Chapter 1 – July 2046 – After School

That day, I didn’t notice anything different about Nagamine.

No, maybe that sounds like I’m trying to make excuses. But at least when she ambushed me as usual at our usual spot—the stairwell landing after school—I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary about her.

Looking back, maybe her energy was just a bit higher than usual. Nagamine Mikako isn’t the flashy type. She’s small in stature, not particularly beautiful compared to the other girls in our class, and not someone who stands out. But she’s got a strong core, something I know better than anyone else after watching her train up close for over two years in the kendo club.

She didn’t have the best memory, but she was the most diligent with practice. While other girls dropped out one after another before even reaching spring of our second year, unable to handle the grueling training or the ice-cold gym floor in winter, Nagamine stuck it out without a single complaint.

Because of that, she became the vice-captain in our second year’s second semester. Honestly, she deserved more recognition than me, who got roped into being the captain just because the advisor appointed me, even though I tried to dodge the role.

Though she had the title of vice-captain, Nagamine essentially acted as the manager for the boys’ team behind the scenes. She was the only girl who stuck around, and even with new recruits, we never had enough members to enter a team in official matches, so she never had the chance to show her skills competitively.

I’ve always felt bad that Nagamine got the short end of the stick. Even if she’d gotten pissed, shouted, “Screw you guys! Do your own damn laundry!” and slammed a resignation letter in my face before storming off, I wouldn’t have blamed her. But she never complained, and she supported the club the whole way.

So, yeah… I’ve always been grateful to Nagamine, even if I never said it out loud.

Really grateful. But I never voiced it because saying something like that to her face would be too embarrassing. And when it’s just the two of us, it always feels like those serious conversations don’t matter anymore.

We never talk about anything heavy. It’s always about what happened at school that day, the drama she watched last night—silly little things. I just sit there and listen. But it’s not like I find it annoying. I don’t think Nagamine is naturally chatty either. If she were, I probably wouldn’t keep falling into her little ambushes.

Yeah, maybe that day she was a bit more talkative than usual.

But at the same time, she seemed restless, like she was trying to distract me from something, skipping topics one after another.

As I made my way down, exhausted after supplementary English lessons, I found her leaning lightly against the sunlit wall of the stairwell, where sunlight streamed relentlessly through the open windows.

“Noboru-kun, how were your finals?”

She asked brightly.

“Aside from the subjects I needed extra classes for… somehow okay. What about you, Nagamine?”

“Nagamine totally nailed it.”

“So… you think you can get in?”

“To the same high school.”

She said it with a happy smile, then quickly added with less confidence, 『Ah, I mean… probably.』

I figured she was just trying to be considerate of me, which honestly kinda annoyed me—but I let it slide.

Unlike me, who has wild ups and downs, Nagamine’s grades are consistent. Not outstanding, but she rarely messes up. With all her club activities, she shouldn’t have had much time to study, but maybe her ability to focus when it counts is just that good.

If she keeps it up, I think she’ll get into Johoku High without a hitch. To go to the same high school, I’d have to push myself. To be honest, I’m starting to feel the pressure.

Walking side by side with Nagamine, we headed down the stairs and made our way to the bike lot behind the school building.

Along the way, I imagined Nagamine in a high school uniform. Johoku High is probably the second-best school in the district in terms of grades, but it has a top-tier reputation and a long, proud tradition. If I remember right, they celebrated their 150th anniversary a few years ago.

So, everything—from the school building to the rules—is old-fashioned. Their uniforms too: boys wear gakuran, and girls wear sailor uniforms, and even though we’re nearing the midpoint of the 21st century, they stubbornly stick with that style. But Johoku isn’t the only school stuck in the past. That lingering aftermath of the Tarsian Shock is still holding everything back…

[Gakuran (学ラン) = traditional Japanese male student uniform with a high-collar jacket and straight pants.] [Tarsian shock=タルシアン・ショック]

No, the Tarsian Shock doesn’t really matter.

The world was already like this by the time I became aware of things.

Almost all of the national and local budgets have been swallowed up by Tarsian-related spending. What’s left for public projects is barely enough for minor repairs. Roads, bridges, railways, bus routes, schools, hospitals, police boxes, and fire stations—they all look exactly like they did ages ago. It’s as if time has stopped; the townscape hasn’t changed in five or six years. I guess that’s what it means to be under a total mobilization regime. But once it drags on long enough, it starts to feel normal and you don’t even notice the inconveniences anymore.

…Anyway, I’m getting off track.

The real issue is Nagamine in a sailor uniform.

Would it suit her?

I couldn’t really picture it.

Nagamine, one year from now, at fifteen. Would she have grown taller?

Or would she still be just as tiny as she is now?

***

Only students from certain distant areas and club members who attend morning practice are allowed to bike to school.

So technically, I’m not supposed to ride my bike anymore. But I do anyway. Nagamine, on the other hand, is so straight-laced—she immediately switched to walking to school the day after handing over the vice-captain role to her junior. Because of that, when we go home together, I have to walk my bike alongside her. Even if I offer to give her a ride, she absolutely refuses to ride anywhere near the school.

I match her pace, chatting about whatever nonsense comes to mind, taking our time and even making detours. To a student preparing for entrance exams, it’s a total waste of time—but I kind of enjoy that waste.

We pushed our bikes out onto the school field.

On the grounds, the football club guys were shouting as they chased the ball. Even though the sun was starting to set, the heat was relentless. Heat shimmered up from the dried ground, wrapping around the players.

Caught in the swirl of heat, the players looked distorted, like melting cheese. Even though they were probably moving fast, it felt like I was watching them in slow motion.

Worried we’d melt too, we took the shady path next to the field toward the school gate. Nagamine kept talking to me non-stop. But her voice seemed to melt in the heat, losing its shape before it could even reach my ears.

She spoke fluidly, as if the unbearable heat didn’t faze her at all. I managed to squeeze in the occasional half-hearted response. Then, a sound completely different from Nagamine’s voice or the soccer club’s shouts rang in my ears.

A deep, low rumble that shook my whole body.

The sound poured down from the sky and made the ground tremble. The soccer players stopped in their tracks and, one by one, looked up.

“Oh!”

I followed their gaze and let out a dazed-sounding voice.

It looked like a tiny stray cloud, floating in the deep blue sky.

“A spaceship…”

Nagamine had noticed too, squinting up at the sky.

“The Cosmo Interstellar Naut Space Battleship, Lysithea… A new-generation vessel from the UN Space Force…”

It was pure white, smooth, and shaped with elegant curves that made it look more like a graceful sea creature than a steel structure.

This dream ship capable of near-light-speed travel was now lumbering through the atmosphere, showing off its elegance.

There had been news about Lysitheaarriving in Japan as part of a crew recruitment campaign two or three weeks ago. But it had only docked at a Space Self-Defense Force base and hadn’t been shown to the media. To suddenly see it in person, with no warning at all, was honestly shocking.

Maybe the selection process was held at the base?

Seeing the real thing was probably meant to fire up the applicants’ motivation and morale. But the weird part is, even though it was supposedly an open recruitment, they never announced how to apply or what the criteria were. The only thing I knew about the chosen crew was that 220 of them would be Japanese, out of a thousand total recruits, based on the amount Japan invested in the Tarsian Project.

“If the Lysithea is flying now, does that mean they’ve already finished selecting the crew?”

The Lysithea had been a hot topic among the boys in our class.

There were even a few who were seriously thinking about applying, drawn in just by the sheer grandeur of the ship. Even though it’s ridiculous—everyone knows there’s no way middle schoolers would be eligible, no matter how vague the selection criteria are.

Still, for hot-blooded middle schoolers, becoming a spaceship crew member is definitely something to dream about. Being chosen to carry your nation’s pride into space would be an incredible honor. Plus, there were even rumors that the crew would get salaries on par with top idols, so it’s no wonder people were lining up to join.

But why go through public recruitment at all?

Even for a thousand-person exploration team, wouldn’t it be faster to just pull specialists from the existing UN Space Force units around the world?

Well, the Tarsian Project has always been full of mysteries and I know I’m just a middle schooler asking questions that no one’s going to answer…

“Roughly calculated, it’s like four or five people chosen from each prefecture. Maybe… someone from our town got picked too…”

Whether being that one person is lucky or unlucky, I honestly have no idea.

When I looked back at Nagamine, she only muttered a vague, noncommittal『yeah』and looked down.

“Ah, right. You’re probably not interested in this stuff, huh, Nagamine.”

Sensing the awkward tension building, I quickly changed the subject.

“Wanna stop by the usual convenience store?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

We left through the school gate and continued talking, our conversation a bit clumsy and mismatched.

I deliberately avoided bringing up the Lysithea again and kept my eyes off the sky.

We got caught at a JR railroad crossing. Cicadas chirped in a downpour of buzzing, layered over by the high-pitched clang of the crossing bell.

A symphony of sounds that grated on the nerves and made the heat feel even more oppressive. And then there was one more sound.

A heavy rumble from above. Just as I looked up, a passing freight train blocked my view. Goton goton, goton goton.

When the train cleared, there it was—right in front of me, the Lysithea. It had dropped in altitude since before. I couldn’t gauge how high it was flying, but even though it looked bigger now, it still only seemed about the size of a pencil case.

If it’s changing altitude, maybe it’s a training flight?

Maybe it’s flying around Japan to pick up selected members?

“Let’s go”

Nagamine tugged on the sleeve of my shirt.

The crossing gate had long since lifted and the warning bells had gone silent.

***

Even when we say『after school detour』middle schoolers don’t exactly have a wide roaming range.

Still, the convenience store that helped ease our post-club hunger was one of the few sacred places for us. Same time as always, same store. Familiar faces lining up at the register. Chatter filling the air. But the moment we quit club activities, that noise started to feel annoying. So we began stopping by a convenience store a bit off our usual route.

It was that in-between time—after classes but before clubs let out. The store was quiet, nearly empty, and we hardly ever ran into anyone we knew. That secretive, slightly guilty sense of freedom was addictively pleasant.

We’d slowly circle the store once, skim through some comic magazines to catch our breath, then make a second, more deliberate round to pick out our chosen items. And now that we weren’t starving from club practice, what we usually bought was something modest—like a single can of chilled juice.

“Where should we go?”

I looked up at the sky as we left the store. In the short time we’d been inside, the Lysithea had vanished. In its place, dark clouds hung low, slowly creeping across the sky.

“Wanna head to the bus stop?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Our destination was a bus stop called 『Stairtop.』

On the way, the clouds grew even heavier, and it felt like night had suddenly fallen. Without warning, thick raindrops began pelting down.

“Let’s run!”

The asphalt, once dry and powdery-white, was instantly covered in dark spots. We sprinted full speed through the downpour.

“We’re soaked, huh.”

Choosing the bus stop as our resting spot turned out to be the right call. The stop had an old shelter with a roof—perfect for taking cover from the rain.

As we dashed into the shelter, Nagamine let out a soft giggle and sat on the bench, still panting, as she began peeling off her soaked shoes and socks. I should have been used to seeing bare legs in those short school skirts—but it was the first time I’d seen Nagamine’s feet, fully exposed right down to her toes, so close up. My heart gave a little jolt。 They were so pale it was almost sad, and so thin it felt almost fragile.

There was no one else in the shelter。 We had it all to ourselves。 Silently, we stared at the pouring rain as I poured cold juice down my dry throat.

Probably, no one else would be coming. No bus would be arriving at this stop. Technically it was still a bus stop, but the route had been discontinued a few years ago。 The company didn’t go bankrupt, but they restructured and scrapped certain routes in the name of efficiency. It was kind of a shock. No more buses coming here…I’d thought our town was at least somewhat urban.

The buses were gone, but for some reason, the stop and shelter remained.

Maybe the company didn’t want to pay the removal costs or maybe they left it because local residents asked for it as a landmark—it’s hard to say. I’d heard a rumor that cats loved using the shelter as a daytime clubhouse.

Whatever the reason, being in this shelter made it feel like time wasn’t just stopped—it was going backward. It felt like this spot had rewound itself back to late Heisei or even Showa-era Japan.

“Nagamine, you’re gonna keep doing kendo in high school, right?”

Still watching the now-light drizzle, I asked her。

“Hmm, not sure…”

“You’ve got the skill, it’d be a waste to quit. You should keep going.”

“But, unlike you, Mikako didn’t really get to shine. I think… I’m good now.”

“That’s exactly why I want you to continue. Johoku has a solid kendo club, lots of girls, and you’d definitely get your moment.”

“I’m not really looking to stand out… Plus, I really did enjoy our club in middle school…”

“The laundry and stuff…?”

“Yeah, the laundry, the cheering… So what about you, Noboru-kun? Still doing kendo?”

“Of course”

“Hmm, you say that, but I bet you just wanna be in the same club as me”

Nagamine said it with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“W-what are you talking about…!”

Half-true, honestly. As I scrambled to play it off, she smiled, looking smug, like she’d just scored a clean point against me.

***

The town after the rain was breathing peacefully, as if it had come back to life.

With Nagamine riding on the back, I pedaled through the town at dusk, the chilly air washing over my entire body.

Nagamine, who usually hated riding double, had gotten on without hesitation just for today.

I wondered what kind of face Nagamine was making right now. From the hands gently resting on my shoulders, I could faintly feel her body heat seeping through my still-damp shirt.

“The sky is beautiful.”

We looked up at the evening-glowing sky.

The clouds, the high-rise buildings, the utility poles—all were shining in a vivid shade of madder red.

The scenery I should’ve been used to looked so fresh to my eyes, as if I were seeing it for the first time. I found myself thinking, like a poet, that I wished time would just stop with this beautiful scene. But such a rare, blissful moment didn’t last long. That unpleasant, low-pitched sound once again bore down on us from above.

This time, it was even more intense. My hair stood on end, my entire body prickled with goosebumps. Unable to ignore it, I hit the brakes and stopped pedaling, scanning the sky for the Lysithea. But her white, elegant form was nowhere to be seen.

Then, a white object suddenly filled my vision, grazing just past overhead from behind.

The Lysithea was flying at ultra-low altitude.

“HUGE!”

With my mouth hanging open like an idiot, I blurted out the most uncreative thing imaginable. There was no other way to react.

Just when I thought my vision was completely filled, the Lysithea flew off at high speed toward the front. As it disappeared, the Lysithea launched black objects to both the left and right. Five on each side, ten in total, the objects traced their own paths as they followed the Lysithea.

“Tracers!”

The tracers loaded onto the Lysithea were humanoid manned probes. I’ve heard their original design was developed for Mars exploration. The ones on the Lysithea are next-generation cutting-edge models. They’re all-purpose machines capable of moving freely not only on land, sea, and air, but even in space. It’s rumored that Tarsian technology is utilized all throughout them.

“Ah, so the operator training has started after all.”

For a moment, I completely forgot that Nagamine was so close as I stared, captivated, by the tracers’ trajectories.

The tragic Mars expedition, the subsequent Tarsian shock, the Tarsian exploration mission, and the selection process for its members—all of which had felt like someone else’s business until now—suddenly began to feel very real to me.

It was then, just as I started pedaling again to follow the Lysithea.

“Noboru-kun…”

Nagamine leaned into me.

I felt hair brush against the back of my neck and sensed Nagamine’s face drawing closer.

Warm breath touched my ear and I tensed, wondering what Nagamine was about to say. But the words that came out were far removed from anything I could have imagined.

“I’m going to ride that.”

***

It probably didn’t take even five seconds to grasp the meaning of Nagamine’s words but subjectively, it felt like I’d been confused for about two hours.

I don’t clearly remember the exact sequence in which I comprehended the situation and accepted it as reality, but I’m pretty sure my first reaction was something reasonable, like, 『You’re kidding, right?』 I mean, expecting someone to believe something that sounds like a joke is a bit much.

After all, Nagamine is a junior high school girl, and it’s not like she has any remarkable intellectual or physical abilities. Why would an ordinary girl like her be chosen to pilot a Tracer?

As for the selection process, Nagamine’s explanation wasn’t exactly clear.

When I asked her directly, 『Did you volunteer?』, of course the answer was no. She said that on the first Saturday of June or so, some agent from the Ministry of Defense came to her house and persuaded her and her parents, saying,『We’d really like you to take the selection test.』Judging from the situation, it seemed her parents had already been notified beforehand.

The selection took place at the Saitama branch of the Aerospace Self-Defense Force’s PR department. She expected a tough intelligence test or physical exam, but it turned out to be a simple interview with five panelists. The whole thing ended in just about ten minutes. 『It was kind of anticlimactic』Nagamine said with a laugh. No, this is definitely not something to laugh about.

“What kind of people were there taking the test?”

“I was the only one there at that time”

And then, the acceptance notice arrived almost immediately.

『Hold on a sec』I said, taking about ten seconds to reorganize everything in my head before asking, 『Didn’t you have the right to refuse?』Nagamine answered with a blank, distant look, like it was someone else’s business: 『That didn’t even cross my mind』

According to the Tarsian Special Law, which was passed in the Diet five years ago as a special wartime provision, all citizens are obligated to cooperate as much as possible in any national project related to Tarsians. Yeah… that’s right.

If the law’s involved, maybe there really is no choice but to comply. Still, I couldn’t accept it. No matter how I looked at it, it felt unfair. Just as I was finally starting to process the situation, I began to feel angry. Partly because Nagamine had kept all of this from me. She made such an important decision without even talking to me about it…

『They said I had to keep it secret. That it might interfere with the rest of the selection process. One of the agents in black really emphasized it』Nagamine said, eyes filled with sadness. The enlistment date was still far off, but she said she couldn’t keep it to herself anymore, so she decided to tell me.

『Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t like causing a fuss…』. Apparently, she hadn’t even told her close female friends. I was the only one she made an exception for. That in itself made me happy, but when I thought about Nagamine’s future, I just couldn’t feel lighthearted about it.

I kept throwing one dumb question after another at her, and by the time it was completely dark, I had dropped Nagamine off at her high-rise apartment. When I told her with a serious look,『Anyway, take care of yourself』 she laughed and said, 『It’s not goodbye just yet.』

She already seemed to have nerves of steel.

Nagamine’s apartment building was a skyscraper, and her place was apparently near the very top. I only ever walked her as far as the front entrance, and of course, I’d never been invited inside. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know what her parents looked like. I think I heard once that both of them work at the prefectural office. I also knew she was an only child. Nagamine and I went to different elementary schools, and we weren’t in the same class until third year of middle school. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I actually knew about her.

***

On the way back from Nagamine’s apartment, I found myself bothered by the fact that I didn’t know what her parents looked like. I couldn’t imagine what kind of expressions they wore when they heard about her enlistment. Did they congratulate her with smiles? Or did they comfort her with sorrowful faces?

That night, my mind was too full to focus on studying for exams, let alone sleep. I didn’t even know what kind of face I should make when I saw Nagamine in class the next day. Either way, there weren’t many days left until summer vacation. It didn’t seem all that hard to keep her secret.

What I ultimately started thinking about was what I could do.

What could I do for Nagamine?

While trying to figure out something concrete, I realized how little I actually knew about the Tarsian Exploration Team she was joining.

I thought I’d just look it up in the school library, but I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. So I accessed an information service site on my phone and started collecting all the related info I could find. No matter how I searched, I couldn’t find the selection criteria. What I did find out was that the training for the chosen members would take place at the Mars base next spring.

Mars!

Nagamine, going to Mars!

It felt more surreal than ever.

I kept wondering if I was still being tricked somehow.

But Nagamine isn’t the kind of girl who jokes about stuff like that. She’s probably really going.

So, if she’s going to Mars, where will she go from there? Where did the Tarsians come from in the first place?

Of course, I know the answer. The team was formed to find out because no one knows. But ever since that tragic incident with the Tarsis Ruins survey team, the Tarsians haven’t shown themselves—not on Earth and not even on Mars. So why bother going out of our way to look for them?

Besides, how long will a journey to find aliens who may not even exist last? When will Nagamine, now caught up in this expedition, be able to return to Earth?

It was only then that I started to truly understand the meaning behind her words and actions from earlier in the day.

Not only were we not going to the same high school—by the time I started high school, Nagamine would be off somewhere in the far reaches of space. There’d be no school in space, no kendo club, not even a convenience store to stop by on the way home. It was a simple truth I had only just realized.

Still, it’s not like she’d be gone forever. Nagamine would come back soon.

She’d definitely be back soon.

…Soon. When is that?

Sometime during my first year of high school?

Or…

***

In the end, I went to school the next day with a miserable, sleep-deprived face.

But surprisingly, Nagamine wasn’t in class. She was absent that day. Worried that she might’ve caught a cold from yesterday’s rain, I sent her a message during break. But there was no reply. I texted her again after school. Still no response.

The next day was the last day of the first semester.

Nagamine still didn’t show up.

I thought about visiting her apartment on the way home but couldn’t bring myself to do it.

No matter how many times I messaged her, I never got a reply. What was going on? Maybe she had gone on a farewell trip with her family?

I should’ve asked about her enlistment date. But there’s no way it would be before finishing compulsory education, right? There’s still the second and third terms. No need to rush. I’d have more chances to see her, more opportunities to say what I needed to say.

Say what I needed to say?

Words of encouragement like 『Take care』?

A thank you for helping with club activities?

Or something even more important?

At the very least, I had to say goodbye.

And maybe a small send-off party with close friends.

But all those thoughts of mine were completely betrayed.

I got a message from Nagamine for the first time in a while on the fifth day of summer break. It was sent from aboard the Lysithea, in lunar orbit.