“Look, just saying ‘the Third Division’ like it’s one big group isn’t accurate anymore…” Isotani turned to Muto. “…Do you mind if I explain?”
“Please. In fact, you’d be doing me a favor. There are some things I’m not allowed to tell you myself.”
“Got it.”
I would’ve preferred to hear it from Muto directly, but that might be seen as her leaking confidential information.
Isotani stepping in instead felt like exploiting a loophole, but I realized it was best to keep my mouth shut.
“All right. So the first thing you should know is that, right now, the Third Division is fractured.”
“Oh?”
“There’s the Muroguchi family and the people who want them back in power. In Class A, that’s Obata and Kasahara. The Muroguchi camp makes up about seventy percent of the Third Division’s ranks.”
If I remembered correctly, our class’s number nine was the grandson of General Muroguchi, the former division leader. And number five was loyal to him.
Given the size of the faction, it was probably reasonable to assume that a large portion of it simply wanted to keep away from trouble with the other factions.
“Then there’s the group that wants to rebuild the Third Division without the Muroguchi family. That’s about…twenty percent or so?”
“Sounds about right,” commented Muto.
“Hmm.”
Those would be families from other factions who had ties to the Third Division or were helping with its restructuring. The numbers were small, but since most of the outside supporters would be in that camp, they had a lot of influence.
Thinking about it, it made sense. If external entities were going to back the Third Division anyway, they would want it to be under their own control.
Isotani’s family, along with most of Class A, apparently supported that line of thinking.
“Finally, you’ve got the ‘Forget about family ties right now, we should be chasing military glory’ crowd.”
“Well, that’s something…”
It was hard to say whether it was brave or stupid. From a soldier’s point of view, I guess it was honorable. But politically? Extremely reckless.
“Saori’s family falls in that last group. They don’t meddle in other people’s fights, and they don’t want others meddling in theirs, either. Their stance is to follow whoever comes out on top. That gives them some freedom, since they’re not seen as a threat politically, but it also means they’re kind of isolated. Right?”
“Right,” Muto reluctantly confirmed.
Because her family avoided taking sides, she couldn’t go around telling others what to do.
“I see…”
“I could try voicing some opinions through my family. But if you were to ask me how much that would likely help…”
“It’d be pretty ineffective, yeah,” Isotani said. “Your group’s the one most hungry for military success, after all.”
“…Yes.”
“I see. So that’s how it is…”
From her family’s point of view, what mattered was that someone from the Third Division got results. It didn’t matter who.
That meant they wanted information on the hybrid unit they were hoping to mass-produce, and maybe even on me as the prototype’s pilot. Some of them might well be willing to break into my house to get it.
Given that, what I’d said earlier—that I’d take out anyone who came after me or triggered my traps—had probably come off more as “Set foot near me, and you die.”
That hadn’t been my intention. I just wanted peace and quiet.
But it wasn’t like my choice of words could change the fact that there was real self-interest at play here. If I wasn’t careful, it might end up looking like I had provoked them.
I didn’t think Muto’s family would be the most dangerous. Yikes… I’ll have deal with them first. But how?
This was starting to get too intense for a student like me. I felt like burying my head in my hands.
“Um, I have a suggestion that might help improve the situation. Or rather, a request.”
Just as I was racking my brain over how to persuade Muto’s family, she was the one who spoke up first—and with a favor to ask, no less.
Muto could make my life hell through harassment and pressure if she wanted, without resorting to something as drastic as outright kidnapping. Coming from her of all people, this “request” could only mean one thing.
She’s giving me a favor to call in.
Thank goodness I was classmates with someone so kindhearted.
There was only one way to respond to such a thoughtful offer.
“If there’s anything I can do, I’d be happy to help.”
I couldn’t go around leaking classified information, and honestly, there wasn’t a whole lot I could offer, but I was willing to help out where I was able.
“Then…could you share any kind of trick or technique for operating that mech?”
“Huh?”
She looked so apologetic that I thought she was going to ask for something ridiculous, but that was it?
“Hey!” Isotani snapped.
“I know it’s terribly forward—it’s downright inappropriate of me to ask—but if Keita tells me, then the others wouldn’t have time to bother him anymore… What do you think?”
“Hmm…”
If you couldn’t operate it yourself, it made sense to ask someone who could.
Besides, it wasn’t like my piloting technique was some state secret. In class, we openly discussed and traded thoughts on operating our mechs all the time. I had even explained it to Mogami when he asked, and he’d shared that information with military personnel as well.
The real reason why Muto looked so guilty and Isotani was raising her voice must have been because they thought the mech’s operation was classified.
Maybe if you phrased what I did as “the only way in the world to make that mech work,” then I guess it did sound rather valuable.
Personally, I never had any intention of keeping it secret, though.
Mogami might have been enjoying the Third Division’s quandary, feeling smug that it served them right, but it wasn’t like he actually wanted Japan to lose the war against the monsters.
If more people could pilot the mass-produced versions of his mech, that would just mean I wouldn’t be as important anymore.
By teaching them the ropes, I could gain leverage with the Third Division and the military, and there was a decent chance those mass-produced models would be the ones heading to the front lines instead of me.
Which mattered more, hogging all the glory or staying alive? It was a no-brainer.
Besides, being a glory hound sounded like such a hassle.
In the end, there was only one answer for me to give.
“That’s fine. In fact, I can throw in a few ideas I’ve been working on with the engineers at Mogami Industries. At the very least, if you use those, you won’t have to worry about not being able to get it to move anymore.”
That would make the mech less flexible in other ways, but they could figure that part out on their own.
“You…?” Isotani gawked.
“…Are you sure about this?” Muto asked.
“Yes. Besides, this helps Japan as well.”
“…I’m truly grateful.”
“In return, can I ask you to make sure your people don’t bother me?”
“Of course! I’ll do everything in my power!”
“Perfect. Then we have a deal.”
“…”
Glaring daggers at Muto, Isotani looked like she wanted to say something, but she kept quiet. After all, this deal was between me and Muto. And more importantly, Isotani could hardly argue about it now that I’d said it was for the good of the country.
Just to be clear, I was thinking a few steps ahead here.
The key point was that this deal had been made in the presence of someone who wasn’t affiliated with the Third Division—that is, Isotani. From an outside perspective, it looked like I had only handed over this valuable information to smooth things over and keep the Third Division from retaliating out of spite.
To the Third Division, it would look like some uppity civilian had finally learned his place, which should hopefully ease their frustrations to some extent. Meanwhile, to everyone else, I looked like the poor victim who’d been strong-armed by the Third Division.
That kind of reputation would come in handy for me down the line.
Besides, I was also affected by the mass-produced units being unusable. It was a small price to pay if I thought of it as handing over intelligence I’d already been planning to share in exchange for my safety and future security.
This should do for now. So what should I tell them about first?
Feeling quietly relieved that I had protected both myself and my sister, I began choosing which pieces of information to offer. As I did, I glanced between Muto, who was positively beaming, and Isotani, who hadn’t moved a muscle and looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. Seeing as I was already at it, I figured I might as well share it with her as well.