1

What met me when I got back to Fortran wasn’t some grand victory parade—no, it was a mountain of reports.

I suppose you could say it's to be expected, what with it being an army and all—but this move’s downright cruel…

The machine was lifted straight away and, under Orell’s and Ritz’s direction, was being repaired—though both said it’d take quite some time to fix everything, so I might as well just take my time writing up the report, and they laughed about it.

Ah... I can't take it anymore...

I slump face-down onto my desk in my room.

I’d been scribbling reports all morning, sharp and tense—then, by evening, that mountain of paper still hadn’t shrunk an inch, and my head started spinning.

Fuel consumption, costs for parts swapped out on the battlefield, ammo, rations, sundries—everything added up, and then there was the captain’s hospital bill. All of it had to come out of the unit’s budget. If it wasn’t enough, we’d have to ask headquarters for more.

With Thirty-One’s budget, fuel, food, and ammo weren’t a problem. But throw in repairs to the mechs, and it’s not just a foot that’s gone—it’s like the whole leg’s been yanked out from under you.

To get headquarters to pay for it, we need to write even more paperwork. And I still have the captain’s transfer form to file, plus the forms to recruit new crew.

But the thing that’s got me scratching my head the most? The enemy mech destruction report.

I keep thinking, do I really need to do this? The enemy mech destruction reports—they’re self-reported, so if I don’t write and submit them properly, my kills won’t show up in the records, and no medal’ll come my way.

If I’d known that, I wouldn’t’ve taken down four machines… and then there’s the captured mech report, which needs to go in a separate form. So I’m just shuffling through old records, copying the style, scratching my head, trying to get it right.

That’s why I’m completely worn out—both body and mind—when the door knocks.

“Eld-kun, how’re you holding up?”

Ange walks in, dressed like a maid. She carries a tray with a cup on it, steam curling up from the rim.

She sees me face-down on the desk and gives a wry smile as she steps inside.

“Looks like you’re wiped out.”

“Wiped out? That’s not even close… this is hell.”

"But more than half’s already done, right?"

"Just basic stuff, though. What’s left is all the parts I couldn’t figure out how to write—gotta look them up, that’s all."

Which makes it all the more annoying.

"Hey, what if we just say three planes shot down?"

Still get the Lion’s Medal that way.

But Ange shot that down.

"No way. The kill report’s used to plan future squad budgets and staffing. Gotta write it all properly, or later we’ll get called out on contradictions. Might even get summoned."

"Please, just let that part slide."

Ugh! Why’d I have to shoot down four planes back then?! Could’ve kept it to three! Me, a few days ago!

"Here, I brought your favorite coffee. Drink up and push through."

"Thanks."

I take the cup from Ange, take a sip.

The intense sweetness spreads across my mouth, milk's rich thickness soothing my dry throat.

"Uh-huh, tasty."

"I can't even get why you like it."

Ange’s coffee—well, it’s barely coffee anymore. More milk than coffee, really, like eight parts milk to two parts brew. And then she piles on the sugar. It’s a sugar-drenched milk, sweet enough to make your teeth ache.

"Feels good when you’re tired, you know?"

"Even when you’re not. You drink that stuff like it’s your breath. Eld, your taste buds are way too childish."

"I’m not saying I can’t handle black. I get the charm of plain coffee, too."

I just happen to like it sweet.

"That’s exactly what makes you childish..."

"Anyway, one more push. Finish this by tonight, then tomorrow we’re celebrating with a proper holiday."

"Good luck. I’ll help however I can."

No need to push yourself so hard. You’ve got your own things to do, Ange, don’t you?

I’m always fussing over my paperwork, but Ange’s got her own duties as a support maid. Right now, Mirajou’s tied up tending to Captain Bodwan, so all the other work’s fallen on Ange’s shoulders.

I don’t think she’s got time to help me, really.

“Mostly, it’s just keeping an eye on everyone’s health. Orell and Ritz are holed up in the hangar fixing the craft, Karine’s already off shopping in the capital like she said yesterday, and Bnois took off with the captain’s clothes to Huylen… so it’s just Eld-kun left to look after.”

“Nah, you should look after Orell and Ritz.”

Those two are just too pitiful…

"Can't do it. Whenever I try to help, they shove me out right away. Guess I’m eating with the mechanics now—really don’t got anything to do. If Eld-kun’d just hand in those papers, I could at least keep track of the supplies we get."

"I’ll try my best..."

It’s not my fault I’ve got no work to do!

Then I’d better get some damn work ready, hadn’t I?

"Guess I’ll push a little more, huh?"

"Supper’ll be ready in a bit—come back then."

"Got it."

I downed another wave of that cloyingly sweet coffee and turned back to the papers.

Next day. Anje and I arrived at the command center, lugging a mountain of completed paperwork.

"Sorry—where do we turn in these documents?"

"What kind of documents are these?"

"Quite a mix, really. Attack reports, supply deliveries, recruitment requests, budget reimbursements—you name it."

"Indeed, quite the assortment. I’ll handle this individually, so please wait in room 302 on the third floor."

"Understood."

Following the receptionist’s instructions, I head toward the designated room on the third floor.

It’s a small private room, like a visiting lounge—just right for a quiet chat or two.

We don’t have to wait long before a woman walks in, carrying a tray of tea.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

She sets the tea down in front of us, then settles into the sofa.

"I’m Filia, from the general affairs office. You’ve brought quite a pile of documents—let me check them over. Anything that’s in order, I’ll accept and forward to the proper departments."

"Got it. Thank you."

I take the papers she hands me, quickly flipping through them, sorting as I go.

Occasionally, I’d find a mistake in the handwriting and fix it on the spot.

After about twenty minutes of checking and correcting, I took a sip of tea and let out a relieved breath. No fatal errors—just minor omissions or misplaced entries, all easy to fix right there. Lucky me.

If I had to redo the whole thing, I’d probably just sulk and flop into bed.

The woman gathered the papers with a light tap, smiling gently.

“Then I’ll take these documents. And… do you have some free time later?”

“Yes, I’m free.”

Later, I’ll probably just do some solo practice and go to bed. Nothing special planned.

I nodded, and suddenly Ange—why, I don’t know—clutched the hem of my coat, eyes sharp with caution.

“Commander Moris would like to meet you. Please come to the command room after this.”

“Commander Moris?”

“Probably just a simple chat. Seems like Commander Moris is giving some advice to a knight who’s never been in battle before.”

“Is that so.”

Yeah, I guess neither Ange nor I have ever seen real war before.

“I’ll visit after this.”

“Please do.”

I stepped out of the room, heading for the stairs. On the way, I asked Ange about what had just happened.

“Hey, why’d you get so on edge?”

“W-well…”

She turned away, ears faintly red, her hand still clutching the hem of my coat.

“Eld-kun, you’re way too oblivious to your own popularity.”

“Is that so? Well, I suppose I don’t really think about it much.”

Since being assigned as a pilot, I’ve had a few people approach me. But mostly just things like “Please shake my hand” or “Can you sign something?”—I’d give a quick reply and move on.

“That’s just the old talk! Since you came back from Jakarta, the rumors’ve been running wild—Eld, you’re some kind of legend now!”

“Is that so?”

I haven’t even walked straight down the street properly since I got back. The only people I’ve actually talked to could fit on one hand, maybe less.

“An eighteen-year-old rookie—single-handedly turned back the Empire’s invasion! Lion’s Medal, no question. That’s your current status, okay?! Girls don’t just ignore that kind of thing!”

“Single-handedly turned it back…? I just took down four machines.”

“Four machines, in that mess? That’s the same as turning it back! The others were practically dead in the water!”

“Yeah, I guess…”

But, truth is, I only got my chance because the captain pulled through first.

If I’d crashed into that mercenary’s red machine, I might’ve won—but I wouldn’t’ve been able to keep going after that. That’s how strong that mercenary was.

“Personal opinions mean nothing compared to rumors. So right now, if Eld-kun heads into town, he’ll be swarmed by military girls.”

“But that didn’t happen today, did it?”

I walked from the dorm to headquarters all on foot. I felt eyes on me, sure—but no one called out.

“Because I gave them the stink-eye, that’s why!”

“Oh, so that’s why. Means I should just ask Ange along whenever I go out from now on.”

“Huh? Huh? Wait—does that mean I’m the one he wants? That I’m the one he’s after?!”

“Hmm, who knows? Come on, we’re in the command room—keep it down.”

“Trying to brush it off now, are you!?”

Ange poked my back with flushed cheeks, grinning, and I just sighed, stepping onto the fifth floor where the command room was.

Sorry, Ange. Just a little longer, okay?

Ignoring the frantic, silent plea in her eyes, I knocked on the command room door.

"Third Eleven Armunale, Eld and Ange. We've come as summoned."

"Enter."

"Excuse me."

Inside, the Commander was doing paperwork at his desk by the window, just like last time. Probably a mountain of forms from other squads, too—maybe even a few times more than me. Just being the squad leader sounds like a real chore.

"Sit on the sofa and wait. Sena, tea, please."

"Coming right away."

The Commander rang a bell, calling out to the next room, and a reply came back almost instantly.

We just sat on the sofa like we were told, waiting for the commander’s business to wind down a bit.

A little while later, Sena came out from the next room, pushing a rolling cart.

Sena spotted Ange and gave a small smile. Come to think of it, Sena had mentioned once that she did some teaching at the academy as a support maid when she had free time—maybe she knew Ange.

“Long time no see, Ange-chan. You’ve been doing well, I hope?”

“Good to see you again, Sena-san. Yes, I’m doing my best! Everyone in my squad’s been kind, and I’ve learned a lot from the senior, Mirage-san.”

“That’s good to hear. It’ll be tough from here on, but keep at it.”

“Yes!”

Ange nodded happily, took a sip of the tea, then wrinkled her nose—definitely not a match for the brew.

“Eld-kun, you’ve been making quite a name for yourself, I hear. Even Fortran’s talking about it.”

"Sounds like it’s been blown out of proportion, huh."

"Word of mouth’s always like that. That’s kind of the point of a report, isn’t it?"

"Yeah… took me a real effort to write it."

We were chatting like that when the commander finally wrapped up his briefing and rose from his seat, stepping over toward us.

"Made you wait."

"Not at all."

"Getting straight to it—how long’ll it take to fix the thirty-first unit’s frame?"

"Head mechanic says at least a month."

"Figured as much."

Normally, if an arm or head or leg breaks, you just swap it out with a spare—those are prepped in advance. But this time, it’s the front armor and monitor over the cockpit that got wrecked.

Armunale parts are all custom-made by master craftsmen. And unless it’s something we know we’ll need right away, most of them aren’t even built yet.

So if we’re talking about building a whole new monitor from scratch, it’s gonna take a good long while.

And on top of that, we’ve got a whole mess of machines—some destroyed, some newly acquired—so there’s a flood of new orders coming in. Right now the craftsmen are working flat-out, but still, parts are hard to come by.

The thirty-first unit’s already in shape—just needs the monitor fixed—and can be sent straight to the front, so they’re giving that priority. Still, they’re saying it’ll take quite some time.

“Then I’ll give Eld and Ange a long break—three weeks starting day after tomorrow.”

“A long break?”

“That’s right. Normally, we send the new recruits to guard the buffer zone once their training’s done—but your schedule got delayed because of the imperial invasion. Plenty of kids leave home to join the academy, and once they’re in the military, long breaks back home are rare. Even knights can’t just vanish for weeks. So we’re telling them: make sure you see your families while you’re still new.”

“Ah, so it’s also to calm the nerves?”

“Good, you catch on fast.”

Most new recruits, once they finish their buffer zone duty, have killed someone at least once.

It’s not such a big deal when you’re busy—your mind’s too scattered to dwell on it. But once you get back to Jakarta or Fortran, and the dust settles… that’s when the guilt hits hard. Like it swallows you whole.

In my case, well… I’ve killed so many I’ve gone numb to it. Still, when I remember, my hands shake a little. I still dream about the first time I took a life.

Maybe only family can heal that.

Having family there—makes it okay to kill enemies. Gives you proof you were protecting someone. That’s probably what we’re doing for the new recruits, keeping their hearts from breaking.

“Ange, you’ll be fine with that schedule?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“When you head back, submit a long-term absence request. You can get the forms at the front desk—just pick them up when you’re leaving.”

“Understood.”

“And Eld—there’s a rumor going around. How much of it’s true? I’ve heard you shot down over ten enemy units.”

“Only four I personally destroyed. And one captured.”

"Is that so? Then the medal’s definitely coming your way. Have you got the ceremonial uniform ready?"

That’s what the deputy commander in Jakarta said, too.

"Yes, the order’s already placed. Should be done by the time the leave ends."

"Ah. Probably about a month from now, you and Bodwan will be summoned to the capital for the medal ceremony."

"Will the captain be coming too?"

I’d heard for sure I’d get it—but never thought the captain would be getting one as well.

"Bodwan took down one Armunale before. This time, two more. That’s three total. That’s well within the Lion Medal’s criteria. Heard he’s even getting out of the machine, so the handover ceremony’ll happen there too."

A handover ceremony—that’s just the official moment when the king formally recognizes the captain’s successor.

Armunale’s technically the kingdom’s—bigger still, His Majesty’s—so we knights are just borrowing the thing from the king.

That means we can’t just hand it over to anyone we please.

Sure, in practice, sometimes the team leader and me’ll pass it on right there on the spot, on the spot, but officially, we’ve got to do the paperwork and hold the ceremony, too.

“Got it. Do I need to prepare anything special?”

“Nothing but clothes. The ceremony’s just routine—won’t take long. You won’t even speak directly to the king, so no need to get all wound up.”

“Then I’m relieved.”

Even if it were the captain, a noble like Bodwan, I’d still be sweating—me, a commoner, talking face-to-face with the king? No way.

“Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“Nothing at all.”

“I’m fine too.”

“Then let’s call it a day. You’ve done well.”

The commander stood up with those words and returned to his desk. No time even for a breath—really, what a burden.

We stepped out of the command room and let out a long, relieved sigh.

Still, meeting someone above you always gets the nerves going. Even if they’re the calmest sort, there’s just something about their presence that makes you feel small.

Ange seemed to feel the same—after letting out a breath, she looked at me and smiled faintly.

“We’re going home.”

“Yeah, ended up heading back before I even finished writing that letter.”

“Hope the old men give you a scolding.”

“Now that you mention it… I’m starting to not want to go back at all…”

“Karma’s a b—uh, no, you brought it on yourself. Come on, hurry up and get the long-term absence forms from reception.”

Ange skipped down the stairs, cheerful as ever.

I’d known it was coming for ages, and mentally prepared—being grown-up enough to not mind being away from my parents. But Ange, she’d still been clinging to the idea of home, that much was clear.

And yet… she’d come after me, holding it all in, just to stay by my side.

I should probably tell her how I feel—soon. And the best place to do it? Well, it’s still there, isn’t it.

So here we were, Ange and me, each carrying our own quiet weight, heading back to the village where we’d both been born—just for a little while.