Commander, a Slip of the Tongue?

Calia, Head of the Intelligence Department.

Together with the woman who'd been appointed my adjutant at just the right moment, I was running a final check on the plans I'd drawn up.

"I've put the unit we're sending to Berta together like this. Does it look alright?"

"Hmm. How about folding a few more cautious people into the roster? That country's pretty closed-off as a nation."

"You mean we need someone who can grab the reins if things go south? Got it."

Leave it to the Head of Intelligence. Drawing on the vast store of information packed inside her head, Calia picked out, one by one, the things I'd overlooked or failed to anticipate.

All we'd really done was tweak the personnel assignments and the timing of the deployment—but in a fight that could turn into a dance along a knife's edge at any moment, that one extra inch of difference was what separated winners from losers.

"Hahh."

Still, I could breathe a little easier. The fact that we'd only needed to adjust the small stuff meant, conversely, that the overall framework was pretty solid. These were plans I'd agonized over and then agonized over again. They'd better not fall apart.

At least my abilities were at a decent enough level. If they hadn't been, I might already have stepped down as Commander.

The others would have a heart attack if they heard me say that—but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an incompetent superior is the worst enemy you can have on a battlefield. If it came to that, leaving would be the right call. Not that it was going to happen anytime soon, and the plans were coming together smoothly enough… but if something ever did blow up, I'd have to step down whether I wanted to or not. Being the head of an organization meant taking responsibility for your mistakes.

…Best-case scenario is nothing goes wrong at all.

You never know with people, though. I'd done everything I could, so the rest was up to the heavens. And since the Commander had already steamrolled most of the hostile factions, there wasn't much left that could get in our way. Objectively speaking, we had nothing but positives going for us.

Our bright future, however, was not the issue. The problem staring me in the face right now was something else entirely.

I… have nowhere to look…

I forced my gaze, which kept trying to wander, back onto the documents.

Ordinarily, if you heard "Intelligence Department"—and the director's seat, no less—you'd picture someone in neat, professional attire. It was a desk job, after all. Not much fieldwork, so the general assumption was tidy and put-together.

But this was the world of Firma, and Firma's entire foundation was a pretty-girl gacha game. A world where people were relatively unbothered about putting their own skin on display. Trying to force real-world common sense onto it wouldn't even get you your original investment back.

I mean, I knew that, but still…

That outfit of hers was just… a lot. For starters, the top—reminiscent of a sports bra—was barely managing to contain her pride, which looked ready to burst. And given the cut of the thing, the sculpted abs beneath were on full, shameless display, as a matter of course. She'd thrown on something like a coat over it, but it didn't cover a single inch of her front, which only made the exposure more conspicuous.

And then there were those pants. Look at the left side and you might think they were perfectly normal… until you noticed the other side was short enough to qualify as hotpants, putting that long, bare leg on full, refreshing display. Even the covered side was a problem—the fabric clung to her skin like leggings, which made looking in that direction feel like a bad idea all on its own. And the leggings I remembered definitely came up to the waist, so why could I see all the way down to her pubic bone…?

…What am I doing.

I shook my head hard inside my mind and yanked my eyes—still carrying a man's leftover instincts—desperately back where they belonged.

Of course, I'd already seen Calia's outfit in the game, so I'd known what to expect. She was a laid-back older-sister type of character who didn't exactly match the title of Intelligence Director, which had made her even more memorable. I'd thought two weeks of living here had built up some immunity, but apparently the gap between 2D and reality defied all imagination. It was this bad even knowing what was coming. If I'd been caught off guard… what would have happened to me?

…I'd have been dragged before the Disciplinary Committee, wouldn't I? For sexual harassment?

This is not easy…

When was I ever going to be free from the threat of becoming a sexual-harassment perpetrator? I couldn't exactly tell the girls to go cover themselves up. I was going to lose my mind. And it was far too late to announce that I'd been a man in my previous life—not that anyone would believe me even if I did.

"Commander."

"H-huh?"

"I've patched up every part of what you told me that needed patching, you know?"

"R-right. Thanks."

I'd been conjuring up random images to drive the impure demons out of my head when Calia suddenly leaned in close. I startled, then tried to answer as if nothing were wrong—only for my voice to tremble, just a little.

…She hadn't noticed what I was thinking, had she?

That wasn't the problem.

"Just with words?"

"…Huh?"

"I worked really hard, you know. Don't I get a reward?"

As she said it, Calia slipped off the sunglasses she'd been wearing the whole time and hooked them on the front of her chest.

…And in the same instant, I found myself staring directly into the cleavage I'd been killing myself to avoid.

No, wait. That was cheating. If a person went and did something like that the moment you let your guard down, then, I mean, as a matter of common sense, your eyes were going to go there for a second, weren't they? This was force majeure…!

Ah, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠uh…

The shock that slammed into the back of my skull made the thread of reason I'd been clinging to start slipping through my fingers. No. Think. Use your head. I'd gone to all the trouble of putting together a cool set of plans; I did not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠want to get dragged off in some ugly fashion…!

…Was it because I was in a different kind of crisis? My brain started accelerating far faster than it had when I'd been designing Firma's future. I had to answer with something—anything—before she got suspicious.

A reward. A reward… what was I supposed to give her? A reward you could give an adjutant… what was there?

…Wait. Adjutant? What had Rielly gotten from me? She hadn't accepted anything material even when I'd tried, but there had been one thing she'd asked for.

Ah. That was it.

For a moment, silence fell.

Something had gone wrong. Something had gone badly wrong. Nothing had even happened yet, but I knew perfectly well that I'd made a mistake.

…Should I just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠resign?

My face was burning like it had caught fire. What? A hug? That was a reward? Why had I, of all people, suddenly said something like that? Had I actually lost my mind? Was thinking before I opened my mouth really that difficult?

I'd clearly used my brain too much. Or maybe two weekends of coming in to work in a row had made me let go of my sanity. …Damn it, those were basically the same thing. Still, I needed to find some reason—any reason—I'd spouted that nonsense, or I wasn't going to feel better.

…Anyway. How was I supposed to salvage this…?

"Hahh… haaah…"

Right in front of me, Calia kept letting out hot, ragged breaths. The easy, leisurely smile she'd worn the whole time was nowhere to be found; she said nothing, just repeating those shallow, rapid inhales. Add in a face flushed to the roots, and I could almost have sworn she was unwell.

And that wasn't all. She kept clenching and unclenching her hands, pinching at her own thigh for no reason, her body trembling in little shivers… A string of behavior that was anything but ordinary—but I couldn't bring myself to speak first. Whatever else, I was the one who'd caused this.

It was a rare sight I'd never even seen in the game, but I hadn't particularly wanted to see it under these circumstances. If she'd just teased me outright, I could've been embarrassed once and been done with it. A reaction like this, though, and I couldn't get a read on anything. At a glance, it looked like she was holding something back. I wasn't sure exactly what—but did I really need to know?

More than that, I just wanted this weird atmosphere to end already.

"…Hahh. Commander?"

"H-huh?"

Just as that thoroughly uncomfortable current was stretching on, Calia—having recovered her composure at some point—let out one last long breath. But why was she grabbing my shoulders all of a sudden? What had I done?

…My mouth, unlike my inner thoughts, was not so honest. I wasn't guilty of a single thing, so why did I keep stammering?

Still, it was better that words came out at all. Because what she said next stripped even the shape of an answer from them.

"Don't go saying stuff like that to anyone but me, okay?"

"W-wha?"

Anyone would be thrown off hearing something like that. I had my reasons. I mean, I was glad when people came up to me without reservation, but even so. That was the kind of thing you said to a partner who'd been looking at someone else on the street…

"Answer."

"Uh… s-sure. I will."

I answered because she pushed, but a strange sense of déjà vu crept in. When had it been? When I'd hugged Rielly before, she'd said something similar, hadn't she? What was it she'd told me…?

…Right. That was it. Looking at it like this, the only thing different was who said it. The content was identical enough to send a chill down my spine. Were the two of them in cahoots or something? Weird.

I'd gone along with it back then, crushed under a gaze that looked ready to devour me. A simple hug should be fine, right? And if it wasn't… well, honestly, would it even matter? Judging by how this was going, Calia didn't particularly want a hug from me anyway…

"Good. Then now…"

"…?"

"Can I have my reward?"

…Come again?

Huh?

I looked at Calia, wondering what on earth she was talking about… and found that she'd already put a little distance between us, her arms spread wide as if to say, come here.

…It never ended. Weren't you supposed to treat nonsense as nonsense…? I was the one who'd spouted it first, obviously, but I'd been of unsound mind at the time. And now she wanted me to actually do it…?

Fine. I'd concede a hundred times over that I could manage a quick hug. The problem was that my counterpart was still sitting in a chair.

"Could you at least… stand up…?"

"Hm? Why?"

"Because I can't hug you if you're sitting like that…?"

"You can just sit on my lap, can't you? What's the problem?"

I said it even through the embarrassment, but the person in question just tilted her head, as if she couldn't see what the issue was. That was the issue. What was she playing dumb for? Even without a gender barrier in the way, you didn't usually put your superior on your own knee…

"Aww~ my arms are gonna fall off waiting for you, Commander~."

"No, that's…"

"If my arms fall off I won't be able to work starting tomorrow~. Whatever shall I do~?"

"…Stop. Fine. I'll do it."

I'd been about to get another word in, but the uncharacteristically whiny tone finally shut my mouth. …Sigh. Fine. It was only the once. Better to give her a single hug than end up working by myself over something this stupid. Calia would hold on for five minutes and let go. We still had work left. How long could she possibly cling?

…

"Calia… sto-op…"

"Shh. Quiet."

"Mmph—"

…Somebody save me.