32 What Kou Has Gained
What should I do? Kou asks himself.
The childhood friend, May, was two people.
Even in places Kou failed to notice, she had been replaced.
Especially the decisive thing seemed to be what he had forged with the May he had thoroughly denounced as a fake.
After telling her that, and apologizing, she had fled.
"Of course."
He had spoken words so cruel that even a sincere apology couldn’t make up for them.
Young as he was—no, that’s not an excuse.
He had spoken with the intent to kill, with words that were decisive.
At that moment, May had said nothing. But how many tears had she shed afterward?
In a pitch-black room with no ally.
"Damn it."
He hated his own rashness. If only he had thought more carefully then. If he had not rejected the replaced May by abandoning thought altogether.
This past decade might have been entirely different.
But time cannot be reversed.
There is only what comes next.
He can only offer his sincerest apology. He cannot think of anything else he might do.
No—there is one more thing.
He has not yet told May what comes next.
Continuing with his daily calisthenics, he thinks this.
Muscle is reliable. It never betrays, not like a person.
As he works his abdominal muscles.
Knock. Knock. The window leading to the balcony sounds.
“?”
He thinks it might be his imagination, but the knocking does not stop.
He thinks, *Stop with the ghost stories*, and quietly parts the curtain.
“Please open quickly. What would you do if I collapsed from heatstroke?”
May stands there, face grim.
“How did you even get here? This is the third floor.”
“I climbed up from that tree over there.”
Indeed, a tree stands beside the building.
He is impressed, despite himself, at her resolve.
“Excuse me. I didn’t expect your room to be so tidy.”
“Of course you don’t. You just barge into someone’s room and then say that?”
I came to continue our earlier conversation.
No preamble. May spoke directly.
Kou closed his eyes for a moment upon hearing it.
Then opened them and said:
"Let's change the location."
After struggling to escape the boys' dormitory, they arrived at— the training academy's simulator.
No one used it at this hour, but it could be activated with proper authorization.
"Let's simulate a battle."
"What? What are you talking about? Did you even listen to me?"
"I did. I want to continue our conversation."
"Then—"
"I still want you to fight. There's something I need to convey to you."
May lowered her gaze, yielding to Kou's earnest request.
"This is beyond unreasonable. I came here to talk."
"I honestly don't think I can express it properly with words."
May sighed as Kou stepped into the simulator without delay.
"Such a selfish attitude."
"Both of you are using the simulator without permission, you know."
From behind May, Jin spoke.
"Instructor! What's with the sudden ghost-like appearance!"
"...Well, I did set Sasamori off, so I came to check on things. What are you actually doing?"
Having put Mio to bed early for two days straight, Jin had come here again to meet Kou.
"I was just— practicing in the simulation."
"...I don't understand, but you want to use the simulator?"
"Yes. Well, yes."
"Then I'll just approve your request."
"Really? You're okay with that?"
"I won't interfere with a diligent student."
Without further delay, he quickly granted approval.
"Then I'm leaving."
"What exactly brought you here?"
"I told you—I just came to check on things."
Do it like this. That's how it's done.
Perhaps it's experience.
Jin could see a few options available to him.
Jin thinks that showing it this way would be wrong.
He wants to point out what has been overlooked, not provide an answer.
Perhaps a conversation, even a fight, until both parties are satisfied—this would be better.
He believes this.
If the outcome is strained relations, then he will step in as Instructor to mediate anew.
That is all Jin can do.
"Then do your best."
Saying this, Jin departs.
"She really is coming back..."
May climbs into the simulator, a faint sigh of disbelief escaping her.
Thinking back.
She and Kou have done simulations like this before.
As children—she used to avoid conflict, more so than engage.
How she has changed.
The reason for this shift is something May can guess, and it brings her sorrow.
Because surely it has nothing to do with the fact that the real May no longer exists.
An unremarkable stretch of space.
Tactically impossible—a one-on-one scenario.
Their units were identical Leopards.
Same position—forward line.
Thus, their engagement became a brutal exchange of blows.
Relative velocity at the moment of confrontation: 12 km/s.
Distance reduced to zero in an instant.
Ether daggers, mirrored in motion, crossed in perfect alignment.
One clash, two clashes.
Blades locked—May could no longer deny her disadvantage.
Combat skill was inherently superior in Kou.
A standstill melee offered no chance of victory.
Then, as always, May chose her usual path.
Acceleration. Rotation.
May’s actions were limited to these two.
She wielded them without restriction.
Interweaving them into intricate, unpredictable patterns.
This was May’s weapon.
Even Instructor Jin was forced to acknowledge the high-speed maneuvering.
This one thing, at least, she would never lose to Kou.
While tracing that complex trajectory, she repeated her single-strike evasion again and again.
Kou cannot keep up with the maneuvering.
With Yuriya, the distance would never close—she would simply engage with long-range fire.
No matter how complex the evasion, the机体 itself cannot move faster than a bullet.
Incidentally, against Yuriya, Kou would force a close-quarters engagement by deflecting the long-range shots.
He cannot execute the technique with the same elegance as Jin’s, but he is learning it.
In fact, among these three, a one-on-one confrontation becomes a three-way stalemate.
Thus, Kou cannot defeat May.
May’s shooting ability is not high—so her tactic is to strike and disengage immediately.
That is enough.
From an opponent’s blind spot, even Kou cannot counter.
With repeated charges, Kou’s Leopard sustains damage rapidly.
What did Kou want to do?
May wonders.
There was something Kou wished to convey in this battle.
But—this is the end.
May's heart received nothing.
May thinks it’s fine.
There’s no need to discuss it now— we can talk again once this is over.
Let us end it quickly.
About to deliver the final blow—
"Was reading it. Even if limbs are severed, it won't count as a critical hit. To finish it, aim for the torso."
"Na—"
A calculated thrust from behind.
A single blow piercing the Ether Reactor—sufficient to classify it as catastrophically damaged.
If it hits.
Kou's leopard is in an unnatural posture.
A pose resembling hands pressed together at the back.
The tip of May's ether dagger rests in the palm of the hand.
A blade strike that utterly disregards human anatomy.
The ether coating, concentrated in the palm, wraps around the blade and halts it.
That.
Aware of the body’s movements, are we? Exactly right, Instructor!
Jin could integrate it into the flow of combat.
Kou cannot do that yet.
Read the opponent’s movements. It only works when timed to fit within their rhythm.
Even so, this is a technique Kou stole from Jin.
It stopped the finishing blow.
But that does not mean May has lost.
This time, avoid being read. Add more variation in pace and angle.
"Come on!"
A psychological gap.
Kou twists himself into it.
Right foot. The ether dagger swings from the toe.
At this distance. At this position.
It cannot land.
It’s impossible to swing properly.
Yet Kou still moves the机体.
A motion that ignores the human body.
The jointed leg mechanism moves like a whip.
The blade reaches May’s unit before it disengages.
Ah.
By the time that thought forms, the simulator has ended.
It took several seconds to comprehend that she had been declared defeated.
She had lost.
One-on-one, not in play, not in wager.
This was the first time May had lost to Kou.
Stunned, May remained motionless within the simulator for a long while.
Eventually, the simulator unlocked from the outside.
"Looks like I won."