A/N: A new work for a new start to my career on this fandom.
To any of you savvy with the Metal Gear Franchise, the name of the title should resonate with you. In which Hikigaya Hachiman, Loner incarnate, is the legendary soldier known as Big Boss. This is also meant to be in line with the running of the usual Military fics that I personally find to be some of the best on this fandom but not seen through. Comes with its share of Sci-Fi elements, seeing the time setting.
I will run through any past fics I deem are still quality to work on.
Disclaimer: The following piece is purely fiction. Any references to real places or people are with the intent of fiction and not meant to be representative of the real world.
OreGairu is made and owned by Watari Wataru. Metal Gear is made by Hideo Kojima and owned by Konami.
"War has changed. It's no longer about nations, ideologies, or ethnicity. It's an endless series of proxy battles, fought by mercenaries and machines. War-and it's consumption of life-has become a well-oiled machine. War has changed. ID-tagged soldiers carry ID-tagged weapons, use ID-tagged gear. Nanomachines inside their bodies enhance and regulate their abilities. Genetic control, information control, emotion control, battlefield control…everything is monitored and kept under control. War…has changed. The age of deterrence has become the age of control, all in the name of averting catastrophe from weapons of mass destruction, and he who controls the battlefield, controls history. War…has changed. When the battlefield is under total control, war becomes routine."
― Solid Snake
46 Years. Today would be my 46th Birthday, on this day, the 8th of August, 2044. After war broke out in Afghanistan, and the political situation continued to worsen, it was around 2017 when I first considered my involvement in the Military. To fulfill my sense of patriotism that had been growing is what enticed me to bite the bullet and take to joining the JSDF. I didn't know at the time that THIS would become my life. I bet you're wondering what happened to make me the way I am. To make me who I am. The Legendary Soldier. But my backstory has another time to be revealed. I'm sure it will come along finely as this story moves on.
As for birthday wishes, there was nothing. I had heard my father had passed away sometime in 2041 and my mother had taken to calling me only when my sister Komachi had done so, which had also stopped in the years long before then. Perhaps not showing up to your shared father's funeral would do that, but I was running a war on North Korea at the time. A war that stopped all wars against North Korea, ever since the regime was abolished. The family ties were on thin ice anyway, my visits every few years back home at the beginning of this career had turned into monthly phone calls and then transmogrified into rare phone calls to their nonexistence now.
As for how she was doing, she was of course now married. Her childhood bratty side and taking care of me had evolved into eventual and inevitable adulthood and she now had three children, two girls and a boy. From what I remember, she was the epitome of a loving mother. I can only hope I hadn't made her bitter about the rest of her life. Being bitter about me was something I could live with.
I was interrupted from these musings, something that's gonna happen a lot, by a knock at the door of my office. I looked up from the stacks of mission reports.
"Come in." I said in my voice that hadn't changed much from the days of high school. It had gotten more power behind it and coarser at best.
From the door came one of the rookies of the base. Picked him up just last month from the U.S. Army, as were a healthy majority of our men. The kid was still pushing paper at the desk for now with minimal field action. Not that there was much to do for now anyway, apart from running a few missions in Africa. Regardless, the boy had news obviously.
"Boss, we got a requested call coming in 15 minutes, it's the President!" he said in a stiff voice, at an attention position.
I did nothing but pause for a minute and give him a pointed look. He had the audacity to stare back at me confused.
"Ugh…." I sighed to myself, "Which President?" I finally asked him. The kid seemed to have realized his error and had a panic struck moment.
"Oh! Sir, my a-apologies, I mean, the President of the United States!" he stated. Before I had the chance to berate him for his error, someone else seemed to have stepped in to handle it.
"Hey Parks, drop it with that shit. You need to remember the fact that you ain't a U.S. soldier anymore. You're MSF, so remember that." said a tall man as he walked into the room. He had blonde hair and dressed a little eccentric for the type of Paramilitary work done here, opting for a light trench coat over his military garbs. But I suppose those jobs aren't his role anymore. His job is to keep this boat afloat while I'm away.
"You can leave now." I said to him, and with a salute he trotted off, leaving me and this blond in the room.
"Miura." I said to him simply. This was Miura Yasuhiro. Name sounds familiar, doesn't it? Well you'd be right. This is the 49 year-old older brother of one Miura Yumiko, the very same once Fire-Queen of Sobu High.
Of course, now she has come to be known as one Miura-Hayama Yumiko, the First Lady of the Land of the rising Sun, Japan. Which of course means that smug bastard Hayama Hayato has made Prime Minister, just on the end of his first term as part of the 55th General elections.
"What's up Boss?" he said, in his usual casual tone, coming up to take a seat opposite my desk.
"I thought you were in Afghanistan right about now?" I replied, grabbing a cigar from the far left side of the desk, throwing it at him before grabbing one myself and lighting it up.
"What's more to see? It's a war torn land with scattered bases around. Last of any military presence that would be a threat. At this point, it's just cleaning up. You could have taken on that whole land by yourself if you asked me." He replied, grinning, lighting up the cigar.
"Really now? I'm starting to think the legend supersedes me." I replied staring out the one window outlooking the ocean atop the Oil Rig, Mother Base. The Oil Rig, as its name suggested was a literal Oil Rig sitting in the middle of the ocean that acted as our base of operations. Men here poured there lives into making this place a reality.
There was a moment of silence as we regarded each other. Miura was one of the last few who knew about my real roots, besides anyone who had any direct relation to me in my high school days. Everything about the famed 'Legendary Soldier' was just an air of mystery and legend but to the right people.
"You still talking to Yumiko?" I asked him after a while. The grin never wavered.
"You still talking to Komachi?" He responded, his grin growing bigger if possible.
"I'll take that as a no." I said, putting out my favored brand of cigar, before getting up and opening the door to see the higher deck. Men walked over from piece to piece, doing rounds around the base, and the mechanics running their usual tests to make sure everything was combat ready. Below me was a bustling activity of tanks, and various mechs ordered or accumulated over the years of battle this organization faced.
What organization would that be? That'd be the Militaires Sans Frontières, or MSF. Dubbed "Outer Heaven" amongst ourselves. It's French for Military without borders. A private military organization that fights wars with no regard for nation or ideology. This organization is one that fights as needed by whoever needs it. Countries that can't fight wars on their own due to politics or other means, various other clients that need to settle various… differences came through here. Handling the remainder of North Korea for example, was a from a generous fund given by Russia and the United States. But it isn't always so clean. More often than not, we were criminals, terrorists, even. It didn't matter. We fought for ourselves, and the continuation of our lifestyle. The rest of the world could go to their hell. We found our own hell here. Miura had since joined me in overlooking the deck.
"It's something amazing, huh? What you built." He said.
"Don't pin this shit on me, you're as neck deep as I am." I said, as some form of humor. He chuckled at that.
"Does looking at it make it all feel like it's worth it?" He asked.
"No way in hell. After a while you just seem to run out of places to go." I replied gruffly. I took a moment to regard my own self. Dressed up in Military apparel from head to toe, this one with a tiger pattern, and a vest on. Pants securely tucked in to my boots and a knee sleeve over my right one. My unruly hair tied in a small ponytail. The eyepatch over my right eye to cover up the one I'd lost. I looked down to my left arm, the one that was made of a red metal, being a bionic prosthetic to replace the one I'd lost. Truly, a lot I'd given up to be able to look down at the Oil Rig out at sea below me. My base, my organization.
"But, there's not too many people I'd rather share it with." I added.
There was a moment of silence to take it in.
"So how does Russia stand now on our next potential op?" I asked Miura, expecting an explanation.
"It's not too far from being a done deal. They're getting hasty. It's almost about time they made their decision whether to send us in on Syria." He replied.
The tensions on the Syrian front had driven Russia to a dire straits with the US. Syria's own actions didn't help, but Russia being a superpower couldn't back out on their stances to help the country. Of course, we were always an option. Taking down another regime would mark a time of relative peace in the world, apart from minor terrorism plaguing certain countries that we dealt with on a constant basis.
Looking at my watch, I noticed the 15 minutes had nearly passed before tea time with the POTUS. The watch was pretty much the only decadent piece I had on my person. Compared to all the fancy tech I deployed with, this watch was stuck in the past.
"I have to go now. Keep me posted on the Russian front." I said.
"Will do, Boss… Oh, and here you go." He said tossing me something that looked suspiciously shaped like a watch box.
"Happy Birthday… Hikigaya." He said, grinning at the chance to use my real name.
"Fuck off." I said, adding "Thanks." To the end of that.
One Hour Later, MSF Base of Operations, "Mother Base"
The meeting with the POTUS was drivel as usual. Mainly asking for mission reports on their own missions while underhandedly asking questions about their politically differentiated countries. All of which I underhandedly rejected of course. I walked back to my own office on the second level of the Base, once again glancing down as the mechanics went about their duties, gaining the occasional salute from the men on watch duty. Miura was back on the same spot I left him. Although… the look on his face was not as jovial as his usual self. There was a look of contemplativeness mixed in. He looked up at me as I approached.
"Boss… You're not gonna believe the call we just got."
"Hm?" I said, looking at him. My perceptiveness is what gave me my very first ever moniker; long before the times of 'Big Boss' and 'The Legendary Soldier' or any of the countless others; the one given to me by Yukinoshita Haruno: The Monster of Logic. Although I suppose 'Hikki' might be an earlier one, but I digress. Even now, as my social skills have reached their all time low, this skill I honed. I could tell from his face, what troubled him.
"A family matter." I said, crossing my arms.
"Yeah, well, kind of. We got a call from the Japanese Prime Minister."
"Hayama…? What does he want?"
"He's got a job. Bodyguard duty. He sounded frazzled. He's hosting one of their usual big wig parties and has reason to believe there's a threat to his life, and the party will be the ideal time to get him."
"And?"
"He's specifically requested your services." He said, gauging my reaction. Naturally I didn't let anything show, because there was nothing to show.
"Why?"
"He's the Prime Minister. He's read your file from your time in the JSDF. Which means he just doesn't know about the Legendary soldier, he knows what the fuck you had to go through to gain that title. He offered us a cool 2 and a half million dollars for this. And sent over this to start you off." He finished, tossing a pile of papers to me. My lone eye widened somewhat at it.
"Diplomatic Immunity?" I said. But that wasn't what shocked me. Beneath that was research documents.
To explain, Japan has definitely maintained its reputation of being the epicenter and hub of some of the most advanced technology for almost a century. They were the first for full integration of the once fictional mechs into their army. This was new research fresh from the R&D of Japan. For him to hand over this, he must really be worried.
"Straight from Japan R&D. And he said that was just the prototype builds. He promised us a fresh order of these when they were complete."
"What the hell? Is this what his life is in danger for? I knew he was pioneering R&D, he funded millions into it. But this… Even so. Me going to Japan for bodyguard duty? Have you lost your mind?"
"Look I know it's unorthodox and beneath you, but…" But as expected I cut him off.
"But what? What if it's Cipher that's after him? What if he struck a deal with them to get me in exchange for his safety? It could be a suicide mission." I said sternly.
"Boss… Hikigaya. Under any other circumstances, I'd listen, but…" He had that contemplative look again.
"...But Yumiko." I finished. He nodded solemnly in response. I sighed, leaning over the railing.
"What about their kids?" I asked, referring to the boy and girl that they had.
"Yoko is already off in the U.S. with Dad. Hirohito is 18 already, so he's expected to attend."
"... Miura you're gonna owe me so damn hard after this." I said finally. I got off the rail and to the barracks to select the team I'd take to Japan.
"When is it?" I asked as I walked away.
"6 days. He wanted you there in 2 days." He replied.
"Tell him I'll be there in 4." I didn't look back, but I knew he was smirking.
3 Days Later, MSF Base of Operations, "Mother Base"
It was bustling activity on the main deck, as usual with my departure. With me, 15 personnel that I would take on to Japan. That gave me two fully prepped squads. I was dressed in my normal military attire, sleeves rolled up, and adding my vest. Didn't feel right without it on at all times. I watched as two choppers set down on the two adjacent Helipads, noisy as ever. As they touched down the men started loading up for the trip. Being somewhere in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea meant we had to chopper into our mainland base and fly to Yokota Air Force Base in Japan, Arriving tomorrow morning.
The choppers were getting ready to leave, waiting on me to get on, and Miura came up to the pads.
"Thanks again, Boss. This one's personal." He said.
"Alright, I leave MSF in your care. If I die, well, you know the protocols. What to destroy, and making sure Solid takes my place." I said, offering a rare grin back to my constantly doing so comrade.
"Yeah, I know. The legend must live on." He said.
With that I nodded and got on the chopper. Taking off to the skies I took one last glance over to my home. It wasn't that I had one of those premonitional feelings of death, but I can feel that conflict is coming.
The legend needs to pull it's worth.
25 hours later, Somewhere over India, MSF Military Transport Aircraft.
Dreamscape
"This is Hikigaya. I'm in position. Didn't keep you waiting did I?" I said into my comms. I had landed in a forested land somewhere in Russia, gathering intel on a top secret facility. I remember this mission. It was my first solo op. I was barely 28 years old.
"Alright, good to hear. From now on we're gonna switch over to codenames." said the commander on the other line.
"Your codename for this mission is Naked Snake." he continued.
"Naked Snake?" I replied, confused.
"Well, We're dropping you off 'naked' for this mission, as in with minimal supplies. A Tranquilizer gun and your knife. And well, not only are you pulling off the stealth of the snake, but from your file I read you've eaten a snake too?" he asked.
"Ugh… Once, in survival training." I replied begrudgingly.
"Very well. For this mission then, You're Naked Snake. I'll refer to you as Snake from here on out. You can refer to me as "John". He completed.
"As in, "John Doe"?" I asked curiously.
"Yes. You can reach me on this frequency, 140.5 anytime. Alright, from your current location you should head north. Time to move out."
That was the mission that went south. The mission where I was caught, and tortured. The mission where I lost my right eye.
I woke up, my left eye opening and adjusting to the darkness of the airplane. All that illuminated was the lights from the front from the cockpit and the red lights littered over the ceiling of the airplane. I was sleeping at the very back. Getting up from my resting position I walked over to the front of the plane, entering the cockpit. As expected, the two pilots were both currently awake, and one of the mission personnel manning the comms.
"Good Morning Boss." Said the comms guy, the other two pilots turning back and giving me a wave and greeting.
"Morning. Where are we now?" I asked.
"We're currently over Northern India. Turbulence can get pretty bad up here thanks to the Himalayan winds. Hope it didn't wake you Boss." said the Captain. I could see the light blue illumination of the sky as we moved forward, meaning we'd be hitting sunlight soon.
"We also got briefed by the JSDF via radio. We're landing about at 0700 hours local time. We have 3 hours of downtime, which we can use to rest up and unload our supplies. They're giving us trucks to transport our Jeeps and any other supplies into Tokyo. In 3 hours we'll get two helicopters to fly us into the city where the Prime Minister himself and his wife will receive us." Added the comms guy.
"The Prime Minister seems to be playing this one close to the chest." I replied. The plan seemed well enough. Once I got the intel from him and plans I could start planning for the event.
4 and a half hours later, Yokota Air Force Base, Japan.
Getting off the plane via the cargo ramp, we were greeted by 16 JSDF soldiers in a salute. In front of them was undoubtedly their commanding officer. He saluted me before lowering his arm into a shake which I took.
"Good morning, er, Mr. "Snake"." He said, in a heavily accented English. I recognized the man. He was under my ranks back when I was still in the JSDF. He eyed me up and down, rather subtly taking in my left arm and eyepatch. As others, he was surely curious as to how I was still a legend in the field.
"Japanese is fine for me, can't say the same for my men though." I replied, switching back to Japanese for the first time in a while. My English was at a fluent level with almost no signs of an Asian accent atop it. I certainly preferred it to speaking Japanese, even with Miura I now spoke in English.
"Alright then, thank you. The Prime Minister welcomes you back to Japan, and apologizes for him not being here to greet you on your first steps back on Japanese soil himself. He will meet you later in the day when you are in the City."
"That's fine… Anyhow, you are… Kogami, aren't you?" I replied, recalling the name that I surprisingly remembered.
"Oh uh… That's right. I'm surprised you remember me captain." He replied.
"Hm. Okay, you get us a hangar and we'll be out of your hair for a few hours, we can handle our unloading ourselves." I replied. Might as well be courteous since they were lending us their time and space.
"Alright, I'll signal our ATC to direct your plane to Hangar 4."
A few hours later
Unloading went off without a hitch. We were now on the choppers on our way into Tokyo. I was staring outside the open helicopter, taking in the sights. There wasn't much nostalgia to be had since while I was stationed in Tokyo, my 'home' per se was still in Chiba, so I spent most of my time on the base. Still, the unique appeal of a Japanese city triggered some memory of my youth.
"Having some nostalgia, Boss?" I was asked by someone oppositely adjacent to me. This was Sadayo Anzo, last name first. She was conveniently Japanese, as well as the one female I had picked on this team. You could call it sexist, but it was out of my hands that only 11% of our ranks were female. That was slightly lower than the 14.5% average seen in most countries. Still, there was an insistence from my end to have her on the team. I can see this op going a certain way and having a female with us will most likely prove beneficial.
"Not really, I didn't spend much time in Tokyo." I replied. I could see in her own eyes that she was feeling it though. I saw a certain spark every time she glanced over the towers of the city. I broke out from the thoughts as we began lowering altitude. From underneath I could see the two helipads we would land on. As soon as we touched the ground I got off the chopper. Looking straight in front, I was finally greeted with 3 familiar faces that I'd rather never have seen again.
Hayama Hayato, Miura Yumiko, and… Yukinoshita Yukino.
Of course, them being surrounded by 16 Military soldiers, and behind me 15 of my own, kind of ruined the moment.
Despite the choppers, there was a deafening silence. I slowly walked over to the trio. Each step I got a better grasp of their faces. Hayama had undoubtedly aged well, still looking early in his forties rather than the later that he was. He was wearing a blue suit. Yumiko looked the same, her blonde hair tied in a loose high ponytail which let some strands fall on her shoulders. She wore a white office dress. Her distress after looking at me was definitely apparent.
Yukinoshita seemed to look the most shocked, wearing a light cream office dress, suit jacket and all. All in all, the three of them looked great.
Expected from the big wigs of Tokyo. Hayama's political power had obviously reached its peak given his position, and the same could be said for the Yukinoshitas, her being the Speaker of the Councillors on the Diet, and Yukinoshita Construction had risen to the largest construction contractor in the country, with Haruno running the business.
And then there was me, a grizzled old man running a highly illegal private paramilitary organization. I stuck out like a poor thumb. Well, not too much. Scummy politics from them is what fuels my own line of work. Not to mention our own net worth is significantly higher than Yukinoshita Construction.
I completed my walk up to the three of them, standing face to face with the faker himself.
"Good morning, Prime Minister." I said formally, giving a bow in normal Japanese fashion.
"You can lighten up, please call me Hayama, Hiki-" I raised my hand to stop him. I turned back to my men and took a look at them. Some of them didn't know my real name and it was better kept that way. I turned back and gestured to me men to show Hayama.
"For now you can call me "Snake"." I said.
"Uhm… Alright. Snake, then. If you'll follow me, we can go to my office and discuss details in private. There are four SUVs to take you and your men to the place I arranged. It's a five-star hotel right opposite the venue of the event."
I didn't need to turn back to know, but I did anyway to see the badly hidden looks of glee the team was trying desperately to mask. I sighed. Staff morale above all of course.
"Okay I'll join. I'd like to send my men to the hotel right away though. They've been hard at work since the request came through."
"I suppose that's fine. The owner of the hotel is a close friend of mine, and obviously, I've informed him and he made sure, in secrecy, that any bags you happen to take in will be unchecked. I'll leave what you brought to your discretion. Your men can change into more civil clothing downstairs so as to not stand out." He said, gesturing to one of his own men. Slowly, he moved and following him, my men filed out and left the rooftop.
"You know, I did want you here 2 days ago." He replied, expecting some reasoning. I chose to instead give my trademark reply.
"Kept you waiting, huh?" I said, a slight grin on my face.
"Your file did mention you say that a lot." He replied.
"Where are my manners. Miura, it's good to see you." I said, lying to my teeth. She registered my greeting after a second. She was distracted. I raised my hand to shake hers. Useless.
Finally, I turned to Yukinoshita. She flinched a little when I turned my gaze on to her, she was trying hard to focus her gaze to match my left eye, rather than go for either my right eye or prosthetic arm.
"Yukinoshita… How've you been?" I asked.
"Hikigaya… What the hell happened to you?" She couldn't help but ask. Well at least she was direct about it.
"What happens on the field happens. Arm lost in an explosion that nearly killed me, eye lost in torture, which also nearly killed me." I said frankly.
"I never thought you would-" she began.
"Forget what you thought about me. That guy's dead. Me and the three of you, we're all strangers here." I said, firmly. This wasn't some sorry reunion, it was a job.
An unnerving silence befell them.
"I guess we'll move this to my office." Hayama said, ever being the one to break the ice.
A/N: And that's that. Let me know what you think.