Chapter Two — The Girl Who Dared to Dream

Chambrae is a city bounded by small mountains on one side and a clear, blue ocean on the other. As the cultural center of the planet Renoir, millions of people from both this world and others come to visit the extravagant locales, taste the fine food, and even just enjoy the city's slow, rustic atmosphere. With such an attractive pull then, some people are quick to wonder why so many locals of Chambrae say they would rather live somewhere else.

One of these curious people, a Juraian tourist, was walking along the famous Perle Dafin, a bay where people say one's wishes may come true if they throw pearls into the water. Clutching some pearls he bought from a nearby tourist shop, this man decided to test that myth and threw his share in the water. As he did so, he was unaware of the young woman approaching him on the side. By the time he turned back around, the two of them had bumped together.

"Oh! Je pare multiso! Je atat goffo torp'azi!" she quickly said in her native Renoiran before switching to Juraian. "So sorry, I am so clumsy!"

"Don't worry about it," the tourist responded casually as he looked at the Chambrae native. She was a woman wearing a mishmash of grey and black clothes, which he thought wholly unsuited her beautiful, free-flowing teal hair that reached down to her shoulders.

"Oh, but are you bene? Okay?" she asked him. As she did so, she grabbed his hands and held them in his own. "Because I hit you now! Very sorry!"

"Again, I'm fine. I barely felt it."

"Good! Good! Bye!"

As the two of them parted ways, the tourist recalled that the woman had run her hands all over him, but he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary while his attention was focused on her. Now, however, he had the feeling that his left arm felt ever so lighter than what it was supposed to be, and he instinctively looked to see any difference.

By the time he started yelling that his watch had been stolen, the woman was already gone without a trace, swallowed up by the passersby as easily as the pearls are swallowed up by the water. She had exited the Perle Dafin and retreated into the dense neighborhoods south of the city center. It didn't take her long to find her destination, an unassuming pawn shop run by a man she knew and trusted.

"Another one?" he asked curiously as he examined the watch she stole. "This must be the third this week!"

"What can I say? I'm a growing girl and I need to eat."

He shrugged. "I didn't know you moved up to eating at restaurants every day. This is a good watch you've brought me—Juraian, isn't it? I'll give you… fifty lire. How about it?"

"Fifty-five."

"Come on, Leila. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are. Fifty-five."

He sighed. "Deal."

Nodding, Leila took the well-earned lire and exited the shop. She walked through the neighborhood and had to resist the urge to look away in shame.

This part of the city has always been run-down, but for some reason, it seems to have gotten even worse in the past few years. She nearly tripped on a sleeping beggar's legs while turning a corner. Several houses were boarded up or broken into, and some others had "For Sale" signs listing prices as low as only a few Juraian watches worth of money. It was a compounding effect, she thought. People already have to deal with living in a miserably hot and humid city for nine months out of the year, but to live in a bad neighborhood, too? It might just be too much for some people, but at the same time, it might embolden others.

A man Leila could hear creeping up on her from behind finally announced his presence, brandishing a small, rusty kitchen knife "Hey! I saw you walk out of that pawn shop with some lire. Let me keep it safe for you, and I'll let you keep your fingers!"

"How about I call the police on you? They'll keep you very safe behind bars."

"You dumb bitch!" he growled as he lunged forward. Just as he was about to run into her, Leila sidestepped the man and kicked him in the back of one of his knees, making him embarrassingly fall to the ground. Leila stepped on the hand holding the knife, grabbed it herself, and cut the man's pants at the waist so she could rip them off.

"You should dress lightly if you're going to be outside this time of year," she said as she tossed the knife away. She let the man stand up and scamper off into the nearest alleyway with his hands covering up his underwear.

She began walking again, but to her surprise, she was next accosted by a group of children, who were astounded by her feat.

"Woah, that was cool!" one of them said.

"Yeah, thanks! That jerk's been trying to haggle everyone all week. He even tried to get me but I told him I ain't got any money!"

That last line made Leila realize she was talking to street urchins, who she now noticed were shabbily dressed and were forgoing shoes entirely. Something built up inside her that convinced her to take out her wad of fifty-five lire and hand twenty of it to them, making the kids jump up with excitement.

For as badly as she needed the money, there'd always be someone out there who needed it even more. She'd know firsthand, after all; she used to be just like them.

Her walk through the neighborhoods led to Chambrae's city center, the crossroads for all walks of life. High-rise skyscrapers were nestled between smaller two and three-story apartments and businesses. A restaurant was what Leila's grumbling stomach was directing her toward. She had a nice view for her afternoon brunch sitting at a table on the restaurant's outside patio, watching people stroll by who looked better dressed. While it made her slightly self-conscious, she actually enjoyed being in this part of town. Seeing the sights and sounds reminded her of what she was working toward, the things that she wanted that she never had.

From the corner of her eye, she could see an adventurous little girl chasing bugs ahead of her two parents who weren't far behind. With her quick hands, she managed to catch the insect in her hands to show to them.

"Mama! Papa! Look, I got something! What is it?"

"Looks like a butterfly, sweetie," he answered. "Best let it go now, it probably has somewhere to be."

"Okay!" she said happily as she released it into the air.

"And you better stay close to us, young lady!" he said as she took her hand into hers, and her mother took the other one.

Leila looked at that happy family for as long as she could, until they could no longer be seen at all, and even afterward through her imagination. Indeed, the things she never had captivated her most of all.

"Five in the afternoon and this is what you're busy doing?" a man suddenly asked from behind. Without even asking permission, he invited himself to sit on the chair next to her and prop his feet up on the patio table.

"Édouard," she said unenthusiastically; he was a man who sought attention even when he couldn't command it. Begrudgingly, however, she had to admit he stood out more than most, thanks in part to that red headband he wears wherever he goes that accentuated that rebellious, youthful persona of his. He looked trouble, he acted trouble, and, for the most part, he was trouble.

And he was also her friend, if only because they happened to have something in common apart from having no last name.

"Let me guess, fifty-five lire?" Édouard asked her.

Leila was surprised. "How'd you know?"

He took out a watch, the very same one she'd just given to the pawn shop owner not too long ago. "Juraian, isn't it? You charged a little extra for that."

"You should give that back to him," she said. "You need connections in this city, not roadblocks. Now he'll never work with you again."

He scoffed. "I don't need small men in my life. I need people of action, ambition, people who I can rely upon, and that's why I've been looking for you."

"I'm taking the rest of the day off," Leila told him. "I've made enough money already. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Nearly done with her food anyway, Leila tried to stand up and leave, but Édouard lightly grabbed her wrist and sat her back down. He was shaking his head in disappointment.

"So typical of you, Leila. Are you going to be fishing at the Perle Dafin for the next forty years, or will you make something out of your life? Do you want to live on the street, or in a penthouse? It's not a difficult decision, is it?"

"I only do what I need to, nothing more," Leila said. "I was hungry, so I did a little work. What's wrong with that?"

"I keep telling you, stop fishing for small game. There's so much more out there if you'd only be willing to go a little bigger, and I know where to get the big game. You work with me, and hunger will be the least of your concerns."

Realizing he wasn't going to take no for an answer, Leila decided she should at least hear him out. Minding the people around them she leaned in close so they could talk quietly. "Fine, what did you have in mind?"

"There's a new art exhibition not too far from here. It's attracting all the rich Juraians who want to see it when it opens. We're going to help a well-to-do man I've met borrow one or two of these. How does fifty Iue on the lire sound?"

"You say that like it'll be easy as robbing a family store. What about security? Guards?"

"Obviously, but don't worry, our patron has already given us a hand with that. He paid off one of the Juraian guards to clock out of work early, and he conveniently handed him the key to the storage truck the guards use to keep their equipment. I've already borrowed a couple of spare uniforms for us. All we have to do is sneak in, turn off a few cameras and alarms, borrow a couple of paintings, and we'll be set for years. All in a night's work! What do you say? Are you in, or are you in?"

Kiyone shook her head. "Neither. You know I just don't do this kind of thing. It's too dangerous. If we get caught, our lives are over."

"But we won't get caught. We're professionals; mistakes are for amateurs. You just follow my lead, and everything will be fine."

Édouard's reassurances did little to ease Leila's mind, but at the same time, if he was telling the truth, if they managed to borrow just a couple of paintings, she wouldn't have to work against a very long time. She could say goodbye to the street life and begin living like a real person ought to. That dream in her head was exciting, and she found herself finally nodding, to Édouard's approval.

The duo let night fall over Chambrae before they put their plan into motion. Donning security guard uniforms, they found the building hosting the art exhibit, one of many large museums in the city with several points of entry. Édouard however was brimming with confidence and decided to walk straight through the museum's front entrance. Leila wanted to scream inside, but to her surprise, the security detail standing on the inside of the doors barely batted an eye toward them, probably too tired to think too much of a couple of co-workers just walking around on the job. Being the night before the opening, they expected that there would be artwork already fixed to the wall and ready to be unveiled under a cloak, but to their surprise, there weren't any paintings or statues or experimental pieces of art.

"Did someone already get here before us?" Leila quietly asked Édouard as they walked.

"No, this isn't right at all. Everything might be in a storage area. We just need to keep looking."

"What if this is a trap?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he chastised. "Nobody would expect such boldness out of a couple of thieves. Our prize is just a little farther than I expected."

They kept walking through the empty halls until Édouard caught something in the corner of his eyes, stopping Leila in her tracks as well. Standing in the middle of a lonely hall was a single pedestal with a round object sitting inside two sets of glass boxes. It was the size of a small walnut and was mostly brown apart from a purple "stem" at one end. They slowly approached the box, keeping a small distance from it in case there was any security mechanism.

"Am I supposed to know what this is?" Leila asked.

"I think I've heard of it," Édouard said. "On the news a few months ago, they said Juraian excavators had dug up one of their royal tree seeds near Chambrae. This must be it."

"Seriously? What's so valuable about a tree seed?"

"According to them, these are ancient artifacts from before Jurai was a country. They're supposed to germinate and grow into giant trees that have special powers, like granting eternal youth. But this seed was captured by pirates before it could germinate. They called it the "Original J", but then they lost it after a while, and now it's turned up here."

Noticing there weren't any cameras in this particular part of the building, Édouard took one step closer toward the glass box, but Leila stopped him in his tracks.

"You're crazy. Your client wanted art, not a seed. If we take that, who'll we sell it to who wouldn't just turn us into the police? Juraian police!"

"We can worry about that after we get it. Just leave it to me."

"No, I'm not playing that game. I'm not going to get dragged down with you in case this is a bad idea, which this is shaping up to be."

"This is not the time, Leila!" he said.

Suddenly, the lights switched on as a guard came over to investigate the commotion. "Hey, what's that noise?" he asked in Juraian. "Are you two on your rounds?"

Unable to properly answer him, and hearing the footsteps of more guards behind him. Édouard decided it was time to act. He threw his flashlight at the man, hitting him square between the eyes. Before Édouard could turn back to Leila, she had punched and shattered the glass box and snatched the smaller box holding the Juraian Tree Seed. The alarms had them sprinting as fast as a blank shot at a track race.

"Follow me!" Édouard yelled. "We're going to be rich!"

Leila did not trust him, but she had to get out of this mess she entangled herself into before she could think about that.

Outside, an aircar pulled up to one of the museum's side parking lots. One man and a security guard exited, with the guard having an uncertain look on his face.

"Are you sure it's alright for you to enter right now?" he asked in Juraian.

"Were you listening when I told you my brother is the manager of this exhibition?" the man asked, his tone dripping aristocracy. "He owes me after I helped with his wedding preparations last month, so the least I could ask for is to have a look at the Original J myself. I just hate of idea having to share the room with other people, you see."

Just as the aristocrat reached the handle of the door he was entering through, it swung outside and hit him hard, sending him staggering a few feet. Édouard and Leila stormed outside, but the guard immediately recognized what Leila was holding in her hands.

"That… that's the seed!" the guard yelled.

Immediately Leila threw the seed at the guard, forcing him to drop his taser and catch it with his hands. Before he realized his mistake, Leila had sprinted forward and punched him in the eye, and then she ducked down and tackled the stunned man to the ground. She grabbed his taser and gave him a dose of his own medicine.

But Édouard hadn't had time to congratulate Leila, as he failed to notice the aristocrat standing behind him. While plump, he had grabbed Édouard by the neck from behind and had him in a firm chokehold.

"Uh, uh, uh!" he taunted. "Drop that seed now and maybe the courts will show you mercy!"

Édouard didn't take the taunt. He made a beastly grunt and forced both him and his assailant back against the museum's wall. He shook violently, making the man painfully hit his head a couple of times before he finally let go. Édouard turned around and took out a knife from his back pocket, completely enthralled by his primal bloodlust.

"No, stop!" Leila begged him to no avail. She could only watch as Édouard brutally stabbed the poor man several times in the left side of his abdomen and ribs before shoving him to the ground. The disgusting, gurgling noises he made before he died froze Leila in place, but Édouard grabbed her arm and literally threw her into the car they had used to get here. Just as more security guards burst outside, Édouard slammed his foot on the pedal and sped out of the parking lot and the city center as fast as he could.

They had ditched the aircar and retreated into the labyrinth of the south-side neighborhoods, a maze that few Chambrae police officers knew well and fewer dared to venture through in the middle of the night. Plus, it didn't hurt that Édouard's brutality had mostly kept their attention at the parking lot outside the museum, not on them.

It was easy picking a squatter's place to lay low in for the night, but Leila couldn't keep herself at ease no matter how many deep breaths the took. She knew from the start that going along with Édouard's scheme was a bad idea, but nothing could've prepared her for what he'd done.

While Édouard casually kept an eye on a window surveying the front entrance, Leila walked up to him."We've got to return this seed."

"What did you just say? Return it? Why?"

"Because you've really done it this time, you stupid kut'sa! You killed someone right in front of me! As soon as they get facial composites on us, we're going to be hunted down until they get that seed back and put us behind bars!"

"Then we'll just start over," Édouard said casually. "We could just get new names and move to another city, Tarmilano or maybe Fierentina. Or, who am I kidding? With the money we'll make off this seed, we could do whatever we want! We could go into space, we could—"

"We? We!?" Leila interrupted. "No, this is no we. It's only me and you, and I don't want anything to do with this anymore! Oh, I knew this was going to go wrong, I just knew!"

"Leila," Édouard said. "What's wrong with you? This is something that's always disappointed me about you."

"What?"

"You're childish. Too afraid to get your hands dirty to catch big game. You have no ambitions, no dreams, nothing. You were born into nothing, and at the rate you're going, you'll die with nothing."

He looked back outside through the window. "That's exactly what this city gave us, nothing, so we have to take what we're owed with our own two hands, and you and I are owed so much! Why is that wrong, to take only what we're entitled to? You know we're not alone: Chambrae is a city of drifters and slugs and miserables. It's a whirlpool that most never escape from, but you and I have a chance to be different! We can escape this place and live like we ought to, and it's thanks to that little seed in your hands. That's what I'm trying to say, Leila, and if you had any vision, you'd be nodding along with me!"

Leila couldn't be surprised at the words she was hearing. She knew Édouard longer and better than anyone, and when it came to his hopeless ideals, he was a broken record player. There was no convincing him to see things otherwise as he was already too far into his head pursuing his dream to see the reality through the window of their hideout.

She had no more words to give him, so walked over to him and placed the seed into his confused hands. Before Édouard could even ask what she was doing, Leila was already out the front door and out of sight.

Édouard may be crazy, but he did have one good idea now that Leila thought about it. It was about time she started over, started a new life, go somewhere where she could live… better. She had been considering giving up pickpocketing for a real job for some time anyway, but the tight job market in Chambrae demanded qualifications and papers that Leila could only dream of having. But then, she found her answer.

In one of the large public squares dotting the neighborhoods were two men sitting at a table they set up. If their blue and grey fatigues didn't identify them as Galaxy Police officers, then their large cardboard recruitment sign next to their table certainly did. Of the two men, the one on the left was having a much more fun time than the one on the right.

"Come one, come all, good people!" he began in Renoiran. "The Galaxy Police is the best job you never knew you wanted! Great pay and greater benefits, and you get to fly a spaceship too, isn't that cool? Just sign your name and you'll be cruising in no time! And if you're afraid about fitting in, don't worry! We'll set you up with top-of-the-line Juraian language tutoring at no additional cost to—"

"Give it up man," his co-worker interrupted in Juraian. "This is the stupidest job I've ever worked in GP. Exactly why they keep pushing for more Renoiran recruits is beyond me. I mean, they can't even speak the right language! Why would they be interested in working with us?"

"Well, that's exactly the point," his friend said. "People keep complaining that nobody but Juraians and Wau work the GP, so here we are trying to diversify."

"Well, it ain't my damn fault nobody else wants to protect and serve, is it? There're fifteen million people living in this city, Chamba, or Chambri, or whatever the hell it's called, and we haven't gotten a single person interested in signing up today. By Tsunami, we'd be better trying to recruit Seniwans off the streets of Teishang, at least they can speak Juraian like us!"

"Ah, but you know, those Seniwan leaders don't want their people to join the force anymore. They say it's unpatriotic, or something."

"Anything they say is unpatriotic. You accidentally trip their feet and they say you're being unpatriotic. Boom, twenty years and hard labor for you!"

While they kept bantering back and forth, they failed to notice Leila standing in front of their table with a confused look on her face.

The left officer was delighted that he was right and his co-worker was wrong. "Well, look at that! I told you we just had to be patient. We let her in, and soon there'll be more like her."

"Whatever you say," the other man said as he looked up to Leila and got his papers in order. "Name?"

Leila cocked her head slightly.

"Oh, Tsunami," he grunted, nudging the left officer on his shoulder. "You handle this, Mr. Anthropologist."

"All it takes is to open your mind a little," he answered before addressing Leila. "Madame, Nume?

"Leila," she answered.

"Leila? Leila… sobrenume?"

She shook her head.

"What, she doesn't have a last name? Great!" the right officer complained. "The first person we've gotten and she's a drifter!"

The left officer ignored his co-worker's ranting. "Eta?"

"De-huit."

"She's eighteen years old," he told the right officer.

"Well, I guess she's serious about this," the right officer said as he organized some papers for her to read, if she could read them. "Alright, Leila, let me spell what this paper says out for you. If you sign your name below, you'll be accepted as a cadet at the next class of the Galaxy Police Academy, where you'll attend for two one-year semesters. Now, if you pass both semesters, you'll be officially licensed as a Galaxy Police officer and be inducted into the force. Now don't get the wrong idea about us, the GP isn't a contract organization where you can come and go. Once you put the badge on, you are subject to the laws and regulations that the we operate by as laid out by the GP Superintendent and the Galaxy Comittee. Basically, if we were a country, you'd be swapping out your Renoiran citizenship for ours. And—"

"That's enough," the left officer said. "I have to translate all this you know. I can explain the rest later."

Once he translated his comrade's mouthful into Renoiran, he asked. "Understand."

"Sa," Leila answered, nodding.

"Oh, and you'll also want to have a new name," he said. "Got to fit in with the Juraians at that Academy."

"Got any ideas?" the right officer asked him.

"Um, I don't know. What about Tenko?"

"No, no. That's no good, Tenko's a tomboy name. She's more like a… Kiyomi. Yeah."

"No, Kiyomi is too common. There's fitting in, and then there's making it too obvious you're trying to fit in. What about… Kiyone?"

"Kiyone? You know, I like it. Hey, girl, do you like that name, Kiyone?"

"Sa," Leila said again.

"What about a last name?" the left officer said. "I can't come up with anything."

The right officer grunted in annoyance. "I got nothing. I mean, something memorable. Maybe it should rhyme like… like…."

"Makibi," Kiyone suddenly answered.

"Makibi?" both officers asked.

"It should rhyme," Kiyone repeated, careful to phonetically pronounce the words that didn't exist in her language.

The right officer threw his hands up in joy, happy that the hardest part was over. "Alright, Kiyone Makibi, just sign your name on the bottom of his paper here and we'll take you to the Galaxy Police Academy."

He handed Kiyone a pen and turned the paper around for her to sign, but when she finished, he was disappointed at what she'd written. Since she could barely speak Juraian and couldn't write it, she signed her new Juraian name in Renoiran and its unfamiliar characters.

The officer sighed. "Nevermind, I'll do it." He wrote Kiyone's name in proper Juraian characters. "You can work on the language barrier at the Academy. Now, if you don't need to do anything else, you're all set to get out of here, and so am I!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," the left officer said. "One of us has to be here at all times. You stay, I'll take Kiyone to the ship."

Above the right officer's shouting about not wanting to be stranded in a city of foreigners, the left officer led Kiyone to his GP aircar and drove her to the spaceport where a small transport ship was waiting for her.

"We're supposed to meet a daily quota of five, but I'm sure they'll be happy we got even a single one person," he told Kiyone in Renoiran. "I'll go inside and tell the crew to get ready to transport you to the Galaxy Police Academy."

Kiyone nodded, and while the officer went inside the ship, she stood up out of the aircar to lean against it, but soon enough, Édouard had found her. He was practically dripping sweat trying to run and catch up to her in the humid summer heat.

"What do you want?" Kiyone asked her.

"So you're really leaving, Leila?"

She shook her head. "Leila is staying in Chambrae, but Kiyone Makibi will be going into space and becoming a Galaxy Police officer."

To Kiyone's surprise, Édouard didn't look surprised when she told him that. If anything he looked relieved. "Kiyone? I like that name. It fits you, in a way."

"What about you? The seed?"

"That? I'm going into space, find those pirates who used to own it. When I give it back, they'll have no choice but to let me join them. If I can do that, then I'll have escaped the whirlpool; I'll have gotten what I've been owed my whole life."

"Pirates? Are you threatening a future Galaxy Police Officer?" Kiyone said sarcastically.

Édouard chuckled. "We'll see who gets the last laugh, but hey, it was nice knowing you, Leila. You have small dreams, but at least you have some. And I hear that being in the Galaxy Police is hard work. Here…"

He reached for his red headband and slid it off its head. "You wouldn't want to break a sweat, would you? Probably want to wash it before you put it on, though."

"Oh, but it's the darndest thing, Kiyone. I can't come up with a new name no matter how hard I try," he continued. "Nothing sticks out."

Kiyone put a hand to her chin, deep in thought. Finally, after a minute, she gave him an answer. "Tarant. Figure out the last name yourself."

The GP officer returned from inside the ship! "Alright, Kiyone, let's get aboard. The Academy awaits you! Oh… am I interrupting something?"

Kiyone scoffed and promptly turned away from Édouard. "Nothing I'd like to remember. Let's go."

As Kiyone dutifully boarded the ship with Édouard's headband in her hands, her narration aboard the Yagami wrapped up the story with a monologue.

"To this day, I still wonder what happened to Édouard after I left. Maybe he was killed eventually, swallowed up in the whirlpool he so desperately wanted to escape. Or, maybe he did manage to sell the Original J and become a pirate, having the chance to be different like he dreamed about. I still wonder if I should've accepted the headband, knowing what horrible things its owner had done. I'd chalk it up to a spur-in-the-moment decision, but I guess the lesson to be learned is not to worry about things that have already been done; don't let your past define who you are now. It's worked out well for me so far."

While Mihoshi clapped at the end of the story, Mitsuki yawned and asked Kiyone a question.

"So did you just admit that five years ago, you committed, in a single day: misdemeanor theft, misdemeanor assault, as well as acessory to the robbery of the Original J and a second-degree murder?"

Kiyone motioned her eyes toward Mihoshi, and without a word, Mihoshi casually tapped the back of Mitsuki's head square on the spot where she was wounded. Immediately, she shrieked with pain.

"No, I didn't admit to committing any crime. That was Leila, but my name is Kiyone Makibi."

Preview of Next Chapter:

Mihoshi: "Hey, it's my turn! I'm excited that I get to tell you two why I became a Galaxy Police officer!"

Mitsuki: "I for one would love to know how they ever accepted someone like you."

Kiyone: "One more word and I'm hitting your wound again."

Mihoshi: "I used in to live in Teishang, the Seniwan capital, but my family always pushed me to do certain things because of how 'great' I was supposed to be. Well, I wanted to be great, but in my own way. The next chapter of Academy Days! Teishang's Beautiful Star."

"It's unquestionably a non-political series of events!"

Author's Note #2: Yes, I'm surprised as well.

While writing "Galaxy Police Complex", I've more or less surrendered to the fact that the 15,000 or so word episodes I write at a time mean that I take a long time to publish new content and because of the gargantuan tasks I put myself to, I often decide to push it aside to another time when I feel more motivated. While that's not entirely a bad thing, and I am indeed proud of the content I've created for that series, I don't feel that burden here!

With "Academy Days!" and its shorter chapters, I feel more motivated to type until I'm done. It's honestly a brilliant idea, and I have no idea why I haven't thought of it earlier. When I wrap up "Academy Days!" in the future, I must take a second look at "Galaxy Police Complex" and see if I could replicate my success with this story there.

In case you haven't read my author note for the seventh episode of "Galaxy Police Complex", the Renoiran language is a hodgepodge of the five major romance languages: French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and Romanian, which gives the otherwise familiar words an alien feel when they're used in unusual circumstances as I have done. For those who think the idea might be a tad... unimaginative, let me remind you that in every single Tenchi Muyo! series, the Juraian language is word-for-word identical to the Japanese language, only with a different name. The bar isn't set very high, as you can see. And of course, the city of Chambrae itself could pass for any large, picturesque city that sits on the Mediterranean sea; think Venice, Marseilles, Nice, Naples, etc.

I've always liked the idea of Kiyone formerly being a thief because it's satisfying to see how a character can change so much for the better. Indeed, in future chapters when all three heroines attend the Galaxy Police Academy, we will see the newly-named Kiyone Makibi slowly morph into the character we're familiar with, and the same will go for Mihoshi and, to an extent, even Mitsuki.