Tactical Embarrassment

The night air felt unnaturally still as I stepped outside our stone sanctuary, the door closing behind me with a soft thud that seemed too final for comfort. I'd just spent twenty minutes coaxing Miyako into bed, her exhausted form finally succumbing to sleep after two days of what I now understood had been sleepless vigil. The fury that had initially greeted my return had melted into something more vulnerable—her hands clutching at my shirt as if I might vanish again, her voice cracking as she described the search parties, the nightmares, the growing certainty that I'd joined our dead classmates.

I'd stayed until her breathing evened out, then extricated myself with the gentlest movements possible. She needed rest more than reassurance now.

Before heading outside, I'd checked on Miyuki. She still hadn't regained consciousness since collapsing at the sight of me hours earlier. Mochi sat beside her sister's bed, her normally bright eyes dulled with worry as she dabbed a cool cloth against Miyuki's forehead.

"Any change?" I'd asked from the doorway, hesitant to enter what felt like sacred space.

Mochi had shaken her head, her silver hair catching the lamplight. "Her Mnemonic abilities sometimes... they sometimes overwhelm her. Especially when she's been suppressing her own emotions to help others process theirs." Her gaze had lifted to mine, carrying a weight I couldn't quite decipher. "She'll wake when she's ready."

I hadn't known what to say. What could I say? 'Sorry my disappearance broke your sister's brain'? 'Sorry the divine aspects kidnapped me for a cosmic paintball match while you all thought I was dead'? Every potential response felt hollow, inadequate.

So, I'd just nodded and quietly retreated, like the coward I apparently was.

Now, I sank into one of the stone chairs I'd created outside our sanctuary, staring up at Voluptaria's alien constellations. The three moons hung like judging eyes in the night sky, their combined light casting everything in that peculiar silvery-blue glow that never quite let you forget you were somewhere else. Somewhere Not Earth.

The stone chair was perfectly shaped to my body—one of the small mercies of having Transform as an ability. At least I could make comfortable furniture while everything else fell apart around me.

"Am I too much of a burden now?" I whispered to the indifferent stars.

The thought had been circling like a vulture since I'd first seen Miyako's tear-streaked face, gaining weight and momentum with each revelation of what my absence had cost. Miyuki collapsing. Mochi's quiet devastation. The dark circles under everyone's eyes. The frantic search parties. The sleepless nights.

All because I'd disappeared without warning.

All because I'd become important to them.

A bitter laugh escaped me, startling a nearby night bird into flight. "Would it be easier for them if I was just dead?" The question tasted like ash on my tongue, but I couldn't stop the thought from forming. At least with death comes closure. Certainty. The ability to mourn and move on.

Disappearance offered none of that—just an endless, hope-destroying limbo.

Miyuki's face flashed before me—the way her carefully constructed composure had crumbled at the sight of me, how she'd staggered forward with those broken words: "You weren't just a memory. You were a constant. And I didn't realise how much that mattered until I thought I'd lost you too."

Had that been... a confession? Before she'd collapsed into unconsciousness? Another layer of complexity I wasn't equipped to handle.

"Today was too bloody heavy," I told the middle moon, the smallest of the three. "I have no idea what to do anymore."

The weight of expectation pressed down on me like a physical force. For years, I'd cultivated the perfect emotional distance—the carefully constructed walls that kept others at arm's length while still allowing just enough connection to prevent complete isolation. I was the loner, the observer, the guy who helped when needed but never actually joined. Never actually belonged.

That identity had shattered the moment I saw what my disappearance had done to them.

"Thought I've been doing a good job being the cool outsider all these years," I muttered, tugging at my hair, "only for reality to slap me on my fucking face." The slight pain from pulling my hair offered a tiny distraction from the emotional turmoil. "Andie the loner has become Andie the pillar. What absolute bullshit."

But was I truly a pillar, or simply a convenient focal point? "Is it just because I'm the only guy?" I wondered aloud. In a sanctuary full of female classmates, perhaps any male presence would take on outsized importance. Maybe it wasn't about me at all, but what I represented—safety, or some kind of psychological anchor in a world gone mad.

"Will things go back to normal when we find the jocks and nerds?" The question felt hollow even as I asked it. What was "normal" anymore? Normal ended the moment magic circles appeared in our classroom.

My thoughts turned darkly toward the Twelve Aspects, particularly Seven and Twelve who had seemed so unconcerned about the time discrepancy when returning me. Anger flared, hot and unexpected.

"You promised no time would pass," I growled at the sky, as if they might be watching. "You said I'd return to the same moment. Was that just another cosmic joke? Another way to test your little plaything?"

The memory of their casual attitude toward my abduction—treating it like some divine field trip—made bile rise in my throat. They'd taken me for their amusement, forced me to craft weapons for their games, all while my friends teetered on the edge of breakdown.

And for what? A box of metal parts and a lump of specialised alloy for engagement rings I'd never use?

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The unfairness of it all burned like acid. I wasn't some chosen champion embarking on a heroic quest—I was just a kid trying to keep his classmates alive in a world that seemed designed to break us. And even that modest goal was apparently too much to ask.

"Some divine intervention," I scoffed, kicking at a stone by my feet. "Next time, try actually helping instead of playing cosmic games with our lives."

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my bitter reverie. I glanced up to see Hina, Airi, and Hitomi approaching from the sanctuary entrance, each carrying mugs that steamed in the cool night air.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Hina asked, her usual clipboard nowhere in sight. She looked smaller somehow, more vulnerable without her organisational prop.

I shrugged, gesturing vaguely at the empty chairs I'd created around the small fire pit. "They're not worth that much."

The three exchanged glances before settling into the offered seats. Without asking, Hitomi used one of the burning sticks to light the kindling I'd prepared earlier but hadn't bothered to ignite. The flames came to life, casting flickering shadows across our faces. The fire wasn't necessary for warmth in the mild night air, but somehow its presence made the heavy conversation ahead feel more manageable.

For a moment, we all just stared at the small fire. The flames cast dancing shadows across our faces, highlighting the exhaustion etched into every line.

Airi broke the silence first, her words cutting through the night with surgical precision.

"Andie, no matter how much we like you or have a crush on you, we have to say you fucked up real bad."

I flinched at her bluntness, though I couldn't argue with the assessment. "I know. I—"

"You don't know," she interrupted, leaning forward. The firelight caught in her eyes, turning them almost gold with intensity. "You weren't here. You didn't see what happened after you disappeared."

Hitomi placed a gentle hand on Airi's arm before addressing me. "The last forty-eight hours have been... difficult, Andie. More than difficult." Her normally confident voice wavered slightly. "Miyako completely broke down. We found her at the workshop clearing, just... screaming your name. Over and over. It took three of us to get her back to the sanctuary."

"She wouldn't eat," Hina added quietly. "Wouldn't sleep. Just kept organising search parties, creating maps, assigning sectors. When she wasn't doing that, she'd just sit by the entrance, waiting. Like she could will you back into existence."

Airi's lips thinned. "And Miyuki—she was holding everyone together. Using her Mnemonic abilities to help us process what was happening, to keep our emotions manageable. All while suppressing her own feelings."

"Until she couldn't anymore," Hitomi finished. "That's why she collapsed when she saw you. All that pent-up emotion just... overwhelmed her system."

The weight of their words pressed down on me like a physical force. I'd known my disappearance had affected them, but the full extent was only now becoming clear.

"Is it just because I'm the only guy?" I asked, voicing the insecurity that had been gnawing at me. "Would any male presence cause this reaction, or is it..." I couldn't even finish the thought.

Hina's response was immediate and surprisingly fierce. "No, Andie. It's because you're you."

"What does that even mean?" I asked, genuine confusion mixing with frustration.

Hitomi let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. "The quiet, mysterious loner who keeps to himself but is secretly kind? Who helps people without expecting recognition? Who somehow manages top grades while pretending not to try? Who has that whole brooding, untouchable thing going on?"

I stared at her, hearing Miyako's words from the bathing chamber echoed almost verbatim. Had they rehearsed this?

"In case you don't know," Airi added, her voice softening just slightly, "most of the girls have a crush on you."

The statement hit like a physical blow. I remembered Miyako saying something similar during our time in the bath, but I'd assumed she was exaggerating. My mind raced back through the years, reassessing countless interactions I'd dismissed or misinterpreted. The volleyball team's persistent invitations, Hina's careful inclusion of me in class activities, Ayumi's questions about homework she clearly understood...

An uncomfortable warmth spread across my face, and I was grateful for the firelight that might hide my embarrassment.

"That's... that's not possible," I stammered.

"And yet," Hitomi said with a raised eyebrow.

Hina leaned forward, her expression serious. "Andie, you have to start being responsible now. Not just for yourself, but for all of us. For this community we've built."

The pressure of her words made something in me rebel. "Not until we find the killer," I said, the words coming out more forcefully than I'd intended. "And I know it's not the Aspects. Something else is hunting us, something that killed Akira and the others."

"We can discuss that tomorrow," Hitomi suggested gently. "You should rest. We all should."

"I can't," I said, rising from my chair. "I need to start working on the gel blaster barrels. The Aspects gave me metal that will actually work. I can make weapons for everyone, provide some protection—"

"You don't just live for yourself, BAKA!" Airi exploded, jumping to her feet. Her outburst was so sudden that we all froze. "If you get teleported again, Miyako, Miyuki, Mochi—none of us can do this again! Do you understand? NONE OF US!"

She stepped closer, her finger jabbing at my chest. "As a man, you have to be responsible for us now, whether you like it or not!"

Her raw honesty stunned me into silence. The gender dynamics of our situation had been an undercurrent I'd tried to ignore, but Airi had just dragged them directly into the light.

"I want to slap you real hard when you returned," she continued, voice rising with each word. "You have no idea how Miyako was tanking this heartbreak of you disappearing. And now with Miyuki, I want to punch you at least twice!"

"Airi, please," Hina intervened, trying to calm her. "This isn't helping."

"Let her finish," I said quietly.

"What? Am I wrong?" Airi demanded, turning to the others. "What the fuck is this? What the fuck is wrong with you?" This last question was directed at me, her eyes blazing.

I met her gaze steadily. "If it helps... then keep going."

Something in my tone must have reached her, because her fury seemed to ebb slightly, replaced by a sadness that was somehow worse.

"I've said my piece," she finally replied, her voice hoarse. "What you do next is up to you."

With that, she turned and stalked back towards the sanctuary, her rigid posture radiating anger with every step.

Hina and Hitomi exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"I'm sorry about that," Hina offered weakly. "She doesn't mean it. Not entirely. She was just so worried..."

"We all were," Hitomi added. "Give her time." She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're back. We all are."

And then they were gone, leaving me alone with the dying fire and a head full of echoing accusations.

The night settled around me like a heavy blanket as I sat motionless, trying to process everything. Airi's fury. Hina's gentle but firm pressure. Hitomi's matter-of-fact assessment of my appeal. Miyako's breakdown. Miyuki's collapse.

The responsibility I'd never asked for but apparently couldn't escape.

Almost absently, I reached into my inventory and withdrew the lump of silver-celestium-umbranium that Seven had given me. The metal seemed to absorb the firelight rather than reflect it, creating a strange visual effect where it both shimmered and swallowed light simultaneously.

Fifty-one engagement rings, Seven had said. Fifty for "the ladies," one for myself.

I turned the metal over in my hands, feeling its impossible weight—both literal and metaphorical. A reminder of divine meddling. A physical manifestation of connections I wasn't ready to face.

I stared at it without really seeing it, my thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, confusion, and the growing, uncomfortable weight of other people's expectations.

"Some isekai protagonist I turned out to be," I muttered to the indifferent night. "Can't even get the bloody loner trope right."