"Hey, Brother Noya, why haven't you gone back yet?"
A familiar voice called out from the right side of the training ground.
Saved.
Aisaka Noya turned his head in relief and saw Rosin walking toward him. Pretending to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Noya smiled casually. "I'll head back soon. Still got plenty of energy tonight, so I figured I'd squeeze in a bit more training."
"Oh."
Rosin nodded drowsily. He was in pajamas, holding a carton of milk, his messy blond hair making him look like he was sleepwalking.
Noya knew immediately what was going on. Rosin had this odd habit — whenever he couldn't sleep, he'd wander out to buy a carton of milk, drink it, and then head straight back to bed.
"Let's go. We'll walk back together," Noya said, grabbing the jacket hanging on the wall.
Rosin, still half-asleep and clueless about the situation, followed beside him. The two left the training grounds together, chatting idly as they made their way toward the men's dormitory building.
Noya never once looked back. He didn't dare.
Because under that dim streetlight behind them, Shia was still standing there. And if he turned around — if she called out to him — another melodramatic scene straight out of a romance drama might unfold.
He wanted no part of that.
By the time they reached the fifth floor of the dormitory, Noya risked one glance through the corridor railing.
The black streetlight still burned faintly in the distance, but the weeping silhouette beneath it was gone.
Looks like Shia's calmed down, he thought.
Noya replayed the earlier scene at the training ground in his mind. After thinking it over carefully, he confirmed that not once — not even for a second — had his heart skipped a beat. The only thing he'd felt was a bit of guilt when he saw her tears.
So there was no problem.
Since he didn't like her, it was better to make that rejection clear. Leading a girl on — flirting while pretending to be unsure — that was the lowest kind of scumbag behavior. Even if his "Love System" rewarded him for it, he wasn't about to take that path.
Aisaka Noya prided himself on being honest with his feelings. He wasn't an oblivious brick wall, but he still followed his own moral code — a bit old-fashioned, maybe, but clean.
Satisfied with his reasoning, Noya knocked on the dorm door.
After a short pause, the door swung open, and a tall figure loomed in the doorway.
It was Shiryu, his expression dark and clearly annoyed at being woken.
"Well, look who finally decided to come back," Shiryu sneered. "Our training maniac himself. You usually show up around eight, but tonight it's almost ten. For a second there, I thought it was morning roll call."
Then his gaze flicked upward.
"And you!" he barked, glaring at Rosin. "You go out in the middle of the night to buy milk — and you forget your key again?"
"M–Me…" Rosin flinched under the glare, taking a step back as if Shiryu's stare could kill. "I… I wasn't really awake… I just wanted milk and forgot…"
Shiryu's eyes narrowed dangerously, scanning the two of them like a hawk sizing up prey.
"I promise, we'll come back earlier next time!" Noya said quickly, his tone full of false sincerity. He even placed his right hand over his chest, looking deadly serious.
"Me too! I'll remember my key!" Rosin added meekly.
"…"
Shiryu stared at them for a long moment, his mind still foggy from sleep — but even in that half-conscious state, he had the strange feeling he'd heard this exact promise… dozens of times before.
Finally, he sighed, stepped aside, and let them in.
The moment the door shut, both Noya and Rosin flinched.
Two swift thuds landed on their heads — Shiryu's way of saying "welcome home."
Rubbing the growing lumps, they both winced.
Then, without warning, Shiryu snatched the milk carton right out of Rosin's hands. He tilted his head back and drank it in one long gulp.
Rosin just stood there, frozen, his expression blank with shock.
"Much better," Shiryu muttered, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Then he climbed back onto his bed, turned off the light, and was snoring within seconds.
"Brother Noya…" Rosin whimpered, turning to him with teary eyes.
"Just let it go," Noya said dryly. "He's doing it for your own good — you'd just wake up again in the middle of the night to pee anyway."
Without looking up, he sat down at his desk and flipped on the lamp.
As one of the elite trainees at Headquarters, his dorm setup was far better than a regular soldier's — spacious, with only three people to a room, complete with desks, wardrobes, and even a mini-fridge.
Noya's desk was buried in books: Essentials of Rokushiki Techniques, Swordsmanship for Combat Officers, Principles of Naval Strategy, Basic Ship Mechanics, and even case studies on battlefield tactics.
After all, the elite camp wasn't just for training fighters — it was for grooming future officers and generals. Academic work was limited in hours but absolutely required.
Noya unfolded a letter and smiled faintly.
"As expected… still the same old nagging."
It was a letter from home — delivered earlier that day by Gabu himself.
After reading it, Noya carefully folded it up and placed it in his drawer alongside another pink envelope from Berumere. Then he chewed thoughtfully on his pen, deciding how to reply.
His parents had written about the usual things: to work hard at Headquarters, not to disappoint Vice Admiral Gabu's guidance, to get along with his peers, to stay humble… all the typical parental advice.
He understood their care — and honestly, he found it kind of warm. Having family waiting for him back in Higashi Umi, even if they were nagging, was something he cherished deeply.
This time, though, writing his reply felt different.
For once, Noya had something to be proud of.
He began his letter seriously, responding to every concern — but as the words flowed, his mood lifted, and before long, he was making bold promises with unshakable confidence.
In his letter, he swore that by the time he graduated from the elite camp next year, he'd hold the rank of Major, already surpassing his father, who served as a Captain in the branch.
And beyond that, he'd become a Navy Admiral, with a grand villa at Headquarters in Marineland — where he'd bring his parents to live out their retirement in peace and honor, admired by everyone back home.
By the time he finished the letter, it was already past eleven.
Rosin was fast asleep — still milkless — while Shiryu's thunderous snoring filled the room.
Noya sealed his letter, planning to send it to Higashi Umi through the Navy's internal post tomorrow.
Stretching, he dimmed the lamp and stood up, ready to take a shower before bed.
But then, almost absentmindedly, he opened his System Panel — and froze.
His eyes went wide as he stared at the new entry flashing in the message log.