05 Old Story

"No... that's definitely... unprecedented..."

ASID is saving a person.

It overturns the entire value system cultivated throughout the history of space colonization.

"Just to confirm— that humanoid, it wasn't actually carrying a person inside... was it?"

"Yes. That's certain. There's no space large enough for a human to enter, and ASID's core— processor— was only slightly more complex, still within the same trajectory. That was a perfectly authentic ASID."

The level of intelligence.

Even at worst-case scenarios, the possibility of a fleet having disguised a unit as ASID had been considered.

But that is clearly ruled out.

"Remote operation, perhaps?"

"No. Ether communication would have nearly zero latency, theoretically possible—but no such mechanism was detected."

Then it must have been a genuine, unaltered ASID.

"That kind of thing's already been reported upward, right?"

"Of course. The jurisdiction shifted about two weeks ago, so I don't know any further details."

Lying on the bed, Jin looked up at the ceiling.

"Still, it's ultimately an ASID, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"...Can't make sense of it."

Not the Second Fleet's intentions.

Nor the purpose of the humanoid ASID.

There's too little material to infer either.

Whatever we say now is just speculation layered upon speculation... equivalent to delusion.

"I'm not a detective, you know..."

"Pfft... Not bad. Ace detective."

"You just snorted, didn't you?"

"No, no. Impossible. I'd never laugh at the words of the ace, the sole survivor of the entire migrant fleet... heh."

Jin tilted his lips slightly, watching the sergeant laugh with genuine amusement.

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, the sergeant lowers his voice slightly.

"Mio, you know."

"Uh?"

"Yesterday you said you weren't sentimental, but it turns out you've been praying for something all along. Begging for your father’s safety."

The sergeant smiles, soft and fond.

Jin looks away, startled by that rare expression.

Looking away, he shifts focus instead.

"Come to think of it, you’ve always had a soft spot for Mio, haven’t you?"

"Isn’t she just adorable?"

"I won’t deny that."

The sergeant chuckles, a laugh that isn’t quite like his usual teasing tone. Jin feels his composure slip.

"Really, from the very beginning—you’ve always been fussing over her. I wonder why."

"Hmm, why indeed. Come to think of it... instinct?"

The sergeant says this with an unexpectedly serious expression.

Having said it, he waits for a reply.

Jin gives one.

"Your clan's instinct is drawn to machines, isn't it?"

"No, no... I won't deny it, but that alone would be the end of the line in no time."

The sergeant tilts his head, his expression one of half-conviction, half-doubt.

"Maternal instinct?"

"Far from it."

"Sorry. I know I'm saying it myself."

A laugh, slightly forced.

The rhythm is off.

The distance is best when the absurdity is just right.

They should have agreed on that.

But Mio has entered the space between them.

"I'm sorry, but could I ask you to keep an eye on Mio a little longer? Ah—no, only if it's convenient for you."

The sergeant has his own life.

Even just two weeks of care, including the drift, is more than enough to be grateful for.

If it's too much, then a babysitter must be hired without delay.

I'm fine. I don't have anything urgent to do on a day off. More importantly, Lieutenant, get well soon and leave the hospital.

He raises one finger.

"I specialize in fixing machines, not people. Please hurry and show Mio-chan your healthy self so she can rest easy."

"...Yeah, I know."

Jin nods at the sergeant's words.

There are countless promises he made to Mio.

There are countless things he wants to do for her.

To fulfill them all, he must push through rehabilitation.

◆ ◆ ◆

Not that the sergeant's words pushed him.

Jin pushed through rehabilitation anyway.

With the Third Fleet's medical technology, atrophied muscles begin to take shape within two days.

He pleads with the doctors until they grant temporary leave, then returns to his home after a long absence.

Two weeks, they said. Yet the feeling of familiarity returns immediately.

The place begins to feel like home—like the home of Jin and Mio.

It carries both joy and sorrow at once.

He would have liked to add command to it.

Indulging in a brief melancholy, he changed into his suit.

Then headed toward Mio’s school...

"Why are you two here?"

"Ah, well, we thought it’d be too sad if no one came to see Mio-chan..."

"We didn’t expect the Lieutenant to be discharged in just two days. So, reluctantly, we’ve come to take Jake’s place."

Ah.

Jin waved his hand dismissively, muttering inwardly how much they clearly adored Mio.

"Right. Thanks. You’ve done well. You can go now."

"Hey now! That’s not how it works!"

"That’s true! We’ve come all this way—let us see Mio-chan’s class!"

"Well, you see..."

Even among the diverse family structures of the immigrant fleet, three together was an uncommon configuration.

At the very least, reduce it to two.

"Then you two play rock-paper-scissors. Winner comes with me."

"Why do you get a guaranteed spot, Lieutenant?"

"Who do you think you are?"

"I'm Mio's father. Yes, three, two, one. First, rock."

The conversation stalls. Force it forward.

"Rock-paper-scissors, pon—Sergeant wins."

"Nuuaaaah, I lost!"

"Uppupp, well done, Jake."

Victor and loser.

Fate clearly divided.

"Come on, loser, go home quickly. Shall I call the security officer?"

"You're a monster."

Even though they'd just been preparing to enter together, Jin thinks the Sergeant is merciless.

Chuckling, the Sergeant turns back to Jin.

"Then, let's go, Lieutenant."

"That’s the gist of it. Sorry, Jake. You came all this way for nothing."

He raises his palm in front of his face, offering a contrite apology—genuine enough to feel almost painful.

Jake grins, a sharp curve of teeth.

A bad feeling settles in Jin’s chest.

"Hey, don’t worry about it, Jin… Anyway. You’re here, officially, as a guardian of Mio’s ward, so you’re allowed to observe."

Jin understands what he’s getting at and reaches to clamp his hand over Jake’s mouth.

But Jake speaks first.

"Then calling you Lieutenant or Sergeant… doesn’t really fit, does it? Partners don’t usually call each other that, right?"

"Jake, you—"

Still, it’s unnatural. They’re in civilian clothes, yet everyone knows they’re military.

It’s not a problem if they’re discovered. But the presence still causes hesitation in others.

Jake’s attempt at evasion holds a certain logic.

"Indeed, you're right. Let's go, Higashi."

"Hn, that's true. Sharon."

They casually reverted to their old training academy nicknames, intending to tease Jake—just as he had planned.

"Partner calling by last name... odd."

Pretending to ponder, Jake rested a hand on his chin, mimicking a detective from a fiction novel.

For a moment, Jin felt a flicker of jealousy—was this guy planning to run a café and solve cases too?

It was, objectively, quite impressive.

Regardless of Jin's personal judgment, Jake was clearly enjoying himself.

He pressed the advantage with deliberate flair.

And indeed, Jake's absurd claim held a certain logic.

In the Third Fleet, it was common practice to adopt the same surname upon marriage.

Still, it wasn't mandatory—minority practices existed.

Yet, reacting with irritation now would only please Jake, and that was precisely what annoyed Jin.

"Aa. Let's go, Shirley."

"Aa. Yes... Jin."

Don't blush, Jin mutters, irritated.

It's starting to make him feel awkward too.

"Hey, passable, right? Call each other properly, even in the middle of it?"

Saying that, Jake walks off with the air of someone who's just finished a task.

Jin vows silently to get back at him at the barbecue scheduled for next time.

"Let's finish the check-in first."

"Y-yes, that's right."

They both avoid eye contact, slightly uneasy.

At the school entrance, they register their IDs for the classroom observation.

"Feels nostalgic, elementary school, doesn't it?"

"Yeah... mine was a bit dirtier building, I think."

"This one's pretty clean."

Speaking softly, Jin and Shirley walk down the corridor.

They're en route to the classroom that will serve as a waiting area until the observation begins.

As they walk, Shirley lets out a quiet, amused laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"No. Just recalling training academy days. We used to walk like this when given lectures in separate rooms."

"Yeah. That's right."

Walking was a mild way of putting it.

Mostly we sprinted in at the last moment.

Ah, but.

No real dissatisfaction with the present life.

Back then, there were plenty of worries.

But.

If asked to name the brightest period of my life.

The happiest time was being with Rei—but the most vivid memories were—

those hectic, chaotic days spent at the training academy.

"Didn’t think I’d become someone who reminisces so easily."

Sharon smiled faintly, a quiet trace of loneliness in the expression.