01 Do Not Touch

"...Jin"

Jin nibbles at breakfast with a vacant expression.

Perhaps his palate has grown refined lately. He feels dissatisfied with the texture of the cube food—just chewiness, nothing more.

"...Jin-san"

His thoughts lag behind.

The reason is obvious.

He hasn't slept enough.

He hasn't actually reduced his sleep duration.

He goes to bed at the same time as Mio. He should have had ample ten hours.

"Otō-san!"

"What is it? Mio. Yelling so loud this early."

"I've been calling you several times already."

"Ah... right, I forgot."

"Hot water's ready."

Indeed, the kettle has long since boiled.

He hastily pours coffee for himself and cocoa for Mio.

"Otō-san's been spacing out a lot lately."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Something like..."

Mio tilts her head slightly, mouth half-open, eyes drifting aimlessly into space. Jin hesitates, then cautiously asks.

"Could it be..."

"Copying dad."

"No way..."

The expression on his face—caught like that by his daughter—was a shock to Jin.

And apparently, he made that face so often that she could mimic it perfectly.

A double shock.

"Is dad having trouble with something?"

Jin flinched at Mio's question.

He feigned calm, then asked back.

"Why do you think that?"

"Emissa said people who space out are usually troubled."

"Is that so..."

He recalls the red-haired girl from the previous barbecue.

She had bonded oddly with May.

Yes, she would say something like that.

"I'm not troubled."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Hmm. Speaking of which, Sharon hasn't been over lately."

Jin flinches again at the question.

"Busy lately. There's a major event coming up soon."

"A guy who’s going on a trip for about two weeks?"

"Yeah, that’s right."

"...A little lonely."

The deployment training has already been explained to Mio.

A babysitter has been arranged accordingly. This time, it was possible to reserve early, so there was availability.

"Any souvenirs?"

"A—ah, souvenirs?"

Jin thinks quickly.

The most souvenir-like thing...

"I’ll bring back a stone from the planet I visit."

"Ah—"

Not well received.

Honestly, Jin doesn’t think he’d be happy receiving one himself.

But there’s nothing else he can bring back.

"Otherwise, there are snacks from the spaceport."

"Those are better!"

"Is that so..."

It’s a little sad—thinking that something you could buy anytime would be more appreciated.

"Sharon, when did she say she’d come next?"

"I—uh, when was it...?"

Jin unconsciously avoids Mio’s gaze.

Can’t say it.

She hasn’t come home lately because of the complicated situation between me and Sharon.

◆ ◆ ◆

A sudden confession.

Perhaps not sudden, though.

Something she’d carried inside for a long time—something she likely intended to hide indefinitely.

It was exposed, surely, because—

Jin had unintentionally wandered too close.

Because he’d crossed an unspoken boundary maintained by distance.

That’s when he could no longer hold back.

“Jin, how do you feel?”

The question.

Naturally asked.

“How do you feel about me…?”

I liked her.

Still a dear friend.

He knew those words weren’t what she wanted.

He knew what she wanted.

Six years ago—no, even four years ago—it would have been easy to say.

Now, he cannot.

“I still like you, Mio.”

Instead, he spoke as if fleeing. One truth was revealed.

"I know."

"Then why—"

The unspoken question hanging in Jin’s words—why bring this up now—seemed to reach Sharon.

"I said it. I’ll take it back."

Still seated on the sofa. Jin’s shoulder is pressed down.

Sharon’s body draws near.

He arches back, trying to maintain distance—until he is finally laid flat.

"If it were Commander Rei, I wouldn’t do this. But, Jin. Acknowledge it. Already—"

"Don’t say it."

Jin’s right hand tightens around the ring.

"Not that. Please don’t say that."

He knows, right now, his face must look pitiful. Jin is aware of it.

Still, he cannot remain silent.

He does not want to hear it from another’s mouth—that Rei is no longer here.

Sharon’s hand touches Jin’s right hand.

Gently. Fingers slip into the clenched fist, easing it open.

In the dim room, Sharon’s golden hair glimmers with an unnatural light.

Look at me.

Her wet eyes peer into Jin’s.

Not just Lieutenant—look at me, right here, right now.

Fingers curl into his right hand.

Sharon’s fingers brush against the twisted ring.

Jin’s mind, gripped by a panic he’s never felt even on the battlefield, snaps awake at the faint tremor.

“Sharon… Sergeant.”

At the name.

Sharon freezes, as if doused in cold water.

“I still love you, Lieutenant. I cannot serve dishonor.”

“Do you hate me?”

“We’re not having that conversation.”

“Then reject me. Push me away. Hard. Make me give up.”

Yes. No. Jin thinks.

Whatever form it takes, Sharon is trying to settle this here.

Trying to change the distance—between this lieutenant and this sergeant.

Closer or farther away.

Either way, as if to end this halfway state once and for all.

If it comes to that, only an unwanted conclusion remains.

Is this truly acceptable?

The voice of my past self, six years ago, whispers within.

It doesn’t matter.

The voice of my past self, two years ago, declares aloud.

And the present self—.

“Dad? Sharon…?”

Mio, blinking drowsily, crawls out of bed.

Movement is swift.

Both rise—Sharon especially, prompting a thought: *Really, are you even a mechanic?*—and settle onto the sofa.

Jin returns to his seated position on the sofa with reflexes that surpass even his battlefield limits.

“Both of you… shouldn’t stay up so late…”

Mio mutters half in dreams, shuffling into the living room.

“Sorry, sorry. I was loud.”

Shirley’s interruption left her confession hanging, neither confirmed nor denied.

But it could not be undone.

“…Sorry, Mio, Jin. I remembered an urgent matter. I’ll be going now.”

“Ah, wait—”

“Going already…?”

Mio’s question, her eyes half-lidded, met only silence as Shirley turned away.

“Sorry. I’ll come back… some other time…”

She hurried into the nanomachine cleaning pod, luggage in hand.

“Sergeant…”

“Let me… see you out…”

“Mio should be asleep already.”

While pushing Mio back into bed, Shirley vanished without a glance.

She couldn’t have offered to walk her home, not even if she’d wanted to.

She left, breaking their connection halfway—neither whole nor severed.

“…Idiot.”

The conclusion remained unresolved.

And Jin could not look away from the certainty of his own relief.

◆ ◆ ◆

One week has passed since then.

Mio’s summer break is nearly over.

During that time, Shirley did not come to the Higashiō family residence.

Not only that.

At the training academy, Jin has not seen Shirley either.

What would he say if they met?

Jin himself does not know.

Yet some conclusion must be reached.

This half-destroyed state—neither whole nor severed—is not comfortable for Jin.

Shall he destroy it completely?

Or rebuild it anew?

And at that moment.

What choice is Jin making now?

He must answer that question.

“Dad, you’re making another weird face.”

“Mm…”

Jin sighs, thinking of Shirley, who has occupied his thoughts so thoroughly lately.

Ironically, just as Shirley wished, Jin now thinks only of her.

If he had been thinking this far ahead, manipulating events all along—then Jin was now thoroughly ensnared by Shirley’s scheme.

"Hey, hey. Papa?"

"What is it, Mio?"

"Adding salt to coffee?"

"...Adults drink it that way."

"Oh, really?"

This past week.

Unaware of it himself, Jin had been entirely useless.