The Defense Force car slipped through checkpoints and gunfire alike, delivering us to the base without a scratch. What surprised me was the crowd: nearly a hundred civilians packed inside, not just us. In this waiting room alone, five strangers sat with us, eyes flicking toward the door that led deeper underground.
Is it really okay to let so many useless civilians inside while the enemy is attacking? …Will I have to fight, too?
I had zero real combat experience, but Sakurai-san swore my combat magic rivaled any adult magician. That should have calmed me. It didn't.
I stole a glance at the seat beside me. For once, Onii-sama wasn't standing behind me like a shadow; he sat shoulder-to-shoulder, trying to look ordinary. Twin CADs slept inside his jacket, ready to wake. He'd never fought in a "war," but he'd killed—far more than five or ten times. The calm on his face proved it.
Just looking at him loosened the knot in my chest. I risked one more peek.
Our eyes locked.
"(E-eh?! Why—?)"
"It's all right, Miyuki."
…!
Three days ago he'd promised to use my name. This time it wasn't the gentle mask; it was small, rough, real.
"I'm right here."
…That's cheating!
I had no idea what face to make. I settled on glaring. He shot to his feet.
(Was my glare that scary?)
No time for silly thoughts.
Sakurai-san kicked her chair back a breath later. The strangers flinched, staring at them both.
"Tatsuya-kun—"
"You heard it too?"
"Gunfire. Full-auto. Assault rifles."
"Sitrep?"
"Walls are warded—ancient boundary spell. Blocks magical sensing. Whole building's wrapped."
"Casting inside is fine, though."
A stranger—middle-aged, sweating—latched onto the word magic.
"You're magicians, right? Then it's your duty to serve humanity!"
…Still people who say that to our faces.
"Are you serious?" Sakurai-san's voice could have frozen sake.
The man doubled down.
"Magicians were made to serve! Military or not, irrelevant!"
Onii-sama stepped forward, voice dripping acid.
"Made or not, we have no obligation to serve you."
"What?!"
"Magicians exist for public welfare and order, not for random individuals who feel entitled."
"You insolent brat!"
He was quoting the International Magicians' Charter—everyone knows it. That's why his face went purple.
Onii-sama's eyes glittered with scorn and pity.
"Embarrassing yourself in front of children. Really?"
The man's own kids stared at him with pure, childish contempt.
"Also, eighty percent of magicians in this country are born and trained—bloodlines and potential awakening. Even including partial modifications, less than twenty percent are 'manufactured.' Get your facts straight."
"Tatsuya."
Mother's voice—languid, bored—cut the air.
"Go see what's happening outside."
"But if danger reaches this room, I can't protect Miyuki from a distance—"
"Miyuki? Know your place, Tatsuya."
"—My apologies."
I was the one who begged him to use my name. Yet he took the scolding alone. Her tone left no room for protest; even I swallowed my defense.
"…I'll hold the fort here," Sakurai-san said.
"Understood."
He bowed to Mother, to Sakurai-san, and walked out. Neither of them spared a glance for the trembling man or his frightened family.
The spark had finally caught. The fire was coming.
~ The Last Breath She Never Meant to Take ~
Pop-pop-pop. Firecrackers, I told myself. But my ears had already learned the difference.
Footsteps—four sets—stopped outside the door. Sakurai-san planted herself in front of Mother and me. Her bracelet CAD glowed, psions locked and loaded. Even I could feel the pressure from her back.
"Pardon the intrusion! Private First Class Kaneshiro, 2nd Airborne!"
The tension in her shoulders eased a notch. Mine did too. Rescue.
Four young soldiers—Left-Blood second-gen, same as Joe. "Underground shelter. Move."
I froze. If I left now, I'd lose Onii-sama forever.
Sakurai-san beat me to it. "One of ours is scouting. He'll be back."
The private's face soured. "Enemy's already inside. Staying is suicide."
Mother's voice drifted over, lazy as smoke. "Take the others. I'm not abandoning my son."
Sakurai-san and I swapped silent glances. Mother… protecting Tatsuya?
The strangers pressed forward, desperate. While the private argued, we whispered.
"Major Kazama could reunite us—"
"Not worried about Tatsuya," Mother cut in. "Pretext."
"Then?"
"Instinct. These men smell wrong."
Lady Lethe Mistress's instinct. My knees stopped shaking.
The private's tone shifted—polite words, threatening edge. "We can't leave anyone. Your friend will be escorted. Move."
Then—
"DICK!"
Kaneshiro fired point-blank at Joe. The others swung rifles inside. Sakurai-san's activation sequence flared— —and shattered against a screeching psion jam.
Brass ring on the fourth man's finger. Cast-jamming wave.
"Dick! Al! Mark! Ben! Why betray the corps?!"
"Japan's no homeland, Joe! We're Left-Blood—forever outsiders!"
"Wrong! They made us comrades! The unit, the brass—"
"Because you're a magician, Joe! You're useful!"
Joe's roar cracked the jam for one heartbeat.
I seized it.
Cocytus—mental freeze—locked on the ring-bearer alone. He froze mid-breath. Third human I'd ever stopped. Not dead, but might as well be. I bit my molars until they squeaked.
"YOU BITCH!"
Three rifles answered. Bullets punched through Sakurai-san, through Mother, through me. Heat—then ice. Life leaking out like bathwater.
They say you see your whole life flash. I saw only one face.
I'm sorry, Onii-sama… Now you'll be free…
"Miyuki!!"
A hallucination, surely. I smiled at the sound anyway.
Then everything went white.
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