Only the dead have seen the end of war. There are, however, exceptions to this rule.
Before the first Tokyo had disappeared from the face of the Earth, almost sixteen years ago now, Bar Champion was a hotbed of activity on any given Kabukichou night. The drinks were cheap, the karaoke was loud, and it was a stone's throw away from the closest public restroom to the Golden Gai drinking alley.
A nuclear device had wiped all of that away in fairly short order, courtesy of the Impact Wars, but Bar Champion II in Tokyo-3's aptly-named Shin Golden Gai had managed to revive the ambiance of days past. Like its namesake, the popular watering hole served as an affordable night out both for local residents and for the flocks of foreign tourists who had descended upon the city in the wake of the Angel War, eager to visit the hallowed ground where humanity had won its battle for the right to exist.
Friday nights always drew a big crowd, most of them foreigners who had just arrived from lengthy international flights and were looking to relieve some travel stress. As such, the karaoke bar was filled with the sound of Top 40 and English-language songs - in recent years, Americans had become the largest visitor demographic followed by Europeans and, finally, the Chinese. People cheered when a round of drinks was unceremoniously deposited in front of them; elsewhere in the packed room, others groaned as the steady stream of pop music hits was interrupted by yet another Broadway hopeful trying to prove her expertise with show tunes. In yet another corner of Bar Champion II, a man lit up a cigarette.
He looked like your typical Japanese salary worker: clad in grey suit pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his short brown hair was styled in the contemporary fashion that most men his age adhered to. A carelessly unbuttoned collar and a loosened tie clashed with his well-shaven face, as if he wasn't sure to play by the rules or throw them out the window. He was a fairly unremarkable sight in this part of town, but his steely eyes told a different story for the right readers.
On most nights, the young man preferred to take his drinks at Mongolian Drunk(er), another revival of a classic Golden Gai haunt. That establishment was much smaller, much quieter, more intimate; he preferred it that way, even though the local barkeeps loved to draw in crowds. Loud and boisterous was definitely not his scene, and it hadn't been in years - but there was a very, very good reason he had chosen to come here tonight. You just couldn't beat hiding in plain sight, after all.
He checked his watch: just a little after ten in the evening. Somebody was late. In another ten minutes and he'd call for a check-in; ten more past that and it probably meant his cover was blown, at which point he'd be out the door and on the way to a safehouse.
"Excuse me," someone spoke-yelled from behind him, "would you happen to know what time it is in Vienna?"
Feeling a tinge of relief, the salaryman took a long drag of his smoke, held it, and exhaled slowly before giving his response. He didn't even have to look back to know what he would have to say.
"I believe it's springtime in Vienna, my friend."
There was movement from behind as the person shifted to his side and then in front of him, taking the seat directly across the table. Like most of the current bar clientele he was an American, but only a tourist in appearance. He was a fair-skinned taller man, well-built and not overly so, with his long black hair done in a combover. Even though he wore a fairly casual outfit - a grey-red plaid flannel and a pair of slim jeans - the look on his bearded face indicated that he was here for business.
The American took a sip of his own draft beer then set the glass down on the table, seconds before his face broke into a familiar smile.
"Kaji, my man, you are looking pretty fly for a dead guy. I almost didn't recognize you."
"That's kinda the idea," replied Ryouji Kaji, also in English, his own face now wearing a grin as he reached out his hand for a shake. "Thanks for coming out on such short notice, Darren. It's good to see you."
Darren Scott grabbed the offered hand and shook, his grip warm and friendly… underlined by a barely-concealed strength. It served a dual purpose as both a greeting and a warning. Only very specific men shook hands like that, Kaji mused, and they were not to be fucked with.
"Likewise," Darren said, letting go of Kaji's hand, "And that intel you passed me was a…huge help, so the powers-that-be couldn't really say no to this. I think they know the score at this point: I've been given some pretty loose ROE when it comes to making things happen."
That was a surprise. Kaji cocked an eyebrow; he hadn't been counting on this level of support from the Americans, and while unexpected it was definitely very welcome - especially for the things he had in mind. The yanks were pretty damn good at this sort of venture.
"Officially? Or unofficially?" Kaji asked.
"Officially unofficial," responded Darren with a shrug. "We obviously can't get playtime with most of the big toys, considering the nature of these target packages… but ask for weapons and safehouses, and the Agency shall provide."
"And people...?"
"Three others, then me, of course. If you need additional, you're going to have a backfill from elsewhere - Bragg wanted to send more, but as you can imagine, things have been a little… busy since The SEELE Report was released."
Darren took another swig of his beer, then chuckled derisively.
"DEVGRU was chomping at the bit to put a team on this one. Unfortunately for them, you asked for me by name, and so Gable Stone got the vote of confidence."
"Huh." Kaji raised his drink in a toast, a gesture that Darren returned. "Here's to friends in high places… and to the continued success of the Unit. Thanks again."
"No need to thank me. We take care of our friends," Darren replied, wiping a hand across his mouth and setting his now-empty glass down. "And speaking of high places… I gotta say, that was some strong work on that exposé. You've been dealing with some crazy shit since the last time I saw you."
"How'd you know it was me?"
"My man, you're the only friend I have that's tied up to all that weird shit, and a friend of mine wouldn't let that slide. Secondly, it was very thorough - knowing how you work, all I had to do was put two and two together."
Kaji laughed then took the last drag of his cigarette. He snubbed out what was left in the ashtray, then leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest and a bemused smile crossed his face.
"If an oaf like you could make me that easily, I must be losing my touch."
"Hey, it's only because you're my friend. I don't think any of your enemies would be privy to that first bit of information."
"Fair enough. Then as far as the world is concerned, I'm still a dead man. Which is fine by me. My only regret is that the report will have the Old Men on the run and in hiding by now - we have our work cut out for us."
"You prioritized, and you executed," replied Darren. "You made a choice and now we adapt to the situation. Not a big deal - the world's not that big, in the grand scheme of things. They only have so much Earth to run to before they hit a dead end."
"It's still going to be rough. Without official sanctioning from NERV or the UN, we're going to have to do the heavy lifting on our own - intel-wise and target-wise. This whole process could take years… assuming we live that long."
"I can say with certainty that the USG has a vested interest in seeing that this mission is completed, no matter the timeframe." Darren paused, lost in thought, then grinned once again. "Shit, the world has a vested interest in this. However long it takes."
Kaji nodded in agreement, then reached into his pants pocket for his pack. He flipped the top open to see that he was down to his last two, inverted so that the tobacco sides were facing up. He tilted the pack to show Darren, and the other man peered into the small box.
"Down to the lucky ones. Want a smoke?"
"Sure," Darren replied, reaching in to grab a cigarette. Kaji pulled the second one; his lighter clicked open and the dark corner was illuminated by the glow of a small flame. Both men lit up, the tips of their cigarettes alighting, a cloud of burnt tobacco wafting through the air. In the background the show tune faded out, much to the relief of almost the entire bar; the young lady who had been singing passed the mic to the next person, and the opening riffs of a Japanese rock song pierced through the air.
"Just give me a reason, to keep my heart beating!" began the new singer, his voice a little too soft for the song's driving lyrics. "Don't worry, it's safe right here in my arms…"
"Remember to pop the capsule," reminded Kaji.
Darren pinched the filter before finding the small plastic piece, then pressed harder until it burst. He took a pull, and his taste buds were greeted with blueberry-flavored menthol, a sensation unique to Asian cigarettes. He normally preferred Lucky Strikes, but this was a welcome change.
"Am I smoking to 'good luck' or 'good fuck'?" Darren asked jokingly.
"None of the above," said Kaji. "... Let's smoke to 'good hunting.'"
It had been almost an hour since Darren had left the bar and faded into the darkness of Tokyo-3 - the party was still in full swing, the night still very young for the kind of area they were in, but Bar Champion II had served its purpose. The smokescreen of tourists was no longer necessary so Kaji paid for the last round of drinks, waved goodbye to the old, smiling Filipina bartender, and made his way out into the warm night.
The front door sealed behind him with a soft hiss, abruptly cutting off the sounds of karaoke, and Kaji found himself back in the narrow alley outside - one of several that made up Shin Golden Gai. Hundreds of smaller bars were packed into this small space, even tighter than typical Japanese standards, and music, conversation and clinking glass drifted out of the doors and windows that lined the area. Clients stepped out, some stumbling, to make their way home or to the next bar on their crawl; new ones stepped in with vigor, ready to drink and meet new friends… or more.
A couple exited a bar a few meters to his front and immediately set to work kissing each other passionately, oblivious to the world around them as they pressed up against the exterior wall, embracing as they went. They were also Japanese, in their early twenties just based on appearances, and their faces were blushed deep red - a likely combination of an abundance of alcohol and self-consciousness. Kaji smiled sadly, reminded of happier times past and a certain NERV major that he missed very much… and who had been living with the notion that he was no longer of this Earth for the past almost-year.
That hurt him more than anything: knowing that to her, he was gone. He shook his head and savored the memories for a few moments longer before turning the other way to give the young lovers some privacy. Without conscious effort, his new burner phone appeared in his hand; without thought, his thumb danced over the screen, inputting a sequence of numbers that he had memorized and kept close to his heart. Damn, he mused, some seconds later, Is that really all it took to get me on this edge? I really am losing my touch.
He stared down at his cell phone, mentally repeating the digits he had dialed in and contemplating however many ways this could turn out - both for better, and for worse. Was it worth it?
He hovered his thumb over the "send call" button, gripped by indecision… but he instead clicked the power button on the side of the phone, putting it to sleep, before slipping it back into his pocket.
Kaji looked towards the night sky and sighed, the stars dimmed by the glow of Tokyo-3, then craned his neck to peer behind him; the young couple was gone, disappeared into the buzzing maze of Shin Golden Gai. Satisfied that he had given them their moment, he turned on his heel and began to walk.
Thoughts of his purpled-haired lover continued to fill his mind, but a sense of purpose flowed alongside them. His work wasn't finished, and those words that he had failed to say so many years ago would have to wait even longer now.
He just hoped that by then, it wouldn't be too late.