It happened at breakfast, after Noburi had finished helping Kagome-sensei recover from morning exercises with Minami.

The sealmaster rose shakily from his seat, and stood so that the rest of the group was facing him in a rough semicircle.

“I…” he mumbled. “I just wanted to… I… I wanted to say…”

He trailed off. His mouth opened and closed helplessly as if he was a hooked fish gasping for water.

Finally, his eyes lit up as if he’d hit on an idea. His gaze snapped into the middle distance.

“I mishandled a risk assessment and implemented a personal project without seeking feedback from the rest of the team,” he pronounced like a Leaf printing press stamping words onto paper line by line. “I… how’d it go… I humbly apologise for this violation of procedure and am prepared to accept any disciplinary measures my supervisors deem appropriate.”

His eyes refocused again. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said quietly but clearly. “I really did. I thought getting rid of Dumbbutt, uh, I mean Minami, was just eliminating another risk, like we do every day. But I guess in all my years alone, I forgot that… there’s a reason sealmasters work in groups. It means if one person screws up, somebody else might notice before the trial phase.

“I… Despite everything, when it counted, I forgot what it meant that we were a team.

“Back at the lab, they’d put me on meatbag duty for this—if I was lucky. I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, but I swear I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

Kagome-sensei bowed, and bowed deep. The gesture of abject submission from Hazō’s master made Hazō feel a little sick inside.

“I’m so sorry,” Kagome-sensei said to the skytower floor. “Please don’t hate me. Please don’t kick me out.”

The team exchanged glances. Nobody knew what to say—or, in Hazō’s case, even how to feel.

Noburi was first to recover from his stupour, using the time-honoured technique of deliberately missing the point.

“Meatbag duty?”

Kagome-sensei took this as his cue to unbow.

“Front-line tester,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Means that when there’s a sealing failure you get blown up first, and everyone else either takes notes or runs like hell, depending.”

“Apology accepted,” Keiko said seriously, but Hazō recognised an ironic smile dancing somewhere behind her eyes without quite making its way to her mouth. “While we do not intend for you to atone for your act of unimaginable folly with your life, understand that there will be consequences, and I am not speaking only of the slow, laborious and painful process of rebuilding trust with those you have wronged.

“On which note,” she turned to Akane, her tone changing not a jot, “I believe it is now your turn to carelessly place the team in mortal peril. I ask only that you do so after I have gained access to the Nara Clan Library.”

Minami just looked between them, taking in everyone’s expressions of calm acceptance. “You people really are weird.”