Prologue
Summer vacation was ending. One week from now, the summer vacation of her second year of high school would come to a close; just thinking about it brought a sigh to Chidori Kaname’s lips.
She was a girl with a slender face and well-sculpted features... but right now, she was listless. She was in that time of year after you’d had all the usual summer fun, and your wallet lay empty and bare; these were the dog days of summer.
Kaname wasn’t spending much time with friends, either. One was busy with a part-time job at a toy store, one had a schedule packed with summer courses at prep school, one was going on a trip with her boyfriend... And here she was at school, melting in the heat.
She was preparing for the culture festival, which was still over a month away from now. Dressed in her gym clothes, she was sprawled like a vagrant on a plastic tarp in an empty hallway. It was shady here, and well ventilated, and the floor was cool; the student council room was a steam bath, thanks to a broken air conditioner.
Kaname was lying on her front, flipping through budget documents. Ahh... what’s the point? she wondered. Her eyes skimmed over various items: imitation vellum, packing tape, lumber; each one was attached to some barely-meaningful value. What the heck am I doing here? Right now, Kyoko’s working part-time and learning about the world. Mizuki is at prep school. Shiori is with her boyfriend in the Izu Highlands... ugh, that tramp.
I want some memories, too, she lamented. Something fiery and passionate. Something so impactful that I’ll remember this summer for as long as I live! And yet, summer was reaching its end, and nothing seemed to matter. Those were the thoughts that ran through her mind as she pored over page after page.
Then suddenly, she stopped. “What the heck?”
What had caught her attention was the construction invoice for the “Venue Entry Gate.” This exhibit, which was to be attached to the school’s front gate, was given a new design every year and was one of their festival’s most defining features. Last year, the art club had designed it with a “peace” motif, creating a 3D collage of doves taking flight. Typically, the construction costs ran about 70,000 or 80,000 yen, but this year’s gate seemed excessive:
Entry gate construction cost: 1,476,000 yen.
It was written, nonchalantly, in a handwriting she recognized. His handwriting.
“What the hell are they building down there?!” Kaname felt her body animate with motivation born from rage. She jumped to her feet, flew like an arrow down the hall, and headed for the dojo in the courtyard.
This area behind the dojo had become the de facto place to store materials for upcoming events—and indeed, when she arrived, she found several sweaty male students there, hard at work on building the gate. It would take a long time to finish, so the festival’s executive committee had started on it over summer break.
“Wh-What in the...” Seeing the entry gate in progress for the first time, her eyes widened in shock. It was less of a gate and more of a fortress—a watchtower, even. It had a massive metal frame that stood about two stories tall. It was covered here and there with lead-colored plates, heavy rivets, and long, narrow gunports. It seemed designed for one sole purpose: to intimidate all who stood before it.
The air reeked of burnt iron. All around her sat rows of metal plates, steel bars, electronics, and generators. Her ears were assaulted by the roars of electric drills and blowtorches.
“Okay, who’s in charge? Get out here!” Kaname commanded.
The foreman peeked his head out from behind the steel gate. He was wearing dingy work gloves and a safety helmet with a face shield. Beneath it, she could see disheveled black hair and a sullen face marked by a tight frown; she recognized him immediately as Sagara Sousuke. “Chidori?” he blinked. “What’s the matter?”
“Sousuke!” she said. “What the hell are you doing?!”
Sousuke looked confused. “I’m building the culture festival gate. Just what it looks like.”
“It so does not look like that! Explain this!”
He folded his arms calmly as he looked up at the “entry gate” in progress. “I’d heard that the gate’s motif last year was ‘peace.’ I thought this year’s might be ‘security.’ This gate will protect the public, serving a dual function in both observation and defense. You see similar structures in cities in Northern Ireland and Palestine.”
“This isn’t Northern Ireland or Palestine!” Kaname wailed. “It’s Tokyo!”
“Not an issue,” he responded. “We plan to add emplacements, searchlights, and loudspeakers by the time we’re finished. It should hold out for quite some time against the kind of armed terrorist attack that might target a crowded festival.” Sousuke had grown up on battlefields overseas, and he still didn’t grasp how things worked here in a place as peaceful and safe as Japan. He couldn’t get it through his head that the chance of terrorists attacking a school’s culture festival were almost nil.
“We’ll be more likely to see the police than terrorists!” she howled.
“That’s fine. Not even police equipment will be able to destroy this gate.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Of course, its presence will disincline terrorists to interfere at all. Its greatest strength is as a deterrent,” Sousuke put in thoughtfully. “Festival visitors will rest easy when they see this gate.”
“Rest easy?” Kaname asked incredulously. The looming “entry gate” projected an aura of menace; no one was going to “rest easy” in its presence. “And so you requested 1.5 million yen for this monstrosity?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I believe I can get an excellent price on Israeli-made composite armor. A French arms dealer acquaintance of mine told me that typically you’d have to spend over 5 million—”
Whap! Kaname slammed the wad of documents she was holding onto Sousuke’s head.
Sousuke stared in silence. “Where did that come from?”
“You suck!” Kaname yelled. “Don’t you know what our budget is? It’s 1.5 million yen! You know what happens if we follow your crazy plan? We get the most surreal school festival ever! A festival with some looming fortress at the gate and no exhibits past it!”
“Hmm...” he frowned.
“No armor plating! Use plywood! Yeesh...” Kaname muttered, walking around the metal gate. She had to admit that the framework looked solid. They’d obviously been working hard on it, but...
Why does he have to spend all his energy in the most pointless directions? After letting out her umpteenth sigh that day, she was just about to stroll through the gate itself, when...
“No! Chidori, don’t—”
“Huh?” Her right foot stepped on some kind of button. The bare nozzle just above her head began to tremble, and she was hit with a cloud of red particles. It was some kind of paint, spraying her from all sides. Soon, she could see nothing but the crimson fog all around her.
“Too late...” Sousuke whispered, dispersing the mist with the blueprints in his hand. As it cleared, they could see Kaname standing there, pitifully, as red as pollack roe.
She coughed. “Wh-What did you...”
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