I knew what it was: It was an IS.
That abbreviation stood for “Infinite Stratos,” a sort of transforming exoskeleton that had been developed with outer space in mind. The designers didn’t get their wish, and instead this high-performance piece of engineering was used as a weapon, and eventually, in sports. It was a flying, powered exoskeleton. Sadly, the IS technology had a critical flaw, which meant that I had no interest in it.
“Men can’t use it, huh...”
Yes. Only women could use it. The suits didn’t respond to anyone except girls. The armor in front of me was all but useless to me. I couldn’t do anything with it. Nothing at all.
I touched it.
“......?!”
Immediately, a metallic sound rang through my mind.
The next moment, a wave of information flooded directly into my mind. Basic IS movement instructions I hadn’t even heard of: guides, specs, abilities, current loadout, remaining power supply, action radius, sensor accuracy, radar response, remaining armor, power output... Suddenly I understood everything, as if I had trained with it for years and years. Its sensors were linked to my visual cortex, transmitting the information into my eye and representing the world around me with numbers and values.
“Wh-What the...”
It moved. The IS damn well moved. It felt like moving my own hands and legs.
I felt something spread over me like my own skin... The skin barrier had opened.
A sense of weightlessness in my body... The thrusters were operational.
I felt a weight in my right hand. The close-combat blade materialized in a blaze of light.
My perception was heightened, clear... The hypersensors had optimized.
I understood all of this information. I’d never learned any of it, but I understood. And the world as the IS relayed it to me looked like...
“.........”
—Um... Where was I, again?
It was the day of the entrance ceremony, and I was now in high school, first year. I was in the middle of my introduction. In front of me were 29 girls. Behind me was Ms. Yamada, probably on the verge of tears. By the way, her name, “Ya-ma-da-Ma-ya,” could be read front to back or back to front in Japanese. It was a good name. Easy to remember. I digress.
I still hadn’t finished my introduction, it seemed. All the girls were looking at me with eyes that demanded more information. Wasn’t Houki going to help me on account of being childhood friends? No, she looked away again. The cold broad. Was this our beautiful reunion? I guess it really wasn’t.
—No, no. If I don’t talk now, they’ll brand me a gloomy dude.
I took a deep breath. And another. And then I opened my mouth.
“That is all.”
Ta-da! The girls were disappointed. What were they expecting? Crazy girls...
“U-Um...” spoke someone behind me; her voice was twice as teary now.
—Huh? What? That hadn’t been enough?
Bam! Someone hit me on the head.
“Ouch...”
Pain, that spinal reflex, reminded me of something. That hit... The power, the angle, the swiftness... Everything reminded me painfully of someone I knew.
“.........”
Slowly I turned around and saw a fit, tall woman in a black suit and skirt. Her arms were crossed, and she had a glare very reminiscent of a wolf’s.
“Whoa! It’s Guan Yu!”
Bam! Another hit.
It really hurt, by the way. It was a loud and audible smack, and all the girls jumped back a little.
“There’s no hero from the three kingdoms here, you idiot.”
Her voice was low. There was an imaginary gong thundering in my mind.
✦ ✦ ✦
—No, no. Wait, wait, wait.
What was Chifuyu doing there? She was away for work except for maybe one or two days each month.
“Oh, Ms. Orimura. Is the meeting already over?”
“Yes, Yamada. Sorry that you had to greet the class,” she replied, tenderly.
Wow, she never talked that kindly with me.
—Whatever happened to General Guan Yu? Had he ridden off on Red Hare to Liu Bei?
“D-Don’t worry, I’m the vice homeroom teacher. I can do this!”
Her teary voice had disappeared, and vice homeroom teacher Yamada Maya was looking at the homeroom teacher warmly. She was blushing.
“Everyone, my name is Orimura Chifuyu. It’s my job to turn you greenhorns into useful pilots in a year. Listen to what I say, and remember it. If you can’t do something, I’ll help you until you can. My job is training you from the age of fifteen to sixteen. Hate me all you want, but listen to what I say. Got it?”
Things had gotten a lot more complicated. Yes, it was undoubtedly my sister Orimura Chifuyu. I expected gasps of fear in the classroom, but instead I got shrill cries of happiness.
“Kyaa! Chifuyu! It’s really Chifuyu!”
“I’m a long-time fan of yours!”
“I enrolled here because of you! I came all the way from Kita-Kyuushuu!”
—Who cares even if you’re from southern Hokkaido?
“I’m so happy you’ll be giving me orders, Chifuyu!”
“I’ll die for you!”
“Every year we get all these fools. It’s impressive, really. Or are they assigning me all the fools?” said Chifuyu, while giving the ecstatic girls an annoyed look.
She wasn’t acting. She really was uncomfortable.
—Chifuyu, my sister... You can’t buy popularity. Be nicer to them...
But I was wrong. More wrong than the people who thought the Earth was flat ages ago— although they thought it was round in the Middle Ages. More wrong than the guys who wanted to fly on wings of feathers and wax— which was just stupid, honestly. More wrong than someone trying to cross the Atlantic in a raft... Actually, I guess someone did that. Anyway...
“Hahh! Chifuyu! Scold me! Abuse me!”
“But be nice sometimes!”
“Discipline me so I don’t get spoiled!”
I was glad that all my classmates were so energetic. Well, I was also confused that my sister Chifuyu was my homeroom teacher... Or I would have been, but all the constant screeching of the girls had calmed me down. There is something about seeing someone’s outrageously emotional reaction which lets us work more rationally than before; I realized the truth of that first-hand.
“So? Are you going to introduce yourself properly?”
The edge in her voice... Edge, as in the sense of strictness. That was how she spoke with me.
“But, Sister, I—”
Bam! The third strike of the day.
—Did you know, Chifuyu? About 5,000 brain cells die when you hit someone on the head.
“That’s Ms. Orimura to you.”
“Yes... Ms. Orimura.”
That exchange did not bode well. Now the class knew that I was her brother.
“Really? That guy is her brother?”
“Do you think that has something to do with him being the only man in the world who can pilot an IS?”
“Ahh, that must be nice... I wish I could be him...”
Let’s ignore the last girl. I need to get something out of the way. I was in the IS Academy, being the only man in the world who could use the IS.
The IS Academy... is to teach its students how to pilot the IS, with funding and management provided by the Japanese government. Due to all research being shared with all treaty nations, the Japanese government is to refrain from maintaining a veil of secrecy. Additionally, any and all related controversies are to be solved by the Japanese government to the satisfaction of the treaty nations. Furthermore, any and all prospective students from a treaty nation are to be allowed enrollment to the academy, unconditionally, and provided housing by the Japanese government. —IS Operations Treaty, Section: IS Pilot Educational Institution (Excerpt)
That was the kind of school it was. The long and short of it was basically: “The world’s gone crazy ’cause of the IS you stupid Japanese built, so you better make a school and train our people there. Oh, and hand over the tech. The bill is yours. Bye.” That country that starts with “A” is basically the mafia.
As for “why” I ended up at the IS Academy, well, I managed to control the test unit they were using to review prospective students... But the question of “how” I even ended up there in the first place... Well, Aietsu and IS sound pretty similar, right? Let’s leave it at that.
“.........”
I felt a cold glare from the chaotic classroom. I looked around; Houki had turned back from looking out the window and was staring at me.
—Why is she so angry now? What did I do?
I decided I’d ask her later.
The bell rang.
“Okay, the short homeroom is over. You’ll have to learn all the IS fundamentals in half a month. After that, training begins. Basic movements will take you another two weeks. Got that? Sound off if you do, and even if you don’t. I want to hear you.”
Wow, what a tyrannical teacher. She was a demon in my sister’s skin. No, a demon would have been more flexible; they’re not human, after all. The human in front of me was so nasty because she had an idea of the limitations of human beings. You see, Orimura Chifuyu was the former Japanese first-gen IS pilot. She was unbeaten in official competitions. One day, she retired and disappeared— or rather, she became a teacher, which she apparently hid from even me, her family. I shouldn’t have worried about her.
“Sit down, fool.”
—Okay, the fool will sit.