Return
Overheat was like a chronic illness for female Holy Knight pilots. Everyone had experienced it at least once due to the accumulated fatigue from repeated battles, and in the worst cases, it could lead a woman to ruin. Karen's month-long hospitalization was largely due to its effects. The prolonged, grueling combat had carved deep cracks into her mana nerve system.
There were no known cures for overheat. At best, there were a few crude medicines to cool the fever building in the body—and even those were mostly harsh drugs that did more harm than good. That left "natural healing" as the standard approach.
Yes, that was surely how it worked. But what was this refreshing morning?
It should have been cause for joy, but instead of pure happiness, Karen wanted to deny reality.
A lie... There's no way this could happen...
No matter how many times she denied it inwardly, the results were honest. Her condition wasn't perfect, but it was good enough to pilot a Holy Knight right away—as long as it wasn't overly strenuous combat. Objectively, it was an unbelievably swift recovery. Truth be told, Karen herself had doubted whether she'd be able to pilot properly the next day.
If only this had come from some ordinary method... it really would have been great.
As she thought that, Karen unconsciously touched her lips with her fingers and shot Netoru a sidelong glare.
"......"
Before returning to the 39th Sector, as they handled breakfast with combat rations in his mouth, he looked utterly nonchalant. A bandage wrapped lightly around his head made the red marks on his nape seem, at a glance, like battle wounds.
But unfortunately, those weren't from combat. They were the nail marks Karen had left while clutching his neck... undeniable proof that last night hadn't been a dream.
I must have lost my mind...
Just looking at them brought last night's events flooding back, her face burning in an instant. It wasn't normal—no one seeing her would think so. She wanted to crawl into a hole.
She was too embarrassed to even lift her head. When had she ever kissed a man so passionately? Especially an adult kiss like last night, with tongues entwining...
...Haa.
Maybe that's why. The more she dwelled on it, the more shame and self-loathing swirled in her chest. In the end, Karen let out a resigned sigh and tore open a combat ration.
Her mind was a mess, but absurdly, her stomach was empty. It couldn't be helped—overheat burned up the body's calories. That's why she'd pulled out the rations the moment she woke up last night, no matter the situation. She needed to fill the deficit properly. And besides, what was done was done...
When she thought about it, Netoru had helped her. That was a fact.
Having convinced herself like that, she said, "...Ugh. Still tastes awful."
Karen grimaced as she bit into the energy bar. Now that her body was better, her sense of taste had returned to normal. She'd eaten it just fine last night, though.
2.
After settling breakfast with combat rations, they boarded the Holy Knight immediately. There was no time to dawdle—they needed to check the situation in the 39th Sector.
As usual, Karen lay down in the cockpit, and Netoru took position behind her.
"Netoru. What happened last night was just an act to 'treat' me, right?"
"Treat?"
"Yeah, treat."
Karen said it in a calm, subdued voice as she connected to the Holy Knight—lower than her usual tone.
...I see. So she'd decided to think of it that way.
Netoru stared at her back and chuckled silently.
"If it's treatment... then I guess I'll have to treat you every time it hurts."
"...What?"
Karen's body flinched in the cockpit.
"It's gotta be better than suffering from overheat. And combat efficiency changes too. Right?"
"Th-that's."
"In a way, I might be better than a military doctor."
"No, please don't say such shameless things! Even if that's true, I object to that kind of treatment! Isn't there a normal way? Something ordinary!"
Finally losing her composure, Karen raised her voice. Not content with that, she canceled the connection, whipped around, and glared at him fiercely.
Netoru met her gaze steadily and asked quietly, "Another way?"
"...Like, just holding hands or something?"
"Oh, like coupling meditation?"
"Y-yeah! Like that. It's simpler, and neither of us feels awkward. Right?"
Like she was coaxing a child, Karen struck a persuasive pose. Netoru just found it amusing. She wasn't outright refusing, so she seemed positive about the "treatment" itself.
Netoru shook his head.
"Karen. Sorry, but holding hands won't cut it."
"...You're not lying?"
"Do I look like I'm lying right now?"
"Yeah. You do."
Despite his serious tone, Karen's eyes narrowed. Like she was warning him not to get any funny ideas. It was truly regrettable. Where had this twisted trust come from? Their combat sync had been pretty good yesterday, after all. At least she hadn't slapped him—that was a blessing.
"Hm."
But Netoru wasn't lying. The issue was how to make her understand.
No helping it. After a moment's thought, he decided to lightly explain last night's "treatment."
"Karen. To do 'treatment' like yesterday, we need specific conditions between us."
"Conditions...? What are they?"
"If I had to put it in words... unity of consciousness."
"...So we have to kiss?"
"Yeah. It's the easiest and best way for us to focus completely on each other."
Of course, there were other good "methods," but mentioning them now would definitely earn him a slap.
"......That shameless face. I can't fully believe you, honestly."
After staring at Netoru intently for a while, Karen turned back around to face forward.
"We'll talk about this seriously again once we're back at base. Okay?"
"I don't mind. But you... you're not saying no."
"That's..."
Karen fell silent at his question, then admitted, "...No choice. It'd be a waste to ignore it."
Netoru smirked at her honest reply and gripped the controls.
3.
The "treatment" had clearly paid off—the Holy Knight moved as smoothly as ever. As long as it wasn't intense combat, mobility wouldn't be an issue.
They went this way, as expected.
The path back to the 39th Sector was littered with bug traces. The footprints alone made it clear their numbers were beyond expectations.
That was when they arrived back in the 39th Sector.
─...Are both of you safe!
Rien contacted them as if she'd been waiting.
"Yes. We're fine here."
─Thank goodness... Really, thank goodness...
She must have been worried sick. The immediate contact first thing in the morning meant she'd been keeping tabs constantly.
"More importantly, Commander. Can you tell us the unit's current status?"
─...Yes. Sending data link.
The familiar screen popped up shortly after. It detailed the surrounding terrain, bug movements, and real-time updates on the busy unit members' positions.
......So the battle hasn't ended yet.
A quick scan showed the unit forming a defensive line while bugs methodically prepared to breach it.
As Netoru checked the bugs' numbers and composition, he clicked his tongue softly.
"......A large group of long-range artillery spiders have taken position on the hill."
They must have been the bug swarm he'd spotted at the border in the dead of night.
─...Yes. We couldn't stop them. I'm so sorry.
Rien's voice was listless with shame.
Regular glide-cannon spiders were one thing, but long-range artillery spiders armed with howitzers were a nightmare once entrenched. Like siege tanks from some famous game, they sacrificed mobility for overwhelming firepower. The standard tactic was to neutralize them before they dug in.
"Failed to suppress them early?"
─It was a midnight surprise attack. We spotted and responded immediately, but most of the unit had no night combat experience...
Night battles were rare. Bugs preferred daytime activity by nature. Plus, they were tricky for Holy Knights. Visibility dropped for bugs too, but those lobbing heavy fire from afar had a terrible matchup against them.
Bugs were linked via their "network," so even in the dark, they'd confirm a comrade's death and unleash bullets and shells without hesitation. You could take out one bug at night only for shells to come flying out of the darkness. Not easy for "rookies."
A failed night op meant serious injuries or deaths.
"Unit casualties?"
─......
A heavy silence followed. Then Rien spoke with bitter regret.
─1st and 2nd Platoons each lost 2. Total of 4...
Two Holy Knights down.
"......I see."
Karen, listening, bowed her head in shock. Bad news piled up the moment they returned. Her emotions surged, shaking the coupling—sorrow, anger, regret, emptiness. They transmitted to Netoru too.
─...Can I ask you two something?
"What is it?"
─The long-range artillery spiders at Point 306 don't know you're there. If it's okay... could you hit them from behind?
"Solo?"
Netoru pondered. The bugs were prepping their assault, so defenses around the artillery spiders were probably thin. They wouldn't expect a rear attack. Worth a shot.
...If their condition was good.
In this state, it's too much.
Karen had hit overheat last night. Even improved now, jumping into hard combat the next day was unrealistic. He was about to say no—
"...Netoru, let's do it."
Suddenly, Karen turned, looked him in the eye, and said it.
"Try it?"
Netoru furrowed his brow. Wasn't it too reckless? Failure wouldn't just risk them—it'd doom the whole unit counting on them.
"Karen, in your current condition..."
He trailed off mid-sentence, spotting something. Karen was absently touching her lips, face deep in thought.
No way, was this girl...?
Realizing what she was pondering, Netoru let out an incredulous chuckle. Soon, Karen steeled herself and said,
"...Netoru, if we do that thing from last night again... think we could pull it off?"
At that moment, Netoru thought: The unit said Natsuo was pretty reckless—had that rubbed off on her?