The cafeteria of SAIR Central Division 2 was noticeably livelier after the morning exercise.

Agents still wearing their tactical uniforms queued quietly at the serving counter, while instructors gathered around several larger tables discussing the morning’s drill. Somewhere near the kitchen, the aroma of boar meat stir-fry mixed with freshly brewed coffee drifted through the room.

At one of the tables sat a brown-haired man in SAIR Central instructor’s uniform, one with two bars on the shield crest — Hakisama Toruyo (秋山 敏), instructive captain of SAIR Central Division 1. He placed his tray onto the table with a little more force than necessary.

Across from him, another Division 1 captain lowered his head.

“Come on, Shiumin,” Toruyo sighed, rubbing his forehead. “What exactly was going through your mind?”

Shiumin remained silent.

“You knew Huashin (化星) and Araka (琉川)  were on the opposing team, right? And you didn’t even brief your recruits on who they were facing?”

The silence became even more awkward.

Meijin and another instructor at nearby tables quietly looked over before returning to their meals.

Just then, Huashin walked past carrying her lunch tray. She stopped for a moment — seeing the two Division 1 officers, she couldn’t help smiling.

Toruyo noticed immediately.

“Alright, Huashin,” he lowered his chopsticks and looked at Huashin,“I know exactly what you’re about to say.”

Huashin raised an eyebrow.

“‘Your agents are hopeless,’ right?”

Meijin, the short haired woman sitting nearby, chuckled.

Toruyo shook his head. “I’ll answer that before you do,” he pointed toward Shiumin, “This squad didn’t train under me, it’s by him. You know my Matake isn’t even suited for direct combat.”

Huashin didn’t respond.

He sighed dramatically before looking back at his colleague. “But this man - a captain with all the right qualifications - didn’t even tell his own recruits what they were walking into.”

Shiumin quietly stared at the table.

Huashin smiled sympathetically: “Toruyo, To be fair… they actually did better than I expected.”

Toruyo looked up.

“They survived Meijin and even injured me a bit,” she took a seat beside them, “and that’s already an accomplishment.”

Toruyo raised his eyebrows. 

“Plus,” Huashin said while gently stirring the soup in front of her, “Exercises involving Matake users weren’t even part of the standard curriculum until recently — not until Milo forced all of us to rethink how we train.”

Toruyo nodded slowly. “…Fair point.”

He picked up his cup before speaking again. “Still,” he said, “I would love you to return the favour.”

Huashin looked toward him curiously.

“Do you remember the midnight Sarel hearing?” Toruyo continued, “the one I fiercely defended Sarel in front of the whole cabinet?”

Huashin nodded.

“I’d like you to think I wasn’t completely useless, even in this world where Matake are weaponized,” Toruyo said, “Even you couldn’t have argued your way through that one.”

Huashin laughed. “I’ll give you that.”

The atmosphere around the table finally relaxed.

After taking another sip of his coffee, Toruyo suddenly changed the subject.

“Oh, right,” he continued, “Speaking of Araka…”

Huashin looked at him.

“If she’s already operating at that level …then you should seriously consider sending her for shrine certification.”

Huashin nodded slightly.

“That’s already arranged.”

“Good,” Toruyo leaned forward, “You know how the Hikuyomi elders are better than me — if they hear there’s a teenager walking around with that kind of Matake without formal certification, they’ll think another unregistered user has appeared.”

Huashin smiled knowingly: “She’ll be going soon.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Toruyo said. Then, he stirred the coffee the other way before speaking again, this time in a quieter voice.

“And one more thing,” he said: “As for the Milo group… I’m still not convinced it’s over.”

Huashin quietly nodded: “After all, we still didn’t know who Milo, the person, actually was. 

“It’s not just that,” Toruyo said, “I’ve been hearing rumours that some of the Matake scrolls recovered during the investigation weren’t the only copies.”

He looked around briefly before lowering his voice even further, eventually shifting to channeling. 

“Apparently copies have already begun circulating on the black market.”

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Huashin simply gave a small nod.

“…I’ve heard the same,” Huashin replied through her Matake field. 

—-

Later that day, while the other interns returned to the dormitory, Araka headed to Huashin’s office in the main wing.

“Instructor Huashin, Araka’s here.”

Huashin looked up from the tablet as Araka entered the office.

“You wanted to see me, Instructor Huashin?”

Huashin nodded toward the chair opposite her desk.

“Have a seat.”

Araka sat down, tilting her head: “So… what’s going on?”

Huashin folded her hands together for a moment before speaking. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Guess that’s how serious stuff begins.”

Huashin smiled.

“I know.”

She leaned back slightly and said: “Araka, you’ve accomplished an incredible amount in a very short time.”

Araka scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Well, thanks, I should say,” she said 

“… and that’s precisely the problem.”

“…Huh?”

“When you first joined Division 2 last year, I could still treat you as an unusually talented intern with some Matake ability,” Huashin looked directly at Araka, “But at this point… I don’t think I can keep pretending that’s all you are.”

Araka blinked: “What does that mean? Does that mean I’ll have more restrictions?”

Huashin raised an eyebrow. “Restrictions?”

“Like… not being allowed to hang out with Leana and everyone?”

Huashin laughed softly. “No,” she shook her head and said: “Actually, quite the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“I want to make it easier for you to move around.”

Araka frowned: “…Sorry Instructor Huashin, I don’t follow.”

Huashin tapped a few documents on her tablet.

“Every time you participate in something beyond the responsibilities of an ordinary intern, Division 2 has to explain it,” She scrolled through several reports, “like why  was this intern deployed? Why was she involved in a federal investigation?” Why does she keep appearing in places where ordinary interns shouldn’t?”

Araka slowly nodded. “…I guess that does happen a lot,” she said.

“And eventually people stop accepting ‘because she’s exceptional’ as an explanation.”

“So…”

Huashin smiled. “I’d rather give them a better one,” she said. 

“…Which is?”

Huashin crossed her arms: “I want you to become a ‘pro’.”

Araka stared at her for several seconds. “…A professional?”

“Yes.” 

Araka tilted her head. “Since when is Instructor Huashin interested in gaming?” Araka said, half confused. 

Huashin froze. “…um?”

“You know.” Araka shrugged. “‘Go pro.’, as they said.”

“Oh.”

Huashin looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “…I heard people saying it online, and … I thought it sounded cool.”

Araka couldn’t help smiling.

Huashin coughed lightly, “You know I’m only twenty-nine, right? I still want to sound… ‘sparkly’.”

Araka blinked. “…’Sparkly’?”

Huashin immediately regretted saying it. “…Forget I said that,” she cut it off, “Anyway, I want you to become a shrine-certified Matake sorcerer.”

“Wait,” Araka paused, “…That’s actually possible?”

“Um-hum.”

“I thought you had to be an adult,” Araka said, “all the certified sorcerers I’ve seen are adults.”

“Normally that’s the case, but …”  Huashin said while opening up a file on her tablet, “But there’s a loophole we have been using quite a lot already.”

Araka leaned closer.

“We won’t submit the application under your school registration, or anything like ‘Araka’,” Huashin explained, “We’ll use the alias you’ve been used all the time.”

“You mean Sara?”

Huashin nodded.

“But … though I’ve been using it to protect my identity, some people will find out who Sara really is,” Araka said, “after all, even my signed documents had that name on it.”

“That’s why we’ll make a twist,” Huashin said, “we’ll register it using a different Faonzy (方字) spelling.”

Huashin wrote two names beside each other.

“莎樂”

“紗羅”

“The pronunciation stays exactly the same,” Huashin said, “But legally, since one Watanaba spelling could have different Faonzy characters, they will be treated as different written names.”

Araka looked between the two spellings.

“So… that would mean I will be known as Sara, but with a fancy spelling like ‘silk-fall’?”

“Exactly.”

Araka thought quietly for a moment. “…But why would becoming shrine-certified give me more freedom?”

Huashin smiled. “Because right now, every unusual thing you do becomes Division 2’s responsibility to explain,” she said, “If we have a Sara that is shrine-certified, your Matake activities will also fall under the Shrine Network’s jurisdiction.”

“And that means— “

“Instead of people asking ‘why is this intern doing this, they’ll simply see a Shrine certified sorcerer deployed in a mission  — which I think you’ve already been acting like one for quite some time.”

Araka nodded. “Guess I’m in.”

Huashin then reached for her laptop and opened it on the desk.

“Since you’ve agreed,” she said, “we’ll get started.”

Araka leaned forward curiously as Huashin connected to the Division 2 internal network. A rather plain-looking webpage appeared on the screen.

Its background was an aged cream colour, with dark green headers and simple blue hyperlinks. There were no animations, no modern graphics, and not even a search bar on the front page.

At the very top sat four large characters.

宮廟掌目 (The Directory of Shrines)

Araka blinked.

“The Directory of Shrines …That name sounds ancient.”

“It is.”

“I mean…” Araka pointed at the screen. “Even the wording sounds like it came from before computers existed,” She studied the page for another moment. “…And this website …has it been updated in the last thirty years?”

Huashin laughed quietly: “People ask that surprisingly often, but the reason is simple — it hasn’t changed because it’s supposed to look like this.”

“…Seriously?”

Huashin nodded. “The Shrine Network intentionally keeps the interface extremely simple, because fancy websites require constant redesigns and maintenance, and sometimes inaccessible for some devices. And for the database behind it — it is actually more secure and newer than most government websites.”

Araka nodded. 

Huashin continued navigating through several menus before stopping at another page.

Certification Appointment System

She scrolled quietly. Then stopped.

“…Hmm, how come I forgot this.”

Araka noticed the expression immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

Huashin sighed: “Summer.”

“…Summer?”

“It’s the busiest season.” Huashin turned the laptop slightly so Araka could see the schedules. In the rows of dates stretched across the screen, most had bright red labels — the appointment is full.

“Since the certification examination is conducted individually,” Huashin explained, “The examiner focuses on one candidate at a time, and in most cases… the appointment has already been arranged by the shrine where the trainee studied.”

Araka nodded slowly. “…Which means I’m the unusual one.”

Huashin smiled.

“Since you weren’t trained through the traditional shrine route, we’ll need to work around it.”

She continued scrolling, and only found more disappointing — of all the shrines listed on the website, all of them displayed the same result of “no vacancies”. 

Then, Huashin paused. 

“…Wait,” she clicked, and a new page opened: 

(New) Shimana Shrine (仙滿宮)

Ninju, Tzehae State

Certification Appointments — Available

Huashin raised her eyebrows slightly.

“That’s unexpected.”

Araka leaned closer. “Wait, since when does the ‘big breasts shrine’ suddenly run Matake certification?”

“‘Big breasts shrine?’” 

“Yeah the one worships a deity with big breasts,” Araka said, “You know, Jinlin worked there part time.”

Huashin didn’t respond. Instead, she stared at Araka’s chest, then rubbed her chests, and then let out a small sigh. 

“Anyway,” she shifted her focus back, “let’s see if Jinlin will be your examiner.”

Then, Araka’s eyes widened as a familiar name appeared.

“…Wait, isn’t that Instructor Yon? The one from SAIR North Division 2?”

Huashin nodded. “The same one.”

“Isn’t he the Matake user whose spell reflects attacks back through multiplication? He will recognize me.”

 Huashin couldn’t help smiling.

“Guess that actually makes things much easier, since both of us already met him…” she paused for a brief moment, “as recent as the new year reunion in Meidon.”

The memory seemed to flash across her face for just an instant. She coughed lightly, choosing not to elaborate.

“…Anyway,” Huashin said upon clicking the confirmation button, “Araka, I will contact him for a final confirmation, and I will tell you the result tomorrow morning.”