A Fresh Start on Alov Island
Early spring, with winter’s chill still clinging to the air. A few patches of pure white cloud drifted across the blue sky above the deep blue sea. I leaned against the ship’s railing, staring absently at the water before turning my gaze toward the island that was drawing steadily closer. Several stark-white buildings stood atop the sheer cliffs that rose dramatically from the sea.
A moment later, one of my personal maids approached and bowed at the waist.
“My lady. We’ll be docking shortly. Shall I help you prepare to disembark?”
“Yes, please.”
The four-day journey that had begun in the Karmanu Kingdom by train to the Alitus Kingdom and then by ship was finally nearing its end. A few minutes later I stepped off the vessel and took my first, deeply moving step onto solid ground.
This was the main stage of the original story. The Alitus Aindium Academy—the central setting of Wing of Union, the eighth installment in the Aindium mechanical animation series I had watched before arriving here.
Perhaps because an academy built on an island was such an unusual environment, the pier was impeccably clean and orderly. The passengers who had traveled with us poured off the ship in a rush. Most were cadets returning at the end of break, though several new students like me had come accompanied by others.
“Huu… haa.”
The air itself felt different here. Even though it was an island, the special environment meant there was almost none of the usual seaside smell. It was refreshing, pleasant—almost like phytoncide, that crisp forest scent.
“My lady?”
“Ahem. Shall we get moving?”
I had forgotten that more than ten pairs of eyes were watching me. I cleared my throat unnecessarily and took the lead, walking ahead while glancing around the pier in case any familiar faces from the original work were present. In the wide clearing nearby stood several buses operated by the academy. With help from my attendants I loaded three bags’ worth of luggage and climbed aboard.
According to the admission guide, from this point on even cadets’ families were not permitted to accompany them. The maid, guard, and aide who had escorted me lined up and faced me.
“My lady—no, Princess Ruwina. Please take care of your health.”
“Thank you. I’ll pray for your safety as well.”
Ruwina’s homeland, the Karmanu Kingdom, had shown signs of civil unrest for months. These people served the royal family; escaping the coming storm would not be easy. Even the maid, only a year older than Ruwina, accepted the situation with calm resignation. Having never experienced war despite living near a hostile border, I found their attitude difficult to understand. They were civilians, not soldiers—they could simply quit. When I had quietly asked the maid about it during the trip, she had only offered a gentle smile.
Other students finished their farewells and boarded the bus. After saying goodbye to my own attendants, I climbed aboard as well. Because it was reserved for new students, everyone sat spaced apart, quietly observing those still boarding. The weight of their stares made me shrink a little. A few more people seemed to have gotten on behind me, yet the gazes never eased.
This was awkward. Every double seat was already taken; I would have to sit beside someone. For some reason the boys kept shooting me expectant looks or suddenly pretending to be fascinated by the scenery. As I scanned for an appropriate spot, one girl caught my eye.
“Ah.”
Pink hair—rare in real life, but common in anime and games. Feeling a surge of recognition, I quickly sat down beside her.
“Eek.”
Hm? I thought I heard a strange deflating sound. Was it the bus?
I offered a friendly smile and greeted the girl beside me.
“Hello.”
“Uh… h-hello…”
The pink-haired girl was trembling as if freezing, her face turned firmly toward the window. Was there something interesting outside? I leaned over to look, only to hear another “eek” from right beside me. When I turned back, I saw her terrified expression. My leaning in had squished her into the corner.
“Ah. Sorry about that.”
“N-no, it’s fine…”
Her voice was barely a whisper. She looked so pitiful. I knew she was shy, but this was worse than I expected.
This girl was a minor supporting character who had appeared in only a single cut of the original work; I didn’t even know her name. She was an acquaintance of Kirie Elaine—one of the heroines and a mechanic for the protagonist’s CT Club—and herself an aspiring mechanic. Kirie had tried to recruit her, but the girl’s extreme shyness made it impossible. A three-second flashback scene of her frantically waving her hands in refusal had become a meme. She had no dialogue and appeared only briefly, yet her distinctive pink hair and the meme’s popularity let me recognize her instantly.
Her skills were supposedly even better than Kirie’s, who maintained the protagonist’s White Fang and everyone else’s Aindiums with excellence. Getting close to her early could only help. Plus she was adorable.
I wanted to introduce myself, but I didn’t want to frighten her further, so I settled for simply letting her get used to my face. When I stayed quiet, I heard a tiny sigh of relief. Suppressing a smile, I opened the translucent window.
After discovering it months ago and studying it thoroughly, I had concluded this really was the fan site for the anime I used to visit. The familiar usernames were proof enough. The date had reset to the original broadcast period. Because the story’s progression had changed completely, the posts were different too. A parallel world, perhaps.
I couldn’t post anything myself, so I couldn’t ask for specific scene details, but I could still follow most of what was happening to the distant protagonist. And because the first button had been fastened wrong, the story was steadily diverging from the original. Events that should have happened weren’t, and things that should never have happened were.
There was supposed to be a training exercise after the tournament in which the protagonist’s group would be deployed. Instead the protagonist claimed poor condition and sat out, leaving the rest to proceed alone. An unidentified force of Aindiums attacked during the drill, but fortunately it was a full-grade joint exercise; the second- and third-years joined in and repelled the enemy.
In the original the protagonist had messed up spectacularly yet still managed to neutralize several enemy units. Not participating at all was on another level. The first-years without him had simply panicked with no meaningful contribution, and the fan site had been flooded with criticism of the protagonist for days.
The protagonist’s glass mentality was truly something. Even with care, he couldn’t accept it. On top of that, his grades—which had been overwhelmingly first among the first-years—were slipping. The student who usually saw him as a rival had even started picking fights.
In the grade-unrestricted survival tournament at the end of the second semester, the first-years would choose a leader. Originally the protagonist would take command and shine. Instead, the self-proclaimed rival had stepped up while the protagonist, lacking both motivation and skill, participated as a regular pilot. He managed to take down several second- and third-years, but that was the limit of his ace performance. The first-years outside the CT Club squad he belonged to fell apart after a single coordinated attack from the upperclassmen and suffered a crushing defeat.
The protagonist’s classmates, now moving up to second year, were being called “washouts.” Seeing them flounder just because the protagonist held back a little made me wonder if they really were washouts. It looked like Rendel’s mental care was going to need more attention.
Let’s see… this was around episode seven in the original, right? The chapter where Ruwina first appears. I remember it clearly: a secret location, a mysterious girl beneath the moonlight. I had to make sure this first meeting went perfectly—
“Ah!”
“Eek!”
A startled cry came from the seat beside me, but I had no attention to spare. After all, I had already met Rendel in person a few months ago at the Aindium arena in the Alitus capital.
The fact that I had appeared without warning, that the scene had been broadcast and seen by everyone on the fan site, and that it had made me popular. Every time I saw the word “junior” my heart sank and my face grew hot. If only I could post, I could at least explain myself. Maybe something like this—
But when I simulated the reactions in my head, it only earned me a barrage of criticism. Sigh. What could I do? The past couldn’t be undone. That meeting might have twisted the story, but if I hadn’t stepped in at all, the protagonist’s blunders might have been even worse.
In the end, I had no choice but to play the role Ruwina was supposed to play from now on. First, I needed to survive the upcoming entrance ceremony and the next few years of school life. Since good grades were required to join the CT Club, I would have to study hard.
The CT Club wasn’t simply a combat technique research group; it was closer to an elite networking society for the top talents of each grade. Ruwina had a decent head on her shoulders and had received the finest education, so her grades should be fine. The world of Galaxia conveniently used the same language and writing system regardless of nation, so being a foreigner wasn’t a major issue.
The real problem was me. Could a former male soldier successfully act as a high-school-aged girl? And if it was dorm life, would I have to share a room with another girl? What about bathrooms? Baths? Some might call it a blessed situation, but actually living it filled me with worry. Until now I had enjoyed private facilities, but the academy used shared ones. Just imagining entering the bathhouse with the tiny girl beside me…
“Um, your breathing sounds labored. Are you feeling unwell?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
I had started hyperventilating without realizing it and worried the male student across the aisle. The pink-haired girl was understandably terrified. I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth and closed the fan-site window.
The bus carrying us drove for about thirty minutes before reaching a vast parade ground. It wasn’t an ordinary school field but a colossal training area where ten-meter machines moved about freely.
“Whoa.”
The new students let out involuntary gasps as Aindiums walked before their eyes. I had learned to pilot Aindiums over the winter in my home country, but this was my first time seeing so many moving in formation.
“Just like the rumors… ten-meter class is standard here…”
The pink-haired girl muttered softly and scribbled something in a notebook. To gauge size from a distance like that—she clearly had plenty of experience maintaining Aindiums.
Piiik—!
As soon as we disembarked, an instructor standing on the parade ground blew a whistle. Thanks to my military experience I immediately stopped gathering my luggage and ran over.
“Everyone assemble! Luggage later!”
It took the new students roughly five minutes to gather, and even then their lines were nowhere near straight. Naturally—they had never done formation drills. But the muscular instructor didn’t seem pleased.
“This year’s new students are hopeless too.”
Well, teach us something first. I felt a flash of irritation but lacked the courage to talk back to an instructor on our first meeting. Ruwina’s body would probably faint from a single blow. Left with no choice, I lined up four people—including the pink-haired girl who had followed me to the front—in a neat row.
Standing at the far right, I waved my hand overhead and shouted.
“Everyone, line up behind the five of us! Match your shoulders with the person beside you!”
The new students who had been milling about quickly formed neat ranks once the standard was set. Only then did the instructor’s expression soften.
“Hmm.”
The female instructor beside him jotted something in her notebook and approached me.
“Cadet, your name?”
“Lu… Luna.”
Using my real name Ruwina might be dangerous, so we had already agreed I would enroll under the nickname Luna. I had also heard that my origin had been changed from Karmanu to the Alitus capital. The instructor nodded and scribbled my name.
“Starting today we will begin formation drills in preparation for next week’s entrance ceremony. Go to the dormitory over there, drop off your luggage, and return. You have thirty minutes.”
“But we don’t know which room is ours yet.”
When someone spoke up, the instructor shot them a glare.
“Room assignments will be done this evening. Just leave your bags at the entrance. Thirty minutes! Execute!”
“Execute!”
I reflexively shouted the response and sprinted back toward the bus. The rest of the new cadets hurried after me.