After the whole incident with Emi, Tama and I head to AII’s Augment Engineering Department—a section of the lower industrial wing near the shuttle bay, on the way toward the first-year dorms.

  While we’re there, I finally get a new set of augments, with a spare already scheduled to be delivered to my room later tonight.

  I end up with a pair of Idol Corps casual-wear augments—same pale blue plating and gold accents as my combat set, but lighter and sleeker. The mechanical feet even have soft rubber soles built right into them, designed to look like sneakers. When I take a step, they make a quiet bounce instead of that sharp metallic clack.

  Way better than walking around campus looking like I’m ready for a fight.

  We step out into the narrow streets that snake through this part of campus. It’s way more cramped than the main plaza, all tall buildings stacked close together, but at least it’s bright—neon signs, floodlights, and plenty of patrol drones floating by.

  “Once we get to the dorms,” Tama says, pointing at the access card in my hand, “you’ll need to give that to the front desk so they can issue your bathing augments.”

  But I sigh, not really listening. My mind keeps drifting off.

  “Man, I can’t wait to take a shower,” she goes on, stretching her arms behind her head. “After all that running we did today, I just wanna soak in a nice warm bath and melt.”

  I don’t respond. I just trail behind her, steps slow.

  “And how lucky that they gave you Idol Corps augments? I was worried they’d stick you with AMED gear. Can you imagine walking around in those clunky things?”

  She peeks over her shoulder and finally notices how far back I’ve fallen.

  “You good?” she asks.

  “O-oh! Yeah—I’m fine!” I blurt, standing a little straighter.

  “You’re still thinking about that girl, huh?”

  I let out another sigh and nod. “Yeah… I just can’t stop wondering why she ran off like that. She said she didn’t want to be our friend, and… that just makes me worry more.”

  Tama shrugs, her hand coming down to pat my head. “Nah, don’t stress it! But if you really wanna talk to her again, we’ll probably find her at the dorm’s bathhouse~!”

  I look up, and that same toothy grin of hers breaks through my gloom. It’s impossible not to smile back.

  “Yeah… you’re probably right.” I finally give in. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

  “Yay~!” she cheers, skipping ahead. “Bath time~! Bath time~! Bath time~!”

  I roll my eyes and follow her around the corner—only to smack straight into something solid.

  “Ow!” I yelp.

  An egg-shaped drone hovers in front of me, its front screen flickering with spiral eyes while two floating arms spin beside it.

  “Oops—sorry, buddy!” I say, rubbing my forehead. “Guess I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  The drone wobbles, then flashes a happy face and waves one of its floating arms.

  I grin and wave back. “Glad you’re okay! See ya~!”

  Tama leans sideways to peek at it as we walk off, curious, but doesn’t say anything. She just smiles and keeps following me down the road.

  ?

  We take our time heading toward the dorms—a massive tower made just for first-year Idols, packed with everything we could ever need.

  Each floor has its own common rooms, lounges, even an indoor theater. Downstairs, there’s a cafeteria lined with cafés and restaurants of every kind, and of course… the bathhouse.

  I already picked up my new set of bathing augments earlier, tucked neatly inside a little hover case that follows behind me. Its display screen flashes cute pixel faces as it reacts to the environment, occasionally bumping into Tama’s case—or the camera drone from earlier, which decided to tag along.

  We make our way to the bathhouse, but just before entering the dressing room, I stop and hold my hand out toward the drone.

  It hovers in confusion, screen flashing a big question mark.

  “Sorry,” I tell it gently. “Maybe you should wait outside.”

  The drone tilts to the side, then flashes a sad face before floating away.

  I sigh and step inside.

  Instantly, warm humidity wraps around me like a blanket. The air smells faintly of steam and soap. Rows upon rows of lockers line the walls, pale beige tiles glowing under soft fluorescent lights. The lockers electric locks hum quietly, waiting for activation.

  I link my HoloNode to one of them, and the door clicks open with a smooth chime. My hover case rolls up beside me, projecting a tiny happy face as the lid opens. Inside rests the new augments—arms and legs neatly folded in foam lining.

  They look… normal.

  Not like the bulky, durable combat ones. Not even like the glossy, showy casual models.

  They look like real limbs.

  Mirai Medical. A manufacturer that specializes in realistic augments—designed to feel human, even under touch. Idols use them for bathing because the sensation is supposed to mimic what it’s like to have your real arms and legs again.

  I lift one of the legs carefully, studying the synthetic skin that glimmers faintly under the light. Bringing it close to my own augment, I hear the faint hiss of the release latch. My old leg detaches smoothly, and I slide my connector into the new port.

  A pulse travels up through me the moment it locks.

  My leg… feels wet.

  The air is so humid that moisture beads along the surface, clinging to the skin-like texture. I reach down and brush my fingers along the shin—and my leg actually feels the touch of my mechanical hand. The rubbery texture of my synthetic fingers pressing against the new limb feels real.

  I freeze, staring at my hand on my own leg. It feels no different from touching any other part of me.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  A laugh slips out before I can stop it, my face lighting up.

  I hurry through the rest, swapping out the other leg and then my arms. When I flex my fingers, the sensation almost overwhelms me.

  My hands… they can feel.

  With my usual augments, I can detect heat and pressure, sure—but this is something else entirely. Every tiny movement sends a rush of feedback through me, bright and alive.

  I can’t stop laughing, and Tama just smiles at me—already dressed down and fitted into her own set of bathing augments.

  “This your first time wearing MM augments?” she teases.

  I nod eagerly. “Yeah! These feel so real! I almost forgot what feeling things felt like!”

  “Wow,” she giggles. “I got my first set right after I had my operation.” Her smile dips a little. “Have you not been able to feel anything after all this time? Must’ve been rough.”

  I shake my head, still grinning. “Nah, I got used to it pretty quick. But this…” I flex my fingers, feeling the air brush against them, “this feels nice. For once, my body actually feels like me and not like a machine.”

  Tama lets out a small laugh before turning away to undress.

  I follow her lead, unbuttoning my jacket and unbuckling the strap around my waist. Then I unzip my bodysuit and slip out of it, quickly wrapping a towel around myself. My old augments and clothes go neatly into the locker before I seal it with a tap on my HoloNode.

  Stepping out of the dressing room, I’m hit by a wave of heat. The air beyond the doorway glows with a soft amber haze, filled with the sound of running water and faint laughter.

  The bathhouse is beautiful—tiered pools carved right into the floor like rippling ponds. Dozens of girls drift between them, chatting, giggling, or sinking into the water with blissful sighs. Steam hangs thick in the air, turning everything hazy and golden. Even though most of the girls don’t bother with towels, the mist keeps everything hidden.

  I move deeper inside, scanning through the haze. Everyone’s hair catches the light in some way—bright colors, glowing highlights, even the black-haired girls shimmer faintly under the lamps.

  Which is why the one girl with plain brown hair stands out immediately.

  “Found her,” I whisper, excitement bubbling up. I grab Tama’s arm and tug her along.

  We climb to the top tier of the baths where, in a small corner tub, Emi sits alone—knees tucked against her chest.

  “Heya~!” I call out, waving as I approach.

  Her head snaps up. The instant she sees me, her face turns red. She squeaks and pulls her legs in tighter.

  “Wow, are my teeth really that scary?” Tama jokes, pulling back one cheek to flash her shark-like grin. “These were meant to strike fear into my enemies, not my friends.”

  Emi flinches at that, voice barely a whisper. “Eidolons don’t feel fear.” She hides her face in her knees. “And like I said earlier, I don’t wanna be friends.”

  “Sure they do!” Tama insists, kicking up a little wave as she slides into the water across from her. “Why do you think they run when they’re losing?”

  “It’s called a tactical retreat,” Emi shoots back. “Machines don’t have feelings!”

  Tama doesn’t let up. She keeps talking—half playful, half stubborn—spinning arguments about Eidolons having emotions, while Emi keeps trying to out-reason her. But slowly, the tension starts to ease. Emi’s voice softens. The stiffness in her shoulders fades.

  Before long, they’re talking—really talking—and I can feel Emi’s guard starting to slip.

  I glance down at the two of them still arguing, voices echoing softly through the steam. My feet still dry.

  I lower one leg and dip my synthetic toes into the water.

  It… burns!

  I jerk my foot back with a gasp. Guess these augments don’t just mimic touch—they mimic pain too.

  I take a breath, steady myself, and try again. This time I ease in slow, sliding under until the water swallows me up to my chin. My towel slips off to the side of the tub.

  The heat wraps around me. It’s almost unbearable at first, but the feeling—it’s so real I can’t help but laugh. Every time I think I’ve reached the limit of what these augments can do, they find a new way to surprise me.

  Eventually my body adjusts, the sting fading into warmth. I sink deeper, resting my arms along the edge of the tub.

  Tama and Emi’s voices blur together in the haze.

  “Welp, I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Tama says with a chuckle.

  “No!” Emi snaps, her face flushing red again. “That’s not how debates are supposed to end!”

  Their voices fade to a background hum, my thoughts drifting back to what Emi said earlier on the transport ship.

  Before I realize it, I speak. “Why did you say you didn’t want to be friends with us?”

  The words stop everything.

  Emi freezes. Her knees draw up again, arms wrapping tight around them like a shield. Her gaze drops to the water.

  “It’s not because of you,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I actually think you two are really cool but…”

  She trails off, shutting her eyes as if the next part hurts to say.

  “Yeah?” I ask softly.

  Tears bead at the corners of her eyes and start to fall—tiny ripples breaking her reflection across the surface of the water.

  “I don’t want to be here.”

  I blink. She doesn’t want to be here?

  It takes me a second to catch my breath. “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “I don’t want to be an Idol.” Her voice cracks. “I just want to go home! B-but my mentor made me become one and s-said I needed to make friends!”

  Then she breaks. The words dissolve into sobs.

  Oh… she’s homesick.

  Tama and I glance at each other, unsure, then nod at the same time.

  We slide closer through the water and wrap our arms around her, holding her tight between us.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be your friends,” Tama says gently.

  “Shh~ It’s okay,” I whisper. “You won’t have anything to worry about—we’ll be here for you.”

  But the words don’t seem to reach her. Emi just keeps crying, her shoulders shaking as she pulls away, brushing off our hands.

  All we can do is sit there beside her, steam curling around us, the sound of her quiet sobs blending with the water.

  We give her a while, and eventually, Emi’s sobs fade into quiet sniffles.

  “Thanks for… trying to comfort me,” she mumbles. Then she stands, wrapping herself in a towel. “I think I’m just gonna head to my room.”

  “Okay… sleep well!” I call after her, waving as she disappears into the steam.

  I let out a long breath and sink deeper into the water. My eyes drift shut as I rest my head against the rim of the tub. I still feel bad not being able to help her but for a few seconds, everything is calm—just the hum of the vents and the faint rippling of water.

  Then I hear it—soft beeps and digital chimes above me.

  “Huh?” I open my eyes.

  Hovering just overhead, a camera drone stares straight down at me—its digital face filling my vision.

  “W-woah!” I yelp, arms shooting up to cover myself. “What are you doing here?! I told you to wait outside!”

  The drone bobs in confusion, screen flashing a big question mark.

  “Wait… are you not the same one from earlier?”

  It tilts away from me and drifts toward Tama, who’s lounging at the other end of the pool, arms stretched lazily along the rim.

  “Tama~! Cover yourself!” I hiss.

  She cracks one eye open, spots the drone, and smirks. “Heh. You want a show, little buddy?”

  She turns around, arching her back playfully for the lens.

  “Tama, what are you doing~?” I whisper, half-horrified. “These things are live! Everyone can see you right now!”

  “I don’t mind~,” she purrs, swaying her hips under the water. “The steam’s too thick to actually see anything. And even if someone does manage a peek, the censors’ll handle it.”

  “But you still shouldn’t—” I stop mid-sentence.

  Because it isn’t just one drone.

  All around us, camera units hover between the baths—blinking, chirping, recording. A few drift low to chat with other Idols, responding with little emojis as the girls laugh and splash, completely unfazed.

  My stomach twists. The laughter, the mist, the soft glow of their screens—it all blends together until I can’t tell if this is supposed to be normal or if it’s something deeply wrong.

  “Ugh… this can’t be happening,” I mutter, sliding lower until the water laps against my chin.

  I close my eyes, trying to disappear into the water—

  And then a voice cuts through the room.

  “The life of an Idol is one of constant exposure.”

  The voice echoes through the bathhouse, calm and commanding.

  Every splash and laugh dies away. Heads turn toward the lower tier near the shower heads.

  A girl walks slowly along the tiled edge, her soft fingers gliding over the wall as if tracing every groove. Her MM legs gleam pale under the light, but her arms—those are still mechanical, metal running all the way from the tips of her fingers to the tops of her shoulders, pale blue with silver edges that catch the steam.

  It’s her. Reina.

  “Whether it’s on the battlefield or in moments as intimate as this,” she says, her tone steady and rehearsed, “we are always broadcast. Every second, every movement—someone is watching.”

  She stops and sits on one of the stools, lifting a shower head from its hook. A camera drone swoops in close, lens whirring, focusing on her as the water begins to flow.

  “Because we are more than just soldiers,” she continues, voice even, deliberate. “More than just weapons…”

  She shifts, turning her back toward the drone, glancing over her shoulder with practiced grace. Water rolls down her skin in thin streams—and that’s when I see them.

  Scars. Faint, pale lines crossing her back like lightning strikes.

  “…We are Idols,” Reina finishes, snapping the shower off and flipping her hair back in a single practiced motion. Droplets scatter through the air like glitter under the lights.

  Then she looks straight into the lens, eyes sharp and steady.

  “And we are the hope of humanity.”

  The drones chirp in approval, their lights blinking in rhythm to her words, but no one says a thing.

  I just stare—at her scars, at the cameras, and at the girls smiling and clapping like this is normal.

  Is this what being an Idol really means?