Chapter 3: Why is this happening to me!?

"Grab on!"

"Eek!?"

A violent impact slams into the armored vehicle as it speeds forward. Yeah, sure—real hilarious timing.

Jokes aside, we’re riding in an armored personnel carrier headed for a defensive outpost along the front line. I never mentioned it before, but I’m part of the Student Council—basically this world’s version of a government—and I honestly had no idea they owned something this extravagant. Not that I have the luxury to think about that right now.

"Multiple hostiles ahead! We’re… completely surrounded!"

"We’re breaking through! Just keep hanging on, you maggots!"

Even though I thought I’d finally escaped her by getting assigned to the front line, that damn instructor still followed us here as our squad leader, barking the same obnoxious orders as always. When we enlisted, she told us, "You’re all just fodder so I can get promoted," so she really might be planning to wring us dry. I don’t know which is worse—being sent off while she lounges safely in the rear, or having her right here yelling in my ear.

As I brace myself against the shaking vehicle and peer out the narrow window, I see multiple enemy students in gas masks encircling us with their own armored vehicles.

Is that… an anti-tank missile!? Was that what hit us just now!? Even an armored carrier won’t survive a direct hit! Are they trying to kill us!?

"Why…!? Was the front line breached!?"

"We’ve got no such intel. They’re probably guerrillas that strayed from the main force."

"This isn’t the kind of number you call ‘stray’!"

Two enemy vehicles—no, maybe three? Definitely not a group you can brush off as random stragglers. Damn it. What’s the frontline unit even doing? Getting wiped out before the reinforcement squad arrives is not funny. I don’t want to die here. Sure, dying in a muddy trench wouldn’t be any better than dying in some abandoned old city district far from the front… Actually, no—this is still better than a trench.

"Kou! You take the shot!"

"!? Y-yes, ma’am!!"

What!? She wants me to do it!?

I’d love to punch that mechanical-sounding face of hers right now, but I can’t. Orders from a superior are absolute. And if I even tried, I’d be the one getting punched.

I push open the top hatch and stick my head into the rushing air. We must be going pretty fast—the wind slams against my face with no mercy.

"That one…!"

Trailing close behind us, an enemy armored vehicle opens its hatch. What emerges is a big, nasty piece of hardware—a massive tube with an oversized, techy-looking scope. An anti-tank missile launcher. A Javelin, or something like it.

Doesn’t matter what it’s called. My job isn’t firearm commentary—it’s shooting her before she shoots us.

"Hey there, sweetheart. I’d love to keep this little date going, but the new boss is breathing down my neck."

"Sorry, but I was never interested in the first place…!"

Carefully but quickly, I line up my sights on the enemy soldier poking her head out of the hatch. I have to fire before she pulls the trigger. My target is just the bit of helmet sticking out from behind that chunky scope. Tiny target. Almost no time to aim.

But—

"You can do it. Right?"

My beloved Merlin responds—heavy, steady, reassuring in my hands.

"Turned me down, huh? Well… shame. Guess this is goodbye."

"That line’s mine, actually."

I don’t know who fired first. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that after a sharp crack of gunfire, Merlin’s bullet punches straight through the enemy’s ballistic helmet and drops her instantly. She must’ve pulled her trigger too—the missile fires from inside their own vehicle and blows it apart from within.

"…Yes!"

"Don’t let your guard down! More incoming!"

"Whoa!?"

BANG! A hard impact rattles the vehicle, followed by the hiss of bullets ripping overhead. A machine gun, maybe. I get yanked back into the carrier just in time—otherwise I’d be a perforated corpse right now.

"What’s wrong, kids? On a field trip? Big sisters like us can take you somewhere real nice."

"Hard pass!"

A horrible scraping—skrrrrk skrrrrk—fills the air as our vehicle is shoved sideways. They’re slamming into us so hard! Their engine must be stronger than ours; we’re being pushed off the center of the road and toward the sidewalk. Brute-force monsters…

"Brace for impact!"

"R-right!"

At the squad leader’s shout, I curl up, guarding my head with my arms—the proper shock-protection posture. Textbook perfect. Flawless form. But if I lacked anything, it was real combat experience.

The moment I brace myself, the vehicle slams into something—an obstacle, maybe—hard enough to shake everything. For a split second I feel like the world flips upside down. We must’ve hit with enough force to roll the carrier. Or… would this count as a forward roll? Whatever—our vehicle is overturned. And in the chaos I bite my tongue. Hard. Even if my body’s tougher than before, pain is still pain. It feels like I might’ve bitten a chunk off.

Not that I have time to check.

"If you’ve got time to bite your damn tongue, get out already!"

"Gwuh!?"

"You two, move it! Evacuate from the vehicle! Now!"

"Yes, ma’am!"

My squad leader grabs me by the back of the collar and drags me out. The moment we hit the outside, something inside the overturned carrier ignites, and flames erupt so fast it’s terrifying. A deafening blast roars out—the kind that could rupture your eardrums. Heat licks at my skin, prickling and burning.

"Eek!"

"Use the vehicle as cover and fall back! Aina—you’re rear guard! The rest of you, on me!"

You’ve got to be kidding me. Why? How did it come to this?

I—I only ever wanted a decent, ordinary kind of happiness. It’s not like I reached for anything unreasonable. I was kind to people. I always gave up my seat to the elderly. I never jaywalked or drank underage. I avoided anything forbidden. I worked hard—really hard—to build a happy future for myself. I studied more than anyone. I kept my body trained. I tried to live up to what my parents and everyone else expected.

Even after coming here, I did the same. I helped people whenever I could. Even after getting crushed once, I picked myself up and worked toward a modest future again.

"Lay down suppressive fire while retreating! It’s thin! Don’t give the enemy a chance to peek out!"

"Damn it! Take thi—ugh!?"

"Mayu!? Mayu’s down!!"

"Sniper! Can you see them!?"

"I can’t!"

"Do you have marbles shoved in your eye sockets!? Give me that!"

I did normal things. I aimed higher than normal. I tried to get normal happiness. And yet—yet this happens. Don’t screw with me. Don’t screw with me! Why do I have to go through all this!?

Damn them, damn them, damn them!!!

What did I do!? Did I do something wrong!? I didn’t, right!? I shouldn’t have!! This is ridiculous! It’s too unfair! Completely absurd! Unforgivable! It’s unforgivable, isn’t it!? Come out! Come out already! Whoever put me through this! You’re there, right!? You have to be! Otherwise—otherwise it doesn’t make sense! There has to be a reason! A cause! Something! Something for this kind of absurdity—there has to be—there has to—

"Eeeeek! They’re coming, they’re coming, they’re coming!!"

"Keep up the suppressive fire!"

"We can’t! If we pop out, the sniper will—!!"

"Ugh… I—I’m gonna throw up…"

…There isn’t?

Then what am I—what am I supposed to be angry at? What am I supposed to regret? What am I even—

"Kou!"

"…"

"Fuyou Kou!!"

"!? Y-yes!!"

"Fifth floor of the abandoned building straight ahead! Spotter or shooter—I don’t care which—you take the shot!"

"W-wait, m-me!?"

"If you can’t do it, we all die! You can do it!!"

Ahh… it’s unfair.

Why. Why. Why is it always me!?

"Why does this keep happening to me…!"