No More Than Fifteen Light-Years Away

Southern Italy. Mediterranean Sea, Ionian Sea region.

Control to Starboard, you're at your maximum altitude. Lower your height.

The man seated in the cockpit shakes his head at the echoing voice.

Starboard here. That's not possible.

He states firmly and pulls the joystick towards him.

His F-15J Eagle lifts its nose in response.

An altitude of 15,000 meters The F-15J Eagle has a margin of about 4,000 up to its practical limit. The air is thin at high altitudes. As a result, the aircraft begins to lose its stability and act up. It's a desperate climb that could be considered suicidal if one step goes wrong. Regardless, Starboard—Riku Hoshiita—continues to pull his joystick towards ascent.

All our teammates have been shot down. Well, except me and him. And this is nothing . . .

He grits his teeth under the load of the ascent and glances at the instruments.

The jet's fuel consumption is nominal.

There are no enemy aircraft on the radar sight.

There is only a short time left until the end of the ACM (air combat maneuvering) exercise.

I can do it. I have to do it.

My intuition is telling me.

If we don't get any more points, we won't be able to go any further!

A suicidal dive from high altitude. As he cuts through an altitude of 10,000 meters, three aircraft appears in his sights. Two are enemy aircraft. The one fleeing is his wingman.

In the midst of a supersonic flight, Riku gauges the exact distance. If he can just lock on, he would be credited with shooting down an enemy. But the enemy is under the same conditions. A momentary misjudgment could cost him his life.

Riku accelerates even more. Cutting through the enemy aircraft, he dives down like a comet.

First one down!

He locks onto one as they pass each other to score a kill. Then he immediately pulls the joystick up to recover his altitude forcefully. The aircraft groans under the sudden load.

You've descended too fast! This isn't a test to see the limits of your aircraft! It's not like you're a test pilot or—

I'm not a test pilot, nor do I intend to become one.

Cutting off the transmission from control, Riku concentrates harder.

I'm not asking for anything more than a passing score, and I'm tired of this view.

He levels off to accelerate at full throttle. The deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea gleams beneath him. His aircraft gains speed, reaching its top speed of Mach 1.6. He can tell that the enemy aircraft that were pursuing his wingman are now focused on him. Feeling the presence of the enemy aircraft from behind and above, Riku pulls on the joystick and raises his nose.

Let's go as far as we can!

The energy of the F-15J Eagle instantly veers upward, causing a rapid ascent that exceeds the normal rate of climb, something that cannot be achieved by wing lift alone. As if piercing the clear, blue sky, Riku's F-15J Eagle soars into the air at supersonic speeds. A high-pitched, sonic boom echoes—the F-15J Eagle cries out in agony tearing through the hard air.

Hang in there, my F-15J Eagle. Just a few more seconds.

The climbing effect gained from zoom-climbing maneuvers is only temporary.

But for Riku right now, this was more than enough.

This is it!

He throttles down from a vertical climb. The F-15J Eagle stalls dramatically and starts to fall from the tail end.

The enemy aircraft trailing from behind zooms right past Riku.

Riku quickly corrects his position and takes aim.

That's a kill! That puts me at the top score!

Riku lets out a cheer in the cramped cockpit. As if expressing his exultation, he banks the aircraft left and right and then starts climbing again. Once he climbs higher than anyone else, his emotions surge, as he draws a transparent heart on the canvas of the sky.

The sunshine pouring down from the Mediterranean is dazzling.

To Riku, that sunlight seems like a spotlight praising his achievements.

○

Southern Italy. Galatina base, outside the city of Lecce.

The top individual score went to Hoshiita from Japan. Congratulations!

Prompted by the Italian instructor, applause thunders from all around. Riku raises his hand slightly in response, ignoring the bitter expression on his squadron leader Moriya's face at the edge of his vision.

The final acrobatic move that was popular with some, was seen as a waste of fuel by his direct superior.

With this, the joint Japan-Italy training held at the International Flight Training School (IFTS) comes to a successful end. Riku and the others are set to leave the Galatina base tomorrow.

Galatina base, built in the middle of a desolate grassland, is a pilot training institution boasting one of the world's leading integrated training systems. The integrated training, which includes Italy's top company, Leonardo—a leader in the civil and military aviation sector in Europe, is advanced and unparalleled worldwide. In 2021, the Japan Air Self-Defense Force declared its participation in this training as part of its next-generation aircraft pilot training program.

Joint training began the following year. It is important to note that it is extremely rare for Japan to conduct fighter pilot training outside the United States. Of course, there are strong diplomatic aspects, and only those who won't embarrass themselves abroad are allowed to participate from the Air Self-Defense Force.

Why Riku Hoshiita—who has had behavioral problems in the past—was chosen, was largely for the purpose of showing off his outstanding air combat skills to other countries.

The existence of an exceptional pilot like Riku could potentially serve as a deterrent against potential aerial attacks from other countries.

This concludes the training. Everyone, gather in the dining hall in ten minutes.

At the instructor's words, smiles spread across the participants' lips.

Let us treat you to a small party!

As the instructor lifts the corners of his mouth, a second round of applause erupted.

The city of Lecce is located at the heel of Italy, which resembles a boot. Due to the high-latitude of the location, the sun sets slowly in this region, and night doesn't fall until after eight in the evening.

In the noisy dining hall, Riku sits at a table by the window. As he notices the lingering sun on the horizon, he sips on a cola.

Hoshiita, what about wine? There's no point in coming to Italy if all you're drinking is Pepsi.

A middle-aged man sits down uninvited in front of Riku—the Captain of the Italian Air Force. In his left hand, he holds a bottle of red wine, and in his right, two glasses. He was practically saying—

I won't let you go home without drinking tonight!

A strong determination could be discerned from deep within his chiseled face, framed by a rich mustache.

Sure, I'll have some wine.

Riku nods in resignation and accepts a glass.

Again, Hoshiita, you truly had an outstanding performance. You're undoubtedly a pilot with world-class skills. I regret that you weren't born in Italy!

Thanks, I was told the same thing in America, Sir.

That your F-15J Eagle and your buddy are unfortunate to be paired with you?

I was told that too.

Riku raises the corner of his mouth into a smirk as he raises his glass. The flight captain responds with a hearty laugh. The two glasses filled with red wine sparkle as they catch the sunlight streaming in through the window.

They exchange a toast, and raise their glasses to their lips. The flight captain gulps down the wine as if drinking water. Riku, who isn't good with alcohol, quickly gives up on matching his pace. The night will be long anyway. There's no reason to go all out at the start.

You know, thank you for the day before yesterday. It was kind of you to let me aboard your aircraft despite it being a bit of a stretch. Opportunities to touch anything other than our own models are rare, so it was really educational for me!

Oh, it's nothing. If it served as a good learning experience for you, I'm glad. But there's something I want to ask you.

Sure, but I doubt there's much I could share with you, Sir.

It's not about techniques. It's about your aspirations. What exactly are you aiming for?

What's this all of a sudden?

Your flying—no, your way of life has an undeniable recklessness to it. To put it bluntly, you're too rash. What are you looking at? Don't you have someone important waiting for you back home?

Riku is taken aback by the words that came from behind the Captain's thick beard.

Well, you see—

He started to speak but then closed his mouth. A lukewarm breeze blows through the open window, gently caressing Riku's cheek, loosening a plug in his memory.

He was raised in an unremarkable coastal town in Kanagawa Prefecture. The backdrop of his boring town was filled with the figures of his grandparents, who raised him in place of his parents who divorced when he was young. It was also filled by the face of his first love, who colored his youth, and still left a vivid trail in his heart.

The faces of those who believed in a young Riku, supported his dreams, and pushed him forward is something he couldn't forget even if he wanted to—not that he plans to, of course. Because he had been busy with his squadron duties, he hadn't been in touch as much as he'd like. They are indeed the important people, and he couldn't face them without making something of himself first.

I do have important people. And it's because of them that I'm pushing myself to the limit here.

Saying so, he takes a sip of wine.

I want to make my mark, even if it means being reckless. I want to stand tall before the folks back home. Reality is made up of inevitable accumulations. That's my belief, at least. That's why I can keep up with the mundane, grueling effort. If actions create inevitability, and if dreams are the fruition of this inevitability, then I can endure any harsh training. That's all there is to it.

I see.

Mm-hmm.

Riku firmly sets his jaw.

Again, the Captain mumbled under his breath.

I see.

Hey, Hoshiita.

What's up, Captain Mustache? You're quite chatty today. Too much wine, maybe? Here's something good for you, managing your condition is also part of a pilot's job—

No, that's not it. I'm trying to say, be careful.

Be careful? Me?

Yes, you've stood out a bit too much today.

The Captain's fingers linger on his wine bottle as he fixes upon Riku with a steady gaze.

Riku feels his throat tighten under the Captain's gaze.

Your aerial combat skills are impressive, but they're also a threat. Your techniques have the potential to significantly enhance a nation's air supremacy. After today's dog fight training, it was clear. You're a war god for allied nations, and a grim reaper for the hostiles.

You're overestimating me, Sir. Besides, my aerial combat skills will eventually become unnecessary. Sooner or later, fighter pilots will vanish, and be replaced by drones.

But that sooner or later isn't today or tomorrow.

A drop of red wine falls from the bottle.

As you yourself said, countries around the world are pouring their hearts into developing unmanned combat aircraft. They are seeking steel birds that fly stronger and more cunningly. However, these steel birds are still little chicks. They need a parent bird to teach them how to fly. For example, an excellent and fierce parent bird like you.

What are you getting at, Sir?

In other words. Every country wants you. If they record and analyze your aerial combat data, they can produce as many steel birds that rival Starboard, the pinnacle of modern pilots.

Well, isn't that a bad joke.

Is it really a joke, though? I've heard that your coming here was strongly recommended by the U.S. and Australia. It's not hard to imagine that there were some dealings behind the scenes, including the provision of your aerial combat data.

Are you even allowed to say that?

As a soldier, no. But I'm saying this as a friend.

Wiping the fallen droplet of wine with his fingertip, the captain narrows his eyes.

Hoshiita, let me warn you again, as a friend. Be careful. Enemies aren't just in the sky. There are people who want to use you as a diplomatic ace in their sleeves, and others who fear your wings and seek to clip them. If you only look upward for your own sake, you won't notice the traps set at your feet.

Are you saying I'll be eliminated? No way. I'm neither a politician nor a scientist.

History isn't only influenced by great politicians or renowned scientists. Anyone with courage and ingenuity has the potential to become a hero.

You're giving me too much credit, Sir. I have no intention of becoming a parent bird or anyone's combat fairy!

Well, that would be ideal. Hmm. Looks like our bottle's empty. Let's get another.

The Captain snaps his fingers, catching the attention of the Italian pilots who seemed to have been waiting for a signal to come over.

Surrounded by the noisy atmosphere, Riku finally realizes the Captain had cleared the room to offer his advice. That thought mades Riku's palms sweat.

What the . . . Looks like he was serious . . .

A faint sense of impatience stirs in his chest. Politics and diplomacy were never Riku's strong suits. The sky he chose to live in was supposed to be simpler, more straightforward. Just higher. Just faster. That was supposed to be enough to see the views he desired.

Even as an adult, Riku struggled with the rules and society created by adults, including the ones he started conforming to. Why wasn't this world filled with hope and expectations?

He wants to break free. To travel one lightyear away, or even two, just to get far away from all of these constraints.

He forcefully swallows the bitter wine, trying to forget the earlier conversation by engaging with the pilots gathering around. They are chatting about anything and everything—training gripes, secrets of Riku's flying techniques, favorite aircraft, models they wanted to fly, what they liked about Italy, their families, and their love interests. The Captain's concerns started to feel like a joke.

That's right. I just need to keep doing what I've been doing. Just go far away.

Riku stands up and slides out from the circle of drunken pilots. The alcohol made his steps light. He picks up some cheese from a table at the edge of the dining hall, looking for a comfortable spot.

He spots a good place in his peripheral vision.

Hey Terai, there's chocolate cake over there. I bet even you couldn't eat all of that.

He approaches his quietly dining buddy and speaks up, but his buddy doesn't respond. Instead, Terai gives Riku a glancing look of annoyance before focusing back on her plate.

What's with the mood? Are you that upset about coming in second?

Of course I'm upset!

She retorts sharply, stuffing her mouth with prosciutto.

Risa Terai, as her furrowed brows indicate, is fiercely competitive. She and Riku have been classmates in aeronautics school, both now twenty-six, always competing for the top spot in aerial combat techniques and academics. It was impossible to say they didn't have a rivalry.

Hey, hey, no need to yell.

While speaking, Riku takes a seat in front of her.

I have every reason to yell. You come here with that smug look, using me as bait! I managed to escape, but if it had been any other pilot, they would have been shot down by then.

That's exactly why I chose you as bait. I couldn't trust anyone else with it.

You think you're so smooth . . .

Risa grumbles, putting another piece of prosciutto into her mouth.

What I can't forgive is how you handled the last aircraft. Was that tailslide really necessary? Any novice in the basic piloting course knows that such a maneuver could cause a frame-out and crash. You were just lucky this time, don't forget that!

But I heard the F-15J could handle it. Besides, it's in situations like that you should try new things. Otherwise, there'll be no personal growth.

What kind of growth requires putting your own life in danger? I'm tired of your showboating and gut-based decisions. It's hard to trust you when you keep pulling stunts like that.

Receiving a heated glare, Riku exaggeratedly purses his lips.

Sighing shallowly, Risa continues.

You're strong, Riku. But you're also reckless.

Come on, spare me the lecture. I just got a mouthful of 'precious words' from Captain Mustache earlier. And sooner or later, I'm probably going to get grilled by Moriya. Let me at least enjoy some drinks with my classmate.

You're reckless, that's what you are.

You're still going on about this?

Is it true you've applied to transfer to the Space Operations Group?

Caught off guard, Riku becomes visibly flustered.

How did you know about that, Terai?

It's all about information warfare these days. It only makes sense to be in-the-know about everything!

Calling mere rumors a form of information warfare, are we? Riku can't help but scoff as he sips his wine.

So, your silence means there's truth to it?

Risa's counterattack is swift.

Riku slightly retracts his chin in acknowledgment.

Well, yeah, that's about right.

What do you plan to achieve by moving to the Space Operations Group? That place mainly monitors space debris. It's not a place where your skills can shine.

My skills might not be utilized there, but it'll be beneficial for my future.

The future? Does the future of a genius pilot really require experience in monitoring space junk?

Don't make fun of me, but I want to become an astronaut.

An . . . astronaut?

Muttering, Risa casts him a probing look.

Riku resigns himself to the inevitable, scratching his head vigorously.

Yeah, that's right.

He crosses his arms.

It's been my dream since I was a kid. I never say anything because I hate being questioned about it. People just give me that lukewarm look, as if it's never going to happen. I've lived my life aspiring to be like the pilots in 'Armageddon' and 'Interstellar,' not 'Top Gun' or 'The Best Guy.' There should be room for pilots like that, right?

Riku says this with a deliberately jesting tone.

But Risa just narrows her eyes, not offering any words in return.

Feeling awkward, Riku continues talking instead of leaving his seat, the alcohol making him more eloquent.

As much as I'm hailed as a genius pilot, there is a narrow gate to enter in order to become an astronaut. That's why I want a background related to space. I've thought this through. Besides, look, in the astronaut selection two cycles ago, there were two pilots, one of them was a Self-Defense Force pilot. Three-quarters of the crew for the Artemis II mission scheduled to land on the moon next year are former fighter pilots. And then there's Captain Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, both former fighter pilots. I intend to follow in their footsteps.

I see. So eventually, you'll be leaving the Self-Defense Forces.

Risa murmurs quietly.

Yeah . . . that's what it comes down to.

I see.

You should be happy. Your role as my decoy will soon be over.

It seems you never really consider how others feel.

I do consider others' feelings, you know.

I said 'it seems.' I don't know what you actually think, nor do I want to know. But as someone who is always by your side, it's unbearable. Keeping up my pride while being dragged along because of your goals is exhausting.

What are you talking about, Risa? You're excellent. I guarantee it. The only one who can keep up with my recklessness is you.

That ignorance of yours is infuriating. In the end, it's all just words. You're not really seeing the people around you, not even me.

What's with that tone? I mean—

I'm planning to fly the F-35B Lightning.

Riku is taken aback by her words.

You look surprised. When I get back, I'll be undergoing conversion training with Major Moriya.

This is news to him. Or was it really?

The F-35B Lightning is a state-of-the-art stealth fighter capable of short takeoff and vertical landing (STOVL), with eighteen units scheduled to be deployed in Japan within the fiscal year. It's a critical part of the defense capabilities enhancement plan, with operations starting at the Nyutabaru Base in 2024.

In fact, including those flown by Riku and his peers, the nearly two hundred F-15J planes that are currently in service are aging considerably.

While it's certain that younger F-15J pilots, including Riku and Risa, will transition into flying the F-35B in the near future, the limited number of aircraft means that only a select few have been invited to participate so far.

Riku had indeed received an invitation to transition, which was the natural thing to do. If they were selecting the best, it was inevitable he would be chosen. However, accepting the transition would make it difficult to transfer to the Space Operations Group, as it would mean being treated as a rare and valuable F-35B pilot.

That's why Riku had promptly declined the invitation, an act he forgot he made until this very moment.

He had no real interest in who else was chosen, to be honest.

Risa, you're going to fly the F-35B . . . Are you going to become a carrier pilot on the Izumo?

Riku sips his wine, trying to maintain his composure by stroking his chin.

Yes, that's the plan.

Risa nodded nonchalantly.

In a few years, Izumo will be converted into a light aircraft carrier. Once it's converted, we'll be able to launch F-35Bs from it. I want to be one of those pilots, fighting on the front lines.

Why are you so fixated on the front line? You chose aeronautics over the National Defense Academy, so I know you're not interested in climbing the ranks, but you're also top of your class academically. You could quit being crew and aim for a higher command position. If you try becoming the Chief of Staff or the Minister of Defense—coming from an aeronautics background, you could make history!

Life's all about self-fulfillment. Climbing the ranks is just a means to an end. There's no point if you don't become who you want to be. I want to be someone who gives hope to people like me.

Before she knew it, Risa was gripping the stem of her glass tightly.

The version of herself that Risa aspires to be might carry more weight than Riku realizes. That much was clear from the expression on her face, especially given that many are still barred from becoming pilots simply because of their gender.

In Japan, there have been only three female fighter pilots to date, and that includes Risa.

Even though the Self-Defense Forces opened up jobs to women in 1993, the assignment of women officers to fighter and reconnaissance aircraft was restricted from a standpoint of maternal protection. It wasn't until 2015 that women were allowed to pilot these aircraft—after almost a decade from when women were allowed to join the Force.

And even if one does become a pilot, the there isn’t a great foundation for women receiving proper recognition in Japan.

The fact that Risa participated in the Italy-Japan joint training exercise was undoubtedly due to her merit, but there are those who think otherwise. Some view the inclusion of a female pilot as nothing more than a show, a mascot for gender equality—which was always looked at with a skewed perspective in Japan.

The gap between fighter jets and women still seems insurmountable.

Hoshiita, you once told me there's no need to listen to voices filled with envy or resentment. As long as we know our own worth, it’s okay. Because we are creatures faster than sound after all.

Ah yes, I did say that.

You're not even listening to what I’m saying.

What are you talking about? I can hear you, loud and clear.

Back in our flight school days, I told you I’d become the best pilot in this country, recognized by everyone. That I would never lose, in training or in actual combat.

Yeah, I remember that. And you should become just that, I know you can do it.

You really . . . never mind.

With that, Risa quietly gets up from her seat.

Hey, Risa. You still have some wine left.

I left it on purpose. I don't need it anymore.

After walking a few steps, Terai stops and glances over her shoulder at Riku.

I'll watch your back. You can head off into space or wherever with peace of mind.

Her tall figure recedes into the distance. Riku, still seated by the window, aimlessly drops his gaze onto the leftover wine glass.

What's with her?

He isn’t filled with anger, nor irritation, but a vague sense of loneliness spreads across Riku's chest.

Outside the window, the skies have grown dark, with thousands of lights twinkling in the sky. All of them are stars. He remembered reading a story about an astronaut, scratching his head. Why are human relationships and life so complicated compared to the sky? My dream is my own, Terai's dream is hers. Isn't that enough?

. . . It should be.

Unconsciously, a sigh escapes from his lips. Today, for some reason, the Milky Way felt far away. He had even forgotten that today was the Star Festival until just now.

The next day, leaving Italy behind, Riku returned to the Komatsu Base in Ishikawa Prefecture, and Terai to the Nyutabaru Base in Miyazaki Prefecture. The two were unaware of each other's whereabouts afterward. After all, they weren't in the kind of relationship that warranted frequent contact or speculation from those around them.

Riku continued to fight on the front lines of national defense. Wearing the proud emblem of the dog-eagle squadron on his chest, he flew through Japan's airspace at speeds surpassing sound, only to collapse onto his bed at the end of every day, utterly exhausted.

He was so busy that he didn't even have time to check his phone for updates from family, or any of his emails.

Shortly after returning home, he was scouted by the flight training squadron. Known as Aggressors, it's a Top Gun-like unit in the Japan Air Self-Defense Force, comprising only select veterans.

For Riku—who was in his mid-twenties—to be approached is an extraordinary exception.

How about it, Hoshiita?

The invitation comes directly from the instructor captain at the time.

No, I'm . . . well, it's just that—

Space, huh?

Yes, that's right.

I see. I heard you turned down the F35 conversion course and an invitation to be a test pilot in the Flight Test Squadron. If you're that determined, there's nothing I can do. I'll be waiting, in case you ever change your mind.

Despite continuing to apply for a transfer to the Space Operations Group, fortune was not on his side, and none of his requests were granted.

But Riku didn't voice any particular dissatisfaction. After all, scrambling more than a thousand times a year, the ongoing threats and strategic countermeasures gave him no time to think about the future. He was also acutely aware of the current situation: where a reduction in the number of fighter pilots on the Force—whose training costs a huge amount of resources—was not an option.

Amidst this, a series of suspicious incidents began occurring around the Komatsu Base where Riku was stationed.

Recently, mysterious balloons frequently appeared and then vanished within the air defense identification zone. Though presumed to be foreign observational equipment, their sudden appearances and close brushes of the restricted airspace were enough to cause considerable stress to the personnel tasked with responding.

What in the world are they aiming for?

Riku's superior officer frequently wore a grimace, as if he had a bitter pill stuck in his throat.

The situation took a sudden turn one late summer day.

That day, a suspicious balloon breached the air defense identification zone and entered into Japan's airspace, drifting over the Sea of Japan while emitting faint radio signals. Riku, who was ordered to shoot it down, rushed to the designated airspace and quickly neutralized the security threat.

But the welcome Riku received upon his return was far from celebratory.

The Self-Defense Forces' decision to expose the nation to danger is inappropriate! The treatment of the pilot who shot it down is now in question.

It was unthinkable. Investigations later confirmed the balloon contained no dangerous materials, and since it was shot down over the sea, there was no harm to civilians. In fact, allowing it to remain in our airspace could have posed a greater risk to national security.

Still, online articles freely twisted the story to boost their views.

It was premature to destroy it in the air.

The balloon might have contained dangerous materials.

How dare they aim weapons at another country's property?

Wasn't there room to consider options other than using firearms?

Eventually, there were even claims of 'A self-staged drama by the Defense Ministry to increase defense spending.'

That's absurd. It couldn't possibly be true.

Amidst the uproar, Riku was grounded, forbidden from flying. It felt unjust, but he spent his days advancing through ground training and studies without complaint. All he could do was to follow his orders, believing in the justice of his actions. There wasn't a single wrongdoing that he had committed. He believed that achieving what he believed was right would lead to the right future.

So when the Defense Ministry unexpectedly announced his discharge without any forewarning, Riku was filled more with questions than shock.

Why do I have to be the one to leave?

But no matter how much he pondered, there were no answers to be found.

Why does Hoshiita have to resign!

It didn't take long for a chorus of strong opposition to rise from the air force members who admired Riku. Led by the highly respected Major Moriya, petition letters flooded in from bases nationwide.

Yet in the end, Riku's return to flight duties was not to be.

It was only after the petitions were collected that he learned that the foreign ministry was prioritizing relations with a neighboring country, apparently exerting pressure on the defense ministry. Days later, news broke that a previously troubled cooperation agreement in the AI sector with the neighboring country had been miraculously concluded, leaving Riku speechless.

But knowing all of this did nothing to change the outcome of this high-level political game.

As a compromise, a job transfer outside of the air fleet was offered to Riku, whose wings had now been clipped. By then, the Space Operations Group had its budget cut, and were no longer accepting additional personnel.

Soon after this, the Hamamatsu Education and Training Group expressed willingness to take him in, but Riku declined the internal offer and expressed his intention to resign.

It has been just two years after his training in Italy.

His resignation became effective at the end of March 2025.

At 5:30 PM on a summer afternoon, every step he takes feels heavy. The heat-soaked asphalt slows down his pace. Perhaps because it's the weekend, a continuous stream of people trickle out of Shibuya Station. Jingu-dori Street is dizzyingly hot.

Damn, it's hot.

This is Riku Hoshiita's second visit to the employment office in Shibuya. The citizens he once protected with his life walked the streets without a hint of crisis awareness, thanks to his former colleagues still guarding the skies. This thought filled him with pride, but also with frustration.

He diverts his gaze from the crowd and exhales into the muggy air. A crow traces a path across the sunset sky, captivating him with its smooth flight, as his smartphone vibrates near his thigh.

Oh, it's Grandpa.

Smartphone in hand, his grandfather's raspy voice comes through.

I'm fine, really. Don't worry. Finding a new job is a piece of cake. And Grandpa, you're calling from a landline, right? What happened to your cellphone? Lost it again? How many times is this now? Huh? Stuck on level 6-7?Don't change the subject. Yeah, sure, sure. I'll visit soon. Yeah. Nope, you don’t need to worry about my job search.

Unconsciously, he finds himself putting up a front.

The prospect of reemployment is still nowhere in sight. Yet, Riku can’t muster the courage to admit this to his grandfather who raised him.

Make sure you're using the A/C, staying hydrated, and getting enough salt. It's supposed to be another hot year. Yeah, it’s fine. We can always talk. Uh-huh. Talk to you later.

He ends the call somewhat curtly.

Stopping at a signal, he opens a job-hunting site on his phone. Riku applied mainly to space development companies, but jobs in space were scarce, and typically required a postgraduate degree in science. This puts someone like him, who graduated high school and joined the Self-Defense Forces as an aviation student, at a disadvantage.

Yet, Riku refuses to settle when it comes to choosing his career. He is determined to reach space. After all, he had once effortlessly piloted aircraft faster than the speed of sound. Compared to that, he couldn't see why he couldn't navigate through the slow-moving vehicle of life that progressed by mere days or weeks.

That's right. I'll definitely make my dreams come true. There's no way I'm stopping here.

The traffic light switches from red to green. Riku sees this simple change as a good omen, boosting his confidence. After all, no signal stays red forever. His life is just at a red light for now. The time to move forward will come soon. Amidst the flow of people around Shibuya's Scramble Crossing, Riku keeps his gaze up high.

Seriously? Foolish hopefuls all around.

It was as if a voice had read Riku's mind, striking his ears.

Riku turns towards the source of the voice. There, a bun tied atop her head bobbed through the crowd. Dressed in a drop-shoulder shirt, short pants, and canvas sneakers, she looks like a middle schooler or at best a high schooler from her height. The size of her backpack emphasizes her petite frame.

I wasn't exactly talking to you. It was more to the people around. Anyway, I need to rush to the hospital. The photos I'm about to send need to be analyzed and shared properly. Huh? If you claim to be from the Space Guard Association, you should be able to handle at least that much without relying on me. Really useless.

Standing in the middle of the Scramble Crossing, the girl mutters something into her tablet. Though some gave her odd looks, no one stopped. Many didn't even spare her a glance. In the bustling metropolis of Shibuya, and especially at the Scramble Crossing, someone muttering to themselves isn’t necessarily unusual.

She aims the back of her tablet towards the sky to snap a photo.

Like I just told you, I’m going to the hospital. Yes, for my sister's check-up. Don't make me say all this again.

Upon closer inspection, she has wireless earbuds in her ears.

It appears she’s talking to someone through her earphones.

Unlike the fools around here, I can't afford to live life leisurely. I need to get to the hospital quickly and make sure at least my family is safe . . . Oh no, I’m getting some interference. I might get cut off soon—ah, darn it, just as I said.

The girl clicks her tongue as the tablet screen goes dark.

She's an unusual one.

Despite his thoughts, Riku, like the other pedestrians, does not attempt to speak to her.

That's why I told you to get in touch with me sooner . . . Ah, forget it.

The irritation is evident in the bits and pieces of her muttered complaints. What is she so angry about? What kind of person is she? Deciding to take a look at her face, Riku turns his gaze, only to be rendered speechless by her profile.

He recognizes her.

A memory from the distant past, yet unforgettable.

The front gate of the middle school. A dimly lit entrance. A classroom bathed in the sunset after school.

Riku, you know . . .

Even the sound of her laughter . . .

The girl staring at the sky in the middle of Shibuya bears a striking resemblance to his first love.

Riku stands frozen, unable to move.

Finally, the signal starts to blink. The girl mutters impatiently.

Come on!

She runs towards the east side of Shibuya Station, heading towards Miyamasuzaka.

Before he knew it, Riku starts chasing after her. The length of her hair and her taste in clothing were different in the details, but he can't help chasing after the girl who resembled ‘her’ so much.

The girl sprints down the sidewalk stretching under the JR Shibuya Station overpass. Her small figure quickly blends into the crowd. Even for a former Self-Defense Force member like Riku, the chase becomes difficult amidst the throngs of people. He curses the crowd, remembering today was Sunday, settling for a click of his tongue.

Losing sight of her as he reaches the intersection at the bottom of Miyamasuzaka, Riku looks around, and his eyes catches a red traffic light urging him to stop.

That's right. What am I gonna do if I catch up to her? Call out to her or something?

A sense of guilt starts to bubble up.

A jobless man in his late twenties chasing after a teenage girl he doesn't know? That's just . . .

. . . Creepy.

As he was lost in thought, the signal changes, causing the mass of people to surge forward with Riku in tow. Catching a glimpse of the girl's profile again, Riku's legs move on their own, and for the first time, he resents his own impulsive nature.

The girl stops at the first-floor entrance of Shibuya Hikarie. In front of her stands a short-haired woman.

Even from afar, it is clear the girl is gesturing and pleading about something to the woman. Riku gradually slows his pace and wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. A blast of air conditioning from above nearly pushes him back.

Did you manage to get a picture of the sky, Venus?

The short-haired woman asks the girl.

Yeah, I’m all done with that. Let's hurry to the hospital.

I really want to rush too, but . . .

No 'buts'!We're going now!

The girl with the bun hairstyle begins to pull on the reluctant woman's hand to start walking. After taking a step, she immediately stops, looking around suspiciously.

Wait, where's Koumei? Why isn't he here?

She wears a puzzled look.

Oh, he said something about going to the bathroom . . .

Ugh, that man really has the worst timing!

The girl stomps her feet in frustration while the woman with short hair responds with a wry smile.

He’ll be right back.

Meanwhile, Riku stands frozen in place, merely watching the two of them side by side until he finally speaks.

Asano . . . ?

He murmurs softly.

It happened quickly after that murmur. Riku, who had stopped himself in his tracks, resumes walking almost immediately.

The faces of the people passing by are of no interest to Riku.

He is focused solely on one thing—her face, a real, live, face with no sepia tone.

Asano.

He murmurs again, prompting the woman with short hair to turn around.

Their eyes meet.

Could it be?

Her mouth hangs open in surprise.

Riku . . . ?

Riku silently nods in response.

With no doubt in the world, standing before him is the woman Riku had first fallen in love with.

●

Riku first met her, Mercury Asano, at their middle school’s entrance ceremony.

At the time, the chlorine from his swimming lessons had bleached Riku's hair light brown. Among the black-haired freshmen, it was undeniable that Riku stood out. Right after the entrance ceremony, getting stopped by the teacher for student guidance was regrettable, yet perhaps unavoidable.

It's just chlorine damage from the pool.

Are you sure you didn't dye it on purpose?

Why would I go out of my way to do that?

Riku retorted to the teacher. Indeed, it was an unjust accusation, and a simple "Riku’s telling the truth!" from someone could have easily resolved this ridiculous argument.

However, his friends from elementary school either found it funny to watch the angry Riku from a distance or, fearing being targeted by the teachers on the first day, pretended not to see and didn’t intervene.

Internally sticking his tongue out at those heartless folks, Riku thought.

I guess it's best to avoid trouble when you can.

He harbored a somewhat resigned feeling, knowing he would probably do the same if the roles were reversed.

Excuse me, teacher.

Amidst his inner back-and-forth, he was surprised by this interrupting voice. Turning around, there stood a freshman girl with a flower corsage on her chest. She was a short-haired girl with distinct facial features.

Um, this person really does swim. My sister, she goes to the swimming school in front of the station . . .

Suddenly appearing, she turned her face away, unexpectedly cutting her sentence short. Her gaze followed the other students passing by, who left behind their jeers.

Wow, trouble on the first day?

Standing out too much, huh?

They whispered and giggled among themselves.