37 Return to Ship

"Hey, Tōgō Jin."

"Going back, huh. Chi."

In the spaceport lobby, Chi raised one hand in greeting toward Jin.

He had intended to visit her after returning to the fleet, only to find that the sister-in-name-only who had nearly become his sister had already decided to depart.

Too sudden. Despite having just returned himself, Jin was now making a round-trip back to the spaceport.

He felt as though his questions for Shu had been cut short.

Despite the abrupt schedule, Jin found the casual demeanor unexpectedly disarming, and asked what brought him here.

"Already discharged from the medbay, aren't you? Why not rest a little longer?"

"Would love to... but Mother’s worried. I should head back soon."

"Yeah... I see. That makes sense."

He wanted to show his parents a healthy face. Jin understood that completely.

Moreover, her sister has already lost her life without her parents' knowledge.

If even her younger sister is worrying, she would want to show a healthy face as soon as possible.

"...I heard you defended me. Thank you."

"Nothing worth thanking for. I merely stated the facts."

The destination of the Harold Fleet, as revealed by her words.

Without that information, the Third Fleet would never have been able to join the battle in the first place.

The value of that revelation is immense.

That is why Chi is not detained like the other personnel of the Harold Fleet—only monitored.

"What will you do when you return?"

The Laitera Project is already destroyed.

Chi has no reason to fight anymore.

"What will I do, I wonder."

That is precisely why she is at a loss with herself right now.

The desperate longing is gone.

How should she handle this hollow shell of a self?

What should she set as her goal from here on?

"For now, stay quiet at home. There's no choice but to do that, isn't there?"

"Yeah..."

Even if she wished it, returning to the military might not be possible.

Perhaps it's time to turn her attention to something new, Chi thinks.

But the will to look toward that new thing refuses to rise.

"Ah. That's right. This..."

Chi hands the damaged tablet device—cracked from a bullet impact—to Jin.

It's clearly broken beyond repair.

"What's this?"

She nearly says to just throw it out on designated collection day, when a faint recognition tugs at her memory.

She pulls the memory closer, and the truth dawns.

"Wait—is this Lord's terminal?"

"Yeah. I dropped it when I fled the fleet. I retrieved it just recently."

Jin doesn't take it. Chi presses it against his chest.

"Hey."

Take it. I don’t know if the data can be recovered, but her sister’s diary was inside.

He takes the tablet.

"...Her diary."

"Truthfully, reading it made me feel embarrassed."

"That’s right... You said you figured out the password, didn’t you? How did you even manage that?"

Ordinarily, guessing at random wouldn’t work.

"What? Was it something obvious, like my name?"

"No. The password was... MIO. Mio."

Jin isn’t optimistic enough to think it was mere coincidence.

The reason why Rei knew the name of the daughter he would name two years later.

He understands the logic behind it.

"Was Litera successful...?"

"Likely."

But Jin thinks otherwise.

Mio failed.

Harold severed the connection with Litera first. That’s what she said. Her information didn’t lag behind.

The world Jin saw was merely a reflection of Harold’s intent. That was how it had to be.

“Even I’ve heard Litera’s reasoning. Ether communication to the past using a single ether. But, Jin—”

Chi raised one finger and asked.

“If we follow that logic from the beginning, only the person operating the Reactor could send information to the past… which means only Mio.”

“…Indeed.”

If absolute singularity were required, Harold would have had no room to intervene at all.

“In short, what’s required isn’t singularity, but high purity. Whether it’s Eleven Nine or something else, I don’t know—but it doesn’t need to be 100 percent.”

“Fair enough… but what exactly are you getting at?”

“The hypothesis is that Mio sent her information before Harold did.”

If high purity is required, then Mio's transmission alone would unquestionably be purer than one tainted by Harold's interference.

Then Chi says, "Possibly Mio sent the information earlier than Harold."

"Frankly, we don’t know for sure."

"Tell that kind of complicated thing to someone who understands complications..."

"What was written in the diary was that her sister had seen two futures."

That word resonated with Jin.

A phrase spoken like a delirium, spoken by Chi when on the brink of death.

He had not taken it seriously at the time.

"Her sister knew. What would happen if she boarded the communication vessel. What would happen if she did not."

"...Knew?"

The words elicited little surprise.

Because Jin had seen it.

He had seen Rei, burdened by deep regret over a choice made.

Wasn’t that exactly what this was?

The world that moved to avoid a future it had seen—its own death.

Could that have been the world Jin had drowned in?

Could that have been the second future Rei had seen?

“Ah. One thing I’d like to ask… does an Ace see two futures?”

“…No.”

Jin shook his head at the words.

That had never happened.

There had been cases where two Aces saw different futures, but never one Ace seeing two futures simultaneously.

If Laitera’s trait was the same as an Ace’s foresight, seeing two futures was impossible.

“Then there’s only one answer. Your sister didn’t see two futures. She saw two futures’ worth.”

“Sevens… the Terminus Queen said the soul that became Mio carried my presence most strongly.”

He had believed only Rei qualified.

But considering the world Jin had drowned in, another person must have qualified as well.

"Parent and child—ether quality would be similar... even if mixed, purity would still be higher than that of complete strangers."

"That means, potentially, she could reach the past before Harold’s information did."

"Hypothesis. Only Harold-sama might know if it's true."

Indeed, Jin nods.

No one alive now could know. Not unless research were restarted.

This is a matter of possibility.

Chain of inference upon inference... a maybe.

"So Mio-chan isn't the older sister. Not the one who was the sister back then—"

"We can't see souls, anyway."

Interrupting Chi’s words, Jin murmurs.

"Whether souls exist at all is uncertain. What they are, even more so. The Terminus group claims they do."

But Jin doesn’t want to be led by such vague, shapeless notions any longer.

Besides.

"Mio is my daughter. No condition attached to that changes it, and I will not let any such condition dictate my judgment."

Even if the origin of that fact were known.

It holds no meaning for Jin now.

"Mio is Mio. No one else."

That is all Jin needs to know. Likely, the same holds true for Shu.

"...That's right."

Chi smiled faintly at Jin's words.

She turned on her heel and walked toward the boarding ramp.

"Goodbye, Shōkō Jin. We'll probably never meet again."

Chi, unable to leave the Second Fleet.

Jin, unable to leave the Third Fleet.

Perhaps she was right.

But Jin thought otherwise.

"I met the order. I thought I'd never see it again, yet somehow, we met once more."

Even someone who should never have been encountered could be found.

Compared to that—

...I envy you. I never got to meet her. I thought I could meet her anytime I wanted.

That's right. Meeting someone who's alive is simple enough. If you're willing, you can meet them anytime. If you can meet someone who isn't alive, then you'll probably meet them again too.

...As long as you're alive, then...

Then, Chi recalls.

The words from the hospital. Mio’s words: "I’m fine," and encouragement to stay strong.

I never thought I'd see him again.

But we met.

Unlike her sister, everyone else is still alive.

Perhaps, somewhere, fate intersects.

The way you say it, it almost feels like it could actually happen.

The smile Chi wore as she spoke was slightly more animated than before—.

Jin felt he had drawn a little closer to her face from the time he had first met her.