Haru spoke up timidly, a frown on her face. “She’s not…dead, is she?”
“Her vitals are fine. And she’s receiving nutrition via an IV drip.”
Kaguya was hooked up to an IV, just as Azuma said.
“What do you think is happening to her…to Lieutenant Shinohara…right now?”
“As for details…I don’t know, but I suspect it’s not fundamentally different from the fatigue and health problems she was experiencing before from hopping into the heroes’ minds.”
In Azuma’s opinion, this was likely an extreme version of those earlier symptoms. Although to be honest, that was simply the only possibility he could think of.
“The bigger problem facing us right now…”
Azuma glanced toward a corner of the room. A girl was sitting there—Mari Ezakura. Mari was assigned to Technical. She sat on the chair with her knees up, watching Kaguya intently.
“…is the death of Technical’s director.”
It happened last week.
Azuma and the others had returned in a panic, carrying Kaguya, who still had not woken up, only to be greeted by news of the Director’s death. The official cause of death was blood loss. She had been stabbed through her throat and between her eyebrows by what appeared to have been a bladed weapon.
Given the blood-soaked, katana-shaped Chronos that had been found next to her body, her death was being treated as a suicide. Mari Ezakura had been the first to cry foul play. “The Director would never do anything so stupid,” she insisted.
Azuma agreed. Moreover, suicide via a katana would have been no easy task. They weren’t even talking about across the stomach, like some form of seppuku. In order to stab yourself in the throat with a katana, you would need to hold the sword by the blade since it would be impossible to reach the hilt even with your arms extended as far as they could go. However, there were no injuries on the Director’s hands.
The Director’s death—and Kaguya’s coma—had both come as a great shock for Mari.
Considering the state Mari was in, Charon had taken her under emergency protection. Whoever had killed the Director—if they had done it because of the Director’s research, then Mari was in more danger now than anyone.
Due to the Director’s death, the Bureau was shutting Technical No. 2 down indefinitely. Unless Kaguya returned, Technical would likely be dissolved.
The entire situation was hopeless.
“A whole week…,” Azuma said, staring at Kaguya’s sleeping face and scowling as if he had just bitten down on something sour.
He had been worried that something like this might happen.
Diving into another person’s psyche was inherently dangerous. Azuma had once entered someone else’s mind himself, so he understood. But he still hadn’t been able to stop Kaguya.
“Does she have any family…?” Koyuki asked softly to no one in particular.
“No,” Azuma answered. “She was an orphan, just like us.”
Kaguya had no family. Both of her parents had passed away, and her brother had been missing ever since the day that Kaguya had almost transformed into a hero.
About her brother, though…
Kaguya had tried looking into where he had gone, but all traces of him had disappeared seven years ago. It was a dead end. It was unclear whether he was even alive, although he probably wouldn’t have abandoned Kaguya if that were the case; therefore, it was more likely that he was already gone.
“She could still wake up, though…,” said Koyuki, her hollow voice diffusing into the quiet of the hospital room.
The atmosphere was indescribable. Although no one said so out loud, they all knew how unlikely it was that she would awaken.
“It’s still only been a week, right?” said Haru, as if to argue with the silence filling the room. Her voice sounded troubled. “Maybe we’re being too pessimistic. She could open her eyes all of a sudden. That’s how it’s always worked up until now, right?”
“Yes. Up until now.”
Including when they had faced that fog hero.
Speaking of which…, thought Azuma.
While it had only taken a few dozen seconds, Kaguya hadn’t woken up immediately after that fight, either. Perhaps that delay had been a precursor to what they were seeing now.
“I don’t think we need to worry too much, but…,” Azuma said, turning to look at Kaguya, an uneasy expression on his face. She was unable to breathe on her own and had been hooked up to a ventilator. It was difficult to see her like that. “What if…something happens, and she turns into a hero?”
“I don’t want to think about that, but you’re right. If something like that were to occur…”
Haru lowered her gaze. Azuma didn’t need her to finish the sentence. If Kaguya turned, who would be able to save her?
“No one.”
Azuma cast a pained glance toward Kaguya, who continued to sleep just as before.
“No one would be able to save her if that occurred…”
Mari Ezakura had first met Kaguya around when Technical No. 2 had lost most of its staff. Like almost everyone else in the Bureau, Mari and Kaguya were orphans. Mari couldn’t even remember her parents’ faces anymore.
Maybe that had something to do with why—even after learning the truth about the creatures that had stolen her parents from her—Mari had felt nothing in particular toward them. She had never been particularly prone to strong fits of passion since she was more the lukewarm type.
Despite this, Kaguya had never given up on forging a connection with her. Kaguya had even once covered for Mari when Mari, due to her own carelessness, had committed an irreparable blunder.
Something about the way Kaguya treated her reminded Mari of the older sister she had lost. It was around that time when Mari started growing attached to Kaguya.
“…”
Whatever else happened, Kaguya was Mari’s mentor and hers alone.
Kaguya was already seventeen. In a few more years, she would lose the ability to see heroes and be taken off the front lines. Once that happened, Mari figured she would probably quit soon after as well. There would be no reason to stay at Technical if Kaguya wasn’t there. Mari didn’t really care about heroes one way or the other.
“…”
She sat in total silence. Elegant silence. No one spoke to her now.
Garbled static. She tilted her eyes upward at the sound.
The members of Charon seemed to be listening to something on their comms. Someone must have been contacting them.
“Major Mirai,” Azuma said softly, causing Mari to realize he was speaking with Combat Support. “Have things calmed down on your end…?” He made it sound as if the person he was talking to had a lot on their plate. “I see… Lieutenant Shinohara…still shows no change…”
At those words, Mari finally lifted her head. She could see the exhaustion on Captain Yuuri Azuma’s face, even from a sideways glance.
“There’s been a hero sighting…?” Azuma asked. “Understood. In a shopping complex? All members are prepared to mobilize immediately.”
The words barely registered in Mari’s mind. It was as if they were coming from somewhere far away. Who knew that words were such a meaningless string of sounds when you paid no attention to them?
Once the request came in, the looks on everyone’s faces changed. They immediately moved to depart. As Mari watched them go, she couldn’t help but feel the distance between herself and them. How could they just leave Kaguya like this, given the state that she was in?
Alone now, Mari stared intently at Kaguya’s bed.
“Kaguya…”
She still hadn’t woken up.
It was too painful to see her like this. Mari could feel a weight settling in her chest. But not all of this heaviness was related to Kaguya.
The truth about the Chronoses—the Director’s theory that the Chronoses were sentient. Should she tell the others? Should Charon know whose suffering they relied on?
“But…if I tell them…”
It was obvious what would happen next. The members of Charon would not want to use the Chronoses anymore. Then who would be left to oppose the heroes?
This decision had been dropped into Mari’s lap. She was the only one who knew that the Chronoses were sentient now. If she just kept her mouth shut, it would be as if none of it were true.
Should she speak up, or should she stay silent? For whose sake? Obviously, for Charon’s.
“What does Charon have to do with me…?” she muttered, sulking. No one answered her.
The members of Charon were the only people who could use Chronoses without suffering rebounds. The reason for this still wasn’t clear.
But there was one thing that Mari knew for certain: It was their fault that this had happened to Kaguya. They had placed too much responsibility on her shoulders, and the weight had broken her.
First, Charon had stolen Kaguya from Mari, and now, they had left her like this. That was exactly why Mari hated Tactical Infantry.