[Blue Trinity] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Bonus Chapter

*This is a side story

When I close my eyes, old memories resurface.

It was war. Now, I don’t quite know what people call it. I was part of that war.

“—Private Scott! Time’s up, get ready!”

The 21st Battalion had a lot of people. Some I knew.

I didn’t care much whether they all made it back home. Or rather, it’s more accurate to say I couldn’t afford to care. Not to mention the soldiers I was close with, it’s been years since I had any way of knowing how the country was doing.

Now, I don’t even hold such expectations. Trying only gives me a headache.

“Listen up, everyone! When the bombardment stops, I’ll blow the whistle! Command expects us to plant our flag in the neutralized German trenches! But always stay cautious—the enemy is everywhere!”

It was rare for a bagpiper to be sent to the front lines.

To be honest, I was scared.

I always carried the thought that the letter I sent to my family might be my last. I don’t know how many bodies I’ve seen by now. The memories of Christmas have crumbled, worth less than spent shell casings.

I knew well that a single bullet, the size of a small bolt or nut, could take a life.

Beyond the soldiers, beyond the trenches, the news that came through told of the flames of life I knew being snuffed out. Sometimes, I had to be the one to deliver that news. I dreaded looking into the eyes of their families.

“Scott, you’re up front. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Even the staff officers at command think the Germans have retreated. So don’t overthink it—just play. That alone will give the soldiers a huge boost.”

I would’ve climbed onto the firing step, tucking the leather bag under my arm.

When the captain blew his whistle, I would’ve rushed out of the trench with my comrades, filling the bag with air, playing with all my might to inspire the weary soldiers on the battlefield.

—Piiiiiiip!

“Waaaa—!”

That’s exactly what I did. I climbed the trench, entered the hellish no-man’s-land, and struggled to advance even a single mile. To break through the relentless barrage of shells. To make the slightest difference in the staff officers’ plans.

“Charge! Char—!”

Private William Peter Scott, 21st Rifle Battalion, Northumberland, Scotland.

I was breathing on July 1st by the Somme River.

***

Inori Kadenokoji, Third-Year Student at Trinity General Academy

In my room, I am very much alive.

…Why?

It’s a question I’ve repeated over the past few months. Like countless soldiers who didn’t survive under the heavens, I reached the German front that day and lost my life. Surely, God should’ve called Peter to guide me to heaven.

But I came to live as a young girl, with all my memories intact. I still don’t know what this means. Perhaps I never will. The reason I live here is simply because I’m alive.

Because I no longer have to endure years in rat-infested trenches that turn to muddy slush hours after being dug. Because I’m not disturbed by the sounds of bombardment and explosions while catching fleeting naps on the firing step. Because even if I’m struck by a stray bullet while playing the bagpipes in the streets, I won’t lose my life.

Shall I think about the bagpipes?

To be precise, the Great Highland Bagpipe.

When I came to my senses, there it was, tucked away in the corner of the room—a symbol of Scotland. This girl must’ve always been interested in bagpipes. Given that I haven’t found another student who plays them, she might be the only one.

It may not have been her wish, but I recently found a use for the bagpipes.

A junior asked me to teach her.

She’s my superior and the club president. But to me, she’s a senior, a mentor, and she respectfully learns how to play the bagpipes. She’s someone with a clear sense of duty. I enjoy teaching her.

Of course, I don’t only use the bagpipes during our private lessons.

Our club often engages in combat, and my apprentice asked me to play the bagpipes when she and the team charge. In a way, it feels like returning to my old job.

I don’t know why, but I readily agreed at the time.

To me, this girl’s bagpipes are like the only link to the war, to the society I belonged to. Inspiring the students might be part of that. It’s really no different from charging out of a trench.

…The bagpipes mean a lot to the current Inori Kadenokoji.

When I play them, it feels like I’m still William.

Even now, I’m looking forward to playing the bagpipes at my apprentice’s request. Across the way, my apprentice, leading the charge against students who hate us, reminds me of the captain who blew the whistle on that first day of July.

The club members are afraid, but my apprentice pats their backs, soothes them, and tries to restore their confidence. Perhaps her request for me to play the bagpipes was her own clever idea.

I don’t mind her words. They come from an apprentice who diligently listens to my lessons.

And so, today as well,

I listen for my apprentice’s whistle and fill the leather bag with air.

—Piiiiiiip!

“Waaaa—!”

*TL:DR – This is a side story about a Private William Alexander Scott, who died on the first day of the Battle of Somme. And then reincarnated.