Chapter 3

Spring. The freezing chill of winter ended, heralding the season for budding flowers. Cherry blossoms flitted about; birds sang. And during this joyous time of year… “NOOoooo!” The Imperial capital Yunmelngen. In the third base of the Empire, the largest militarized nation in the world, Commander Mismis wailed. “I don’t wanna go! I don’t wanna do bootcamp!” She was lying on the floor of the conference room, flailing her arms and putting up the greatest resistance she could muster as she kept shouting, “No, no!” The commander showed not a shred of embarrassment or concern for her integrity as she threw a tantrum like a child refusing to go to school. “Commander Mismis, please calm down.” “…Iska?” “Don’t be scared. Come on, please get up.” The Imperial swordsman, Iska, addressed her in a soothing tone and offered his hand to his superior officer. “Please look out the window. There’s a bright blue sky out today. Look, there are even birds over there by the base. It’s such a nice time of year.” “Y-yeah, it is.” “Spring’s right around the corner. Commander, what comes to mind during this season?” “…Flower viewing?” “For the Imperial forces, spring is synonymous with bootcamp.” “Nooooo!!” It was no use. He’d tried to make bootcamp out to be another tiding of the season, but it seemed Mismis harbored a repulsion for the very word. “You don’t need to be so dramatic. We’re not even doing submarine or aircraft training. It’s just the basics, like running laps and strength work.” “Those are the things I’m worst at. You should know that, Iska…” Commander Mismis looked deflated. Despite her behavior, she was actually a full-grown adult at the age of twenty-two, but with her cherubic face, combined with her short stature, she could pass as a kid who recently graduated elementary school. “Commander, as I remember it, you just barely managed to meet the required height for the Imperial forces, correct?” “That’s right. I passed by wearing really thick socks that added two centimeters.” “That’s definitely against regulations!” “Back then I was convinced I had some more height in me. But that’s not the issue at hand, Iska!” Still sprawled on the ground, Mismis pointed at herself. “All the members of the forces are huge and muscular. But the Imperial bootcamp even leaves those tough guys in the dust. And you want an itty-bitty lady like me to go to that?!” “I sympathize with your pain…” Bootcamp—which was generally known as “basic training and combat” or BTC—struck fear into the hearts of many Imperial force members on an annual basis. “It must be a cakewalk for you though, Iska,” Mismis said. “No, no. It was like hell back when I first enlisted.” Even Iska, who’d had the greatest swordsman in the Empire as his teacher, had almost given up during BTC when he first joined the forces. He’d been thrown into a pool with his hands tied, and he’d been forced to seal himself for two minutes in a room filled with tear gas without a gas mask and collapsed because he hadn’t been able to breathe. That was how unreasonable their training was. “But luckily, Special Division III’s bootcamp only lasts a week.” “I still don’t wanna goooo!” Commander Mismis screeched again. “Let her be, Iska. She’s just up to her typical antics.” Jhin, the silver-haired sniper reclining in a folding chair in a corner of the room, turned to them. “It’s the same as how a cicada starts buzzing once summer rolls around. Whenever spring bootcamp comes, the boss always starts wailing. It’s just more of her usual stuff.” “Oh, Jhin, isn’t that a terrible thing to compare her to. How could you basically call her a cicada?” Nene asked. She was sitting next to Jhin, her red hair done up in a ponytail. That was everyone. Mismis was in charge of Iska, Jhin, and Nene, who all made up Unit 907. “Look at this, Jhin.” Nene pointed at Commander Mismis, who was still lying on the ground. “A cicada buzzes for its future. That’s completely different from Commander Mismis, since she’s crying in order to avoid training. Lumping her together with the cicadas does them a disservice!” “You’re so mean, Nene!” Mismis couldn’t let that go, of course, and leaped up. “Well, if you’re going as far to say that about your superior officer, that puts me in an awkward position. Well, Iska, when’s the bootcamp, then?” “Right, we actually just got word about that.” Iska produced a notice from his pocket and handed it to the commander. “It starts tomorrow.” “You’ve got to be kidding!” “They announce it without warning every year, after all.” “But it’s still ridiculous… Aww, I had plans during my time off this week, too.” Mismis turned to look up at the ceiling. Just then, the conference room door flung open with a Bam. “Keep it down! We can hear your wailing in the next room over!…Wait, is that you, Commander Mismis?” A bespectacled, black-haired commanding officer walked right into the room. Though she had a serious air about her, she curled her lips into a mean-spirited smile the moment she saw Mismis. “How are you, Mismis? You’re looking ever deplorable today.” “Oh, it’s you, P. How have you been?” “Who are you calling P?!” Commander Pilie Commonsense was twenty-one, a year younger than Mismis, and she’d only recently been promoted. She came from a well-to-do family in the Empire and seemed as proper as any affluent girl should be. However, she had a major flaw. She was arrogant. “I heard you barely squeak by at every bootcamp, Mismis.” Commander Pilie pushed up her glasses. She ran her gaze over the length of Mismis’s body, taking the small commander in from the top of her head right to the tips of her toes. “Goodness! You always give lackluster proposals during regular meetings and barely pass tests in any subject every time. And most of all, you look just like a little kid. You’re a disgrace to the commanders.” “Hm. You think so?” Commander Pilie was merciless in her verbal assault, but Mismis didn’t react at all. “But, P,” she said. “What is it?” “Weren’t you taken away on a stretcher just like me during last year’s bootcamp?” “Grk?!” “And see, look at our heights. We’re about the same size.” Indeed. Mismis only reached Iska’s chest, and Commander Pilie was just about as petite. There was such little difference in their sizes, there was almost no point comparing them. “Say, Iska,” Nene quietly whispered into his ear as she compared the two girls. “Commander Pilie sure does pay a lot of attention to Commander Mismis.” “Yeah, I guess it’s ’cause they’re too similar, so she sees our commander as a rival.” As far as abilities went, Commander Pilie was nothing to write home about. She was below average in athleticism and terrible at shooting or operating machinery—Mismis was more or less the same in those areas. The decisive difference was Pilie’s elitism and her desire to climb the social ladder that came with it. “Apparently, she puts in regular requests to get into the promotion rack at the Imperial headquarters. She’s famous for asking to be put into the running for management positions anytime an opening comes up,” Jhin murmured. “She’s in no position to laugh at the boss. Struggle all she might, she’ll never get into HQ with those middling marks.” “Wh-who are you calling middling?!” Commander Pilie had turned around at Jhin’s comment. “Sure, I’m not all that competent. That’s true. But my grades are just barely below average. And Mismis is way below average. That makes a world of difference!” “It really sounds the same, though…” “It’s different!” She briskly responded to Iska’s comment. “Haah…I can’t believe it. I have no clue why a Saint Disciple like Risya would ever associate with a failure of a commander like you.” “Well, we graduated the same year, so we’re friends.” “That’s exactly what I find unbelievable!” Commander Pilie pointed straight at Mismis. “Saint Disciples are the most honorable members of the forces and are selected by Their Excellency. Of course I wonder how someone like you is friendly with her.” “You’re being so dramatic, P.” “Am I? You could easily use your friendship with a Saint Disciple to get a referral at the headquarters.” Then Pilie looked up at the ceiling and murmured, “I am so very jealous,” before continuing. “No other woman has managed to climb up the career ladder like that. To be taught by her, the ideal elite soldier, is my dream!…Oh, Risya, please become my boss. And recommend me for the headquarters, too!” Just then…the conference room door opened once again. “Heeey, Mismis, how’ve you been?” “Risya?!” Pilie jumped up. Risya In Empire—the tall commanding officer with intelligent and refined features—could have put even a model to shame. Though she was as young as Mismis, the talented woman had been promoted at an unprecedented speed until she was selected as a Saint Disciple, the top position in the Imperial Army. “Mismis, Isk, Jhin-Jhin, and Nene. Yup, looks like we’ve got all four members of Unit 907 here…huh?” After she looked at Iska’s unit, Risya shifted her gaze onto the fifth person in the room—the other commander. “Oh, is that you, P?” “It’s an honor to be in a mentor’s presence, Risya, ma’am! You must have come here to see me!” “No, not at all.” She didn’t beat around the bush. “Actually, I don’t seem to remember ever becoming your mentor, P.” “What?! But don’t you see how much I idolize you? I’m superior to Mismis as a commander in every way!” “You’re not doing a great job at hiding your ulterior motives.” Risya stared coldly at Commander Pilie and let out a heavy sigh. “Besides, I know you’re only flattering me in order to get a referral into headquarters.” “Grk?!” “Now, let’s compare your behavior to Mismis here!” Mismis widened her eyes as Risya latched onto her from behind. “She may be the textbook example of an incompetent commander, but she’s got thick skin and sure is quiet. She’s clumsy and sleeps in late, but that just makes her more like a difficult-to-manage pet!” “Risya, that’s not praise at all!” “But it is. I’m trying to say you’re as cute as a kitten.” “But you always tease me…” “Only because your reactions are so adorable.” Mismis pouted, and Risya patted the commander’s head. The Saint Disciple actually did look as satisfied as an owner doting on her household pet.