03 Trainees

Jin had been concerned about whether Mio would manage properly at school, but he was not entirely exempt from the same concerns.

After approximately one month as a combat instructor, it became clear that Jin posed no significant issues, and thus he was assigned to oversee trainees this term.

In simple terms, he became a mentor.

“Still, you agreed so easily.”

His instructor remarked, slightly surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought you’d be insisting on being reassigned to the front lines.”

“Ah. That matter, yes…”

The desire to return to the front lines still remained.

But—

“Upon thinking clearly, I realized that duties such as patrol missions or expeditionary assignments would require me to be away from home.”

These were, of course, standard responsibilities.

The former lasted half a day. The latter spanned several days to several weeks.

“Truly, leaving Mio alone for that duration worried me.”

Relying on Jake that often would also be difficult to justify.

In that sense, the current instructor position isn't unfavorable.

With a few exceptions, he can return home by evening.

"True enough."

"I'll consider it once Mio grows a bit older... though by then my physical condition will likely have declined."

He won't be able to pilot with the same reflexes as now.

Essentially, his career as a pilot is closed.

He had no particular objection to that.

If there was anything left unfulfilled,

— it was only that one obsession with the super-large class.

Shaking off the delusion, Jin allowed a faint smile to form at his lips.

"My current goal is to train pilots who surpass my own kill count."

"Haha. That's excellent! Aces raising aces, I suppose."

Recalling the nostalgia of his active years, Jin asked the question that had been on his mind, as the instructor laughed heartily.

"So, how exactly will I instruct the trainees?"

I want you to instruct three individuals I’ve personally selected. You’re a second-year, so approximately three years remain.

Three, you say?

Yes. That’s correct.

At the training academy, students are grouped not by class but by squad.

That was why Jin had questioned it.

Typically, a training squad consists of twelve members.

Three such squads make up a training platoon.

Perhaps the surplus of trainees explains it. He tilted his head slightly.

These are the rookies’ records. Review them. You’ll meet them tomorrow.

Today was the first face-to-face with the academy staff, including the instructor.

Jin, an exceptional transfer, was meeting the entire cadre for the first time.

Some were familiar—people he’d encountered during his own time at the academy, each time prompting surprise.

Others were complete strangers. In fact, it was easier to speak with them—less likely to know anything about his past at the academy.

Now… my students, then.

Jin uploads the data onto his terminal using a new desk.

Three.

"Sasamori Kou... the only male in this unit."

At the time of exodus from the homeworld, the number of human males had been in single digits.

No detailed records remain, but they were on the brink of extinction.

Records indicate they had barely sustained a form of parthenogenetic reproduction through artificial sperm synthesis.

One hundred and fifty years later. Through advanced technology, they had managed to recover to about thirty percent of their original population.

Even so, the Third Fleet maintained a higher ratio. A 4:6 balance was still sustained.

Considering that, this unit was slightly skewed in its gender distribution.

"Exceptional in close-combat scores—both in body and machine."

Remarkable. He had reportedly defeated instructors in sparring matches.

Honestly, Jin felt he might lose to him in hand-to-hand combat.

"May Bellwar, Yuriya Nastin. Each excels in their own specialty... hm."

It almost seemed possible that the ace could be cultivating another ace—just as he had joked earlier.

Perhaps this was the squad selected for that purpose, Jin thought.

The current personnel assignments made it clear that such an expectation was being placed upon them.

Indeed, the reason for the small number might be the expectation of intensive training.

"Indeed... a challenge worth pursuing."

The pleasure of nurturing others.

Jin had become increasingly receptive to the role of Instructor since watching Mio—now awakened to it.

How much skill could one forge in three years?

He began formulating the curriculum immediately.

It felt like an interesting task for the first time in a long while.

Thus, he failed to notice. The data handed to him contained only scores.

There was not a single score listed where there should have been one.

In conclusion.

Jin’s assumption had been incorrect.

◆ ◆ ◆

Listening to Mio’s cheerful report about school, he felt a flicker of joy before drifting off to sleep—

The next morning arrived.

The training school’s pre-bell rang.

Along the hallway, which had grown hectic, Jin walked slowly.

Some trainees, unfamiliar with Jin’s face despite being second-years, regarded him with mild suspicion.

They said nothing—perhaps because he carried himself too confidently.

The classroom where the trainees he would now instruct awaited was at the very back.

A faint tension.

Though the recruits were green, he was no more than a rookie instructor himself.

Anxiety lingered: would he be able to teach them properly?

“Good morning.”

He passed through the door, greeting them—

By then, no trace of worry remained on his face.

The problem lay elsewhere.

No one is here.

Only three sets of table and chairs are arranged.

Jin projects the room assignment onto the back of his left hand, wondering if he made a mistake.

It is correct.

If so, then what does this empty classroom signify? Jin thinks—recalling his own student days.

A brief glance upward at the clock.

One minute until class begins.

Apparently, the three students he is responsible for like to push the limits of punctuality.

The bell begins to ring.

Jin exhales, surprised that he is being late on his first day.

Mixed with the exhale, a scream-like voice reaches his ears.

"Run properly, May!"

"Mmm, mmm mmm mmm!"

"What are you even saying? And how long are you going to keep eating?"

"Hey, let's just carry her. We can manage with two."

A clamor of voices approaches.

The urge to peek out from the doorway and see the expressions on their faces as they spoke was strong, but he restrained himself and waited at the front of the lectern.

The sound of frantic footfalls. Three sets.

Only members of this training squad would be sprinting all the way to the farthest classroom.

"Being late on the first day of a new Instructor... how unprofessional..."

"Gulp. What are you doing, Yuriya? Hurry up and get to class. Honestly, it's your excess chest fat slowing you down. Later, Kou, I'm reporting you for harassment."

"You're the one who used up my energy to wake you up...!"

"Shut up. Don't think you can go ahead alone."

At the very instant the bell stopped ringing.

"Marginally safe. As expected of me."

"I was the one who worked hard to wake you up...!"

"Who do you think secured your breakfast while you were eating...?"

"Regrettably, all three of you are out."

Jin feels a headache forming as the three engage in banter with comedic flair.

"May Bellwair, Yuri Nastin, and Sasamori Kou, correct? There will be words later. All of you—report to the Instructor’s office after today’s lecture."

"Ah, targeting me? Quite the ambition. You have good eyes."

"You misunderstand the meaning of 'targeting'—"

"Ahh, too much, too much."

The girl with reddish-black hair tied in a side ponytail, resembling May Bellwair, strikes an odd pose.

Honestly, one might suspect she’s faking her age by four or five years.

Among the three present, she is by far the shortest and slenderest.

It’s remarkable she endured the training academy for a full year.

In contrast, the blonde girl slumps with shoulders drooped and head lowered.

The three-strand braid hanging down her back sways listlessly in front of her face.

Yuria Nastin.

Her height difference from May was striking—almost like that of parent and child.

Jin thought, if their heights were averaged, it would be just right.

The only boy—probably Kou Sasamori.

Silver hair cropped short.

Sharp eyes assess Jin like a merchant weighing goods.

His speech is rough, indifferent.

Yet beneath the crudeness lies intelligence—like a predator targeting prey.

"Then, for the next three years, I am Lieutenant Higashi Jin. I’ll be training you. Let’s get along."

He announces his name from the lectern.

At that moment, a sharp smile appears at Kou’s lips.

Not friendly.

On the contrary.

Hostility. Challenge.

A smile that contains such vectors of emotion.

The anticipation was palpable—almost audible in the silence.

“Now then, introductions—unnecessary. Let us proceed directly to the first lesson.”

He begins the lecture, displaying text on the terminal at his hand.

Jin watches the three of them, each adopting a different posture. A certainty settles in him.

This is a unit of troublemakers.