24 Why May Fights

Standing before Jin's desk, Jin watched May assume the posture of rest. He exhaled once.

"Today isn't a lecture, so you can sit."

A distasteful habit.

Whenever May came here, it was usually a lecture.

"Yes. That's right. Today hasn't been a lecture yet, right!"

"Right. There was the matter of your tardiness this morning. We'll discuss that after the meeting."

"Oh no, I've made a mess of it!"

Jin thought of her as a noisy one.

Yet beneath that noise, she might carry the same emptiness Jin knew.

Perhaps it was none of his business.

Still, as her Instructor, Jin wanted to help. That was his thought.

"Now then, about dorm life... Any issues? Noise from the room? Poltergeist activity? Voices heard when no one's there?"

"Why would paranormal activity increase in the second half? Hah, could it be that spirits are drawn to my overflowing aura?"

"No idea. Just asking out of curiosity."

It was half-joke, but the implication was clear—something beyond simple noise or disturbance was at play.

A light jab, nothing more.

"Anything else? Anything troubling about living there?"

"Nothing particularly. If you must insist, the built-in chair and desk are a bit too high."

"That’s your height’s fault. Use a cushion and push through."

Such a minor issue wouldn’t cause tardiness. Probably.

Jin’s response was similarly careless.

"Ugh, Instructor, you’re being careless."

"Other than that, you’ll just have to stretch your spine."

Supporting trainees far outside the average would be prohibitively expensive.

May may be unpleasant, but a little effort is expected from her.

Mmm, is that truly the direct approach?

For that, maintain a regular routine and eat proper meals.

I'll handle it properly.

Jin continued the meeting, thinking that it would be troublesome if things were handled well.

It is still premature to cut through there.

"Regarding the next squad... is it performing adequately?"

Something like a parent suddenly talking to their teenage daughter, Instructor—every day, the conversations with Mio-chan grow fewer... and when you speak, her replies are curt, distant...

"Hey, stop it."

Jin feels a slight unease at the subtly sorrowful future prediction.

It’s frustrating that I almost believed it could be possible.

And skillfully diverted from the topic.

Now it's your turn to speak.

I'll be available to consult when Mio enters her rebellious phase, okay?

Now, it's your turn to speak.

Emphasize.

Continuing like this would mean being dragged along by May’s pace indefinitely.

“Don’t trouble Trainee Nastin too much. His lateness is mostly your fault.”

“No, no. Awkward, really.”

He looks embarrassed—but not truly remorseful.

Trusting Yuriya, is he?

…Or perhaps he doesn’t care at all.

Jin reprimands himself for reading too deeply.

He finds himself silently grumbling that he’d welcome a problem he could just punch and resolve.

These days, the problems pile up without end.

“Anyway, you two seem to go out together on holidays. You can’t be on bad terms.”

“That’s right. Yuriya is a close friend.”

Solemnly, the words carry truth.

But—

“You were ready to hand over that close friend, weren’t you?”

“That’s one thing. This is another.”

Jin silently raised both hands in his mind, still unable to fathom the thoughts behind this one.

"Next, Sasamori trainee... Were you acquainted before arriving at the academy?"

"Why ask such a question?"

"Your records show the same alma mater and adjacent addresses."

"Yes. Well. Just a passing acquaintance, that’s all."

Jin instinctively knew it was a lie.

Kou claimed ignorance.

May said they were merely familiar by sight.

Jin thought both were lying. Yet—

(Why lie at all?)

Whether or not they knew each other before entering the academy was irrelevant—no need to lie about it.

If this were part of some scheme, they would have coordinated their stories.

Yet they hadn’t even managed that much.

(Both are hiding something. But that doesn’t mean they’re conspiring—only that their secrets happen to align.)

Jin surmised as much. The secret remained just out of sight, as ever.

"Watching your coordination during training—there's a remarkable rhythm to it. I wondered if you'd been close for a while."

"No, no. We only started speaking properly after being assigned to the same squad at training school."

"Ah, that's right."

He hesitated, considering pressing further, but held back.

"Then, to the matter at hand… your tardiness."

"Ah, so that was the real reason. I anticipated it."

She struck a mysterious pose. He recognized it as May’s attempt to assert control over the rhythm of the conversation.

This girl. She jests—but never yields the lead in dialogue. That suggests a sharp mind.

"Why were you so late? Couldn’t wake up in the morning?"

"Yes. Well…"

"Reason?"

It would have been faster if you'd just spoken plainly here, but unfortunately, what came out was evasion.

"I don't like it, Instructor. Asking about how girls spend their nights."

"In some cases, I'll have to ask in detail."

May flinched slightly at that, then exhaled with a resigned sigh.

"It's side work."

"What?"

"I've been doing side work late every night, that's why I overslept."

"No, what kind of side work...?"

"I have a medical condition. It's for medicine."

Jin called up May's file.

"...There's no such record?"

"Yes. I didn't apply for it."

"You're lying."

"Yes, I am."

Being met with such outright deception made Jin's expression harden.

At the same time, he realized May would not speak the true reason.

"...So you can't say it, then."

"Sorry, Instructor."

"Even if you apologize... "

It was enough of a gain that she had no intention of revealing the root cause.

No—gain was not accurate. Better than hearing nothing at all, perhaps, but still no meaningful words.

"Belwahr trainee. Why did you choose to become a soldier?"

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Not sudden at all. Honestly, I don't see you suited for military life, nor do you seem particularly eager to be one."

"Ah, I suppose..."

May fell silent, as if considering.

Jin waited without pressing.

"In truth, I've already achieved my goal..."

"What?"

"That's why I just... can't find the motivation to continue. Sorry, Instructor. I'm an uncommitted trainee."

Even less clear now.

How could she have already achieved her goal, so soon after the second year began?

What other purpose could there be for entering the academy besides becoming a soldier?

I’ll do my best not to be late starting tomorrow. Is that acceptable, Instructor?

“Ah, yeah….”

He answered without thinking.

“Then the meeting is concluded. Thank you.”

He ended it on his own terms, abruptly.

Trying to avoid being drawn in, Jin had nonetheless been pulled into May’s rhythm without resistance.

“Wait. Why are you fighting? If your goal has been achieved, what reason is there to become a soldier?”

“Perhaps… I don’t want to see anyone die.”

May turned and walked away.

Jin could not follow. He sank back into his chair, thinking.

“This is deeper than I thought.”

To them, it might be serious. To adults, it might seem trivial.

Jin hoped it was trivial. But something about the conversation carried an unexpected weight.

“What to do about it…?”

Whether to press further or not.

“Can’t just leave it be, can I?”

I was the one who started this.

Once is enough to abandon something.

I’ve heard their side.

Now, Jin thinks, he’ll try following Rei’s method.

Namely:

“Without understanding the circumstances, the past—can’t offer an opinion… exactly right.”

There’s no alternative but to speak with someone who knows their past.

Fortunate, perhaps. Their family’s location is known.

A sudden home visit is required.

That’s when Jin realizes his own mistake.

“He skipped the lecture about being late this morning.”

Said he’d deal with it later.