Water had seeped into her boots. With each step, there came a squelch. Mud and dead leaves and—she couldn't tell where they'd caught—three small twigs clung to Misaki's clothes. Her front was nearly uniform brown. In those fifteen minutes crossing the stream outside Portos Harbor, she'd changed this much. She observed it all as if it were someone else's problem. Aira walked along the wall of the abandoned warehouse, pushing each wooden plank one by one. "…Here it is," Aira said, her voice low. The voice of a guard. One plank fell inward, leaving a gap just wide enough for a person to crouch through. Misaki clutched the leather bag to her chest—the instinct to protect the documents had finally kicked in—and squeezed through the opening. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Three lamps. A stone floor. Wooden crates stacked in the corner. And— The soldiers' faces all turned toward her at once. Over a dozen of them. Exhausted faces. Armor stained with wounds and mud. Staring intently. Misaki understood the meaning of their gazes in a single second. It was the face of "who is this?" It was also the face of "what happened and how did she get here?" From the back, there came the sound of someone standing. It was Reon. His deep chestnut short hair caught the orange lamplight with a reddish tint. Part of his armor had been removed, leaving his arms and shoulders exposed. Golden eyes turned toward Misaki. Those eyes stopped for just a moment. Three seconds. Completely still. Misaki counted it clearly. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Reon's mouth opened slightly, then closed again. His golden gaze moved from Misaki's head to her feet, then back to her head. Mud. Dead leaves. Three small twigs. Water seeping from her boots. The way she clung to the leather bag. It was the face of someone too shocked for words. "…Why did you come?" Reon Ruminasu asked, his voice low and strained. Misaki raised her face, still clutching the leather bag. She met Reon's golden eyes directly. The air in the abandoned warehouse had grown strangely still. She could tell the soldiers were holding their breath. "I couldn't afford to lose you," Mizuno Misaki said quietly. Three seconds of silence fell. Some of the soldiers looked away. Only Aira stepped back half a pace, turning toward the wall. Reon said nothing. His golden eyes lingered on Misaki's face longer than usual. Misaki didn't understand what that meant. She only knew that Reon couldn't speak. Then Misaki pulled parchment from the leather bag. Plink. Two dead leaves fell from her head, landing silently at Reon's feet. Reon glanced down at the leaves for just a moment. Then, without a word, he crouched down, picked up both leaves, and placed them carefully on a wooden crate nearby. The gesture was oddly deliberate. Aira, standing with her back to the entrance, brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a small laugh. "Please listen," Mizuno Misaki said, unfolding the parchment. --- When Misaki began speaking of Lloyd, the air in the abandoned warehouse changed. She spoke methodically. The back door of the abandoned house. A profile in moonlight. The handover of documents to an imperial officer. The way the paper was folded, the naturalness of the gesture, the duration of the exchange. All recorded on parchment. The number of sentries, the imperial crest, the design of the officer's coat—everything. "What was your basis for concluding it was a troop disposition map?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "After receiving it, the officer's eyes moved as if confirming a map. His gaze moved vertically and horizontally. It's different from the eye movement of reading text," Mizuno Misaki replied. "Which unit was the officer's?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "Based on the crest on his coat, I believe it was the Third Liaison Group of the Imperial Supply Corps," Mizuno Misaki answered. Reon fell silent. Misaki continued. Lloyd Valnir—the longtime aide to Chancellor Gais, whose name appeared in the final memo of the Gais Documents with the words "entrusted to Valnir"—and what his betrayal meant. She laid it out in numbers and facts as much as possible. Why the imperial scouts had such accurate knowledge of the terrain around Portos. The confident design of the empire's supply routes. Reon's right fist slowly clenched. Until the knuckles turned white. Then it struck the wall. A dull sound. The stone wall remained unmarked; only Reon's fist reddened. "Since when?" Reon Ruminasu demanded. "I don't know," Mizuno Misaki answered honestly. She could speculate. But she wouldn't state speculation as fact. Reon should have understood—when Misaki said "I don't know," she truly didn't know. Reon withdrew his fist from the wall. He turned toward Misaki. For the first time, Misaki saw something in Reon's face that came before anger. Exhaustion and pain. The weight of repetition—that Gais had trusted this person, and again—. He wore the face of someone whose old wound, the one from Kasiesu's time, had been cut open again in the same place. Misaki felt anew the weight of bringing this news. At the same time, she understood that the part of her that didn't want to see this expression and the part of her that had to come anyway were standing in the same place. Silence fell over the abandoned warehouse. The same kind of quiet that had rung out when Kasiesu's secret pact was exposed now echoed inside Reon as well. --- It was Misaki who broke the silence. "Let me organize the situation," Mizuno Misaki said. She spread the parchment on the floor. Data on the imperial army's supply lines recorded during reconnaissance. The positions of supply bases. The intervals of soldier rotations. Beside these, she laid out another sheet. "What is this?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "An old water conduit map of Portos Harbor. It's from thirty years ago, but the structure itself should be unchanged," Mizuno Misaki explained. She traced the lines with her finger as she spoke. The old water conduit in the northern part of the harbor. And—about two kilometers north of the harbor, in the mountains, there was an abandoned dam once built to prevent flooding. It had fallen into disuse after heavy rains thirty years ago and had been left abandoned. "We repair this dam and let water flow through it," Mizuno Misaki said. "Where?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "To the low-lying areas north of the harbor. From observing the supply lines, I've confirmed that the main warehouse clusters are concentrated in the lowlands—right at the center of the imperial encampment. If a large volume of water flows through, it will be impossible for them to reorganize their siege lines in that area," Mizuno Misaki explained. "…Do we have people who can repair the dam?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "If we have five or six people who can do stonework. We'll need cooperation from local fishermen or residents with construction knowledge," Mizuno Misaki replied. "Do you have evidence? That the encampment is really in the lowlands?" Reon Ruminasu asked. Misaki pulled out another parchment. Estimated positions of supply bases, overlaid with terrain, encampment positions calculated by working backward from soldier movement patterns. Everything was recorded. "This is the basis," Mizuno Misaki said. Reon took the parchment in his hands. The lamp was far away. "It's hard to read in this light. Bring the lamp closer," Reon Ruminasu said. Misaki was about to ask a soldier to bring the lamp, but Reon himself knelt down and brought the lamp to the side of the parchment. The two of them leaned in over the map. Very close indeed. Misaki continued her explanation. The basis for the imperial army's main warehouse being in this location. The size of the encampment calculated from soldier rotation patterns. The estimate that reorganizing the siege lines would take at least half a day once water began to flow. As she spoke, her gaze met Reon's. "…You're close," Mizuno Misaki said without thinking. Her voice was small. Reon silently shifted the lamp ten centimeters to the side. But his face remained at the same distance. Misaki's thoughts derailed from calculation for just a moment. The orange of the lamplight reflected in Reon's golden eyes. She couldn't tell if those eyes were looking at the parchment or at her. Heat rose faintly in her cheeks. She was suddenly grateful that mud covered her face. Aira, near the entrance, had begun casually turning her gaze outward. It was the movement of someone conscious of something beyond her duty as a lookout. Misaki returned her gaze to the parchment. "I'll also state the problems honestly," Mizuno Misaki said. "Speak," Reon Ruminasu replied. "The dam repair requires specialized labor. If it fails, there's a possibility of involving civilian homes in the lowlands. And depending on how much information Lloyd leaked, the imperial army may have already relocated their encampment," Mizuno Misaki said. "What's the success rate?" Reon Ruminasu asked. "By my calculations, fifty-fifty," Mizuno Misaki answered. She said it precisely. Not sixty percent, not forty percent, not seventy percent. Fifty-fifty. Reon spoke immediately. "We do it," Reon Ruminasu said. There was no hesitation whatsoever. Misaki always found Reon's decisiveness slightly terrifying. It was a kind of strength that was the complete opposite of her own love of calculation. "Understood. The next step is obtaining cooperation from the residents," Mizuno Misaki said. Reon glanced at Misaki's face for a moment and nodded slightly. There were no words. But in his eyes was something different from the hardness of "why did you come" when he'd first entered the warehouse. Misaki didn't know what to call it. Their wills quietly meshed together. --- After Reon moved to brief the soldiers, Misaki sat on the floor and spread out the parchment again. Under the lamplight, she reviewed her calculations. Estimated time for dam repair. Water volume calculations. The speed at which water would spread across the lowlands. Organizing the words needed to explain things to the residents. In the gaps between these, Lloyd's profile kept surfacing. (The Gais Documents too—) "Entrusted to Valnir." That single line Gais had written at the end of thirty years of work now took on a different color. How much of the documents' contents did Lloyd understand? There were still unread volumes. What was written in the depths of that cipher? Did Lloyd know? Or didn't he? The next calculation grew heavier. "Misaki," Aira said, returning from the entrance and sitting beside Misaki. "Your face looks scary. It has been for a while," Aira said. "Thinking is my job," Mizuno Misaki replied. "It's not about the job. I'm worried about your face," Aira said with a sigh. Misaki looked up from the parchment. Aira's light blue eyes were looking directly at her. For a moment, Misaki wondered if Aira had seen her face grow hot by the lamp earlier, but there was no sign of that in Aira's expression. It was purely a worried face. Misaki reached for the leather bag to put the parchment away. Plink, plink, plink. Three dead leaves fell. Misaki silently picked up one leaf. Then another. Then the last one. "You're basically one with those leaves now," Aira said. "I'd prefer not to become one with them," Mizuno Misaki replied. Aira laughed quietly. No sound came out, but her mouth moved. Misaki wasn't sure if she'd laughed, but her body felt slightly lighter. Then Reon returned. "We're heading to the dam. Guide us," Reon Ruminasu commanded. A short order. Misaki stood up and shouldered the leather bag. In that moment. Reon silently reached out. One shoulder strap of the bag had come loose. Misaki hadn't noticed. Reon refastened the strap, then walked on as if nothing had happened. The gesture was remarkably natural. Misaki stopped for just a second. The lamplight receded into the distance. She watched Reon's back