I'll Save You!!!!
I'll save you!!!!
A dark, damp-looking space. Beyond mere dampness — moisture so thick that waving a hand through the air seemed ready to produce a wet slap of water.
It looked like the kind of place that would be murder on electronics, and yet, bizarrely, the room was packed full of electronic devices and all manner of machinery.
At its center stood a massive monitor casting a soft glow, covered in electromagnetic-shielding stickers.
On the screen, something seemed to be running in a frantic, continuous cascade of activity.
And then —
Oddly ordinary, everyday text appeared.
Even a complete outsider could tell these messages were not meant for the owner of this place. And yet the room's occupant smiled as if they had been addressed to her personally — a smile that felt, somehow, a little dangerous.
"…Found you."
The monitor's owner moved a damp hand and drank in the fresh, hot intelligence she had just secured. That dangerous smile soon curdled into something cold and mocking.
"The only person who'd address our Chief Lieutenant like that has to be the Commander."
Her friend's hunch had been right. Clearly, the missing Commander was being hidden by the Chief Lieutenant.
Or else the Chief Lieutenant had… imprisoned her.
Come to think of it, something's off.
Six months without a single trace, and then suddenly one surfaces.
Maybe something else was buried inside that ordinary-looking conversation? She seemed to remember a trick like that from a mystery novel she and the Commander had read together.
What if this is a cry for help from the Commander?
The hypothesis: held captive by the Chief Lieutenant, she had finally found a crack and was calling for rescue. If the Commander had her in mind when she sent it… it wasn't entirely impossible…!
The monitor's owner flushed red to the eyes and hammered the keyboard with slick, clammy fingers.
Then, mid-exchange, the conversation suddenly began to encrypt. The moment suspicion hardened into certainty, the monitor's owner tossed her head left and right, white hair rising in a striped tuft, and practically vibrated with excitement.
"I'll come save you — I'll come save you, Commander!!!"
She had no intention of telling anyone else.
…No need to manufacture extra competition — no, wait, no. Someone at the Chief Lieutenant's level she could handle alone.
So there was no need to call in help from the others.
No need to bother them, that was all.
Having finished her self-hypnosis, the monitor's owner smiled darkly.
The wet slap of water kept sounding, over and over.
Looks like our lieutenant drank it after all.
But even if she only had a little, does it make sense that she's only just now noticing something strange? Once that thing shows up, you couldn't miss it if you tried. It grows almost instantly, doesn't it?
Does it only appear if you drink the whole thing?
That would explain it. Or maybe there's individual variation. Medicine doesn't work exactly the same on everyone, after all.
I left her a message saying to come find me if anything went wrong, and sighed. Washing and cutting up the shattered silicone only made it worse. I couldn't just throw the used pieces out as they were, and somehow, chopping them up brought on a thick wave of post-nut clarity.
…Next time I should buy something sturdy and pleasant instead of the cheap stuff.
"By the way, the clothes Irina came in are still in the laundry basket…."
What had she worn home?
I checked the wardrobe and found one set of casual clothes missing. She must have left in mine.
The clothes she'd left behind were basically dirtied by me, so washing them and returning them was the right thing to do.
When I lifted the basket to load the washer, a peculiar smell wafted up in thick waves. That distinctive damp musk mixed with Irina's body scent into something… extremely filthy.
I got a little hard. I was going to need a bit more time.
I started the washer and went back to my room. Normally this would be when I prepped the shop to open, but that looked impossible for the moment.
Opening the café in my usual pants while carrying something that could swell at any second was, well… not ideal.
I sank into the chair and opened a shopping site. I tried to find a suitable pair of pants, but nothing fit. Match the lower half and the rest was wrong; match the body and I was right back where I started.
"Hmm…."
Skirts, though… skirts looked promising. The kind of thing I'd put off until now — no occasion to wear one, and no particular desire to.
Not the best choice for mobility, maybe, but for hiding a certain reunited child of mine, nothing seemed better.
Honestly, something too big was uncomfortable in its own way.
Anyway, a long skirt ought to cover things to some degree even if I suddenly got hard. Pin it down and no one outside would notice, right?
"That's kind of funny."
Waking up in a woman's body, I'd never considered this. Only after the dick came back did I start thinking about it.
…Well, in the world I used to live in, there were places where men wore skirts, so it wasn't exactly unmasculine clothing, was it?
And so I ordered a few long skirts of the sort a widowed café owner might wear, in colors that would more or less match the shirts in the wardrobe. Factor in the apron and… yeah, it would look decent enough.
A little embarrassing, sure — but once I had the apron on and stood behind the counter, no one would even see what I was wearing. So… no need to be embarrassed.
Who was looking at me anyway?
"Nnngh…!"
I stretched and tipped the chair back, and felt blank.
Something hollow.
This was different from the sage time that comes after finishing.
Ah. Right.
It was because Irina wasn't here.
More precisely, it wasn't simply that Irina was gone… it was a little different. Last night, with her beside me, I must have been remembering the old life.
I'd told her to call me boss, but every time she called me Commander… it felt like something empty was being filled.
I'd fled headquarters six months ago, but maybe only my body had run.
I took the electronic pipe from the drawer and put it to my lips. Power on, a long pull — and the restless feeling in my chest settled a little.
"Tch."
Maybe the pants had just been an excuse.
That day I holed up in my room and watched movies. Memories of watching them together rose unbidden and left me depressed all over again.
Even so, night came, and morning followed.
"…I should open the shop today."
I got up in a daze and found a notification that yesterday's order had arrived. No particular word from Irina, so… nothing seemed to be wrong.
I brought in the package from outside and tore it open. The long skirts looked exactly like the ones I'd ordered online, not a single discrepancy.
I put one on with a vague sense of reluctance. It suited me and yet felt somehow awkward.
"Dressed like this, I look every bit the middle-aged woman."
Or should I say middle-aged man? Eh, I didn't know.
Either way, I no longer had an excuse not to open, so I went downstairs to the shop without a word.
As I prepped for opening, I felt the restless feeling in my chest settle, just a little.
Maybe people really do need work?
…Though whether you can call it work when there are no customers and nothing but flies is another question.
"Why don't people in this neighborhood drink coffee? I used to live on iced americanos every single day."
Might as well have one while I was thinking about it.
I put the carefully chosen beans in the grinder and ground them fine. This time I wasn't doing pour-over — I was pulling espresso on the machine.
I dosed the portafilter, tamped it even, and locked it in. Hit the button and, with a hiss of steam, the espresso began to trickle down.
The aroma itself was faint, really. The real fragrance comes when you grind the beans. But watching that black liquid drip, I could almost swear a good smell was rising.
I poured the extracted espresso into a cup, added ice, and finally mixed in water.
The iced americano — the drink Italians supposedly sneer at — was complete.
Come to think of it, by the time I crossed over, even Italians had started drinking iced americanos without a second thought.
I needed to spread this advanced culture here as soon as possible. Once you fall for it, there's no climbing back out.
I was sipping the iced americano when I felt eyes on me.
Old habits die hard. I pretended not to look and snuck a glance — and saw a massive silhouette studying the shop through the show window.
…Hm?
And that silhouette wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
A giant suit of the kind commonly called a combat suit or armored suit. Not something you saw every day, but something I'd run into often enough in my own way.
The problem was how painfully familiar the design looked.
The armaments had been stripped, so I couldn't be certain — but judging by the details and the design… the person inside was very likely someone I knew.
Sina Vortex.
One of the squad members I'd force-fed far too many affection-boosting items.
…I couldn't rule out the alternative. Maybe it was just some upstanding citizen (?) in a suit who'd wandered past, drawn by the smell of coffee.
I set down the empty cup, opened the door, and stepped outside. Then, with the gentle smile of someone greeting a customer, I raised my voice.
"If you're curious, come on in and take a look."
"…."
The other party didn't react — as if they'd been hit with an electric shock.
…And yet, strangely, that silence didn't feel awkward. The way even awkward silence feels natural when you're with a close friend.
In that moment I understood it by instinct. The one inside was her.
As if rewarding me for getting the answer right, the suit's hatch opened and a familiar face popped out.
A woman whose most striking feature was a single white lock of hair, swaying like an antenna among hair black as ink.
Her pale, moisture-slick face flooded with every emotion at once, settling into a complicated expression. Then a voice thick with tears reached my ear.
"Co… Commander…."
"Sina."
"Commander!!!"
Hey, wait a second.
If you hug me in that suit my waist is actually going to fold in half! Don't—! Aaaagh!
Affection-boosting items are this terrifying.
I had no idea how she'd found me… but meeting her like this again didn't feel bad.
Aside from the minor problem of my spine about to snap.
Sina, wait — I'm seriously going to die, my waist is breaking, the scar on my stomach is going to split open, it's splitting, for real.
Ah — is this an assassination!?