11 Reclaimed Routine

"Listen up, you lot! Time is a rigid construct. Especially in the military… Do you understand the reason?"

"Yes, sir! If we're late, the operation schedule becomes disrupted, and that directly impacts the final success rate!"

Yuria, her golden hair braided into three strands, answers with a voice trembling slightly, barely holding back tears.

Jin nods firmly at her response, then turns to the next student.

"Exactly! Trainee Nastin! Now, Trainee Bellwair! What do you make of your current situation?"

"Yes! I enter the classroom precisely on time. I must say, an impeccable schedule, if I do say so myself!"

"Wrong answer, Bellwair! You should already be seated when the bell rings—idiot!"

Jin feels genuine pain in his head as he delivers this rebuke to the insolent troublemaker.

May, barely taller than a child, her age off by perhaps five years.

She’s late once or twice a week—headaches never cease.

It’s been a month since Jin began instructing them, and this is already the sixth time.

Yuria, dragged into it and late alongside them, begins to seem pitiable.

Honestly, Mio listens more readily.

“Bellwair and Nastin—cleaning duty for one week!”

To be honest, Jin found it tedious to devise punishments each time.

He’s already assigned them six weeks’ worth of cleaning duty arbitrarily.

—though at this rate, it may end up being daily cleaning until their official appointment.

……perhaps skipping meals would be more effective?

Building the body is vital work for trainees.

Eating is not a right—it is an obligation.

Thus, depriving them of food is not a commendable punishment.

But Yuria, at least, is fundamentally serious.

May’s response was negligible even at the level of cleaning duties.

If the goal is not to impose punishment, then they must desire to avoid it themselves—

She trembled visibly, her face pale as chalk.

“P-Please, Instructor! I’ll reflect! I’ll reflect, I swear! Just… please, spare me the meal deprivation…!”

Indeed. This seems to be the most effective.

“Your future conduct will determine that.”

“Anything! Anything at all! If it means avoiding this, I’ll let you do whatever you want with Yuri’s—useless, overdeveloped body!”

“Wait—?!”

“Don’t say such things!”

Yuria shouted, casually sacrificed by her friend as a scapegoat.

Jin as well.

The rumor of an Instructor touching a trainee would be catastrophic.

Kou’s incredulous glance was unbearable.

“For heaven’s sake, just let me skip meals…!”

Understood! Understood—stop clinging! Get back to your seat quickly!

Most effective punishment, yet the desperation it breeds makes it worse...

"Then let's begin today's lecture!"

Jin regains composure and starts the lesson.

Already five minutes wasted on this trivial exchange.

"Today continues yesterday's topic—the history of the convoy. Primarily the events following departure from the homeworld."

One hundred fifty years ago.

The humans who once thrived on a single planet reached the end of their civilization.

A drastically altered environment. New life forms adapted to it.

Facing these, the path to survival was cut off.

Yet they refused to surrender. They sought an alternative in the sea of stars—our ancestors.

Since then, the human species has become nomads, wandering through space.

"We still travel as an immigrant convoy, searching for habitable worlds. What obstructs us are they."

It is of the same kind as the monster that once dominated the homeworld.

The human species’ archenemy.

"ASID. No need to explain it again, correct?"

Yuria nods in affirmation.

Kou merely raises his expression as if it were expected.

May also nods.

But that is—

"Belval! You're awfully relaxed, aren’t you...!"

Asleep.

This one—late again after oversleeping, now napping here too—Jin shudders at the sheer audacity.

Perhaps he’s someone important.

"Huh! I’m not sleeping, I’m not sleeping, Instructor!"

"Not sleeping? Then tell me—what were we discussing just now?"

"On food plant self-sufficiency rates!"

"That was last week’s lecture! I’m serious—no meals for you!"

Leave May’s pale face for now.

Staying on her schedule won’t advance the lesson.

One month.

One month—yet in that time, the fleet’s situation had changed drastically.

Assaults from humanoid ASIDs had ceased entirely. With no signs of them in the surrounding sectors, the urban government declared the crisis contained.

Of course, the swarms of humanoids had simply appeared without warning, emerging directly from Overlight. Their absence in the vicinity offered no guarantee of safety.

As if the prior attacks had already been paid in full, the ASID assaults stopped abruptly.

As a result, the support units from the Second Fleet seemed to have nothing to do.

The Third Fleet appeared to be preparing to replenish its combat strength while the opportunity remained.

The sergeant seemed occupied lately, sparring with newly delivered units.

What had the humanoid attacks been, in truth?

Their intent remained unknown.

Regardless, Jin had no complaints. Peace had been restored.

No need to send students to the battlefield with frustration—this is truly fortunate.

After finishing the lecture that day and returning home.

Talking with Mio about today’s events.

Mio’s daily life sounded pleasant. Jin felt joy alongside her.

“Haven’t seen any Pika-Pika lately.”

“Yeah. Do you think they’ll come?”

“Hmm… probably not.”

Since the last major assault, Mio had been clearly informed of what Pika-Pika meant.

She still didn’t fully grasp the concept of death, but she understood it was something undesirable.

Since that day, she no longer spoke of eagerly awaiting them.

“Seemed to come often before. Strange.”

“Yeah. Really… strange.”

Thinking back.

The assault had been constant since Jin met Mio.

To Mio, it meant she had been under attack for her entire memory.

So if it suddenly stopped, finding it strange is not unreasonable.

In a way, it had become part of daily life. Its disappearance evoked no sense of loss, yet her nights remain shallow.

Mio sleeps deeply, utterly accustomed. Jin finds that enviable.

"Otō-san, Otō-san. You know, about our next break..."

"Yeah, right. Where should we go this time?"

Jin visualizes the fleet's revival plan in his mind.

An expeditionary unit was scheduled to depart soon, conducting surveys of nearby planets.

Once that concluded, resource collection would follow. The fleet's damage would then be repaired.

By that calculation, the fleet should regain most of its function within three months.

Recreational facilities, long closed, were expected to reopen gradually.

The aquarium might still be difficult, but touring the ship housing the aquaculture plant could still be enjoyable.

Jin was thinking such thoughts.

"Haraguchi-chan invited me to come over to her house."

"Oh."

His child had been invited to a friend's home.

Jin felt reassured—she was building proper human connections.

He had heard about it before, but words like "underling" or "unstable" had caused unease.

"Can I go?"

"Of course."

Jin smiled, ruffling Mio's hair, slightly messy from the gesture.

Mio pouted, displeased by the disarray.

"Why are you laughing? Hmph."

It was inevitable that he would laugh.

She was still expressionless, but her emotional expressions were growing more natural.

He could not help but be pleased.

"Have fun."

"Uh-huh."

Then, a thought occurred to Jin.

"About that... the 'underling' girl. Will she be coming too?"

"No. It's just girls, so she won't come."

Nodding, Jin says, “I see.”

All her subordinates are male…? He thinks.

The issue had reached the point where he could no longer ignore it.

Jin hesitates, caught between unease and curiosity, about to ask—

but swallows the words as Mio lets out a tiny yawn.

He hadn’t noticed earlier, absorbed in conversation. Now he sees it’s past nine.

Typically, Mio would already be asleep by now.

“Staying up late… We should sleep soon.”

“Uh-huh…”

Mio stumbles slightly as she moves toward the bed.

She curls under the blanket, hugging her penguin companion.

She closes her eyes, cradling Raven—the plush guardian doll—positioned in the center of the bed like a sentinel.

“Good night…”

“Good night, Mio.”

Jin returns to the living room after tucking Mio in.

The room feels cold and empty now that Mio is gone.

Check the calendar.

It’s almost May.

Mio and I met in mid-January, so it’s been about three months now.

That is, three months since I returned home.

In that time, much has changed.

Mio’s dishes have multiplied.

Mio’s clothes have multiplied.

On the living room table, an electronic paper with Mio’s homework is spread open.

To keep from forgetting, Jin places it inside Mio’s bag.

Memories of Rei are being overwritten.

He no longer feels urgency about that.

He believes this is right, now.

Still—just a little lonely.

He finds this life enjoyable.

The hand he holds with his left. The peace he feels from it.

That is undeniable.

But—

“My right hand… is lonely.”

The thing I held with it two years ago is gone.

That is all that is missing.