Gaius woke up from the first bugle calls of the day, which sounded at 5 a.m. to wake everyone up. For the military, the day usually begun at 6a.m., and as a trainee under Instructor Aziz, he was no exception. Although he’d worn the same matte gray shirt as the others yesterday, the Instructor had gotten men to place small uniforms in their lodging areas, neatly folded and packaged with their name.

Gaius grabbed his package. He wasn’t sure how the military had measured their sizes accurately, but again, people could fly here. It probably didn’t take too much for them to measure children accurately. Even the five sets of underwear were correct, which would have been creepy back on Earth.

But this world clearly didn’t just operate on the basis of science, so anything odd could be chalked down to magic. It was a convenient set of mental gymnastics he could use if he didn't want to overanalyse anything in here.

It didn’t take long for him to be done. For one, the uniforms were easy to put on, and secondly, there was a small instruction sheet that came with it, illustrated with arrows and a model. He pulled at the laces tightly and stood up. As he left the tent, the other children were beginning to stir — there was at least forty minutes before they were supposed to assemble. Gaius, however, wanted to visit Nakama.

Some of the sentries chuckled as he greeted them, clearly amused by the sight of a little soldier boy. Judging from their reaction, Gaius could tell that the turmoil he’d set off yesterday had died down. Nodding his head with a childlike smile on his face, and eliciting more smiles in return, Gaius made his way to the small tent he had been using two days ago.

The children-only tent had eight beds, but only two was occupied. Nakama was sleeping on the bed furthest from the entrance, but she woke up as Gaius pushed open the flap.

“Gai—”

He clapped his mouth over as she ran over. “Shh. Others are sleeping.”

Nakama’s little head bobbed up and down, her wide eyes glittering with joy. Gaius rubbed her head, and then pulled her out. Once out of the tent, Nakama tugged at his uniform, rubbing her cheek on it.

Gaius looked at her, and briefly wondered if there was a cat’s soul inside of her. “I’m back.”

“Yay!”

“I need to leave in around ten minutes or so, though.” Gaius repressed his urge to laugh, as the little girl made some odd noise that probably indicated dissent. Gaius had to ask about her day, and then entertain her for a couple of minutes before she became happy again.

A thought appeared in his mind when he caught sight of some patrolling soldiers.

“Nakama,” he said, “what did you do last night, during the disturbance?”

“Disturbance?” She blinked. “What disturbance?”

Gaius narrowed his eyes. “What time did you sleep last night?”

“I was bored, so I went to sleep in the evening.” She pouted. “I’m still bored. The people in my dreams speak things I don’t understand at all.”

“Well, that’s what dreams are,” said Gaius. “They’re not meant to be understood most of the time.”

“But I’m still bored! Can I come with you? Your clothes look better than mine too.”

Gaius sighed.

“Go to one of the classes the camp has,” he said. “You can make new friends there, and learn new things. Better than just staying in the tent and doing nothing.

Seeing that she was still unconvinced, Gaius used his trump card. “I’ll be able to concentrate if you were in the care of the soldiers here. It’ll be bad for me if I had to worry about you the whole time.”

“Okay then, I’ll find a class to join tomorrow.”

“Now that’s a good girl.”

Nakama smiled brightly at that praise, and rubbed her cheeks into his uniform again. Gaius hummed lightly, and her body swayed, as though as Gaius’ voice was a lullaby. It probably was, for her. Gaius could imagine the owner of this body rocking her to sleep, hugging her when the city descended into chaos. There was probably something else between the two that he didn’t know about, but that was a moot point now.

The original Gaius had died.

The him right now, a nameless amnesiac soul from another world, had taken over him. If the little girl knew the truth, she would have been devastated. The original didn’t want that. He could feel it — an obvious truth; a plea to keep the lie. It was the original’s dying obsession.

And it was his now.

To protect her as he recovered his own memories. To create a small world using his own strength, a world where she would never cry. Gaius shook his head, and continued to hum. As the first rays of light appeared on the horizon, the humming boy looked up. He had lost himself in the humming.

The little Nakama had dozed off after Gaius hummed for a while, and his heart hurt slightly at the implications. Perhaps, during the disturbance, she was unable to sleep, kept awake by the bustling soldiers and longing for his presence. He could picture the whole thing in his head, a small figure curled up on the bed, trembling every time a patrol marched past.

He sighed again, a lot more heavier this time.

With a slight burst of strength, he picked the girl who was sleeping on her feet up, and carried her over to her bed. Gaius placed her on the bed gently, and ruffled her hair. “I’ll be back.”

He turned and left the tent, nodding politely at the sentries on the way. The bugle for 6 a.m. hadn’t sounded yet, so he wasn’t late. But he would be, if he started dawdling. Gaius broke into a light jog, and made his way towards the assembly space the class had used yesterday.

Within his heart was an ominous premonition. These days of relative peace were not going to last forever, he knew it. The fact that the camp was guarding against enemies, despite being a camp that took in the demographic that were most likely to have infiltrators, were hinting at purposes he was unable to discern for now.

For his sake, and for Nakama’s sake, all he could do was to get stronger. Otherwise, if chaos did break out, they would be swallowed by the tide. There were a dozen things he had to do, of which the first step was something that went entirely against his character. But he would have to grin and bear it.

Time, Gaius felt, was not a commodity in excess for him.