The Commander's Physical

I swam through a consciousness sunk deep as sediment, and just as my fingertips seemed to graze the water's surface, a familiar softness welcomed me from behind. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

"Nngh..."

The ceiling that came into view was a familiar one. Did I doze off...?

Strange. There'd been a time I could work a full month straight without anything like this happening. I'd been a little tired lately, sure — but not so tired I'd keel over mid-shift. More to the point, I'd definitely been in my office. So why was I lying in my own room?

"...Huh?"

As if answering the question for me, a slip of paper sat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠waiting on the nightstand. The handwriting was so neat it might as well have been printed, and someone had even taped it down so it wouldn't blow away. Thorough as ever.

...I knew who this was. I didn't even have to look. Calia.

Judging by the note, I hadn't been waking up no matter what she tried, so she'd picked me up and carried me all the way here herself. I was grateful, but... she'd called it a service, and then she said she was collecting a fee? Did I have the wrong definition of "service"? Wasn't that supposed to be complimentary...?

If we were assigning blame, it was entirely my fault for falling asleep on the job. Still. She could've just woken me up.

"...Wait."

I was still half-dreaming, stringing thoughts together, when a single fact suddenly cut through the fog. If I'd kept sleeping that whole time, that meant...

Don't tell me I'd stayed slumped on top of Calia — just draped over her like that the entire time?

"...I've lost my mind...."

The last memory before I'd fallen asleep came rushing back, and I covered my burning face with both hands. Looking at it now, I hadn't been in my right mind at all. I should have been bending over backwards not to be rude to her, and instead I... wait. I'd buried my face in those enormous... those bare... wait. It wasn't as if I'd had any real say in the matter, but still? Was that really appropriate conduct for a Commander?!

Well... still. That feeling against my face... honestly, it had felt pretty ni—

"...Ahem."

...Today's events were going to the grave with me, if at all possible. A Commander, of all people, diving face-first into a subordinate's bare chest — that was something I could never, ever tell anyone. Of course, I wouldn't be the one telling it. Calia would. And if it got out... rank or no rank, I had a feeling I'd be socially dead.

...Still. Maybe I should buy a body pillow? It had felt nice...

"...Huh?"

I glanced back at the note without thinking, and found a line I hadn't seen before. Must have missed it while I was still half-asleep — or maybe it'd been written too small, tucked away at the very bottom. Let's see what it said...

...?

"...A physical?"

All of a sudden?

The next day, I skipped breakfast as Calia's memo had instructed and went straight to the Medical Department.

"This way, please."

"...Whoa."

The dominant impression I walked away with was wonder — curiosity, even. The basics, like the vision test and the blood draw, were a mild nuisance; I'd done all that in the real world. But being slid into machines I'd only ever seen in fiction was more than enough culture shock for an ordinary twenty-first-century human.

Ten minutes, they said, and they could tell you just about everything there was to know about your body. Lying inside one of those machines in nothing but a thin white gown felt surprisingly novel. And the interior was unexpectedly plush — I nearly drifted off again.

Come to think of it, this was a world where technology of that caliber wasn't strange at all. I'd just forgotten, buried under all the recent work.

And so, after finishing every test — a little tedious, but not particularly troublesome — the results I ultimately received were...

"You're a wreck."

"Huh?!"

...Excuse me?

"I was worried you'd spent the last two years doing something reckless."

"...And?"

"Fortunately, no major illnesses overall."

...Then there wasn't a real problem, was there? If someone doesn't have a major disease, they're fine. You can't just look at a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠person and call them a wreck. It made me worry, for a second, that I'd been living my life all wrong. In my case I hadn't even been possessing this body for long, so it was the Commander who'd been living wrong, but still.

"That said."

"...?"

There was a time I thought that, too. I, too, once had such days.

"Underweight, to start with. Then low blood pressure, insufficient lung capacity, insufficient muscle mass, insufficient body fat... just what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Urgh..."

"That little noise isn't going to change a thing. You haven't put in any effort, so what did you expect would change? After you vanished two years ago, and even after you came back — exercise, diet, you haven't fixed a single thing. Does the concept of taking care of your body even exist for you? Are you waiting to collapse once before you come to your senses?!"

The verbal barrage came from Cardia, Team 1 Leader of the Medical Department, who was handling my checkup today. Her appearance suggested she'd recite things softly, almost gently — which made it all the more devastating when the words came rapid-fire, like gunshots, until I nearly blacked out. I'd gone through life figuring I hadn't done anything particularly wrong to my body, and in a single instant I felt like I'd become a hopelessly broken patient.

The sadder part was that I couldn't refute a single word of it. I had no shortage of excuses, but neglecting my health after the possession was a fact. I'd figured that since I didn't eat that much anyway, skipping exercise would be fine...

"Hahh."

Having spent her tirade, she let out a short sigh. She must have poured her whole soul into it — her skin, so white it was nearly pallid, had flushed red. I had nothing to say for myself, so I hung my head like a gym member caught eating late-night snacks by their trainer. And then, unexpectedly, something positive followed.

"Your lungs have cleared up, at least. I don't know what you did."

"Hm? Lungs?"

"You used to chain-smoke constantly. Together with my sister."

The sister in question was, surprisingly, Calia. Unlike Calia, though, with her short lavender-tinted bob... Cardia had white hair that nearly brushed the ground, and deep crimson eyes so dark they were almost blood-red. Her build was relatively frailer than Calia's, too. Not that she hadn't developed at all — she was shorter than me, just shy of five-foot-three, with a thin waist and moderately flared hips. A classic slender figure, if I had to put a name to it.

They didn't look alike in the slightest, but the lore was that they'd met in the middle of a war and become sworn sisters. Calia had even given her the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠name. I remembered they'd relied on each other quite a bit even before coming to Firma. And now those same sisters each held a key position here... it was a strange feeling.

That aside — so Calia used to smoke, too. With a look that was so blatantly going for that aesthetic, sticking a cigarette in her mouth would complete the picture. For a girl-crush design, a cigarette was pretty much the unwritten rule. But the original Commander had been a smoker too? That was news to me.

Anyway, I was a non-smoker. Would I ever actually see Calia with a cigarette?

"...You don't remember this either, I take it?"

"Hm? Uh... no."

"...That's fine, then. Please don't start, going forward."

I'd zoned out for a moment, and Cardia asked the question carefully — as if she were the one who'd made a slip of the tongue. I hadn't noticed when she was firing words at a volume fit to rupture my eardrums, but she looked kind of cute when she softened like that...

"My sister finally quit, too. If one of you goes around tempting the other, you'll both just end up in worse health, won't you?"

...Ah. She just hated smokers. Fair enough. I was a non-smoker myself; having cigarette smell wafting around for no reason ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was unpleasant. I got it. I'd hated people who smoked on the street for the same reason. Not that I'd ever said so out loud.

...

Wait.

"Hey, Cardia."

"Yes. Was there something you wanted to ask?"

"What's that?"

"...Ah."

Feeling a little awkward, I glanced around the room and spotted a strange box. Maybe it was because it was sitting all by itself on an otherwise empty cabinet, but it gave off a thick do not touch — hazardous kind of energy. Some kind of toxic chemical? If so, why was it in an exam room?

"It's nothing special. Just a sleeping aid."

"...A sleeping aid?"

"We developed it recently. It's for pure humans only, though."

So, a sleeping pill that had gone through Cardia's hands. I didn't know much about it, but apparently once you were a Medical Department team leader, you got involved in developing all sorts of drugs too. Well — it was a related department, and competent people tended to get pulled in everywhere regardless of division, so it wasn't that strange. But if it was just a sleeping pill, was there a reason to develop one from scratch? Wouldn't it be better to put that effort elsewhere?

"By ordinary human standards, you absolutely will not wake for eight hours."

"Absolutely?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

Hearing the effect, I found myself nodding. Not a minute more, not a minute less — exactly eight hours. It'd be perfect for those nights you genuinely couldn't sleep. Take it too late and you'd oversleep, obviously... but that was just a matter of managing when you took it.

...But. Were there even any other pure humans at Firma besides me...?

"Would you like to give it a try?"

...There must be, right?