03 One month ago

The day's lessons concluded.

Not long ago, this was club time. Now, as a student preparing for exams, she heads home straight to study.

An unremarkable, ordinary day.

The tranquil days that had persisted for these past eight years.

Mio thinks she wants to keep living like this, unchanged, forever.

It's fine to be ordinary.

I don't want a year full of chaos like the first one I spent with Jin.

I'm home—

And saying that, Mio opens the door to the house.

He had not expected a reply, yet Jin's answer came, contrary to expectation.

Welcome back, Mio.

"Dad. You're early."

Ah. I had the afternoon off today.

Unusual

Mio sets her bag down in her room, then drinks water.

Jin has been transferred to the教导 team five years ago.

Mio could not clearly distinguish between an Instructor and a regular soldier, but she understood roughly that this unit trained by engaging in simulated combat with active-duty personnel rather than trainees.

Jin returned slightly later than during his time as an Instructor, and occasionally left on missions that required overnight stays.

That made his return at this hour—when Mio typically returned—unusual.

"Actually, another mission has come in."

"Is that so. How many days this time?"

"About a week, I’d say."

That was quite long. Mio thought.

Still, household duties were shared as usual.

Jin’s absence wouldn’t be a problem.

"I understand. Be careful."

She had heard this countless times from various people.

Jin’s skill as a pilot was, frankly, abnormal.

Even past his mid-thirties, past his peak, he still maintained a top-tier performance.

In truth, as far as Mio could recall, Jin had not been injured—except during that first year.

That year had been extraordinary in the history of the convoy, an anomaly among anomalies.

Thus, Mio was not particularly concerned.

He would be away for a short time, return soon, as always.

"Anyway. I thought I’d explain things around here."

Jin transferred several documents onto the virtual display hovering before Mio’s eyes.

She glanced at them casually—then paused, her voice sharp with doubt.

"Contract?"

"This one’s the contract for the room. This is the electricity and heating agreement. And this is our bank account. Don’t touch it."

"Wait."

"Next, if anything goes wrong, contact this person. My superior. He’ll handle it properly."

"Wait, Dad."

A word she had never heard from him before.

It was as if—

Why now… say something like that…?

It sounded like a final statement.

A bad premonition swelled within Mio.

I want normalcy.

I want the same daily routine as before.

That’s what I thought.

…Honestly, this mission is extremely dangerous.

Jin spoke reluctantly.

It’s the largest-scale operation since the start of cosmic colonization. A strike against ASID’s central command.

Mio tightened her grip on the skirt of her uniform. Unmindful of the creases forming.

The Third Fleet’s entire escort fleet will be deployed. Honestly, we don’t know if we can win.

He explained.

A super-sized entity, larger than a fleet.

One of them has already captured the Third Fleet.

An escape attempt via overlight has already been made—but the enemy hasn’t lost track of us.

They will catch up eventually. If that happens, protecting the fleet completely will be impossible.

"We were supposed to coordinate with other fleets to eliminate them."

But that window of opportunity has been lost.

Even knowing full well the folly of sequential deployment of forces, we cannot afford to lose the fleet.

In other words, the escort fleet of the Third Fleet must—buy time for that purpose.

"Still, once we realize there's no chance of winning, we'll just focus on buying time and running. It'll be fine. Just in case, though."

Jin speaks quickly, but Mio cannot nod in agreement without hesitation.

"...Don't go to dangerous places."

She knows she's being selfish.

But after hearing this, Mio can only speak as she did in her childhood—selfishly.

I don't want you to go to such dangerous places.

"Otōsan, you said it was a teaching unit. A place to instruct others. Then there's no need to go to such dangerous places."

"Yeah... that's right. I could've stayed behind, really."

Jin nodded in response to Mio's pleading tone.

Nodding, then shaking his head.

"Sorry. This time, I volunteered myself."

"Why...?"

"I never told you, Mio. Two years ago, I lost someone important. Killed by that super-sized species."

The light in Jin's eyes at that moment—something Mio had seen before.

The same light she'd seen in the early days, when she still called him Otōsan, not Jin.

"I know it's pointless. But I... I have to avenge him."

Gripping the twisted ring at his chest, Jin winced.

Mio knew, of course, about the ring Jin never parted with. The one he'd worn since before they'd met.

She had asked once what it was. He had laughed, evaded the question, called it something precious.

Integrating that with what he had just said, Mio thought it must be the heirloom of someone precious.

Ten years.

Even after that span, that someone still remained within Jin.

Don’t go.

If she cried and clung to him, Jin might abandon his vengeance right now.

That was Mio’s instinct.

A prediction that holding on would keep him.

Eight years as a daughter had taught her that.

“—Absolutely, absolutely come back.”

But Mio stepped back.

“Run if it gets dangerous. Don’t push yourself.”

She was certain that if she stopped here, Jin would carry that someone forever.

She did not want that.

It was unbearable for her to think her father endured something because of her.

Instead, she clung to him tightly.

So what if someone calls me a daddy’s girl?

This is the safest place in the universe.

"I’m fine. I have no intention of dying before Mio grows up."

A laugh, laced with warmth, descends from above.

Her hair is gently brushed—she feels as though she has returned to childhood.

Being held by Jin like this is what she loves most.

"No. Stay alive until you’re an old woman."

"That sounds quite difficult."

"Promise me. Absolutely. Absolutely. Absolutely come back."

If he’s going to a dangerous place, there’s nothing left to do but pray for his safety.

If he can’t be stopped, the only thing left is to pray for his return.

"Next month’s birthday. I’ll celebrate it for sure."

"I promise."

◆ ◆ ◆

And yet, we made that promise.

'No return from the deployed fleet yet. No official announcement from the administration.'

The news entered her field of view. Mio said nothing, then deactivated the virtual display.

Jin had never broken a promise.

He had delayed fulfillment on many occasions, but he had always kept his word, even after the deadline passed.

"……It'll be fine."

She repeated this to herself.

Three weeks beyond schedule.

Jin had not returned.

Worse. The fleet he had deployed with had vanished entirely.

One week until her birthday.

Father still had not come back.

"Normal would be better……"

Eight years after the last time, Mio clenched her lips as chaos reemerged around her.

She had prayed for her father’s return—then deliberately stopped herself from thinking about it.

She had done the same the first year.

Again, Jin had disappeared. She had prayed for his return.

What had she wished for?

Even she could not say.

But the wish had come true.

Something Mio did not know had granted her wish.

That was frightening.

Three times in the past had Mio truly wished from the depths of her heart.

Once, when Jin went missing in space.

Once, when Shu was stabbed on Planet Merce.

Once—when she first argued with Jin.

She knew the one who granted the wishes, except the first.

She feared that she felt no fear toward that one.

Because that one—

is said to be humanity's enemy.

It is said to have killed many throughout history.

Why, then—did she feel closeness toward it?

Fearful.

Fearful. Fearful.

It frightened her to think she might not be ordinary.

"Otō-san..."

When near her father, such不安 vanished.

With Jin, she had felt safe—no matter the threat.

But now, her father was gone.

Mio feels on the verge of being crushed by her own fear.

"Come back soon..."