Chapter 0.9

Despite her initial objections, Reiko and her team were swiftly relieved of any remaining responsibilities. A medical team cleared them of serious injuries. Director Arataki organized a separate squad to chase after the fleeing phantasm, while the remainder canvassed the ritual site and began collecting evidence.

“The mages under my command have the situation under control,” Arataki said. “We have the anomaly on the run. We’ll have it cornered by tomorrow morning. You and your team should get some rest.”

“You’re underestimating that thing, director. It’s Taboo. Who knows what reaction the imaginarium will have with it–”

“And you’re underestimating the commission and your senior mages. Do you think you were being subtle, captain, luring Sakurai to the garden? You think we wouldn’t notice the imaginarium he bled into headquarters?”

“So you were spying on us?” Reiko asked. “Then letting the Brideskiller finish that ritual was a severe risk, Director. Your people could’ve stepped in to stop it–”

“You have your orders,” Arataki shrugged. “I have mine.”

Bullshit, Reiko thought.

The director must have somehow heard her thoughts, because he leaned forward to mutter into her ear.

“Look, you solved a case I didn’t think you guys could solve. Let’s call this a solid ‘I owe you one,’ and just let the commission handle the rest. You have other things to attend to tonight, I’m sure.”

Arataki motioned towards her wounded juniors. Reiko knew better than to put up a fight she couldn’t win.

After their checkup, her juniors had been asked to stand off to the side, and the three chose to arrange themselves on a bench next to a dim lamppost.

Miyuki busied herself by wrapping bandages around her wounds and wiped as much dirt off of her shoes as possible. Fujiko sat still, as if meditating. Mamoru bent over his seat, his head downcast. His hands clenched around an imaginarium weapon.

Reiko found herself at a loss. She had forgotten how to comfort people, how to cheer them up, in situations like this.

“You three did well tonight,” she said.

“You knew the Brideskiller would be here,” Fujiko said, “didn’t you?”

“I did,” Reiko nodded.

“Then this was also a test?” Fujiko asked.

“It was.”

“I failed then, didn’t I?” Mamoru muttered and dispersed his weapon. “I didn’t do anything.”

Reiko shook her head.

“No,” she said. “The person who gets to decide who passes this test, is you.”

“Right,” Mamoru rolled his eyes.

“This was a case that needed solving,” Reiko explained, “but I saw nothing wrong with using it, as dangerous as it was, to show you three the work that we do here in Section Eight.”

“And in case you forgot, the Egregore are coming,” she continued. “All seven of them, more powerful than the Brideskiller, than me, than anyone you’ve ever met. If tonight was too much for you, then quit. Don’t show up tomorrow. But if you think you have what it takes, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Reiko decided to end it there and take off.

Halfway down the path, she heard hurried, uneven footsteps racing behind her.

“Captain! Captain!” Miyuki’s voice called after her. “Captain Nakamura!”

Reiko turned around.

“What is it, Kobayashi?”

“I’d like to ask–” Miyuki stopped herself. “Sorry. I’ll just get straight to the point. Back there. During the battle. I couldn’t help but notice. The mark on your back. You’ve committed Taboo, haven’t you?”

Reiko smiled.

“You haven’t gotten the point, Kobayashi,” she replied. “You’re not asking me if I’ve committed Taboo. You’re asking me what Taboo did I commit?”

“...Yes,” Miyuki said. “I’m sorry.”

Reiko patted Miyuki on the shoulder, then walked off again.

“Stick around,” she said, “and maybe one day you’ll find out.”

Miyuki Kobayashi watched Reiko disappear into the night. She considered pursuing her captain further, but decided she would press the matter again when she had more information. She returned to the bench by the lamppost, where she spotted both Fujiko and Mamoru preparing to leave.

“You two are going home?” she asked. “Have you two decided if you’ll stay?”

Mamoru said nothing at first. He walked by her with his shoulders slumped, hands folded in his coat pockets like an embarrassed child. He stopped and stared at her. Any notes of envy in his eyes from before had been erased.

“Earlier,” he said. “You called me by my first name, didn’t you, Kobayashi?”

“Did I?” Miyuki blushed and laughed. “Sorry. Everything was so sudden. I must have forgotten–”

“I’m sorry for calling you a nerd,” Mamoru muttered. “I won’t do it again.”

Miyuki watched him until he walked out of sight.

“...Mamoru is surprisingly sensitive, isn’t he?” Miyuki wondered aloud. “What do you think, Kazama?”

Fujiko shrugged.

“I don't care. I’m going home,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once alone, Miyuki lingered at the crime scene. She watched Director Arataki’s people comb the field and place miscellaneous, useless objects into glass vials and plastic bags.

She tried to glean what they were trying to do.

She couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“I wish I could have asked him how he did it,” Miyuki sighed. “Or rather, I should have asked him who taught him how to do it.”

And so, after adjusting her pink ribbons, dusting off the frills of her white dress, and wrapping new bandages around her hand, Miyuki stood up and skipped down the path and out of the garden, humming in the dead of night, a bubbly, magical heroine’s theme to herself.