34. Captain's Private Residence 2

I’ve just returned to my Office after concluding an emergency meeting to discuss the eradication of Zeno. Only Ain is present in the Office.

“Captain, you look exhausted. Shall I brew you some coffee?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Fwew.”

I blow on the hot coffee in my mug, staring blankly into the steam.

My body feels fine—just mentally drained. Zeno… If I hadn’t come to Agirakana, Earth would’ve turned into a luminous sphere like Epsilon Ia, probably decades from now. If I’d still been alive then, I doubt I’d even have noticed.

Lost in thought, sipping coffee, the avatar of Core—Maria, who’d split from us in the conference room—arrives in the Office.

“You seem quite worn out, Commander.”

“It was my first operational briefing. Naturally, I was tense.”

"You'll get used to it, in time."

"I don't particularly want to get used to seeing Zeno so often."

"I agree, but it's out of our hands—depends entirely on the other party. If this operation proves the effectiveness of decoy vessels, we'll expand the fleet alongside our antimatter reserves. Even with Agirakana's production capacity, building hulls and manufacturing antimatter takes time. We should have about twelve decoy vessels ready by the next operation. Logistics will handle the coordination—don't worry. No amount of impatience from the Chief of Staff will speed things up. Let's just keep at it steadily."

"Captain, let's put off work talk for now. Maria's here, and you haven't visited your Private Residence since it was completed, have you?"

"That's right. It's been quite a while—probably the tatami mats have faded a bit by now."

"The tatami mats were recently re-covered, so the rush of straw scent should still linger in the blue tatami."

"Going to all this trouble for something you've never even used—how thoughtful. How about you join us, Maria? This will be your first time seeing a traditional Japanese room, won't it?"

"There's also an open-air hot spring bath in the captain's Private Residence—why don't you come bathe with us, Maria?"

"I suppose I'm curious too. Is there anything I need to bring along?"

"Most essentials are already here—anything missing can be delivered by drone. Dinner will be served from the on-site kitchen, prepared in traditional Japanese style. You'll get the full experience of a countryside hot spring inn."

"That sounds delightful." "I'm looking forward to it."

"Ain, we'll change into casual clothes. Maria, please wait a moment."

Stepping out from the transfer room into the First Layer destination, the scene unfolded as a pavilion-style structure, at first glance. A gently sloping stone path led up the hillside. On either side of the path, handrails were installed; behind them, neatly trimmed shrubs—likely camellias or tsubaki—formed a hedge at shoulder height.

Atop the hill, reached by climbing the path, stood a large traditional Japanese-style house enclosed by a stone wall built from sizable rocks. A quintessential hot spring inn. Within the wall’s perimeter, several trees—possibly cherry blossoms—were planted. Though young and still sparse in branch development, they bore delicate, pale pink blooms verging on white. Judging by their appearance, the garden trees were likely Somei Yoshino.

The sliding door creaked open as it was pushed inward, leading into the building’s entrance hall. Beyond the earthen floor stood a threshold, and just past that, a neatly polished wooden corridor rose another step—complete with a pair of slippers neatly arranged, as if awaiting guests.

“Shall I give you a tour of the house, Captain?”

“No, not now. This is already a hot spring inn. I just want to get in the bath and feel clean.”

“The men’s bath is on the right at the end of the hall, the women’s on the left.”

“Huh. I knew you’d built this place as a captain’s residence, but I had no idea what it was like inside. Nice. I’ll be dropping by more often from now on.”

“Whenever you like, Maria, you’re welcome to use it.”

“Thank you. I’ll take you up on that. Ain, let’s head straight to the bath.”

As they removed their shoes and slipped on the slippers, walking down the corridor,

"Captain, dinner will be served in this reception room. Please come after you've finished bathing."

Pulling open the sliding door at the entrance, they found a traditional Japanese room with a pleasant, grassy aroma, the floor covered in light blue tatami mats, and a large low table placed in the center.

"Understood."

Turning right at the end of the corridor, where they parted ways with the others, they saw a white kanji sign reading "Otono Yu♨" on a deep blue curtain hung straight ahead. Passing under the curtain, they entered the changing area. Inside a basket set out on the floor, a stiffened yukata and a robe were neatly folded.

The bathhouse was a large stone tub made to resemble tachibana stone, spacious enough for about ten people to fit. In front, a transparent panel—appearing like glass—divided the space. The barrier remained perfectly clear, unclouded by steam, allowing a view through to the other side. Beyond the partition, the area resembled an open-air rock bath, with hot water cascading down from a high point in one corner. Adjacent to the bathhouse was a sauna, and beside the sauna’s entrance stood a cold plunge pool. It was, quite literally, a traditional hot spring inn.

After a light rinse, he stood under the falling water of the open-air bath, letting it hit his shoulders. It felt wonderfully soothing. His shoulders, tense and stiff from nervousness, seemed to finally relax. At the far end of the rock bath, the landscape transitioned into a miniature Japanese garden, complete with stone landscaping and pine trees, and a small pond came into view.

Returning to the bathhouse, he washed his hair, then settled into the tub up to his shoulders, letting his mind go blank as usual. Soon, the woman in the adjacent women’s bath seemed to grow increasingly restless.

He returned to the changing room, donned the new undergarments prepared for him, then slipped on the yukata. As he reached to unfold the indigo-colored robe laid neatly folded, he noticed the word 'Agirakana' dyed vertically in white along both collar edges. The Secretary's Office crew—quite the little touch, aren't they?

Once dressed, he returned to the tatami room. The low table was already piled high with an overwhelming array of traditional Japanese dishes, nearly overflowing. To the side, four or five large bottles of beer stood upright on a tray, their surfaces beaded with condensation. Seven floor cushions—three on one side, four on the other—were arranged around the table. A banquet, perhaps? Or is someone else expected to arrive?

He couldn’t tell which seat was the honored one, and since this was his own Private Residence, he figured it was safe enough to settle somewhere near the center.

Sitting still in front of the meal for a while, the corridor began to grow noisy. The sliding door suddenly slid open, and a procession of six women in yukata and obi robes filed into the room.

"Everyone’s here, then."

"Welcome, welcome."

"Captain, we’re intruding—"

The five attendees from the earlier meeting and Major Eris, commander of the ground assault division, entered the room. All appeared to be wearing light makeup.

Ain sat to my left, Maria to my right. Opposite us were the four officers—seated as arranged.

The four officers, who usually looked in their forties with no makeup, appeared to be in their early thirties with it. Apparently, there was no tradition of makeup among Bio-Androids, but Ain and the others had apparently started a trend.

"Cheers!"

Seven of us downed our glasses of beer in one gulp. Japanese customs had clearly taken root.

"Pffft—"

Delicious. Everyone’s got beer mustaches. Laughter comes naturally. Is it 'I’m happy' or 'I’m at peace'?

From then on, it was truly a feast. No performance, but we talked about everything. When the beer ran out, Ain immediately stood up and brought back a chilled bottle of Japanese sake.

“…The captain seems to have been tired, but it’s reassuring to see energy returning. Unlike Arsenians or Earthlings, we bio-noids experience almost no mental stress under normal circumstances. We only feel intense stress when fulfilling our duties becomes difficult—or impossible. Therefore, carrying out our assigned duties is what brings us joy.”

I’m not one to talk, but this would be the kind of employee a black-market CEO would drool over. Is that really okay? Watching the six of them skillfully eat Japanese food with chopsticks, I inexplicably felt my tension ease.