A Woman's Heart is Like a Reed
They say a woman's heart in the 39th Sector is like a reed. Whether it's right to use that saying in a situation like this, who knows—but one thing's for sure: they're unpredictable.
"So, like, what I'm trying to say is..."
On the way to the unit mess hall after her sudden proposal, Netoru eyed the girl walking ahead of him with keen interest. Her short bob, falling to just above her shoulders, swayed gently like ripples with her light steps. The girl had been chattering away nonstop since earlier. And Netoru found this Karen endlessly amusing. He wasn't saying it out loud, but he could read her thoughts like an open book.
...Did she suddenly change her mind or something?
She'd been playing hard to get, insisting she didn't want to couple, and now here she was acting all buddy-buddy. Was it a trap? For a split second, the suspicion flashed through his mind.
She's quicker on the uptake than I thought.
In truth, he'd half-expected this shift in Karen. It was just happening faster than anticipated, which threw him off a bit. Clearly, she wasn't comfortable sitting around the base alone while everyone else was out. And with sorties ramping up lately, it must have felt even more awkward. Still, to straighten out her thinking this quickly...
She had to know what it meant when she visited the infirmary that day and coupled with a guy named Netoru. The battle just a week ago had surely taken a toll on her body.
She's willing to take that risk and sortie anyway.
Should he praise her selfless camaraderie, her willingness to throw her own body into the fire? Netoru decided to update his mental file on the girl in front of him.
Way more of a soft-hearted pushover than I figured.
Convenient timing, too—Netoru was getting bored anyway. Lounging around the base like this wasn't bad, but he had no intention of letting himself rust away sitting idle. An unused blade dulls eventually. To keep a sharp edge, you had to hone yourself relentlessly. And for that, he needed Karen's help. Right now, she was the best coupling partner candidate in this unit.
They were almost at the mess hall when it happened.
"Hey, you even listening to me?"
Maybe she'd finally realized she'd been talking to herself the whole time. Karen spun around boldly and shot Netoru a look.
"Yeah, I am."
"...For real?"
"Boil it down, and you're saying you'll help smooth things over with the unit so I can fit in better, right, Karen?"
"Well... yeah, that's the gist."
Karen nodded, then dropped her gaze, nudging the ground with her toe as she spoke.
"Honestly, it'd be awkward for you to keep drifting on the edges with everyone, right? You're not just gonna be here a day or two."
"..."
Was she talking about the guy whose cheek she'd slapped? Netoru's eyebrow twitched at the unexpected words. He didn't mind his current setup much, but since he'd decided to play along with her thinking, he nodded in agreement.
"Fair enough."
"...Good. So we have a deal—you'll try getting along with the unit from now on?"
"Yeah, I'll give it my best shot."
Netoru flashed a friendly smile to put her at ease. It seemed to work; Karen's worried glare softened as she stepped into the mess hall.
The unit members were gathered inside, eating.
"What took you so long, Karen... Huh?"
"Whoa, what's this? Karen with that guy?"
"...It's the blackie?"
They spotted the late arrival and greeted her warmly at first, but their faces quickly hardened. Every one of them stared in utter confusion at the scene. It had only been a week since Karen slapped Netoru's cheek. And now the two of them were strolling in like old pals? Even Netoru might not have bought it.
"Haha... well, you see."
Under the unit members' demanding stares, Karen muttered to herself that this wouldn't be easy, forcing an awkward smile. She'd clearly tried to steel herself, but it wasn't going smoothly.
The attrition rate for Holy Knight pilots fighting bugs across the kingdom was brutally high. Even now, some unit could be getting wiped out entirely without it raising an eyebrow. Bugs were powerful, still shrouded in mystery. An enemy with no end in sight, death was an old acquaintance to every Holy Knight pilot.
Maybe that's why the atmosphere in Holy Knight units was loose across sectors—within reason, at the commander's discretion. Take the 393rd Unit stationed in the 39th Sector: aside from drinking or skimping on sleep, most behavior was allowed.
So the 393rd pilots, as usual, finished dinner in the mess hall and dove into free time. Military life limited entertainment options, but they'd scavenged a few things from the nearby abandoned city, so it wasn't half bad. Especially the billiards table they'd grabbed a few days back—it was a hit.
"Ooooh! You gonna show off for real?"
"Hold up! No fancy shots here!"
"Relax. I got this."
"Hey, you lunatic! If you tear the felt, we got no way to fix it!"
Chandler, the burly one among them, barked at Netoru. But Netoru ignored the warning coolly, pulling off a flashy trick shot and winning by a landslide. The unit erupted in cheers and chaos. A new hotshot in their midst.
"...What the hell."
Karen, watching from nearby in case things went south, could only tilt her head. She'd been ready to jump in, but it looked like needless worry. She didn't know much about billiards, but the guys' wild reactions said Netoru was legit skilled.
"Crazy... He fits in this well, so why...?"
She'd prepped all sorts of plans in case he couldn't mesh with the vibe. But Karen underestimated him—he was a natural. Almost unnervingly so. If he could do this, why had he walled himself off from the unit before? Still, she couldn't fully relax. Her unease simmered as she kept a close eye on him.
That's when Seres, who'd been watching the guys nearby, approached.
"Karen. What on earth are you thinking?"
"...Oh. Seres."
Karen scratched her cheek. She'd figured Seres would ask eventually. But how to explain?
Seres narrowed her eyes at Karen's awkward smile, her clear purple gaze clouding with bewilderment.
"Don't tell me you're planning to couple with him."
"Probably... yeah?"
"...So today's little show was all to boost your coupling wavelength, right?"
"Yep. Exactly."
Karen admitted it straight up, no hiding. Ways to raise coupling wavelength were many, but they boiled down to intimacy or emotional exchange—understanding each other. So she'd nudged Netoru toward bonding with the unit. It'd help her bond with him too. Friends first.
"Karen, are you sure about this? Your body took such a hit from just the first coupling..."
"Eh... I dunno. But won't it get a little better this way? Sitting back watching everyone else just feels wrong, no matter how I slice it."
"..."
Seres stared hard at Karen, then closed her eyes with a sigh. She'd seen the resolve in her face. The reason was obvious: the flurry of sorties lately. Natsuo was one thing, but his partner Karen was too damn nice for her own good.
"...Yeah, with your personality, sitting idle in the unit would be impossible."
"Haha... guess so?"
"That's not a compliment—don't laugh. I'm mad."
"Eek... sorry."
Karen averted her eyes from Seres's pouty glare, poking at the ground. But she had nothing to apologize for. This was her choosing to shoulder the risk and fight. Not an easy call for most. Still, coupling after what happened a week ago? Too nice by half.
Seres felt her tension melt despite herself. She placed a hand on Karen's back.
"Karen, just one thing: surviving without dying matters here, but so does coming out of it in one piece at the end."
No one knew when the bug war would end. But it would, eventually. Holy Knight pilots weren't born to die fighting bugs. Even if drafted for their talent, this was all just thrashing to survive.
"So don't push your body too hard. I don't want you dead—or broken."
"...Yeah. Got it."
Seres was the oldest alongside Chandler and the longest-surviving pilot in the 393rd. She'd seen too many "ruined" pilots. Ones who'd pushed past limits until body and soul crumbled. Living but not alive—pitiful colleagues whose images still stabbed deep, like sharpening a blade.
That's why she hated Netoru. Coupling linked minds and souls. One side staying fine while the other wrecked? Impossible under normal circumstances. Unless one wrecked the other unilaterally...
The rowdy time wound down. The unit was lax, but lights-out was strict—sleep deprivation hit combat performance hard.
Netoru watched the others head to barracks, then stepped out alone for a stroll. No real goal. Just his gut heavy from undigested dinner, needing to move.
He'd play along with the girl's whims, but flipping attitudes overnight wasn't simple.
As he wandered aimlessly, his steps halted abruptly.
—Nngh... S-stop...
"...?"
A woman's moan drifted from nearby. Caught off guard, Netoru tilted his head.
—Hah... haaah...
Whoever it was, bold enough for outdoor sex. Or unlucky timing on his part? Unit members rarely came this far. So not bold—hiding thoroughly to indulge.
Netoru let out a dry chuckle. Felt kinda bad now.
"...Hm."
In the real world, indoor sex in a unit would've been insane. Here? Not weird. Even encouraged. Sex was the simplest, surest way to boost coupling wavelength match.
—Ah... aaahn... Ngh...
Midnight quiet amplified the aroused voice, echoing. But he wouldn't peek. No hobby in spectating others. As Netoru turned to leave...
—Ngh! S-stop, let's go... Bedtime!
—Aww... Sis, it's fine. Still time left.
The content piqued his interest too much to walk away. And the voices... sounded familiar.