Archive of Our Own

10:00 AM

"Have you any regrets in life, young man?"

Theo looked up from his sketchbook. Understandably, he took a little longer than usual to process the question, though not for some deep, introspective reason.

For starters, he had no idea who it was that was speaking to him. The man was sitting beside him on the park bench, looking as though he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary.

Theo didn't remember seeing him approach.

He looked like some sort of salesman. He had the standard white-collar business wear, neat and free of wrinkles, his green eyes bright with curiosity. The only thing disorderly about his appearance was his hair–red and unruly. He had a cheery sort of smile, the kind marketers wore that drew people in and had everyone pulling out their wallets.

His age was harder to place–thirties, maybe. Just young enough to still find joy in his job, which he probably did. All these details made the question he'd asked even odder, and Theo didn't know what to make of it.

"I take it you don't, then?" he asked when Theo didn't reply.

"Uh…I guess everyone has regrets," Theo said slowly.

He'd gotten up early to get a little sketching done before being called to attend the next briefing, but it seemed instead he was going to have to chat with this guy–at least until he got to the sales pitch.

The salesman nodded. "Right, right. Things we should have said, places we should have gone…the list goes on and on." He started fiddling with his wristwatch. "So, what do you think is the best way to…'shorten' that list? Settle your debts, so to speak."

The man seemed set on having this conversation, so Theo decided to go along with it and took a moment to think.

He tilted his head back, watching the birds soar overhead. "Well, regret is basically wishing that you could go back and do something in your life differently, right?" Everyone had something like that, Theo included.

He shrugged, lacing his hands behind his head. "But that's never gonna happen. No one can turn back time. The sooner you put it past you, the sooner you can move on to other things."

Thinking about it, regret was just another form of self-pity. It was inevitable–everyone ended up regretting something in their lives sooner or later–but most people chose to wallow in it, which was pointless. He'd learned that lesson well enough, back in the Eighty-Sixth Sector.

The man tilted his head thoughtfully. "Ah, is that how you see it? Look forward, never back. Doing otherwise causes unnecessary pain. That's what you're saying?"

It was, though maybe not in as many words. Theo wondered when exactly the guy would get to his point, if he had one. Weren't salesmen supposed to sell things? Or was he one of those weird "self-help" gurus?

"So to you," the salesman–guru?–went on, "much of the past isn't worth dwelling on, because it can't be revisited. But what if it could be?"

So that's his angle.

Theo folded his arms. "I'm not really a what-if kinda guy. Sorry." Call it unimaginative for an artist, but it was a behavior many of his fellow Eighty-Six adopted to keep from losing themselves in that hell-on-earth.

If he got to thinking about the what-ifs, then he'd start thinking about the what-could-have-beens, and then the what-should-have-beens, all the way down the line. He'll start thinking about all the things he should have gotten, but didn't. And that had a way of wearing a person down until there was nothing left of them but regret.

What happened, happened. And that was all there was to it.

"I see." The man nodded once. Theo's response had been curt and uncompromising, but he looked perfectly happy with it. In fact, his smile actually grew.

He pushed himself to his feet. Or more accurately, sprang to his feet. "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of. We all avoid questions we don't want to answer."

Theo stiffened. "I'm saying there's nothing to answer," he growled. The condescension was not lost on him. "I don't do hypotheticals, get it? Find someone else to practice your pitch on."

The man laughed, apparently unbothered by Theo's growing hostility. "'Hypotheticals'. This will be quite fun." And just as quickly as he came, he took his leave, disappearing down the street.

Theo wasn't sure what to make of anything from that conversation, but he suspected that dwelling on it would only heighten his annoyance.

He shut his book and stood up to stretch, aiming to put it all behind him, as he did with most things. Good riddance.

Still, better head back to base before some other weirdo showed up. Grethe probably wouldn't mind too much, but Willem was sure to give him an earful if he arrived late to the briefing.

11:54 AM

Theo finished straightening his tie and military jacket before leaving his room, pausing only to give himself a cursory glance in the mirror.

On his way to the briefing room, he met up with Shin and Raiden.

"Cutting it a little close there, Theo," Raiden said casually.

"Come on, it's not like I'm late or anything," Theo retorted, rolling his eyes. "It starts at noon, remember?"

"And to Willem, that means we're already late," Shin said. He looked around the deserted passageway. "I'm a little surprised you got here before Kurena and Anju," he remarked. Kurena was one thing, but Anju always made sure they arrived with time to spare.

They'd all gone to town earlier that day, but for once, the girls weren't the first ones back.

Raiden rubbed the back of his head, as if also realizing this. "Should we go check on them?"

"Looks like there's no need," Theo said, pointing. The other boys followed his gaze and saw the aforementioned pair of girls speeding down the hall.

It was only when they reached the boys did Anju explain the situation, though she was slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry. I was taking care of something in town earlier and I ran into Kurena on the way back. I think we both let time get away from us."

"Did you get that business taken care of, at least?" Shin asked.

"Something like that," Anju said after a moment. Ignoring Shin's curious look, Anju clapped her hands together. "Shall we go inside?"

"Alright, then," Raiden said, and Theo nodded.

"And if Willem has a fit, we can just say it's Kurena's fault this time," the blond suggested with a smirk. Kurena, who'd been pouting moments before, recovered just enough to shoot him a glare.

11:59 AM

Shin, who was at the front, led them the last few yards to the meeting room and placed his hand on the door handle. "Let's try not to piss him off though, alright?"

The actions of subordinates affected their superiors, after all. Shin wasn't too bothered, but it would reflect poorly on Lena if they acted up all the time. Knowing her, she was sure to give them an earful about it.

…If she ever got around to talking to him again. That night in Wald was still fresh in his mind, even though it had been days already. He forced the scene to the back of his mind. He couldn't let himself be distracted by that.

For now, he and the others had to get through this meeting. And then…maybe he could figure something out. Carefully schooling his face into a perfectly neutral expression, Shin turned the handle.

12:00 PM

He stared. The door was wide open, hiding nothing from view. And yet, Shin didn't quite understand what he was seeing.

"Hey, Shin," Theo called from somewhere behind him. "You gonna let us in sometime or what?"

Shin didn't answer. Instead he stepped into the room, clearing the doorway for the rest to see. He heard their confused murmuring even as he walked around.

"Huh?"

"The hell?"

"This is the right room, right?"

Logically, yes, but there was no way it could be. This room was small, and everything from the torn furniture to the broken glass windows said it had clearly seen better days. The worn wooden floorboards creaked underfoot, and light–sunlight?–filtered through several holes in the walls.

A thin layer of dust covered every surface, making the air feel stale. Shin ran his finger along a countertop and examined the residue that stuck to it. His eyes narrowed upon realizing that his earlier assumption was incorrect. This wasn't dust.

It was gunpowder.

By this time, his friends were all in the room with him, trying to make sense of things just as he was.

"Are they messing with us or something?" Raiden asked aloud. "What's all this?"

"I don't know," Shin said, turning, "but you can bet that'll be the first thing I ask when we–" He paused.

The door they had come through was still open, but not only was it wood instead of metal, it didn't lead back into the hall at all. All Shin saw was the inside of a storage closet, its shelves completely bare.

Eyes wide, Kurena hurriedly shut the door and flung it open again–only to reveal the same empty interior.

"That's not good," she whispered.

"Really?" Theo grumbled sarcastically.

"Let's all keep calm," Anju said before Kurena could respond. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this." She looked at Shin, and he saw his own concern reflected in her eyes. "Let's go outside. We should see where we are first."

Shin nodded. "Find our bearings before anything else." The others fell into step behind him as he crossed the room and reached for the other door. Inhaling quietly, he turned the knob and pulled it open.

Sunlight flooded the room, momentarily blinding. When his eyes finally adjusted, Shin found that he was standing in an abandoned street. The house he just left was one of many, all in an equal state of disrepair.

A neighborhood.

The only sound to be heard was the rustle of the trees in the wind, and that of their own footsteps as the group fanned out on either side of him. No one spoke, and he knew why.

"This place feels…familiar," Shin heard Raiden say to himself. He knew what he meant. This wasn't any place they'd seen in Giad; no residential area would be wholly deserted like this, or look so much like a warzone.

Yet none could shake the odd feeling they had, something like nostalgia but not nearly as pleasant.

Kurena was the one to put it into words. "It almost feels…like the Eighty-Sixth Sector."

That was it. They'd come across many abandoned neighborhoods just like this during their patrols, after all. But there was more to it than that. Shin took another look at the trees, and his eyes narrowed. "Aren't those cherry blossoms?"

It wasn't immediately apparent, with them having green leaves instead of the signature pink petals, but the five of them had spent enough time among nature to recognize the trees even when they weren't in bloom.

"They are," mused Anju.

And that wasn't all. Shin was sure he'd walked this road before, scouring the nearby buildings for supplies along with his old squadron. That was when they'd gotten the idea.

Shin exchanged a glance with Raiden, and knew he had also pieced it together.

"Call me crazy," Raiden began, "but isn't this where we had that flower viewing party a while back?"

Kuena's eyes widened, and she spun in a circle, taking in all her surroundings. Then she gasped. "He's right!" She pointed to her left. "That's the old fountain we went to see with Lecca, Anju! And way down that way is–"

"The old cherry blossom road," Anju finished, her voice even softer than usual. "That's where I…where we…" She fell silent, her hands over her chest.

Shin frowned slightly when he saw that they were trembling.

Theo put his fists on his hips, his brow creased. "Any chance we're all hallucinating at the same time or something?"

"Can that happen?" Raiden asked.

"Hell if I know. But what else is there?"

While the four of them discussed possibilities, Shin closed his eyes and focused. Yes, he could still hear them. That was nothing new; the voices of the Legion were always present, even in his sleep.

But there was something different about these voices. They weren't in the same positions they'd been in this morning. It was like everything had somehow shifted without him knowing.

Shin opened his eyes. It wasn't possible, obviously. But, what if…

Then he heard it. They all did. The frequent, metallic thuds of a many legged machine, a sound they couldn't forget even if they wanted to. All conversation died as the vehicle came into view, heading towards them.

Light, thinly armored, and scratched up from many, many battles. As if just catching sight of them, it stopped dead in its tracks. There was no mistaking it.

A Juggernaut.

And as the five soldiers stared in disbelief, its speaker crackled to life, and a youthful, feminine voice spoke in astonishment.

"Woah," it cried. "Could've sworn this place was empty."

Theo stepped back, jaw hanging. "That's…"

Anju's hands covered her mouth. "…It can't be." But she would never forget that voice. None of them could.

Kurena and Raiden were speechless, staring up at the Juggernaut in disbelief. Shin's eyes trailed to its side, settling on a small, pink symbol branded on the flank. The symbol of a cherry blossom.

"I don't think I've seen that uniform before," the pilot continued. "I'm sure you've been through a lot, but you can rest easy now that–" She broke off suddenly, and Shin could almost feel the Juggernaut's optical sensors zero in on him.

"Hold on…Shin?"

Shin dragged his eyes away from the mark with some difficulty, and looked up at the machine now towering over him. He could hardly speak over the lump in his throat, but he fought until he managed to squeeze out a single word.

"Kaie."

1:25 PM

"So, any chance this is, like, some brand new type of Legion?" Haruto crossed his arms, looking over at the field where the five "newcomers" were stationed, the rest of the squadron gathered around them. He was quite unsettled, but he leaned against his Juggernaut, now safe in the hangar with the rest, trying to sound casual even as his mind struggled to make sense of it all.

Kaie shrugged from her seat on top of a crate. "I guess if the Legion knew how to make anything that realistic, we'd be dead already." She followed Haruto's gaze, and saw that their resident feline had made his way over to them and was rubbing up against the new Shin's leg.

He scarcely paid any attention to the cat as he spoke to the group.

That's definitely Shin behavior, she thought wryly. Fido too, while slightly confused about the situation, had quickly grown attached. Reattached?

"Well," Kaie said aloud, "this does explain a thing or two."

"Yeah."

Mere hours ago, the Shin, Anju, Raiden, Theo and Kurena they knew had disappeared. It wasn't some flashy occurrence, or anything that immediately caught her attention. They just…weren't there anymore.

Besides their Juggernauts, not a trace of them was left behind. Even their Para-RAIDs, which had been synced to the rest of the patrol's, had cut out.

Search parties had been sent out, which was when Kaie had come across…them. The base had been in an uproar for a while afterwards, though she had managed to get everyone under control long enough to begin questioning.

The five soldiers' memories were almost terrifyingly accurate, along with the new Shin's ability to sense the Legion, a power unique only to him. After a little thought, she and the others had agreed to tell them about the disappearances.

Shin had been strangely unbothered. "If something bad had happened to our past selves, we wouldn't be here right now," he'd pointed out.

"Then what happened to our squadmates?" Lecca asked.

But neither Shin nor anyone else had a satisfying answer.

Nothing was for certain, even how long this phenomenon would last. And according to their new guests, how any of this happened in the first place wasn't clear either.

For now, they just had to accept this odd situation until they found a solution.

In the meantime, her fellow Eighty-Six had–rather quickly–gotten over their suspicion and were now bombarding the time travelers with a plethora of questions.

Kaie couldn't help but smirk as she watched from afar.

2:46 PM

"So what's the future like? Does everyone get snazzy uniforms like that? How's the food? What about girls? Are there any–"

Theo could only groan. He was back in his old room, a place he hadn't seen since the day he'd gone with the others on the reconnaissance mission.

Under normal circumstances, he might have felt something like nostalgia upon seeing it again, but now he could only bury his head in his pillow as Haruto assailed him with question after question after question.

"Hey, Haruto," he cut in before the other boy could go on, "I get this is probably the most exciting thing that's happened since we were dropped in this shithole, but can we give it a rest until I've had some? I'm still processing too, y'know."

"Oh, right. Yeah."

He hadn't even gotten a chance to change out of his uniform, though he had to wonder if any of his clothes still fit. And while he didn't say it aloud just yet, there was another reason he was reluctant to start chatting with his old teammate.

It didn't seem to matter in the end, though, for when Haruto spoke next, he did so without any of his earlier excitement. He sounded calm, almost sympathetic. "…It's gotta be weird seeing us again, isn't it?"

Theo's grip tightened on his pillowcase, and he didn't answer. "Weird" didn't even begin to describe how he felt about all of this. His entire squadron had dwindled down to almost nothing, exterminated by the Legion. He, Anju, Kurena, Shin and Raiden were all that was left of the Spearhead squadron–except now they weren't.

All of these places, all of these faces… He had come to terms with never seeing any of them again. He should have. There was no changing the past, so there was nothing he could do but accept the loss and move on.

But now the past had caught up to him–or more accurately, he had been pushed back into it–and he had no idea how to deal with.

"It's like I'm talking to ghosts," he mumbled. "No offense. I mean, I had an idea, with Shin being Shin and all, but this is different. All the Legion can do is relive their last moments. They're not really there. But this…"

"Yeah," was all Haruto said.

Theo heard the creak of the chair as Haruto got to his feet. "Why don't I come check on ya later?"

"…Nah," Theo said, rolling onto his back. "I don't wanna be alone with my thoughts right now. And there's no way I can pass up a chance to talk with you guys again. Guess I just needed a minute to get over the shock."

Well, he'd been over the shock for a while now. It was the pain he had trouble dealing with. Haruto didn't deserve to be ignored because of it, though. Besides, there was plenty Theo wanted to share with him.

"Let's see," he began with a thoughtful expression. "The Federacy's got its own issues, but I'd take them over the Republic any day. Honestly the uniforms are a pain to put on every day, even if they're a step above what I used to wear. The food's actually pretty good on its own, and as for the girls…"

3:34 PM

"So, yer all grown up."

Raiden grinned. Never did he think he'd get to hear that grouchy voice again. "Maybe a little."

Lev Aldrecht huffed and shoved his hands into his oil-stained pockets, which Raiden took to mean he was happy to see them. "Mind you, I saw the five of ya headin' out just hours ago. And now yer back, with a fancy uniform and another three inches added to her height. Hmph, as if ya needed any more growin'."

"Good to see you too, old man."

The two of them stood in the hangar, watching the other mechanics perform routine maintenance on the rigs.

"Bet ya never thought you'd be standin' in front of one of these things again, huh?" Lev said.

Raiden shrugged. "Well, the ones the Federacy has are only slightly better, so in a way, I have been." He then lapsed into contemplative silence, his eyes seeming to look right through the Juggernauts at something only he could see.

After a moment or two, Lev scoffed. "Did that bastard Shin rub his moodiness on ya or somethin'? What's with that look?"

Raiden cracked a smile. "I'm just thinking, is all. It was a few hours ago for you, but I haven't been back here in two years. And the way everyone's acting…it feels like we never left."

Aldrecht raised an eyebrow, though his eyes remained obscured by the lenses he always wore. "Well, the time jumpin' thing is weird, but yer still the same kids we've always known. And it ain't like us dyin' is that much of a shocker; I never expected to leave this place alive, and neither did any of them."

That was definitely part of it. Raiden had been like that, once. Death came for all Eighty-Six eventually–what mattered was how he went out to meet it. Only that didn't happen. Slowly, he was learning to appreciate life, and that meant he was steadily becoming more wary of death.

These guys didn't have that experience, and they never would. So they could brush such things aside and go about their day, no matter what they heard. But try as he might, Raiden couldn't quite get into that mindset again. He likened it to those people who returned to their home country after being away a long time, only to find they could no longer speak their native language.

He was so close to his comrades, closer than he had been in years, but in that moment, he felt a continent away from them. There was no denying it–an impossible divide had opened up between them, one that could not be crossed by either side.

Guess we really have changed, Raiden thought. How about that?

"Agh, would ya stop lookin so glum already?" Aldrecht barked, smacking him on the shoulder. "It ain't like ya at all. I know ya've changed, but not that much!"

The old mechanic looked so irked at that moment that Raiden couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Yeah, that's more Shin's thing. I'm not really cut out for it."

The silence between them was more amicable this time, with all the remaining tension having dissipated. From then on, Aldrecht wasn't afraid to ask Raiden questions, and he wasn't afraid to answer them.

"The Eighty-Sixth Strike Package…" Aldrecht mused after a while. "Looks like no matter where ya go, yer stuck doin' someone else's dirty work."

"Pretty much," Raiden agreed. "But you know…it ain't all bad. I went places I never thought I'd get to see. And do things I never thought I'd get the chance to do. We all have. For once, it actually got me thinking…"

"About what?"

"About more than just tomorrow."

–––––––––

"Huh? Regrets?" Raiden looked over at the one who'd asked the question. An elderly man, his hair more gray than red, gazed back at him. His eyes were an almost unnervingly deep shade of green.

Raiden took a moment to think. "…That's part of life, yeah. But I think if people had more things to look forward to, looking back wouldn't hurt as much. You know, making sure wherever you're going is worth whatever you had to leave behind. That's what I think."

The old man smiled, and there was something oddly impish about it. "Is that so?"

–––––––––

Aldrecht stared ahead, still as a statue, but Raiden saw the corner of his mouth turn upward ever so slightly. "So yer finally seein' a place beyond this battlefield, eh? …That's good. Ya don't know…how glad that makes me."

There was a gentle calmness in his voice, along with acceptance…and pride. It was a voice Raiden had never heard from him before, in all the time they'd known each other.

He smirked. "Don't tell me you're gonna start crying, old man."

"What?! Like hell I am!"

"Sure, sure," Raiden said, waving a hand. After a moment he added, "Thanks, Lev."

As he made to leave, though, Aldrecht's hand came down on his shoulder. "Hold it. Ain't no way I'm lettin' ya leave without tellin' me everythin' ya know about those Reginleifs, or whatever ya call 'em."

Raiden held back a sigh, though he wasn't really annoyed. Should've expected that.

"Sure thing."

5:12 PM

"It's so bizarre knowing Kurena's technically older than most of us now."

"I know, right?"

"Ah, well, even if she is taller, she's still our super cute little sister."

As the other girls chatted around–and about–her, Kurena couldn't help but pout. "Come on, you have to admit I matured at least a little bit."

She had elected to help them with the daily chores, though she hadn't changed out of her uniform. It felt a little odd looking so different from everyone else, even though she knew there was far more that separated her from her old team than just looks.

She found herself unable to join in on their conversation, even though two years ago she would have been able to without any issue. Maybe it had to do with the fact that she had survived, and they hadn't.

The girls knew that; Kurena would never have dreamed of hiding it from them, even though they would have figured it out themselves pretty soon. With that in mind, did she really have the right to just laugh and chatter away with them, like everything was normal?

She had believed that she would fight and die with them right here in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and yet somehow, against all odds, Kurena had survived. She'd left them all behind.

–––––––––

"What?!" Kurena cried, surprise and indignation written all over her face.

The little boy sitting on the bench with her innocently swung his legs back and forth, watching the clouds drift overhead. "I said you're gonna get frown lines and look like an old granny if you keep making faces like that."

"I wasn't making any faces!"

"Yeah you were." The little redhead turned to look at her, his green eyes bright with mischief. "You were all pouty and stuff a second ago."

Kurena huffed, but inwardly she was mortified that a child could see through her so easily. "I wasn't pouting, I was thinking. Contemplating. Yeah. That's something adults do."

"You don't look like an adult."

Kurena opened her mouth to retort that she most certainly did look like one, but the words died in her throat. No, she probably didn't. She was everyone's "kid sister", the one who was spoiled and babied all the time, even in a place as hellish as the Eighty-Sixth Sector–a place where innocence went to die.

No, she didn't look like an adult, because regardless of her legal age, she wasn't one. She still sulked and pouted when things didn't go her way, so much so that even a kid like this could see her for who she really was.

"I guess not," she mumbled.

"Are you sad about something?" the boy asked. Unlike before, he didn't sound like he was teasing her. When she gave him a dubious look he added, "It always makes me feel better when I talk about sad things. Then they won't be bugging me up here anymore." He tapped the side of his head.

Kurena looked down at her lap. She had to wonder how bad things were that she needed to confide in a stranger to alleviate them. But Anju wasn't around, and it wasn't like she could tell Shin…

After a moment's hesitation, she began. "I had a group of friends," she told him. "A really big group. We were like a family. They were all I had. …But now they're gone."

The boy said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

She did. "I still wish they were here. I still want to be with them. I want things to go back to the way they were." Her hands slowly balled into fists. "But everything's changing. I think I'm changing. I'm leaving them. But that's not right, is it?" Every step took her further away from them. Was she the only one who knew that?

Why were Shin and the others so eager to leave, so desperate to move on? Kurena resisted, but she was always dragged along anyway. And she feared that she may be taking those steps all on her own now, without anyone pushing her.

How could that be the right thing to do?

"Do you think they'll be mad at you?" the boy asked.

Kurena realized she had been silent for some time. "How could they not be?" Because in all honesty, she probably would be, in their place.

"But why?" the boy asked, puzzled. "They're your family, aren't they?"

–––––––––

"Hey, Kurena!"

Someone poked her square in the back, and she yelped, nearly tossing the bowl she had been cleaning. Kurena turned her head to see Kaie and the other girls all staring at her expectantly. "…What?"

Kaie sighed. "While you were spacing out, we were trying to ask if you've made any progress after all this time."

Kurena frowned as she picked up a few spoons, confused. "With what?"

"Seriously?" Myna cried. "With Shin, of course! Who else?"

Kurena suddenly found the silverware in her hands to be quite interesting. "Oh. Right."

"So that's a no," said Mikuri, shaking her head. She adjusted her hair band, which was slightly askew, and Kurena felt even that tiny movement showed her exasperation. "Come on, Kurena. What's the hold up? You said it's been like, two years, right? I'm sure you had to have some kind of opportunity by then."

That wasn't quite right. "Well, it's more like…" Kurena trailed off awkwardly. She could explain, yes, but she felt it wasn't her place. Not to mention it wasn't exactly something she was dying to talk about. She had come to terms with it, more or less, but that was different from discussing the situation with other people.

She and the others had spoken extensively about their experiences, but ironically, no one had gotten around to telling the squadron about Lena. Shin had seemed reluctant; Raiden and Theo, as always, looked to be plotting something; as for Anju…

"Wait, where is Anju?" Kurena asked suddenly.

"Don't go changing the subject, Kurena," Kaie teased. "You're not getting out of this one that easily."

"Hold on," Myna interjected. "She's right. We talked a bit as a group, but I haven't seen Anju since then."

Mikuri twined a strand of her hair around her finger. "Well, maybe she's gone to talk to…you know."

A collective ohhh echoed around the group, and soon the topic became Anju, then then their time spent playing by the lake once, then dinner, and then something else entirely.

As they did, Lecca came to stand beside her. Kurena tensed slightly, but apparently the other girl was not looking to bring that other subject back up again.

Instead, she grinned. "You know, Kurena, I said you're our little sister before–and you still are," she added with a laugh, "but, I dunno…you seem different somehow. Besides getting taller. I guess even younger siblings still grow, huh?"

This was something Kurena hadn't wanted to acknowledge–that she had changed. But Lecca sounded almost happy when she said it. …No, not almost. She was. She was happy to see that Kurena was not the same as she had been when they'd known each other.

And if that was how she felt, it was likely how the other girls felt, too. Without waiting for a response, Lecca moved to assist Mikuri in setting the table.

Kurena heaved a quiet sigh of relief, both because she wasn't being put on the spot anymore, and because she was silently pleased by her friend's comment. Maybe, just a little, she was different. And, maybe, that wasn't a bad thing.

Soon enough, however, she lapsed into deep thought, wondering about her other friend. Kurena hadn't just been trying to distract the girls earlier. She really hadn't seen Anju all this time.

I hope she's alright…

7:47 PM

"I gotta say, being avoided the whole day like this kinda hurts."

Anju flinched. There was his voice, again. It was muffled by the door, but still hauntingly familiar. She hadn't looked at him since she'd been brought to the base. Not once. She couldn't do it. God, she couldn't do it.

The moment she had seen an opening, Anju had fled. If it looked like he was following her–and he was–she would make up some excuse to stay away from him. Someone was calling her, someone needed her help with the clothes, in the kitchen, etc.

She was always moving, and never did she let herself be alone with him. And when she inevitably ran out of excuses, Anju had holed herself up in her room. Of course, she had only cornered herself. But much as she knew that, she also knew he would never invade her privacy and enter against her wishes.

He wouldn't come in, and she wouldn't come out. Locked in a stalemate, evenly matched as always.

So Anju sat on the farthest corner of her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. She buried her head into them, both desperate to shut him out and making no real attempt to do so. She didn't trust herself to speak. Didn't even really know what words would come out if she did.

Her heart was at war with itself. Half of her wished more than anything to wake up from this dream–if that's what this was–while the other half hoped she never did.

"Uh, Anju?" Daiya's voice carried a note of hesitation. He had been trying for a joke, and getting no response must have damaged his confidence. Knowing him, he might be rethinking his decision to come here in the first place.

Anju felt that was probably for the best. I'm so sorry, but…please leave.

Please stay.

She couldn't tell which of these desires was stronger.

She heard him sigh. "Listen," he said, "I think I get what this is about. I ended up leaving you all alone, and I can't imagine what that must've done to you. I know if it were me…I'd never smile again."

And there it was. The heart of her distress. The true source of her sadness. Because while she may have felt the same once, at some point Anju had found herself smiling again. And it wasn't because of Daiya or his memory.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to hear her. It wasn't as if she no longer loved Daiya. He was still as precious to her as he'd always been and that would never change, be it in life or in death.

But as much as she wanted to tell him otherwise, the truth was Anju's heart didn't just belong to Daiya anymore. How could she say something like that to him?

"Do you think we can, you know, talk about this?" he went on, oblivious to her turmoil. "I know it's not easy, but there's so much I want to talk to you about. And I want to do it while I still have the chance. …So, uh, can we?"

Anju didn't respond right away. She knew deep down that she was being unfair to him. He of all people deserved the truth. And if he hated her for it, then maybe it was what she deserved.

She had to do this, for him. For both of them.

She lifted her head. "Come in," she called, just loudly enough to be heard through the door. A moment's pause, and then the knob turned. Daiya stepped in, and Anju found herself looking down into her lap.

The bed springs squeaked as he sat next to her, leaving a courteous three-foot gap between them.

Silence.

Daiya waited. He made no attempt to start a new conversation or lead with a joke. He simply waited. He was always like this with her, come to think of it. Always there, never closer than she wanted, or further than she needed. He was always just…right there.

Until he wasn't.

And even now, she still didn't look at him. "There's so much I want to tell you," Anju began, "but now I can't seem to figure out how to say any of it." Her voice was devoid of humor. "I'm strange, aren't I?"

"Well, this is a strange situation," he offered. "I'd probably do the same, in your shoes."

Anju smiled bitterly. "No, Daiya," she said, speaking his name for the first time. "I don't think that's true." He wasn't like her. He was better. He deserved better.

Her lips seemed to part on their own, unbidden, and she continued in a quiet voice even as he tilted his head. "You should know…"

–––––––––

As far as she knew, the toddler came out of nowhere.

Anju had been out strolling through town, figuring she had a little time to herself before she and the others had to appear for the briefing.

At least, that was the plan. But a tiny pair of hands gripping the fabric of her pants quickly put a stop to that idea. Startled, she looked down to find a small child holding onto her leg, his face hidden by unruly red hair.

He looked up at her, giggling in that bubbly way toddlers do, his bright green eyes gentle and trusting. Getting over her initial shock fairly quickly, she gathered him into her arms and took a seat, resolving to wait until his family returned for him.

The child himself didn't seem keen on communicating–not with real words, anyway–so Anju figured this was the best course of action.

And at first, it was. But as time passed, Anju started to have other thoughts. She had been certain that his parents would return any minute, and felt that moving the child before they did wouldn't be wise. But even though numerous people walked by, no one stopped to give the boy any attention.

As the child played with her hands, she gave him a small smile. "What am I going to do with you now?" Absently, she noticed he had a tiny sort of wristwatch on his arm. How cute.

He idly moved her fingers this way and that, and Anju noticed the boy's eyelids begin to droop. Another minute and he was fast asleep in the crook of her arm. As she watched him for a while, her gaze grew distant.

Somewhere at the end of all this, there may come a day when Anju herself would want to have a child of her own. It was still a far off dream, an idea or a concept more than an attainable goal, but still, her mind wandered.

If that day ever came, she thought, what would Dustin say? "…I think he'd love to have a little one like you." And then those musings ground to an abrupt halt.

Dustin.

She had inserted him so casually, without a second thought. When had she gotten to that point? When had she decided that it was okay to think of him that way? It was something she'd always staved off whenever it crept up on her, which was alarmingly often.

She knew she shouldn't be holding on to him like she was; it wasn't right to be stringing him along. But even so, whenever Anju prepared to relax her grip, whenever she tried to let him go…she simply couldn't.

She didn't want to let go. He was important to her–as a friend, and maybe something more. But if this went on…if she opened her heart to him…where would that leave Daiya?

It was up to Anju to carry his memory. So many of his wishes had gone unfulfilled… The pain and regret she'd felt since the day she'd lost him grew heavier with every passing moment.

She knew there was no going back. Daiya was gone, forever. There was no way of knowing what he would say about this; Anju was free to accept Dustin's affections. Some would say she was well within her rights to. So why…why did she still feel so guilty?

"I can't let go of either of them. How selfish…"

Perhaps if she hadn't been so consumed with these thoughts, the young girl might have noticed that her charge was awake, gazing at her with an expression quite unlike any child's.

Eventually, Anju had to take the little boy to the local authorities. No adult had spared them more than a passing glance at the park, and she couldn't afford to wait the whole day for his parents to arrive. In fact, by the looks of it she could very well be late to the briefing if she didn't hurry.

Yet when it was time to bid him farewell, Anju hesitated. That stray thought had returned to her, wondering if, sometime in the future, she would be holding a different child in her arms. She hurriedly passed the boy over to the officer she'd contacted, wishing to avoid that line of thinking again.

His tiny hand latched on to her finger and squeezed it, and the gesture felt almost…encouraging. Her own wishful thinking, certainly. The boy likely just didn't want his new friend to leave.

But he was in good hands now, so Anju had no reason to linger any longer. "Be good, okay?" She patted his head one last time before turning away, an odd feeling of melancholy settling over her being.

She didn't regret helping, but she'd spent far too much time on this…and those thoughts.

–––––––––

" …So. His name is Dustin."

That was the first thing Daiya said, after hearing Anju's lengthy explanation. He hadn't interrupted her once.

She clasped her hands in front of her and waited. She'd never hidden anything from him before, and she refused to start now. He knew everything–how she and Dustin had met, how they were spending more and more time together, how he'd told her he liked her…how she was beginning to feel about him.

"And he knows?" Daiya prompted.

Anju nodded. She didn't have to ask what he meant. It hadn't been her intention to show him, but Dustin did indeed know about her scar.

"Huh."

The emotion behind that word was something Anju couldn't recognize, and it frightened her. I knew it.

"Daiya, I–"

"Well, I guess that was bound to happen."

Anju's head shot up, caught off-guard. In that moment, she completely forgot about avoiding him and stared as he continued, nodding to himself.

"I mean, it makes sense, right?" he asked. "Much as I'd like to say otherwise, I know I can't be the only guy in the world who realizes what an amazing person you are. That's just not possible." He spoke matter-of-factly, as though he were only stating the truth, and an obvious one at that.

There was no hurt, no anger, no sadness in his voice. Well, the last part wasn't entirely true. Anju did detect a sort of wistfulness in those blue eyes, like he was looking right through the walls at something far in the distance.

But she also knew that Daiya wasn't upset with her, or anything close to it.

In fact, a small smile played at his lips as he turned to face her. "Is that what's been bugging you this whole time?"

Anju looked down and said nothing. A lump had formed in her throat, making it impossible to speak. All the emotions that have been building up inside her, all of them threatening to explode…simply seeped out of her, leaving her feeling drained and worn out.

And relieved.

Daiya spoke again, his voice gentle and slightly amused, and her eyes found his. "You already know, but I think you're incredible. I never believed we'd leave this place alive, but I always thought if someone, anyone deserved to get out of this hellhole…if anyone deserves to be free, to be happy? It's you. Anju," he repeated, "you deserve to be happy."

He brushed her cheek with his hand, and Anju was surprised to feel the wetness of tears on her skin. She hadn't even realized…

"I'm not mad," he promised. "Well, I do want to kick that Dustin guy if he ever steps out of line, but I can't. So I'll just have to ask Shin to do it for me."

Anju gave him a small, watery smile. "He said as much, more or less."

"Good." Daiya approved of that wholeheartedly, it seemed. He then brushed his hands against his pants, looking awkward all of a sudden. "I know I just said that I want you to be happy, and I do. If you think he does that for you, then that's all I need to hear. I don't want you to hang back for my sake." He gave a small half-smile of his own. Hesitant but hopeful. "Just, you know…don't forget me, okay?"

Her arms were around him before he even finished. She buried her face in his shoulder, squeezing him hard as the tears flowed freely.

"Never."

9:31 PM

"So, those white pigs finally got what's coming to them, huh?"

The dining hall was lively as usual, with the topic of discussion being, of course, the bizarre events of the last nine hours or so. The five former members of Spearhead–with the exception of Shin, apparently off in the hangar somewhere–were pestered for every minute detail about their new lives in the Federacy, and naturally the subject eventually shifted to the Republic of San Magnolia.

Needless to say, no tears were shed when its demise was brought to light.

"Can you believe that?" Haruto groaned, rubbing his temple. "It's not like I expected them to put up much of a fight or anything, but damn, not even one week?"

"That's a whole new level of pathetic," Kaie agreed, shaking her head as the rest mumbled their agreement.

"And then there's the rest of us Eighty-Six, stuck in there with them," Daiya muttered. "I can't even find the words."

Lecca huffed. "I dunno, I'd say that's pretty on brand for them. Perfectly useless in all the ways that count. I'm glad at least some of our squad made it out at least."

"That pretty much sums it up," Theo agreed. "Self-centered as all hell, but they couldn't even save themselves in the end. It'd be sad if it wasn't so stupid."

Haruto closed his eyes and let out a long, almost comical sigh. "And to think I was this close to going with you guys on the Special Recon mission," he lamented, holding his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "Just my luck."

"At least you didn't get blown up by one of those self-propelled mines," Kujo told him, smacking his forehead. "I mean, seriously?"

"Well, it was rainy that day, so you can get a pass for that," another Processor interjected, "but what about me?"

The group began talking amongst themselves at length, sometimes teasing each other, other times poking fun at themselves. While they may be doing it in jest and no hard feelings were had, Theo, Raiden, Kurena and Anju watched the scene before them with an unsettled feeling in each of their stomachs.

"This feels really weird," Theo muttered.

"…I think that's just their way of handling it," Anju whispered. If so, they had no right to take that away from them. She did wish they weren't quite so nonchalant about this, though.

Daiya, at least, was tactful enough not to join in. He instead decided to get the conversation back on track. "I know there's no real point to the Special Recon mission, but it's still pretty impressive you guys got as far as you did."

The rest of the squadron all nodded in agreement, admiration in their eyes. Marked for death they may have been, but those five clearly hadn't taken their lot lying down. Even when they had no way of knowing that they'd eventually find sanctuary, that little group, the last of the Spearhead squadron, had aimed to march as far as they possibly could.

It was a proud, noble thing. And yet for some reason, Theo cracked an impish smile. "Wish we could take full credit for that, but the truth is if it weren't for a certain princess, we wouldn't have gotten all that far at all."

Raiden's grin grew to match Theo's. "Hey," he chided, "she's the queen now, remember? Don't get it mixed up."

"Right, right, sorry."

The others were confused, to say the least. Now it was their turn to look on as the four of them snickered amongst themselves, like they were sharing an inside joke.

"We can laugh," Anju said after gathering herself, "but we all know where we'd be without her."

"Dead," Raiden said without hesitation.

"For sure," Theo agreed, "but it's not like we're wrong. The top brass of the Federacy can call the shots, but if it comes down to it, we're backing her, not them."

"Somehow all her crazy stunts end up working," Kurena added, exasperated. But no one missed the grudging respect in her tone. "You really start to question if she actually knows what she's doing, but then it all comes together at the very end. I stopped trying to keep up."

Raiden spoke next. "Like that time we strapped rockets to those train cars and ran the Legion over with them?" He reclined in his chair, eyes to the ceiling as if recalling a fond memory. "She's the only person I know who'd come up with something like that. I remember feeling stuck between being impressed and a little frightened."

"But if you say any of that, she'll be at a loss for words," Anju supplied, still smiling. "She tries to put on a brave face, but she gets flustered rather easily, doesn't she? It's cute."

"Uh…" Daiya raised a hand, tired of feeling out of the loop. "Anyone else wanna know what the heck they're talking about?"

"Yeah," Kaie agreed, petulant. "Are you gonna fill us in or not?"

"Whoever she is, she must be quite the Processor," Kujo remarked, lifting his forkful of chicken and potatoes to his mouth.

"Oh, she's not a Processor," Anju said offhandedly.

Haruto scoffed at Kujo's words. "That's your guess? How would they meet a lone Processor all the way out in Legion territory?" He took a sip from his cup, full of confidence. "She's probably some Federacy soldier, right?"

"No."

Kujo smirked, and Haruto sheepishly scratched his neck. "Well, that's all I got."

"But what else is there?" Lecca asked, perplexed. "The only ones who even know about that mission are us and the Handlers. There isn't anybody else…is there?" she added, intrigued by the possibility of another, unknown party.

But Kurena shook her head. "No, that's it."

Mikuri frowned. "Who, then?"

"Lecca just said it."

It took the Processors a little longer than she expected to, well, process it. Lecca had named two options, but they'd only considered one. The other simply hadn't been worth thinking about. After all…

"…There's no way a Handler would look out for a bunch of Eighty-Six," Haruto said with finality. But when Kurena didn't answer, the others began whispering among themselves.

"What, really?" Haruto gaped, incredulous.

"But you said so yourself, Theo," Lecca protested. "All the white pigs care about is themselves. You agreed with me."

"Yeah," Theo replied, "because we were talking about white pigs. That's got nothing to do with her."

"She's an Alba, though." Another boy near the back of the room, Kino, spoke up. He looked more confused than anything, as if he'd just been told that fish can actually breathe air.

But among all the disbelief, there were two who withheld judgment. Kaie and Kujo exchanged a glance.

"What's she like?" the latter asked after a moment.

Kino raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"It's not about whether or not you think people like her exist," Kaie said. "It's about whether or not you believe what your squadmates tell you. And I do. Besides," she added with a shrug, "I'm not gonna be the one to say every Alba is bad, and every Eighty-Six is good. We all know that isn't true."

No one spoke up to challenge that notion. They'd experienced enough cruelty at the hands of the Alba to last several lifetimes, but there were also a few of them who knew full well just how quickly their brethren turned on one another.

So after a few moments, the noise died down and the Processors gave their full and undivided attention–some a bit skeptically–as Anju answered Kujo's question.

"Let's see… In a word? Sweet."

"Terribly so," Theo said.

"Kind of a 'by-the-book' person," Raiden added.

"And she's such a worrywart sometimes," came Kurena's grumble from her chair. "Used to cry a lot, too."

"You're one to talk, Kurena," Theo muttered.

"Hey!"

Anju gazed down into her cup, wistful. "But she always comes through when you need her."

"She stands her ground, and nothing gets by her," Raiden chuckled. "It's almost scary."

"And…well…she cares, you know?" Kurena looked away as she said this, twirling her thumbs. Her voice was thick with emotion, which she hated. The last thing she wanted was to get overemotional like a child.

Still, she had to say it. "When the Republic still saw us as animals, she treated us like people. Even when we didn't feel the same about her."

As his squadmates broke into discussion once more, Theo's expression became uncharacteristically solemn; he had been the worst offender in that regard, whether he'd felt justified in it or not. Well, Lena would surely consider it water under the bridge now, so he decided not to dwell too deeply on it.

Besides, here comes the fun part.

Theo idly twirled his spoon between his fingers, hiding a sly smile. "It's all true. But don't just take our word for it," he said. "Our resident Reaper's got a lot to say about her, too."

Naturally, this phrasing turned more than a few heads.

"Well, I'm sure Shin was glad to have a Handler around who's not completely incompetent for once," Lecca offered, evidently not understanding what Theo meant.

"If only that's all it was," Raiden chimed in, ever quick on the uptake. "But then it wouldn't be half as entertaining."

"Is this another inside joke?" Daiya asked.

Anju giggled. She, too, picked up on the not-so-hidden message, and found it highly amusing. "It's more one of those 'open secrets' everyone knows but no one talks about. But there's a reason why that is, you know." She leaned forward, conspiratorial. "Learning this particular secret could be dangerous. Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

"She's not wrong, actually," Kurena added. Her face gave nothing away.

Daiya looked less than confident at those words. He was sure they were joking about something, but he was somehow also sure that Anju wasn't kidding about this supposed "danger". He exchanged a nervous glance with Haruto before nodding.

The others leaned in, their curiosity getting the better of them.

Anju's eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. "Okay, then. Gather round, all of you, and we will tell you a secret no human had ever discovered…until now."

"The kinda secret a certain someone would do anything to keep from getting out," Theo put in, wiggling his fingers for dramatic effect.

"Something a lot of you probably didn't think was even possible," whispered Kurena, finally getting swept up in the suspenseful atmosphere.

Raiden steepled his fingers, drawing all eyes in the room. "The Reaper of the Eastern Front's one and only weakness."

10:15 PM

"You know, you're actually less clingy now than you are in my time." Shin looked down at the black cat as he said this. The two of them had been standing outside the hangar, looking up at the night sky a few moments prior.

The cat mrreowed in response and began playing with his shoelaces. Lena will go on to name him TP, but as of right now, he didn't have one. Not a good one, anyway. Before, the squadron had never managed to come up with a proper name for the feline. But Shin thought that, if they had known what his name would be…

"…I definitely would've named you Leonidas," he said aloud. The cat brushed up against Shin's leg, likely not understanding but enjoying the sound of his voice anyway.

Shin looked behind him into the hangar. Fido was somewhere in there, having been ordered to stay put after spending the whole day following Shin around. That wasn't any different in his time, either.

The whole day had been bizarre to say the least, but Shin didn't find himself being all that worried about it. He was by no means an expert on quantum mechanics, but he thought he had an idea about how the whole "time" situation worked. Namely, the fact he and the others were here at all meant that their past selves will remain unharmed, wherever they are.

Moonlight glinted off of a small object in the grass, and Shin crouched to pick it up. It was a simple screw, likely left by Fido or one of the other Scavengers.

It looked fairly new now, but given how cheaply the Republic made most of their things, it would likely be rusted away by the present day. Strange to think about. The cat's eyes fixed on it, and he sat back on his haunches to paw the air.

"It's not a toy," Shin said.

As much as he'd like to stay outside a little longer, he knew that it was about time he joined the others for dinner. He'd planned on going as soon as he'd been called, but upon stepping inside his room for the first time in years, Shin had told Kujo to go ahead and start without him.

He had avoided looking into it the entire day, but after Anju and Daiya's exchange–the walls were rather thin–Shin realized how borderline cowardly he was being, and decided he had to visit his old lodging at least once. When he did, the experience hadn't been what he'd expected.

He'd been prepared to be assaulted by painful memories, by the feeling of losing so many comrades in such little time and the endless days he'd spent obsessively searching for Rei's ghost. But instead he felt…nothing. Maybe a few traces of familiarity, but besides that, it was an old room that he happened to be standing in.

That was all.

Maybe that had been the final bit of proof he needed to know that the Eighty-Sixth Sector had truly broken its hold on him.

Idly slipping his hands into his pockets, he wondered if Lena would say something similar, if she were here. The little black cat hot on his heels, Shin made his way to the bustling dining hall in good spirits.

In hindsight, if he'd only stopped to listen for just a few seconds, he might still have been able to escape with his dignity intact.

As it were, he stepped through the doorway amidst his friends' excited chatter, their attention drawn to where Raiden, Theo, Kurena and Anju sat at the end of the table. They appeared to be entertaining the larger group with a story of some sort, one that had the entire squadron completely enraptured.

Unusual, but they all seemed to be having fun, so there wasn't any harm in–

The cat suddenly darted past him, meowing plaintively, spurred on by the smell of food. The room fell silent as over a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on Shin, who stopped in his tracks.

Looking from one eager face to another, he opened his mouth to ask what exactly was going on when he was suddenly engulfed in a hug by Daiya, of all people.

"I can't believe it," he cried. Upon being released, Shin saw that his eyes were shining. "And here I was thinking it was never gonna happen!"

Kujo came up next, slapping Shin heartily on the back. "What'd I tell you? Prayer works!"

"Normally I'd question that," said Haruto, his grin stretching from ear to ear, "but this is definitely the stuff of miracles."

Before Shin could ponder that–or everything else that happened–the rest of the Processors all swarmed him, the girls squealing their delight as they hugged him, the guys patting his back or lightly punching his shoulder. So thrown was Shin that he didn't make any attempt to shake them off.

Before, they would retain a respectful distance from him, no matter where they were or what they talked about. He was their Reaper, to be awed and revered, but never more than that. Shin didn't think of himself as "above" anyone, but their admiration and trust in him had been one of the few things they had to hold onto, so he'd allowed it.

Now they freely invaded his personal space and then some, the way a person would a close friend or family member. In fact, of all of them, only Kaie held back, though she too was smirking.

"Not technically," she told Haruto. "Don't you remember? She didn't say yes."

Shin's blood ran cold.

"Well it was as good as," Haruto protested. "What more do you need?"

"No, Kaie's right," Lecca said, holding her chin thoughtfully. After the initial excitement, it seemed she had switched to analysis mode. "Actions speak louder than words, and from what I heard the signals were pretty mixed. It could go either way."

"Agh, that's true," Daiya conceded, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess we celebrated too early."

"Still," Kujo said, "Shin having the courage to confess in the first place is a huge milestone. I think that's reason enough to celebrate."

Shin's worst fears had come to pass. They knew. And the only way they could know was if someone had told them. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the four people who hadn't left their seats the entire time–one in particular.

Though he was on the other side of the room, Theo shrank under Shin's icy glare. "Wh-what're you looking at me for?!" he cried.

"Because you started it," Raiden told him sagely.

"Don't act like you weren't in on it!"

"We may have gotten caught up in the moment," Anju said, at least having the decency to lower her own gaze. "Sorry, Shin."

He had a feeling she was more sorry about being found out than anything, though. Even Kurena looked a little sheepish.

"Well," Kujo spoke up, "it's not like we wouldn't have figured it out eventually, right?"

"Mhm," Daiya agreed. "I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but you seemed a lot different from the Shin we know, even at a glance. And I don't just mean the new outfit."

"Yeah," Kino said. "It's like, you're still you, but the way you sound and act is something else entirely. There's a kind of 'light' in your eyes now that wasn't there before."

"But who would've guessed it was the light of love all along," Myna swooned, making Shin's face heat up.

"I don't know what they told you," he grumbled irritably, extricating himself from the group and striding to take his seat next to Raiden, "but it isn't what you think it is. There's nothing to talk about."

"Aw, don't be shy, Captain!" Haruto said, that big, stupid grin still on his face. "We're rooting for ya, you know."

"Yeah, give it time. I'm sure it'll work out somehow," Lecca added, her optimism making Shin feel even worse.

They were all giving him various words of sympathy and encouragement, to the point that the normally stoic captain wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and bury himself. How did things end up this way again?

"But I wanna meet this Lena girl even more now," another Processor lamented, falling back into his chair. "I mean, imagine getting the goddamn Reaper to fall for you. I want to at least see what she looks like, just once."

Kaie looked down, the smirk falling from her face. "Come on, Tohzan," she said. "You know we can't."

A hush fell over the room once more, with an atmosphere far different from the one Shin had felt when he'd walked in. The Processors had all sobered up, and were returning to their places at the table.

Anju said nothing, and even Raiden occupied himself with his utensils, having nothing more to say.

"Hey," Kurena said, standing up. "It doesn't have to be this way, does it? I mean, we're from the future. There's so much we can do to help you guys!"

Theo nodded. "Yeah, just ask us what you wanna know and we'll tell you, no problem." He looked at Kaie, clearly hoping for some agreement.

But she shook her head. "If that were possible, then wouldn't it have already happened?" she asked.

She met Shin's gaze, and he had to look away. In truth, he had already thought about it, but had soon discarded the idea for that same reason.

He had a feeling Anju and Raiden had considered it as well, and maybe even Theo and Kurena, though they couldn't bring themselves to acknowledge it.

"Think back," Kaie pressed. "Do you remember anything about us somehow surviving the Eighty-Sixth Sector and leaving for Giad with you?"

"No," Shin admitted. Even as they spoke, he racked his brain. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not recall his squadron's deaths playing out any differently than what was in his memories.

"Then how do you explain any of this?" Kurena demanded. "We're talking to you right now."

She was as accustomed to death as anyone here, despite how she acted at times. But there was something especially cruel in being told that, despite this seemingly golden opportunity, there was still nothing they could do to spare their comrades from their fates.

"That's true," Kaie said. "And I don't know why that is. But the fact is, what's already happened before is probably gonna happen again. That's supposed to be how this whole thing works. Right, Shin?"

Shin didn't want to have to be the one to do it, to acknowledge this terrible fact and shatter Kurena's remaining hope, but he forced himself to nod. "Our past selves have disappeared, but I don't remember that happening to me at all. I won't pretend to have this whole thing figured out, but in all likelihood, it'll play out just as Kaie says."

"But…" Kurena refused to give in, even in the face of the one whose word she usually believed without question. She looked helplessly at Theo, then Anju and Raiden, but was met only with silence. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "…we're not even gonna try?"

Theo avoided her eyes. Anju closed hers, and Raiden clenched his fists. But still they said nothing.

"Kurena."

Kaie's voice was gentle, but one that didn't allow for argument. Kurena turned to her reluctantly, and Kaie stood to take her hands. "It's fine, you know."

The redhead blinked, not understanding. "What is?"

"This." Kaie gestured to herself, and the other Processors in the room. "We don't mind it one bit. Right guys?"

They didn't answer verbally, but looking at each of them, Shin saw the fiery light of determination in their multicolored eyes. Determination, and gratitude.

"You fought with us until the end," Kaie went on. "You did everything you could to keep us from being taken by the Legion."

Shin frowned bitterly at that.

She smiled softly at him. "And even when you couldn't, you still found us and put us to rest, didn't you?" It was rhetorical. She knew that he had, and that he always would. "All we wanted was to go as far as possible, for as long as possible–and the moment we couldn't anymore, for you to take us with you wherever you end up. And you did. What more can we ask for?"

"No way we can do the things you guys do, anyway," Haruto chimed in, half-joking. "Sounds tough even thinking about the future. A life after the war? I wouldn't even know where to start with that."

"Yeah, sounds like a hassle," said Kujo. "We'll leave that to the guys who're actually capable of it. You don't want us dragging you down, that's for sure."

"You've never…" Anju began.

Daiya spoke before she could find the words. "You know what we mean though, don't you?" he asked.

His own smile was a little sad, but he spoke in a clear voice that left no room for doubt. "We're fine with things playing out as they do, if this is the result. Think about it; something good actually came of all this. You, Kurena, Raiden, Theo…even Shin is well on his way to finding happiness someday. After all this time, our very own Reaper finally has someone to give his heart to. I think, with that in mind…it's worth it."

Shin wanted to say something, to respond somehow, but found that his throat had closed up at some point.

Kaie giggled. "Look at him, getting all choked up. …You really have changed, Shin."

"Girls like guys with soft centers, so keep that in mind when you go to talk to that lady friend of yours, Captain," Kino teased, making Shin stiffen.

"Give him some credit," Kujo chided him. "Dancing, and a fireworks confession? Doesn't get any softer than that."

Shin scowled at the four guilty parties. "Anything else you'd like to share?"

"Well now that you mention it," Theo began, "there was that time we went to the hot springs and you–" His voice died instantly when he saw Shin reaching for a fork. "Okay, okay! We're done. Happy now?"

"Keep it that way, and I will be."

He heard a giggle somewhere to his right, and looked to see Kurena chuckling at the show they'd put on. Then the laughs wavered, and soon the young girl was holding onto Kaie, her body wracked with sobs. The events of the day had finally caught up to her.

Kaie simply squeezed her in return, having said all that needed to be said.

Daiya reached over and took Anju's hand in his, and Haruto went and clapped Theo on the shoulder. Kujo gave Raiden two thumbs-up. And at the very end, when Kurena had calmed and the others had returned to their seats, the Processors all looked to Shin.

Kujo raised his cup. "To Snow Witch, Wehrwolf, Gunslinger, and Laughing Fox, who beat the odds and reached the end," he announced. He beamed. "And to our one and only Reaper, who can finally be free."

One by one, the original members of the Spearhead squadron followed suit, shouting a hearty "Here, here!" Their voices rose and filled the air, resonating within Shin's very soul.

Shin didn't know what kind of face he was making at that moment, but whatever it was, he hoped it conveyed all the emotions he couldn't put into words.

Given his friends' expressions, he might have succeeded.

11:33 PM

It took a little while, but soon the dining hall was restored to its usual liveliness once more. Shin looked all around him, hardly joining in on any conversations himself but content to listen as stories were swapped and experiences were shared.

Tears were still shed, but out of laughter more often than not. The subject of Lena came up every so often, much to Shin's chagrin, but aside from some lighthearted teasing from Theo and Haruto–both of whom had to be made examples of–the group kept their nebulous relationship out of their discussions.

Instead they asked a myriad of questions about her as a person, and he was pleased to see how quickly Spearhead had taken to the girl, even though they themselves had yet to actually meet her.

As he quietly observed, Shin thought about the last time he'd seen them all in a room together like this, laughing and horsing around with each other without a care in the world. Like every hour could very well be their last. That was when true nostalgia hit. It was all nearly exactly the same, complete with a stuffed-full-of-table-scraps cat snoozing away in his lap.

"Pretty crazy day overall, huh?" Kaie swirled her drink–water, like everyone else's–around in her mug, also watching the merriment with a satisfied look on her face.

"To put it mildly,"Shin answered. "I still don't know why any of this happened, but…I think I'm glad it did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's…nice, seeing you all again. And I think what you told us back there was something they really needed to hear."

"'They'?" she prompted.

"We," Shin corrected. He'd always hoped that somewhere, his fallen squadmates would approve of his decisions and support him from wherever they resided now. But hearing it for himself had a much more profound effect on his heart, so much more so than if he'd simply imagined it. He felt…lighter, somehow.

"Thanks, Kaie."

"I'm the one who should be thankful," she replied. "And I am. We all are." Then she stood and stretched. "But, well, you know all that already. It's pretty late, so let's all try and get a good night's sleep. And tomorrow," she held out her cup, "we'll find a way to send you home."

Shin also stood, and clinked his own tin cup against Kaie's, a small smile on his face. "Sounds good."

11:50 PM

Eventually, the merriment had to come to an end. Resolving to tackle the mystery of their time-travel in the morning, the Processors bade Shin and his group good night and headed for their rooms. Soon the five of them were alone once more, as they had been when they'd started the strange journey that was the last twelve hours.

"Well, this was probably the weirdest day of my life," Theo said aloud, breaking the silence at last. They were making their way down the hall, as their rooms were all located near the end.

"Same here." Raiden shook his head. "I think Theo was onto something when he said we might be hallucinating this whole thing."

Kurena yawned, of a similar mind. "All we really did was talk, but I'm still exhausted. I can sleep for a week."

Anju was quiet, but Shin caught her looking back the way they'd come more than once. He opted not to comment on it, but he thought he knew what she was thinking about.

"It's been a long day," he said. "I'm sure we'll be better able to process it in the morning. So for now, let's focus on getting some sleep."

No one had any complaints about that, and one by one Raiden, Theo and Kurena broke away from the group and withdrew to their rooms as they walked by. Anju was the last to go, glancing over at Shin as she stood in the doorway to her own room.

"I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring," she pondered, though she sounded more amused than anything.

"I guess we'll see when tomorrow comes," Shin answered with a shrug.

Anju chuckled at that. "I suppose you're right."

Shin continued on, until he reached the last room at the very end of the hall.

11:58 PM

Before he knew it, he was standing before the door, rough and worn as it always had been, for as long as he could remember. He thought over the events of the day…all the words that had been spoken to him by people he thought were long gone. And they were–or would be.

But the same could not be said of those words. Words he never knew how badly he'd needed to hear until now.

11:59 PM

Shin's hand rested on the doorknob. Anju had wondered what the next day would bring; after today, there was truly no way of knowing. It could prove to be even more of a confusing mess than today was.

It could prove that there was no way for Shin and the others to return to their own time. But as he said to Anju, tomorrow's problems were for tomorrow. Tonight he would sleep surrounded by his comrades, who all believed in and supported him in their own way. For Shin, that was enough.

A sense of calm acceptance washing over him, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

12:00 PM

"Ah, Captain. Right on time."

Shin stared. Once again, his brain could hardly make sense of what his eyes were seeing. He was certain he'd just opened the door to his room in the barracks, in the middle of the night, somewhere deep within the Eighty-Sixth Sector. And yet…

"Well, don't stand in the doorway like that," Willem pressed, Grethe and Richard sitting on either side of him at the table. "Let the others in so we may proceed with the briefing."

This was the briefing room. There was no doubt about that. It was also noon; the digital clock on the far wall left no doubts about that, either. And when Shin glanced behind him, who else did he see but Raiden, Theo, Kurena and Anju standing there, looking every bit as dumbfounded as he felt.

He had been given an order. By all means, he should follow it. But for those first few seconds, Shin could only stare blankly at the senior staff. "I…"

1:30 PM

The next hour or so had gone by in something of a confusing blur. To his credit, Shin had recovered from the initial shock fairly quickly and was able to feign his usual demeanor, giving the others time to collect themselves before the higher-ups questioned their behavior.

The briefing itself passed without further incident, but that didn't stop Shin's thoughts from turning over and over in his mind, trying to catch this new curveball that had been thrown at him. He said nothing about it aloud, and neither did the others, but he knew they were all thinking the same thing.

What exactly happened?

Everything they'd seen, everything they'd heard and felt–it was all so vivid. So real. And yet for some reason, here they were–right where they were supposed to be in the first place, as if no time had passed at all.

Like…a dream.

"But who randomly has dreams in the middle of doing something else?" That was Theo's question. "And it took no time at all? How does that make sense?"

"But what else could it be?" Anju asked.

They'd all retreated to the hangar as soon as they had been cleared to leave. As for the location, it was more or less the first place they'd thought of.

"I'm with Anju on this one," Raiden said. "A dream's gotta be the easiest explanation. The question is, how did we all get it?" He looked from person to person, hoping for someone to come up with something.

Theo ruffled his hair, annoyed. "I don't know. After I left the park, I came straight here. Before that it was just me and that weird sales guy, I guess. And then I–"

"'Sales guy'?" Shin cut in. "What sales guy?"

Theo waved a hand, indifferent. "Just some weirdo who came up and started talking to me outta nowhere. Red hair, green eyes, business wear. Kept asking me about things I–"

"Regret?" Raiden guessed.

Theo paused, taken aback. "…Yeah. You've seen him too?"

Raiden folded his arms, looking pensive. "Something like that."

Shin noticed Anju and Kurena sharing a meaningful look, and in his own mind, he looked back to an encounter he'd had a little while ago, one he hadn't given any thought to since it happened–until now.

–––––––––

"Really? None at all?"

Shin shrugged in response to the boy's question. They looked about the same age, though that was all they had in common as far as appearances went.

He reclined on the grass, knowing that soon he would have to make his way back to base. For now though, he thought about the redhead's query. Shin didn't mind that he had come up and started a conversation out of nowhere; he'd met stranger folk.

Regrets…

"Not 'none'," Shin clarified. "I don't think it's possible to live life without ever regretting anything. It's happened a lot in the past, and it'll probably happen again in the future. But I like to think I've come to terms with it. If I hadn't after all this time, I think I would be doing them a disservice."

He didn't specify who he meant. He figured the other boy could understand even without context. Anyone who'd ever lost someone would be able to, and in a war such as this, there were few who hadn't.

"That's a little different from what I expected," the redhead admitted.

"What were you expecting? A lengthy rant about everything I ever regretted in my life?"

The boy laughed. "Something like that. But I see you've already made your peace."

Shin was about to concur, but paused. Yes, he had made his peace, to the best of his ability. He thought that they might be happy with his decision, too. But…

"I wouldn't mind hearing it from them," he confessed. It wasn't possible, and in the end the most he could do was imagine what they might say, but still…

"Hm. That'll do, I think."

Shin looked over at the stranger, brows furrowed. "What?"

The boy laced his fingers behind his head. "I said, thank you for this talk. And I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

–––––––––

1:45 PM

"…I'd be angry if I wasn't so tired," Shin muttered.

It turned out, finding him again was no trouble at all. In fact, he was in the very same spot he had been when Shin left. Well, he had moved from the grass to the bench, but his relaxed posture was the same, reclining without a care in the world.

"Hello again," the red-haired boy greeted him. "Nice uniform." When he and Shin had spoken, the latter had been dressed casually.

Shin hadn't changed out of his military attire, prioritizing finding the person who'd started–or was at least involved in–this whole mess. He had been prepared to look all over town for the suspect, and was quite surprised to find that he had only shifted a few feet at most.

Besides commenting on Shin's uniform, the redhead didn't otherwise react to his presence, or his obvious irritation. In fact, he cheerfully patted the bench, inviting Shin to have a seat. "Did you enjoy your trip?" he asked, erasing all lingering doubt. He knew exactly why Shin had come, and wasn't the least perturbed by it.

Shin glared at him, but found himself sitting anyway–though he kept a good amount of space between them. "You know you had us experience a whole half day in a matter of seconds? It wasn't even 'restful', like a normal dream. You can easily scramble someone's brain like that."

"Is that what you think it was?" the boy asked.

"Yes," Shin said. "Twelve hours in less than twelve seconds? And at the end of it all, we were taken back to where we started like no time had passed. I imagine our minds filled in what actually went on in it, since we all shared the same experiences. It was pretty realistic, but ultimately still a dream."

Well, it had been realistic to the point of being disturbing, really.

"I talked with my friends about what happened before the meeting," he went on before the boy could interject. "And they all said the same thing–different people approaching them, asking the same questions you asked me. Red hair and green eyes, even with the kid who didn't speak."

The boy looked up at the drifting clouds overhead. "Do you think we're related or something?"

"I think they're you."

The redhead didn't look all that concerned. "I'm sure there are plenty of people in various stages of life with red hair and green eyes. That, and hair dye and contact lenses exist. Do you have any solid proof that we're all the same?"

Shin didn't. He didn't even really know why he said it. Maybe he just didn't like the whole "mysterious stranger" act the guy was putting on, and wanted him to know that someone was onto him.

When Shin didn't reply, the boy's lips turned upward at the corners, as if he were more amused than anything. "I guess we'll never know, then. Anything else you'd like to ask?"

Feeling he wouldn't get anything more out of him on that subject, Shin decided to go ahead and pose the most important question. "Why do any of this?"

Why them? Why now? Why ask all those questions, and show them that particular dream? The only reason Shin wasn't as angry as he could have been was because he was realizing just how little he or anyone else knew about this stranger.

Someone who had managed to put five different people under a trance that felt like it lasted half a day, but was really only a few moments. Someone who could, possibly, change his appearance to some extent.

And after meeting each person only once, he had taken a special interest in them. Why?

"Why?" the teen repeated, sounding hurt. "I was trying to soothe the emotional pain you've all been carrying for so long. I could sense that in you, and it's more prominent than most. So, being the kind soul that I am, I made it possible for you to reunite with your fallen friends and lay your grievances to rest, thus unburdening your spirits and finally starting you on the path to healing."

Shin sat patiently through all of it, waiting. And after a few seconds of silence, he heard a small, defeated sigh.

"You mentioned my ability, how it can 'easily scramble someone's brain'? Well, the problem is it's too easy. There's no skill in breaking something repeatedly, despite what some people will tell you. And the mind, despite all its knowledge, is a very fragile thing." His voice carried a note of frustration, like that of a child who always ended up cracking an egg no matter how delicately he tried to handle it.

He took no notice of Shin's unease as he continued. "My ability can't be used on just anyone. It pulls hard on the psyche–literally–so my subjects need strong mental fortitude to be able to withstand it. Fortunately, anyone able to survive the Eighty-Sixth Sector would be able to do that just fine."

Shin didn't think he'd ever heard anyone call what happened to him and the hundreds of thousands of Colorata who escaped from the Republic, "fortunate". His rising anger was only kept at bay by his increasing disquiet. It seemed the more he talked, the less Shin understood about this boy. He was starting to wonder if he was better off not knowing. For one thing…

"You knew I came from the Eighty-Sixth Sector," Shin said. "I don't remember mentioning anything like that when we talked."

"I did say I can sense emotional turmoil," the boy replied, tilting his head. "That part was true. And that includes trauma, even the kind you think you've gotten over. It's not exact, but it's accurate enough. But I have to say, even amongst the Eighty-Six, you have quite a lot weighing on you, Shin."

…Shin decided against asking how the boy knew his name. It was probably the least surprising thing about this whole situation.

The redhead frowned, evidently miffed that Shin hadn't taken the bait, which only convinced the latter that not asking had been the right call.

The boy then lifted his arm, examining the wristwatch strapped to it. "Anyway, if there's anything else you want to say, I suggest you get it all out now."

"Going somewhere?" Shin asked dryly.

"Me? No. But there are caveats to my ability, you know." He fiddled with the tiny dial on the side of the watch. "After a certain amount of time, all memories relating to me and my power will seal themselves inside your subconsciousness. Keeps things…stable. That also includes what you experienced during those twelve hours. Your mind will fill in any remaining gaps left behind. It'll be like none of this ever happened."

"And the others?"

"The same goes for anyone who's been affected by my power, directly or indirectly."

Whether it was true or not, Shin figured he would find out very soon. "If that's the case, you can at least give me your name, right?" he asked. "I'll forget later, so there's no harm in it." He wanted to learn something about him. He didn't like going up against an adversary knowing nothing at all.

And given that this jovial teenager seemed to enjoy screwing around with Shin and his friends like it was some sort of game, he definitely couldn't be considered an ally.

"Fair enough," the boy conceded. "It's Markus."

He didn't offer a surname, which Shin supposed was to be expected. "So what I gathered here is, this whole thing started because you were bored and looking for something to do. Then you found us. Is that right?"

Markus spread his hands. "Somewhat. But I did want to help a tiny bit. And let's not pretend I didn't do something nice in the process. It helped you, didn't it?"

It had. Even if none of it had been real, speaking to his old squadron, hearing their words of encouragement and support had lifted a weight from his chest–a weight he'd carried for so long he'd forgotten it even existed.

He knew the same was true for the others. Raiden, Kurena, Theo, and especially Anju–they'd all heard the things they had desperately needed to hear for so long. Maybe there was no point to it, considering they were all going to forget everything anyway, but for those few hours at least, the five of them had been able to shed their burdens.

Naturally, he didn't admit to any of this aloud. Markus didn't need anything else to hold over him. So Shin opted to ask a question instead. "So, Markus," he said, "anything I should know before your…'ability' kicks in?"

"Well, a lot happened while you were away," Markus said thoughtfully. "…Hmm, but it also never happened, so no."

Shin nearly asked what that was supposed to mean, but decided he didn't want to know the answer to that, either. "I'll take your word for it. What're you going to do now that your little experiment is over?"

Markus didn't react to the harshness in Shin's words. He treated them as a genuine question, and laced his fingers together as he mulled it over. "I rather like this period, so I think I'll hang around here for a bit." He smirked. "Who knows? We might end up running into each other again."

"Let's hope not." This only elicited a laugh from Markus, so Shin tempered his annoyance by asking a different question. He really only had one left. "Okay, Markus. When exactly are my memories supposed to get wiped?"

"Not 'wiped'," Markus corrected. "'Sealed'. I can unlock them again, but I think I'll leave them as-is for the time being."

"…Alright, so when exactly will my memories be 'sealed'?"

"By this point? I'd guess around two o'clock."

"And what time is it right now?"

"Well…" Markus glanced at his watch again. "I'd say it's just about–"

2:00 PM

Shin blinked. He looked around, and saw a redheaded boy sitting next to him. From the looks of it, the boy had been saying something. "Sorry?"

"You were asking me the time," he said. "It's two o'clock."

"Oh, right. Thanks."

That's right. The briefing had concluded well over an hour ago. The destination for their next mission would be confirmed soon, which meant there was still a lot Shin had to prepare between now and then. He had come here to clear his head–still in his uniform, interestingly enough–but now it was time to return to the barracks.

Shin stood, his mind already going over all the necessary steps. I'll have to confirm a few things with… Right. She wasn't here. Maybe that was for the best. Things would surely work out between them; he just had to give it time, that's all.

Strange. For some reason that notion didn't make his insides churn like it did before. He remembered talking about it with someone. …Raiden and Theo. Right, that was it. "I have to get going. Thanks again."

"Any time," the boy said brightly.

Shin felt a little guilty for not even knowing his name, but the redhead didn't seem to notice or mind that much. Besides, he was just someone Shin happened to run into and ask a question. They'll forget about each other before the end of the day.

As Shin started the walk back to the military base, however, he thought he heard a chuckle. "'Dream', he says."

Shin was curious for a second, but only a second. He had things to do.

Besides, if there was anything to wonder about, it was the fact that, for some reason, he had a screw in his pocket.