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ArabicArknights: It Can't Possibly Be My Fault... Right? — Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Christmas Eve
In the end, Amiya simply couldn’t hold out against the combined stubbornness of Kai and M3. After reluctantly allowing them to escort her back and deliver the remaining documents, the young Cautus finally surrendered to her exhaustion and went to sleep.
Back in Kai’s dorm room, the sudden quiet felt almost deafening. M3 had already hauled away the soundly sleeping Rosmontis, leaving him entirely alone in the dimly lit space.
“Tsk… why do I suddenly feel so empty?” Kai muttered, sprawling out on his mattress.
Not far away, the crumpled snack wrappers left behind by M3 and Rosmontis sat on the table, completely ignored. The sketches he had sworn he would finish ‘later’ remained untouched, gathering a fine layer of dust. The sheer adrenaline of the past few days had easily rivaled the collective excitement of his entire three-year tenure on the landship. He had to admit, he was thrilled. Who wouldn’t be? Stepping directly into the chaotic, familiar beats of a story he once only knew through a screen was an intoxicating rush.
But the withdrawal that followed was just as potent. After riding such a massive high, the sudden crash into leisure left him feeling inexplicably hollow. Lonely, even.
What was the clinical term for this again? Post-adrenaline dysphoria? Kai let the random thoughts drift through his mind as the silence of the room pressed in on him.
Feeling an ache in his neck from the awkward angle, he rolled over, shifting his gaze from the sterile ceiling panels to the wall at the foot of his bed.
It was his personal memorial board, a chaotic patchwork of trinkets he had collected over the years. There was the brightly colored candy wrapper Ceobe had given him, the delicate bunny pendant from Amiya, and Rosmontis’s very first crayon drawing. Pinned neatly beside them was his official Rhodes Island employment certificate, a small woven vine talisman, and right in the dead center—a massive group photo of the Rhodes Island crew, flanked by a candid shot of Kai smiling brightly beneath a sky full of fireworks.
Kai sat up, his eyes lingering on the group photo. If his memory served him right, that had been taken during the Yanese New Year.
At the time, the landship’s route had briefly intersected with Lungmen’s borders. The proximity was so close that even the operators sweating it out in the deep-deck training rooms could hear the muffled, rhythmic popping of Lungmen’s firecrackers echoing across the barren wastelands.
No one really remembered who first pitched the idea of throwing their own New Year celebration, but to everyone’s absolute shock, Kal’tsit had actually approved the island-wide leave with a single, decisive stroke of her pen. Delighted by the unexpected holiday, the operators had either retreated to their dorms for some much-needed rest or flocked to the upper decks to join the impromptu festival.
Kai remembered that day with crystal clarity.
For some unfathomable reason, the various culinary divisions of the cafeteria had sparked a fierce rivalry, churning out such an ungodly amount of dumplings that the entire Rhodes Island staff was forced to eat them for five straight days.
The Elite Operators, true to form, had organized their usual brand of bizarre, high-stakes physical competitions. Back then, Kai had still been a bit reserved, still finding his footing in this harsh world, but at Hoshiguma’s boisterous invitation, he had stepped into the ring. He was unceremoniously eliminated in the very first round, but he had laughed harder than he had in years.
That was the exact moment he had truly felt the warmth of Rhodes Island. The genuine, beating heart of this world.
Later that night, some of the younger operators had smuggled fireworks onto the observation deck. When their meager supply inevitably ran dry, they had shamelessly swarmed little Rosmontis, begging her to cast some dazzling, light-based Arts into the sky as a substitute.
Kai remembered leaning against the cold metal railing, watching Logos look entirely flustered as he was surrounded by a mob of cheering children. He watched the familiar yet unfamiliar faces of the operators laughing, drinking, and sharing stories around him. He had looked at this deeply human side of Rhodes Island, and without even realizing it, a genuine, relaxed smile had spread across his face.
Someone had snapped a photo of him in that exact moment. He still didn’t know who took it, but he had found the picture slipped under his door the next morning, spending a good hour puzzling over his secret photographer.
After the chaotic New Year festivities finally wound down, Ace had bellowed across the deck, rallying all the wild, exhausted operators together for a massive group photo. They had even managed to drag Kal’tsit out of her office, prying her away from her endless paperwork and bitter coffee.
Though the feline doctor had looked predictably reluctant, Kai could tell from the microscopic, one-pixel upturn at the corner of her mouth that she was actually enjoying herself.
Kai smiled at the memory, reaching out to unpin the large group photo from the wall. He held it under the soft glow of his desk lamp, examining the faces. There was Ace, standing like a mountain in the dead center with his hands on his hips. There was the socially anxious Manticore, half-blended into the shadows of the background. Scout had his arm slung casually over Hoshiguma’s broad shoulder, while Rosmontis nervously clutched the hem of her own jacket. Over on the edge, Closure was waving frantically at the camera lens.
He lay back down, holding the photo up above his face. As the overhead light hit the glossy paper, he suddenly noticed a faint indentation pressing through from the other side.
Curious, he flipped it over.
There, scrawled on the blank white backing, was a crude, simplistic doodle. It was a stick figure with two strange, pointy ears, a pair of dot-like green eyes, and a little “V” peace sign drawn floating next to its head. Beneath it, written in tiny, jagged handwriting, was a single line:
Consider me there too. From M3.
Kai let out a low chuckle. “Really now.”
He stared at the doodle for a moment, then pushed himself off the bed. Grabbing a pencil from his desk, he carefully sketched out his own chibi-style head right next to M3’s little stick figure, making sure to give himself a ridiculously confident smirk.
“Much better. As expected of my artistic genius,” Kai muttered, admiring his handiwork. After a few more seconds of self-praise, he pinned the photo back into its rightful place on the wall.
He collapsed back onto the mattress. This time, the heavy, existential thoughts of being a transmigrator didn’t bother him. Right now, he was just an ordinary operator on Rhodes Island. Sure, he had some meta-knowledge and a bit of anomalous strength, but beneath all that, he was just a guy trying to survive alongside his friends.
He vaguely recalled a ‘transmigrator’s survival guide’ he had read in a web novel in his past life. The very first rule was always: Let go of your arrogance.
Pretty solid advice, all things considered.
As the adrenaline finally bled out of his system, a heavy wave of drowsiness washed over him. Kai let out a massive yawn, his eyelids fluttering shut. It was definitely time to sleep. He lazily stretched his foot out, blindly kicking around the end of the bed to pull up his blanket.
He kicked empty air.
Wait. Where the hell was his blanket?
After successfully depositing the rolled-up, burrito-like Rosmontis into her room, M3 made her way back to the new dorm Kal’tsit had assigned to her.
The room was strategically located—close to Kal’tsit’s personal quarters, and more, extremely close to the cafeteria. That second detail was the absolute selling point for her. However, since she had just moved in, the pristine, untouched room felt a little too sterile and empty.
M3 kicked off her shoes and casually tossed her jacket onto the floor. A second later, she paused, remembering a recent lecture. She quickly scooped the jacket back up, draped it properly over the coat rack, and nudged her shoes into a neat pair by the door.
She glanced up at the cookie-shaped clock ticking on the wall. Hmm… what was the next step in the nightly routine? Oh, right. Brushing her teeth.
Shuffling into the bathroom in a pair of fluffy rabbit slippers, M3 squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She noticed faint dark circles forming under her green eyes. A fragment of medical knowledge, directly inherited from Kal’tsit’s mental link, surfaced in her mind: Should I heat up some warm milk to promote healthy REM sleep?
She spat into the sink. Never mind. Too much effort.
She didn’t entirely understand the concept of a complex skincare routine yet, but she was fairly confident she was naturally flawless anyway.
Placing her toothbrush back into a cup printed with a chibi Kal’tsit face, M3 stretched her arms high above her head, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. She rubbed her tired eyes, padded over to the bed, and immediately burrowed into her freshly acquired, incredibly soft blanket.
Lying flat on her back, she stared blankly at the ceiling. A second later, her terminal buzzed sharply against the nightstand.
M3 pulled it out from under the pillow. It was a message from Kai.
[Why did you steal my blanket?!]
Oh. So that’s why her bed felt so comfortably heavy. Haha.
M3 casually typed out a brief, highly dismissive reply shifting the blame entirely onto him, hit send, and stared blankly at the chat interface, waiting to see if he would explode.
When no immediate angry typing bubble appeared, her attention drifted. Tapping the screen a few times, she handled out of the chat and opened her photo album.
There were only a few dozen pictures saved on her device—mostly mission logs, blurry combat footage, and a few group shots with the other operators. M3 scrolled past all of them, tapping into a locked, hidden folder at the very bottom.
This folder was practically empty. It held exactly two photos.
One was the picture Hoshiguma had taken of her. The other was a slightly grainy, second-hand photo of Kai—a picture she had taken by literally pointing her terminal’s camera at the physical photo pinned to his wall.
Her green eyes wandered slowly between the two images. With her free hand, M3 fumbled blindly under the stolen blanket until her fingers brushed against the familiar, worn fabric of Kal’tsit’s old jacket. She pulled it close, hugging it tightly against her chest. She wasn’t entirely sure when she had developed this specific coping mechanism, but the faint, sterile scent of the jacket made her sleep far more peacefully. She had demanded Kal’tsit give her one just for this purpose.
Staring at the glowing screen, a thought crossed her mind. Maybe she should build a memorial wall in her room, just like Kai’s?
But what would she even hang on it? What kind of things were actually worth commemorating? M3 frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. The concept felt a bit too abstract and complicated for her current emotional bandwidth.
She waited another five minutes, but no new angry messages popped up from Kai. He had probably just given up, shivered, and fallen asleep.
M3 shook her head, locking her terminal and tossing it onto the nightstand. Whatever. She would just ask Kal’tsit about the memorial wall tomorrow. Kal’tsit knew everything, anyway.
Since the room was quiet and the blanket was warm, it was finally time to sleep.
Good night.