Chapter 52: History Doesn’t Speak

《…Hmm, what should we do, I wonder…》

It was the next day—Saturday.
I was lying around in my room, lazily turning over ideas about what to do next.

Of course, the incident had been safely resolved.
While chasing after Misaka-san, who had run off midway, I lost track of Kamijou-san. I was wandering around on my own when I ran into Accelerator—who had somehow already taken Misaka-san down. He warned me, “Don’t you dare tell that guy about this,” and made me promise not to spill anything.
Well, despite that little scene, things wrapped up more or less without issue.

That said, since we’d made such a huge commotion, it naturally took time. And given that all of it happened during dinnertime on a Friday, the government office had long since closed by the time we were done.
Even though Academy City is a student town and keeps its public service counters open a bit longer than the ‘outside’ world for students finishing class… that extension really is just “a bit.”

As a result, we weren’t able to obtain Kamijou-san’s exit permit.
Which meant the planned “engagement annulment” for this weekend was put on indefinite hold.

That in itself wasn’t a big deal. The problem was what came after…

『…Oh? So the exit permit’s getting canceled… at the last minute.』

…See, we had already gotten our own exit permits approved (after a considerable amount of begging and pleading), so canceling them stirred up a bit of friction with the dorm supervisor.
Or rather, not so much “friction” as…

『…I’ll say this as the dorm supervisor—I’ll be putting my foot down when it comes to poorly thought-out exit requests. But more than that, Blackguard, the issue here is your reliability when it comes to procedures. Now that a “precedent” like this exists, the admin folks are going to be wary of more cancellations. Don’t be surprised if getting approval becomes harder for you going forward.』

…was how it was put.

《Dorm supervisors really are inflexible. It’s not as if we wanted to cancel either! I mean, if an incident was happening, then Misaka should’ve relied on us much sooner…》

《Now, now, Reicia-chan. I’m sure Mikoto-san was really in a tight spot.》

To be fair, part of the blame lies with me too. I let my guard down and completely ignored all the residual Remnant-related business.

Still, what we really need to be thinking about right now isn’t that. It’s—

《The issue is, how do we break off the engagement without going outside?》

See, the reason we were planning to go out in the first place was because we thought that something like an engagement annulment absolutely needed to be done face-to-face.
I mean, we’re backing out of a promise, after all. It felt like that kind of thing ought to be discussed in person.

But if getting outside is going to be difficult for a while… well, honestly, I do intend to keep sticking my nose into anything Kamijou-san gets involved in. Which means it might be tough to deal with this annulment business before the end of the year.

《In that case… it’s time for Plan B.》

That’s when Reicia-chan suddenly dropped a curious line.

《Plan B?》

《Yes. I’d hoped to go ourselves and resolve things face-to-face, to leave them no openings to exploit…》

Her expression turned into a confident smirk.
I could feel my own face pulling into a matching grin—definitely being influenced by her mood.

And then, still riding that smug vibe, Reicia-chan declared:

《If we can’t go to them, then they can come to us.》

Chapter 1 – The Wind Never Blows for the Barrelmaker
Psicopics.
Episode 43: History Doesn’t Speak – Extraordinary_Actor

And that’s how, led by Reicia-chan’s initiative, we set out.

《So, where exactly are we headed again?》

《To meet with a “collaborator.”》

《Collaborator?》

Collaborator…? Wait, I thought this engagement stuff was strictly a Blackguard family matter. Are there outside collaborators involved?

《I believe I mentioned before—my fiancé is from a company involved in cyborg-related industries, yes? Cyborgs are a dying field due to their costly upkeep and maintenance. These days, only places like Academy City take cyborg development seriously.》

《…Ahh.》

《Exactly. As you guessed, that company might look independent on paper, but in truth it’s completely propped up by Academy City—it’s one of those so-called “Academy City Affiliated Institutions.” Which means, of course, the real power players are within Academy City. And! I! Have! Personal connections with one of those power players! Ta-da!!》

《Ooh… that’s genuinely impressive…》

The fact that she can bust out a casual “ta-da!!” like that shows that her nerd education is coming along just fine. Fufufu.
Wait—no, that’s not the point right now!

《…I don’t recall seeing that in your diary.》

《Well, obviously. Shiren, do you really think I write everything that happens in a day into my diary?》

《I mean… I kinda thought you did…》

《Tsk tsk tsk. You’re too naïve, Shiren. For instance, take The Pillow Book by Sei Shōnagon, a famous collection of essays. Within it, there are sections known as “diary-style entries,” which were written for her patron, Empress Teishi, and are believed to contain deeply political motives. Or take The Tosa Diary, which was penned under the guise of a woman’s perspective—it clearly catered to readers. Diaries in the Heian period, you see, often served as how-to manuals for future generations of nobility, preserving traditions and court practices…》

《Ah—yeah! Okay! Let’s put the history lesson on hold for now!》

《Muu… just when I was getting started… But to put it simply, someone in a public role like myself writes diaries with the expectation that they might be made public someday! In fact, that diary was supposed to serve as a record of my rise through the Tokiwadai hierarchy, chronicling my success story as I took command of my “faction”…》

《Kinda funny, considering most of what you wrote in it would cause a wildfire if made public.》

《T-That was… well… I didn’t exactly think that far ahead at the time……》

…Well, I guess you could say she wasn’t completely consistent with that principle—there were some… stains on the last page, and other spots where her discretion wavered.
But I suppose, from Reicia-chan’s perspective, that was the intent.

As for her calling herself a public figure—at this point, I’ve long since given up trying to comment on that.

《Anyway! While I didn’t write it in my diary since it wasn’t relevant to my development, I do have a collaborator within Academy City! If I recall correctly, she’s a second-year student at Shinshikimi Middle School in District 20.》

《And her name?》

I gave up trying to poke holes in her logic and asked a straight question instead.
It’d be pretty awkward going to meet someone when I didn’t even know their name.
Not that it really matters—Reicia-chan’s handling the negotiations, after all, so it’s not like I need to know.

Regardless, Reicia-chan answered smoothly:

《Kuriwa Ryoko Ayahashi. She’s something of a celebrity in the field of cyborg research, you know?》

Reicia-chan and Ayahashi-san first met two years ago.

At the time, Reicia-chan was showing around her then-fiancé, who already had close ties to the Blackguard conglomerate, during a visit to Academy City. Because Ayahashi was a girl of a similar age, the research institution introduced her to them—that’s how it all began.

Though Ayahashi-san was a pure researcher type and Reicia-chan leaned more toward the employer side of things, which meant they didn’t exactly click, the fact that Ayahashi belonged to a subsidiary under her fiancé’s company helped smooth things over.
Back then, Reicia-chan didn’t act like the domineering tyrant she normally was toward her “faction” or her own developer. She apparently kept up a more polite, restrained front.

Reicia’s connections with the institution itself fizzled out to a mere acquaintance-level relationship, so it can’t really be called a useful “network” anymore. But since her interaction with Ayahashi had always been under the guise of civility, their relationship never soured—and apparently, they’d still been exchanging emails to this day. (Well, at least until the whole suicide incident.)

This time, Reicia-chan intended to make use of her connection with Ayahashi-san to bypass the research institute entirely and make direct contact with her fiancé.

《So… is this really gonna be okay?》

《What are you referring to? If it’s the location of the research facility, I already know it. I’ve been there several times before.》

《Yeah, I figured that, but… isn’t Ayahashi-san just a researcher? And she’s our age, too, right? Can we really rely on her to act as a liaison with the company and do, like, diplomacy stuff?》

《Oh, there’s no need to worry about that. Aside from the initial handoff, I’ll be handling everything myself. That girl’s hopeless when it comes to things like negotiation—if I left it all to her, it’d only make things worse.》

《Hmm…》

Ah, I see.

And yeah, now that I think about it, Reicia-chan really does seem like the type who’d be good at behind-the-scenes maneuvering and negotiation stuff…
Which, incidentally, is exactly why she was able to do whatever she pleased until Mikoto finally smacked her down.

《Well then, we’ve arrived.》

While I was half-dozing and turning over thoughts in my head, I suddenly realized there was a high-rise building standing right in front of us.

…A high-rise?

《This is the place? Kinda just looks like your average office building…》

《Everything except the top floor is a security-zoned area meant to block intruders. Of course, if someone came from the outside, they could bypass it easily. It’s not much of a countermeasure against high-level espers.》

Oh, I see.
Yeah, I guess when you put it that way, placing it up high might actually be safer than having it on the ground.
I don’t know the first thing about how Academy City handles its research facilities… Might be a good idea to start asking more about this stuff from time to time.

Even though I’ve got Reicia-chan around to back me up, I don’t want to blurt out something stupid and embarrass myself when it counts.

“Now then… Long time no see. This is Reicia Blackguard, if you recall. I’m hoping you can connect me with Ayahashi.”

As I stood there lost in thought, Reicia-chan picked up the front desk phone and started contacting someone inside the facility.
But judging from the voice on the other end, things weren’t looking too promising.

『Ah, uh… Blackguard-san. Long time no see. But actually, Ayahashi-kun isn’t at the lab right now…』

“What!? Is that so? That research-addict is… Where on earth is she, then? At the dorm?”

『No, I believe… she mentioned she was renting a place or something. I’m sorry, we haven’t been given the exact location either. Her current research is at a good stopping point, and she said she wanted some time to rest. She’s our hero, after all! So, of course, we want to respect her wishes!』

…Huh. The tone just now seemed kind of... upbeat.
They said her research had hit a milestone—maybe Ayahashi-san managed to produce some promising results or something?

“I see… Thank you very much.”

『If you needed something from Ayahashi-kun, I can try contacting her for you—ah, no, don’t worry about it. That call just now? It was from someone unrelated. It has nothing to do with A-ya-ha-shi-kun, got it?』

“…Director?”

『N-No! Forget I said anything! It’s nothing, really! I’m a little… busy right now, so I’ll have to go! Talk later!』

“Ah—!”

And just like that, the call was cut off.
…Wait a second—Director?

《Reicia-chan, who was that just now?》

《The director of this research facility. I am a rather important VIP, you know? If I place a call, it’s only natural someone at the director level would respond.》

《Let’s try not to bother the staff too much from now on. It’s a nuisance for them.》

《Eeeeh… but it kind of hurts my image if I don’t… …Well, I suppose if I have to…》

Good, that’s a win.
These tiny little acts of tyranny are exactly what get Reicia-chan in trouble.
Next time we drop by, I should probably take the lead and offer the researchers an apology.

…Now then.

The real issue wasn’t just that.

《…The director was talking to A-ya-ha-shi-san just now, wasn’t he?》

《That’s certainly how it sounded. I’ve no idea why he’d try to hide her presence from us, though…》

The reason was unclear.
We didn’t know what Ayahashi-san was up to, either—and it wasn’t necessarily anything bad.

But the director’s behavior was definitely evasive, and it reeked of something shady.
I can’t just jump to conclusions… but walking away and pretending we didn’t notice? That feels just as dangerous.
Worst case, Ayahashi-san might be involved in something serious.

《In any case, Plan B requires Ayahashi’s cooperation. For now, let’s track her movements.》

It seemed Reicia-chan had come to the same conclusion I had, and made her decision without hesitation.

And I, once again, found myself following the lead of her ever-commanding will.