28 Sasamori Kou

"Love is a necessity for living! It gives life its spark! The world lights up from that day forward!"

"Is that so?"

"It's like nutrition for life. With a wonderful partner, life becomes enjoyable all on its own!"

"Is that so?"

"Love saves the world. It saves the universe!"

"By the way, do you have any romantic experience?"

"Zero, but is that a problem?"

Jin thinks it's remarkable that someone can be elevated to such heights based solely on hearsay.

But then he considers.

From past cases—essentially Jin's own experiences—it's not merely close to the mark... no, it's a perfect match.

At least twice before, Jin had been lifted up by his then-partners.

Which means, as Yuriya said.

"What's wrong, Instructor? You suddenly clutch your head."

"Stop pretending it's nothing."

The thought of having followed Yuriya’s romantic theories brought nothing but embarrassment.

“Not that I’m grateful or anything. Nastin trainee. That was useful.”

“Useful… w-who are you seeing?! Please, just tell me the first letter! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“Calm down. And stop speaking like that.”

First letter—would that even suffice?

“It’s not my story.”

“If it’s not yours… then—oh! Is it the Instructor’s Instructor?!”

“Don’t bring up that person. It’s a rather delicate subject.”

Better not to speak ill of one’s mentor. Timing matters.

“So… Mio? That’s a bit early, isn’t it? Or perhaps—no way—did your parents arrange a fiancé?”

If I’m entrusting Mio to someone, they’d have to be stronger than me—otherwise, I’d never allow it. Besides, if it were that person, she’d be happy every single day without even needing to fall in love.

“Your eyes are seriously scary, Instructor. Are you saying Mio-chan will stay single forever?”

As for Yuriya’s remark, leave it aside.

“Who is it? Please tell me.”

“Stay away from romance. That wasn’t the original plan, was it?”

He wants to make life enjoyable.

It doesn’t have to be love.

Jin struggles to detach Yuriya, who clings to him. Surprisingly strong. The training had taken effect.

Supposing—just supposing—he adopted this Yuriya plan.

Who should the other party be?

He observes Yuriya’s persistence.

May’s close friend. But nothing beyond friendship is evident.

She seems willing to die for the person. Yet, he cannot imagine that leading to love.

Yet Jin’s prediction is unlikely to hold. After all, he hadn’t been able to foresee even his own actions in the past.

Still, considering him as a candidate.

“Something, Instructor. Did you place me in a convenient position just now?”

“You really are sharp.”

Sharpness like this feels like being read through. Probably makes me less attractive in return.

“Did you just think something rude?”

“Imagination.”

Thinking about the main target.

Sasamori Kou.

There’s no doubt May is aware of him. She has even listed meeting him again as a life goal.

The reason she doesn’t desire more.

Jin can speculate after hearing the details.

Thus, whatever Jin is doing is certainly nothing but unnecessary interference to May.

Interfering in another’s life is not the Instructor’s role.

He knows this.

Still, he cannot let it go.

He wishes for the two who resemble himself to be happy.

Perhaps this is a form of atonement. He felt it when he took Mio in.

He can no longer go back.

But those two still have each other.

One who once stood between them is gone. Yet there remains someone to mourn the absence together.

Even if indirect, a connection existed. To sever it entirely—this would surely be misery for both.

Jin believes this.

Because he believes, he acts.

" Instructor? Thinking about something complicated?"

"Not really. Something fairly simple."

What is essential to improving the relationship between those two.

It is.

"Ah, so it's Sasamori trainee after all..."

"What? So it's a man and a man. A bond hotter than friendship..."

"Enough. Step away from that line of thought."

He wrenches it away—like a rotten fruit, it tumbles onto the floor.

"Harsh, Instructor. Treating me so roughly like this."

"You're the one who came."

"Just said the tip, though..."

"No one acknowledged that."

Stepping out of the instructor's office.

"May-nee-chan. Can't hear anything. What game is this?"

"I've blocked my ears because I overheard an educationally inappropriate conversation. You can't hear it, right?"

May and Mio, inexplicably with hands over her ears.

"Really. Shower, then straight to the instructor's office... You're quite the dedicated one, Yuriya."

"Huh?"

"So you sweat again, you take another shower?"

"...?"

Yuriya stares, confused. May is the one surprised by the reaction.

"Wait. Why are you reacting like that?"

"I don't get what you're saying... The instructor's office has AC. It's cool in there."

"No way. Innocent... I didn't know you were this pure. You usually say some pretty rough things."

"Don't forget the line where you're the one who's dirty."

Whether rotten or pure—Jin thinks such a person is hard to tell. Perhaps it's simply that they don't connect it to themselves.

"Meaning one can be dyed in their own color, like footprints on fresh snow. That’s intriguing. How about it, Instructor? A bargain, really."

"Are you really friends, though?"

He doesn’t understand what’s a bargain, but May selling her friend. That’s twice now he can’t help but comment.

"Of course. Yuriya is my important friend."

"If she’s important, treat her as such."

As usual.

From May’s perspective, the matter just mentioned was something she’d carried for a long time.

Nothing to change, then.

"Otou-san, work over?"

"Yeah. Sorry, sorry. Kept you waiting."

"No. May-neechan played with me."

As usual.

That was precisely why Jin wanted to break his usual routine.

◆ ◆ ◆

"Hey, Trainee Sasamori."

"Commander Higashi...? Why are you here at this hour?"

Kou, dressed in training gear, appeared to have been in the middle of a workout.

He was sweating so heavily it looked as though steam rose from his body in the cold season.

The current time was 21:00. It should have been the time he normally returned home and put Mio to bed.

"I have something to attend to. I managed to get Mio to sleep early."

Good children go to bed at eight, and warm cocoa helps make them drowsy. It had worked—she had gone to sleep earlier than usual today.

"Huh. I see."

He understood there was something to attend to, but his expression questioned why here.

"I heard you train here every night."

"Yes. You mentioned earlier, Instructor, about building the body. I’m training to endure high G forces."

Jin thinks, truly disciplined.

A high purpose. Weakness is unacceptable. Strength is mandatory. That compulsion—almost obsessive—drives Kou.

"Is it because of the Ship 11 incident ten years ago?"

"...Yes. Well. That's right."

A hesitant reply.

One. Jin reveals the card in his hand. This is the first and final ace.

"Is it because of May Bellwair?"

"That little one has nothing to do with it—"

"Not the one currently at the training academy. The girl who died ten years ago, unknown to anyone."

The effect of that ace was immediate.

A crushing gaze fixed on Jin.

"Where did you—"

"I heard it from a Bellwair trainee."

Upon saying this, Kou relaxes, his body slackening slightly.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he offers a self-deprecating smile. Jin thinks it doesn’t suit him.

"Then you knew, Instructor. That one. May hasn’t been noticed dead by anyone. Not even in the city’s official records. Her death isn’t recorded."

"So you built a tombstone yourself."

"You know even that?"

"Actually, the order’s reversed. I found the tombstone first, and that led me here. You were at Memorial Park last weekend, weren’t you?"

"Yeah. So that’s what you meant. Bad taste."

"Coincidence, though."

Yes. Coincidence.

It was only chance that the original May’s birthday and Rei’s birthday coincided.

The odds were about one in thirty.

Had it not been for that, Jin never would have reached the truth.

But he did reach it.

There’s no physical evidence that May ever existed. Not even those fathers bothered to mourn their daughter—out of self-preservation. That’s hardly fair.

He had loved her. Had tried to help, even if it meant breaking the law. And yet abandoned her.

Kou spits the words.

“I’m the only one who remembers she existed. So I’m the only one who can mourn her.”

“She was made last year,” he says.

“Used the training school’s salary and savings—finally managed it.”

Jin thinks he’s incredibly stoic.

While others spent money on pleasure, on themselves, he’d endured years of restraint—just for his dead childhood friend.

To him, it wasn’t restraint. Not suffering.

Just constant remembrance of one person.

A goal no one else could understand. One no one else would ever hear about.

“Amazing,”

Jin wanted to praise and acclaim that great achievement—just for himself. That was his thought.