Chapter 9: Enforced Devotion【Part 1】
【言語に関するご注意 / Language Notice】本作はすべて、英語と英語の表現で書かれています。翻訳作品ではなく、オリジナルの英語ライトノベルです。あらかじめご了承の上、作品をお楽しみください。
See chapter one for the main author's note.
Mihaku
“Morning, Chief.” A cheerful voice drifts from the left side of the corridor. The accompanying footsteps are already passing my right ear.
Freshmen stare up at the building like tourists. From this fifth-floor window, it looks as if they are searching the glass specifically for me.
Hands clasped behind my back, I lean slightly closer, testing if I can catch anyone’s eye through the reflection.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My focus shifts slightly to the bench. She has not moved a muscle.
A minor miracle.
She slouches low on it, her knees splaying so far forward that she looks ready to slide off.
Her expression cycles between pouts and fleeting smiles while she drums the screen with her thumbs.
I doubt I would even recognize her if she were not in conversation with someone at any given moment.
“And a very good morning to you!” A passing clerk calls out. My gaze remains locked on the glass as his footsteps fade and the corridor quiets down again.
Even during the academic break, these restricted hallways stay busy.
Freshman rush…
“Oh, hey Chief!” A clerk balancing a stack of ledgers approaches from the side. “Nice weather we’re—”
I snap my neck toward him like an owl, my eyes widening to the limits of their whites.
The clerk redirects his gaze straight ahead as if nothing happened, his footsteps quickening down the hall before I can even turn back to the window.
“What’s up, dude?” the crumpled figure on the bench calls out after him, tossing up a casual hand without looking away from her screen.
The clerk’s hurried footsteps skid a bit, only for him to accelerate to double time.
Past the glass, the courtyard fountain shoots water into the air. Deep chimes echo from the distant city clocks. Noon.
I glance back at the bench.
Unchanged.
She has truly mastered taking the ‘assist’ out of assistant.
“Kizuki!” I call out.
Her eyes widen. The phone vanishes into her pocket as she springs into a sharp salute. “Yes, Chief! Are you finally ready? We should have been moving already, Chief!”
A faint smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Well, let’s get a move on then.” I pivot, the hem of my trench coat flaring as we walk down the hall. She jogs a bit ahead of me, maintaining a bouncy pace.
“Think he still remembers what we look like with all these new faces arriving?” She asks, already whipping out her phone for a quick glance before shoving it back. “I really tried forcing an earlier slot today, but the administration kept claiming the freshman intake workload makes mornings impossible. I just added it to the pile of excuses.” she shrugs, throwing her hands up.
“Oh, he remembers. I ensured that the moment that weasel became important enough to warrant my attention.” A scheming grin slips past my guard. “And don’t worry—we’ll drag him out of bed next time. I’ll just make up the difference for today.”
Kizuki
Note to self. Get out of the way when the Chief makes that look.
The sharp clack of the her retracted skates rings down the corridor, striking the stone floor with every stride. The noise draws a few wary glances from passing staff, but she does not even bat an eye.
“Ah, hey Miko!” I wave at her, exchanging a quick smile as we stride past her.
A second later, my hand shoots up again. “Hey, Mike!”
The poor guy flusters, fumbling his papers as we leave him behind. I really do love these halls.
The hallway quiets down as we stop at a pair of grand wooden doors.
“President’s Office,” I murmur. These doors always make me feel like I am entering a fortress.
I open the right door with an elegant sweep and offer a playful bow. “After you, Chief.”
She strides past without a word, her focus already fully on the room ahead. Her coat catches the draft as I slip in right after.
I look left and right, scanning the layout. The President always changes this place like an eccentric gallery owner who can’t sit still.
This time, a weird cow statue sits in the corner, and it appears the odd fish painting is already gone.
A bright wooden desk anchors the center of the spacious office, flanked by couches in the back. A handful of students in casual clothes fill them, chatting and clinking glasses.
And here I thought personal offices were supposed to be… you know, personal.
Behind the desk, a high-backed leather chair swivels lazily. A head lolls over the top of the cushion, drawing modest laughter from the group.
One by one, the students on the couches turn their heads toward us.
The spinning chair halts.
“Chief Mihaku,” a smooth voice rings out.
“President,” Mihaku responds flatly.
I keep pace, matching it with Mihaku’s, until she halts in front of me—choosing a spot unusually far from the desk this time
The chair swings around to reveal Hasumi. Both of his hands slam flat against the wood as a wide smile breaks across his face.
“Welcome, welcome. Come, take a seat.” He sweeps a hand toward the couches. Nobody moves to make room, their chatter continuing in the background without a break.
“That is very gracious of you to offer, Hasumi, but I will have to decline today,” She responds, keeping her hands clasped behind her back, her expression unreadable.
“Always standing up for another, are we?” He chuckles.
“Why did you call me here? I think twice a month is already far more than a human should bear.”
“Whew!” He wipes imaginary sweat from his brow. “Always to the point.” He turns slightly in his chair to address the couches.”That’s why they call her the spearfish. Deadly in the water, but put her in an office and she just flops around for air.” The crowd on the couches falls into sycophantic laughter.
Mihaku clears her throat, the sharp sound cutting through their enjoyment.
“Right, right.” Hasumi turns back, his smile tightening. “Don’t want to be in your way, of course.”
Silence meets his words.
He raises his hands in a V-shape and closes his eyes with a smile on his face.
Taking the cue, the group scrambles up—grabbing their coats to skirt along the walls and out of the room.
The room plunges into dead silence.
He lowers his arms, resting his elbows like a sphinx on the desk. The reading light on it casts a glow over small trays, stacks of unopened letters, and scattered documents.
He pulls a newspaper from a side drawer, snapping it open as if settling into a lazy morning routine.
“’For Fox Sake: Triads Escalate.’ Hm.” A small, almost envious smirk plays on his lips.
“Catchy title,” I chime in.
Both of their heads snap toward me. I just shrug.
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Discover what happens next in: Chapter 9: Enforced Devotion【Part 2】
Written by Limited_Infinity. Extras, official publishing platforms and updates are publicly available only on the Patreon page “_Limited_Infinity_”
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