August 2092
I recalled something crucial. It's 2092 the Reminiscence Arc. Sticking to the original plot might be fine, but Grandfather Gozo doted on Maya and Miya, Genzo Yotsuba's daughters. This world's corrective forces are unclear, but with the Mitsuya Clan already diverging, clinging to canon feels pointless.
I'm a Mitsuya, not a Yotsuba like the protagonists. Even as fellow Ten Master Clans, boundaries must be clear. I can't predict how involved I'll get in their events. My only edge? Ties to the National Defense Forces, which I'll explain if needed.
Dad despises the Toyama Clan due to business. I've met them too. Knowing the original story, I hope they don't try anything reckless like capturing me. Their "tests" or "reeducation" claims could fuel anti-mage sentiment. If reasoning worked, life would be easier.
"Lieutenant Sanada wants you to come," Motoharu said. "Your skills could finalize their specialized CAD. That's half the reason."
"Half?" I asked.
"The other half's an invitation from Mitsugu Kuroba to a private party. He's Gozo's acquaintance, and Dad couldn't refuse."
Mitsugu Kuroba, head of a Yotsuba branch family. Gozo's connection landed us this invite. I didn't expect Yotsuba contact this soon. Motoharu added, "You'll use your current name, 'Nagano Yuto.' I'll go as 'Nagano Motoharu.'"
"But you're already known as a Mitsuya. Won't boarding together expose me?"
"Gozo's handling it. He's even arranging party attire."
"Shizuru, Kana, and Mika will be bummed."
"Dad agonized over that."
I was set to cheer at the Nine Schools Competition under a pseudonym. Now, I'd intervene in the original story. I'd prepared for five years, countering corrective forces' potential threats. Missing my sisters' competition was unavoidable either-or choices suck.
"This is Dad and Gramps' doing. Let Dad handle the sisters. Worst case, Gramps' back takes the hit," I said.
"You can be ruthless," Motoharu laughed.
We chuckled, unaware Gozo's back would literally suffer.
Since training at the Kamiizumi dojo, I've practically lived there, learning under Gozo. His "teachings" were grueling trials, but to shed my past life's complacency, I embraced them. Even Onii-sama endured harsh training young. Thinking this way at my age isn't exactly childish.
"Impressive," Gozo said during my first visit, tossing a wooden sword. "Catching it mid-air? I like you."
Thanks… (Stay calm. Don't complain when learning.)
Nearly dying from that sword toss isn't a fond memory. The training felt like ascending to sagehood. My resolve to grow stronger fueled it, earning me Shinei-ryu's certification recently. Senior disciples pitied me, placing hands on my shoulders. I don't get it.
The day before Okinawa, I meditated in the Kamiizumi main hall, training my [Eye]. It wasn't just focus—it was controlling my ability to see Idea, the information dimension holding all Eidos, per Greek philosophy. Modern magic manipulates Eidos, but few consciously discern it.
I wasn't prying into Kamiizumi secrets. Gozo knew of my [Eye] and forbade its use indoors, as did Kana, who shared a similar ability. He hinted at spirit magic ties, saying, "This house is like that." The library, accessible post-advanced training, held spirit magic texts, but I saw no active spirit or psion barriers beyond the estate's wards.
…What's that?
A tilted picture frame caught my [Eye]. It showed a young Gozo, his daughter, and three others. He wouldn't discuss it. The frame's recent movement suggested tampering. Only Gozo, his family, Mototsugu, Shizuru, or I could access this hall. No Mitsuya would touch it.
My gut urged action. Risking Gozo's wrath, I levitated with air manipulation, removed the frame's back, and retrieved two faded letters. The sender and recipients' names shocked me.
"Maya… Miya… Both from Genzo Yotsuba. Gramps, you…"
Genzo, the Yotsuba's former head, entrusted these to Gozo before dying letters for his daughters, Maya and Miya. The photo likely included Gozo, a young Retsu Kudo, and the three named. Gozo probably took the letters out occasionally. For someone so decisive in martial arts, this indecision was striking.
He's always preaching lifelong duty, yet he's holding onto these?
Rumors said Gozo joined the Yotsuba's revenge. The photo's smiles showed his bond with Genzo. Surviving while his friend died likely weighed on him. Maya and Miya might blame him, explaining his hesitation.
That's not right.
Speculation, but Genzo likely wanted Gozo to watch over his daughters, not drag him into Yotsuba vengeance. Guilt might've paralyzed Gozo, so Genzo entrusted the letters as a final wish. I stormed into the main dojo, where Gozo was alone, disciples training elsewhere.
"Yuto, you broke my rule!" he roared, grabbing a wooden sword and swinging with rare fury.
His anger made the strike sloppy his slowest yet. I caught it between two fingers, deflected it with my foot, slammed it down, grabbed his hem, and threw him with one arm. The thud of his body and the sword's clatter echoed. Gozo stared, stunned.
"Gramps, you preach keeping promises but dodge your own? These letters were entrusted by Genzo Yotsuba, weren't they?"
"…That's—"
"Deliver them while the recipients live. That's all an outsider like me can say. If you don't, I'll despise you forever."
I activated [Reinforce], healing Gozo's old wounds. He sensed it, standing as the light faded, taking the letters. "That magic… it repairs the Magic Calculation Area?"
"Something like that. It's organic interference, so I don't use it lightly. You understood?"
"Who do you think I am? Now I can fight Mototsugu for half a day… Oh, right."
Gozo placed a hand on my head, smiling gently. "Thanks, Yuto. That was a needed wake-up call. Thirty years is oversleeping."
"Good you're resolved, but you're in for a lecture."
"What—!?"
Shizuru, Gozo's aide, gripped his sword so tightly the handle creaked. Too late for him.
"CHESTO!" Her supersonic strike floored Gozo, clutching his side.
I considered intervening but caught Shizuru's flee glare and dodged back. "Shizuru-neesan, that's too much."
"No, it's deserved. Swinging a sword at family outside training is madness. Reflect on it."
"Your skills have grown…" Gozo groaned.
I had no retort. Gozo promised to deliver the letters, entrusting Miya's to me. I didn't expect to connect with another clan so soon.
Motoharu and I boarded a flight to Okinawa as "Nagano Motoharu" and "Yuto." Mitsuya tradition kept my surname hidden until high school. Executive class was Gozo's indulgence—normal class would've sufficed, but I could handle trouble without magic. It suited Motoharu's cover.
The issue? Our fellow passengers. At the airport lounge, a woman approached. "Are you two Gozo's boys? I'm Miya Shiba."
Miya Shiba, formerly Yotsuba, twin sister of Maya. Gramps, I almost cursed you. A scapegoat setup? Motoharu was rigid with tension. Miya's frail health didn't dull her overwhelming aura as the "Mistress of Lethe." I was unfazed, hardened by Gozo's killing intent. No need for caution she was friendly, not hostile. If Tatsuya showed up, I'd flee or grovel.
"I'm Nagano Yuto. This is my brother, Motoharu. Nice to meet you, Miya-san."
"N-Nagano Motoharu. P-Pleased to meet you."
A twelve-year-old steadying a twenty-two-year-old looked odd, but Miya smiled.
"No companions?" I asked.
"No, family trip. My daughter's with her brother. I'll introduce them if we get the chance."
"We'd be honored."
As Miya left, Motoharu exhaled. "That was intense. You were fine?"
"Gramps' killing intent toughened me. We're not fighting, so relax."
If only it ended there. Miya introduced her kids Tatsuya and Miyuki. Meeting the protagonists this early? Insane.
"I'm Miyuki Shiba. Pleased to meet you."
"…Tatsuya Shiba."
Tatsuya, Miyuki's guardian, had an odd dynamic despite being siblings. I had to stay on his good side my life depended on it. Miya, perhaps sensing my intent, smiled. "You're like Gozo, friendly unless provoked." True, Gozo's strict in training but indulgent otherwise a carrot-and-stick approach.
I thought greetings were harmless. Wrong. I forgot the Reminiscence Arc's timing. Same flight, high chance of crossing paths.
Why does this happen?
On the plane, I ended up in a capsule seat next to Miyuki, swapped somehow. Motoharu, beside Miya, suffered. I didn't ask how the crew was convinced best not to poke. Miyuki studied modern history on her terminal. Not wanting to disturb her, I pulled out my foldable custom terminal and started typing.