The automated voice from the screen interrupted Mari before she could finish.
“Addendum—the probable identity of the previous hero has now been ascertained. Transmission of dossier to follow.”
The image on the screen changed to a still close-up of a teenage boy with an innocuous expression. He was obviously a civilian, dressed in an ordinary school uniform that bore absolutely no connection to combat.
“Name: Souta Terashima. Age: sixteen years old. Subject was a student at a nearby high school and is believed to have thrown himself on the train tracks at Ikebukuro Station before transforming—”
“Into a hero,” Kaguya said softly, finishing the automated voice’s sentence.
A hero—a hideous and terrifying monster. An affront to the country and its people.
But before he became a hero, Souta Terashima had been just a typical, run-of-the-mill high school boy—such incidents were becoming more and more commonplace throughout Japan, with each and every passing day.
Kaguya knew what was at stake. She spoke with a determined gaze.
“That’s why I’m trying to find a way to turn them back into humans,” Kaguya said, steely-eyed.
Mari, however, didn’t seem surprised. After all, heroes were originally human just like she and Kaguya were—that much was common knowledge.
That was the last, and most important, defining feature of these strange creatures.
All heroes were originally human.
Despite their appearance, despite how many people they killed, and despite the fact that adults couldn’t see them, every hero had started out as a human. There was surveillance footage and multiple eyewitness accounts to support this, making it a well-known fact among those who were underage—or at the very least, among members of the Extermination Bureau.
Of course, these infrequent eyewitness accounts came from minors, so the police didn’t take the reports seriously. The Extermination Bureau was mostly culled from such young people, who had managed to survive while burying their anger deep inside.
The hero who appeared at Ikebukuro Station had been a local high school student. He had turned into a hero after throwing himself onto the tracks.
“Even a monster like that was a human once, just like we are—the same thing could happen to us, or our loved ones, someday,” said Kaguya. “So if there’s any chance to turn them back, however small, I need to see that chance through.”
“Lieutenant…”
“Not that many agree with my way of thinking!” Kaguya laughed before turning back to her food.
She had already polished off two of the meals, which left just the third. This, however, was the main event. Lunch Set B. The plate was piled cartoonishly high with slices of breaded and fried pork cutlets. It looked more like something you might expect to be eaten by a baseball player after a heavy day of practice, rather than by a scientist in a white lab coat.
Kaguya easily polished off the third plate. She didn’t even seem full.
“It’s true that not many people in the Bureau think the way you do,” Mari began quietly as she watched her. “But I wish they would. It would be a kind of grace, for the people who become heroes.”
“Mari…”
“I don’t like to think about it, but I know it could happen to me someday, too.” Mari smiled sadly. “So I don’t care what anyone else says, Lieutenant. I think what you’re doing…”
Mari suddenly trailed off midsentence.
Kaguya looked up from her tonkatsu and turned toward Mari, who was now staring open-mouthed.
“Mari? What is it?”
“I…um…”
Mari’s expression was difficult to describe. Kaguya turned around slowly, realizing that Mari was staring at something behind her. Kaguya was a little curious about what had managed to get her colleague so tongue-tied—
“Huh…?”
A teenage girl, whom Kaguya didn’t recognize, was standing there.
She was tall, boyish, and extremely attractive, with light pink hair and soft emerald-green eyes. Between her strong features, her height, and her slim, stylish figure, she was like a female Prince Charming. She could have easily played the male role in a Takarazuka-style play.
“Sorry… Who are you…?” Kaguya muttered reflexively.
She stared wide-eyed at the handsome young woman who smiled and placed a hand to her own chest.
“I am Second Lieutenant Sakura Arakawa with the Tactical Infantry Branch. Which of you is Lieutenant Kaguya Shinohara?”
After a brief pause, both Mari and Kaguya pointed to Kaguya.
The girl named Sakura bent over at the waist and made eye contact with Kaguya. For some reason, Kaguya felt herself squirm under the gaze of those clear green eyes.
“My apologies for arriving unannounced, Technical Lieutenant.”
“Er? Uh…”
Sakura’s voice was clear and confident. Enough to make Kaguya feel uncomfortable.
“Forgive me for interrupting your meal, ma’am, but could I have a moment of your time to speak with you?”
“O-of course… You don’t need to be so formal, though… We’re not even in the same division.”
“Really…? Phew, that’s a relief. Honestly, I’m not too comfortable with protocol,” Sakura said cheerfully as she straightened up again.
Kaguya was dumbfounded. Comfortable or not, Sakura seemed to have her decorum down to a fine point. Kaguya didn’t think she had ever encountered a person like this before.
“But what would a second lieutenant from Tactical Infantry be doing here…?” Kaguya wondered aloud.
Sakura cocked her head. “Sorry, you haven’t heard? About next month’s transfer?”
“Transfer?” Kaguya narrowed her eyes. It was the last word she expected to hear come out of this girl’s mouth. “What are you talking about? I haven’t heard anything about a transfer.”
“I had a feeling you might not have gotten the news…,” Sakura said, laughing.
As far as Kaguya could tell, this second lieutenant wasn’t with Personnel. Things were getting stranger by the moment.
Sakura smiled uncomfortably. “It did seem odd to me that you hadn’t responded to the notice yet. I mean, I can hardly imagine you’d just ignore something like that for two whole weeks.”
“Two weeks…?”
“Yes. We sent a letter two weeks ago. Beginning next month, which is to say, as of tomorrow—”
Just then, the previously quiet cafeteria erupted in commotion. Kaguya, Mari, and Sakura looked toward the surge of new people approaching.