Vol 3 Chapter 18 – Kirino and the Raspy Voice  (【The Exonerator of the Maritime Nation】Arc)

“Ugh… So Hirata’s getting shipped to Hokkaido too? And Mayuzumi*? Un-freaking-fair.*”

Slumped over her desk, Kirino whined, her voice cracking dramatically.

Ichiban, her stone-faced subordinate, didn’t glance up from her paperwork. “Orders are orders. Blame the boss.”

“You’re such a robot! Live a little—rebel!” Kirino flopped her head sideways, pouting.

“Says the one obeying every command.”

“Gah—why you gotta roast me?!”

“Just calling it like I see it, Ms. Kirino.”

Ichiban’s monotone reply earned an eye-roll. Kirino squinted, suddenly leaning closer.

“Hey… You’ve been twitchy all day. Spill.”

Ichiban’s pen froze. “…Twitchy? I’m working.”

“Suuure.” Kirino drummed her nails on the desk. “Or maybe you’re dying to sprint to Hokkaido too?”

“Projecting much? You’ve been eyeing your phone like it’s a train ticket.”

“Busted!” Kirino shot upright, starry-eyed. “I wanna ambush the boss the second she’s back! Tackle-hug her!”

Ichiban kept typing, unfazed. The duo looked less like boss-and-subordinate and more like a hyperactive puppy and her exhausted handler.

“Seriously, how are you this good at your job?” Kirino groaned.

“Flattery won’t make me do your paperwork.”

“Are you even capable of feeling joy?!”

“Yes. I’m just… bad at showing it.” Ichiban deadpanned, her face blank as a screensaver.

Kirino snapped her fingers. “Oh! Let’s crash the boss’s welcome party later!”

Clack. Ichiban’s keyboard went silent. She turned slowly, voice strained. “…Party?”

“Yeah! We’ll ambush her with confetti!”

“CONFIRMED?!”

Ichiban slammed her desk, shooting up like a rocket. Kirino nearly toppled backward.

“Whoa—since when do you yeet yourself?!”

“Apologies.” Ichiban sat stiffly, ears red. “I… may have overreacted.”

Kirino smirked. “Relax. The boss’ll love you. Probably.”

“‘Probably’ isn’t reassuring.” Ichiban pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat audible. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Won’t be for a while, though. Hirata’s handling some mess up there. Boss is on it too.” Kirino scrolled lazily through her phone.

Ichiban stood, stacking files neatly. “Tasks complete.”

“Already?! Slow down, Terminator!”

“Or speed up.” Ichiban slid a coffee toward Kirino.

“You’re the only one sassy enough to get away with that…”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment!!”

With a robotic nod, Ichiban grabbed her coat. “Leaving. Try to finish your work.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, buzzkill.”

The door clicked shut. Kirino fished a cigarette from her blazer, lighting it with a sigh.

“…Something’s fishy,” she muttered, smoke swirling around her scowl.

Well, I guess it’ll be fine.”

She spoke in a bright voice, as though trying to shrug everything off, then looked out the window.

Her eyes held the anticipation of someone waiting for a great presence to appear.

A quiet hallway.

After leaving the room, Ichiban let out a small sigh.

“I showed a bit of agitation… hope that’s okay.”

She took out the communication device hidden in her chest pocket. There was still no call from her master. No messages had come to her cell phone, either.

“Second-sama… what are you doing right now?”

A small whisper escaped her lips. At that moment, her phone vibrated.

“Second-sama!? …No, wait…”

But the name displayed was different from the person she had in mind. She answered it apprehensively.

“Hello…?”

“Ah, good, you picked up. It’s me.”

It was Hime-sama—the absolute presence within the Guardians.

Ichiban found it hard to believe, but there was no mistaking that name. She had never imagined receiving a phone call from Hime-sama, so she instinctively tensed.

“What do you need?”

“Just a little message. I thought I’d let you know as well.”

Speaking directly with Hime-sama was already rare enough, and now there was a personal message. Ichiban didn’t even notice her own trembling.

“I’m grateful for your consideration.”

“No need to be so formal. We’re in an emergency with Second, after all. At times like these, rank doesn’t matter—cooperation does.”

“Understood. So… what’s the message?”

“Oh! Right. Almost forgot.”

Hime-sama continued in a bright tone.

““Fourth” has arrived in Hokkaido. We’ll leave the matter regarding Second to Fourth from here on out.”

“I see… If it’s Fourth-sama, that’s reassuring. Understood.”

“That’s all, but do you have anything you want to report?”

Those words reminded Ichiban of something important. She quickly walked down the hallway as she spoke.

“As for Empress, they seem to be having problems in Hokkaido as well. Because of that, the boss’s direct aide went there.”

“The direct aide… basically the organization’s number two?”

“From how Kirino—their executive—described it, that seems to be the case.”

“Got it. I’ll let Fourth know to be careful.”

Ichiban added one more important point.

“There’s one more thing I want to mention.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

She hesitated for an instant before speaking.

“The exact date’s unclear, but there’s a chance I’ll meet Empress’s boss.”

“…Tell me more.”

Ichiban explained everything about her conversation with Kirino. A strange tension flowed across the phone line.

“Kirino said he wants to introduce me and even suggested talking in person.”

“I see… If you really do end up meeting, contact me again.”

“Understood.”

Hime-sama’s tone turned serious. It felt like she was contemplating something on the other end.

“That’s all I have to report. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all. Thanks for filling me in!”

“It’s my duty, after all.”

With Hime-sama’s parting words of thanks, the call ended. Ichiban took a deep breath.

“…That was nerve-wracking.”

Her stomach felt like it was in knots. She hadn’t been this tense in a long time.

“Well, I guess I’ll wait for their boss to get back…”

She left the hideout with heavy footsteps.

“Why the hell do I have to play errand girl…?”

A husky female voice rang out through the nighttime streets. It belonged to Takanashi Hitomiko.

“This is such a pain…”

She was currently in a foul mood, for a simple reason: someone had foisted a task on her that had nothing to do with her. Three figures in black surrounded her, their hoods pulled down and masks obscuring their faces.

“We finally made it. Seriously, what a hassle to squeeze through all these narrow spots.”

She opened a door and headed down the stairs to an underground level. Most of the fluorescent lights were out, leaving the corridor dim. Eventually, a single door appeared before her.

“Open it.”

At her signal, the door swung open with a jarring gigigi creak. A dimly lit laboratory lay beyond.

“This place still stinks.”

Takanashi grimaced and walked in. The lab was lined with all sorts of chemicals.

“What a nasty hobby…”

“What’s so nasty about it?”

An old man’s voice came from the shadows. She turned toward it.

“Oh, there you are. Good to see you.”

Nonomura stood there, and Takanashi flashed a small smile.

“It’s been a while since we’ve talked alone, huh?”

“Yeah, it has. What do you want?”

Takanashi took out an envelope.

“I’m just here to give you this. Here.”

Nonomura accepted the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. As he read the contents, his expression turned grim.

“This is… who’s it from?”

“Hirata. I’m just delivering it because she told me to. If you want details, ask her yourself.”

“I see…”

Takanashi let out a small breath and turned her back to him.

“Well, I’ll leave the rest to you.”

With that, she left the lab, taking her subordinates with her.

Alone in the lab, Nonomura picked up a vial of chemicals.

“Why do I have to make this stuff… I don’t get what she’s thinking.”

He muttered to himself as he began working.