The First Inflection Point: Line's Victory
The reason Line could defeat Rendel was simple. He had mixed feints throughout the match to conceal his weaknesses, but she had seen through them completely. She was a genius capable of identifying exactly how to exploit those flaws even in the brief window after a meal when her digestion shouldn't have settled yet. Unaware of any of that, I had handed her the information. Ruwina had no real grasp of just how brilliantly her older sister piloted Aindiums or how prodigious her talent truly was. To her, Line was simply someone to respect and obey without question—an object of blind admiration rather than an idol she longed to emulate.
Anyway, this was a problem. The story's protagonist had lost. This wasn't just a simple reversal of victory and defeat. I remembered the original Rendel. He had risen to fame, winning every battle, only to commit a massive blunder in his first real combat. Everything spiraled out of control, and his mental state collapsed before the fight even ended. Back then, when fans called him a glass cannon, I had agreed with them. And now that same Rendel had lost in the finals of a friendly tournament between four nations—held in his own kingdom, no less. It had even been a comeback victory against him. I couldn't imagine the shock this would deal to someone still so emotionally immature.
Maybe I should stop by to check on him on my way to see Line later. I tried to console myself with the thought that at least it wasn't real combat, so he might be fine. With that optimistic spin running through my mind, I rose from my seat. As Ruwina, I had duties to fulfill.
“I’d like to go congratulate my sister.”
“Yes, my lady. This way, please.”
After spending several days adjusting to Ruwina’s life, the refined speech and graceful movements of a noble young lady now came naturally. Memory could be a terrifying thing.
Guided by what appeared to be event staff, I descended toward the underground waiting area for competitors. That was when the anxiety began to creep in again. Rendel would be okay, right? He was the protagonist—he’d overcome this somehow. I tried to think positively, but the unease only grew. If things had gone the original way, with Line as the intended champion and Rendel winning through an upset, I wouldn’t have worried at all. In Ruwina’s memories, Line never obsessed over winning or losing tournaments like this.
A conversation the two sisters had shared before departing for this event floated into my mind.
Line had offered a dry smile at Ruwina’s question.
“But… I don’t like the idea of you losing.”
Line had playfully pinched Ruwina’s nose before releasing it and picking up her cup from the table again.
Ruwina’s face had fallen at those words. She didn’t want to leave her country or her sister’s side. I felt every ounce of that emotion as if it were my own—sadness, fear, and a strange, hidden sense of anticipation. It was the same conflicted psychology of a child who fears leaving the nest yet secretly dreams of an independent life.
The internal affairs of the Karmanu Kingdom were complicated and dangerous. Several factions were fighting over an unstable throne, and Line—as the former first in line for succession—had to make decisive moves. Ruwina, her full-blooded younger sister, held one of the highest positions in the kingdom yet possessed almost no personal power base or combat ability. In other words, she made the perfect hostage.
Line had searched for a foreign institution capable of protecting her sister safely and had chosen Alitus’s military academy early on. It offered the highest level of self-defense training and was practically crawling with Aindiums and elite pilots. Her itinerary this time also included a tour of the academy and consultations about studying abroad. That part had been omitted in the original story, but it looked like it would proceed properly now. It was good for Line to be able to inspect the academy where Ruwina would be staying in person. Rendel’s defeat, however, had been completely unexpected.
If the story went off the rails, even the half-baked knowledge I possessed would become useless. The already bleak future would only grow more difficult, so I couldn’t help feeling impatient.
Outside the arena, the emcee was stretching out the time. In a few minutes, Line and Rendel would emerge from the waiting rooms, exchange greetings, the other athletes would gather, and the awards ceremony would begin. Before that, going to find her respected older sister and offering congratulations was perfectly in character for Ruwina.
Rendel was nowhere to be seen in the corridor leading to the waiting area. Maybe he was in the room next door. I waited a moment, and the door to Line’s room opened. I called out to her in a deliberately bright voice.
“Sister!”
“Ruwina?”
Line looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected me to come. I handed her the small bouquet the bodyguards had prepared.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
“Thank you.”
Line accepted the flowers with a radiant smile. My chest felt heavy, knowing I was deceiving her.
“Lady Line Edelstia! The awards ceremony is about to begin. Please proceed to the arena!”
At the event staff’s call, Line gently stroked my hair before heading out. I stepped into the corridor as well to watch the ceremony, but someone was standing at the far end opposite the exit. It was the original story’s protagonist, Rendel, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to shatter bone.
Rendel was on the verge of losing his mind from pure rage. He had made no mistakes. The perfect pace control needed to use his acceleration ability, the training to move exact distances, the timing for hit-and-run attacks—he had practiced all of it until dawn for weeks, and it had all turned to dust in an instant. His opponent had been nicknamed the strongest, but he had let his guard down, thinking a title given by a minor nation like Karmanu couldn’t mean much. He wanted to beat up the version of himself from just a few hours ago.
Strictly speaking, he had never won once. A victory by decision? That was just a polite way of saying he had spammed attacks without landing a decisive blow and dragged out the clock. In contrast, the three matches he had lost outright had been complete KOs. It was as if she had read exactly where he would move; swords appeared on his path, his legs were swept, and the moment he slowed down from a distance, bullets flew at him. In the final round, the arm swinging his sword had been caught bare-handed, followed by a knee strike. There was no greater humiliation.
Thump. What genius? She was an idiot if anything. Rendel bit his lip hard enough to tear it and pounded the innocent wall. Losing was one thing, but the way he had completely fallen apart afterward disgusted him.
“Damn it…”
The awards ceremony was about to start, so he had to go out. Rendel took a deep breath to regain his composure and walked down the corridor. Blood welled from his bitten lip. Without thinking, he moved to wipe it with his sleeve—only for a white handkerchief to be thrust in front of him.
Startled, Rendel turned. There stood the girl he had seen through the hospital window a few days ago. She had brilliant platinum hair and mysterious amethyst eyes. Dressed in what looked like an expensive dress, she was clearly a noble.
“Uh, um?”
When the flustered Rendel stepped back, the girl frowned slightly and followed him forward. She gently dabbed the handkerchief against his lip.
“You fought well. Against an opponent who was older and had far more real combat experience, you did more than enough.”
Line was one year older than Rendel. In a period of life where one year meant learning and growing tremendously, that gap was significant. Strangely, the thought eased his heart.
Once the bleeding stopped, the girl pressed the handkerchief into his hand and moved away quickly. Only then did he notice the nearly ten bodyguards standing behind her. Even for a noble, that many escorts suggested she was a treasured daughter from an extremely wealthy family.
“U-um… how should I return this…?”
Rendel trailed off, holding up the handkerchief. It was a pathetic excuse. He regretted not simply asking her name. As he mentally kicked himself, the girl smiled softly.
“We’ll meet again soon. You can return it then.”
“Huh?”
When Rendel made a dazed face, the girl added quietly,
“Please take good care of me from now on, senior.”
With those words, she ascended toward the noisy surface level. Rendel stared blankly at the spot where the girl had vanished like a mirage, then snapped back to reality at the urgent call of an event staff member and headed up to the arena.
Whew. Thank goodness. Rendel’s expression as he stepped onto the podium wasn’t too terrible. He clearly had a lot on his mind, but that brooding look was basically the default for pilots. I hadn’t originally planned to meet him directly, but since I had interfered and twisted events, I needed to fix it myself. Rendel was sharp, but Line wasn’t widely known. Very few people even realized she had once been first in line for Karmanu’s throne. I figured that subtly hinting she had abundant real combat experience would let him figure out why he had lost. Plus, he had been gnawing on his lip like an idiot. If he went out looking like that, people would be shocked, and I didn’t want Line to face any misunderstandings, so I had wiped the blood and even given him the handkerchief. I had also slipped in a request to take good care of me in the future. I thought I had cleaned up the situation rather well.
From here on, I really had to follow the original story.
The awards ceremony proceeded. The athlete who had won the third-place match yesterday received their medal. Cheers and applause filled the arena. When it was time for second place—Rendel—the roar was deafening. People were chanting his name from all over. I started clapping along with everyone else when suddenly—
“…Huh?”
Familiar rock bass music echoed from somewhere. It was unmistakably the ending theme of Wing of Union.
As I looked around for the source of the music, a translucent window appeared before my eyes.
“……”
It was the screen of the Aindium fan site I often visited. The bodyguards beside me didn’t react at all, as if they couldn’t see the strange object that had suddenly materialized. After a moment of hesitation, I poked the window with my finger. It expanded like a clicked link.
I clicked through and read a few more posts. They perfectly matched what had just happened with Rendel. If he had won as in the original story, these posts wouldn’t exist. Did that mean the events happening to Rendel were being turned into an anime in real time and broadcast somewhere, with fan reactions appearing on the board?
A chill ran down my spine. I waved my hand frantically, and the translucent window vanished without a sound. When I pictured the window in my mind, it reappeared. The content hadn’t changed. The bodyguards gave me strange looks as I suddenly waved at empty air, but I had no attention to spare for them.
My actions were being turned into animation and broadcast somewhere? I wanted to die. The comments calling her a heroine gave me goosebumps. Maybe I should just ignore the window and live normally? But thinking about what was to come, more information was better. Besides, the idea of personally steering the story of my favorite work… It was taboo for a true fan, yet something everyone had probably imagined at least once.
If I couldn’t avoid it, I might as well enjoy it. From now on, I would continue playing the role of Ruwina. If that could bring the fans even a little joy, it wasn’t a loss, right? I could gather information along the way, too. And in the end, I would lead this story to a happy ending. No matter what.