Chapter 79:
Jester of the Masquerade
Walls surround it all, wobbling and flickering like candlelight. Every part of them, every brick reveals shapes and sounds of another place, colorless and see-through in their texture. A few torches grant meager light to the damp and narrow hallway, exposing more signs and visions in the structure.
Traversing the dungeon takes its time for the soldier, who finds not a single item nor valuable in the place. Only the visions that with him walk defy the deafening silence, the wails of doors in need of oil. The edification itself takes on a labyrinthine structure, staircases reversed from the ceiling that descend to no end in sight, spiraling bridges which coil upon each other, and shifting corridors from which there is no exit, only dead ends. Time had lost its meaning long ago, yet as cold seeps through his clothing, as it sticks to the skin, he cannot help but to wonder if there is any pattern to the roads ahead, above, and around.
Reaching a balcony after a large trek, gazing at the myriad of pathways under the simple candlelight causes a sinking grip to take hold of his insides. It is all too large to recognize a start much less an end, a method to the madness. He likens the winding ways to spaghetti, even some hallways do raise in a helix as if beckoned by a fork of reversed gravity. Sighing, he rubs his arms, fighting the cold, the shake of his tired legs. Allowing his rear and palms to rest on the stone tiles, in silence he admires the expansion that weaves and entwines in a seamless and endless pattern, gaze growing slack, chin faltering as if nodding off.
A sigh once escapes, he throws his back to the stone and veils his sight. Knowing the torch is soon to fade away does not spur haste to his movements, as the paths have not been merciful thus far. It is tempting, to try and jump from one to the other, to rush through it all to the end, if there is one.
He stands in slow motion, unmaking the fire with his own boots. Little point there is to trying to make out the patterns when he does not know the way in the first place. No one does, truly.
Along the shapeless hallways he walks, curling and bending and twisting at times, stretching and slowing down at others. In the darkness, only the rough shapes within the bricks act as guidance. The small bubbles which remain out of reach, out of sight yet ever-present in the back of his head. As he runs his fingertips over the rugged and cold rocks, the temptation to pull and take them with him manifests in his scratching, in the lingering of his palm over the damp wall. Sighing once more, smiling at the kaleidoscope of faces which surrounds him, he pulls away and continues his walking. For those memories shall always be by him, even long after the ones featured in them become as cold and immovable as the stones which these formless candle-walls make.
Walking upside-down in a coiling bridge, he spots a thin thread of light ahead. Finishing the circle of the bridge, a set of stairs descending he finds, illuminated by torches. The way down is uneventful, save for the walls turning to a solid rock formation, no longer reflecting moments of days past. At the end of the road, the cave expands in erosion, a small and calm road of clear water coursing through it. And beyond it, a large and regal chest adorned in gold and jewelry rests atop an ornamented altar, basking in the candlelight.
Splashing his boots in the water and carefully stepping over the rocks, he raises a brow as he approaches and circles the chest in question. Throwing small pebbles does not seem to trigger any traps, so he sighs and slowly grows closer. It takes some effort and force to lift the heavy lock, all to find the inside mostly empty.
Save for a small book of pictures, the images thus reflected on the walls. Lifting the old, tattered book makes some pages tear away from it, fluttering to the ground. Coursing through the pages proves to be as arduous as walking the hallways. Regardless of the oddity, he can't help but to continue onward. And while lingering on every image for a moment, the coldness seems to finally be lifting its grip on his person as he begins to hum a tune to the swing of the pages.
Little did he know, when he barged into a private state aboard an extra large limousine, about what would soon follow. Instinct had overtaken him when giving chase to some of them, to a rooftop despite his wounds, to the shopping district despite the reprimands that would fall on him, to a secret lab in his utter ignorance and stubbornness.
Confusing and threatening is the way forward, yet despite not knowing the way, somehow, he had always found it. Even when he looked away from it, away from the colossal waves, awaiting a hand that never reached out. Far easier it would be if answers could be provided on demand, if a hand was always at the ready to act as a guide. Yet, the path then taken would not be one's own, would it? The pressure of the second and third step is excruciating, as much as breaking the habit if you ever stop. Equally foolish to try and take the same road twice, for yesterday will never be tomorrow.
Wiping a lone tear, he closes the book and returns it to the chest, closing it afterwards. The soldier returns to the river, splashing and making ripples as he follows the small stream of water, finding an exit to the cave after some time. Looking back once he makes it outside, a castle fills his entire view, a castle in the shuffling shape of a crown, a small chain of spheres filled with constellations shining above it.
Standing over an abyss, perhaps floating would be more accurate, the castle emerges from the void, through the clouds. A myriad of roads and shapes deliver themselves to its gateway, waves coming and going about the shore in the color of the midnight sea, glimmering stars reflected in the surface as those celestial tears flash above the crown.
The towers of the edification rise and melt into the dark, the spiral bridges stretch to the point of vanishing from view. Thin, frail, almost sinking into the nothingness it stands over. Making sense of the curved, spiraling shapes that bend at impossible angles sends a small wave of dizziness to the soldier when staring too much into them, reminding him of times when trying to decipher parts of the jungle of calculus someone used to always reference. To him it all could be abstract and surreal, the odd crown-castle itself was only filled with never-ending labyrinths and, by the looks of its exterior, said corridors truly did meet no end, only merge together in an infinite loop.
The thought gets a chuckle out of him as he embraces his shoulders, wondering if he would have felt as he does now should he had always kept his memories on every single reiteration of his journey. Perhaps, it was for the best that he always returned to nothing on those first attempts. Maybe, starting over, even if it never truly was from zero, was what had allowed him to focus more on what is, what actually was, rather than on could have been, the roads he would never walk again even if in the same soil he stood upon.
And even then, in his unawareness, he probably was conscious of what had been, if only through hunches. Understanding the infinite extension of possible roads is beyond his capabilities, it would be as pointless as trying to grip onto air or shackle a river. And yet, he smiles at the winding roads that know no ending, at those that end lost within the darkness of the crown. It allows his features to relax as he rubs his legs, inhaling into the clear, saline air of the sea that greets the shore to this castle. Staring at the shower of stars that course through the unlimited paths, fighting a journey that refuses to change, there he stands in silence, in admiration of the complexity, of the reiteration. Taking one good breath he then departs from it, never looking back.
Nothing concrete is left in his hands, his ankles sink into the waves, causing a small ripple to meet the incoming tide of crystal clarity. And in between the blue waves and azure skies, the soldier walks to nowhere in particular, away from the castle and its infinite roads.
For within the void, the silence is where the deepest echoes resonate in one's soul. Long lost peers, people you've forgotten for many moons, words that had been stuck in your chest.
And despite the lack of any clear cut answer, despite having no idea which path is right, the soldier never looks back to either the castle or the stars above, marching ever forward with a destination etched behind his eyes. A flag that shall guide his steps amidst the confusion, a motive behind the actions sparked by what the unalterable complexity of the castle reminded him was truly worth safeguarding within his own crown.
December 4th, near 9 AM.
(Training Field.)
[Meiya]
Slow sips of air I take in while blinking, the distant circle all I can see. Pursing my lips, drying them and the front of my teeth, I rub the trigger for a moment before pressing the confirmation, sending the small shock into my forearm.
Sighing and wiping my forehead, I raise from the ground and meet a glow which eclipses the incoming daylight.
"You managed to hit the target, Mitsurugi-san!" Tamase loudly declares, a smile blossoming in defiance to the descending temperature.
"Is that so?" I accept the binoculars she offers and search for the target. My shot landed on the outermost circle, yet it did meet its mark. "Sigh… So I finally can ascertain a hit to the 800 meter mark, huh. Now it's a matter of replicating this in the simulators," I mull, holding some of my hair as I look upwards, to the fleeing and formless clouds, to the faint outline of the sun that shines through them.
"I still do believe it is a good result, after all the effort you've been doing," she insists, nodding yet not meeting my eyes, minding her words. "Considering the support systems we have in our TSFs, I'm certain your mid-range will improve much from now on."
"Yes, thank you," I return the nod, gaze fleeing to the unassuming soil, the mounds and idle targets in the training field. "I do hope that is the case. Regardless, thank you for the tutoring, Tamase," I smile her way, she hurriedly waves her hands to either side.
"N-No, it's no big deal, really," she insists, almost making herself smaller. "After all, you did cover me when the guards came to, well, clear the air with us," scratching the back of her head, gaze as dull as the ground, clouded as the sun is now, she proceeds to, unnecessarily, give a bow my way.
"Sigh… There is nothing to thank me for, they were indebted to an apology," I state, the echoes of the shootings from the others coursing through the air.
"Still, I'm grateful you stood by me then," she again bows down, both tone and sight not fighting the shrouding of clouds. "And anyways," she grabs an elbow, looking upwards again, "I did owe you for when you tutored me before."
"Hm? From before?"
"Come on, remember how I never managed to even score a draw in our CQC practices? You once advised me to try and wrestle a victory in what few hits I could deliver, and taking on the mindset has aided me much. Not only for CQC, but to conserve ammo during mid-range fighting now that we're practicing in the sims."
"I see," I merely nod back to her smile as she goes prone, ready to take her shot.
Raising the binoculars to my sight, all I see is our assigned target as Tamase delivers a hit to the bullseye, to its very center. Upon my confirmation, she lets out a heavy sigh and follows it with a strong gulp, fingers coiling and uncoiling in quick succession. For someone that always excels, the pressure of the peak must be toilsome. And for her case, it must be doubly so. With the singing of thrusters and the trails of smoke from TSFs dancing in the clouds above, we continue our assigned training.
Sadly, my first shot was my best. I missed my mark against the 800 target on all follow ups whereas Tamase only missed the bullseye in one occasion. It was still plentiful enough to have her gaze stumble to the ground, posture giving in to the weight of unseen boulders and whispers.
A whistle echoes, sending shivers and eliciting perfect straightness from my posture. "Squad, assemble!" Little does it take for us all to stand before her, she gives us all a once over, hands on her waist. "Report your results."
It would seem Ayamine and Sakaki are once again tied in their efforts, neither seem antagonistic nor is there any change in posture or expression when they report the results this time. Yoroi managed to remain ahead of them, as well of myself, and Tamase still is the only one who can attempt to land a hit against the 1100 meter mark. That is, so long as you're not here, of course.
The Instructor nods, scanning our faces, for long enough that a break in the clouds allows a thread of direct light to shower over us. "Very well, decent progress. You may refresh yourselves, I await you in the classroom in half an hour. The morning training is now over. Dismissed!" she states, we stand in attention and salute, she returns the gesture and departs.
"Siiigh… Can't believe I still can't hit the 800 mark regularly," Sakaki repines, tapping her glasses as she slouches towards a water tap.
"Gotta keep on trying. Small steps every day," Ayamine says, arms folded as she nods to herself.
"Yeah, but it kinda sucks that we still can't do something as simple as this," Yoroi shrugs, shaking her head and leaning on a wall. "Kinda hard to believe we can pilot already but still fail at the drills from basic."
"It is no failure to persevere in front of repeated setbacks," I say as I pass them, going towards the next water tap. "In comparison to previous results, we are showing improvement. There is nothing to be ashamed of." After all, there are times that, no matter the time you pour into an objective, someone will simply best your efforts with meager commitment.
Pushing the button a bit too strongly, the water hits my nose, I flinch away and cough before attempting to drink once more. How foolish of me, to still allow myself to be riled up by you. Yet, no amount of water cleanses the sourness that in me lingers. Wiping the dampness off my face, I sigh from my stomach and step away from the tap.
"I do agree with your words, to some an extent," Sakaki says, rolling up her shoulders, making her BDU flutter as she does. "It is still rather frustrating to see our sniping pale in front of Tamase's, however."
"If we were sent in a mission and she were incapacitated, I don't think anyone could match her eyes," Yoroi affirms, bending over to refresh herself.
Such words cause Tamase to compress herself as if suffering from the cold. "That's not true, I'm sure you could make do somehow. Especially now that we're piloting, the support systems can probably aid your sniping much."
"Still a bother to rely on the machine," Ayamine says, eyes narrow. "That didn't save us yesterday, it won't save us in the battlefield."
All of us look down, silence falling like dusk. How insensitive can someone be, to again bring this up. However, truer words couldn't have been spoken. Merely relying on the automated systems shan't allow improvement to flourish. If only you hadn't attacked Tsukuyomi, we could see this mock battle as a learning step. Now, instead of bestowing a tailwind, all it serves for is to remind us of the empty spot you left, the sorrowful events that in the hangar transpired. Even when you bested both cousins… all the spoils we are not capitalizing on due to your folly…
"Well, today is a new day," Sakaki says, voice raising, echoing a bit in the void of the track field. Taking some steps forward, turning around, her twintails curling over her shoulders, that finger once more traces circles. "I know our first sim run without Shirogane-kun didn't exactly end in success yesterday, but there is no point in lamenting what's already done. Are all of you on board with doing another nightly training after dinner?" All of us nod, she smiles. "I see, good to hear. Let's leave that talk for the PX, though. We do have quite the lectures left for now," she turns around, joining her hands and extending them upwards.
Yoroi once more tries and engage us in idle talk as we walk to the changing rooms to return to our fatigues, Tamase commenting on the earlier news instead of joining in the puns. Sadly, I cannot share their sudden optimism. To think that another evacuation is being considered, despite there being little to none volcanic activity. Why can't the government not respect the wishes of the people to remain in their rightful land? I wonder, what did you think of such an announcement, Sister? Was the press conference announced for tomorrow your own doing, or born from pressure of the administrators? And anyways, the army should strive to safeguard the people's wishes. It is unjust for-
"Hey, Meiya-san," Yoroi calls out, now walking in front of me, "what did you think of the poll?"
"Eh? Ah, my apologies, I was not paying attention."
"Oh, I see. Anyways," never losing the smile, she practically continues to overtake us on the hallways, as if propelled by a tailwind, "I was saying that this season of TV Mangas is really competitive, so there was a poll asking viewers which one would be the most watched by the end. I don't think there are any big releases until April next year so, which one do you think will win the title of better manga of the year?"
"Ah, well… I never really watched much TV Manga…"
Grandfather said dallying by the TV was unproductive, so we only ever saw documentaries or the news channels. Furthermore, I do believe that it detracts from the experience. Why not simply read the manga instead? Grandfather did enjoy reading with me a few, Samurai X was a marvelous experience to share with him, for example. The closeness of a reader cannot be replicated through a TV show. Also, waiting for the next episode is quite certainly torture. Albeit, the same does occur at the end of a tome in certain occasions. Cliffhangers, they must be one of the greatest sins a writer can commit.
"I think Drake Sphere Z is easily the holder of the title," Sakaki says, nodding with a shrug.
Ayamine surprisingly nods as well. "It's hands down the most popular, don't think there's anything that can match it."
"Well, I see why you'd say that," Tamase says, tapping her fingers, "but I think Tarot Catcher Cherry Blossom can be a good rival for the top spot," barely whispering, resembling more a minuscule purr, her steps wane a bit as she steals gazes at us.
"No shot frilly dresses can best the martial arts," Ayamine affirms, nodding to herself.
Which oddly causes Tamase's cheeks to balloon slightly. "Y-You don't know that. Cherry Blossom is really popular with the kids!"
"And the fujoshis," Ayamine retorts, frowning. All the rest grow silent, faces gaining heat despite no longer being outside.
"What is that supposed to mean? I have literally never heard of the term."
"Oh, those are the women that- Mmmmgh!" Yoroi is restrained by Sakaki, who binds upon her like an iron maiden.
"Don't ask, Mitsurugi. Please just don't," she then says, still maintaining her steadfast lock over Yoroi's being, who seems to be sinking upon herself the more blue her skin grows.
"Well, if you insist…" I relent, arms folding.
Sakaki sighs, releasing Yoroi who then gasps for dear life, skin regaining its proper color. She merely scratches her head along a light chuckle upon our squad leader's reprimands over 'sensitive' wording. This does somehow remind me of that one time when I asked Takeru about that special milk he had, and how strongly he refused to let me taste even a sip of it. Most unfair that is, Takeru. I was even asking sincerely and humbly then. Compared to his recent actions, that feels like such a distant memory.
Which one is the real you? The light-hearted and smiling comrade? The ruthless soldier that maimed the chasers in the CCSE and drove Tsukuyomi to true aggression?
Shaking my head, I sigh the blockade in my lungs, once more playing with my hair. "In any case, what is this 'Tarot Catcher' about? I've heard Drake Sphere is supposed to be based on a folktale, however I haven't the faintest of how one could apprehend esoteric cards."
"Oh, no, actually, the cards are magical," Tamase says, eyes glimmering once more, giving small hops as we resume our walk. "So, you see, she has to catch all the members of the Tarot and convert them from the seal of the previous owner to save her city."
"With the help of a plush lion and a totally straight angel," Ayamine deadpans, making a slow gesture with a closed hand which makes Tamase quiver, face set alight in either embarrassment, anger, or perhaps both.
"Ayamine!" Sakaki shouts, features contorting despite the flush that also permeates her face, the slow rocking of her lips.
"Why are you raising your voice? And anyways, celestial beings have no gender, do they?"
"Tell that to the writer and the rabid fans," Ayamine shrugs, brows narrowing.
"Did you… have a bad experience with this manga?"
"Well, no… The trope just annoys me, since some of my neighbors in the slums were, uh," she scratches her head, lips twisting in, shoulders compacting, "a bit too much into those types of characters. The walls were too thin and I rather forget those sounds, honestly."
"What type of sounds? What exactly are we speaking of?"
Yoroi opens her eyes wide, nodding as if in understanding. "You know, the male characters that the fujoshis-"
"Can we stop talking about that?!" Sakaki asks, paling as she facepalms, Ayamine nods and looks away, Yoroi chuckles dryly.
Tamase quivers in place for a moment before clearing her throat. "B-But you know, the last season has been really nice, going from the comments I've heard from the channels. I do somewhat miss having the time to watch it now," she then sighs and deflates, only the specter of her soul following us as she slumps to the tiles. "With how things are as of late, the show is the only way the story has to finish now that printing new material is impossible."
"That is right… It has been harsh, knowing one cannot pick up unfinished stories with the state of the nation as it stands."
Such simple a luxury, the joy of reading, has been denied to my people. And even if in the future the Empire regenerates, who knows how many literary pieces will remain forever unfinished? Our own literature will certainly be influenced by the deep marks of the invasion, as much as the scars of the world war marked the generations that after it came. That is… if we manage to remain standing, if our spirit endures these toilsome days.
"Well, I do wish we could at least be allowed to have a personal radio," Sakaki admits, playing with her twintails. "I could definitely use some background noise while reviewing my notes," she sighs, Ayamine nods.
"On that we can agree," so I nod too as my arms fold.
I have no complains about the selection of channels available in the PX, yet I am rather… hesitant to trust the veracity of a single source of information. But of course, obvious it is that Imperial stations would be banned in international soil, to avoid any possible political discourse to seep into the troop. Even so, would allowing a single channel besides the UN's one be such an impossibility? All that is allowed for us to select otherwise is the kid's channel, they are basically keeping us blind. Usually, I'd have no complains but now that this 'eruption' is being forwarded so heavily through all programs in the main channel…
"Still, Drake Sphere is taking the top spot, no doubts," Ayamine affirms, throwing a punch to the air, then places both wrists together, throwing them back and then forward, making claws with her hands for some odd reason. "Your magical girls can't do nothing against the Kamehadouken," she then smirks to Tamase's groans and squeaks.
"Ayamine, don't bully Tamase," Sakaki scolds, sighing and drawing circles again.
"I only said the truth," she shrugs, still smiling.
"We'll see about that, Ayameanie-san," Tamase retorts in unexpected tension, sharpening her gaze.
"Nah, you're all missing the obvious winner," Yoroi affirms, turning around to grin at us while walking backwards. "The second cour of Gettezinger Wing will definitely give Drake Sphere a run for its money!"
"Gettezin… What?"
"A TV Manga about a robot protecting Japan from cartoonish enemies," Sakaki notes, tapping her glasses.
"More like pro-Eishi propaganda," Ayamine retorts, rolling her eyes.
"That's not true," Yoroi retorts, eyes blazing. "Gettezinger is the ideal a pilot must strive to be! Sure, in reality we don't get any miracles in battle with something like the Zero OS to have our TSFs transform into a super robot like the Gettezinkaizer…" hunching momentarily, her backwards walking doesn't stop even as she raises and smacks her chest, "but it shows how important it is for everyone to do its share for a common goal. Gettezinger is the combined efforts of everyone in the show, that's why it's so strong. Because it carries the torch of the Empire, the fire of dreams towards the future every pilot must protect."
"That does sound compelling," I nod, Yoroi seems to gain sunshine around herself.
"Well, but remember it is a kid's show. The story-line isn't particularly a masterpiece," Sakaki notes, tapping her glasses. Once more drawing circles, her brows sink down and almost connect. "Realistically speaking, there's no way the dinosaurs or Abe-no-Seimei could stand a ghost of a chance against a real TSF."
"Dinosaurs? Wait, by Abe-no-Seimei, are you referring to the actual real life figure?"
"Yeah, the real one," Yoroi smiles and nods in quick succession, Sakaki and Tamase both sigh in unison, Ayamine gives me a narrowed stare. Oh, that's right… Yoroi does like to go into tangents about machinery, and here I am enabling her. The halo of sunshine growing behind her lithe shape, faster than suppression fire do the words flow out from her mouth. "You see, there is an arc when a portal to the past is opened, when its explained how the Gettezinger rays turned some iron into the alloy used for the machines, which is clearly just souped up Super Carbon, and why they have such crazy tech in the show, and then they have to fight the demon army of Abe-no-Seimei before-"
THUD!
Yoroi bumps into an MP, due to having been walking backwards, lost in her speech. Hurriedly turning around and giving a bow, her voice freezes back to her usual. "My apologies, sir!"
"Tch, can't you see where you're going?" The man says, unnecessarily loud, endowing a tightened expression.
"Must be truly nice, to walk as if you owned the place," a woman spits, venom slithering through her tongue. "What did we expect of that American's comrades?"
Coiling my hands in silence is all I can do. Such words did follow our steps yesterday, and Yoroi's miss would obviously be met with such hostility.
"…My apologies, I was not paying attention, sir," Yoroi reiterates, bowing down once more.
"Heh, wish I could be as carefree as a cadet again," the man says, giving us all a glare. "Of course, I didn't get the privilege to enjoy an officer's quarters back then, not to have delivered a Takemikazuchi to my doorstep."
"Yeah, we had to make due with refurb Gekishins," the woman folds her arms, brandishing fangs which drip of acid. "It's a shame the new batch doesn't get to learn proper humility, running on the hallways as they please."
"If you'd forgive me, we were not running. My comrade merely bumped into you, and she has already admitted to her mistake," I fold my arms, they glare at me.
"Oh, is that so?" The woman frowns, curling a strand of hair. "So you can have the freedom to bump into others and think a mere apology is enough to excuse your misconduct?"
"I did not-"
"We apologize, ma'am," Ayamine says, stepping forward and bumping my shoulder, bowing down by Yoroi's side. "We were simply lost in our discussion over the news of late."
"It was our miss, and it won't repeat itself. Please do accept our apologies, sir, ma'am," Sakaki follows suit, me and Tamase joining in.
"Tch… Whatever," the man waves, then pinches his nose as he walks away. "I was getting sick of the yank stench you give out. Just make sure you don't go around tackling your superiors, rookies."
The woman chuckles, also covering both lips and nose with a hand, coughing forcefully. "Well, what did we expect of these guys? If they thrashed the guards, some lowly MP aren't worth their respect, right?" And never losing the aggressive tint in their eyes, they slowly depart to the adjacent hallway, yet remain throwing glances at us.
Ayamine grabs Yoroi's shoulder and makes haste into our way to the changing room, away from their sight. No one says anything, Yoroi merely gives all a deep bow, fingers molten together in a prayer of apology, gaze dragged on the ground on the rest of the walk.
Sigh… All because of you. If we already had motives to be singled out, your folly has only made the animosity all the more strong. Loath I am to admit, this shan't be the only time altercations such as this will occur. Any excuse will be plentiful to try and spark an argument. It only proves I am right, and he should apologize to Tsukuyomi in the open as the trio did to Tamase and the rest.
…That is, whenever it is he returns. The Instructor said not a thing on the subject yet.
"Sigh… If only you hadn't attacked Tsukuyomi…"
"Hm?" Ayamine sends me a glare, unblinking.
"What?"
"You…" gaze narrowing, her hand leaves Yoroi's shoulder, crushing invisible rocks. "Are you blaming Special-kun for this?"
Imitating the expression, I scoff and look away. "It is obvious, isn't it? They not only mentioned him, but before his outburst Yoroi's miss wouldn't have been met with such hostility."
"Oh, so you're also blaming her?" She asks, the lines of fire in the frown deepening, intensifying. Yoroi looks up at me for a second, before once more turning her gaze to the ground, petrified into pure stone.
"I did not say anything of the sort, she was absentmindedly walking backwards and that was a mistake. Her apology wouldn't have been refused if not for… the particular situation we all are being made to endure," I state, arms folding, fully returning the stare that remains scanning me.
"Ayamine, Mitsurugi," Sakaki says, low, tapping her glasses, "if you start again, I will notify the Instructor of the argument."
"I was not starting anything," I turn away, nibbling at my bottom lip.
"Uncaring."
"What was that?"
"Didn't knew you were such a flaky comrade," she says, shrugging.
"You two, I told you to stop!" Sakaki orders, hitting her own thigh repeatedly.
"Not my fault she throws us under the bus without faltering," Ayamine spits out, turning away, patting Yoroi's shoulder and hastening both of their steps.
"Wait a- I did not-"
"Mitsurugi," Sakaki places a hand on my chest, shaking her head, "let it go."
"Wh- You… You certainly do not think I-"
"Stop, now. I am really going to inform the Instructor if any of you continues this argument. Ayamine dropped the issue, don't let your temper get the better of you," she says, staring straight into my eyes until I nod. She then pats my shoulder, sighing. "I know how you must feel, and even if you are right about this, there is no need to voice it out. Shirogane-kun will also be subjected to the same treatment as us, even if he apologizes for his actions."
"I am aware. I just…"
"L-Let's do our best to ignore the whispers," Tamase says, quivers more certainly, as our eyes meet. "We should make sure not to do anything wrong, and people won't have any real motives to reproach us."
"Sigh… I suppose that is the sole card left in our hand at this point," Sakaki shrugs. "Anyways, please remember not to start any arguments."
"I shan't. My apologies," she nods and us three hurry to the changing room, which Ayamine and Yoroi had already reached.
…Still, it does not change that you are the root of this state of affairs. Even when you almost bested Tsukuyomi, when you could have been a fellow… Why?
Same Day. Around 06:30 PM.
(Simulator Room.)
[Marimo]
"So, do any of you have any explanation for today's pathetic results?" The five girls drill their gaze to the ground as I stare at them. I can only sigh and shake my head at the silence.
Yesterday was the same, they failed their simulation thoroughly. I had thought that giving them some respite this morning would do them good, but the afternoon training found the same setbacks. And this last run met the same result, unchanging as the weather. Though, it's not like I don't know the reason behind their increasingly depressed mood, and I can sympathize.
Still not a single word on Shirogane's condition, absolute silence. I can't blame them for being worried, for the whispers and gazes that on their shadows linger to affect them, but for the situation to have gotten this far inside their heads?
I might need to let go off the Reaper for a moment, I wouldn't want to deal a killing blow to their morale. They were having such a good streak, for it to be demolished so completely despite the decent result of the mock battle, all things considered. Yet, being soft won't prepare them for what awaits. Yuuko won't show them no respite if they ever falter, their moods cannot be an obstacle for their duties in the STF.
Tamase and Yoroi haven't retorted at all, except for apologies. Even Ayamine has kept quiet, despite the friction I expected to see between her and both Sakaki and Mitsurugi. To further pressure them would not be wise… but reality is not particularly merciful. I suppose, it is a lesson they must learn, that they must have apprehended already, that they require for whenever it is they join the STF. I am not aiming to scar them, there's no need to go as far as I did with Isumi. All I want is for them to toughen their skin, to return my stare even if all they have to offer is an admission of failure. Be brave and show some grit, my students.
Inhaling sharply, crossing my arms as I take a stomp forward, I let the air and my voice boom from my stomach. "So no one is going to even try to speak up? What's up?! Didn't think I had trained a bunch of pansies. Is your performance so lacking it doesn't deserve even words of defense?" I glare into their eyes, which flee mine in a heartbeat.
Tamase and Yoroi hang their heads even lower, hands subtly shaking. Mitsurugi and Ayamine burn away, lips compressing and swallowing the defeat. C'mon, don't let me trash talk you!
"Instructor, we're all… stumped on the start of Level B," Sakaki says, stepping forward despite the tension in her voice. Atta girl, if the leader doesn't step up, who will? "We have never fought against so many hostiles before, so we're all… having quite some difficulties with the mission."
"Alright, I can accept that explanation. Every team gets stuck at some point," I nod, taking a step back, softening tone and expression. "Now, how do you explain your lacking attention and coordination through the development of the scenario? Frankly, you all were making splendid progress thus far, yet to see your formation crumble so easily is sending some… doubts to my prior assessment," I narrow my eyes, giving them all a side glance. Instead of raising in support of Sakaki, the other four can only lower their gazes further into the sea, drown in shame.
"We… have had our difficulties coordinating as a single element against a team with an advantage," she affirms, tapping her glasses. "If someone is to blame, I am the sole responsible. My plans… might not be the most appropriate for this situation, and that is causing our formation to not adapt as well as it should," she states, breaking eye contact.
I thought she would blame Ayamine for not following her set of rules or even Mitsurugi for the charges she continues to do. Well done, Sakaki. I suppose you truly are past placing the spotlight on the mistakes of others, instead trying make the most of the situation while shouldering the responsibilities thrust onto the leadership you have. I nod back, she returns to the line despite not dulling the paralyzing grip of tension which binds her.
However, the others have also been off. It is not solely Sakaki's miss, and a team that overburdens their leader is bound to crack apart. While I would like to compliment her for having the balls to take the blame for the team, the others need to start putting some effort into supporting her statements, too. They were making such good progress too, and that mock battle was surprisingly not bad for a couple of amateurs against Royal Guards. If only Shirogane hadn't got injured…
Ruffling my hair, looking at the sims I sigh. "I think you all know that punishments are given to the squad as a whole. I commend you for the change in attitude, Sakaki, however, you sink or swim as a group. Tomorrow, you'll have to run double the laps before the mock battle at noon," I announce, the color seems to take a bluer shade on their faces, nodding despite the paralysis they all seem to be enduring. "I expect you all to get your panties in place and start delivering good results again, and soon. You should review your strategies together to find a breakthrough in what has stumped you. That is all. Dismissed!"
"Um, Instructor…" Mitsurugi speaks up, taking half a step forward, "could you allow us one more try on the mission?"
"Hmm… Are you all in agreement?"
"Yes, ma'am," they all retort in unison, giving a bow.
"Sigh, fine. We can perform one more attempt, but only that. Failing the mission will earn you five more laps to run tomorrow. Do you accept the terms?" They all nod, tightening their expressions and postures, phalanxes about to advance. I nod with a smirk, they all smile and thank me.
They salute, but Yoroi then steps forward towards me. Not meeting my eye she speaks up in a shaky voice. "Instructor, uh, may I ask if have you received word about Shirogane?" The rest fixate their gaze on me, looking like abandoned puppies, the luster present moments ago vanishing like coffee in front of Yuuko.
When did they become so dependant on him? They weren't like this before he arrived… I mean, it's not like I haven't noticed their change in attitude after the CCSE, but still. I am glad Shirogane pushed them to improve, and seeing him sharpen his already exquisite skillset was a pleasure to behold, even if he was also a natural on the cockpit. But he didn't teach them the most important thing: how to fight without him.
If Arai suddenly disappeared one day during our piloting training regime, I would have felt off too. The rapport that's built between comrades is one hell of a drug, when someone you're used to work with leaves or dies, it isn't easy to find another you're comfortable with so quickly. They're experiencing that right now. And after the whole mess it caused, the rumors and all that crap. That's why I cannot entirely blame them for the failures thus far. Level B is a step up in complexity for the missions, what with the hampered datalink and multitude of sniping TSFs. And Shirogane was the central pillar, the playmaker of their team. The covering cloak that safeguarded Ayamine's and Mitsurugi's charges, the baton that signaled the tempo of Yoroi and Sakaki, and the shield that ensured Tamase could have the space and peace to land her shots.
And now he's gone, and they can't deal with the void.
I would like to know what was of him, but Yuuko refuses to tell me anything. He was supposed to be on the infirmary on B5F, but she moved him somewhere else and I can't access his data. What the fucking hell is she doing to him?! I knew he had an S5 lock when he arrived, and parts of his data were still locked, but to not disclose his situation in the slightest?
I can only heave a sigh and shake my head. "I have received no words. I will try to ask around for anything, but even then there should be no need to worry. Shirogane should be returning to the squad soon enough." The relief in their eyes is palpable, their postures lose tension. Well, let's give them a little poke. "I'm sure you all miss Shirogane much, seeing him in the suit during training. Those abs and that butt must be a nice motivation source for you, am I right?" A flinch, a flush, clogging on their throats remain their voices, except Ayamine who just glares back while the rest dig their gaze to the ground.
Sigh… You have no idea how much I envy you. To be young and passionate again. Enjoy these feelings while you can, girls. One day he might really die, and maybe you'll regret not voicing your affection for the rest of your life. Just like me, but in the end it was going to be pointless. Sigh… Being alone is what suits me best anyways.
"Instructor… Please do not mock us." Mitsurugi looks up, unsheathing her glare, vanquishing the emotions. "We all are merely concerned over the state of cadet Shirogane, nothing else," she states, nodding to herself. I would believe you, if not for how much you in particular stare at him.
"Come on, loosen up a bit," I smile at them, shrugging lightly. "You all have been fighting like a barrel full of shit, and it's not because you lack the skill. He isn't dead, he's just recovering from the shock. Don't let this get to you, some comrades will be sent to medbay more times than you'll be able to count, believe me," I say, low, they all nod and sober up again. "Well, let's get on with the training. To your units!"
Without the waste of a second, they turn and hurry to the sim assigned to each. Rubbing my nose, I can only sigh again. I am not expecting any change in this last run, but hopefully they can get used to his absence with more drills. Even after he returns, I should keep Shirogane from enabling these bad habits that came to light. Hmm… I know, let's have them all fight together, as a real squad. No point in repeating isolated battles, and I'm not too confident I'll be able to properly focus on two battles at the same time for too long this late.
Sitting back at my post, quickly prepping the settings takes me no time. Surprisingly, they have no qualms with my idea, asking me only a minute to debate their strategy. And so, deciding to spectate during the early portion of the mission, I push the buttons, the green light filling my monitor, those five faces submerging in tension as the starting sign goes up.
Five pods are roaring in the rather empty room, the remaining soldiers idling by deciding to head to the PX. The dots start to stop their advance, heartbeats escalating. Once again, unable to break the lock of the aggressors.
"04, stop breaking formation!" Sakaki shouts, trying and failing to grant cover to Ayamine's advance, resulting in a hit to an arm, a loss of a rifle.
Instead of compacting their formation, cover each other's flanks, Mitsurugi rushes forward once again, spraying her shots pointlessly. Despite shooting down one aggressor, she is easily overpowered and forced to retreat. Again trapped in a narrow area, she, Ayamine and Sakaki have been disconnected from Yoroi and Tamase, who cannot grant cover or support as they're trading volleys with the second flight of hostiles.
"I was only acting as a vanguard should!" Mitsurugi raises her voice and shield. "You have not given me the appropriate cover thus far, 01."
"Even if you're the vanguard, you have to remain close to your allies! We have to retreat and regroup with 03 and 05," Sakaki orders, firing missiles to facilitate the tactic.
"What are you saying? If we break through the blockade, this flight will fall!" Mitsurugi protests, insisting on the aggressive idea. "03 and 05 possess the skill to handle their adversaries at mid-range, retreating will only have us pincered!"
"02 kinda has a point," Ayamine says, low, "but we can't simply head to meet their aggro like this. I suggest a hit and run approach to regroup afterwards," she suggests, dropping her blade and finding the rifle she had lost. At least she's starting to cooperate.
Mitsurugi protests, the buildings they're hiding behind begin to crumble. Yoroi and Tamase are forced to flee, the lack of coordination separates them further from the other three. Sigh… It's always those seconds, those precious seconds that in real life would cost you your life.
Taking off my headset, I pinch my nose while inhaling slowly, wanting to cough. "Can't believe you're all doing worse than last time. Seriously, this is all Shirogane's fault."
"What is my fault now?"
"Wh- S-Shirogane?!" I jolt up, and to my surprise I find the messy chestnut hair and eyes returning my gaze, a brow raised in puzzlement.
He then stands upright, his rather long hair fluttering as he salutes me with a small smirk. "Good evening, Instructor. It's been like three months since we last saw each other. How's it going?"
What the- How is he- Why didn't I get a- No, focus! I cough as I stand up, pressing the buttons for the simulation to proceed without my input. Waving my bangs and straightening myself, I stare into him, his cheery expression does not change in the slightest.
"Shirogane, first of all, how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking, ma'am."
"I see… I suppose you've suffered no lasting injuries?" He shakes his head, bangs fluttering. "Was your hair always this long?"
"Huh?"
"Your hair, it's down to your shoulders. I do not recall it being this long." Also, what is up with that odd headband he's wearing?
"…That's what you're concerned with, Instructor?" He gives me a side glance, brows narrowing.
"Ahem… Well, matters not," I might be misremembering, after all. "In any case, I assume you were sent here to train?"
"Vice Commander Kouzuki sent me to watch the evening training, and left to your judgment if I should join in the sim runs. I'm here merely to stand and show myself, basically."
"Is that so? Then, let me cut to the chase." I take a step closer, narrowing my eyes, aiming my barrel, the scythe at him. If there is any doubt on what transpired… "What happened during the mock battle, Cadet Shirogane?"
"I got triggered by the words 1st Lt. Tsukuyomi said to me during our fight."
"Triggered?"
"Uh, really angry, I mean. She kept taunting me, saying stuff she shouldn't have. After she knocked me to the ground I hit my head hard, and then I snapped. And when I tried to attack her seriously, my body couldn't take all the G-Forces of my movements, apparently. I won't make excuses for my behavior, I made a miss and caused the base unnecessary problems," he then gives me a deep bow.
His voice did not falter, but it lacks the usual cheer, the energy he always exuded. Almost as if reading a script. When returning himself upright, his composed expression meets mine in silence, not losing the small smile.
With the explosions in the monitors as the sole background noise, I merely nod. "I see. Then, what exactly happened to you? Anything I should know of, possible injuries, any further punishments, or where you were so far. Since you were taken off the medbay in B5F I assume you must have had some… complications?"
"Oh, kinda. Turns out that jumping off a cliff ain't exactly a good idea, you see."
"What? Wait, what are-"
"Luckily there was enough snow to break my fall, otherwise things would have gotten ugly for real," he continues, unabated, giving small nods to the air. "And that we landed close to that cave that connected to the way back, too. A nat twenty, that was."
"Excuse me, where and how did-"
"And don't get me started on the mess that came with those twin babel towers of cake. I could feel my body giving up any and all hopes of a healthy life in front of that. Seriously, that was like dooming me to having diabetes."
"…Shirogane, what exactly are you talking about?"
"I'm answering your question, ma'am, of course," he smiles, arms crossing. "My time away was rather eventful, you see."
Blinking erratically, I cannot compute his words. Only an explosion in the monitor breaks me away from the incoming headache. "So you're telling me you, somehow, dealt with all that while incapacitated? Perhaps, you should have remained resting if you were made to face such excruciating trials in the medbay," I mock, shrugging, narrowing my eyes.
He simply nods, scratching the back of his head. "Should have stayed chillin' there according to Kouki, but you guys would miss me if I did. So here I am, with no more continues to spare. I know things won't be particularly smooth from now on, but I shall not allow any whispers to bring you or the squad further problems, Instructor," he says, poker face in place as he salutes me again.
"…Shirogane, while I am thankful for the last phrase, the rest makes absolutely no sense at all. Is this some kind of joke?"
"No, you ordered an answer out of me and I obliged. However, the orders from Vice Commander Kouzuki supersede yours, so all I can do is give you a random answer instead," he says, breaking eye contact. "If you want to know what was of me and why was I not allowed to rejoin the squad today, you are free to request the report from the Vice Commander, if you so desire."
"Sigh… You could have said she forbade you from speaking, you know?"
"She didn't do that, though."
"Then, why-"
"I'm being," he smiles, shrugging, "careful. So," he turns to the monitors, "looks like they're having a hard time, huh."
"Well, it is obvious. Level B is where most cadets face their first roadblocks, after all."
"So what made you say their performance is my fault?" He raises a brow, staring.
"Because their cooperation dropped faster than a brick thrown into a lake since the mock battle with the guards. Now that you're not there to cover their flanks, their formation is crumbling. Even some of their moves are less polished than before, losing luster, speed, and precision. It's as if their lessons were slipping from their minds when inside the cockpit." I sigh, shaking my head as Tamase gets shot down. It does happen at times to rookies, they zone out and their mind goes blank. Learning to fight the freeze reaction is a must, however, so these training runs are not completely pointless.
"…Slipping their minds, huh," he comments in a whisper, features tightening. "So Instructor," he looks back at me, straight into my eyes, completely firm and sober, "should I remain watching the training?"
"Are you suggesting… you wish to join in the run?"
"If you so allow," he smiles, standing in attention.
"…Do you have the permission for it?"
"I wouldn't be here otherwise. Of course, you can contact the Vice Commander if you so desire," he gives a little bow, that small, almost creepy smile never vanishing.
It's odd, Yuuko wouldn't omit such a detail. Sure, she does tend to 'forget' to mention stuff to me but something like this deserves a report. I suppose, she did tell Shirogane about it and he's merely being… careful as he mentioned. His skin tone is even, there are no motes or redness to it. No eyebags, no delay in his words or gestures, truly polished and refreshed. Perhaps a bit too well, for how he should be after such a crash. And that smile, the mini smirk that refuses to leave, the stare that dives into mine and nowhere else, refusing to let go.
"…I assume you will be allowed to take part in mock battles from now on?"
"I do not know. Vice Commander Kouzuki did not mention that to me, I assume I might be losing the chance to properly pilot as punishment for my miss," he affirms with a nod.
"Is that so? Well, there's little to be done. It is rather late already… but if you have been given leave of medbay, let's have you make up for the time lost. You may go to get changed into your suit," he nods, smile widening, "however," I place a hand on my waist, raising my voice and chin, for the few onlookers that have not stopped staring, "due to your folly, I shall have you attempt this mission on your own. Also, I will not tolerate any misconduct from now on. Are we clear?"
Without even gaining tension, without changing his posture, he salutes me. And gains a wider smirk, showing me his teeth, as his eyes narrow and tighten, clashing waves within them. "Of course, ma'am."
Saying nothing else, he turns on his heels and exits the sim room in a jog. I glare at the eyes that snooped about, sending them packing. Sigh… Well, at least he's back and uninjured. Even if his spirits seem a bit too high, Shirogane might be trying to cheer himself up for all I know. Frankly, I cannot imagine how Yuuko must have reprimanded him once he woke up. Thinking twice, he didn't refer to her as 'Sensei' even once during our talk, did he? The reaction to my last words… is perhaps how he might be feeling inside as of now. I can't believe he came up with such a tale upon my question, though.
Rechecking on the mission, seeing they were again on the losing side sends another sigh down my throat. Idly watching the monitor, I pick up my comms and search for Yuuko's personal ID. Calling her own unit is only in case of emergencies, but I believe I deserve a small report as of now. Though, time might be something she's lacking right now, to have chosen to send Shirogane just like that.
The tone rings for a moment, before the line picks up. "Kouzuki here," Yuuko says, sober and still. Stinging like snow hitting my face.
"XO, would you have some time?" I ask, slow.
"What is it now? I am rather busy."
"I only wanted to ask a single question if-"
"Out with it, what do you want?" She hurries, barely restraining the blizzard.
"About Shirogane's situation, I wanted to know if-"
"There are no updates, and there will be no updates," she spit out, almost hateful.
"Huh? Wait, what do you-"
"Marimo, I don't have a single fucking femtosecond to waste right now. So please do me a favor and don't ask me about this again. Are we clear? Yes, thanks. Later."
Only the empty tune echoes into me after the angered retort. No wonder he choose to play dumb, when Yuuko grows this sharp and cold there is nothing to be done. I assume, something delicate is going on behind curtains and has upset her greatly. Shirogane might be related to it, perhaps not, maybe she simply sent him back due to not having time to properly explain anything to me. Maybe she simply moved him to another medbay to prevent any altercations with other soldiers. Having to 'waste' time on Shirogane when other more delicate issues pile on the timetable must have caused her a headache. In which case, Yuuko's venomous words must have been reprimand enough for Shirogane.
Turning my attention to the training once more meets me with a new and more compact formation, a diamond pattern to their flight. No longer having long range options now that Tamase is gone has forced them to try and pierce through the pincer together.
A few volleys meet their mark, ammo is running low in complete opposition to their heartrate. Windows are blasted, specks of glass flutter amidst the gunpowder and pitch-dark smoke. Fire follows their foot-marks, preying upon their shadows. Missiles rain down, preventing their advance, a ring of fire surrounding their every flank.
"Looks like them rookies are havin' a rough time," someone comments, looking up I find a light blue gaze and a hand raising in a wave. "Hey, Instructor. How's everything today?" Hayase says, cracking a smile.
"Sigh… I suppose you can guess."
"Stumped on Level B, huh," Munakata chuckles, drinking from a small can. "I guess even your best cadets will face such a challenge at times."
"Everyone does, really. I only hope this doesn't stall them for long," I say, rubbing my forehead while stealing a glance at the monitor, the advance of the blue dots. "So, what are you two doing here?"
"Just bored," Hayase shrugs, finishing her can, crushing it and throwing it towards a bin. "Our trainings are done for the day, and we just got a lot to think about."
"We were hoping to borrow the sims for a moment," Munakata says, then looks to the monitors, grasping her chin, "but I didn't think there would be still someone training this late."
"They get points for persevering," Hayase nods to the monitor. "Still, I do pity them. At least the Reaper didn't have us train until this hour," she chuckles back at me.
"Honestly, perhaps I should have," I return the smile, shaking my head. "Might have done something to mend those manners of yours, Hayase."
"Oh, Instructor, don't be silly. You can't improve what's already perfect," she says, giving little pats to her biceps. "You and I both know I shall forever be your number one pupil."
"Heh, I wouldn't be so sure. Someone did thrash you really badly a few days ago," Munakata says with a smirk, raising a single brow as she slits her throat with a thumb, which obviously makes Hayase seethe for a second.
"Wait, really? Hayase, someone bested you?"
"Eh? Ah, w-well… It was a draw, in all honesty," she says, curling a strand of hair, compacting her posture.
"Still, to have driven you to such lengths… I am amazed, honestly."
"If only she had relied on her comrades instead," Munakata comments, resting on Hayase's shoulder, poking the outer rim of the closest ear. "You truly should have done something about this gal's addiction to close combat, Instructor."
And again, they start to argue. At least Hayase now has someone who complements her well, even if it infuriates her. Despite all that has happened since then, to see you two can still joke about a defeat is a small consolation. Perhaps, one day, these five will see this day in the same manner. Despite the fact that they're almost out of ammo and- Oh, now Mitsurugi got shot down. Well, I suppose this shall end in another loss.
Looking up as my two pupils watch the monitor amidst their bickering, I spot Shirogane as he comes closer, trying to adjust his headgear to not catch onto his hair or conflict with the headband he still has on him. For some reason, his steps freeze when seeing Hayase and Munakata. Taking on a more sober expression and in slow motion he approaches, keeping a mindful space between himself and the two women.
"Hm? Who're you?" Hayase asks as she sees him.
"Isn't he… Oh, the sixth guy from the squad, right?" Munakata nods, ruffling her hair.
"Yes, that's me," Shirogane replies, barely audible. "Good evening, 1st Lt Hayase, 1st Lt Munakata," saluting them, his eyes do not fully meet theirs.
They return the gesture, Hayase with both brows corking down. Before she blasts forward, eyes widening. "Ah! You're the one who bested my record in the sims!"
"Yes, that's right. The hotshot here might truly take your number one spot, 1st Lt Hayase," I remind with a smirk, giving a light pat to Shirogane's arm as I start configuring the sim unit for him.
"Mmgh… We'll see, we'll see. Anyways, you, Shirogane."
"…Yes?" He replies, still minding his tone and space.
She smirks, flashing him a gun with a hand. "I sincerely hope we can one day cross strikes. I owe you quite a debt, you see."
"A debt?" He raises a brow, tilting his head.
"In all honesty, we should probably thank you," Munakata says with a nod, no second layer to her words. "Thanks to that superb showing on your first sim run, we seem to be close to rehabilitating Hayase here."
"Oi, mind your words, you traitor," she spits out, eyes roaring in storm.
"You… still remember that?" He asks, blinking fast, features relaxing.
"Of course I do!" Hayase bursts forward, again flexing an arm, making a gun. "One of these days, you and me are gonna have a match to see who's the real top scorer of this Surface Pilot Academy, Eight-kun."
Coughing as I stare to dispel her usual aggro, she gives a minute nod in apology. However, when I look back at him, I find him chuckling lightly and losing the smirk, instead replaced by a smile, small, honest, as he no longer stands in attention and lowers his guard.
"I see… It'll be a pleasure to spar with you, if we ever get the chance to," he nods, with the usual cheer back in his eyes.
Which sends starlight into Hayase's, who lightly chuckles. "Heh, I knew you and I would see eye to eye. Still, compared to that day, you do look kinda…" she bends and tilts her head, staring at him from different angles, "different. What's up with your hair?"
"Oh, so you like guys with long hair. I didn't-"
"Shut it, Munakata!"
"You two, keep it down," I remind, both of them give a little nod, Munakata giggling, Hayase groaning. "Shirogane, don't let them intimidate you. These two are always like this."
"Haha, no, it's fine, really. And about the hair, I'm just too lazy to cut it, that's why I, uh, have the headband in place, too," he admits, poking the odd, mechanical-looking add-on.
"I see… So, you're going to train at this late hour?" Hayase inquires, smirking a bit as she taps her lower lip. "I like your moxie, kid. Lemme see if you besting my record was a fluke or not."
"If he breaks another record, should I tell the Captain-"
"You're dead if you do!"
"Hayase, really, don't be so hostile," I sigh and shake my head, she nods an apology. "Furthermore, he's going to be taking on the mission on his own due to… certain circumstances. Don't make a bet out of this."
"Wow, really? But I…" she scratches her cheek, stealing glances at him, "I thought both sides had chosen to apologize to the other. Hey, you're really being punished?" She asks, getting closer.
"Why do you ask?" He counters, not minding the intrusion on his personal space, not changing his expression a single bit.
"Well, if you are, then that means the Captain- I mean, the UN is admitting to-"
He starts to chuckle, halting her spiel with a raising handwave, making Hayase and Munakata both share a puzzled gaze. "I am only being punished for being a fool and letting things escalate. Do not think too hard about it, please."
"Is that so?" Neither of them seem to buy into his words, sharing another pondering look.
"In any case, Shirogane, get to unit number six," he nods, giving a salute to the two of them before walking his way to the unit. "Sigh… You two, you better not delve too deep into his situation. Even I didn't get any answers thus far."
"Huh?! Really?" Hayase recoils, gulping.
"Yes, Shirogane was prohibited from mentioning anything, and me delving for a simple answer ended very poorly. Give him some space if you see him on the hallways, please," I ask, both of them immediately nod back. I return the gesture with a smile as I finish the setup on Shirogane's sim. "So how is Isumi faring?"
Munakata chuckles dryly. "The Captain is as immutable as ever. It seems an important mission for us is in the horizon, so our regime was made more severe from today onward."
"Kinda feels like we're back at basic under you," Hayase comments with a smile.
"Really? Is she overburdened at the time?" I know Isumi can be too harsh on herself, on her plans and ideas, but she never, and I mean never, has gone as far as I did during my training drills. And to make both Hayase and Munakata voice the admission to the enhanced intensity, what manner of course has she devised?
"No, it's not that," Hayase scratches her ear, as if unsure on continuing. "You see, the Captain lost a bet and the new methods we're testing are a bit, uh, how to put it…"
"Unorthodox and quite savage," Munakata says, in complete sobriety. "Frankly, we were expecting to run into you either in the PX or the hallways, and wanted to ask for your input on some maneuvers we're having trouble with. We, uh, thought to be making decent enough progress, until we ran into a certain roadblock a few days back."
"I see… I suppose I can give the control logs a look, if Isumi and Yuuko gave you permission."
"Sigh… Thank you, Instructor!" Hayase beams at me, Munakata instead gives a bow. "We can't share everything with you, but there are a few pages we did get the permission for. Can we pass by your room tomorrow before roll call?"
"Yes, I do not mind. Oh," the red alert sounds, the last of them was shot down. "The exercise has finished. Cadets, you may disembark," I speak as I shut off the units and projection, sighing as I see Ayamine hit the unit and Sakaki grip at her face, the rest merely unable to even lift their chins.
"Should we give you some space?" Munakata asks, I nod and they move out of sight, back to the rails.
I move to meet them, all of them stall their descent from the sims. Slow and unsteady are their steps, even more their gazes. I don't know what is in worse shape, the virtual pincushions their TSFs ended up as or their current expressions. Standing in a line, forcing the hands to remain by the seams, the gazes locked at an invisible target, they await my words as I scan them, one by one, top to bottom, leaving my eyes on theirs for a second.
"…Well, I certainly didn't expect you would best the course in this attempt," a flinch, lips regressing, eyes wishing to squint, "and there is much you did wrong in this occasion. There is little else to comment on, save for the fact that I believe you should already have the answers to the problem you are facing in this mission. Try and think from your comrades' point of view, hasten your decisions, and you will clear all drills that remain in your way. That is all. Dismissed!"
"Salute!" All of them do so, relaxing, sinking once I return the gesture.
"Now squad, there is one last matter we must tend to," I say, arms folding, and all of them stall a reaction, looking at me. "As you were partaking in the training, Shirogane came to announce his return to the curriculum."
"Huh?! Really?" Sakaki asks, almost stuttering.
"Instructor, was he unhurt?" Yoroi comes a few steps closer, hands joined tightly.
"Did he receive any punishments? Or injuries?" Tamase follows right after, staring unblinking.
"…Where is he now?" Ayamine inquires, looking around, then silently holding my gaze.
"Alright, calm down! Back to the line!" They again form up, not regaining their stiffness, still staring in worry. Siiigh… "Shirogane was not injured, and seems to be fine. He cannot disclose whatever kept him away today, nor anything regarding what could have been arranged between him and the guards. However, since he has missed a day of training and was feeling up to the challenge, he is now in unit six at the ready to partake in the same course you've been taking thus far."
"What?!" Mitsurugi's eyes contort, breaking formation. "Instructor, I do not believe it wise. If he was kept in medbay for an entire day, allowing him into the sim is-"
"A few hours won't truly make any difference, Mitsurugi. If he was given permission to come by, it is fair to assume he is well enough to resume his training. Also, this is a sort of punishment for him," I say, endowing a colder, slower tone. "Since his actions have caused this squad too much trouble already, I believe having him train on his own at night to be a fitting arrangement." And it will keep anyone that thinks he's moving on without repercussions.
"…Ma'am, that is not a wise decision," Ayamine retorts, eyes narrowing. "To single out a member of the team will only work to the detriment of the whole unit. We sink or swim as a unit, thus I believe continuing to train together would be in our best interests," she says, firm and unwavering, even in front of my direct stare.
"…That is fair. However, individuals can also be punished on their own. Do no think you can shield yourselves behind your unit, you shall be held accountable personally if there are repeated issues of misconduct. This is merely my way to test Shirogane, nothing else. Now then, you may retire to the changing rooms or stay here and watch his run," I nod their way, returning to my seat.
All five of them huddle close and debate, Ayamine again saying something or the other as she moves away which causes Mitsurugi to try and follow after, raising her voice, yet is restrained by both Tamase and Yoroi jumping in front of the volleys. Their ruckus calms down as they realize there are a few onlookers, deciding to remain close to watch, then left to suffer through whatever Hayase and Munakata are saying in dares when they approach, both wearing smirks. Sigh… Please don't add fuel to the fire, you two.
Putting my headset on, everything in sight is in working order. A moment of checks and confirmations, I bring his unit into the view. "06, are you prepared?"
"06, all green. Ready and in standby," he nods in the projection, a sharp, piercing tint to his eyes as he grips the controls a few times.
"Alright. The course is due to start in T minus One. Be at the ready," I tell, he nods and, again, gives out a small smirk.
Only after the initial beeps resonate, only after his dot blasts away towards the enemy do I realize he had a particular choice of loadout on his virtual Fubuki.
Two blades held in a reverse grip, a single rifle in the pylon which was active and ready to fire.
"This is my life, a survival that knows no end," I hear in a tune over my headset. The smirk in place, a gentle swing of his head, Shirogane sings.
Even as the enemies all fall upon him, he continues to press on through the fire downpour. Singing out of tune all the while, he slices the aggressors in twain, no hesitation in the approach.
From a barrel roll into a bounce on an enemy, altering his speed in zigzags, drawing arcs over the smoke, landing behind the chasers, his blade falling upon them like curtains. Those who try and prey upon his shadow find the pylon's stare transfixed onto them, even the fleeing ones cannot match his tempo.
Not a single speck of damage, save for the one he inflicts onto the frame with his piloting. Not having used even half of his fuel thus far. And yet, his eyes are almost closed. Squinted, downcast, as if he were, perhaps, watching an old photograph. The singing turning into a whisper, a sigh giving out.
Hayase remains fixated on the monitor, slack-jawed and wide eyes even as Munakata shakes her shoulder, also looking slightly disturbed for some reason. The other five simply stare, as gargoyles atop a castle.
I, too, can only stare as my mouth becomes dry and air fails to reach inside. Not at the violent mirage that conquers the danger zone, but at the lone tear that drips from the fallen expression Shirogane makes, letting out a repressed howl through gritting teeth as his spinning attack rends an element apart, as his reverse grip grows intimate with cockpits and engines.
As he slumps into the seat once the mission is over, hiding his face from view, I take off the headset, shut off the projection. And choose to allow him to rest, until he tames the hiccups in his breathing.