Chapter 7

“…Still acting like this is someone else’s problem, I see. Do you have any idea just how grave your actions last night were?” “Grave?” “Quite. Surely even you must have realized how unprecedented it was.” Having it pointed out so plainly, Rusalka didn’t have an answer for her. In truth, she had reported to the general immediately after she had been released, fully expecting a dishonorable discharge. She had apologized for what had happened last night and waited for his verdict. But to her surprise, her sentence had only been to provide a written explanation and a formal apology. Put bluntly, it was a punishment so lenient it might as well have been an acquittal, and it would almost certainly earn cynical comments about how Valkyries were afforded special treatment. Even Rusalka herself felt she was receiving special treatment. As Rusalka fell silent, Natalie crossed her arms and sighed. “You are in a complicated position to begin with. But even so, the problems you cause do not merely affect you. Even if you cannot fly anymore, you are still…” “…I’m not a Valkyrie any—” “I’m well aware of that!” Before she could finish, another thunderous shout suddenly split the air of the mess hall. Half a second later, Natalie covered her mouth with her hand, as if she had not intended to shout. There was an awkward tension as— “…You’re too loud, Natalie.” Alma glared at Natalie in annoyance as she covered her ears. Natalie lowered her hand. “…Please do not make me repeat myself anymore, Alma. You shouldn’t fraternize with her so much. It sets a bad example.” “Example? You want me to go along with everyone else? Why?” “Why must you be so unreasonable…?” Natalie’s lips sank into a frown as Alma cocked her head in confusion. It looked like things might explode between them at that rate, but having flightmates wear at each other’s nerves like that served no one. “Natalie is correct, Alma. She is just being a good friend.” Cleaning up the remnants of her lunch, Rusalka picked up her plate and stood to leave. Alma seemed displeased as she looked at Rusalka. “You’re my friend, too.” “” Rusalka couldn’t say anything in response. Her expression remained unchanged as well. She just silently nodded and turned to Natalie. “Natalie, I truly regret what happened and am seriously reflecting on how it happened. I will not let something like it happen again.” “Of course. It should never have happened in the first place even. However…” “However?” “You still refuse to say anything in your own defense.” Rusalka’s eyes widened as Natalie crossed her arms and glared, seemingly annoyed at Rusalka’s response. She was a proud girl. Even when dealing with someone who was entirely in the wrong, she would grant the accused an opportunity to explain themselves. But Rusalka merely shook her head. “This is just the natural conclusion.” “—Argh. That’s not what I meant at all…” Natalie’s voice grew slightly ragged as Rusalka responded while averting her sky-blue eyes. But after the angry outburst just moments earlier, she soon closed her mouth. Rusalka quickly took her leave and went to return her plate and silverware. “” Looking around, it was plain to see that the three of them had made a scene. Rusalka had become even more infamous since the morning, and she was determined not to get the two of them caught up in any nasty rumors. “It would be nice if I could just blame it on the alcohol, but…” Even if she couldn’t remember what had happened because of the alcohol, her trip to the stockade could hardly be chalked up to the same weak excuse. The main issue was probably her inability to find anyone else to blame for her guilt. And with that thought, she walked out of the mess hall by herself. There was one person who watched her leave before heaving a long, heavy sigh. “…Why must you always look like you’ve given up on everything…?” After making that wistful observation, Natalie sat down where Rusalka had just been moments ago. Her hand touched the seat, feeling the warmth Rusalka had left. “Pervert…” Natalie glared at Alma’s blunt comment. It turned out she had more to say. “You know… You should stop furrowing your brow like that. Your personality shows on your face.” “Where did you hear that?” “It’s just a saying you can hear anywhere.” “Hmph… Whatever…” Natalie avoided Alma’s gaze, looking down through the long eyelashes that rimmed her eyes. Her intense lightning-bolt-like aura slowly faded. And without that dazzling thunder, all that remained was a young woman. “…Why does she insist on never saying anything…?” “You’re annoying, Natalie, so can you go somewhere else?” “How rude.” Natalie’s expression softened as she propped her head up at Alma’s blunt appraisal. Meanwhile, Alma quietly went about eating the remainder of her lunch, which was starting to get cold. 7 After leaving Alma and Natalie, Rusalka wandered aimlessly around the base. She couldn’t find any place where she could calm down. Her always overly serious demeanor had long troubled her, and it meant that in a situation like her current one, she did not know how best to make use of her time. “I was already a burden, but…” She was fed up with the awkwardness of so many gazes she could feel in the distance. Word of her scandal last night had spread all through the base. She had no way to know how exaggerated the rumors had become, but if she had to hazard a guess, she was probably becoming known as the former Valkyrie who picked a fight with civilians and didn’t get any kind of punishment for it. “The worst possible rumor I can imagine…” There had surely never been a Valkyrie with such a notorious reputation. At the very least, Rusalka could not remember anyone who came even remotely close, and she was the second-generation Valkyrie who had served the longest in the army. It was possible the army was in the process of covering up her scandal. Not that that would make her feel any better, though. Being thrown in the stockade for a night, a written apology, and two days of discipline. That was the extent of her punishment, but it was probably just a measure to avoid letting this develop into a major disturbance. Ultimately, she wouldn’t be welcome at her post, but she couldn’t bring herself to stay hidden away in her room, either, so she was wandering around the base— “” She caught her breath when she realized where she had walked without thinking. “The hangar…” The maintenance crews in jumpsuits were rushing all around, getting things in order. The pilots had gotten a brief respite after the fighting ended, but it was clear from the maintenance crews’ ghastly looks that they had been working through the night to make sure the main force the army could wield against the pillars—the Valkyries’ Deus ex Machinas—would be ready to be on station again as soon as possible. The Deus ex Machinas were essentially sacred relics granted by God. But they required the same maintenance as the models of plane they were based off, which meant they needed a lot of work hours in order to continue operating at peak performance. And battles in the sky were not fought by Valkyries alone. For them to fully realize their potential, they needed support from other units as well. Having to keep the modern airframes maintained and ready to go as well was why the maintenance crews were constantly laboring around the clock. These technicians were working themselves to the bone to keep things going just so that the wings needed to fly across the battlefield were ready to sortie at a moment’s notice. And it went without saying that Rusalka had no business getting involved here. Even if she was just sitting out of the way, it would only make her and the work crews uncomfortable. She turned to leave— “—Oh, if it isn’t the Broken Valk. Been a while since you showed your face here.” “” —but she was stopped in her tracks by an unexpected, husky voice. Bitterly, Rusalka realized she had tripped up. If she had kept moving, she could have just pretended she hadn’t heard the voice and been on her way. But she had stopped. And the person calling out to her had noticed that moment of indecision. “Hey! Wait, wait, wait! Don’t ignore me! C’mon, get over here.” “Chief Technician Reever…” Brisk, determined footsteps approached Rusalka. Resigned to her fate, she turned and was greeted by a tall, smiling man standing right in front of her. His eyes were brimming with curiosity and anticipation. “I heard! You got into a royal mess down at a pub in the city, right? Ha-ha-ha, not too shabby.” “Yes, I well and truly botched things.” “Oh? It looks like you’re taking it harder than I would’ve thought.” The man who put his hands to his cheeks and wriggled his hips as Rusalka’s shoulders slumped was Chief Technician Roger Reever—the head of Hamburg base’s maintenance crews and a grizzled veteran. At almost 190 centimeters tall, he had a slender, well-toned body; bright-brown hair that had been permed; and a pink headband. He had an unusual appearance but was incomparably skilled when it came to maintenance. Rumor had it that if not for him, the base would be able to keep only half as many planes operational as it did, and he was widely considered to be one of the main figures holding things together from the shadows. Rusalka glared at him. “Watch out. If you get too close to me, you might end up getting thrown around, too.” “Ha-ha-ha, looks like you’re really smarting. What’s the big idea, showing me such a cute side of yourself?” Sighing, Roger put a finger to Rusalka’s chin, nudging her face up. And when she did, his long eyelashes fluttered. “Having a bad night with liquor is something that happens to just about everyone as they grow up. What’s it matter if you make a mistake every once in a while? That just means you’re human. Your reactions are usually so alien it can be hard to tell if you’re really human in there.” “I certainly never intended to be so removed from normal behavior that my humanity would be brought into question.” “Ah-ha-ha-ha, good one.” She hadn’t meant it to be a joke, but for some reason that was how it had been received. For the first time, Rusalka realized just how annoying that could be. Noticing Rusalka’s mild irritation building, Roger raised his eyebrows. “Hmm? You seem like you’ve changed a bit.” “Huh?” “It’s not connected at all to what we’ve been talking about, but you’re actually showing a bit of emotion today. That liquor may have been just what the doctor ordered.” “” Rusalka touched her cheek. It didn’t feel like her expression was any softer than usual. And if anything, she felt more depressed than normal. “Or if it wasn’t the liquor, then…maybe it was a guy?” “It was not.” “Oooooh? Shooting the theory down straightaway? Usually, you get up on your high horse before denying it.” Roger’s unseemly smile widened when she reflexively dismissed the possibility. But it was a boorish suspicion. She did not feel aggrieved at his probing. It was such a spectacularly misplaced guess that the events that morning in the stockade did not even cross her mind. “Well, if you’re that insistent, then I suppose I’ll believe you. Aaanyway, the reason I came over here…” “Wh-why did…?” “—Your Spitfire.” The air around Roger changed the instant those words were spoken. Rusalka froze, as if a spell had been cast on her. She gulped. “I’ve kept your Deus ex Machina properly maintained. It’s ready to fly whenever you might need it.” Roger crossed his arms, almost like he was hugging his elbows, as he glanced toward a certain corner of the hangar. She saw a Deus ex Machina waiting quietly there beneath a gray sheet. “” An enormous, conflicted mass of emotion welled inside her. Joy and anger, sadness and guilt. It felt like she had experienced the entire gamut of emotions all at once. At the very least, there was no mistaking that even as emotionless as she was, her feelings were all being called into action. That was just how much that plane meant to her. That Deus ex Machina contained all the feelings and thoughts she had for the sky. “A Deus ex Machina can only show its true potential under the guiding hands of the Valkyrie to whom it was given,” Roger began. “” “Only women can become Valkyries…and only young girls at that. They receive their Deus ex Machina from God, and they just rely on their innate proficiency to figure out the controls. It’s only natural.” Roger was talking about the initial scheme that had been introduced when Valkyries were first born. It had been tested countless times, and there had even been experiments where air force pilots had flown in the Deus ex Machinas Odin had granted the Valkyries. But— “Divine power, huh? Wonder of wonders, only the plane’s chosen Valkyrie can properly wield it,” Roger mused. If a Deus ex Machina was flown by any pilot besides its designated Valkyrie, it would be nothing more than an ancient propeller-driven plane. It was a steadfast rule that applied even when Valkyries exchanged Deus ex Machinas. In other words, there was a single Valkyrie meant for each machine. That was the unwritten rule. “As is, she’s just wasting space in the hanger sitting over there,” Roger said, bringing up Rusalka’s machine again. “…Why are you maintaining her?” “What’s this? Are you perhaps interested in little old me? Sorry, sorry. Just kidding.” Waving off Rusalka stilted question, Roger shifted gears and thought about it for a moment. “I suppose it would sound cooler if I said it was because I believed you would fly again someday, but I can’t say I’m overly confident in seeing that happen.” It was lighthearted, but Roger made it clear that he didn’t have a lot of faith in Rusalka’s return to the skies. She couldn’t help flashing a wry smile at his straightforward response. In his own way, he was being considerate of her. And seeing her smile like that, Roger’s expression softened. “So I suppose the most honest answer is that it’s just habit. There’s a plane there, so I’ll make sure it is maintained. And I’ll make sure it gets repairs. And I’ll make sure it’s ready to fly.” “” “And that’s because I know how to fix planes. But fixing people’s outside my area of expertise.” In one sense, it was a cold response. Rusalka lowered her eyes and bit her lip. I really don’t have any right to be here— “—That was why I was so surprised when I heard about yesterday. Have you maybe managed to recover some?” “Huh…?” Rusalka looked in wonder as the topic somehow managed to make its way back to that. For a second, it felt like static interrupted her thoughts, but she quickly adjusted, which left her wondering if she was being teased again as she met Roger’s smiling eyes. But she couldn’t sense any ill intentions as he stood there calmly. If she just assumed he was good at hiding what he was thinking, there would be no end to her doubts, but… “Why would my scandal last night have any connection with me recovering? If you believe alcohol has that much power, then perhaps you are suffering under the delusions of an alcoholic?” “It’s not very nice to say something so twisted—and after you looked so cute when you were crying.” “Wha—?!” Roger winked as he held a finger to his lips. Before she realized it, Rusalka’s cheeks were burning. What did he mean by that? “…When you say ‘crying,’ are you by any chance using the word the same way I do?” “I’d like to say that’s a pretty awful attempt to dodge the issue, but I guess it was also some really terrible liquor. Anyway, yeah, I mean exactly what you think I mean when I say ‘crying.’ You understand, right?” Roger traced a finger from his eyelid down his cheek as Rusalka froze. He had no reason to lie about something like that out of nowhere. At least, she was mostly sure of that. And Rusalka had noticed the dried tears on her face that morning in the stockade. She had assumed it had been a dream, but— “What did you see last night…?!” She had been forced to conclude that she had gotten into a fight with civilians in a drunk fit based on circumstantial evidence and other people’s testimonies, but that was apparently not all that had happened. Just how much had word of her disgraceful behavior spread around the base? Rusalka stared at her hands as Roger shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I was busy last night, so all I saw was when you were being thrown into the stockade. I didn’t get to see the decisive moment…but I did see you crying.” “W-was I shamefully crying out of fear of the crime I had committed…?” “Well now, what do you think?” Rather than malice, this was his idea of an earnest response. He seemed to be testing her, but really, he didn’t know the answer to her question. In which case, there was only one person she knew who could answer her question. “Pardon me, Chief Reever, but I’ll be going now. I’ve decided where I should visit next.” “Oh yeah? I have more work still, so I won’t stop you…but are you okay?” Rusalka looked up, finally deciding where she should head after wandering aimlessly most of the day. When she heard Roger’s question, she glanced back for just a second. Her eyes darted to her beloved plane, sitting in the corner of the hangar beneath a sheet. “Yes, for the moment at least.” She hesitated for only a split second before she nodded. And then she stood at attention, facing the maintenance chief’s all-knowing gaze, which seemed to see right through her. “For now, I am going to go settle up with my tears from last night.” 8 “—I’m pretty sure the promise was that I would find you. Sheesh, you just don’t understand proper romance.” The door burst open, and Rusalka came to a stop in front of the iron bars as the man grimaced. He was tall, with dirty-blond hair. She hadn’t been able to get a proper look at him that morning, but now she could see that he had deep-blue, almost sapphire-like eyes and a scraggly, unshaved mustache that suited the hint of wildness that touched his smirk. When she finally got a good look at him, it almost felt like she was standing in front of a caged lion. Not because he looked particularly savage, but there was something about his presence that evoked the creature. For some reason, he had that sort of imposing aura about him. “” Rusalka had returned to the stockade in search of answers about last night. And he had apparently not expected her sudden visit, either, because he didn’t have a chance to turn around. Thanks to that, she could finally stand face-to-face with the man who had acted so haughty that morning. And yet… “What is it? You must have wanted something if you bothered coming all the way over here, right? Why not try saying something?” “Is it because you are inside a cage that you look like a lion?” “Wha—? Wait, wait. I told you to say something, but I meant let’s have a conversation. How do you expect me to play catch with you when you come lobbing a bomb like that? Besides, I’m more of a football guy.” The man responded without getting up from his seat on the bed, just looking out at her from behind the bars. He was being held for a full day, unlike Rusalka, who had been released after a few hours. That just drove home again how differently Valkyries were treated compared to regular soldiers, but she put a lid on that thought for the moment. She had something she wanted to ask the man in the cell. “You said you were with me at the pub where I started a fight last night, right?”