“Kiyoka.”
“…Mr. Koumyouin.”
“What the hell is with that look?”
“I mean…I could say the same for you.”
Kiyoka just barely managed to give his usual sort of reply.
Ever since the battle, Kiyoka’s facial muscles had stopped moving entirely, and while he had never been very talkative to begin with, he was now barely able to get any words out.
His guilt toward Itsuto, Koumyouin, the Godous, and the other unit members who were left behind had won out, and it had taken everything left in him to apologize to Yoshito.
“It ain’t your fault.”
“No. It was my fault, I should’ve…gone with you from the start. I should’ve agreed to fight the Earth Spider right away.”
“That just wasn’t gonna happen.”
“No… There must have been a way.”
He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists.
Itsuto had asked Kiyoka unambiguously to come along with them and take out the Earth Spider.
But Kiyoka had pouted like an immature child and stubbornly refused the invitation. Because of that, they all got hurt and lost their lives. If only Kiyoka had been there, then perhaps they would have been able to kill the Earth Spider without so many casualties.
If this wasn’t his fault, then whose was it?
“But the commander’s the one who pushed you away in the first place. He’s the one who told you to focus on your dreams instead of the role you’re meant to fill.”
“Dreams!” Kiyoka shouted, almost cutting off Koumyouin as the man tried to reason with him. “Letting myself get distracted by that saccharine nonsense is how everything ended up like this!”
“…Kiyoka.”
There was a sorrowful tremor in Koumyouin’s eyes as he looked at Kiyoka.
“The day before we went to that mountain, I talked with the commander. I asked him why he took you off the mission.”
“…”
“The commander still didn’t give a straight answer. However…” The pallid Koumyouin gently closed his eyes. “You’re powerful. The strongest Gift-user of the current age. You have that much power in you. And that was why…he wanted you to recognize for yourself the duty and responsibility that comes with so much power. The commander didn’t want you to just follow the course laid out to you from birth, but for you to find the resolve to choose your future for yourself.”
Ah, that was it. Kiyoka had realized it all.
A tranquil life as an ordinary young man, or a life of constant battle as a Gift-user. With both options before him, Kiyoka should have immediately chosen the latter. That was the truth of it.
Itsuto had lost his life because Kiyoka hadn’t been able to do that—because Kiyoka had been indecisive. Kiyoka hadn’t been able to live up to Itsuto’s expectations.
I got carried away with the chance to experience my own dreams, something idealistic and pure like that.
To steadfastly choose his role as a Gift-user even when something as alluring as a dream—fleeting, beautiful, and radiant like the first evening star—was dangled in front of his eyes. He needed to have that resolve.
Itsuto had waited for Kiyoka to abandon his dreams and opt to walk down the path of bloodshed.
Kiyoka couldn’t help but ridicule himself.
Unable to realize something so simple while trampling all over the man’s expectations, he must have looked quite foolish to Itsuto,
He could excuse himself by saying he was immature. However, that immaturity had made him lose something irreplaceable.
“I…I was fool. Entirely unable to realize Mr. Godou’s intentions.”
Powerful? Stronger than anyone? If he neglected to use that power when it mattered most, then none of it meant anything.
He’d been wrong to have thought his mind was made up.
If he was powerful, then he could never afford to be half-hearted. Fulfilling both roles at once? How entitled of him. What could he even hope to accomplish by merely wielding the strength he held on the side in his spare time? He couldn’t claim that he had made up his mind.
“It’s too late,” he said. “Realizing it all now means nothing.”
“Kiyoka?”
Koumyouin’s voice faltered with unease. Kiyoka paid no mind to him and turned on his heel.
He wouldn’t accomplish anything by just standing here, dumbfounded, lamenting his failure and loss. As long as he lingered, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t end up being too late in some other way once more. From this point forward, he would never throw himself into battle while wasting his time on something else. Never again would he forgive himself.
“I’m leaving… I won’t waver again.”
Kiyoka had tried to smile a bit at Koumyouin to give him peace of mind. However, Koumyouin closed his eyes and twisted his face, as if he had just laid eyes on a monster.
Never again would he make the same mistake. He was no longer a boy, no longer a mentee, but a man. One who wouldn’t hesitate. Wouldn’t vacillate.
As someone with power, he would place himself in battle. Any other path presented to him was just a distraction.
Kiyoka left the funeral hall without looking back.
The terrible stretch of autumn weather, as if nothing but a dream, had given way to a bright blue sky. Even if he gazed up at it, however, he would feel nothing but regret in his chest, not the slightest bit of reprieve.
The moaning of the rain on the day of Itsuto’s death still echoed in Kiyoka’s ears.
That’s fine.
It would ensure he would never forget how he felt at this moment: unbearably angry and disappointed at his old self.
The rains of the past rapidly faded into the distance.
He was pulled back into the present by the steamy aroma floating up from his coffee cup.
Across from Kiyoka, Koumyouin, too, looked as though he had left his soul somewhere in the past.
“Never mind actually, I take back what I said,” Koumyouin suddenly murmured.
“Take back what?”
As far as Kiyoka was concerned, Koumyouin had plenty of indelicate or inconsiderate comments he needed to take back. Which one was he referring to exactly?
He blinked in genuine confusion, and Koumyouin scratched his cheek awkwardly.
“When I said you never really change.”
“Oh, that one.”
“…Don’t make it sound like there was a buncha options to choose from.”
“Well, there were.”
Stone-faced, Kiyoka brought his coffee cup to his lips.
The coffee that slipped down his throat was slightly tepid yet still delicious and aromatic. They must have used good beans and brewed it meticulously.
He would have liked to replicate it himself, but he wondered what Miyo would say to him if he began to get obsessive about coffee at home after leaving the military.
“You’ve changed. I didn’t really think that when you became commander, but now that you’re hitched? Yeah, you’ve changed all right.”
“…I’m still the same as I’ve always been.”
“Nah, you’re different. You don’t get the sorta face you wore back at Commander Godou’s funeral, do you?”
Kiyoka had no way of verifying what his own face looked like. When he remained silent, pretending not to know what Koumyouin meant, the man continued.
“Up until I saw you the other day, you always had this tense, strained look on your face. Like a string or thread wound up tight enough to snap at any moment… Part of that’s my fault, huh? I’ve wanted to apologize to you for a while.”
Kiyoka had an idea of what Koumyouin was trying to say.