Chapter 3 – 3 April 2047 – Johoku High School

【Noboru-kun,

I’m sorry for disappearing so suddenly.

Right now, Mikako is at the lunar base camp.

I really meant to say goodbye properly but the pickup came with no warning at all.

The night of the day we took shelter from the rain and walked home together, that agent showed up. He told me I had one hour to get ready—can you believe it? So unreasonable, right?

Even my parents were outraged. They said that wasn’t fair.

I hurriedly stuffed a change of clothes into my bag and before I knew it, I was in their car, headed toward the Saitama Space Self-Defense Force base.

I honestly thought I’d be saying goodbye to everyone after the graduation ceremony. It’s awful, right?

But… looking back, maybe it was better that I was taken away so suddenly, like I was being abducted. I don’t think I could’ve handled counting down the days in secret, waiting for enlistment while pretending everything was normal.

And if it had come down to actually saying goodbye, I know I would’ve cried. And if I cried, I would’ve begged not to go—throwing a fit like a spoiled child.

Anyway, Mikako has officially enlisted.

And surprisingly, I’m doing fine.

After a quick registration at the Saitama base, I was handed my issued gear, stuffed onto an early morning shuttle without even sleeping, stayed overnight at the Moon Station, and just four days after my 『abduction』I arrived at the UN Space Force’s base camp on the Sea of Serenity.

We had orientation right away, and now that I’ve finally been released into my own room, I’m writing this message to you, Noboru-kun.

Of course, I messaged my parents first.

I hope it reached them.

Well, I already confirmed in the message to them that mail can be sent even from the Moon. But from now on, with the fleet constantly on the move, messages will be relayed through different satellites, so the ones you send might not always get through.

But don’t worry. I’ll make sure to write you often.

I’ll keep you updated about where I am and what I’m doing, so you don’t have to worry.

As for Mikako’s upcoming schedule—training starts tomorrow.

I’ll be taking lectures to become a proper Tracer Operator. I wonder when I’ll actually get to ride the real thing?

Anyway, enjoy your summer vacation.

Oh—right, your entrance exams are coming up.

Don’t overdo it, okay? Take care of your health.

And try not to eat too many cold things, either.

Aim for that dream school! Fight on!

That’s all for now.

From your abducted, beautiful Mikako】

***

Whether it was forced cheer or if she was genuinely elated, the email I received from Nagamine had an oddly high-energy tone.

Still, whatever the circumstances, I was relieved she’d managed to enlist safely.

I immediately wrote back.

It’s true that the range of mobile communications now extends into space. It’s not a special feature—any standard cellphone can communicate between Earth and space.

Logically, I understood that. But as an ordinary middle schooler, I’d never had a chance to try out that function before. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever had a pen pal living in space.

But I do know now that over thirty thousand people are working in space on a permanent basis.

That said, humanity has only just recently begun venturing beyond the Moon, and even those who『work in space』are mostly limited to the so-called space stations floating around low Earth orbit, and facilities on the lunar surface.

There are all kinds of reasons for using space—military objectives, scientific research, medical applications, tourism and entertainment, private-sector R&D for new materials, film shoots, even as broadcasting bases for media outlets…

But recently, it seems military use has taken priority above all.

Since the Tarsian Shock, there’s been heightened concern for secure space routes and civilian shuttle flights have been strictly limited in number. One after another, private lunar and orbital facilities were bought out by the UN and converted into military space installations.

At the same time, the advanced scientific technology derived from the artifacts excavated at the Tarsis Ruins was immediately applied to space development, leading to rapid innovation. But the more space tech advanced, the more distant space became for ordinary people like us. All the cutting-edge tech was monopolized by NASA and the U.S.-led United Nations Space Force, and none of it was made public.

Information about space was subject to tighter and tighter control, gradually pushed farther and farther from public view.

Among all the restricted information related to space, only news about the Tarsian Exploration Team was actively distributed—and even relatively unregulated. It might’ve been a deliberate leak—meant to imprint in people’s minds across the world that『we humans are constantly under threat from the Tarsians.』

…And so, the email from Nagamine made space feel very close and real to me.

Even though I knew the message would logically reach the Moon, sending an email out there was something I’d never done before. Would it really go through? Right after I hit send late that night, I rushed outside and looked up at the sky. A thin crescent moon, maybe three days old, was peeking shyly from a low point in the sky.

That’s when it truly hit me—Nagamine had gone far, far away.

──Nagamine is really out there… in a place like that.

But what I felt most intensely wasn’t fear or concern for her safety. It was the sheer distance between us. I didn’t really think much about how she must have been feeling—suddenly thrown into a completely unfamiliar environment, forced to live a life nothing like what she’d known just the day before.

***

Over the next six months, we kept encouraging each other in a good way, exchanging emails regularly.

One of us was aiming to become a Tracer pilot, the other a high school student. We praised each other’s daily efforts and cheered each other on.

But to be honest, I had mixed feelings.

It wasn’t something as simple as not being able to see her in person.

While I worried about Nagamine’s safety, I also felt envious of her—and at times, even resentful.

What Nagamine was doing might’ve been tough but it was admirable work, supported by a noble mission of contributing to humanity. Compared to that, what I was doing—just working toward my own personal future—felt plain and insignificant. On top of that, Nagamine’s future was already secured, while I didn’t even have a guarantee that I’d make it into high school.

Must be nice… I’d honestly find myself thinking that—Nagamine’s got it made.

And when I was desperately cramming English vocabulary, fighting with my flashcards and my phone would suddenly buzz with a new message, I couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed—give me a break, I’d think.

Training routines and her results for the day. Reflections and self-critiques. Dinner menus and her personal taste ratings. Gossip about the instructors and their nicknames. The view of Earth from the Moon, and Nagamine’s own weather forecasts based on cloud movements…

But no matter the topic, none of it had anything to do with me as a student preparing for exams—it was all irrelevant and useless.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was just after the new year, with less than two months left until the entrance exams. I was the one who suggested we take a break from emailing for a while. It was selfish of me. I felt like a narrow-minded person—and I hated myself for it.

I didn’t want to blame the emails with Nagamine, but… maybe they had been a distraction from focusing on exam prep. Though even the final push before the test didn’t bring much in the way of results.

By the time exam day arrived, I was in a mood of just throwing my hands up and saying whatever happens, happens. And in the end, somehow, things worked out—and I passed the entrance exam to my first-choice school.

***

Spring came, and I officially became a high school student.

Maybe it was Nagamine’s encouraging emails that helped, I thought—conveniently framing it that way for myself.

Honestly, what a self-serving guy I am.

I wasn’t exactly sure whether her training on the lunar surface was still ongoing or not, but I figured I should at least let her know that I passed, so I sent a short message addressed to the base camp. However, that message never reached Nagamine. She had already left the lunar camp and was now aboard the Lysthea, heading to the next training site. Just a little misfire in email delivery timing.

But Nagamine had remembered the day of my exam results and from inside the Lysthea, sent me a short message the next day asking whether I had passed. I replied right away.

Then from Nagamine came a reply so incredibly long it couldn’t even fit in my phone’s memory—as if she was trying to make up for the two-month silence all at once.

Each part of the message had a date, like a diary. She must’ve been writing them bit by bit every day. The entries grew longer with each passing day.

Between getting ready for school and settling in, it took me three full days to read through it all. I started writing several replies, but left them half-finished and eventually ended up going to the entrance ceremony without sending any of them. I ended up scrapping all the drafts and just sent a short message saying I’d safely become a high school student. I added a note:『I’ll tell you more about high school life in the next message.』

Seriously, what a guy with no sincerity.

Before I had even passed my exams, Nagamine had already successfully completed her basic training on the Moon.

Walking, running, diving, rising, standing, kicking, jumping, turning, stopping, grabbing, pushing, pulling, throwing, thrusting, swinging, slashing, crushing… She had been thoroughly drilled in all the fundamental Tracer maneuvers and with excellent results, it seemed she had officially earned recognition as a full-fledged Tracer pilot.

As expected from a group hand-picked from across the world, it appeared that most of the trainees had mastered Tracer operation. That said, it wasn’t as if no one had washed out. There were trainees who got injured in training accidents, others who suffered from poor performance and fell into depression, leading to their return to Earth. Some couldn’t bear the intensity of the training and even attempted to flee the camp.

Hearing stories like that made me think—maybe Nagamine really was the right person for the job. Her perseverance had already been proven back in middle school through our club activities.

***

With the enrollment procedures finally out of the way—purchasing textbooks and a commuter pass, filling out paperwork and other tedious tasks—I started remembering the names of my homeroom teacher, subject teachers, and classmates bit by bit. As I slowly settled into the new environment and lifestyle, I finally found the mental space to write Nagamine a long email.

By that time, Nagamine had already completed her transfer to Mars and had begun the next phase of training.

From her daily messages, I could tell that her training was becoming more intense—and that the content was increasingly focused on combat scenarios.

A vague sense of unease began to creep into my thoughts.

What exactly was the point of training a thousand Tracer pilots?

Officially, Tracers were developed as all-environment exploration vehicles for planetary missions, but depending on the optional equipment, they took on a far more combat-oriented form.

If they were to encounter the Tarsians, would that lead to actual combat? Was Nagamine and the others being trained as soldiers for that very possibility?

Yes… when I really think about it, the selected members like Nagamine were under the command of the United Nations Space Force.

Would the Tarsian Exploration Team really be able to find the Tarsians?

It’s hard to say the possibility is zero.

That’s largely because of the existence of shortcut anchors—and the fact that the UN Space Force knows the locations of several of them.

It’s believed the Tarsians came to Mars via one of these shortcut anchors.

If that’s the case, then by tracing those paths back, we might eventually reach their point of origin.

By the way, shortcut anchors are essentially warp gates that link two points in space. Their existence was first discovered shortly after the Tarsian attack, appearing as mobile singularities near Mars’ orbital path. They remained classified until recently. Once one was found, the assumption was that others existed too, and using newly developed ships based on Tarsian tech, an active hunt for shortcut anchors within the solar system began.

Probably—and this is just my guess—but the reason a full-scale Tarsian investigation is only starting now, six years after the initial attack, is because the necessary tools have finally been developed. In other words, shortcut anchors have been found beyond our solar system, and now they’re trying to probe even deeper into what lies beyond.

… Fuu.

Even Mars, where Nagamine is now, feels incredibly far away. But beyond the solar system? That’s a kind of distance that’s hard to even imagine—no, to be honest, I can’t picture it at all.

The Tarsian Exploration Team, with its ten ships and one thousand crew, is really preparing to launch into the far reaches of space.

If that’s the case, then when will Nagamine return to Earth?

Of course, even if the destination is unimaginably far, shortcut anchors are effectively instant transit, so time-wise it might not be that far off. But what concerns me are the rumors: supposedly, all shortcut anchors are one-way only. In other words, there’s no return ticket.

To begin with, there’s still a lot we don’t understand about shortcut anchors.

It’s almost certain they’re artificial singularities, but they’re probably not just tunnels punched into space. There must be some kind of external control system—but how those are maintained and operated is still completely unknown. The whole thing boils down to,『We don’t understand how it works, but here’s a convenient shortcut, so let’s try using it.』

To make matters worse, even though several shortcut anchors have been found, there are apparently no confirmed manned tests yet. So far, only probe balls loaded with transmitters have been sent through. If they make it somewhere safely, they’re supposed to send back a signal. But since that signal travels at the speed of light, there are some probes we’ve never heard back from—we still don’t know where they ended up.

That means, for any shortcut anchor without a known exit point, there’s absolutely no guarantee of safety. Even for those where an exit has been identified, it’s only because a machine happened to arrive in one piece—no one can definitively say whether something fragile, like a human passenger, would make it safely through.

In other words, Nagamine and the others will be charging straight into the tunnel with no trial run.

Oi,oi,oi, seriously? Is that really okay?

And even if they do make it somewhere safe, what about the way back?

A slow return trip? Well, even if you call it『slow』 they’d still be using the Lysithea, one of the newest ships, so they’d be coming back at sub-light speed…

***

【Nagamine, are you doing well?

I’ve gotten pretty used to Johoku High School.

I just received your last message from the Mars base.

I stayed behind in the classroom after school.

I’m replying right now so it reaches you before your departure.

That said, there’s nothing urgent I absolutely need to tell you.

Ah, the reason I’m staying behind alone in the classroom is because I’m still unsure about which club to join. I have to submit my choice by today.

I had intended to continue kendo, but I’m feeling a little torn.

It’s not that I’m bored with it, but I want to try exploring other possibilities.

I just peeked in at a practice, but the archery club… kind of looked interesting. I feel like someone might scold me for being inconsistent.

Next is Jupiter’s Europa base, huh?

Of course, I knew the UN Space Force had advanced into Jupiter too, but I had no idea there was a base on Europa—that’s news to me.

Isn’t that kind of classified information?

I’m a bit nervous that I might start getting censored emails full of blacked-out words soon. (Just kidding) I’m praying you arrive safely on Europa.

That’s all for now.

Aiming to become a stealth swordsman…Terao Noburu】

***

【Noboru-kun,

Right now, I’m on Europa.

It hasn’t been officially announced yet, but I don’t think I’ll be here for long. Most of the surface training was apparently completed at the Mars camp, so here on Europa, it looks like we’ll mostly be doing launch and landing training.

And actually, training combined with active duty has already started.

We’re split into five teams rotating every four hours.

There are ten launch catapults for the Tracers mounted on the ship’s sides.

So, twenty people wait in their Tracers, ready to go at any time. I don’t think anything will happen, but we get sudden deployment orders as part of the drills.

Right now, actually, I’m on duty.

I’m tense, since we could get the launch order at any moment.

This is as far as the relay base goes.

But even though we call it a base, it’s just a floating station—there’s no camp set up on the surface, so we never disembark from the ship.

Life on the ship kind of feels like being trapped in a city office, forced to work 24/7. It can be a little suffocating, but I’ve managed to find some ways to enjoy it.

Like I mentioned before, I’ve made some friends too.

Oh, don’t worry. My friend is a girl named Satomi-san, she’s two years older than me.

Though actually, the whole crew is made up of girls.

But since I’m the youngest, maybe they’re just treating me like the rookie no one takes seriously.

While we’re in transit, our movement is restricted—we’re mostly just going back and forth between our rooms and the lunchroom. We’re not even allowed to look outside.

But since we’re currently docked, those restrictions are lifted. I’m using my free time to admire the view of Jupiter. It never gets boring, seeing it up close. The intensely hot gas clouds swirl around dynamically, and the striped patterns on the surface constantly change. It’s beautiful.

Oh, and I saw the flux tube too. That massive bolt of lightning stretching from Jupiter to Io—it was incredible.

So you joined the archery club, Noboru-kun?

I wonder, are there lots of girls in the archery club? Archery is a pretty popular sport among girls, after all.

If things had gone differently, Mikako would’ve been attending Johoku High School with you, huh?

Sometimes, like now, when I’m all alone inside my Tracer, I suddenly wonder, 『Where am I?』 or 『What am I doing in a place like this?』

Maybe it’s just a bit of homesickness.

Our next destination is probably Pluto.

I’m getting further and further away from you, Noboru-kun.

Well then, until next time—from Pluto (maybe).

From homesick Mikako.】

***

【How are you doing?

It’s true—the archery club is completely ruled by the girls.

As a lowerclassman, I’m like a borrowed cat, just shrinking into the background.

Soon, I’ll be facing my first real challenge in high school—the midterm exams. Compared to middle school, the material in every subject has gotten way tougher. I don’t think cramming the night before is going to help much this time.

Some people around me are taking it easy but others have already gotten serious, eyes sharp, thinking about college entrance exams right from the start. As for me, I haven’t really thought about the future at all yet.

Nagamine, you don’t seem to be doing so well.

Don’t overthink it too much, alright?

Tell me what Pluto is like when you get the chance.

I’m looking forward to your report.

Say hi to Satomi-san for me.

Future undecided… Terao Noboru】

***

Somehow or other, I’m enjoying high school life.

I’ve become absorbed in the everyday routine of a high schooler.

Nagamine is out there, far away in space, living a military life.

What exactly is the relationship between us?

The distance between us keeps growing and the time we can’t see each other just passes by without mercy.

A classmate who suddenly transferred far away and disappeared from the classroom one day. Is that what Nagamine is to me? We keep exchanging letters for a while, but little by little, we run out of things to talk about. Eventually, the gaps between our replies grow longer, and one day, without either of us meaning to, we stop writing altogether. Will that happen with Nagamine too?

But… I feel like it’s not just that.

At the very least, right now—Nagamine needs me.

And I…