17 Mio's school life

"Emissa. Let's eat lunch."

Lunchtime at school.

Mio had initially disliked the time spent eating the unappetizing school meals.

But now, that is no longer the case.

Even unappetizing rice tastes slightly better when shared with a friend.

"Hmph. I don't care either way. If you insist so much, I suppose I could join you."

Emissa Carmain.

Supposedly, the daughter of one of the migrant fleet's administrative council members.

Vivid red hair. An air of superiority.

Not particularly skilled in social interaction.

She had once been isolated, and Mio had approached her thinking she looked lonely—since then, they had grown close.

Mio felt a quiet sense of defeat. There is no correct way to make friends.

"Uh-huh. I really, really want to. Miyabi, come eat too."

Upon closer listening, Mio realized Emissa was expressing what she herself wanted.

In that sense, Yaka was an easy friend for Mio.

"Yeah, okay."

Hasegawa Maki.

The girl who spoke to Mio the most since the first day—after she'd called Mio's hair pretty.

They often discussed books they'd read together, recommended new ones to each other.

"By the way, Maki. That book last time wasn't bad at all."

"Really? I'm starting to understand Emessa's taste."

Maki's face brightened at Emessa's praise—difficult to interpret, but to Emessa, it meant something deeply amusing.

Understanding a friend brought joy. Her expression said it all.

"What about you, Mio?"

"...Too childish, I think."

The Penguin's Great Adventure, lent by Mio, apparently didn't appeal to Emessa.

Mio felt a quiet loneliness—unable to share her favorite things.

"It was interesting."

"I prefer something more mature."

"But Penguin's Great Adventure seems to have adult fans too, doesn't it?"

Emessa blinked, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah, there's a deep theme hidden within the simple story meant for children."

"Um..."

She felt as though she’d been told she was still a child for failing to find it, and fell silent.

In contrast, Mio, an avid reader, opened her mouth in quiet admiration.

"Really?"

"You haven’t found it yet either, have you? That’s fine. I’ll find it for you—and tell you."

"Hey! The duel in the third volume, at the Ice-Bird Penguin Village—really intense. You absolutely have to read that far!"

"Stop casually spoiling it!"

They laughed as they finished eating their meal cubes, and the time for battle arrived.

"Let’s go, Mio. Today, we’ll crush them once and for all."

"Ooh! Let's crush them!"

"Both of you shouldn't say something so rough, now, should you?"

Jin's weak protest does not stop Mio now.

Because this is.

"Cheating won't be forgiven!"

After all, this is a rebellion by her subordinates.

The incident began with Tokuya Mamoru—the first of Mio's subordinates—speaking up.

"Why should I become a subordinate just because I lost a race?"

A reasonable argument.

Especially since he was the one who started it in the first place.

Because of his words, a bandit-like logic was carved into Mio's mind: win a race—become a subordinate. His guilt is deep.

Unaware of this, the victims—one and two—better known as Subordinates Two and Three, joined Tokuya's rebellion.

Thus began the noon break dodgeball match.

The first to win two consecutive rounds makes the loser their subordinate. Nothing fundamental has changed.

What began as a three-on-three mini-game had, by some unspoken shift, become a class-wide boys versus girls match.

Perhaps they would soon forget the original purpose.

In essence, peace prevailed.

"Today, I'm ending this once and for all!"

"Toya-kun can't do math. Mio won yesterday, so the resolution lies with us."

Shu, unfortunately, scored zero in math.

"Y-you shut up! Does knowing math make you special or something?!"

"At least it's better than nothing. That's a given. You absolute idiot!"

Emissa delivers a scathing rebuke to Shu's sour grapes. Unlike Mio, her scorn is unrelenting. The boys' morale erodes with each passing word.

"Shut up, ugly!"

"Studying doesn't help in battle!"

"We live by our athleticism!"

While Ya desperately holds back Emissa, who is ready to respond with force, Mio says, puzzled.

"But everyone's slower than Mio?"

Though Emissa usually dominates in verbal attacks, Mio strikes precisely when it matters.

The boys, finally out of replies, start the match with barely suppressed tears.

As for Mio’s team, they are unexpectedly strong.

Ya studies rules and tactics thoroughly.

Emissa devises ruthless offensive strategies based on that knowledge.

And Mio executes them flawlessly.

With these three at the core, they hold their own against the boys.

"Go, Mio! Aim for the groin!"

Understood.

This is why.

Mio’s pinpoint accuracy keeps felling the boys, sending them to the outfield, incapacitated.

A strategy without mercy.

And simply put, low-velocity pitches aimed at the lower body are difficult to handle.

Mio’s control rarely wavers—making the strategy a near-certain win on two levels.

Yet the boys’ motor coordination was uniformly superior.

Though the girls outnumbered them, their skill level varied widely.

And then, time ran out—since fewer players in the outfield meant victory, the girls had narrowly avoided being overwhelmed.

Today, however, the boys had a secret tactic.

"Let’s go—Formation A!"

At the signal, all the boys dropped to their knees, lowering their hips.

That alone made Mio’s target—her intended point of impact—significantly harder to reach.

The boys were desperate.

They had practiced catching with full-body coverage, desperate to protect themselves from Mio’s precision.

If enveloped completely, her throws would rarely result in an out.

“Hmph. This despicable one.”

“Don’t talk to me about sportsmanship from someone who only aims at the groin!”

“Where’s your decency?”

Boos from the boys.

“What? You’re the ones who can’t catch it! That’s just because you’re bad! Mio’s short, so the ball trajectory’s low!”

Emissa, who demanded a groin shot, now spits this out.

Her dirty tactics are clearly affecting Mio.

The boys, switching sides, immediately hurl the ball at the girls and score.

Emissa clicks her tongue as the ball finally returns.

“Such a bunch of fools.”

“‘Fools’—you don’t say that often.”

“Fools!”

“Sharon, got any good ideas?”

“Um… maybe aim for the shoulders? With that formation, if we angle it right, we could hit both.”

“Alright, Mio. Slider!”

Mio responds to the reckless request.

“Got it!”

and responds lightly.

Yamato thinks, somewhat disrespectfully, of the two of them like a pet and its owner.

Mio's thrown ball was truly a slider.

It had nearly the same velocity as a fastball, bending sharply just before the boy in the catching stance reached for it.

On target, the ball bounced off the first boy’s shoulder and headed toward the next, where it was caught squarely on the face.

"Got it, you two!"

"Second one was a face hit—safe, Mio-chan."

"Really?"

Mio memorizes the rule: face hits are safe.

The ball moves again, to another boy.

"Carmine! Aim for Carmine!"

"Don’t put that guy and Higashi on the same field!"

The boy is quite serious, focusing intently on Emisa.

Having Mio and her partner together means Mio will execute unforgivable tactics—she is a source of dread for the boys.

If they don’t separate the two, who knows what they’ll do next.

“H-Hey, that’s cowardly! Attacking a single girl—this is why boys are like this!”

“You’re one to talk!”

Emissa collapses, tripped by a barrage of concentrated fire from the boys.

“Die!”

A throw laced with murderous intent. Emissa shuts her eyes, bracing for impact—but pain does not come.

“Emissa is protected by Mio…!”

Gracefully. Like a knight, Mio stands before Emissa. Emissa’s cheeks flush slightly at the sight of her silhouette.

And the crucial ball? Perfectly caught—right on the face.

“Face is safe!”

She declares this with composure, blood trickling from her nose.

Ignoring the panicked girls, Shu pauses the game and lightly taps Mio’s head.

“Idiot. Let’s go to the infirmary.”

Mio offers no resistance, accustomed to the routine. Shu leads her away.

A veteran who showed up on their first day with a nosebleed. The expression on their face was different.

"Cheater. Mio’s safe, yet!"

"Got blood on my face, so I’m switching out."

Shu dragged Mio along as she complained.

That evening, after returning home, Mio stood before Jin, her clothes stained with blood, muttering regretfully, “I lost….”