It was Monday, June 24. As planned the previous day, Tatsuya was visiting Miyaki Island again. The main purpose of his visit was to test the Aircar, but there was nothing noteworthy about the test itself. The vehicle performed as expected across the board.
“I didn’t expect it to drive underwater, too,” Tatsuya marveled.
“The engineers claim it’s airtight enough to even travel in space,” Hyougo said. “Unfortunately, its gravity-interference mechanism that enables flight does not function well at altitudes above six thousand kilometers.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan to use it for space travel,” Tatsuya quipped sarcastically.
He noticed the Aircar had only two doors, which slid backward rather than opening sideways. The windows were also thick and fixed into the doors.
“Let me guess,” Tatsuya continued. “The two-door style helps minimize the vehicle’s openings and improve the seal?”
“Precisely.” Hyougo nodded. “The Aircar is intended for use on land, at low altitudes, and over water, so please keep that in mind.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning on taking it into the stratosphere or underwater unless absolutely necessary,” Tatsuya reassured him.
“Perfect.” The butler nodded. “As a precaution, I recommend using the vehicle’s water-travel mode for commuting between this island and the mainland.”
“The mode that automatically maintains an altitude of several dozen centimeters?”
“Precisely. Since you have a small vessel license for maritime navigation, you should not encounter any issues with the authorities.”
“Sounds good.”
At eighteen, Tatsuya had acquired both a four-wheeled vehicle license and a small vessel license without maritime restrictions. Naturally, the Aircar didn’t require a boating license. But in water-travel mode, the vehicle worked like a hovercraft. Tatsuya could easily claim that type of use was covered by his small vessel license.
Worst-case scenario, I could always fly away, he thought.
But that was his lack of legal compliance talking.
Sensing that Tatsuya and Hyougo had finished their business, someone called out.
“Hey there.”
It was Lina. She had come along to observe the Aircar tests and was now standing to the side.
“What is it, Lina?” Tatsuya asked.
“Are you really sending me home?” Lina probed.
“What do you mean?”
“I just find it hard to believe you would send me back after showing me all of this military equipment.” She frowned.
“I still don’t follow,” Tatsuya said, confused. “The Yotsuba family are civilians, so this Aircar is no military secret.”
“That’s rich!” Lina spat. “The Yotsubas may not be part of the national armed forces, but you’re still a paramilitary organization.”
“That’s not true at all,” Tatsuya countered. “Sure, we sometimes make money through violence, but that’s just a side gig. If you want to classify the Yotsuba family, I would call it a research organization.”
“So the people fear you because of a side hustle? What a joke,” Lina scoffed.
“No one told them to fear us.” Tatsuya shook his head. “It’s not fair to fault us for that.”
“Can you blame them?!” Lina yelled. “The Yotsuba family can wipe out an entire fleet, base, and military port all in one strike!”
“That’s my power, not the Yotsubas’,” Tatsuya corrected.
Lina gave him an incredulous stare. She couldn’t believe he had casually referred to the ability to kill tens of thousands as “his power.” With those two words, he was acknowledging that he was personally responsible for taking a great many people’s lives.
At the same time, responsibility could be shared. The Scorching Halloween was an incident that occurred during a military conflict. As such, whoever was in command would have chosen how to use strategic-class magic. In other words, Tatsuya’s role in the debacle could be diminished by shifting blame to the superior officer who gave the orders.
Even if someone else was calling the shots, though, acknowledging the magic as his own power put the outcome at least partially in Tatsuya’s hands. They didn’t really need to debate responsibility. The fact remained: Tens of thousands were dead.
Could Tatsuya really be this oblivious? Lina wondered. No, there’s no way.
Tatsuya wasn’t the type to willfully ignore reality. Though Lina hadn’t known him for long, she understood that much. Tatsuya was perfectly sane yet casually acknowledged the fact that he was a mass murderer.
“…So I haven’t been shown any military secrets, which means I’m free to come and go as I please. Good to know.”
Lina ended things there. After all, she, too, was a strategic magician. Delving any deeper into the topic at hand could lead to an unpleasant discussion about herself.
“Anyway, Tatsuya, I have a request,” she continued.
“I can’t guarantee I’ll grant it, but ask away,” he replied.
They spoke inside a hangar. It might have been more appropriate to call it a garage, given the size and all the maintenance equipment, but the term hangar felt more fitting. In a corner, there was a patio table with four matching chairs. Tatsuya walked toward it with Lina in tow.
Hyougo pulled out a chair for Lina. Unable to refuse the offer, Lina sat down. Tatsuya took a seat across from her. Hyougo then brought over some iced tea. Tatsuya gave him a silent nod of thanks and turned his attention back to Lina.
“So what do you want?” he asked abruptly.
Lina flinched at Tatsuya’s directness but was careful to hide it.
“I’m not a prisoner, am I?” she asked carefully.
“Of course not,” he said.
“Then, give me back the CAD you took from me when I went to your house,” she demanded.
“Why?” Tatsuya asked.
Lina had expected this question, but that didn’t diminish how intimidating it was to be asked it.
She took a deep breath before replying, “I don’t like being unarmed.”
Depending on Tatsuya’s mood, this could be taken as a provocative statement. Lina shouldn’t have said anything to begin with—she was alone and under his protection. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse that wouldn’t cause trouble, and she refused to hide her true feelings when she had nothing to be ashamed of.
Besides, Lina believed deep down that her somewhat selfish rationale wouldn’t upset Tatsuya. Although, if someone had accused her of harboring such thoughts, she would have denied it with reddened cheeks.
“I thought I was giving you a decent level of freedom,” Tatsuya said.
“I just need the CAD, okay?!”
Lina felt comfortable coming on so strong only because of the smile on Tatsuya’s face. She was unintentionally—or unconsciously—betting everything on his kindness.
“Interesting,” Tatsuya said, amused. “Well, I guess I can relate.”
“Great!” Lina exclaimed.
“But I can’t grant your request.”
“Why not?!”
“I can’t let you use a USNA military CAD in Japan,” Tatsuya explained. “It might have a contraption not even you are aware of.”
“Come on.” Lina groaned. Though her tone was amusing, she was dead serious.
“What I can do,” Tatsuya proposed, “is give you a different CAD.”
Lina’s eyes lit up.
“You have a CAD for me?” she asked excitedly.
“We have taken every measure to ensure the security of this facility, but we’re up against the USNA,” Tatsuya said. “In case of an emergency, you’ll need a means of self-defense.”
“Tatsuya,” Lina replied with a disgusted stare. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be a real bully?”
“It wasn’t a secret. You were just being impatient,” Tatsuya said, unfazed by Lina’s reaction.
“You’re so carefree,” Lina rebutted. “I need to have my guard up.”
She wasn’t wrong. And if she hadn’t been blushing so hard, Tatsuya might have given her credit.
“I’ve put your new CAD in the control room,” he said. “I can adjust it now, if you’d like.”
“You’re going to adjust it yourself?” Lina asked skeptically.
“Don’t worry. I do it all the time,” Tatsuya said.
“Oh, right. I guess you were part of Taurus Silver,” she said.
“Exactly.”
Tatsuya stood up and walked away from the table. Lina downed her iced tea and hurried after him.