phone call, but unmistakably real. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been meant to be sent. The emotions behind it were simply so strong that they had leaked out unintentionally.

“…Kuroe? Did you just say something?”

“…”

The primary homunculi jolted, eyes flying wide in a rare flash of surprise. Followed by—

Icing power—activate! Defeat the Habanero Army! Go, Cupcake Man!

An unreal vision flooded Mushiki’s mind: a superhero with a cupcake for a head, complete with an upbeat theme song.

It was as if Kuroe was deliberately filling her thoughts with nonsense to keep him from reading anything serious.

“…What was that? I’ve got some really weird images in my head now…”

He pressed a hand to his temple, trying banish the vision. For her part, the battle-focused Kuroe barely moved her lips as she murmured, “Please don’t talk to me out of nowhere like that. You startled me.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

He was a little thrown by how uncharacteristically curt she was, but he offered an honest apology.

Kuroe, clearly flustered, turned her face away. “Also, you’re standing too close. Could you please back up a bit?”

“Is something wrong, Kuroe…?”

“What? Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Are you trying to brag about being observant or something?”

“No…” He scratched at his cheek, starting to sweat a little—

“…”

And then his breath caught in his throat as a sudden possibility flashed through his mind.

“…I see. It could work…”

“What is it?” Kuroe asked, curiosity piqued.

Mushiki locked eyes with her. “I’ve got a favor to ask. Actually—”

As he described his flash of inspiration, Kuroe’s eyes shot open in disbelief.

“…You’re serious?” she asked with more than a hint of suspicion.

But just as he was about to double down—

“Anyone else would no doubt say no.”

Those unexpected words made him light up.

“Kuroe…?”

“I really don’t like this… But it might be worth a try.”

“…”

Despite holding her sword at the ready, Madoka Kuga stood engrossed, watching the scene before her.

But that was only natural.

“I—wait, wait, hang on. No. That can’t be right.”

The ever-calm and haughty Madam Witch, Saika Kuozaki, was now flustered, visibly panicking.

Frankly, she looked less like the world’s most powerful mage and more like a teenager realizing she had a crush for the first time.

“No. No way. I mean, come on. I’m a witch. I’m the type to use people for my own goals, to play them like pawns. Just because some cute younger guy keeps telling me he likes me—what, I’m supposed to just melt? Please. I’m not that easy. And anyway, he’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

“…That’s a pretty rude way to talk about someone’s little brother.”

“I mean, he literally made a trading card game about me without my permission…”

“…That is kind of creepy.”

“Right? I mean—well, maybe creepy is a little harsh…”

“…So which is it?” Madoka frowned.

Saika, however, kept on muttering to herself, lost in thought. “Like, what if—just what if, okay?—this warm, fuzzy feeling really is that? Then the first time he underwent a state change, and that time he asked for the right to propose, all of that… It would all kind of track, right…? No. It’s impossible. Getting involved with your apprentice is the cringiest witch move there is. I mean, after living for hundreds of years? You’d think I’d be past petty human emotions. I don’t want people measuring me by normal standards, you know?”

“…So what you’re saying is you have absolutely no romantic feelings for him, and you were just using his feelings to your advantage?”

“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying!”

“…That’s pretty messed up,” Madoka pointed out bluntly.

“…Yes, you’re right.” Saika groaned with a pained look.

This woman had turned out to be much more entertaining than Madoka initially thought.

“…Also, you’ve been speaking pretty casually for a while now.”

“—.”

Saika flinched, like she had only just realized it herself. She gave a small cough, straightening up. “Apologies. I seem to have lost my composure.”

“…It’s fine. Speak however you like. I prefer this version of you.”

“Ugh…” Saika’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she gave her head a little shake and forced herself back into focus. “Heh… You talk big, but it seems you missed something, Madoka Kuga.”

“…Oh?”

“That entire conversation was an act—all to get you to lower your guard.”

“…It didn’t really come across that way.”

“Well, it was an act, okay?” Saika narrowed her eyes dramatically, then suddenly softened into a sly smile. “And here’s the proof. It’s ready.”

“…What…?”

The moment she spoke, Madoka felt it—something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

The sky, the ground, the whole world around her began to shift and warp. Starting from behind Saika, skyscrapers stretched toward a deep azure sky as a dense wind blasted in.

It was unmistakable. This was the same magic Mushiki had used earlier against the flame giant.

“…”

She didn’t know the exact nature of the spell, but her instincts screamed at her not to stay put.

Narrowing her eyes, Madoka braced her feet against what little earth remained beneath her and launched herself forward.

Her target was behind Saika. The origin of the illusion. Mushiki had to be there.

If she could take him out in one strike, the illusion would collapse.

With her goal clear, she shot forward in a straight line.

“Did you think I would let you?”

Of course, Saika had predicted this. Copies of her, identical in face and form, emerged to block Madoka’s path.

Saika probably didn’t think this would stop her—but she didn’t need it to. Her goal was likely just to delay Madoka by creating a wall of bodies. If she could buy enough time, the magic would neutralize the woman. Saika clearly had absolute faith in that outcome.

“…Interesting.”

Madoka’s eyes narrowed as she tightened her grip on her sword. With that much force, any lesser blade would have shattered instantly—but her unbreakable, dull blade didn’t even crack.

Her strategy was dead simple. If there was a wall of flesh in her way, she would cut through it all in an instant. Was it ridiculous? Reckless? Of course. But she had the strength to make it real.

She stepped in, aiming to sweep through the line of Saikas in one decisive slash.

And yet—

“…!”

The next moment, something unexpected happened, forcing her to draw a sharp breath.

The towering labyrinth of skyscrapers around her began to collapse and melt away into thin air.

Madoka hadn’t even taken any damage yet. Why end the spell now? Was this some kind of misdirection? Had Saika achieved her objective already? Or did something go wrong with the illusion?

As she ran through the possibilities, another twist caught her off guard.

A shadow appeared in front of her, then stopped her horizontal slash mid-swing.

For a moment, she thought it was another of Saika’s clones—but no.

Standing there was—

“That’s enough, Mado.”

“…Mushiki?”

It was her younger brother, Mushiki Kuga, now back in his original form.

Well—almost.

Now Mushiki wore a crown of light floating above his head, and he was holding a glass-like crystalline sword.

One look was all it took to know—this was no ordinary weapon. It was most likely magical in origin. If it wasn’t, there was no way he could have stopped her swing head-on, even if she had been holding back.

“…”

No. She rejected that line of thought.

She couldn’t quite explain it, but the sensation of crossing swords with Saika earlier had felt different from facing Mushiki now.

Where Saika fought with layers of magic and calculated skill, Mushiki’s blade radiated something much more straightforward: a pure, unwavering resolve.

“Hmm. Thanks,” Mushiki began quietly while Madoka was still trying to make sense of what was happening. “For caring about me. For trying to protect me. For trying to save me.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “But I’ve made my decision. I’m staying at the Garden. And I’m fighting as a mage to protect humanity… Because Saika saved my life, and I’m going to repay that debt. And…I want to be with her,” he finished, looking her directly in the eye.

“…I see. So that’s how you feel.” Madoka met his simple, straightforward strength with her own piercing gaze. “But is that all?”

“—.”

Mushiki sucked in a breath.

Madoka pressed on, calm but firm. “…You have your feelings. And I have mine. If they’re in conflict, then this is how it was always going to end… I told you, if you want your feelings to get through to me, you’ll have to surpass me.”

“Got it,” Mushiki answered, his eyes sharpening with newfound resolve. “I’ll show you, Mado. I want you to understand just how serious I am.”

“…Yes?”

Madoka frowned, confused by this declaration.

Then Mushiki exhaled slowly, closing his eyes in concentration.

Shutting your eyes when your opponent was right in front of you was sheer madness. Yet Mushiki didn’t move a muscle to attack—no shifts in posture, no tension in his limbs. Just focused intent.

Madoka had no idea what he was doing—and that was exactly what made it so unnerving.

And then something changed.

“…”

One of the many Saika clones stepped toward Mushiki.

Her cheeks flushed red like a bashful girl, and in a near-whisper, she said into his ear, “I love you, Mushiki.”

At that moment—

“—.”

His eyes flew open.

And a flood of information tore into Madoka’s mind.

Words, images, voices, sensations, scents, feelings—an overwhelming deluge of them, all crashing down in a single instant. But what shocked her most was that this impossible wave of data seemed to point to just one thing.

And that was—

…

When she came to, Madoka found herself standing in a strange place: a vast white space, so big it seemed to go on forever.

…Where am I?

Hey, Mado. Welcome.

She spun around at the sudden voice.

Behind her stood Mushiki, wearing a calm, gentle smile.

…Mushiki?

I am Mushiki, but not really. I’m more like a version of him your brain created—you could call me your inner narrator Mushiki.

…Narrator? Narrator of what? she asked.

Mushiki kept smiling as he plopped down onto an invisible chair.

Then he snapped his fingers.

At that moment, bookshelves appeared in the blank white space—shelves upon shelves, filled with what looked like an infinite number of books.

One of the volumes floated off the shelf and landed in his hand.

About how amazing Saika is, of course. And how much I love her.

His smile deepened as he opened the thick tome in his hands.

Shall we begin? Let’s start with how I met her—

As he spoke, the pages began to flip by themselves.

All at once, the white void transformed—into a nonsensical urban labyrinth under a surreal night sky, shaped by countless towering skyscrapers.

There stood Madoka, alone.

No. Before her lay a girl, collapsed on the ground, blood blooming like a flower across her chest.

It was Mushiki, in his female form—Saika Kuozaki as she truly was.

—.

The instant Madoka saw her, her heart gave a powerful thud.

A surge of emotion hit her—one she had never felt before. Sweet as honey, yet as overpowering as a curse.

That was when it finally hit her. In this place, she was herself, and yet at the same time, she wasn’t.

She was seeing everything through Mushiki’s eyes. She was reliving his memories.

…I’m entrusting you with my world…

With their first kiss, the scenery changed yet again.

A school campus. A grand estate. A sports field. A private room. A city beneath the sea. Inside a video game—

Scenes of Mushiki’s time with Saika flashed by in a dizzying rush.

And along with those images, raw, unfiltered emotions slammed into Madoka’s brain and heart.

How vivid those days with Saika were.

How precious their daily life in the Garden had become.

It wasn’t a joke—since the day they met, Mushiki had felt like his real life had finally begun. The sheer force of it was overwhelming, like a tidal wave crashing over a small boat. Madoka was swept up in that flood of feeling.

When she next looked around, the scene had shifted again. They were now in a restaurant overlooking a sparkling city at night.

Gorgeous view, don’t you think, Mushiki?

You’re more gorgeous, Saika.

Oh? Trying to win me over with a cliché?

It’s not flattery. I mean it.

Hmm… I know.

Saika gave a soft, amused smile, her iridescent eyes narrowing in fondness.

The scenery changed again—this time, to a high-end jewelry store.

Ah. Alexandrite, huh?

Yes. It suits you perfectly, Saika.

Oh-ho. That makes me happy. Oh, right, my ring size is—

Eight. Right?

Ha-ha. You remembered.

The world turned white again, and from somewhere, a bell rang.

A trumpet joined in, playing a lighthearted wedding march.

…This is—

Before Madoka could finish her thought, her surroundings changed once more.

A grand chapel. A rich red carpet. A shower of glittering rice and the cheers of a crowd.

There stood Mushiki in a white tuxedo and Saika in a wedding dress.

Somehow, Madoka found herself dressed in a chic gown, celebrating alongside the guests.

Ah… I see.

She didn’t know how, but she understood.

This wasn’t just a memory anymore.

This was beyond that—something that hadn’t happened yet.

A vision of the ideal future Mushiki dreamed of.

Saika stepped up to the altar, then tossed her bouquet high into the air.

Ruri lunged for it with wild eyes, but the bouquet slipped past her hands and landed neatly in Madoka’s.

Saika and Mushiki both turned to her with warm, joyful smiles.

Thanks for everything you’ve done for us, Madoka.

Really, thank you. We’re going to be so happy.

Holding the bouquet, with the couple smiling at her, Madoka felt something strange bloom in her chest.

Having seen the long, painful journey they had taken through Mushiki’s eyes, that picture-perfect moment filled her with something she couldn’t quite name, and she found herself smiling along with them.

“Aaauuuggghhh!”

“…!”

That roar, charged with raw intensity, caused Madoka’s eyes to snap wide open.

Her mind had been somewhere else. For a second, she was utterly disoriented, unable to even remember where she was.

Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings.

A sword in her hand. In front of her, Mushiki slamming a transparent blade against it. And the witch—Saika Kuozaki’s other self—was there as well.

That was when it all came rushing back; she had been locked in combat with Mushiki.

She had no idea what had just been done to her, but it felt like she had been trapped in a long, vivid dream.

And yet, judging by the scene before her, barely any time had passed. Everything looked exactly the same as it had before she blacked out.

“Even if it’s you, Mado, there’s no way I’m losing when it comes to these feelings!”

With a battle cry that could split the air, Mushiki drove his blade forward, his translucent sword shimmering with a soft glow.

“…”

Caught off guard, Madoka tensed, trying to pull herself back into a defensive stance.

But in that exact moment, a sense of wrongness—something that shouldn’t be—flashed through her mind.

Crick.

A sound she had never heard before came from the hilt of her beloved blade, supposedly unbreakable.

It was like the sword itself was groaning under the pressure of her grip, crying out in protest.

“What…?”

The sheer shock made her hand falter for the briefest of instants.

“Hollow Edge!”

With perfect timing, Mushiki unleashed his full strength, slashing down with the transparent sword.

A sharp, ringing crack echoed through the air.

And then, impossibly, Madoka’s indestructible blade snapped clean in two and went spinning through the sky.

“Hah… Hah…”

Mushiki was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he caught his breath after swinging his Hollow Edge.

It looked like it had worked. He swallowed hard as he stared at Madoka’s sword, now cleanly broken in half.

His second substantiation, Hollow Edge, was a sword of nullification, with the power to erase magic and substantiations. He bet it all on a risky gamble: If he could wipe out the enchantment that made Madoka’s blade unbreakable, he might actually have a shot.

Still, that alone wouldn’t have been enough. If Madoka had been at full strength, she probably would have countered somehow, even with the enchantment gone.

The only reason he had been able to catch her off guard was thanks to the strand of hair wrapped around her little finger.

Yes. That had been the key to his plan.

Mushiki had laced a strand of hair with a spell, courtesy of Kuroe, and managed to wrap it around his sister’s finger. Using that, he delivered an overwhelming telepathic blast, just like when Ruri’s prank earlier had caused Kuroe to completely freeze up.

Of course, wrapping a strand of hair around someone’s finger in the middle of a fight was easier said than done.

That was where his fourth substantiation, Void’s Garden, had come in. He had only needed a few seconds.

The moment he summoned it, he let the wind from the activation carry his hair—and bet everything on the slim chance it would wrap itself around Madoka’s finger.

Logically speaking, there was no way something that lucky would just happen. The odds were astronomically low.

But Saika’s fourth substantiation had the power to observe and choose from among infinite possibilities.

If something could happen—even by the slimmest of margins—it would happen.

Sure enough, he managed to pour all his feelings for Saika into that connection, overwhelming Madoka’s mind just long enough to throw her off balance… Though admittedly, Kuroe’s unexpected assist definitely helped.

“…”

Mushiki stood there, fighting to get his breathing under control.

“…Well played,” Madoka muttered, staring at the clean break in her blade.

At last, she turned her gaze back toward him. “…What do you call that technique? It felt like I lived through years in just a second.”

She was probably talking about the telepathy. Mushiki gave a small nod.

“…My Super-I-Love-Saika Beam.”

“…You couldn’t come up with a better name?” piped a weak voice from behind him—Kuroe, or rather, Saika.

Mushiki looked over to see her holding her forehead, her face bright red.

“Wh-what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Only then did it hit him. Right. She still had his hair tied around her little finger, too. She might not have taken a direct hit like Madoka, but the backlash must have reached her nonetheless.

“S-sorry! I didn’t realize—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay. This is nothing. I’m totally fine…” She shook her head a little, clearly not totally fine.

Madoka glanced her way. “…That was a terrifying technique. It felt like you drilled Saika Kuozaki’s entire essence straight into my brain. If I weren’t me, I might have ended up falling for you.”

“Ah… Sorry about that…,” Saika said with a sheepish smile.

Madoka, on the other hand, let out a slow, satisfied sigh. “…Seems I’ve lost. I have no choice but to acknowledge you, Saika Kuozaki.”

“Mado—”

“…I didn’t knock you out. I didn’t break your sword. Mushiki did. Are you sure you want to give me that win?” Saika teased.

“…In that moment, I understood,” Madoka answered, glancing over her shoulder. “He loves you more than he loves me. That’s the only victory that really matters. Besides…”

“Besides…?”

“…Can I say it?”

“…”

Saika blinked in surprise, then turned away like she didn’t want Mushiki to see her expression.

Noticing this, Madoka curled her lips into a faint smile. “…I never meant to get in the way of Mushiki’s love life. I just wanted to know what kind of person had won his heart. And whether he had the resolve to stand by that choice.” She let out a wry chuckle. “And maybe I was just jealous.”

“Jealous…?” Mushiki echoed, confused.

“…You did say you were going to marry me when you grew up.” Madoka pouted.

“Huh…?!”

Mushiki’s voice jumped an octave from pure shock.

Saika gave him a flat look in mock judgment. “Oh? Is that so? Mushiki, you keep saying I’m the only one for you, but turns out you’re quite the ladies’ man.”

“Wait, hold on! When did I say that, Mado?! I don’t remember that at all?!”

“…Ah. So I was just another girl you led on. How tragic.”

“No! This is all a misunderstanding! Mado?! Come on, Mado?!”

“…Hmm.”

Mushiki cried out for help, but Madoka merely broke into the faintest of smiles.

Chapter 6: Lastly, Ensure the Party Is a Huge Success

“That brings tonight’s festivities to a close. As headmistress of Void’s Garden, I, Saika Kuozaki, hereby declare the Garden Night Soiree officially over.”

A clear, ringing voice echoed from the speakers scattered around the venue.

Roughly three hours had passed since the defeat of the mythic-grade annihilation factor Surtr and the battle with Madoka Kuga. Now, as the first hints of dawn brushed the Garden’s skies, the event’s closing ceremony was underway.

Standing at the center stage set up in the plaza was, of course, Saika Kuozaki—or technically, Mushiki—speaking loudly into the microphone resting on the podium.

“Despite suffering an attack by a Mythologia, we’ve reached the end of tonight’s event without a single casualty. That, I believe, is something to be proud of. I offer my deepest thanks for everyone’s efforts… As a token of appreciation, the cafeteria in the central school building will be open for a limited time, free of charge. Please use it for the afterparty. I’ve also heard that Anviet Svarner has prepared a special menu for the occasion.”

Cheers and applause erupted from the Garden students gathered nearby.

“Oooh…!”

“Now that’s our Madam Witch! So generous!”

“We love you, Headmistress!”

“Wait—what?! The party’s starting now?!”

A small chorus of panicked voices sounded from amid the crowd, but they were quickly drowned out by cheers as fireworks went off behind the stage. If not for the anti-recognition barrier, the surrounding neighborhoods would have probably filed noise complaints from all the ruckus.

Watching it all unfold from the balcony of the central school building were two figures—Kuroe, or rather, Saika, in her usual attire, and Madoka.

“…I see. Seems like you really couldn’t do all this without Mushiki.”

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but for now, we’re relying entirely on his acting skills.” With no one nearby to overhear, Saika spoke in her usual tone.

Madoka, still watching Mushiki up onstage, breathed a quiet sigh. “…To think that the same Mushiki who used to trail after me all the time would one day introduce me to his fiancée. I guess I should be happy, but it’s complicated.”

“…Not that we’re engaged or anything,” Saika replied, her cheeks tinged pink.

Madoka gave her a curious glance. “…Really? You seemed pretty excited picking out rings.”

“Hold on. That was just Mushiki’s fantasy. It hasn’t actually happened.”

“…I wonder if you two are the chapel-wedding type? I had better have a dress ready.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“…Heh. Just kidding. For now,” Madoka said with a nonchalant shrug.

Saika let out a tired sigh.

After a short pause, Madoka casually picked up the black guitar case resting by the wall and slung it over her back.

“Oh? Heading out?”

“…Yeah. I’ve done what I came to do. I get where Mushiki stands now. And you seem a lot more trustworthy than the rumors made you out to be.”

“That’s very flattering.” Saika gave her a wry smile. “That said, the afterparty is just starting. Why not stick around and say hello to Mushiki and Ruri before you go?”

“…Wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. No one wants a chaperone hanging around. I’ll catch up with them another time.” With a small wave, Madoka turned to leave the balcony—then stopped as if suddenly remembering something. “Right. Almost forgot. One last thing.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“…A promise is a promise. I’ll let you call me Sister-in-law, just this once.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Saika forced a weak smile.

She had brought it up herself, but now that it was official, saying it out loud felt a lot more awkward than expected.

Madoka, however, turned serious. “…If the two of you ever separate into your own bodies and actually get married, I’ll expect a formal introduction.”

Saika blushed at that last remark. “Who knows. I might not say yes to his proposal. And there’s no guarantee Mushiki won’t change his mind before then.”

“…The first part’s up to you. But the second? That’s not going to happen. You realize that, don’t you?”

“…” Saika looked down, face even redder now, lips pressed together in silence.

Madoka’s voice softened as she went on. “…I’ll admit I’ve got a bit of a big-sister complex. But Mushiki’s a good egg. He’s reckless sometimes, sure, but he’s got a strong sense of right and wrong, and he’s compassionate, too. Most importantly, if he loves someone, he won’t ever betray them. I’m certain of that.”

“…Well… Yes…”

“…But don’t get too comfortable, either.”

“Huh?” Saika blinked in surprise.

Madoka’s tone remained calm. “…If you’ve sorted out your feelings, then face them for real. Mushiki may not realize it, but he’s a natural flirt. Let your guard down for too long, and someone might just sweep him away from under you.”

“Hmm…”

Saika felt her breath catch. Those words had hit her like a punch to the chest.

Noticing the look on her face, Madoka relaxed slightly. “…Oops. Maybe I overstepped.”

With those parting words, she turned and left.

Madoka left the central school building, passed by the buzzing plaza, and slipped down a quiet side road, heading out from the Garden grounds.

Once she stepped past the anti-recognition barrier, she paused to glance back over her shoulder.

The fireworks and cheers that had echoed around her moments ago were now gone, as if the Garden itself had fallen into a slumber.

There were black scorch marks here and there on the Garden’s outer wall, sectioned off behind yellow caution tape. She had to think for a moment before remembering.

“…Ah. Right.”

She had crashed a motorcycle here on the way in.

Well, it looked like she was walking home. She let out a small sigh and started off down the dark road alone.

It was hard to say how long she had been walking when—

“Hooold up! Hey there, gorgeous lady!”

“…Hmm?”

A voice called out from behind her. Madoka stopped and turned around.

There, silhouetted against the moon, stood a figure in a costume that looked like a weird mashup of a cat and a skeleton—probably someone who had snuck out of the Garden Night Soiree. Seeing them standing there on a quiet night street felt more than a little surreal.

“…What are you wearing?”

“Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard of the Skull Cat, Honeko? She’s, like, totally trending right now, and I’m trying to make her super popular, you know?” the costumed figure answered in a goofy tone.

Madoka frowned slightly. “…That’s not what I meant. You’re talking to someone with your face hidden?”

“Oops, my bad! But, like, I’m kind of a big deal. If I don’t act all casual and stuff, my fans will be all over me! It’s so overwhelming, you know?” With that, the figure lifted their oversized mascot head off with a pop.

Underneath was a girl with a flashy, attention-grabbing look: hair dyed in streaks of pink and blue, bold makeup that made her eyes pop, and ears decked out with jangling piercings and cuffs.

“…And you are?” Madoka asked warily.

“Nice to meetcha,” the girl replied as she started peeling off the rest of the costume. “I’m Clara Tokishima, a former mage from this place called the Tower, an unbeatable streamer, and a proud candidate for Mushipi’s girlfriend!”

“…Mushipi?”

“Oh. Mushiki Kuga, I mean.”

“…Hmm.” Madoka narrowed her eyes slightly at the girl, Clara. “So what do you want with me?”

“Well, I, uh, might’ve overheard a thing or two at the soiree. And I thought, hey, I’d love to get to know Mushipi’s big sister! I mean, c’mon—if I ended up marrying him, you’d be my sister-in-law, right? And, like, even with help from a first substantiation, you beat the Surtr in the flesh! That’s totally insane! So yeah, I figured I’d better introduce myself… And hey, let’s team up and save Mushipi from that manipulative witch Saika Kuozaki!”

“…I’ve decided to stay out of that. Whatever happens next is between him and her. But there’s one thing I know for sure…” Madoka shot Clara a sharp glare. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Eeep! Was it that obvious?” Clara winked, utterly unfazed.

“…Well, whatever. If you’re going to call yourself a candidate to be Mushiki’s girlfriend, then there’s only one thing for you to do,” Madoka said calmly as she reached into her guitar case and drew a sheathed sword. “Prove it. Beat me.”

“Whew! You’re so cool, Sis!”

Under the moonlight, Clara’s lips twisted into a toothy smirk.

After giving his closing speech, Mushiki reverted to his true self and headed to the cafeteria, only to find it had already turned into a full-blown afterparty.

The tables were covered with snacks, sweets, and what looked like some last-minute specialty dishes whipped up by Anviet. All around, students were clinking paper cups filled with soft drinks in celebratory toasts.

Since the Garden Night Soiree took place at night, the wrap-up party always lasted until dawn. Everyone should have been dead tired from working so long after hours, but whether it was the satisfaction of pulling off the event or the adrenaline rush from surviving an attack by a mythic-grade annihilation factor, hardly anyone looked sleepy. Instead, they were all wide-eyed, animated, and deep in conversation.

“Hey, Kuga! Where did you disappear to? You’re late, we already started!”

“You always vanish when something fun’s happening! Did you catch the beauty pageant? Madam Witch was in it! And she was wearing the Grand Witch outfit!”

Classmates called out to Mushiki as soon as they spotted him.

Of course, he knew exactly what had happened onstage—he was the one who had been up there. But since he obviously couldn’t admit that, he put on his best disappointed face and said, “What?! No way, really? I wish I’d seen it.”

It seemed Hizumi had picked up on that, too, as she wandered over. Now that all the event duties were wrapped up, her expression was a little lighter, her eyes almost human again.

“Oh, Kuga. Is your sister okay?”

“Yeah. I mean…I think so,” he answered vaguely as he accepted a soda from her.

That was exactly why he had come back—to confirm how things had turned out.

Sure, he had somehow managed to talk Madoka down. But he still had to handle the event wrap-up and closing remarks, which meant he had had no choice but to leave the aftermath to Kuroe. He hadn’t been able to stop wondering how their conversation had gone.

Then again, Kuroe was shrewd and experienced. She probably hadn’t fumbled it. And yet—

“Ah…”

Catching sight of a familiar figure, he rushed toward them.

Sitting a little apart from the crowd was Kuroe.

“There you are! I was looking for you.”

“…!”

She flinched when he clapped her lightly on the back.

“I did say not to sneak up on me like that, didn’t I?”

“Huh? Oh… S-sorry,” he stammered, bowing his head in apology.

She let out a small cough and sat up straighter. “So what is it?”

“Um, well… About my sister. What happened after I left?”

“…No need to worry. She went home without incident. As for your situation, she agreed to observe for a while before making any decisions.”

“Really…? That’s great. Thank you. Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Think nothing of it. You’re an important figure to the Garden, after all. To the Garden. Yes. You’re important to the Garden, and that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“…Kuroe?”

He gave her a puzzled look. There was something oddly adamant about the way she kept repeating that.

“Did something happen? You’ve been acting a little strange ever since that fight with my sister…”

“Huh? Nothing at all. Don’t overthink it,” Kuroe replied curtly, before suddenly remembering something. “By the way, about what I said to your sister via telepathy…”

“Oh, that. Right…” Mushiki’s cheeks flushed.

He knew exactly what she was referring to.

I love you, Mushiki.

That was what she had whispered in his ear.

Yes, she had explained the plan to him beforehand, but that line had been pure improvisation on Kuroe’s part. The shock of it had amplified his mental image to an extreme, letting him slam a psychic message straight through Madoka’s defenses.

And yet—

“You do understand that was simply a tactic to boost your mental output, correct? I trust you won’t get the wrong idea,” Kuroe said without looking at him, her tone utterly cold and businesslike.

Her complete lack of delicacy left Mushiki breaking out into a nervous sweat.

Granted, she had always been cool and blunt, and he did know that those words had been a calculated move to defeat Madoka… But this was clearly different. Something felt off. Panicking inside, he stepped around to face her.

“Um, did I do something to upset you…?”

“Don’t be absurd. As if I would change my behavior over anything you did. Try not to flatter yourself.” She turned her face away with a huff.

Mushiki could only gape at her, when—

“Kuuuroooeee!”

A shrill, vengeful voice rang out.

A moment later, Ruri came stomping onto the scene, two flashlights inexplicably strapped to her forehead like horns.

“There you are, you thieving crow! You’d better explain exactly what you meant back at the Witch’s Manor!” She threw Kuroe a furious glare.

The target of her indignation, however, merely heaved a bored sigh. “Oh, that. That was another tactic to bring your sister around. You can rest easy, there are no special feelings between me and Mushiki. None whatsoever.”

“…!”

The way she said it, so flat and definitive, nearly sent Mushiki falling to his knees.

…Not that he had expected anything. But hearing it said aloud like that still hit like a bullet to the heart.

And yet—

“…Uh, what? That’s complete nonsense. You’re obviously in full-on acting weird because I like him mode.”

“Huh…?”

“…?!”

Mushiki’s eyes went wide at Ruri’s blunt declaration, and Kuroe practically stopped breathing.

“Acting weird because I like him…?”

“Duh! You’re flustered because you finally realized you have feelings for him, and now you can’t act normal anymore! It’s classic crush behavior! What are you, twelve?!”

“…”

Kuroe fell completely silent—then abruptly stood up and bolted.

“Hey, wait! I’m not done yelling at you!” Ruri shouted after her, practically steaming.

Mushiki, meanwhile, was left standing there, unable to make sense of the scene in front of him.

“…Ugh… Uh-oh…”

Kuroe—or rather, Saika—slumped against a wall the moment she reached a quiet, deserted spot.

She had to admit, storming off without saying a word had been a terrible move. But there was no way—no way—she could let Mushiki or Ruri see her face right now.

She didn’t need a mirror to know—it was bright red. Burning up, probably. She covered her face with both hands, as if that might cool it down.

“…What should I do…? This is… This might actually be really bad…”

Tucked away in a shadowy corner of the school building, Saika Kuozaki—the world’s most powerful mage—muttered something that didn’t fit her reputation in the slightest.

Afterword

Hey, everyone. Koushi Tachibana here. Thanks for picking up Volume 7 of King’s Proposal, The Raven-Black Attendant. I hope you enjoyed it.

This time around, the cover star is none other than Kuroe Karasuma—one of the very first characters introduced in Volume 1 and a major player in the story.

Sharp-eyed readers might have already noticed, but the cover of this volume actually mirrors that of the first one. Try lining them up side by side—it’s a neat little trick. A clever touch, don’t you think? And you know, there’s actually a certain something about Kuroe—she’s… (redacted for the sake of folks who haven’t read Volume 1 yet)!

We did consider putting Mushiki and Ruri’s sister, Madoka Kuga, on the cover instead—she makes her first appearance in this volume, after all—but story-wise, it couldn’t be anyone but Kuroe here. That said, Madoka is a personal favorite of mine, so I was a little torn. Still, since she didn’t have to be cover-ready, I got to go full tilt with her character design quirks, so I would say it all worked out in the end.

As always, this book only exists thanks to a lot of wonderful people.

Huge thanks to Tsunako, the illustrator—you killed it again. I know I threw out all kinds of ridiculous requests for Madoka’s design. “Make her eyes look meaner!” “Not angry—moody!” “Let’s aim for something niche and intense!” “More shadows under the eyes!” “Yes! That’s the right kind of unhinged!” “Bet you lost sleep drawing that much darkness into her!” And somehow you still managed to bring her to life perfectly. Seriously, thank you.

To the designer, Kusano, and my editor—thank you, as always. The way you echoed the designs between Volumes 1 and 7 was genius. I literally clapped when I saw it.

To everyone involved in editing, publishing, distribution, and sales—and to you, holding this book in your hands right now—thank you, I offer you my heartfelt thanks like a great big blooming flower of gratitude.

So where do Mushiki and Saika go from here?

You’ll have to wait for Volume 8 to find out!

November 2024, Koushi Tachibana