The Commander's Declaration

Monday. The start of another week.

Ordinarily, I should have been drowning in that familiar despair of a too-short weekend ending—that particular office-worker grief of having to climb back onto the corporate hamster wheel. But in this moment, my first Monday as Commander, what ruled my body was something else entirely. Tension.

"This should be... good enough, right?"

I'd gotten up far earlier than usual, and I'd been fussing over my appearance for two hours straight. Smoothing wrinkles. Straightening my collar. Adjusting my belt. It might have been a meaningless ritual, but my hands refused to stop. Today, of all days, I had to look as perfect as possible. I had to look like the Commander herself.

A knock came at the door.

"Commander, it's time we should be going."

"...Right."

Just as I was thinking I'd more or less gotten it together, Rielly's voice followed the knock. Unlike when we'd been working together one-on-one, her tone was flat, strictly professional. She knew, too, just how important what was about to happen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would be.

"...Hahh."

I hung my ID badge around my neck one last time, then turned and walked slowly toward the door. I didn't forget to draw a deep breath before my hand found the handle.

"Let's go. We shouldn't be late."

Today, I was going to make a declaration.

The grand hall used for company events of every kind was packed. Every one of the countless seats prepared there had been filled. Maybe it was because we'd circulated the official notice last week—I couldn't spot a single operative missing. Even if work could be postponed, I'd expected at least a few people to skip out for personal reasons. This was a surprise.

"There sure are a lot of them..."

And there I stood, below the stage that held everyone's attention. Having become today's unwitting star, I surveyed my surroundings with a carefully constructed air of indifference. It wasn't as if I were waiting in the wings, hidden from view. The luxurious interior of the hall was fully visible to me. ...And so were all the gazes that kept sliding my way, no matter how much they tried to pretend otherwise.

"The Commander has appeared at an official function for the first time in nearly two years. Who would dare be absent?"

"Even so..."

"Even if they had a reason, they would have found a way to attend. There are people here who cut their missions short and rushed back, in fact."

...They went that far?

No, wait. I'd even said we'd send the contents by email afterward to anyone who couldn't make it. Was there really a reason to scramble already-scheduled plans just to force themselves here? Normally, if the chairman announced they were going to give a little speech, the standard move was to quietly put in for a half-day—or, if that failed, sneak off to a back row and take a nap. Why was these people's loyalty to the company this intense...?

Not that it was a bad thing from where I was standing. But still. Was it even possible to feel this kind of undirected devotion toward your boss? Could a human being actually do that...? Even if my superior had been a young, pretty woman, I figured the most it would've amounted to was choosing my words a little more carefully when we talked. This was... a phenomenon my common sense simply could not process.

If a certain journalist from the real world ever got a look at this, they'd probably come sprinting over with a camera. ...How they'd get here? They'd figure it out. I managed it.

...Anyway. Moving on.

"Hey... Rielly."

"Yes, Commander."

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

"Of course we do."

Given my position, I wasn't just sitting there by myself. I was under the protection of the Internal Security Unit that Rielly captained—the so-called Maid Guards. But the, ah, distance... it was a little too close, if you asked me. This wasn't even an off-site event. What was with the close-protection formation? On top of that, the uniforms the operatives were wearing were cut out in all sorts of places, every last one of them a distant relative of any ordinary maid outfit. I'd thought I'd adapted after looking at Rielly all this time, but once the numbers multiplied... it was a whole different kind of unbearable. Where was I even supposed to put my eyes....

"That's enough. Step aside. Time's up, so I'm going up now."

"...Understood. Then."

There was no point voicing those thoughts—Rielly would just come back with a dozen reasons why I was wrong—so I asked her outright to move. At her faintly reluctant gesture, the operatives surrounding me scattered in perfect unison. Then, at Rielly's signal, the operative serving as emcee began to speak, and I rose from my seat and walked toward the stage.

A few not-particularly-tall steps later, what greeted me was a sea of gazes, every last one of them fixed on me alone. Facing dozens—maybe hundreds—of those eyes all at once, I nearly flinched despite myself, but I managed to keep walking as if nothing were wrong.

...That was close.

I'd worked so hard to keep my expression in check, and one slip almost wrecked the whole thing. Not that "expression management" amounted to anything more than a blank face, but still. That was dangerous. ...No—honestly, it was just as dangerous right now. Every single one of their gazes was pressing down on me in real time.

This is... not something I'm used to...

Welcome. Longing. Joy. Sorrow. Affection. The feelings packed into every pair of eyes looking at me came flooding in, uninvited and overwhelming. Was this another of the Commander's abilities? What a strange, remarkable person she must have been. So this was it, then. I had to take even this... before I could truly become the Commander.

...Well. Fine.

Just do it, Commander.

There was already someone who'd succeeded as Commander starting from nothing. If I took in all these abilities and still failed... that would be its own kind of disaster, wouldn't it?

Hahh.

I steeled myself once more, took a silent breath, and only then opened the mouth I'd kept shut.

In the crowd of every last Firma operative gathered in one place, Lucy—youngest of the Reconnaissance Battalion—watched the black-haired woman trudging up onto the stage.

Commander...

Watching her tap the microphone, Lucy quietly bit down on her lip. Looking at that face—so characteristically impassive, so statue-perfect—the events of not so long ago came rushing back.

"...Nnngh."

The day she'd confronted the Commander she'd missed for so long, demanding to know why she didn't remember her words. She'd let a moment's emotion get the better of her, and then, when she'd come face to face with the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truth, she'd fled. After that, she hadn't even had the courage to face her. She hadn't managed a proper apology. If it had at least been the Commander of old, that would've been one thing—but she'd gone and shouted at a woman whose mind wasn't even whole. Even accounting for that sly thief-cat of a maid who'd been glued to her side, she should have held herself back. She should have been approaching one slow step at a time. Instead, she'd sprinted full-speed in the opposite direction.

Would she even be able to talk to the Commander after this? They'd only just gotten her back, and already Lucy felt like she was standing far off on her own... she really hoped it was just her imagination.

"Ah. Ah."

Whether the Commander knew how Lucy felt or not, her mouth opened soon enough.

"Everyone. Have you been well?"

She opened with a simple greeting, then continued in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that even, uninflected voice. She started with thanks for their efforts in her absence, then moved on to saying she was aware of the problems that had arisen while she was gone, and that she'd spent the week getting a rough handle on things. It was a far cry from last week, when she'd shown such a varied, colorful side of herself. From the ice-cold expression to the flat delivery, this was the Commander they had always known.

...And yet.

"...Well. That's enough of the stiff talk."

Suddenly, words came out that the usual Commander never would have said.

"The truth is, I gathered everyone here because... I have something I need to tell you."

And then came the loaded statement that followed. Had the others picked up on something strange as well? Everyone who had been keeping silent, overwhelmed by the Commander's return, began to murmur, little by little.

In that instant, the words that infuriating maid thief-cat had told her last time came flooding back. Was she... about to talk about that? Out of nowhere like this? And what was she going to do about the aftermath...?

But questions aside, Lucy didn't have a choice in the matter.

The bomb with its fuse already lit wasn't going to wait for her.

"What's in my head is your names, your ranks, the work-related things... and nothing else. I don't remember any of it."

"The time I spent with all of you. Everything from the past two years. All of it."

She said it so calmly, as if it were nothing, but the content was nothing short of devastating. Everyone had been lost in the emotion ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of seeing the Commander on an official stage after so long. This was like taking a hammer to that feeling and smashing it to pieces. Even the veteran operatives who'd been through every kind of hell had their eyes go slack. That said it all.

Everyone who belonged to Firma believed the Commander's words absolutely and followed them without question. This time, though, it was hard to simply accept. It wasn't that their trust in her had cracked, exactly—it was closer to denial. But that didn't mean their minds could process it easily. And aside from a handful of people, Rielly among them, no one had even known about this problem. That made it worse.

...Though Lucy, who was one of that handful, couldn't find it in herself to be glad about that fact.

"But there's one thing I can tell you for certain."

The entirety of Firma had been plunged into unprecedented chaos, and yet the culprit herself opened her mouth without a care. ...And, astonishingly—

With those few words, she put every last bit of the hall's chaos to rest.

"Of course, there have been a few changes... I'll probably stumble a bit more than the old 'me,' and there will be things I'm lacking."

"When that happens... just for a moment. A very brief moment... I'd like you to lend me your shoulders."

...The problem being that her method of doing so was shock therapy. And of course it was. Because the Commander in everyone's memory was a being of cold clarity who was, at the same time, devoted to everyone—a noble existence who had always sought to be perfect, alone. Perhaps because of that, she had always avoided the very phrase help me, even when it meant pushing herself too far. And now, in this place where all of Firma had gathered, it was none other than she who was asking for help.

Silence fell because of it, and for a moment it seemed the chaos might only deepen—

Very slowly, the corners of her eyes curved. And then a smile took hold—so beautiful that a fox's cunning wouldn't have done it justice. This was a nine-tailed fox given human form. That every last person stopped breathing at a smile they were seeing for the first time in their lives was, perhaps, only to be expected. Until now, the only expression they'd ever seen on the Commander's face had been a blank one.

...Not anymore.

"That will be all. Take a reasonable break, then return to your duties."

Whether she knew what she'd just done or not, the Commander finished her remarks, turned without a shred of lingering attachment, and walked out of the hall. ...Most of the security detail following her were slow to react, but no one was going to give them grief about it. Not today.

Even as she felt the strength drain from her body, Lucy couldn't take her eyes off the Commander. The receding figure was a little different from the one she remembered. And yet, strangely enough—

It looked so much like the back she had first seen in a lightless alley, all those years ago. And for some reason, it was dazzling.

Today's speech had been a success, in its own way. I'd addressed Firma's internal situation to a reasonable degree, and I'd even gone public with the fact that I had no memories. ...The "no memories" part was a lie, of course. I was just a completely different person. But it was a lie for everyone's benefit, so even if the original Commander saw this, she'd let it slide. She would. Probably.

I'd even prepared for the possibility of someone storming the stage, but it had ended without incident. That counted as a success, didn't it?

Right. All good. Except....

...Why are they doing this to me.

"What should we do, Commander?"

"...Tell them all to go back and cool their heads."

I couldn't afford to get tired this early. Quitting time was still a long, long way off....