We made it all the way into the central structure of the ruins without encountering another enemy.
Passing through a rusted, time-worn gate, we found ourselves inside a vast, warehouse-like room. Dust blanketed the floor, and on the far side stood the entrance to a long, dark hallway whose depths were impossible to see.
It looked exactly like the sort of place where a mob fight would start.
"From here on is the real challenge." Shizuko spoke solemnly. "Everyone must stay focused. We don't know when the enemy will—"
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Before she could finish, wild laughter cut her off.
Moments later, mixed footsteps echoed out, and from the darkness poured a swarm of Street Mouryo delinquents, led by two wearing tengu and noh masks. Dozens of them emerged in a crowd so thick it was impossible to count at a glance.
Before the two leaders even spoke, several dusty delinquents likely the ones who had been crushed earlier outside, began shouting again.
"You idiots! Even if you defeated the Four Heavenly Kings with dirty tricks, our master still commands the even stronger Left and Right Guardians!"
"That's right! Get ready to be knocked flat and subjected to the terrifying, merciless punishment of having your shoes and socks removed and your feet tickled with feathers! Even if you cry and beg, it won't help!"
Shizuko couldn't help letting out a small laugh. "I remember these two. They were the ones causing trouble on the street earlier, weren't they? Left and Right Guardians? Haven't we beaten them like a dozen times already?"
But the enemy girls suddenly burst into even louder laughter, echoing fiercely in the enclosed space.
"Hahaha! Members of the Festival Department sure are funny. As if the Left and Right Guardians refer to these two!"
"Exactly! Haha! There's a limit to how bad your eyesight can be!"
Only the two supposed leaders were not laughing.
The tengu masked girl snapped around sharply. "You! What are you laughing at! Be quiet!"
The laughter stopped, not because of her scolding.
It stopped because it faded from back to front, as if something were cutting through the crowd. The students parted on both sides, opening a narrow passage. Even the two leaders moved aside.
And in the suddenly open space, only two sets of footsteps echoed.
Under our watchful stares, two girls walked down the aisle formed by the parting crowd. Once the Street Mouryo regrouped behind them, the two finally stopped.
"Shishou, I hope you've been well."
One of them stepped forward and greeted me. A greeting like that could only come from Izuna, whom I'd spoken with earlier that morning.
Izuna's eyes were clear, her tone firm, filled with resolve.
The young ninja aspirant took a deep breath. To the one adult who had truly believed in her dream, supported her, and taught her the path of the ninja, she spoke with earnest devotion.
"Shishou, you told Izuna to follow her own will and make her own choice. Now it is time for Izuna to repay you and show you the results of her training.
"I have thought it through… As a ninja, even if the mission is immoral, I must complete it… Even if it means destroying the Cherry Blossom Festival I love most… Even if it means fighting against the person Izuna's most…"
Her voice trembled, eyes reddening. "So, so that I do not disappoint your expectations, Izuna will defeat you here as promised! Please be prepared!"
This was the fate a proper ninja must accept.
Had her resolve reached her Shishou? Izuna looked into my eyes, only to realize my gaze was not on her.
Her heart clenched sharply, a sour ache rising in her chest, stronger than tears. Confusion followed.
Why? Why was her Shishou not looking at her at such an important moment? Had she made a mistake? But she had followed the ninja's code exactly, hadn't she?
Izuna stepped forward instinctively, wanting to ask something even she couldn't put into words.
But just as she opened her mouth, her instincts screamed a warning, freezing her in place.
A moment later, she sensed everything that was wrong at once.
Where her Sensei was looking. The expressions of the students beside him. The murmurs of Street Mouryo behind her. And—
The cold, sharp touch of a blade's tip against her neck.
Bang!
Before Izuna could react, a bullet spun out from an old fashioned rifle. A mystic powered round struck the back of her head, sending her collapsing to the ground, dizzy and nauseated.
What happened? An attack from behind? A betrayal by a new ally?
A breeze passed her cheeks as countless questions filled her mind. She struggled to rise, managing only to lift her head.
And then, the scene before her wiped her mind blank.
Standing there was Kosaka Wakamo, known across all of Kivotos as one of the Seven Prisoners, the Fox of Calamity.
The same Wakamo who had shot her from behind.
And that Wakamo now buried herself into her Shishou's arms, nuzzling close, practically like a loyal dog.
Something inside Izuna snapped.
Had her Shishou planned this from the beginning? She didn't know. But tears finally burst forth, now that she didn't want them seen.
She bowed her head, unwilling to show her shameful tears after saying something so bold.
Whispering sorry in her heart, Izuna fainted.
....
I didn't pay attention to Izuna's condition. Holding Wakamo gently after so long apart, I asked softly,
"What are you doing here?"
"Hehe… because my beloved was calling for me. I rushed over to offer you my strength∼"
Wakamo rose on her toes. Her voice was muffled behind her mask.
I remembered the two messages I sent her yesterday after confirming the culprit. I hadn't expected her to care so much that she infiltrated the enemy.
But for someone who survived by taking jobs on the black market after receiving a suspension, betraying her employer mid-mission was effectively throwing away everything her current life depended on, just to help me.
…Well, that profession isn't exactly good for her anyway. If Wakamo really can't make a living, I wouldn't mind Schale gaining another mysterious private soldier.
Even the General Student Council would probably overlook a small indulgence if Wakamo kept her wanted status hidden.
With her loyalty so profound, how could I fail to respond?
So, Mimori, don't blame me for being unfaithful. Often, I have no choice.
After patting Wakamo's back and signaling her to release me, I looked at the unconscious Izuna, then at Wakamo, sighing internally. My emotions were complicated.
Wakamo was wonderful in every way except her habit of acting on her own. I hoped she would change, but phrasing that wrong would only make her cry.
Just as now, if I had shown even a hint of rejection when she threw herself at me, she would have stopped immediately…
Then quietly wiped her tears, later asking timidly if she had messed up again.
I truly didn't know what to do with her.
Noticing the Street Mouryo beginning to whisper, I got an idea.
I clapped Wakamo on the shoulder and burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! Well done, Tamamo! Perfectly disguised as the Fox of Calamity, infiltrating the enemy and striking at the decisive moment!"
A fabricated name, but enough to save my reputation and restore hers.
Wakamo reacted instantly. "Yes. As Tamamo, it is my honor to serve Sensei."
Hearing us clearly, the Street Mouryo exhaled in relief and began chattering.
"See? I knew it. The real Fox of Calamity wouldn't act so girlish."
"Exactly. She may be terrifying, but her reputation on the black market is impeccable."
"And come on, Schale's Sensei and the Seven Prisoners? No way that matches."
I heard Wakamo grinding her teeth beside me.
"No! That's wrong!"
Suddenly, a Street Mouryo girl stepped forward, waving her arms. "Don't be fooled! Think carefully! That is Kosaka Wakamo! The Fox of Calamity herself! As if someone could impersonate her so perfectly!"
Another chimed in. "Exactly! We've seen her strength firsthand, and it matched the real deal! Even if you mask the appearance, you can't fake that power!"
Surprisingly, these delinquents were sharper than expected.
The first girl smirked triumphantly, pointing at us.
"So admit it! You're no nameless nobody! No one could imitate Kosaka Wakamo flawlessly unless they themselves were a member of the Seven Prisoners!"
Wakamo trembled again, not in fear but in anger at having her lie exposed.
Just as she prepared to act, the same perceptive delinquent declared:
"Which means… you must be the legendary Phantom Thief of Benevolence!"
…Who?!
Before I could think of a counter, the sound of shattering glass rang from the windows.
I turned toward it...
To see four fox eared girls in tactical masks bursting through the window.