17 Fighting

"Rice cubes... not tasty..."

Mio says this with a sad expression after eating a food cube.

To Jin, Jake's meals here had been irregular for some time now.

Rather, they were familiar.

"Jin, let's go eat at Jake's place."

"No. Jake's shop is closed now—no ingredients left."

"Hmm..."

Clearly dissatisfied.

But Jin has no room to worry about such changes.

Sitting to Jin's left on the sofa, Mio earnestly recounts what happened today.

"Hey, Jake showed me this..."

After work.

The night of who knows how many since Mio began living with him.

Usually, he'd forget about the training cadets' drills, which usually troubled him, and focus instead on how to spend time with Mio.

But not today.

Recalling the conversation before returning home.

◆ ◆ ◆

"Wait!"

A bad feeling had already settled.

The kind of person he’d been seeing lately—those not from the training academy.

Most were officers of at least mid-level rank.

And after the lecture ended that day, he was summoned.

——Deployment for fourth-year and third-year cadets had been decided.

"Fourth-years might be acceptable, but sending third-years now skips a full year of required development. It’s reckless!"

"Instructor. I assume you’ve already heard, but the current fleet situation allows no room for speculation."

"I understand. Yet I cannot see how sending untested cadets into combat would be of any use."

Jin did not budge an inch, despite the reassuring words from his superior.

Too soon.

It was too soon—by any measure.

"Pushing third-years into combat at this stage offers little strategic value."

No retreat. Not now.

Jin’s demeanor, his words—everything about him seemed to press down on the other man, who visibly flinched.

A lieutenant colonel does not rush to the front lines lightly.

He was being overpowered by Jin—the ace—only two months separated from the front.

Yet a man remained calm, slipping in smoothly.

“Reason’s simple. Instructor Higashi. Their skill level is high. That’s all.”

“Lieutenant…!”

A strained sound escaped Jin’s lips.

The words that had pushed him into his current position were enough to draw the attention of the others.

“I’ve reviewed their results since you took charge.”

It seemed prepared in advance.

The lieutenant waved his hand, and the scores of fourth-year and third-year cadets appeared on the wall.

They were displayed side by side, compared to the annual average of fourth-year cadets.

Each individual varies—but compared to the annual average of fourth-year cadets, this year’s third-year scores are not lacking. True, academic performance still presents numerous issues. Even so—

They are not inferior to fourth-years.

Jin has given his utmost, striving to slightly increase their chances of survival.

Though brief, the effort was beginning to take form.

That form has become their undoing.

Jin can only regret underestimating the current state of the convoy.

And even if he had known, he would have realized there was no alternative but to continue training.

“Our students’ results are undeniably high. But! They are still en route—still on the path! I oppose immediate deployment!”

“Calm down. Instructor Tōgō. We aren’t sending them to the front lines. Only integrating them into the patrol schedule.”

What—Jin grits his teeth.

Indeed, patrol duties alone do not require such capability.

A trainee could manage patrols alone.

"Then they would be the first to engage in combat upon contact!"

Slams hands on the desk and rises.

Attacks are occurring frequently now.

The conventional worm-type units do not target the convoy specifically.

Thus, from the enemy’s perspective, they are caught off guard.

But the humanoid units clearly target the convoy.

Each one possesses high combat capability.

Trainees would likely be annihilated before reinforcements arrived.

Their risk level is nearly equivalent to front-line deployment.

"Of course, that point is considered. The attacks do not occur daily. They are limited to nighttime, with at least one full day between each assault. Only daytime hours are needed. I simply require a brief respite—just a single unit, even for a short time."

Jin’s momentum faltered as he sank to his knees, responding to the lieutenant’s admonishing, pleading words.

The reinforcement unit he had heard about just days ago. Even with that in mind.

“Is it really… that severe?”

“Repeated assaults have worn down the regular troops. We need even a small margin in rotation.”

That was exactly what Jin had feared.

Fatigue accumulates. Movement reverts to instinct.

Unfortunately, even within the Third Fleet, there is no means to instantly erase human exhaustion.

“We’ve requested reinforcements from other fleets. The nearest, the Second Fleet, will still require two weeks for reorganization and deployment. Only for that time. Understand?”

A different lieutenant—identified by the insignia as a major—snorted in mockery of the lieutenant’s persuasive tone.

"And this is a military decision. Did you think one Instructor could refuse? Whether you're the convoy record holder or something else, aren't you mistaken?"

Jin's attempt to speak was cut short as the lieutenant interceded on behalf of the captain.

"Major. He is concerned for his students. Is not such a disposition, by any measure, worthy of respect?"

Fhnn... Regardless, this is a decision. Instructor. It would have been easier to incorporate this into the regular patrol schedule. Even just altering it to this irregular timetable, one might expect some gratitude.

Jin clenches his fist at the words spoken with contempt.

The helplessness of being unable to act—she chews on it.

Understood.

◆ ◆ ◆

According to what I heard later, Lieutenant had adjusted the deployment of the trainees quite significantly.

That was apparently the original intention — to incorporate it into the regular patrol schedule.

The likelihood of encounter had increased accordingly.

Not so. Instead, they had inserted themselves between attacks, minimizing risk as much as possible.

Unbearably grateful.

Yet if they were willing to do so much, why—

Why deny permission for his own deployment?

The next attack. The patrol mission would begin after that.

The squad leader assigned then would be an experienced veteran.

Even if only to be present, Jin regretted he could not be part of it.

He might have felt slightly less helpless if he had been doing something, even just waiting.

"...Jin. Are you listening?"

"Eh? Ah..."

It was a lie.

He had been distracted by the trainees, having not heard a word of Mio's words.

Even now, his reply was merely reflexive—hardly a sign he was attending.

Mio sensed the lack of attention, her expression souring.

"Never mind."

Mio’s gaze fell upon the penguin plush in her hand, as if it had grown stale.

Jin, realizing the absurdity of the moment, opened his mouth to apologize.

“Can’t they come faster…?”

The words held no deeper meaning for Mio.

She knew he’d been looking forward to that scene all along.

She did not know what lay beyond it.

The fault was only in the timing.

“Don’t joke!”

Mio flinched at Jin’s sudden shout.

Her eyes widened, fixed on him.

“People die every time they come! This time, I’d have to send my own student there too! And you say ‘can’t they come faster’!? You—”

Jin shouted, letting emotion take control, then snapped back to himself.

Those words were never meant for Mio.

He had only been venting his own helplessness onto her.

It was just misplaced anger.

He should apologize.

But his throat won’t move.

Mio’s face twists, shocked.

That she isn’t crying feels like a miracle.

“Jin, you idiot!”

She shouts and runs.

Destination: the bed.

She curls into a cocoon beneath the blanket.

“Mio…”

Jin hesitates, about to speak.

What could he say?

He stands frozen, staring at the trembling lump on the bed.

“Mio, I’m sorry. I… I’ve been having trouble with work… that’s…”

No reply.

Is she ignoring him? Is she asleep?

He deserves to be ignored.

“Should’ve been a better guardian…”

Jin grips the ring hanging from his chest, wondering what he would’ve done if Rei were here.

Would he have done better?

The ring answers nothing.

“Really… I’m sorry.”

At the moment he tried to speak, the alarm sounded.

"Not now!"

Cursing, Jin lifted Mio into his arms.

She appeared to be asleep, eyes closed.

At least, there was no sign of waking.

Assuming he would have to carry her to safety, Jin did not wake her and left the house.

The evacuation alert was lifted the next morning.

Still asleep, Mio was brought to Jake’s shop.

"Huh? Oh. What’s up, early?"

Jake, who had just returned from evacuation, greeted Jin with a glance.

"Sorry to bother you so early... can you watch Mio for me?"

"Sure, no problem. What’s going on?"

"...Starting today, my students are being assigned to patrol duty. I need to take care of some things first."

Jake’s eyes widened at the hushed tone.

The severity of the situation had not been disclosed to civilians.

But when trainees go into combat, even laypeople can sense something extraordinary is at play.

"Seriously... is it really that bad?"

"I’d like to think we can hold on until reinforcements from the Second Fleet arrive."

The Second Fleet’s defense forces are among the strongest in the entire fleet.

While they may not match Jin’s kill count, there are plenty of pilots with comparable skill.

Their arrival should be enough to stabilize the situation.

Yet even their deliberate pace became a source of frustration for Jin now.

"If I’m to survive an encounter with ASID, I want to do everything possible."

"Got it. Leave it to me, miss."

"Actually... this is a selfish request, I’m truly sorry... could you please take Mio somewhere to eat something good? I’ll cover the cost, of course."

It was painful to ask such a thing.

Jake understood that, with materials unavailable, even a pile of money wouldn’t help.

Still, he wanted to ease Mio’s irritation—nothing personal, not a reconciliation—but to relieve her discontent, even for a moment.

“…Can’t be done? No. Not impossible. Just a bit expensive.”

“Fine. Can I ask you?”

“Can’t refuse. I’m getting tired of cube rations anyway. That’s feed. Just feed.”

He laughed, and agreed.

Jin exhaled, relieved. He brushed a strand of hair from Mio’s forehead.

A silver shimmer trembled before his eyes.

“Then I’m off, Mio.”

He’d apologize when he returned. That was his decision.