Epilogue

Sousuke had been abandoned, powerless. It took all the strength he had just to crawl out of his trashed machine, and with a few tottering steps forward, to lean his shoulder against the wall.

He didn’t encounter any more enemies. No police or firefighters, either. He arrived at his personal armory, which was disguised as a trailer that he kept in the city, and treated his wounds there. None of them were fatal, so he assumed he’d be back in working order with two days’ rest.

He didn’t watch the news or read newspapers. He couldn’t bring himself to.

Actually... he did check the Internet once, out of curiosity about Kyoko. She was on the list of several badly injured, but he learned that she’d been taken in at a city hospital he recognized. That was all he needed to know, so that was the last report about the incident he’d read.

Wraith had probably taken her there, but he had no idea where Wraith was now. Sousuke didn’t particularly feel like looking for her; he’d probably never see her again. He wasn’t even sure if Mithril itself still existed.

He couldn’t get in touch with the Merida Island base. Nor Sydney either, of course, nor any other related hideouts. All channels were down, so even when he braved the danger to try and call, no one answered. He’d tried countless lines, countless methods...

But in the end, there was only one conclusion to reach: Mithril was gone. Every base, every stronghold was wiped off the map, and the mercenaries that worked for them were nowhere to be found. They could be dead, or on the run; he had no way of knowing which. A single soldier was helpless to comprehend the movements of a secret force on Mithril’s scale.

He didn’t know what had happened to Kurz or Mao. Tessa, either. They could all be dead. When he forced himself to think about it objectively, he knew that that scenario was by far the most likely one. Kalinin, too, he assumed to be lost. Sousuke had a way of contacting him independently of Mithril, but that, too, yielded nothing but silence. He was dead. There was nothing to make Sousuke think otherwise.

Four days later, in the morning, Sousuke carefully evaluated the situation he’d found himself in. The conclusion he ended up reaching was a shockingly simple one: I’m alone. I am completely and utterly alone. Everything he had gained had been lost in an instant. There were no comrades to aid him. No class friends to comfort him. No organization to support him. No foster father to rely upon.

No smile from the girl he treasured.

He had no idea what to do. No, he knew... It wasn’t just her body that he had to protect. He had to show a bare minimum of good faith to the world she had come from.

I don’t want to die not knowing anything. The memory of that innocent plea stung at his heart.

Then, on the fifth morning, Sagara Sousuke went to school.

Classes had apparently only just resumed, and as he walked in the front gate, he felt the students watching him, eyes wide open in shock. Well, the vast majority were shocked; the rest were curious or angry.

The parts of the school building damaged in the giants’ clash were still covered with large tarps. The broken windows hadn’t been repaired yet, either, and these were covered in cardboard and packing tape.

The remains of the Arbalest that he had left in the courtyard had been neatly carried off... by the Japanese government, perhaps, or some related organization. He didn’t know which. Either way, they were gone now.

Ironically, his shoe cubby was just as it had been: number thirteen, Sagara. He took out his slippers, which had been worn out by ten months of wear, and headed for classroom 2-4.

As he opened the door and entered the classroom, the commotion inside died down into a hush. Everyone was looking at him, including Onodera Kotaro and Kazama Shinji.

Nobody was sitting in Chidori Kaname’s seat. That was as expected; she might never return to it again.

Kyoko’s seat was empty, too. She was still in the hospital.

The first bell of the day chimed as their teacher, Kagurazaka Eri, came in to start homeroom. There were bags under her eyes, and she looked exhausted. When she saw Sousuke, she froze in place. She didn’t seem to know what to say to him.

They can be cruel. Hayashimizu’s words played back in his mind. The third years were gone for entrance exam season, which meant Hayashimizu was no longer in the school. Yet Sousuke worked up his courage—yes, a different kind of courage than the battlefield required—and said to Eri: “Ma’am.”

She stared at him for a full second. “Yes?”

“I would like to say something. Could I have a moment?”

“Well...” Eri hesitated. She turned her eyes downward, then looked over at Kaname’s seat and responded, as if to brush her sadness away. “Yes. You may.”

“Thank you.” Sousuke stepped up to the podium. For some reason, he was reminded of the day he had transferred here and introduced himself. “I’m sure you’ve already heard a great deal,” he whispered into the stony silence. “The operator of that white AS... as you likely guessed, it was me. I’m... a soldier with a certain mercenary organization, and a pilot for ASes like that one. I lied when I said that I transferred here from an American school.”

The others listened quietly, watching Sousuke with guarded eyes.

Bathed in their gazes, Sousuke explained everything: that he was a mercenary with a secret organization; that he’d forged documentation to transfer to this school; that he’d been assigned to be Chidori Kaname’s bodyguard; that there was a massive organization that was after her; that he was the reason the school had been attacked during two separate field trips.

He continued on to explain that the enemy organization had decided to come after Kaname seriously. This was the reason why the fight had started, and how Tokiwa Kyoko came to be injured so badly. And that, in the end, Kaname had been taken.

“I’m sorry for hiding it,” he finished quietly.

“Wait a minute,” one student spoke up in response. It was the person Sousuke was closest to, Onodera Kotaro. “Did you just say you’re sorry? Try saying that to Tokiwa.”

Sousuke said nothing.

“She’s in the hospital, you know. She’s hooked up to tubes. And what did she say to her family when they came? She gave them that key she’d been clutching, and she said, ‘Look after Chidori’s hamster.’ She said you’d asked her to.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you have any sympathy? Don’t you people feel anything? Don’t you care about what you got her mixed up in?!” Kotaro got up out of his seat, eyes bloodshot, and began to stride towards Sousuke, but several classmates and Eri stopped him. “Let me go, dammit!”

“Stop it, Onodera-kun!”

“I’ve got business with this bastard!” Kotaro yelled. “I thought we were friends! What the hell was this all about?!”

“I...”

“What did you come here for?” he bellowed again. “Did you think it was funny? But you can’t need us now, so get the hell out!”

“I... I just wanted to tell you,” Sousuke said sadly. He knew now, why he had come here. What he wanted to do. The firm words that had echoed in his heart since the moment he’d lost the battle five days ago.

“Tell us what?!”

“That I’m going to bring her back.” Yes. That was all it was. He wanted to tell them that. That, and nothing else.

“I’m going to bring her back,” Sousuke said again. “No matter what happens, no matter what I have to go through. I will bring her back to this place. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Everyone fell silent. Even Kotaro simply stared at him, uncomprehending.

“I’m the only one to blame for this,” Sousuke said. “She doesn’t deserve your censure. I will bring her back. I promise.”

He had no one to turn to, and no plan. But something deep in his cells commanded him: You can do this. Go out there and fight. And so...

“Please welcome her when she returns.”

He didn’t need to hear their responses. Sousuke just turned around, left the classroom, and walked out into the familiar hall. He walked through the courtyard, out the gate, and then kept on walking. Far away.

Yes... very far away.

He didn’t look back at the school even once.

To be continued