The Commander's Return (3)

The price Calia demanded for the crime of falling victim to an internal enemy — question mark very much included — was brutal beyond all reason.

"...Do we really have to go this far?"

"Why? Playing hooky feels good, doesn't it?"

"The work... is piling up..."

She'd stolen my work. From me.

No, wait. That sounds wrong. Let me be clear up front: I am not a workaholic. I am a perfectly ordinary, well-adjusted human being.

I want to slack off too, okay? I want to be one of those garbage bosses who dumps everything on everyone else and just goofs around.

Still... getting a rough picture of what happened while I was gone is a basic requirement for anyone leading an organization, isn't it?

...Of course nothing major had happened. And even if it had, Calia would have handled it herself.

But even so, that didn't change the fact that I ought to look things over with my own eyes. Just because nothing huge had gone down didn't mean nothing had happened at all.

So, better to take the beating first. If I had to do it anyway, I wanted to get it over with fast...

"...Hey, Calia?"

"No."

"At least let me talk..."

"You're just going to ask me to let you go again. Not happening."

...In this position, what was I even supposed to do?

I was lying on the same sofa as Calia, locked tight in her arms. What exactly did she think I could pull off like this? I hadn't even been given the right to refuse. She'd scooped me up as her so-called payment, dumped me on the sofa, and before I could so much as twitch, she'd lain down herself — sealing off my only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠means of escape in a single move.

"Haa... Commander, you really are nice to hold..."

"...Could you not treat a person like a stuffed animal?"

A narrow sofa with no line of retreat and no way out. I'd been looking slightly upward from there, locked onto Calia's eyes, for several minutes now.

...If I lowered my head, something soft and full would be waiting to greet me, and doing a face-dive into that cleavage was not an option. The second I did, whatever dignity I had left would evaporate on the spot. Even if holding her gaze was a little intense, eye contact was the better choice.

Still, maybe because we'd hugged plenty of times by now, my head wasn't catching fire the way it used to. On top of that, I'd even shared a bed with the girls on this last trip. In the purely innocent sense of the word.

And yet the embarrassment... honestly, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠part was completely out of my hands. I really ought to start getting used to this kind of thing.

Then again, lying here like this... it was warm, and kind of nice, actually...?

...Wait. Hold on. What am I thinking.

"...Where's Cardia?"

"Oh my. I'm right here and you're asking about my little sister? Am I not enough for you?"

"You know that's not what I meant..."

I shifted the topic, partly just to air out my head. The last I'd seen of Calia before walking into headquarters was her dragging Cardia off somewhere. The person in question, however, was content to feed me dumb jokes and nothing else.

And stop stroking me. It feels weird...

"Curious?"

"...A little?"

"It's nothing, really."

"...?"

"I just... showed her a tiny bit of her big sister's dignity."

...So she'd beaten the hell out of her.

Well, unless Cardia used her abilities, in a pure physical contest Calia would win by a landslide. It was kind of amazing, sometimes. How had someone with that imposing physique ended up as Head of the Information Department? She wouldn't have looked out of place in a combat unit at all. I supposed that just meant she was that good at her job.

"Even cold water has a top and a bottom, and she had the nerve to make the first move."

"...Huh?"

"That damn girl. I trusted her and sent her along..."

...I didn't catch the rest, of course. From context it sounded like she was cursing out Cardia — but they weren't actually on bad terms, so they'd work it out, right? Sister fights... I didn't need to worry about those, did I...?

"...Hwaaam."

A sudden limpness washed through me, and a yawn slipped out unbidden. I hadn't even done anything today. Why was this happening? Leftover fatigue from yesterday? Or maybe... it was just warm here.

"Sleepy?"

"No... not that much."

"If you're sleepy, you can just sleep like this. I don't mind, you know?"

"You're not listening to me at all..."

I have work to do today. I'd said it so many times. Why was she trying to put a perfectly functional person to sleep? Sleep? What sleep. I was still wide awake.

...

Ah. Wait. Please no.

"Calia."

"Mm?"

"I take back what I just said. I'm ridiculously sleepy."

In that instant, drowsiness slammed into me as if every signal my body had been sending until now had been a bald-faced lie.

...What the hell? All of a sudden?

I hadn't had coffee this morning. Should I have hunted some down somehow? Or was this a delayed side effect of Cardia sucking my blood?

...

...Ah, I can't. I really can't hold out.

"...I'm going to sleep."

"Yeah. Get some rest."

"Sorry. I'll just excuse myself for a bit..."

"I already said it's fine."

The drowsiness spread like a drug I couldn't fight, and I had no choice but to ask her pardon. The situation had a weird sense of déjà vu, but I didn't have the bandwidth to care about that. Sorry, Calia — she'd probably carry me to my room like last time. She'd get tired of holding this position too. There was no way she'd just stay like this the whole time.

That was as far as the thought got before I gave ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠myself over to the tide of sleep rolling in.

"...You can excuse yourself for the rest of your life, as far as I'm concerned."

...Whatever that last mumbled something was, I was too sleepy to pay it any mind.

"...Hoo."

Calia lowered her gaze to the Commander, sleeping soundly, dead to the world.

Beautiful. Precious.

Watching her breathe so softly, it felt like a nine-tailed fox purring in her arms. Stick a tail on her and there wouldn't have been much difference, so it wasn't exactly a stretch.

And the conversation she'd stolen with that adorable, half-asleep Commander in the moments before she went under — that was the day's greatest prize. Last time the Commander had passed out without a sound, so this time Calia had triggered her ability even more gently, and it had paid off.

...Nice.

A sudden warmth of good feeling, and Calia drew the Commander tighter against her.

She was happy.

If she could go back a few years and tell that girl that one day she'd be lying in the same place as the Commander, holding her... that girl's face wouldn't have survived the slapping.

Was this the payoff for all the hardship until now? Faced with a situation that had exceeded her expectations in the best possible way, her spirits soared without a ceiling.

...That damn girl.

And then that feeling dropped straight through the floor.

The source of her fury: her sworn sister, who for today might as well have been a traitor to the nation. She'd sent her to watch, to make sure nobody did anything stupid — and the girl had come back stuffed full of nothing but her own selfishness.

Her sworn sister was a rival too, in a sense, but Calia had trusted her more than the others, which was why she'd given her the job. And this was the thanks she got: a slap across the back of the head. She'd figured that with two other people around, Cardia would keep herself in check. This was handing a fish to a cat and asking it to watch it.

Losing the first marking stung. But it should be fine for a while.

...She'd personally educated the thieving cat who'd dared steal what belonged to someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else. If Cardia knew her place, she wouldn't come sniffing around again. And even if it wasn't Calia doing the educating — if word of this got out, there were people who'd light up like torches and beat her for three days and three nights straight.

If she valued her own life, she'd keep her head down. Stay quiet as a dead mouse for a while. If she got herself killed by showing off... well. Calia would say a prayer. They didn't share blood, but they had been sisters, once.

"...Commander. You know that?"

"..."

She stroked the Commander's hair with quiet care, murmuring in a low voice that wasn't like her. The only person awake in this room was herself, so silence was the only answer that came back... She knew that, of course, and kept talking anyway. In a way, it was precisely because she was the only one awake that she could finally say these things out loud.

"Two years ago you built such an iron wall. And now you go and leave an opening..."

"How am I... no. How are we supposed to not get our hopes up?"

"Of course, you still don't look at us that way... but that's okay."

The feast of confessions, almost like a sacrament, wrapped up in a way that was surprisingly inevitable.

...It was basically talking to a wall, but laying it all out like this felt a little lighter anyway.

Calia let out a quiet huff of a laugh, then carefully brushed aside the bangs of a Commander who wouldn't have noticed if someone carried her off on the spot.

And on the pale forehead that was finally revealed, she pressed a careful kiss.

...The scent that touched her nose was sweet. The Commander definitely didn't wear perfume. So a person could smell like this.

Everything else was already perfect. If they could just change those stuffy-looking clothes, it'd be even better.

Ah. Come to think of it...

There was an event coming up soon. At first she'd been ready to shut it down — what kind of event at a busy time like this? But those lunatics had grabbed her by the pant legs and begged loud enough to shake the company, so she'd at least given the proposal a proper look.

And then her own opinion had done a complete one-eighty, and she'd pushed it through on the spot with her acting-Commander authority...

"...Think she'll like it?"

She caressed the Commander's cheek. She couldn't predict what the Commander would say when she figured it out on the day, but at the very least, she wouldn't refuse. And that much was more than enough. It was overflowing.

...Because that — and that alone — was what they were after.

"I'd love it if she looked forward to it."

But if they told her ahead of time, she'd fight tooth and nail to stop it. So it had to be a surprise.