Chapter 1.4

“This will be our base operations for the duration of Castle Gramarye’s stay.”

After their park outing, Kanna escorted Reiko and directed the rest of Section Eight to the shopping center below Odori Park.

Aurora Town’s shops had all been shuttered. Its central plaza had been converted to a mobile command center where rows of monitors filled up the empty halls broadcasting Central Sapporo’s skies and streets.

The command room was powered by an array of portable batteries and power stations planted above. Much like below ground, Odori Park had been cleared of civilians. Reiko heard the rumbling of additional heavy trucks rolling into the plaza.

“This is an emergency alert from the Municipal Government of Sapporo,” broadcasted the citywide J-Alert. “Residents who are observing the scheduled arrival of Castle Gramarye should move immediately to their designated observation areas. Please follow the instructions of on-site staff and security personnel. All other residents are asked to remain indoors. Close windows and stay away from glass surfaces. Do not stand on balconies or rooftops. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“What’s wrong with standing on your balcony?” Mamoru asked.

“Aside from the increased magic density,” Kanna replied, “Castle Gramarye is a real, physical object. When it descends to Sapporo, the resulting turbulence and air pressure can cause glass to shatter, and we’ll likely get wind speeds close to that of a strong typhoon. Doesn’t take a genius to imagine what might happen to someone who’s unprepared.”

“But that shouldn’t happen,” Miyuki argued. “Sapporo’s mages can counteract physical abnormalities as a consequence of the castle’s descent. That’s what happens at every tea party.”

“Mrs. Samukawa here,” Reiko explained, “is not interested in deploying the Commission’s mages for the city’s security.”

“Excuse me?” Miyuki’s eyes turned incredulous.

“Sapporo will get on just fine without them,” Kanna shrugged. “If there’s anything my people somehow can’t handle, I’ll leave it to Captain Nakamura and Section Eight.”

“And there you have it,” Reiko motioned for her juniors to follow her. “Mrs. Polar Bear, we’ll talk again after the descent.”

Reiko led her team down the shopping district until they reached the t-crossed intersection at the transit concourse. There, the rows of surveillance monitors ended and what remained were broad lights and untread ceramic tiles.

“This should be far enough,” Reiko murmured. “I want to go over our responsibilities now. Mrs. Samukawa’s pristine preparations aside, I want us to be ready in the event something goes awry.”

“Are we not running the Egregore’s security anymore?” Miyuki frowned.

“Mrs. Samukawa’s responsibility concerns the protection of Sapporo,” Reiko replied. “She’s left the security of the actual event to us, but we can talk about that more once the witches are actually here.”

“You’re worried something’s going to go wrong?” Mamoru asked.

“Something always goes wrong when Egregore are involved,” Reiko said. “As I see it, there are two primary risks. For starters, I don’t trust the imaginarium projections that Mrs. Samukawa showed us.”

“Right,” Miyuki said. “I noticed that too. The model of magical density is way too uniform. Mrs. Samukawa is assuming that Sapporo’s shift away from The Now will be distributed evenly across the city. That’s a bit optimistic if you ask me.”

“For the first time, I’ve actually heard about this,” Mamoru laid a hand on his chin. “It’s like when I create things out of imaginarium. If you don’t evenly spread magic across the instruments, like my guns, for instance, they misfire.”

“Exactly,” Reiko nodded. “If we’re lucky, people will just lose parts of their homes when the imaginarium distorts Sapporo’s temporality. If we’re not, people might be shifted out of the city with no way to return.”

“Seems like a bit of an oversight for a lady who thinks she’s got it all figured out,” Mamoru shuddered.

“Any mage could tell you that scientific principles don’t apply to imaginarium,” Miyuki rolled her eyes. “But in Mrs. Samukawa’s case…”

“Her skepticism is both a blessing and a curse,” Reiko finished. “Fortunately, the solution to this problem is rather easy. Mrs. Samukawa doesn’t even have to know that we’re helping her. As Miyuki mentioned, the mages of each host nation typically calibrate the fallout of imaginarium upon arrival to ensure this doesn’t happen. We’re a bit short on hands, but fortunately we have someone who can do it all on their own.”

Fujiko Kazama had remained silent through this and the earlier exchange. While Mamoru and Miyuki stood next to Reiko, Fujiko kept a relative distance, choosing to lean against a shuttered jewelry store several meters away.

But at the mention of their predicament, Reiko couldn’t help but notice that the girl’s ears perked. While her irises stayed concealed, a subtle shift beneath her eyelids suggested that Fujiko had given the conversation her full attention.

Sorry, Reiko thought to herself. Not this time.

Or ever.

“It’s me,” she smirked. Fujiko’s right eye twitched. “I at least have some experience. I was in Frankfurt during the ascension of the Egregore Gentiane. I helped the German Intelligence Service pacify the imaginarium storm during her ascension.”

“The Librarian,” Miyuki gasped and shook the closest human (Mamoru) shoulder. “Her ascension took the longest of any Egregore to date. Her Question, which we still don’t know anything about, took almost a month!”

“I’m so happy for you,” Mamoru groaned.

“What are the rest of us supposed to do?” Fujiko finally spoke.

“I mentioned two risks, didn’t I?” Reiko replied. “Ground zero for Castle Gramarye’s arrival is at the former Hokkaido Government Office. The main observation post for civilians is the building’s front lawn. I’m sure Mrs. Polar Bear has arranged for extra protection, but I think we should station two of you there, just in case.”

“She couldn’t have just called it off?” Mamoru asked.

“People like feeling in control of their own destinies,” Reiko shrugged. “And to disallow people from witnessing a tea party up close would be a tacit admission that Mrs. Samukawa and Samukawa Group cannot protect Sapporo without the help of magic.”

“As for who to send,” Reiko continued. “Kobayashi. You’re up.”

“M’am!” Miyuki held back a toothy grin and saluted.

“And Fujimoto,” Reiko said. “If you’re up for it, you follow Kobayashi’s lead. Anything she says, you do.”

“Right,” Mamoru muttered. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“And what about me?” an urgency lurked in Fujiko’s voice.

“You’ll stay here,” Reiko replied. “We need someone in the command center who can observe what’s happening on the monitors. You’ll radio us if there’s any other anomalies.”

“But–”

“You all have your orders,” Reiko cut her off. “Let’s get to it.”

Miyuki grabbed Mamoru by the hand and skipped off towards the nearest escalator. Fujiko predictably stayed behind. Reiko imagined Fujiko’s eyes sharp and brooding, inflamed by bursts of lavender.

“Reiko,” Fujiko approached her.

Reiko sighed.

“That’s Captain Nakamura to you, Kazama.”

“You’re excluding me from the mission.”

“I’m not. You have a role that I’ve assigned you.”

“A role that involves not using magic.”

“Section Eight isn’t about using magic,” Reiko corrected. “We’re here to prevent magical crimes. That means, in the best case scenario, I’d hope to not use magic at all.”

“You’re being obtuse,” Fujiko said. “I knew something was strange when you never asked me during my exam. This is about my eyes, isn’t it? What do you know about them?”

“I know as much as anybody else, which is to say very little,” Reiko wouldn’t have thought that Kazuo’s excuse would have been of use to her. “And this isn’t about you, Kazama, it’s about what the team needs.”

“And you don’t think you need me with you?” Fujiko asked.

“I know I don’t,” Reiko replied. “Stay here, Kazama. That’s an order. Radio me if you see anything strange.”

Reiko brushed past Fujiko. It was her hope to end the conversation here. They could speak more later, maybe when this had all blown over, when the Egregore left, and flickers of the past could surface without the shadow of imaginarium looming above them.

But Fujiko possessed no such intentions.

“I know who you saw, captain.”

Reiko froze.

“The phantasm birthed by the Brideskiller,” Fujiko whispered. “I know who you saw behind the mask. If you let me, I can–”

Fujiko recoiled. Through closed eyes, the image of a death cold glare forced its way into her mind.

“Bribing a superior officer is grounds for dismissal, Kazama,” Reiko muttered. “Don’t ever try that again.”

Reiko continued walking. The station exit was close. Once was she was there, she could head to the roof of the prefecture headquarters and prepare for the descent of Castle Gramarye. Until then, a fear gripped her, a fear that if she released the pressure on her teeth drawing blood from her lower lip, her mouth would spring open, and a Question she had not asked herself in over a decade would worm its way once more into The Now.