That was it. It didn't sound too bad. Not great, but not bad. Klaus brought himself back from the brink of sleep, opened his eyes a fraction and lifted his chin off Taki's hair.

'Taki?'

No reply. Just the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

Almost relieved, Klaus closed his eyes again. He took the opportunity to filter Taki's hair between his fingers. Like strands of silk.

The afternoon sunlight still poured into the shed. Klaus mused. Here were two grown men, commander and captain no less, falling asleep in the middle of the day on the eve of a landmark battle that would determine the fate of nations.

Probably for the best, he decided. The words, those words, almost definitely sounded better in his head than they would aloud.


When Taki awoke a few hours later, he was alone in the shed.

He sat up, feeling sore in more than one place but altogether alright. The sun was still up and he tried to gauge the time. Mid-afternoon. Not too late to oversee last-minute pre-combat organisation. Still, it was a stupid move to have fallen asleep. If the reports were accurate, Ruttgenstein was just around the corner. Some commander Taki would make if his division was blasted from the face of the Earth by a surprise air raid while he slept soundly in his captain's room.

But try as he might, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had, in fact, slept soundly. He remembered everything that had happened not long ago with a surreal, self-conscious flush.

Heavy footsteps sounded from outside. Klaus swung the door open. His eyes fell on Taki.

'Hey,' he said, lifting a corner of his mouth.

Taki's heart pounded for absolutely no reason.

'Sorry. Had to run to the infirmary and back.'

It took a few bleary seconds for Taki to even remember why Klaus' arm was in a sling. Then he sat up straighter.

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine. Just felt like replacing the sling.' Woke up in pain like you wouldn't believe, saw part of the bandage soaked through with blood, masterfully avoided Suguri's questions about what I'd done to aggravate the wound, made him promise not to tell you. 'Nothing to worry about.'

Doubtful eyes watched as Klaus closed the door, sealing them both in the pleasant, dim light of the shed.

'What time is it?' asked Taki.

'Nearly three.'

'I have a meeting with the Fourteenth Division commander at four.'

Hans will be there, Taki remembered. This he didn't say out loud. He reached for his clothes.

Klaus, meanwhile, was kicking himself. He'd wanted to slip back into bed before Taki awoke. Now he felt like he'd lost a moment. The words he'd come up with in the hazy limbo before sleep swirled around in his head like racehorses anxious to be released.

Taki, listen. I've thought about it and…

No.

No, he shouldn't say it. Of course he shouldn't fucking say it.

He sat on the edge of the bed, fondly observing Taki's ruffled hair and the white skin that was fast disappearing under the shirt. Before he buttoned up fully, Klaus caught a glimpse of the mark he'd left on Taki's collarbone. He remembered how Taki had shuddered and convulsed around his cock right before Klaus bent low to suck his skin. Had that really only happened a few hours ago?

Before his thoughts went rogue, he reluctantly turned his head. The jade coat lay in a rumpled heap on the floor by the bed. He picked it up.

The room, he thought, smelled of flowers. He'd first noticed when he stepped back inside.

Taki was on his feet and dressing swiftly. After he buttoned his cuffs and ran a hand through his hair in a game attempt to straighten it, Klaus stood and held his coat up for him. Their eyes met once before Taki automatically turned and let Klaus slip the coat onto his shoulders, something he did quite fluidly even with one hand.

Having turned, Taki's eyes fell on a small pile of hardcover books on Klaus' desk in the corner; apparently the only ones that had survived the onslaught when Hasebe ordered his room stripped and searched (what now felt like years ago). Taki wondered what sort of books they were. And how Hans had known that a book had saved Klaus' life.

And then, out of nowhere, he was reliving how Klaus felt inside him. The heat. The relentlessness. The overwhelming power of his body. The disbelief, not for the first time, over Klaus' size. The grin that was like an anchor to which he clung when he was lost in a feeling he'd never believed possible. At least not for him.

When his coat was on, Taki pulled it closed and started to button it down, furious at his mental lapse. Behind him, Klaus showed no sign of moving away. Taki's pulse picked up again. The absurd thought occurred to him that Klaus had read his mind.

A large hand slid from his shoulder to his waist.

Taki's skin tingled. He expected, at any moment, to feel lips on the side of his neck.

His mind replayed something Klaus had mumbled a few hours ago. I don't know how you do this to me. Every time. I always come so close to losing my mind. Morphine-induced or not, Taki was struck by how much the words had echoed his own thoughts. Knowing that it was Klaus standing behind him, that it was his hand pressing gently through layers of clothing, was enough for fog to leak into the corners of his mind.

Please don't, he sent silently. Not now. I can't remember how to say no to you.

He didn't expect to feel Klaus' forehead thunk down, almost audibly, on the back of his head. It was a jarring, unwieldy sort of contact and Taki could only think to stay still. He was relieved to hear Klaus chuckle.

'You smell so good.'

They only stood there for another second or two before Klaus lifted his head. The hand was gone.

Taki fastened the last button and walked past Klaus towards the door. The offending hand now safely stowed in his pocket, Klaus let out a steady breath and turned to follow.

He should have fucking said it.


Taki braced himself before he told Klaus not to come to the meeting.

'Why the hell not?'

'You won't be coming on the mission. There's no point.'

Klaus fumed. He'd hoped Taki had somehow forgotten Suguri's advice. Like hell I'm not going on the final mission. (Yet another thing he didn't plan on telling the young master.)

'I still want to know what's going to be happening out there,' he said instead.

'I don't want you to know,' Taki said quietly.

The footsteps behind him stopped. Taki turned.

'Why the hell not?' Klaus said again in a different tone.

The thundering sound of feet filled the silence between them for a while. A large platoon of soldiers came jogging around the corner, their thick-chested drill sergeant shouting orders from the front. So disciplined were they that not a single one turned to look at either Taki or Klaus.

Behind them loomed the building in which all the officers were gathering to go over final strategy. An autumn wind had swept clouds across the face of the sun and coloured the world differently. There was the distant threat of rain.

'I don't trust you,' Taki said, when the sound of the platoon drifted off.

Klaus' heart skipped a beat.

'What?'

'I don't trust you not to follow us. If you know where we're going and what we're doing, you'll disobey me again and you'll try to join the fight. And you'll get hurt. Or worse.'

The clarification was somewhat of a relief but Taki's first words had left quite an impact. Especially because, in this case, Taki's prediction was right on the money; that was exactly what Klaus had been planning to do.

'I came here to join you in the fight,' he reminded him. 'And fighting means running the risk of getting hurt, or worse.'

'You're injured. You can't fight like you normally do. Meaning if you come with us tomorrow, you'll be an easy target. And a burden.'

Taki had lined up the words quietly in his mind after they left the shed. Words like trust and burden. He knew he'd have to pull out the big guns to stop Klaus from following him into the fire.

'That's not –'

'If you disobey me this time,' said Taki, looking him straight in the eye. 'I will never be able to trust you again.'

Klaus watched him, feeling helpless. In that moment, Taki was like a steel wall.

When Taki next spoke, his tone was considerably softer.

'Go back. Get some rest.'

No chance of that. I'll be waiting by the goddamn door.

'Can I at least stay with you tonight?'

He'd said the words before he'd even thought them. Taki's eyes widened in shock and he looked away. Klaus felt like he'd dropped something. He could only wait to be reprimanded.

A fair trade, Taki thought, his face burning. He didn't look up.

'Fine,' he said.

He began walking up the stairs to the building before his answer caught up with Klaus. Klaus, who stood there wondering if the world had been turned on its head. Perhaps he'd just had a morphine hallucination.

Halfway up the stairs, a thought occurred to Taki that made him stop. Hasebe, deep in conversation with a colonel near the door, caught sight of the commander and saluted. Taki didn't even see him.

He'd talked about trust. He'd used it to turn Klaus' sense of duty and loyalty against him. And yet, only hours ago Taki had told him a lie. An important lie.

You're not going to, are you? Do what he asked?

Hans Regenwalde. His impossible request, which now seemed far less impossible. Hans by his side in battle while Klaus was left behind.

Of course not, Taki had said.

He turned back around. Klaus was still there at the foot of the stairs.

Klaus, who was still struggling to absorb Taki's monosyllabic response.

Klaus, who was further surprised to see Taki turn and head back towards him with an unfamiliar look in his eye.

For a split second, he pictured Taki striding right up to him, pulling at Klaus' coat collar with both hands and kissing him in broad daylight in full view of everyone in the compound. He imagined Hasebe's jaw hitting the floor.

The thought made him grin like an idiot.

Taki didn't seem to notice this as he drew up to him once again.

'Klaus,' he said, his voice suddenly sounding strained. Almost urgent. 'Tomorrow, while I'm on the sortie. No matter what happens, or… or what you hear, you have to listen to what I just told you.'

'What?' Klaus was having trouble keeping up in general, it appeared.

'Tell me that you'll stay here, no matter what happens. Or whatever you might hear about the mission.' Or the people who are on the mission.

'You're really driving this one into the ground, aren't you?'

'Klaus, please.'

He tried to read more into the firm line of Taki's mouth. The intent eyes. But all he gathered was that his commander's trust in him had really frayed that much.

'Alright. Okay.'

'Swear it.'

'Geez! Okay, I promise I'll stay here.'

Another few seconds of feeling like he was on the receiving end of a pair of searchlights.

'I have some knitting to catch up on anyway,' he added in a serious tone, hoping to draw out one of those rare Taki Reizen smiles. He didn't, of course.

When Taki passed through the large double doors with Hasebe, Klaus finally felt the past few minutes catch up with him.

The clouds gathered in ever thicker layers and the temperature dropped steadily but he felt none of it as walked back to his room. He barely even cared that he'd just agreed to being tied to a post for the entirety of their final mission.

At least, at least, he thought. At least there would be tonight.


And so when the siren began howling not forty minutes later, he sent his first muttered curse to gods old and new, who, up until that point, had been quite good to him.

At least, at least, he now told himself as he flung the door of his shed open and ran at full speed through the courtyard. At least the siren hadn't waited until the moment he was hovering above Taki, trying to undo his zipper.

His ribs begged for him to slow down. His arm knocked about dangerously in the sling. But he ignored it all and made straight for the general meeting room building, dodging soldiers, officers and cadets. The siren kept wailing, mournful and fearful. Klaus recognised the state of the compound. Organised, tethered chaos. Each man rushing to his post. There was a certain beauty to it, like water gushing around a sink before it channelled its energy into a single, flowing current.

A flash of jade and obsidian made him change direction. Taki, Hasebe and a handful of officers were sprinting towards the tanks. Klaus could hear the steady, clear notes of Taki's commands even from a distance.

'Taki!'

But he couldn't hear him.

Klaus made it to the base of Murakumo just in time. Everywhere around them, soldiers darted up the sides of the metal beasts with an ease that seemed to defy gravity.

Taki was half in the tank and about to pull the hatch closed when he glanced down. His mouth fell slightly open. Klaus wondered whether he imagined that he suddenly looked paler than usual.

'Klaus! What are you –?'

'Relax,' Klaus said, though his panting let his message down somewhat. The pain in his ribs and arms caught up to him like they had been lagging by a few feet. He doubled up, braced on his knees. Taki looked about ready to clamber back out of the tank when Klaus held up his hand.

'It's okay,' he said, trying to catch his breath. 'Not about to stow away or anything. Just wanted to see you off.'

Brow furrowed, Taki pushed the hatch back.

'Did you run all the way here?'

'Taki-sama, we have to go!' came Second Lieutenant Azusa's echoing voice from the hull.

Klaus straightened, hand on his hip.

'It's okay, go,' he said.

'Klaus –'

'Would you just say goodbye and go, already?'

The pause was filled with the sounds of officers yelling commands and the reluctant, shuddering groans of tanks pulling out of the square. How many farewells did this make now? Klaus wondered. Hadn't he come to this country to be at Taki's side?

'I'll see you when I get back,' Taki said finally.

'Count on it,' Klaus said, trying a grin. 'You said yes again, remember? I'm holding you to that.'

Feet on the metal rungs, hand on the hatch, Taki struggled to pull his eyes away from him. He was still huge. Sturdy. Against the backdrop of tanks moving out and the relentless siren howl, Klaus was a single, fixed point; an unreal apparition. His sisters, Taki suddenly remembered, had called him a guardian spirit with golden eyes.

But there was something about Klaus that, in that moment, seemed just a little vulnerable. Something besides the sling and the ribs. A very subtle concavity in his posture. Taki couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he knew then that he had made the right decision.

He told himself that again to assuage the guilt of dropping out of sight and closing the hatch. There would be no one roaring on a motorbike alongside Murakumo that day.

He avoided everyone's eye until they were out of sight of the square.

Then a steady, reassuring voice spoke from somewhere on Taki's left.

'I don't think he saw me, Taki-sama. You needn't worry.'

Taki lifted his chin.

'I wasn't worried.' He glanced over his shoulder. 'Are the cuffs too tight?'

'They're fine. Especially given the circumstances.' Hans glanced at the guard whose sole duty throughout the mission was to watch him, down the barrel of a gun if necessary.

'There was no time to thank you properly, earlier,' said Hans. 'But I would like to now, at least. For the faith you're putting in me.'

Azusa tried to ignore the conversation. The back of his neck prickled.

Taki said nothing. His mind was somewhere in the past.

Was the guardian spirit tall?

Yes! said a chorus of innocent voices. Very tall!


A collective groan erupted from the cadets. Their commanding officer had just told them that they were to return to their training and regular schedules for the foreseeable future.

'But the final battle's being fought out there!' Ryoumei complained loudly. His voice echoed in the auditorium-turned-dojo. 'Shouldn't we be, I don't know, on standby or something?'

'You're not the reserves, you're cadets,' Honda said tiredly, eyes closed and eyebrows raised. He had all the air of a harassed lieutenant whose primary duty for the past few months had been cadet training. He'd recently received instructions that the boys should be kept occupied unless things turned sour for their side on the front lines, in which case they would be evacuated first.

This had surprised Lietuenant Honda. Normally cadets were, in fact, treated much like reserves; on standby to fight and used as the last line of defence if need be. But the order had come from the commander himself. They were to be treated as minors, not as soldiers.

'Cadets, reserves,' Ryoumei grumbled to himself. 'Same fucking difference.'

Beside him, Haruki grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. But he too felt that simmering anxiety. The memory of the siren still echoed between their ears. Practicing kendo was the last thing on their minds.

'Partner up,' Honda ordered, putting on his no-smart-ass-remarks voice. He retreated into the corner, wishing he had a radio to keep up with news on the front.

Shinais in hand, Haruki and Ryoumei faced each other. Despite how they felt only seconds ago, they were surprised to note how quickly their thoughts were filed down when they made eye contact and bowed. All other pairings in the auditorium felt it too. That unique tunnel vision and focus that was forged between adversaries. Even the impending battle and the siren calls and the war-ready adrenaline were shelved, if only for the moment.

Most of the boys lunged, ducked, weaved and struck with their commander in mind. His legendary moves and lethal strikes. There were times when Taki Reizen's speed and agility seemed almost otherworldly; times when it was easy to believe that there was something divine in the Reizen bloodline. Most of the cadets had been lucky enough to see him in action. They thought of him out there at that moment, fighting for them and their country. They sparred for him.

Haruki Yamamoto, on the other hand, envisioned someone else.

Ryoumei had noticed his change in technique over the months. He watched his friend, who was fast catching up to him in height and stature, lunge with a determination that was quite removed from the nimble-footed darting they'd been taught. He almost charged. With a recklessness that swiftly gave way to surprising strength and dexterity. With a strange glint in his eye that always pushed Ryoumei to the brink of losing his footing. He never quite did, though. Ryoumei was quite a hand with the shinai himself, even if his moves were more traditional.

They sparred furiously.

As sweat flew from his hair and the clack of shinai on shinai reverberated in his skull, Haruki tried to think about the lectures he'd patiently withstood from his father. The importance of the Yamamoto name. The path that had been forged for Haruki in the time of his ancestors. The proud place they had at the side of the Reizens.

Instead, he found that his mind was filled with images of a different kind. Something he'd spied from over a wall months ago. An implausibly tall foreigner, gold hair glinting in the sunlight, bare torso covered in bandages, some blood-splotched, moving with speed and skill that took his breath away. A ferocity that had their own commander backing up and on the defensive. Whenever he'd spun around, Haruki had seen flashes of a broad, white grin, again something alien to the serious, disciplined world of kendo. A smile which declared that everything, whether kendo or war or life itself, was all just a big joke and he was going to deliver the punchline.

Even when Taki had ultimately proven the better fighter, the calmer one, the one in control, and even when Klaus had fallen to his knees before Taki and tilted his head up sheepishly, Haruki was struck by the fact that that smile had remained. He wasn't near enough to hear what they'd said to each other. But that image had taken root in his mind and refused to let go.

That image was the reason why, with brawn that surprised even him, he managed to outpace Ryoumei, took advantage of his momentary surprise, heard the sound of him falling to the mat and finally stood over him, shinai pointed and chest heaving.

The bastard was smiling, Ryoumei thought incredulously. It made him grin too though. Impossible not to, really. Where Haruki Yamamoto was concerned.

'Not bad, kid.'

The deep voice pulled Haruki's head up and he spun around. Ryoumei peered around Haruki's knees.

Like he'd just been peeled from Haruki's memory, Captain Klaus von Wolfstadt stood leaning against the auditorium doorway, tan coat and all, his arm in a white sling. He wore the same smile.

Haruki felt his stomach somersault. He held the shinai stick firmly at his side and saluted. After a few seconds, the other boys in the auditorium also caught wind of the presence of an officer and they saluted too, most of them doing a fair job of hiding their reluctance.

'As you were,' Klaus said airily.

After a moment, the sound of shinai sticks clashing resounded again.

Haruki remained stiff and upright as Klaus approached. Ryoumei got to his feet slower than he normally would have. He was annoyed again for some reason. Perhaps because he'd just lost, he decided.

'I've never seen moves like that,' remarked Klaus. 'Well, not from anyone in this country, anyway. Who taught you how to do that?'

Haruki's cheeks burned.

'Uh –'

Klaus glanced over the tops of their heads at the far wall, missing Haruki's discomfort.

'Hey, Lieutenant!' he called.

Honda, who'd been sitting on the bench lining the wall with his arms folded, off in his own world, glanced up as if startled. Klaus stopped him from saluting with a dismissive wave.

'Do you mind if I borrow Cadet Yamamoto for a bit?'

'Yamamoto?' Honda echoed. 'By all means, sir.' He wondered why the foreigner wasn't out there at his commander's side.

Klaus looked back down at Haruki.

'Feel like helping me out with something?'

'I –' Haruki stuttered, caught off guard. He recovered in time. 'Yes, of course, sir!'

Also gripping his shinai, Ryoumei suddenly drew alongside Haruki.

'We're in the middle of training,' he told the captain in a firm, steady voice. 'Sir.'

Haruki turned to him, shocked at both the words and the tone. Klaus also turned a surprised eye on the new cadet. Tousled hair, sloppily tied belt. And something familiar about the look in his face. Something about his stance beside Haruki.

'We're not – it's fine, Klaus-sama,' said Haruki falteringly, trying to cover up for his friend's insolence.

Ah, Klaus thought, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. I've stumbled onto a little turf war, have I?

'You'll have him back before you know it,' Klaus assured the overprotective cadet.

You can have the kid, kid. I've got my own ridiculous turf war to deal with. But he tried not to let thoughts about Hans crowd him again.

As Klaus headed towards the door with Haruki on his heels, he fancied he could still feel the other cadet's glare on his back. The kid had balls, Klaus had to admit. It was kind of admirable.

A stand-off with a fourteen year old. Over Haruki Yamamoto. What had his life come to?

He glanced over his shoulder at Haruki. He'd only known the cadet for a handful of minutes at a time but he would bet his bottom dollar that Haruki had no idea what had just taken place.

'Who's your friend?'

'Oh, that's Cadet Fukushima. Ryoumei. He's my roommate.'

Klaus grinned at the floor. He'd had a roommate once.

'Sorry about him,' Haruki continued. 'He gets in trouble a lot for disrespecting his superiors.'

'Probably why I liked him so much.'

Haruki looked up in surprise and then smiled. Klaus returned it with a wink.

They walked out of the auditorium into a light drizzle. The cloud cover gave the impression that a heavy blanket had been pulled over the now-empty compound. A cold wind whipped at their uniforms.

'So, I asked around a few of the cadets,' Klaus said when they were out of anyone's earshot. 'To see whether anyone had the scoop on the smuggle scene. Radios, specifically. Took me a while to find someone brave enough to tell me. Most of them figured I was trying to get them in trouble. Anyway, when they finally gave up a name, imagine my surprise when it turned out to be the name of the only cadet I actually knew.'

Haruki blinked, too startled to even remember to blush.

'I stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago,' said Klaus. He thought about a nine year old boy he'd once met beneath swaying purple flowers. 'So I'm taking this as a sign. You with me?'

Haruki most certainly was not.

But by the time they reached the cadet dormitories, Klaus had explained it clearly enough. He needed to know what was happening on the front lines. And, as Klaus discovered less than five minutes after Murakumo had rolled out of the compound, Taki had given express instructions for the men in the radio and telegraph room not to allow Klaus inside. He had sighed at his master's well-placed paranoia and began scouting cadets.

In Haruki's room, Klaus stood by the window as Haruki, his cheeks still faintly red, salvaged the stolen radio from the bottom of his wardrobe. The fact that the captain was in his dorm and he was about to openly reveal something that could get him suspended made him feel as though he hadn't quite woken up yet. He was still wearing his kendogi, he realised idly.

'It's… uh,' he said, turning with the radio in his hands. 'It's just a receiver, not a two-way. And it's not the latest model. We found it in a storage room marked for repair.'

'And you repaired it?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You're full of surprises, Cadet.'

Haruki gave a small nervous laugh.

'Alright, power it up. Try all frequencies for now.'

Haruki sat at the desk and lifted the antenna until it was pointed at a specific tilt out the window. The angle of the antenna hardly made a difference; it was a symbolic gesture Haruki always performed that often made Ryoumei sigh in annoyance.

Klaus sat on Ryoumei's bed and watched the radio closely.

'Is there a specific line you want me to intercept, Klaus-sama?'

'Murakumo.'

Haruki looked at him once before turning back to the dial.

A great deal of static, some brief dialogue from other tanks. (Standard orders. The voices all sounded calm. It appeared they hadn't made enemy contact yet. It had only been fifteen or so minutes, after all.) And then the dial skimmed over Azusa's voice. Klaus lifted his hand at that. Haruki turned it back carefully.

'…on approach! And confirmed reports of enemy fighter jets, about ten minutes from contact.'

'Find out whether our air defence is ready.'

Klaus' heart pounded as Taki's voice rang clearly through the speakers. He leaned forward.

Haruki felt his pulse race as well. Forget suspension, what he was doing now was enough for expulsion. Maybe even court martial. His imagination raced ahead to his father's reaction.

But the look on Klaus' face, the tension that had suddenly and visibly gripped him, was enough to root Haruki to the spot. He turned up the volume.


For almost five whole minutes, there was just back and forth commands. Taki, then Azusa, then a few unfamiliar voices. Everyone was tense and on alert but there was nothing to indicate fighting yet.

'We have confirmed reports, Taki-sama.'

Azusa again. He then read out a long and detailed list of the enemy's attack stance. Numbers of fighter jets, ground troops and tanks. Klaus expected Taki to silence him at some point, but he let him read out the full list, plus the movements of each separate element since they started moving hours ago.

Klaus frowned slightly. Information about ground troop movement from hours ago? That information was only minimally useful when they were so close to engaging the enemy.

'What do you think?' Taki's voice said. 'Do you recognise the strategy?'

'Yes,' said a voice they hadn't heard until then.

Haruki got the fright of his life when, with no warning, Klaus jumped to his feet. The look in his eyes made Haruki quail.

'It's a Pincer ambush. I've seen Ruttgenstein do it before.'

Klaus' blood ran cold. He heard a high, thin drone in his ears.

'What does that mean for us?'

'We have to watch our flanks. It's a U-shaped attack where he'll hide his troops and tanks on the sides for as long as he can.'

As Taki issued orders rapidly to other tanks, Klaus' breathing suffered and, on cue, his arm started sending small, sharp pulses of pain throughout his body. He ran a hand through his hair, unaware of Haruki's anxious eyes watching his every move.

'Fuck!' he spat suddenly. 'The fucking bastard!'

He would have been there. He would have been there when Klaus stood at the base of Murakumo. He would have been there, coiled up in the bottom of the tank, waiting for Taki to descend.

Taki. Betrayal and confusion welled from a dark place Klaus didn't even know he had in him.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and wrenched the door open.

'Klaus-sama!'

His bike was parked beside his shed. It would take him just fifteen minutes to catch up to Murakumo, maybe even less. And when he got there… when he got there, what then? That part didn't matter. He would blast his way into the tank if he had to.

Tell me that you'll stay here, no matter what happens. Or whatever you might hear about the mission.

The voice, even clearer than the one that rang through the radio speakers, made him stop dead in the hallway. With a feeling like a rubber band snapping on his skin, the picture suddenly came into focus. Betrayal clawed at his gut with sharp talons. It was a real thing inside him. He'd never felt it before.

And then he remembered.

He'd sworn. He'd sworn to Taki that he would listen, at least this once. The only fucking time, Klaus realised, where it would have mattered, he had sworn to remain useless.

If you disobey me this time, I will never be able to trust you again.


Haruki was both relieved and apprehensive when Klaus stepped back into the room, bringing a dark thundercloud with him. His right fist was shaking by his side.

Behind Haruki, Taki was still issuing orders. Hans' smooth voice interjected now and then. Each time he spoke, the talons tore at Klaus just a little more.

'Klaus-sama,' Haruki tried again timidly. 'Are you –?'

He didn't at all expect Klaus to turn to Haruki's wardrobe and slam his fist heavily into the door. Haruki almost jumped out of his chair.

Still breathing unsteadily, paying no mind to his stinging knuckles nor the splintery wound he'd just left in the wardrobe, Klaus began pacing up and down in the narrow gap between Ryoumei and Haruki's beds. Haruki was reminded quite forcefully of a caged animal.

'Turn it up,' was all Klaus said in a frightening, ragged voice.

Haruki did so immediately. At that moment, there was a rumble and interference on the radio waves and the voices increased in pitch and tempo. Klaus stopped and looked round. Haruki's mouth had gone dry.

'Contact!'


Klaus' hand was running through his hair again, eyes glued to the radio as though he could change things just by staring. He'd never felt more helpless in his life.

Blasts came through sounding like frazzled interference. Each time, he felt his heart leap to his throat. Each time, when Taki's voice emerged and yelled orders, he felt light-headed. It was an endless, cresting cycle.

At long last, there was a lull. Azusa confirmed that the enemy tank had been destroyed by their fighter jets. Taki ordered them to move forward.

Klaus lowered himself weakly onto the bed. Even Haruki felt his heart rate slow down. He realised he'd been gripping the desk subconsciously and relaxed his hands.

Azusa had more good news. Their new offensive, targeting the Pincer ambush, was well underway on the right flank.

'What about the left?' Taki wanted to know.

There was tense silence for a while.

'Azusa?'

'Taki-sama,' Azusa sounded nervous. 'We just got word that Colonel Shizuka's comms are down. Their platoon is fine but no one's been able to get through for ages. He doesn't know about the new formation.'

'Is there anyone else nearby who can lead the left flank attack?'

'No, sir.'

A pause where Klaus could almost see Taki's look of intense concentration.

'I can lead them.'

The voice made Klaus grit his teeth.

'If you put me in a jeep. I'll drive out to Shizuka and help him locate the hidden flank and attack.'

Pain radiated up his arm, trying to blot out the rest of the world. Klaus felt his head swim. After everything he'd been through, sitting still on a bed in a cadet's dorm room had turned into one of the most difficult moments of his life.

'Do you know where Shizuka might be?' asked Hans.

'From their last transmission they're near the western ridge by the river.'

Klaus heard the hesitation in Taki's voice. He recognised it.

Don't you fucking do it, Taki. He's lying. Can't you tell he's –?

'Alright,' Taki said. He gave orders for the nearest jeep to draw up alongside Murakumo.

'Taki…'

Haruki looked up at the strange tone in the captain's voice. He felt it tug at his heart in a way he couldn't place.

Klaus, meanwhile, wasn't even aware he'd said anything out loud.

For the next few minutes, it was hard to visualise what was taking place. Standard reports and orders. He kept his ears tuned, ignoring his arm, ignoring his pulse.

And then finally:

'Make sure you stay on the radio,' Taki said. 'And be careful.'

'I will, Commander. I'll see you when I get back.'

He didn't think there was anything inside him left to tear, but the claws kept tearing anyway.