Absent

[December 6th, 16:00 JST]

██████ Prefecture - ████████

The black van was already in motion, cutting through the highway toward a destination only a handful of people were allowed to know.

At the wheel silently sat a man in a white lab coat, his eyes fixed on the road.

In the back were two teenage girls.

Yuzuriha sat upright, the ancient stone tablet clutched tightly against her chest, her arms wrapped around it. Her expression remained blank, as if she were holding herself together the same way, afraid that any loosened grip would let everything spill out.

Across from her sat a girl no older than eighteen. She leaned back in her seat, watching Yuzuriha with open amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“You don’t have to hold it like I’m going to steal it,” she said. “We’re on the same side, remember?”

“Shut up,” Yuzuriha replied flatly. “Yuzu will never be a dog like you. Licking your Producer’s shoes.”

The smile vanished.

“How dare you—”

The girl reached for her D-Mic—

“Alice, stop.”

A calm male voice cut in over the shared channel. “You know she doesn’t belong to the Foundation. Why are you so agitated?”

Yuzuriha heard every word.

“But sir, she’s the one that started it,” Alice protested. “And why are we still using codenames when we’re not on a mission?”

“You will address me as Producer while you are on duty,” the voice replied, sterner now. “And you are on duty until she arrives at the laboratory. Team 01 operates under my command. You will be addressed by your codename accordingly.”

The line went dead.

“Tch. Stupid old man,” Alice muttered.

She leaned back in her seat, clicking her tongue before fixing Yuzuriha with a hard stare.

“Looks like even the famous Team 02 couldn’t handle someone like you,” she said mockingly. “Are they really weak? And you didn’t even say thank you for the teleport. Do you know how much focus it took to lock onto your resonance from that mess?”

She laughed softly.

“That girl—Tachibana-san, right? A Cantus Major who couldn’t take you down in a seven-versus-one. Her grade must be fake.”

The air shifted.

A sharp red gleam flared briefly in Yuzuriha’s eyes.

In one smooth motion, she leaned forward.

The black, mass-produced D-Mic was already in her hand, pressed firmly against Alice’s throat. Its relic counterpart had been returned to the white ring braided into her hair.

Her gaze held Alice in place as her voice dropped.

“You can talk about Yuzu however you like,” she said. “But if Yuzu hears one more word from your mouth insulting Yuzu’s friends...”

She paused, pressing the D-Mic more firmly against Alice’s throat.

“Yuzu will silence your song. And Yuzu will make you choke on your own resonance before you can even teleport.”

Alice stiffened, the smirk vanished, her breath caught shallow in her chest. She hadn’t expected that.

“Relax,” she said quickly, forcing a laugh. “It was just a joke.”

Yuzuriha withdrew, returning to her seat without another word.

“Friends?” Alice scoffed. “After what you did today? Don’t kid yourself. I doubt they’ll ever call you that again.”

Yuzuriha turned toward the window instead of responding.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she let Alice’s words drift past her rather than face them.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

The building was hidden deep within the forest, its white exterior broken only by surveillance cameras and a guarded access road.

████ Forest Research Laboratory, the sign read.

The van stopped at the front entrance. Yuzuriha stepped out alongside Alice, the driver leading them through a security checkpoint. His ID was scanned and the doors opened swiftly.

Inside was a control room.

A middle-aged man stood before a wall of monitors, already engaged in a video call. White-coated researchers moved between terminals, voices low, hands busy. Screens displayed data Yuzuriha didn’t recognize, and no one slowed when she entered.

The conversation stopped as the man noticed their arrival.

The driver bowed to him and to the figure on the screen, then turned and left, leaving the two girls behind. Yuzuriha still held the tablet.

Aikawa Reijuro smiled as Yuzuriha approached him, his gaze fixed on the stone in her arms rather than her face.

“Oh, My dear Yuzu. Welcome home,” he said warmly. “You did very well. Come here.”

She stepped into his embrace, hesitating only for a moment before wrapping her arms around him. His hand rested on her head, stroking her hair slowly.

Her smile was bright.

“Good girl.”

Reijuro pulled away and took the tablet from her hands without ceremony, already examining it.

“To think something this small could hold the resonance of a Level 5,” he murmured. “A magnificent breakthrough.”

The man on screen — nearly as old as Director Kurogane — let out a soft laugh.

“Thanks to the Cantus Null cult following instructions, the tablet was located. The leader remains in Foundation custody.”

Reijuro turned toward the screen.

“Vice Director Saionji... how did you acquire information on the tablet’s existence in the first place? This was the missing piece in our research.”

Saionji Kogetsu’s expression hardened.

“That is not your concern,” he replied calmly. “Just know that certain individuals became... uncooperative.”

Reijuro smiled faintly and returned his attention to the tablet.

“Then I suppose it’s time for the next step.”

Kogetsu nodded. “How many resonance generators have been completed?”

Reijuro’s eyes never left the tablet.

“More than a dozen,” he said. “Enough for nationwide deployment.”

Kogetsu gave a satisfied nod.

“Now...” Reijuro continued. “I will extract the Level 5 frequency from the tablet and replicate it. Once stabilized, it will be integrated into the Novium cores of each generator.”

“Excellent,” Kogetsu said. “Team 02 has already provided sufficient field data during the Cantus Null incident.”

His attention turned to Yuzuriha.

“Your daughter’s performance exceeded my expectation. It’s unfortunate I cannot recruit her directly.”

Alice bristled at the remark.

“Sir—her—? Just because she carries a relic doesn’t mean she’s stronger than me.”

“Silence.”

Kogetsu’s stare pinned her in place.

“Have you ever defeated your captain in combat?”

Alice’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled involuntarily, nails biting into her palm.

“Exactly,” Kogetsu continued. “You underestimated a relic. And you never understood what it truly represents.”

His gaze returned to Yuzuriha.

“She is not within your measure.”

He took a slow sip of tea before turning back to Reijuro.

“Once the generators are deployed,” Kogetsu said, “we will initiate a nationwide CODA outbreak.”

Reijuro replied without hesitation. “Who will be our test subject?”

“The entire Aria Corps, excluding Team 01. The military will follow,” Kogetsu answered. “All of Japan will serve as the field.”

Reijuro’s fingers tightened slightly around the tablet.

“Then I will record the limits of modern Divas against Level 5 CODA,” he said. “Every variable, every failure.”

Kogetsu nodded once.

“Marionette will be the control axis.”

Yuzuriha looked up, confusion flickering across her face.

“Yes,” Reijuro said calmly. “Her Imperium Cantus is the key.”

“However,” Kogetsu continued, tone unchanged, “Cantus Major output will be insufficient. Even with a relic.”

Reijuro didn’t look at Yuzuriha.

“Then I will push her beyond Cantus Major,” he said. “This is the perfect opportunity to observe the birth of a Symphony Major-grade Diva.”

A chill ran through Yuzuriha’s body.

“Agreed,” Kogetsu said. “But she is a failed subject. How do you intend to reach that state?”

Reijuro let out a quiet laugh.

“The answer is already here.” He lifted the tablet slightly. “And it will allow us to see how far Imperium can control at Symphony output.”

Yuzuriha stared at him, terror finally breaking through.

“P-Papa...?”

The warmth in Reijuro’s eyes vanished.

“That means your CODA will engage everything,” he said flatly. “Divas. Military units. Anyone who interferes.”

Yuzuriha staggered back, shaking.

“No... no...” Her voice broke. “Yuzu can’t... Yuzu won’t hurt her friends.”

The sound of the slap echoed through the room.

No one nearby reacted.

“You dare defy your father’s orders?” Reijuro said coldly.

“I-I’m sorry, Papa,” Yuzuriha sobbed, pressing her lips together to keep from crying aloud.

His tone softened instantly.

“There, there.” He patted her head. “Father doesn’t want to be angry. You just need to obey, alright?”

He smiled.

“You must have forgotten your pills. Go take them. Then return to your room. I’ll bring you to the chamber later.”

Yuzuriha froze at the word.

Her hands trembled as she retrieved a small bottle from her pocket, swallowing the pills. Only then did she turn and walk toward the corridor leading deeper into the facility.

***

[December 6th, 19:00 JST]

Tokyo Prefecture – Tempesta Unit Quarters

No one spoke.

They had been brought back hours ago — through medical and resonance checks, followed by debrief sessions — but not a word had been exchanged unless it was required. Even then, it was kept short.

Takeshi sat on the sofa, tablet resting in his hands, staring past the screen. For once, there was nothing he could explain, nothing he could fix. The only thing he felt he could do as their Producer was stay close.

Emiko’s gaze kept drifting to the empty bed beside her. She had been crying since they returned, her sobs muffled against Momoko’s shoulder. Momoko held her there, arms wrapped tight.

Nana sat on her bed, staring at her hands. Misaki stood nearby, watching her in silence, unsure whether to speak. Mika leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Takeshi. Emi sat across from Reina, her gaze distant.

Reina kept replaying the moment in her head. Something had gone wrong. She just didn’t know where.

She was the first to break the silence.

“P-kun,” she asked quietly. “Any word on where Yuzu-chan went?”

Takeshi shook his head.

“No,” he said. “The system can’t detect her resonance at all. Not since she was teleported. There are signs someone was involved, but I need more time to be sure.”

Mika spoke calmly. “Yuzu-san was placed with us by the Vice Director. What’s his stance on this?”

Takeshi exhaled.

“That’s the strange part,” he replied. “We haven’t been able to reach him. Director Kurogane tried as well. No response. And the board hasn’t acknowledged anything.”

Momoko frowned. “They’re just… ignoring it?”

Takeshi nodded slowly.

Misaki glanced at the empty bed. “Then someone’s hiding something.”

The room went quiet again.

“S-So we just… wait?” Emiko asked, her voice hoarse from crying.

Takeshi didn’t answer right away.

Emi hugged her knees. “Yuzu-chan isn’t even… Foundation, right?”

Takeshi shook his head. “The Vice Director only provided basic records. I checked with other teams and the recruits. No one matches her profile.”

Silence settled once more.

One by one, their attention drifted back to the empty bed. To the space where Yuzuriha should have been.

Something had been taken from them.

And no one had an answer.