27 Jin's Reason for Fighting 3
"Hey, hey, Dad?"
"Uh? What is it, Mio?"
"Why do we eat chicken and cake on the 25th at Mio's house? Everyone said the 24th."
"Ah. That. Yeah, I suppose."
The reason for eating chicken and cake on the 24th, it turns out, was because an old ace once said so.
Too much influence, isn’t it? Jin and the old ace—this thought crosses the mind.
Regardless, he recalls the peculiar circumstances that led to this odd tradition.
◆ ◆ ◆
"How long are you staying?"
"Huh? Did you say something, Higashi?"
On a December day.
Finally unable to endure it, Jin asked.
"I said—how long do you plan to stay at my place?"
"Oh… yeah…"
A woman named Kusunoki Rei, formerly of the Second Fleet, had rolled into the Third Fleet Defense Force under the command of Higashi Jin—three months had already passed.
"You said you just lost your ID, right? You."
"Yeah. That's right."
"And you requested a replacement."
"That's right."
"...Still haven't gotten it reissued?"
"Ah, well. Tough luck."
"Stop lying so openly."
No matter how long it took, a replacement should have been issued within two weeks.
Yet, it had now exceeded that limit by sixfold.
Jin had not pressed the matter until now—perhaps because he had begun to enjoy this routine.
Nothing extraordinary was happening.
Just returning home after work.
Talking about the day's events. Talking about the past.
Sharing neither bed nor table.
This trivial intimacy had not existed in Jin's life before.
Perhaps to someone else, this would be nothing more than ordinary familial exchange.
But to Jin, who had never known such familiarity, it felt remarkably fresh.
“I’ll leave if I’m a bother. I suppose Christmas is coming up. If you wanted to bring someone, I’d just be in the way.”
“No. I don’t have any plans like that. It’s fine, really…”
In truth, this kind of conversation was not new.
Mio had made to leave, and Jin had hesitated, offering reasons to stay.
Or the reverse—Jin had tried to push her out, and Mio had insisted she still had reasons to remain.
They had continued like this, lingering side by side, day after day.
But Jin now thought it was time to end it.
Or perhaps more simply:
“Your stay visa— is it still valid?”
“Yeah. I’ve extended it.”
“Lost your ID, did you?”
"Yeah... yeah. Still okay, still okay."
Pretense of having lost their ID.
Continue the conversation without breaking it.
"Even so, you just said yourself— plans for Christmas, right?"
"Haha. Wouldn't be here if I had any."
"Sorry about that."
"Which is why we should do something small for Christmas— a little party. Go buy some chicken."
"Cube food’s fine..."
"No, no. How much do you even like cube food? I see you eat it every time."
"Never had anything else."
Jin’s knowledge includes the concept of eating out.
But he does not understand its purpose. Nutritional needs are met by cube food.
"You don’t get the joy of eating... Sōgō-kun."
"Can’t say it’s enjoyable, not really."
“Mmm. This is serious. Good, I understand. Look forward to it. I’ll let you taste something made by a human—food.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I want to.”
The conversation confirmed that this life would extend for another two weeks.
Jin thinks it feels like lukewarm water.
He has never been immersed in such an atmosphere before.
Since when?
He no longer dreads returning home.
He no longer feels discomfort at the thought of Rei greeting him upon his return, having entrusted the physical key.
Two years ago, he recalls his former lover.
Their relationship always brings to mind the workplace.
Always, they were bound together in battle.
No matter where he is, Jin is a lieutenant, and Shirley is a sergeant.
He cannot forget that.
Or perhaps, if there had been someone entirely unrelated—
He might have forgotten the battlefield, adjusted to someone else’s rhythm.
But he could not forget.
Jin’s mind remained fixed on the battlefield.
Ah. That must be it, Jin thinks.
Because of that, he believes he was abandoned by her.
Seen from her perspective, it becomes clear.
Someone who always carries the killing intent of the battlefield—no one would wish to live alongside such a person.
As he thinks this, Rei quietly peers into Jin’s face.
“What?”
“You looked deep in thought. I wondered what you were thinking.”
“Nothing important.”
“Thinking about your previous lover?”
Caught off guard, Jin stammers.
“Eh? No—wait, you hit it. I didn’t mean to say that.”
Damn it, he suppresses a curse.
To be caught by something so trivial—this was a rare lapse.
Ah, but.
When was the last time he’d made such a mistake?
Being with Rei now brings back a feeling he hasn’t known in a long time.
It was something he hadn’t felt while with Sharon.
A constant tension, stretched taut—proof of it.
“Earlier, I wanted to ask—about that thing, you know, the reason we fight. You cut it off mid-sentence.”
“Ah. That did happen…”
He’d reconsidered mid-sentence why he should even speak to you about it.
Every time he tried to continue, he’d inevitably have to speak of Sharon.
He’d avoided it.
“Come on, now’s a good chance. Finish it. We’ve gotten a little closer, haven’t we? I can listen seriously now.”
“Didn’t you say before that you couldn’t talk because we were strangers?”
“Did I?”
He stuck out his tongue to deflect, and Jin exhaled once.
He’d had no intention of speaking to anyone.
And yet—
“My people I want to protect… they were all beside me.”
The words slipped out, for reasons he couldn’t name.
The people I met after leaving the facility, at the training academy—they are my comrades. The ones I want to protect. But they are all my battle companions. They fight alongside me.
Rei listens in silence to this monologue.
A past he cannot forget. A childhood spent nearly abandoned at the facility.
Escaping that place, meeting comrades at the academy.
Rei imagines.
Perhaps that was the first time Jin had allowed himself to be vulnerable.
Perhaps the first time he had time to care about anything beyond survival.
But even that did not last long.
They were all men who had chosen military service.
Guardians of the convoy. Those who sacrificed their lives for that duty.
"I realized right after my commissioning. People die easily. There is no safe battlefield."
Perhaps, as a statistic, it amounted to less than one percent of the whole.
But as a personal loss, it was a number impossible to ignore.
The one you wish to protect is beside you. But. If you go to war, you cannot protect everyone.
That isn’t a reason to fight?
There is no one I wish to protect on my back. People like that die so I can stand beside others. I cannot endure it.
Is that all?
...I don’t want to fight.
That was Jin’s true feeling.
Why must we do this? Why only us? Don’t be absurd.
Jin had no choice.
There was no path of refusal.
Therefore. He differed greatly from the others.
Whether many or few, they chose their path themselves and became soldiers.
There was a reason. Different for each person, but a reason.
But I can do nothing but fight. That is all I do. I don’t truly wish to fight, but I have no other way.
That is why Jin has no reason to fight.
There is nothing left to do, so he kills himself first.
It is fine, Jin thinks, as long as that is the case.
Even without finding meaning in combat itself, he can protect his neighbors, his comrades.
That should be enough.
“Really just that? You didn’t think to protect someone behind you?”
That was a question Jin did not wish to hear.
He should not have wanted more.
He knew that, yet still he had wanted it.
He recalls the gleam of golden hair.
She would have been—
Perhaps he could have fought, shielding someone behind him.
The outcome… was not what Jin desired.
“There was. But it was impossible.”
He does not voice the details.
Yet Rei presses, unsatisfied.
“Why did you think it was impossible?”
“Nothing… could have been…”
Rejected.
That truth pierces him like a thorn.
“It was impossible. That’s all.”
……I wonder if that’s really true.
Rei muttered, her expression puzzled.
"Because… Tohgo-kun, right now—"
The room’s chime sounded.
Rei’s words were cut short.
……Who is it?
Jin’s expression shifted to wary confusion at the unexpected visitor.
He moved toward the intercom, answering the call.
……What?
The words spoken there brought an end.