I Feel Like I’ve Become a Bothersome Person Getting in the Way Between My Childhood Friends. - Chapter 7.1

“Joining the Air Force”

Talking about the “future” is something no teen can avoid—and it’s a topic that always comes with a bit of stress. Stanley’s declaration was his response to that inevitable conversation started by Xeno.

“The military suits you well. It’s the perfect place to make use of your skills,” Xeno said.
“Why the Air Force? Wouldn’t the Army fit you better?” I asked.
“…It’s easier to get picked as an astronaut that way.”

While I tilted my head at the sudden mention of “astronaut,” Xeno’s eyes lit up with understanding.

“Stan, don’t tell me…”
“Got a problem with that?”

Stanley’s tone was curt, but his ears were red. It seemed Xeno had already figured out what Stanley meant. I, on the other hand, hadn’t, so I looked at him for an explanation. Stanley didn’t seem interested in saying more, so Xeno smiled and stepped in.

“I told you NASA reached out to me, didn’t I? Once I finish my doctorate, I’ll be joining them to work on rocket development.”

I already knew Xeno planned to work for NASA, but I hadn’t realized he’d be joining so soon—or that they had scouted him.

“So what does that have to do with Stanley joining the Air Force?” I asked.

“Do you know the basic qualifications to become a NASA astronaut, Aria?”
“Um… a body strong enough to handle the pressure during rocket launches?”

That was as far as my not-so-scientific brain could go. But Xeno didn’t mock me—he just smiled softly.

“Well, yes. Passing NASA’s physical examination is an absolute requirement. It’s on par with military standards.”

That much made sense. Of course astronauts need to be in top condition. But apparently, that wasn’t the main point.

“There’s one more thing,” Xeno continued. “It’s not mandatory, but highly desirable.”
He paused, then added, “Over a thousand hours of jet flight experience—or experience as a test pilot.”

At that point, even I could connect the dots. Xeno was going to develop rockets, and astronauts were often chosen from among pilots. Which meant—

“Stanley wants to ride the rocket you build.”

“Someday, yeah!” Stanley cut in quickly, talking over my words.

“Why are you embarrassed? It’s amazing to have such a clear goal—and it’s the U.S. military, no less.”

“Enough about me,” Stanley said suddenly. “What about you, Aria?”

It was obvious he just wanted to deflect the attention, but his question reminded me that I’d never really talked about my own plans with them.

“I…”

It was true that this was the time in life to think seriously about the future. But that only applied to people who didn’t know what was coming. I knew the future of this world. I knew that in 2019, everything would turn to stone—that all civilization would vanish. No matter how much money you saved or how successful your life was, it would all turn to nothing. Knowing that, how could anyone take the future seriously?

Thinking about “the future” was pointless.

But—if I wanted Senku and the others to revive me quickly after petrification, I needed to be someone useful. A scientist, a strategist, or someone physically skilled. In other words, I needed a profession, a skill that would make me worth reviving.

And so I chose something essential in the Stone World—something Senku’s group desperately needed but couldn’t find until they reached America.

“I’ll become a doctor,” I said.

Both of them gawked at me, mouths open.

“That’s sudden. You’ve never shown interest in that before.”
“I decided recently.”
“Can we ask why?”

If I were being honest—it was because I wanted to stand beside them. My childhood friends had plans to join NASA and the U.S. Air Force’s special forces. How could I settle for an ordinary job? If I didn’t aim for something equally impressive, they’d leave me behind. I wasn’t ready to be left behind by either of them.

And truthfully, I didn’t really plan to become a doctor. In America, getting a medical license takes forever. First, you need to complete a four-year undergraduate degree. Unlike in Japan, you can’t go straight into medical school after high school. Then comes medical school itself—another four years—and after that, at least three years of residency.

Even if everything went perfectly, by age twenty-five I’d only be a third-year med student. Which meant I wouldn’t even be a doctor by the time petrification hit. And honestly, I knew I didn’t have the brains or discipline for it.

All I wanted was the title—to be “a medical student.”

“Since you two are always causing explosions during experiments, I thought… if either of you ever got hurt, I’d want to be the one who could help.”

I couldn’t tell them the real reason, so I offered something that sounded noble enough. Apparently, it worked—both of them looked at me with ridiculously gentle eyes, which made me feel a little guilty.

“Yeah, I’ll support you,” Xeno said.
“If I get hurt in the military, I’m coming to you,” Stanley added.
“Please go see a real army doctor, okay?” I said, laughing.

Of course, it wasn’t just about appearances. With the title of “medical student,” I’d thought of a possible path to revival after petrification.

For example, I could get to know Senku through Xeno, then travel to Japan to meet him in person, making sure he knew I was there. That way, after the world turned to stone, Senku might remember “there was that medical student girl in Japan,” and revive me.

Sure, Xeno and Stanley would probably look for my statue too—but searching the whole of America would be impossible. In contrast, Japan was small and easy to navigate.

“So that means we’ll all be busy in our own ways,” Xeno said.
“We won’t see each other much,” I added.
“What are you talking about? We’ll make time,” Stanley said firmly.
“You’re the least flexible of us, Stan,” Xeno teased.
“I don’t care. I’ll come see you two whenever I get leave.”
“Wow, that’s basically family-level devotion.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to put our photo inside a rocket or something,” I said.

Stanley shrugged. “Xeno told me not to.”
“Of course I did,” Xeno said dryly. “If you include a picture with both of us, people will get the wrong idea about which way you swing.”
“That’s true,” I said, laughing. “Better not.”
“So it’s fine if it’s just Aria, then?” Stanley asked.
“No, it’s not! Don’t even think about it!”

—So that’s why he wanted to take a picture the other day.