Petite Pilots and Lingering Doubts
Tanned skin scorched by the relentless sun of the 39th Sector. Faded blonde hair that looked half-washed out from dye, and a fierce, neighborhood-thug vibe. Netoru had never given much thought to his appearance. In fact, it often proved useful. But... shady mongrel? What the hell was that weird label? Was it because of his skin tone? He'd heard all sorts of insults before, but this was a first. Hell, could you even call it an insult?
"...Hmm."
Netoru mulled it over briefly, then felt the tension drain from his body the moment he spotted the voice's owner. No surprise there. She was trying to look intimidating—arms crossed, eyes narrowed—but when the culprit was a pint-sized kid who barely looked middle-school age, it just came off as comical.
...Rin? Ran? Which one?
Who was this girl? Unfortunately, Netoru had no clue. He'd never exchanged a single word with the twin sisters since arriving at the base. So he observed her quietly.
...She's really tiny.
He'd always thought so whenever he spotted them around the base by chance, but up close like this, it felt almost surreal. Was it even okay for a kid like this to be here? The thought crossed his mind unbidden.
She glared at him without breaking eye contact, like she wanted to have a staring contest. Netoru asked casually,
"Hey, you. How old are you?"
"...What?"
Caught off guard by the question, her tough-girl pose crumbled. Netoru crouched down to meet her eye level, which was well below his chest—a relaxed adult vibe, treating her like the little kid she appeared to be.
"You look about fifteen at a glance..."
"......Huh?"
His tone carried genuine curiosity rather than mockery. Maybe that's why her eyes went wide. At first, she seemed confused, but then her face twisted in horror.
"W-Wait a sec... Fifteen? Are you messing with me!? There's no way I look that young!"
"Then how old?"
"Nineteen!"
"...?"
Netoru's face lit up with disbelief. No matter how he looked at her, she didn't seem nineteen. Her body was far too small for an adult. But her vibe didn't scream liar either.
...Nineteen? For real?
The base had several high school-aged pilots around seventeen. Even they looked bigger compared to her.
"......Hmm."
Netoru scanned her frame once more and let out a sigh. Sure, some guys might be into this look, but damn... it was pathetically unfair. And hearing she was the same age as Karen made it even worse.
"...What the hell are you thinking right now?"
Catching the blatant pity in Netoru's gaze, she clenched her fists and jerked her head up. Her pale face flushed a heartbreaking crimson.
"Y-You...! Don't tell me you're pitying me 'cause I'm small!?"
She hadn't said a word, but her instincts were sharp. Netoru nodded shamelessly, and she ground her teeth hard. The air crackled with spring-loaded tension, like she might snap at any second. Netoru instinctively stepped back—right as,
"W-Wait! Ri-Rin! No fighting!"
A frantic voice rang out. Another girl came dashing over, basketball still rolling behind her from the court. She'd just called her Rin, so this one must be Ran.
"But sis! This jerk just looked down on me!"
Rin flailed her arms and legs wildly, pinned by Ran's grip on both sides. Anyone watching would peg her as a total kid. Nineteen? No way in hell.
"Nngh! Still, no fighting!"
At least the sister seemed level-headed. Or so Netoru thought—until,
"Seres sis said it, right? Don't talk to that thug, don't even go near him!"
Ran suddenly pointed straight at him and yelled. Netoru scowled. Was that on purpose? Nah, probably not.
"...Ah! Th-That... I mean... um..."
Realizing her slip too late, Ran's face went ghost-white as she glanced around nervously. Netoru shook his head with a sigh. These kids piloting Holy Knights? Annoying as hell in every way.
Dealing with them any longer would just give him a headache. Satisfied he'd at least figured out which twin was which, Netoru turned and walked away. Next time, he'd know Rin from Ran.
* * *
Injuries were commonplace for Holy Knight pilots. Sure, most damage in battle came from the Knight's body itself, but that didn't mean the pilots linking their mana nerve systems escaped unscathed. More precisely, the artificial mana nerves built inside their bodies took the hit. Treat a machine roughly, and its parts break—humans were no different. Pilots were just "parts" to make the Holy Knight move, after all.
And female pilots? They were like the Knight's very heart.
"......"
Her hazy consciousness slowly surfaced. Had riding a Holy Knight right after discharge been too much? Or was it that man?
Karen lay in the infirmary, slowly opening her eyes.
"Karen. You're awake?"
Seres' face appeared first. Gazing at her ever-beautiful purple hair, Karen managed a weak smile.
"...Seres. How long was I out?"
Her low voice lacked strength. Noticing, Seres gave a wry smile and answered,
"Hmm... It's not dinnertime yet, so about two hours?"
"Two hours? I was out that long?"
Already? She'd only meant to close her eyes briefly, but she'd slept deeper than expected. Would she even sleep tonight? Maybe she'd overdone it.
Karen sat up slowly on the infirmary bed, twisting her stiff body in a light stretch—when,
"...Huh?"
A sudden realization hit her. Why was Seres here right when she woke up? She vaguely remembered coming to the infirmary together...
"...Seres. You didn't wait here the whole time till I woke up, did you?"
After returning to base, Karen had headed straight to the infirmary—her condition wasn't great. The medic gave her a pilot nutrient shot, and she'd passed out. Seres smiled gently.
"Hehe, don't worry. I'm not that stubborn. I just came to check since you weren't around by dinnertime."
"Oh... okay."
"Anyway, more importantly—how's your condition?"
"Hmm..."
Karen flexed her arms, gripped her fists, and nodded faintly. A good nap seemed to help.
"Feels better after some solid sleep."
"Good to hear."
But Seres' expression still held worry. Cautiously, she broached,
"...Karen. What are you gonna do from now on?"
"About what?"
"Coupling. You planning to keep coupling with that guy?"
"......"
"...Honestly, you looked in real pain today. Never saw that face when you coupled with Natsuo."
Natsuo... Her coupling partner and childhood friend. The boy still hospitalized. No one in the unit disliked him. Kind, righteous.
"I don't think you need to force it with that guy. Today's mess aside, pushing too hard will just hurt you."
"...That's."
Karen's lips trembled at Seres' words. Thoughts raced through her mind, but she found her response.
"But... I can't just sit out indefinitely. You know how big a loss it is when one fighter's sidelined, Seres."
"True enough."
Karen was right; Seres didn't deny it. In the 39th Sector, where they were always short-staffed and racking up losses, every pilot mattered. Karen sitting out would burden the others heavily.
But still—forcing her into rough couplings with him was selfish. The others probably didn't want that either. Natsuo, her original partner, was hospitalized from overexerting last battle to save everyone. Without them, many would have died—maybe the whole unit wiped out.
Seres gently stroked Karen's hands and smiled softly.
"Karen, don't worry about that."
"B-But..."
"And sorry for bringing it up late, but we've all already talked it over. So you can afford to be a little selfish."
"Seres..."
As one of the unit's elders, Seres' mature, soothing voice had a calming magic. Karen nodded with a soft smile.
"...Thanks."
Truth be told, Karen didn't want to couple with that man either.
...Brutal.
His coupling felt suffocating somehow. She still wondered how it even worked. No matter how she replayed it, their coupling wavelengths didn't match. Yet he'd succeeded, manipulating her body like it was his own. It defied common sense. And that disconnect—like her body wasn't hers— was a new kind of violation.
Like her whole body was being defiled by his touch. Having always coupled with Natsuo since the institute, anyone else felt alien. Especially in battle, when their bodies unconsciously synced—goosebumps everywhere. Only Natsuo had ever touched her like that...
Still, one thing Karen had to admit.
His skills were insane.
Netoru's prowess was no joke. Maybe because of the mismatched coupling, battle details were fuzzy—but whenever she snapped back, bug corpses littered the area. And not a scratch on the Holy Knight. Unwilling as she was, purely on skill, he outdid Natsuo.
"Anyway, I've checked on you, so I'll head out. Get ready and meet at the mess hall, okay?"
"Yeah, got it."
Karen nodded obediently, earning a fond smile from Seres before she left. Karen prepared to go too—slipping on her outer jacket, straightening the rumpled bed. The medic would handle it, but her neat-freak nature couldn't leave it messy.
Finally adjusting her clothes, she reached for the door—
Creak...
Someone opened it first.
"......Ah."
Recognizing the face, Karen's mouth fell open in surprise, body tensing. Their eyes met point-blank.
Of all the bad luck... it was him.
"Hm?"
The faded-blonde man looked mildly surprised too, frowning at Karen right in front of him. And for some reason, his expression felt a little scary to her.
