Changed Morning
A changed morning dawned. The sky was filled with pristine white clouds, and warm sunlight bathed the world below. Beneath it, countless people hurried through the streets, each driven by their own purposes. There wasn't a shadow of worry on the citizens' faces. They seemed to be savoring their everyday routines, too busy with their own tasks to notice anything else.
It was a relief, truly. But at the same time, the sight of that peaceful normalcy only made Natsuo's chest tighten with unease. Do I really belong here, taking it easy like this? After spending so long on the rear lines, it was almost laughable how he'd started to miss the constant tension of not knowing when the bugs might strike next.
Haa.
Lost in his thoughts, Natsuo let out a sigh and turned his head. Instead of Kyril from the 391st Unit, who had been discharged that morning, he spotted familiar faces from the 393rd. They were six in number—newly admitted patients from just two days ago. A significant loss for the unit's manpower.
From what he'd heard, there had been a fierce battle a few days back. They'd fought nonstop for an entire day, apparently. A single sortie drained tremendous stamina, but battling without rest was brutal on both men and women alike. Especially for teenage pilots who were still immature both physically and mentally.
And to top it off, some of them had died in that fight. They were kids Natsuo knew well—even close to Karen. It hurt. They were all just one or two years younger than him. But bug bullets and shells didn't discriminate by age.
As memories of their faces and voices flooded back—faces and voices he'd never see or hear again—Natsuo clenched his fists tight. If I'd been there, could I have changed something? Saved even one or two more lives? Anything would have been better than rotting back here like this.
He hated this helplessness more than anything.
"Natsuo hyung. What're you spacing out for?"
Takuya, who had come from the 393rd Unit to recuperate at the hospital, called out from behind him. Natsuo swallowed his rising emotions and forced a neutral expression.
"It's nothing."
Takuya was in a similar state—mana nerve strain from overexertion, technically mana exhaustion from excessive mana use. It happened often with prolonged Holy Knight operation or sustaining output beyond limits.
...Especially if your partner was Seres. Natsuo had never experienced it firsthand, but her Holy Knight guzzled mana like no other. They said its consumption rate was at least two or three times that of standard models.
Maintenance Chief Asuna had explained that Seres was fundamentally different from institution-raised pilots. Those girls were built with versatile mana nerve systems optimized for multiple male partners. Yeogisa like Seres, on the other hand, had their systems constructed from childhood solely for one person.
That made her a tough match for institution pilots—their mana nerve structures were just too alien. No wonder her coupling partners changed so frequently. From what Natsuo remembered, most didn't last six months before swapping out.
Takuya had held on pretty long, all things considered.
"Oho. Were you thinking about Karen noona? Makes sense—you haven't seen her in forever. Bet you're dying to."
Misreading Natsuo's distant gaze out the window as lovesick pining, Takuya grinned slyly.
Natsuo scratched his cheek with an awkward chuckle. Truth be told, Karen had been on his mind a little.
"...Yeah, of course I miss her."
"Then hurry up and recover so you can get discharged. She's waiting for you, y'know. You gonna let her keep coupling with some other guy forever?"
...Other guy.
Natsuo gave a bitter smile. If he could recover faster, he'd have been out already. It was driving him crazy inside. How long was he supposed to leave Karen alone like this? And watching her couple with someone else? Not exactly pleasant.
To make matters worse, Kyril—who'd been discharged before him—had left behind all sorts of stories.
Kyril—male pilot from the 391st. A flirty, crude guy who loved dirty jokes during their hospital chats. But amid the nonsense, there were gems worth heeding. He was a veteran, after all, with knowledge Natsuo lacked.
According to him, a woman's first time drastically altered her constitution. That's why sex before adulthood was forbidden—to avoid those changes prematurely.
Coupling wavelengths hinged on multiple factors, like intimacy—or conscious exchange between partners—and how well the male pilot's mana attributes meshed with the female's physiology.
Female pilots channeled male mana through their bodies to power the Holy Knight. Poor reception meant no operation; attribute mismatches cut efficiency.
Mana attributes were innate—untrainable. But not unfixable. You couldn't change the man's mana, but sex could tweak the woman's constitution to some degree.
Male semen carried dense mana. Flooding her womb with it stimulated the mana nerves directly, no loss. Since female mana nerves centered near the uterus, it worked.
The first time mattered because that initial shock had outsized impact on reshaping her physiology.
...First time, huh.
Maybe because he'd been fantasizing about Karen, Natsuo felt his cheeks heat up as he scratched them. Her birthday was coming soon—she'd be an adult. Sure, to outsiders she'd just be a fresh 19-year-old, but legally, it opened the door.
No lie, dirty thoughts crept in. Natsuo had hit adulthood first; the wait was torture. Puppy love was cute, but he was a guy—adult entanglements held appeal.
Karen had always been the girl he watched at the institution. His first love. Diligent, smart, perfect as a woman and partner. Mature beyond her years, too. Sure, she played big sis sometimes, teasing him like a kid and sparking little fights... but he didn't mind.
He couldn't bear losing her. Just having her near made him smile without realizing. That was Karen.
...Wanna see her soon.
This was their longest separation ever. Meals, training, studies—from childhood, she was always there. Maybe his itch to return stemmed from plain old missing her.
Bored to death of hospital life amid that anxiety, Natsuo sighed again.
...Any way to recover faster? Karen had been out a month already. Biting his lip hard, he glared inwardly at his sluggish mana nerves.
If returning meant anything—even the devil's temptation—he'd do it.
2.
Thanks to Karen's help blending into the 393rd, Netoru now ate with the squad. Their meals were usually rowdy—endless chatter filling the isolated space.
But not today. An awkward silence hung over the mess hall, where conversation normally buzzed.
Blame Karen and Seres. The tension between them was palpable—no one oblivious enough to miss it. That's why the squad ate in focused quiet, stealing glances.
Even Netoru hesitated to break the ice. Amid the squad's furtive whispers,
Netoru observed the pair. Seres seemed okay, flashing her usual gentle smiles now and then—maybe aware of the stares. No sign of yesterday's fragility.
Karen was the issue. A good night's sleep helped, but overheat lingered; her complexion was poor. No appetite either—her tray emptied at a snail's pace.
Seres shot her a worried look and ventured carefully,
"Karen. You look unwell... Should we head to the infirmary together?"
"...I'm fine. I'll handle it myself."
Karen set down her chopsticks, picked up her tray, and stood. All eyes converged. It screamed like she was dodging Seres.
"Sorry. Gonna head out first. Food tastes off today."
Aware of the stares, she apologized to the squad. As she brushed past,
"......I'll be waiting in my room. Come when you're ready for treatment."
A soft whisper just for Netoru. She murmured it and glided out alone.
Despite yesterday, she planned to keep up treatments. Most would dodge for days—no shame.
"...Tough one."
Netoru couldn't help admiring aloud. Gutsy? Rational? Either way, she wouldn't break easy. Can't hate a girl like that.
Smiling inwardly, he felt eyes on him and turned. Seres quickly averted her gaze, fidgeting like she wanted to ask something.
Had she overheard Karen's mutter?
