“God, what a battle…”
“I’m surprised we made it through alive…”
They had, after all, just experienced both that chaotic excuse for a retreat and days of fighting in a state of confusion, with platoons, battalions, and armored divisions mixed together.
Claude, who nodded at Suiu from the 4th Armored Division, was seated next to Saki, who looked exhausted. They had no idea why the two of them were together, given they were in different battalions, or how they ended up mixed in with the 4th Armored Division.
Looking around the beaten pillbox in the combat-worn forest, they unwillingly noticed the ones in the corner.
“…There’s still Republic people here.”
“We’ve been fighting for days; why haven’t they run yet…?”
Republic refugees were huddled together in the corner, admittedly trying not to get in anyone’s way. They’d been in the middle of evacuation when the front lines fell apart, and they got caught up in the fighting. They somehow managed to get to Rüstkammer’s defensive line, then were recovered and sent into trenches or pillboxes so as to not cause any trouble by loitering about. With all the bullets and shell fragments flying around, many of them couldn’t move deeper into the defensive line.
Up until today, they’d been told to simply remain put and stay out of everyone’s way. Still, it was only a temporary ad hoc solution, and noncombatants couldn’t be left in a frontline base or its trenches.
“The transport staff should arrive to deliver supplies soon, so we can ask them to take those people back.”
“They won’t like it, though. Not that we should care.”
All that talk about new self-propelled mines or suicide-bombing viruses, and the Republic all being traitors. As Claude pondered how they were going to handle them going forward with those ideas, Suiu smoothly got to her feet.
“If the transport staff is coming to collect them, we should probably round everyone up. Bring the ones in the trenches over.”
“Think you can do that? A captain like you is going to have places to be after this, right?”
“It’s cool, er…Claude, was it? You’d rather not talk yourself into trouble while you’re tired as it is, right?”
The fatigue had made him lose his temper in the middle of battle and throw away his glasses, meaning his argent eyes were now exposed. Suiu spoke while sneaking a glance at his eyes. She then shrugged, as if to say there was no choice.
“I am a captain, after all. Leave it to me.”
But regardless, despite her being an Eighty-Six tempered by the battlefield, she was still smaller than a boy like Claude—or compared with Saki, her limbs were petite, and her shoulders were slender. Claude and Saki exchanged a confused look.
“…We just said a captain would have other places to be.”
“And if we just said yes and dropped everything on you, our position would look bad.”
“So with that said…you can leave all the dirty work to us, milady.”
Claude offered his hand in an exaggerated manner, which made Suiu break out in laughter. It felt like the first time in a while that they joked around.
—If you don’t smile, you lose, after all.
Kurena said that once, and Claude thought this rang true. So he was going to laugh, even if he had to fake and force it. He wasn’t going to lose hope, weep, and lament anymore.
He must have looked really funny, because Suiu held her stomach, laughing. She nodded, wiping tears of laughter with a fingertip.
“Wow, that was so dashing, I almost fell for you… All right, I’ll be counting on you, my knights.”
“—You could have called us your Prince Charmings,” Saki said earnestly.
Suiu laughed again.
✦ ✦ ✦
Rito turned around in surprise, spotting a flash of long black hair out of the corner of his eye.
Milan’s optical sensor followed his gaze, noticing the figure of a girl walking away. Her curly hair flowed down her slender back, and she wore a pair of sturdy boots that were too big for her lanky ankles. Her long hair flowed in the snowy wind as she approached a group of Republic citizens.
Even a girl wouldn’t be that thin after living on the battlefield for as long as an Eighty-Six. And she wasn’t a Wulfsrin girl, either; the Vargus had a bulky skeleton and stature, owing to generations of being soldiers. All the people from the nearby towns had long since evacuated, and since she had black hair, she couldn’t have been a Republic citizen, given they’d expelled anyone who wasn’t Alba.
Which meant she must have been—
He switched on the external speaker and hurriedly called out.
“…You!”
The girl’s gaze alone turned to look at him. Languid, listless blue eyes.
“You’re Actaeon, aren’t you?”
He should have upped the speaker’s volume, so he could warn the Republic people. But he kept it low, like he was scared of them finding out.
The girl came to a realization and smiled at him.
“Oh, you’re Eighty-Six, aren’t you? From the Strike Package.”
Just like me—Eighty-Six.
Different from me—Strike Package.
“Good. I’m glad you get to live on.”
Unlike us, who are going to die. Fated to die, no matter what.
“…!”
“That’s good. So… Please. Just let me do this.”
She smiled. Her blue eyes, so exhausted and resigned, had a twinge of lament to them. She implored him with the empty, mirthless gaze of a witch, even her tired hatred ground to nothing from persecution and fleeing.
“Just say you didn’t see me. Pretend you didn’t notice me. At least let me have—my revenge.”
Revenge against the Republic, which made me into an Actaeon.
Rito gritted his teeth.
✦ ✦ ✦
“—I can’t.”
✦ ✦ ✦
He opened the canopy. He didn’t think those words should have been said through a speaker, with his face hidden in his unit.
“I can’t. I don’t want to let you become a killer. Even if this is revenge and you want this, I don’t want you to kill people.”
Like Lieutenant Aldrecht, who became a Shepherd to take revenge; like his ghost, which went around slaughtering the Republic’s people. He’d turned into a murder machine to avenge his wife and daughter and, despite that, froze up at the very end because he never forgot his daughter’s visage.
Rito had no way of knowing what Aldrecht had fought at the very end. Was it grief? Regret? Emptiness? If nothing else, he wasn’t satisfied. He’d discarded his humanity, the peace of death, the hope of going to meet his wife and daughter—but what he gained at the end of it all wasn’t fulfillment and satisfaction.
And he didn’t want that to happen to this girl. He didn’t want her to die with only regret and emptiness and sorrow crossing her mind.
“You’re Eighty-Six, just like me, so I…don’t want you to experience this sorrow.”
The girl’s mouth hung open, and she blinked once, then twice. And then she smiled, as if to say she had to comply. It was their first meeting, but seeing a boy, younger than her, wave her down like they were old comrades caused her to smile at him like an older sister hearing her younger brother make an excuse.
“In that case, stop me from killing them. There’s no time left.”