The simulator monitor displayed the number 42. Primus Block—the training facility where 36 HSS simulators stood in rows—already felt tense despite the early hour. The pod's cooling system hummed low, and the glow of instruments cast a pale blue light across two faces. Yuri Brake stood with his arms crossed, looking up at the monitor. This man, known as a hero of the Helios Conflict, never wasted words. Sharp eyes read the data, and he opened his mouth quietly. "[serious]You've crossed the forced reorganization threshold" Kaito sat on the edge of the pod, gazing at the ceiling. He remembered the number 23 from two weeks ago. Starting from that terrible first impression, squeezed by Yuri every single day—and finally, 42. "[serious]But there's still a cliff between here and the 60 required for active deployment" "[excited]Then we just aim for 60 next, right?" Beside him, Seira quickly operated her terminal. Short semi-long hair, asymmetrical clips on the left side. Gray eyes scanned the data swiftly. "[serious]Based on current synchro rate progression, the probability of reaching 60 with 8.3 more days of training is... 32%" "[excited]32% is totally doable" Seira's eyes narrowed to slits. "[sarcastic]...Your sense of probability is significantly off from the norm" Yuri looked at both of them. His eyebrows rose slightly. For once, his face held something like contemplation. "[serious]...You two. The way you call out to each other has changed since two weeks ago" For a moment, the air stopped. Kaito and Seira turned in opposite directions simultaneously. Perfect timing. Kaito toward the ceiling, Seira toward her terminal screen. Yuri watched them for about three seconds, then closed his briefing materials without another word. "[serious]Put your all into the tournament at summer camp" --- They arrived at the joint summer camp venue in College Ring's colony just before noon. The vast practical exercise field—a mock battle area using an entire section of the colony—was packed with candidates from other schools. Different uniform colors. Different faces. But every single one of them had eyes sharper than you'd expect for their age. The moment the tournament bracket was posted, Kaito and Seira approached together to look up at it. Next to "Amami Kaito & Kenjo Seira" was written the name of their opponent—Arase & Yagami. Murmurs spread around them. "Those two are facing an ace pair in the first round?" "Arase is ranked second in the year. And his partner Yagami—he's a monster as an operator" "...Poor things" Kaito heard it. He heard all of it. But he didn't care. Seira opened her terminal and calculated swiftly. "[serious]I've cross-referenced the Arase-Yagami pair's data. Our win probability is... 17%" Kaito grinned. "[excited]17% is plenty" Seira looked up from her terminal. Her mouth opened, and she started to say something— "[gentle]That baseless confidence... I don't hate it" Half a second of silence. Seira's face turned red in real time. "[surprised]I-I'm retracting that! I meant to say that optimism without data is dangerous, that's all!" Seira buried her face in her terminal. Her ears were completely red. Kaito laughed. "[laughing]You were more honest before the correction" "[angry]I'm preparing for the match!" Seira walked off quickly. Kaito watched her back, still suppressing his laughter, but noticed something strange stirring deep in his chest. (Why am I—) He stopped thinking and started walking too. --- The buzzer for match start sounded. The moment it did, Arase's machine moved. Fast. Acceleration that didn't match a standard Regnos Mk-IV. Three-round bursts cut off Kaito's approach with perfect accuracy. Warning alarms screamed continuously in the cockpit. (If I keep this up, I'll be pushed back. But if I retreat, Yagami will lock down my calculations—) Instinct flashed. Reverse charge. "[serious]Let's go!" That instant—Seira's voice shot into his ear. "[serious]Left 3 degrees correction—ignite verniers in 0.8 seconds!" He didn't hesitate. Not for a second. Kaito moved his machine in sync with Seira's voice. Through the neural link, the trajectory she calculated flowed directly into his mind. He could somehow see exactly where he'd be in one second. "[serious]Right 10 degrees—now!" Kaito didn't shout. He just moved. Arase's machine pursued. But it was slow. Kaito's irregular maneuvers kept shifting the line Yagami's defensive calculations predicted by 0.8 seconds each time. Seira calculated that margin of error, predicted ahead, and fed in corrections. They meshed. For the first time, truly like a single organism. The moment Kaito's machine slipped into Arase's blind spot— "[excited]Fire!" The paint round hit directly. The simulator announced "Hit confirmed." Arase's machine display blinked, and the match-end lamp lit. The arena stirred. Kaito burst from the cockpit. Seira emerged from the rear seat. Their eyes met. "[excited]Yeah!!" Kaito raised his hand. In the shape of a high-five. Seira hesitated for just a moment—then brought her hand to meet his. A dry sound. Slap. In that instant, perhaps because traces of the neural link still lingered, something flowed through. Not words. Pure emotion. Simple, childlike, unguarded—pure joy. Something in Kaito's chest pulsed hard. He looked at Seira's face without thinking. Seira had already pulled out her notebook. Straight-faced. "[serious]Synchro rate increased during Case 3's irregular charge. Causal analysis is necessary" Kaito's expression became half-amused. He started to say "You really are—" and stopped. He noticed his own chest was still pounding. (Why am I—) He swallowed the words and scratched his head awkwardly. --- The semifinals were the next afternoon. Their opponents were a strong pair from another school. Rumors said their synchro rate exceeded 50. The match was grueling. They were cornered multiple times. But the two of them breathed deeper than yesterday, Seira's calculations compensated for Kaito's instinct, and there were moments where Kaito's movements surpassed Seira's calculations. "[serious]Gap on the right flank!" "[excited]I see it!" When the post-match synchro rate monitor showed 50, the other candidates stirred. "...I heard that pair had a synchro rate of 23 two weeks ago" "What? Seriously? And now it's 50?" Kaito felt a ticklish sensation hearing those voices. Seira pretended not to hear, but her ears were slightly red. Advancement to finals. --- That night, Kaito's terminal chimed as he walked through a corridor. It was from Seira. "Could you come to the back of the training grounds? I'm... a little scared being alone" Kaito stared at his terminal for three seconds. —A little scared. Kenjo Seira saying that. He rushed over. The corridor behind the hangar was narrow, and the colony's lighting system cast pseudo-moonlight across it. White, soft light fell in thin shadows on the floor. Seira stood there. Still in her uniform, looking down slightly. When Kaito approached, Seira looked up. Her gray eyes seemed less composed than usual. "[gentle]...Promise me" Kaito listened silently. "[gentle]That we both come back safe from tomorrow's finals" That voice was nothing like her usual tone. Not the calm, monotone voice she used reading regulations. Not the detached voice when reporting data. It was smaller, more awkward—her real voice. Kaito couldn't speak. Seira continued. "[gentle]The data is harsh, but... I believe in your instinct" She stepped forward. In the darkness, Seira's fingertips brushed faintly against Kaito's hand. One second. Two seconds. Neither moved. Seira suddenly stiffened. "[surprised]G-good night!" She hurried away. Her footsteps disappeared down the corridor. Kaito stood frozen, his face burning red. The sensation in his hand wouldn't fade. Pseudo-moonlight illuminated the floor in white. Beyond the colony, space stretched silent and vast, stars unmoving. (I... feel that way about her...) Kaito looked at his own hand. Something inside his chest, 90% formed, stirred quietly. --- The finals the next day. Their opponents were an ace pair undefeated for three years. Their coordination was nearly perfect. Kaito's irregular maneuvers matched completely with Seira's calculations, and the synchro rate stayed high throughout the match. But their opponent's three years of experience were real. Three years of accumulation couldn't be overcome by two weeks of special training. It was close. So close. The synchro rate monitor showed 58 after the match. Carmilla Lette, watching from the stands with her arms crossed, let the corner of her mouth rise slightly. A rare expression. Her sleepy eyes narrowed just a bit. "[gentle]...Almost there" That was all. But Kaito understood what it meant that those words came from Carmilla. Kaito felt genuine regret. Real regret. But at the same time—the sensation of last night's touch occupied his mind again, and he couldn't look at Seira's face properly. Seira opened her terminal and said "I'll analyze the causes of our finals loss," but glanced sideways at Kaito. Her expression held something softer than analysis. Kaito didn't notice. Only the reader did. --- That night, in room 3-217 of the boys' dormitory, Kaito stared at the ceiling. (I feel that way about her—) He started to put it into words, then stopped. Thought again, stopped again. Stuck at 90%, unable to cross that final 10%. At that same moment, elsewhere in the colony— A communications officer in the academy's signal room frowned at received data. In the quiet room, a terminal alert sounded softly. "Training sector... multiple instances of unidentified radio interference detected across sectors 7 through 12. Pattern irregular. Signal source unidentifiable" The report flowed quietly up the chain of command. Kaito and Seira didn't know.