Can I Touch You, Sam

Firefly had soaked in the water for a little too long. When she came out, her arms and legs were weak, and she could barely move at all. After Star helped her to bed, she could only lie there and recover her strength.

That heartless Star simply turned around and went back to her own room to sleep.

She didn't really like sleeping with other people.

Sleeping alone was still the most comfortable. She didn't have to worry about fighting over the blanket, and she could scroll on her phone at night without worrying about disturbing anyone.

The next day.

Star got up early. When the Stellaron Hunters gathered around to eat, Firefly was the only one missing.

"Huh, where's Firefly?"

Looking at the buttered toast on her plate, Star felt as though even breakfast had no flavor without Firefly in sight.

Blade wasn't eating. He sat on a sofa some distance away, his eyes closed in thought.

Even at the dining table, Silver Wolf couldn't stop playing games. She controlled her character with one hand while stuffing toast into her mouth with the other.

Only Kafka answered the question properly.

"Mm... Firefly went out early this morning. She said she had a mission coming up, so she was going to tune Sam's condition today."

"Ah, I see."

Star wolfed down her toast in a few bites, picturing what Sam looked like in her mind.

She seemed never to have gotten a proper look at Sam. Long ago, she had seen Firefly transform into Sam, but she had only caught a distant glimpse.

After what happened yesterday, her relationship with Firefly had definitely advanced by leaps and bounds. In that case, there shouldn't be any problem with getting a close-up look at Sam.

Come on, what normal person wouldn't be interested in an insanely cool humanoid armor like Sam?

Just as she was thinking that, the door behind Star creaked open.

Kafka leisurely put the last piece of toast into her mouth. Once she had finished eating, she rose elegantly, casually took the coat hanging from the rack, and called to Blade and Silver Wolf.

"Blade, Silver Wolf, Sam is back. It's our turn to take the stage. Let's go."

Before leaving, Kafka patted Star's head, then led the other two out in a file.

One group exited the stage, and the next took their place.

Sam's mission was over, which meant it was time for Kafka to take Blade and Silver Wolf out on a new mission.

Star usually had no chance to take part in Elio's scripts. Watching her companions either return from missions or leave to carry them out made her incredibly envious.

But for now, her desire to participate in the script could wait.

She was absolutely brimming with curiosity about Sam.

A mech that cyberpunk was something anyone would want to examine up close, right?

Ideally—ideally, she could even touch it.

In fact, the Stellaron Hunters had all gotten used to calling Firefly and Sam separately.

Why was that?

At the time, Star didn't really understand. They were clearly the same person, so why did they need two different names just because their forms were different?

Much later, after recovering her memories, she finally learned that this was also part of Elio's script.

Because if, from the very beginning, Star had known that Firefly and Sam were the same person while she was an amnesiac Trailblazer—

Then what would happen to Firefly's role in Penacony? It wouldn't do for it to be spoiled ahead of time!

Sam watched Kafka leave with Blade and Silver Wolf, leaving only herself and Star alone in the room.

For some reason, what had happened last night suddenly surfaced in her mind.

Remembering the scene of soaking in the bathtub with Star, Sam felt as though she was about to enter "Complete Combustion" mode.

She took two deep breaths. Her companions' departing footsteps were cut off by the sound of the door closing. In that instant of quiet, she saw Star abruptly rise to her feet.

Sam instinctively backed up two steps, until her back slammed into the wall with a bang. There was nowhere left to retreat.

"Sam, why do you look so scared? I'm not that frightening, am I?"

As the culprit, Star made no attempt to reflect on what she had done to make Sam have such a stress reaction at the sight of her. She seriously scrutinized Sam from head to toe for quite a while.

At last, she sincerely asked a question.

"This armor has such a great design. You look so cool, Sam. I'm almost in love with it just from looking at it. Can I touch you?"

Huh? In love, with it...

Was Star really going to be so openly straightforward?

Before Sam could make any response, Star had already taken it as consent.

She removed her glove and lightly traced Sam's cheek with her fingertips, then let them wander down along her neck.

Collarbone, shoulder, arm, fingertips.

"So cool. How should I put it? Anyway, it looks really good, and it feels great too. The texture is completely different from what I expected."

Inside the cockpit, Firefly was already trembling all over.

Not only did Star have to touch her body, she even had to listen to the other party praise her.

Was Sam really that handsome? Why was Star touching her over and over with such a fascinated expression?

Firefly bit her lip and waved at Star.

"Um... if possible, I'd like to deactivate Sam now."

She really couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't keep letting Star touch her like this.

This was terrible. How had she never noticed that Star had such a knack for tormenting people?

"Ah, maintaining Sam's form must be exhausting, right? I forgot about that. Sorry."

Star took a step back, her fingertips leaving Sam's body.

A flash of white light passed before her eyes, and Sam's form vanished, replaced by Firefly, whose face had turned bright red.

"Firefly? Why do you look so unwell? Do you have a fever?"

Completely unaware of what she had done—or rather, currently pretending to be a good person—Star hurriedly looped an arm around Firefly's and pressed her palm soothingly against her forehead.

"You are pretty hot. You worked hard on this mission. I'll help you back to your room so you can rest. Have you eaten? Today's breakfast is..."

Star helped the weak-kneed Firefly back to her room, then turned and left, thoughtfully going to bring her breakfast.

Lying on the bed, Firefly stared at the ceiling and felt as though the worldline had converged.

Hadn't she also been teased by Star until she was completely unable to fight back yesterday, left lying on the bed unable to move?

The worst part was that she couldn't say something like that directly to Star. If she did, she would definitely get an answer like, "Huh? That counts as teasing? I haven't even gotten serious yet. Want to try it?"

She was just too sadistic.

So later, when Firefly encountered the amnesiac Star in Penacony—the Trailblazer—

She saw that Star had new companions by her side, heard her occasionally say bizarre things, and watched her occasionally cling to a trash can and refuse to let go.

That was nice. Even though she had lost her memories and forgotten everything, her personality had become much gentler.

Firefly suddenly felt that Star as the Trailblazer had unexpectedly developed many contrasting sides compared to when she had been a Stellaron Hunter.

This was good too.

Although the Trailblazer no longer recognized her, it didn't matter—Firefly thought. As long as Star was doing well, as long as she was safe and happy, what did it matter where she was or whether she remembered Firefly?

"She looks lively."

That was how Firefly assessed her.

She turned around, refusing to watch the Trailblazer smash an advertisement sign flying with her baseball bat, and disappeared into the crowd with light steps.

As though she had never appeared at all, no one noticed her arrival or departure.

—Trailblazer, go forth and carry out the will of Trailblazing to your heart's content. Become a Nameless welcomed by friends across the world, rather than a Stellaron Hunter wanted and hunted across the entire galaxy.

—I remember every bit of the beautiful past we shared. It doesn't matter if you've forgotten.

—Because I will always preserve those memories. As long as I remember it all, it proves that our past truly happened, and was not merely a fleeting dream.