Although none of them have yet to speak, the heavy silence in the chief of command’s office weighs on everyone’s shoulders. “A ban has been ordered on the transportation of all commercial goods due to an unresponsive station,” the middle-aged man booms as he walks back and forth between each of his precious units, with both his hands clasped together behind his back. “We suspect it could be mutiny.”

Yuuta cannot help but blurt the words, “Finally, something to do around here!” as he punches the air, earning him an unimpressed stare from his commander and a slap to the back of his head administered by none other than Miranda.

“Don’t be a dick,” she hisses. “People might be dying!”

“Miranda! Language!”

“Right, sorry, my bad,”—are words both Miranda and Yuuta find themselves uttering in unison.

“Please excuse their behaviour,” Xander says with an apologetic nod and a hand rested against the back of his head. “They’re a bit—”

“I know what they are!” their commander snaps. “Anyway,” he clears his throat. “You are to go and resolve the problem. I don’t care how you do it, nor do I need to know, but make sure that the station is up and running again soon. The Gaian president enjoys his meat, and something tells me he wouldn’t be too happy to know the station holding all our livestock is currently being held hostage. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“All right.” Their commander squints. He eyes Yuuta warily. “And you, Aoki,” he says, “don’t cause any more trouble than necessary.”

“Yes, Sir…” Yuuta sighs. His shoulders deflate as he and his squad are all dismissed.

They all exit the chief of command’s quarters and part ways. Each of them head to their own respective bunkers with the intent of changing into their combat gear. Yuuta and Xander march next to each other. Their hands are close to brushing against one another, yet, not quite there.

Footsteps are the only thing to be heard resonating throughout the long clinical hallway.

Yuuta thinks he hears Miranda sneeze and excuse herself for moment, but he isn’t quite sure, for the noise leaves as quickly as it came. He wants to say something to break the mute shield that has settled between them, but no words come to mind and—before he knows it—both him and Xander are already standing before the doorways of their bunkers.

“Hey,” Yuuta blurts without giving it much thought, causing Xander to pause, to turn and look at him from over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what happened to you since you joined this damned unit, but you can bet your fine ass I’m going to find out where the old Xander went.”

“The… old Xander?”

“Yeah. The one who still had his hopes for the future.”

Xander has that smirk again, the one he wears when he knows something Yuuta doesn’t—it drives Yuuta mad. “What?” Yuuta snaps as he stomps over to his side. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Xander presents him with a nonchalant shrug that matches his casual tone. “I was just thinking that maybe if you’d stop staring at my fine ass—as you called it—you’d perhaps be able to focus on the more important things. Like the mission at hand for one.”

Yuuta—who is now a stuttering, flushed mess before him—tries to speak. “Y-You—” You knew, he wants to say as his eyes widen and his hands shake with anger and a slight feeling of betrayal that courses through his veins.

Xander winks; he adds, “Don’t forget it would be lenient of me, as your senior, to omit observing your training habits. Be more careful next time with those eyes of yours, all right, rival?” His laughter bounces off the walls. He waves Yuuta a rather lazy goodbye and disappears into his quarters.

Once Yuuta has regained his bearings, once rage has devoured his initial feeling of shame and left nothing but red in his vision, he slams the door to his own bunker.

As he takes a quick shower and grabs all that he needs, Yuuta hopes this will be the mission that proves his worth in these newly found ranks of his.