Coat and Helmet
The Imperial Army's Music Training Corps special program was basically for nobles... but that didn't mean commoners were outright barred from it. It was just hard for them to meet the conditions without the financial and time leeway. There was no law saying commoners couldn't learn instruments. And these days, with merchants and entrepreneurs richer than half-baked nobles, even that excuse might be outdated.
So occasionally, a commoner would make it into the special track. Sergeant Rui—no, now Trainee Rui—was one such rare case.
"......"
She tapped the leather-padded resonator with her palm. An elongated drum shape. It was called a rahla, but if she asked Yura Konstantia, she'd probably hear jembe.
Not because she lazily thought, "It looks like a jembe, so let's call it that." It was Yura's built-in translation system at work—whatever you called it, rahla came out as jembe in her ears. Instrument names auto-translated to the closest Earth equivalent.
Of course, Rui had no clue about that. How could she know Yura was a reincarnator unless Yura spilled it herself?
And above all, Rui had zero interest in some noble miss like Yura Konstantia. If anything, "couldn't care less" was more accurate.
She'd never thought of herself as petty, but nobles in the trainee ranks always rubbed her the wrong way.
The Music Training Corps doubled as a non-commissioned and commissioned officer school. Some trainees got extra training to become officers; the rest became NCOs. Officially decided by instructor evaluations, but everyone knew status was the real decider.
Other factors played in... but commoners had to be exceptional for a shot at officer, while nobles were set unless they screwed up royally. Pre-commissioned nobles didn't even need to try.
No wonder the brass are such a mess. Promote the best, not just bloodlines, and maybe the officers wouldn't be total disasters.
Three years of spinning her wheels left plenty of gripes.
Coldly speaking, it was a blessing doors were open at all. That's why so many enlisted flooded the band—snag officer and grab those noble perks.
Not that noble officers treated you like equals, but still.
So react with "Thanks for the charity, miladies" not "Why do they get special treatment?" But logic didn't rule hearts.
Especially when greenhorns got officer tracks locked day one, while you clawed for it.
Rui had it better. Hometown instrument practice gave her a head start. Sole commoner in the special track this cohort, so more mental breathing room. Seeing Yura or Elisia Ulvan only sparked mild annoyance.
"Rui, your shoulders are too tense."
...Or so it was.
Rui scowled at the voice behind her. Turning slowly, there stood a woman. Black hair with a faint navy sheen under the lights. Uniform immaculate, FM-level crisp. Tanned face that must've broken hearts pre-enlistment.
Yura Konstantia. One of three special-track trainees this cohort. Her amber eyes stared straight down at Rui.
"...I'll handle it. Butt out, missy."
Rui tsked, snapping curtly. The noble always nitpicked during practice, and it grated. They were equals on paper—why the coaching?
Sure, Rui admitted Yura's skill. Instructors raved after two days: "Gotta slot her as junior." Commandant even called a meeting, rumor had it.
Skill was skill. But advice annoyed no matter who gave it—even from the Army Marshal.
"......Understood."
Yura nodded slightly and backed off. But Rui's mood didn't lift. Same crap twice yesterday.
Anyone normal backs off after one rejection. Spoiled rotten much?
Rui sighed loudly enough to be heard.
...She'd never guess her first hunch was closest. In this mess, Rui's view of her special-track peers sucked. Yura aside... Elisia's wimp vibes evoked deadweight squadmates. Different flavors of annoying.
Rui pegged them mentally.
──That changed during a march.
After basic band drills for regulars, a full-day hike. Not full mountain trek, but hilly enough to hurt.
"Aaagh?!"
Heavy packs, tired legs—someone tumbles. Scream drew eyes.
Oof, watch it next time.
Rui's take at first. Might worry more for a friend, but this was face-name-only acquaintance.
"Hey, that's bone...?"
"Shit... yeah."
Till murmurs revealed the truth: bone piercing skin. Bad luck smash.
Luckily, accompanying priest patched quick. Full rest, no lasting issues.
"I can walk! Keep training!"
"No forcing it. Get helped down."
"Instructor...!"
"Enough! No arguments, Trainee Kato!"
But not march-ready. Lead instructor judged so; Rui agreed, seeing the limp.
Quit now? For a commoner, officer path dead. Some chased it casually; others desperately. Kato seemed the latter.
But self-inflicted—suck it up.
Rui pitied her, nothing more.
"──Anyone take her gear?"
Then Yura moved.
She strode to the injured, hoisted her effortlessly—like it was nothing.
"Trainee Yura Konstantia?"
"...Ah, sorry. Should've checked with you first, Instructor."
As everyone gawked, Yura looked sheepish belatedly.
"Turnaround and back like this—counts as complete?"
"...You're saying carry Kato the whole way?"
"Yes."
She nodded firmly. Wind-only silence fell.
"Why?"
"Is... 'fellow trainee' not enough?"
"...Hah. Fine. Do it, Konstantia."
"Thank you, Instructor."
Bow of thanks, then to the group: "Anyone take Kato's gear?"
She said it weakly, but already pack-plus-girl loaded. No one called her frail.
"No need. I'll take it."
"Instructor?"
"Don't argue. Trainee steps up—band senior sits?"
Instructor grabbed the spare pack, inspired.
Others too. Rui especially.
"Kato, girls don't cry over this. Grip my shoulder steady. If leg works, wrap waist—thanks."
Striding ahead unfazed. No more "silver spoon slacker" talk.
After, Yura's rep skyrocketed among trainees.
"Rui, arms still tense..."
"...Like this?"
"......Uh? Y-yeah. Perfect."
Rui included. Not showboating—carried a back-talk stranger up hills. Genuine advice, probably.
"Bit embarrassing, but... anything else in my playing needs fixing?"
"Ah, well... first..."
A leader like that? Worth loyalty, even in this hellhole army.
Pounding rahla to Yura's tips, Rui thought so.
× 'Kinda realized— this carrying pose looks super lewd?'
If Rui knew Yura's real thoughts then, maybe different. Luckily, no mind-reading.