April 27th, 2037
Konoe Hana and Katsuji Hisa
6:30 AM
The Student Council Room/“The War Room”
Public opinion of the Student Council varied, but for the most part, they were seen as the untouchable, diligent workers for Akashi, and the majority of them had such poise and presence as to appear far above the people they were meant to serve.
On the other hand, the public had never attended a Student Council meeting. Regardless of their diligent nature, the fact remained that the Student Council was composed of teenagers, and having teenagers attend morning meetings tended to fare poorly for all. Case in point: the Student Council President, Amagase Kyrie, was badly trying to stifle a yawn just now, her head precariously close to the table. Perhaps, if you waited it out, she’d fall asleep and the meeting would be canceled?
Well, considering how everyone else was at least a bit more awake, that was unlikely. Out of the eleven Student Council members present, at least three seemed to be at ease in the morning: the two Kendo Club representatives, Mitsurugi Tsubaki and Miyamura Tomoe, and the Treasurer himself, who was, as usual, over beside the kitchenette in the corner, getting something that would wake the President up.
The Student Council “room” was much more than that—one got the impression it was simply a remodeled apartment loft that happened to have a large meeting table in it. Work was leisurely done on couches rather than hard desks, and it had all sorts of luxuries, like the aforementioned kitchenette, a private restroom with a shower, and more.
A cup of hot chocolate appears in front of the dead-looking president, and she takes it with a drowsy sounding “Thanks.” As soon as she takes a sip, her eyes light up, and you wonder what kind of concoction could do that to a person. Straightening herself up, she clears her throat as Mishiro teleports back to his chair, his job done.
“Is everyone here?” She says, scanning the table. There are only eleven, and as usual, the only person missing is—
“Excellion’s late. Screw it, just start without him,” Vice-President Shirogane swears under his breath, and everyone quickly comes to the conclusion that waiting for Entramallis would be a huge waste of time.
Today’s topic was about club budgets, which drew the ire of nearly everyone involved. These meetings never boiled down to shouting matches, of course, but considering over half of the Student Council were club representatives of some sort, it certainly got quite heated. Tadokoro, who had looked dead when you entered, was absolutely awake at this point, trying to defend her club with the utmost passion. The others were in various states of acceptance and resignation, but almost everyone knew the gracious club budgets for Akashi would take a hit to prepare for hosting future Gemstone tournaments the populace seemed to be enamored with.
“Katsuji-chan? Konoe-chan?” The Student Council President raises her voice a bit to catch your attention, as a folder appears in front of each of you, teleported by Mishiro’s hand. “Seeing as you two aren’t closely affiliated to the other clubs, would you mind breaking the news to them later today? You’t have to do all of them, of course, but I feel it would be best if you two did it, as it would look the most impartial.”
She gives you a radiant smile that was like the sunrise on a cold morning.
Excellion Entramallis
6:58 AM
The Streets of Akashi
You were late to the meeting, as your phone planner told you. You couldn’t remember why this meeting was specifically on your planner, or why it needed six reminders, but the fact was you overslept and now you were late. Thinking about it, you probably forgot to set your alarm clock. That was it, wasn’t it?
You weren’t surprised you forgot, but you were surprised you made a good guess at what you forgot during a period that you had already forgotten. That was a medal worthy task, in your opinion.
Now you were making a mad dash in the streets, hoping that your phone’s GPS could keep up with your speed. In your other hand, you gingerly held a bowl of cereal, milk and all, trying to figure out how would put your phone back in your pocket so you could eat. The Student Council Room had a kitchenette, you had written on your mini fridge in your dorm room, so you knew exactly where to put the bowl when you were done.
Sadly, your goal of eating breakfast on the go was interrupted.
In front of you was some stranger you had never seen before, but he was in your way and for once you didn’t immediately run him over, probably because you needed to protect your cereal.
“EXCELLION ARCADIA ENTRAMALLIS!” the man screams at the top of his lungs, the throes of misguided, passionate youth in every word, “I DEMAND A FAIR AND HONORABLE DUEL, OR YOU WILL NOT MAKE IT TO CLASS.”
With that, he takes a stance and draws his Vector Armament, a simple shinai. You don’t even know how he knows your name or how he managed to cut you off, but the fact is, he did it, even though you decided to go around a few alleys instead of the normal road to school. While you were in a rush, most people seemed to think that you ruined the main road, and thus you were forbidden from using it.
The students in the area take this as a sign to scram, although a brave few pull out cellphone cameras.
“SO WHAT WILL IT BE?”
Even if you didn’t know it at the time, this was a momentous occasion.
This was a rematch for the title of the Thirty-Fifth Saint.
Nakiri Jun
7:00 AM
The Saints’ Cradle
Nobody was quite sure how the Saints’ Cradle ended up with its name, which was apparently a reference to one of the best mecha anime of all time (if the word of Tadokoro Chihaya was to be trusted). The name befit its stature, though, and the elegant white building, decked with every state of the art comfort known to man, was made to cater to the whims of the elite of the elite. In other words, the dorm for the Forty Saints of Akashi coddled them to a ridiculous degree, to the point where some had simply found their own lodging because it was just too unerringly perfect.
Or, perhaps, they didn’t want to live in such close proximity to their rivals.
You, however, had a different problem. Maria Ikazuchi-Reylander lived in these dorms. It was in your best interest and better for your mental health that you avoided seeing her, so you forced yourself to wake up earlier every day just so you could get to school unscathed by her presence. Maria, you knew, liked to sleep in and she always arrived at school on the dot. Going early, while a pain in the ass, beat the alternative of being late and risking the ire of the Public Morals Committee.
And that’s how you ended up here, on the road to school.
The road to Akashi’s prestigious main academy was well-kept, despite the fact very few people used it. Judging by design, it was tailor made to funnel in the elite students of the Saints’ Cradle while keeping them relatively undisturbed from the rest of the world—there were no alleyways to sneak away in, just the constant presence of white brick at your sides. Boring, monotone, but relatively safe. Just what most people wanted when they walked to school, much like you were doing now.
On the other hand, the glossy pane spanning the entire street was new.
You abruptly stop and turn around, because the slightly shimmering wall is in your way and you can vaguely remember who would be the cause. Said cause gives you a half-hearted smile with a quick wave when you see her, blonde ponytail swishing with every step. Hoshizora Midori, the Twenty-First Saint. The wary girl who had managed to end up being a rank above you.
“Hey,” she says, her eyes not looking at you, but rather, past you. She awkwardly stuffs her hands in the pockets of her blazer, biting her lip, before she opens her mouth again. “I don’t wanna hold up the line here, but you mind if we talk?”
Her voice manages to maintain an even tone, but she only takes hesitant steps towards you.
“I’d ask later, but I think it requires a bit more immediacy than that.” Midori sounds a bit defeated as she says this. You glance behind you. The clear barrier, Midori’s hallmark, is still in place. It seemed that escape was not an option, despite the lack of forcefulness in her words.
Matsuoka Mark
6:52 AM
Class 2-S
You sit in the second seat from the back next to the window. Your classmates are comprised of quite a few Saints and the smattering of students in the top five hundred. Your homeroom teacher is the kind of woman who drones on about her awful love life, yet still manages to give you everything you need on the exam. Every desk has a built in tablet and are quite comfortable, as much as a school desk could be. The class atmosphere isn’t very tense, despite the Placement Tournament approaching.
All in all, you were in a pretty decent class, and that’s probably why your sister urged you to come to school early, to make the best of good situations. Aika always had that problem of living through you, but putting more effort into your social life for her probably wasn’t a bad thing.
That’s why you were sitting here, listening to the awkward rumor mill Minase Yurina and fellow delinquent Toramaru Shun chat about whatever came to mind. Shun sat behind you and was the kind of guy who rarely used his brain until he was in a pinch, whereas Yurina sat to your right and managed to overhear all sorts of unlikely things that somehow turned out to be true. Maybe they weren’t the most ambitious to hang out with in Akashi—but they had your back when you needed it.
“C’mon, Yurina, there’s no way that’s true.” You’re not sure what the conversation is about now, but judging by Shun’s slightly condescending tone, it had probably taken a turn for the weird.
“Wouldn’t that explain how we all lost to the Americans in the last world tournament, though? Besides, there have been the more recent efforts to procure more funding into the JSDF, and to a foreign nation that would be worrying…” Yurina stares at her desk in thought, the touchscreen filled with various articles about the latest celebrity gossip, although something about American-Japanese relations is there as well.
“I think the idea there’s an American spy amongst the Saints is completely retarded. Back me up, Mark, unless you’re the spy in question?” Shun gives Yurina an incredulous glare and shrugs his shoulders, looking at you to provide a third party opinion. Now that the idea has been said, however, Yurina’s eyes goes wide as she flails about, before she tries shrinking into her chair ineffectively.
After a brief moment, she suddenly straightens up and starts babbling. “Did you know we’re getting a transfer student today? I heard she’s half-British and super hot and maybe she’d want to date you or me or something?”
She says this so quickly that it is only through much exposure to similar situations that you can actually parse out what Yurina is saying.
Misuzawa Malik
6:32
Civitas Headquarters
You moved out of the dorms as soon as you were able. Living in something so… excessive and clearly unequal had bothered you to no end, and you had made Civitas headquarters your place of residence. Unlike the luxurious rooms of the Saint’s Cradle, your residence was much more spartan, focused on the bare essentials. If your message was to resound clear and true, you could be nothing like those you fought against.
Speaking of those who were in your way, they had become increasingly more prominent as the school year had progressed. A Civitas rally would almost inevitably attract some sort of conflict, like the one two weeks ago, which had escalated into a fight when a more hotblooded youth assaulted a member of the Public Morals Committee over barbed words. While dealing with the fallout was a tad difficult, in the end both the Alliance and Public Morals Committee were put on the backfoot—that riot had taken more out of both than either suspected.
Regardless, despite the quiet lull afterwards, Civitas still had its fair share of problems.
“Misuzawa-sama, I’d like to report that there has been more acts of vandalism staining this building in that awful red color. In addition, someone has woken up early enough to come here and request for your help, if you are willing. Other than that, the public seems to be recovering from that unfortunate incident, so perhaps it’s time for another display?” Your secretary, Yamato Ken, rattles off a list of things, trying not to sound too opinionated. He was a Kendo Club student who had worked his way up to this with a determined diligence, and like you, he would not yield. An incident in his middle school years had made him come to loathe Akashi, and it was through this mutual hatred you two bonded.
“If there is anything you want done or addressed today, I’ll make sure it happens,” he says, with an oddly professional tone.
Minase Mizuru
6:45 AM
???
The sun was streaming through the windows, and as you groggily got up, you began to realize that no, you did not decorate your room with frilly purple curtains and lace. Tragically, you remember this is not the first time you have been moved into one of the guest-exclusive rooms of the Maze of Lilies, nor would it be your last. Would it kill Nao to make such arrangements when you were awake, with your permission?
At least the accomodations were as top-notch as ever, with only the fluffiest of pillows and the most silken of sheets. Nao prided herself on providing luxury to those in great need, and she would not skimp out on providing. Sometimes people just needed the company of a pretty girl, Nao thought, and in this morally dubious crusade she had done much more than what anyone had expected.
Thoughts of going back to sleep creep into your mind, but you brush them off. Duty first. Coincidentally, the door to your room opens at the same time—revealing a familiar face dressed up in the maid uniform you only have seen her wear.
“Ah, you’re up, Master. Lady Nao has scheduled a meeting later this morning, but it will put your attendance record at risk. Should I inform her that you have no intention of skipping class? Or would you like to do it yourself, seeing as you’ll at least be staying for breakfast?”
The personal maid Nao has assigned to you greets you with a casual cheer unbefitting of someone who is meant to serve, and she puts her hands behind her back, impatiently swaying back and forth. She looks at you expectantly, waiting for your command.
“Though if you want to be late for other reasons,” she says with a cheeky wink, “I can tell Lady Nao you had ‘business’ to attend to.”
The Public Morals Committee
6:38 AM
“The Office”
There’s not much sound in the office other than the scratching of pens. Mornings had been decreed by Director Kuroiwa to be for daily briefings and processing the various rules violations that Gemstones seemed to accrue over time. An “easy” start to the day, intended to spare them from rigorously using their brain before school. Whether or not it was successful in being that leisurely was another story, but here you three were, fiddling with paperwork.
The tranquil silence is ruined by the ticking of Mitarai’s toaster. For as long as you’ve known her, she’s routinely made buttered toast every day, at every conceivable hour possible. Try as you might, she insisted that this analog antique was necessary for “the proper way to make toast.” It was quite possibly the greatest distraction in the entire room that wasn’t a person, if one was honest.
That is, until the door burst open, accompanied a loud scream of “I’m late!”.
Mishiro Akari frantically waved her bandaged arms as she made a beeline for her desk, wincing as she did so. She was most known for her love of Disney memorabilia, her desk coated with every single souvenir from Tokyo Disney one could think of. But, most importantly…
“Glad to hear you’re feeling better,” Mitarai said, not looking up from her stack of papers as the toaster went off with a loud ding.
...Akari was hospitalized in a physical and destructive incident with Kitamura Kaede during a riot, and after a week of recuperation, she was finally free. Though, judging by how her movements seemed a bit sluggish and how even her hands still had noticeable bandages, those wounds still hadn’t completely healed.
“How’s everyone?” Akari says, trying to keep up her cheer. Mitarai slathers butter on her toast, her gloved hand deftly manipulating the silver knife, and mutters an “I’m doing well.” It’s the lack of other responses that makes you realize both Director and Vice-Director are missing this morning.
“Now that you’re here, I have a pair of cases for the all of you,” Mitarai says loudly as she gets up from her chair, before taking a bite of her food. Wordlessly, you get up and crowd over to her desk. “Orders from the Kuroiwa-san and Masahide-san, who are busy inspecting the venues for the Placement Tournament. Kimura-san is with them, leaving us five.”
“One of you is to help Mishiro-chan find Kitamura, as she has been missing for a few days and we do not condone skipping class.” She glances at Mishiro, who hangs her head low and looks a bit deflated about her new assignment. “The other two need to see what happened to Fumizuki Minami.”
She points to a desk that looks like it is in need of cleaning. It was rather spartan and professional looking compared to the more colorful desks that it’s surrounded by. Fumizuki was a fellow coworker, but she had been missing for a while, where the last thing you heard was some rumor that they were insanely ill. Though, if you were being asked to investigate…
“We want to get this matter cleared up before the Placement Tournament begins, so please do devote effort to this as soon as possible. I’ll deal with all your papers in the meantime, but feel free to call me if you find a lead. Are there any questions?”
Finishing her piece of toast, she looks at you expectantly, like a parent who hopes their children do well at a recital.
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