Please read: As of 9/10/2020, all existing chapters have been rewritten into a revised/slight reimagining of the established story. I highly suggest you read this fanfiction from chapter one if you have already started reading before the aforementioned date. Thank you for reading this story and I appreciate your support.
Muddled darkness was all the young Ichika Orimura could see through whatever was covering his eyes. The barest hints of light and shadows moving to and fro his peripherals along with the light sounds of footsteps on concrete were the only things that clued the boy to his situation. He didn't have much time to ponder nor pity himself however as the blindfold obscuring his vision was roughly yanked down.
"Black hair, brown eyes, the features check out. This runt's Orimura's brother alright. M will be pleased for once," a woman snorted, crossing her arms.
Ichika's eyes squinted as the overhead lights momentarily blinded him before snapping his wide eyes to the woman who just spoke. She had shoulder length black hair that neatly framed her face, a disinterested visage painted on her features.
Her eyes however made the boy shrink into himself. Contrasting her aloof countenance, her red eyes glimmered with restrained cruelty. Sadistic enough to seek pleasure from others suffering but held in check by a cold professionalism.
"You know, we've still got some time. Why don't we have a little fun with the kid. I got a brand new knife just for this kind of stuff," another woman with long brown hair chuckled, a manic smile smeared across her face.
The women narrowed their eyes however as the soft roar Ichika recognized as the sounds of an IS touching down to land interrupted whatever act of cruelty that was about to play out.
"The hell? It's too early for Orimura," the woman with brown hair growled.
Blonde hair swayed from side to side as another woman entered the warehouse. The new woman eyed the smuggled weapons that lined the warehouse alongside the metallic frames of two stolen IS in their inactive form.
"Idiot, did you forget the American? I'll break both your damn legs if you ignore another pre-op briefing. We're making a deal with the Americans while we're here. Knocking out two bird with one stone and all that," the red eyed woman with black hair hissed.
The blonde's gaze flipped from the two women to the obviously kidnapped boy. Had she seen this kid somewhere before? The boy's features were familiar to the blonde somehow.
"I didn't realize Phantom Task dirtied themselves with human trafficking. Talk about unprofessional," the blonde remarked with a condescending shake of her head.
The black haired woman bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. This was why she hated Americans, they were oh so great and patronizing.
"We don't, just a standard abduction operation we're in the middle of. One that doesn't concern you whatsoever," she snarled.
The blonde frowned, flicking her eyes to the stolen IS before settling back on the boy. Shit, now she knew why she recognized the brat. This was Ichika Orimura, Chifuyu goddamn Orimura's little brother. There was no way the Brunhilde herself would be happy that her kid brother was being held by the world's leading terrorist organization. Was she on her way now?
"I don't like this, the deal's off," the blonde said brusquely, turning on her heel and heading back where she came.
"Stop right there you bitch," the woman with long brown hair growled, bringing a pistol aimed to the back of the blonde's head. "Boss isn't gonna like you flaking… and neither am I. Now how about you turn back around and finish the deal before I finish you."
The woman turned around, her cold fury encapsulated within a single frown. "I know you Phantom Task pilots aren't very bright, but do you realize who you're pointing that thing at? Surely you aren't so brain dead as to forget that Uncle Sam doesn't forget nor forgive such blatant transgressions. Be thankful that we barely tolerate you trash in the first place."
The blonde activated her IS in a flash, a bulkier model with heavy armor plates and two enormous howitzer cannons mounted to her shoulders. The heavy metal plating surrounded her form and its energy field shimmered slightly as if daring anything to try and pierce the barrier. Any american insignia that was standard to U.S forces was conspicuously missing from her IS.
The two Phantom Task pilots activated their own IS in response and a standoff soon ensued.
The three women, so immersed in their shared disdain of each other, failed to notice the young Ichika slowly and awkwardly wriggling towards the edge of the warehouse despite his wrists and ankles being bound.
His temporary freedom of attention was not long however.
"Get down here Gretta and beat the kid unconscious or something. He's seen enough of this shit show," the woman with black hair ordered to seemingly no one.
A black IS perched in the ceiling slammed down next to Ichika. Had she been hiding there the entire time? Ichika didn't question it as panic flooded through him and he squirmed back in fright.
"Not one to beat on kids, but orders are ordered right? Nothing personal kiddo," the woman huffed, taking a menacing step towards the prone boy.
In his panic, Ichika shuffled backwards right into the frame of one of the stolen IS with an audible *thunk*. To the shock every occupant of the warehouse, the IS whirred to life, responding to a potential pilot's touch.
"No fucking wa-" the woman with black hair began to mutter before being cut of by the harsh buzz of her radio. A single transmission blared for all to hear.
"The mission is a success and Orimura has located your position, withdraw immediately", a female voice intoned over the radio waves.
"Fuck me, grab the kid Gretta. There's no way we're letting him go with what we just saw," the black haired woman hissed. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze returned to the American who was now smirking victoriously.
"The deal is a bust, but maybe we can gain something much more valuable than two dinky IS models. All teams move in," Angela said, running a hand through her golden hair, already ruminating the potential of the captured boy.
The roof of the warehouse burst open, natural rays of sunlight shining into the warehouse. Several IS with American insignia, unlike the blonde's, soon descended while squads of men shuffled in from side entryways.
"So it was all a setup?" the black haired woman spat, cautiously eyeing the new enemies.
"Just a precaution. You didn't really think that we would really trust you people did you? Don't get me wrong, Uncle Sam still values your group's cooperation with ours. However, something far more interesting has presented itself. I'm sure you understand."
"We took the kid, we're leaving with him. You can have your two IS as according to the deal so how about you fuck off," the brown haired woman snarled.
The blonde's smirk waned, growing tired of the situation. "The boy comes with us. Unless you really believe you can escape with not only our organization but Orimura as well bearing down on you?"
"Do you think we can't?" The brown haired woman taunted, charging her IS's mini railgun and aiming it at the Americans.
The blonde laughed, instantly calling the bluff. "Don't worry, we still have orders to play nice. Just hand the boy over and our business is done. Run along now, or else big bad Orimura will get you. Even we recognize her power you know."
The brown haired woman bit her lip. "What's saying we don't expose you shitbags for what you really are? All your dealings with Phantom Task, your little organization, and what about your blatant disregard for the Alaska Treaty?"
"You really think anybody would believe you? You, terrorist scum, as opposed to me, a stalwart defender of freedom and democracy," Angela mocked with a dramatic wave of her hand.
"Enough! Our mission is complete. We withdraw immediately," the black haired woman commanded with a sharp frown.
"But-"
"We withdraw or I'll kill you right here in front of the Americans and haul your IS back to base", she warned.
The two other phantom task pilots scowled, sending a furious glance at the Americans before following the black haired Phantom Task pilot in full retreat.
The discarded Ichika looked to the approaching woman with a mixture of fear, suspicion, and maybe an inkling of gratitude. Where was Chifuyu-nee? Wasn't she supposed to rescue him?
"Hey kid, are you hurt? I hope those terrorists didn't harm a hair on your little head. You can call me Angela by the way, you're safe now," the blonde now identified as Angela soothed, deactivating her IS and kneeling in front of the boy.
"Let me get those uncomfortable bindings off you," Angela offered, giving an inviting wave of her hands.
Ichika sat frozen for a few seconds before shaking himself from his stupor. Hesitantly, he squirmed forwards into Angela's arms, letting the woman cut the wire binding his wrists and ankles.
"Listen buddy, we're going to have to take you to our home for a bit. It's all boring adult politics and stuff. But don't worry, we'll treat you good, we're not like Phantom Task," Angela cooed, patting Ichika's shoulder comfortingly.
Ichika knew a lot about the IS, how could he not when his sister was the pilot she was. He understood what had just happened, he understood he had become someone special, he understood he had just been saved by kind people. Thus, he nodded resolutely to the woman, putting on the bravest face he could muster.
"Thatta boy, we'll take care of you," Angela praised, ruffling the boy's hair. "Skunk, get over here and take the kid back where it's safe. Oh, and get your squads to haul off those stolen IS, they are American IS from this day onward."
Ichika was quickly led by the hand of the woman dubbed 'Skunk' by Angela . He recognized her as one of the American IS pilots that had crashed through the ceiling to save him. For some reason, he remembered a time when he and his sister sat down for dinner once and Chifuyu-nee complained about Americans. He couldn't quite remember what she said though. Ichika supposed it didn't matter and shook his head to clear the random thought. He was safe now.
"What's your name little man?" the woman named Skunk asked with a questioning look.
"O-Orimura Ichika."
A spark of recognition flashed in her eye. "Orimura huh, that makes a lot of sense. Rest easy though, we'll protect you from now on. America extends its help to those who need it and all that."
Ichika failed to hear the soft self deprecating chuckle that followed.
Skunk led Ichika outside the warehouse where a helicopter was waiting. She waved a hand to get the pilot's attention, "captain says the kid needs immediate extraction back to the states."
The pilot nodded wordlessly and began pushing buttons and flicking levers Ichika couldn't see. Ichika was then guided into the helicopter's passenger hold and into a seat. Skunk gave a thumbs up to somebody Ichika couldn't see and closed the door to the helicopter before taking a seat opposite him.
She watched Ichika fiddle with the seatbelt mechanism with an unimpressed look. After a minute and the helicopter slowly rose into the sky, she sighed.
"Shoulder straps come together and click in with the waist."
Ichika nodded bashfully before successfully strapping himself in. "Thanks Ms. err Skunk."
Skunk grunted in a disinterred response before leaning back into her seat. She choose to distract herself by fiddling with the metal canisters that were strapped to her belt and torso, completely ignoring the boy.
Minutes turned to hours as the helicopter glided through the air and despite everything, Ichika couldn't help but feel excited at the turn of events. Even if it was pretty scary, in the end, he was thankfully saved by the good guys. However, as time passed and the excitement drained from his system, all that was left was exhaustion from the most climactic day of his young life.
Ichika Orimura fell into a deep sleep as he was taken to his new home, the United States of America.
At The Warehouse
"What are Americans doing here, where the hell is my brother?" A scowling Chifuyu Orimura demanded. She'd received intelligence from the Germans that her brother had been kidnapped and taken here by the terrorist organization Phantom Task. Without a single doubt in her mind, she'd forfeited her victory in the second Mondo Grosso and blazed a path to where her brother had been taken.
However, all she found upon arriving were American tier one operators and IS pilots milling about like they belonged here.
"Short black hair, brown eyes, a couple inches shorter than me, is he here!?"
"Calm down Orimura, we have no idea where this kid is. We had no intel on a hostage. Even if your brother was here, Phantom Task is long gone. Someone must have tipped them off, they barely slipped through our fingers," Angela sighed with faux irritation.
Chifuyu snapped her gaze to the blonde woman, studying her features before taking in her surroundings. Why was the warehouse's ceiling destroyed? Was there a struggle? But there were no bullet casings, no burn marks, and no blood at all. It didn't quite add up. And why was this American even telling her anything? American's were always so stingy with their secrets.
"You don't look like standard American forces or even special forces for that matter. Who are you people, your involvement here is in clear violation of the Alaska Treaty," Chifuyu growled, eyes narrow in suspicion.
"Come now Brunhilde, we're not here to pick a fight with any sovereign nation. Uncle Sam is willing to exhaust all of America's resources in the defence of freedom and democracy worldwide. You know as well as I do that we hate terrorists," Angela replied, placing a hand on her hip.
Chifuyu growled. Damned politics, damned terrorists, damned Americans. Where the hell was Ichika? "As bullshit you people are, I need to find my brother. But don't think I'll forget about you."
"How frightening, do you really have time to be taunting me though? Poor little Ichika Orimura could be being tortured as we speak," Angela scoffed.
Anger smoldered within her and Chifuyu resisted her lesser instincts to put the woman in her place. She took a shaky breath, then another one. And with a look that could freeze hell over, Chifuyu rocketed into the sky with her IS, easily shattering the sound barrier as she flew.
Angela gave a large sigh and tiredly ran a hand through her blonde hair as she watched the Brunhilde soar into the distance. But a smirk soon found itself on her features as ideas regarding the boy flew through her head.
"Alright, business is finished, all teams prepare to head out," Angela commanded through her radio. Her tiredness slowly disappeared as her mind wandered back to the boy who was now on his way stateside. This could actually make the history books. The boy could at least, she doubted she would ever be in any book.
She secretly hoped the higher ups wouldn't do anything too radical with the boy. He was admittedly a cute kid, might even be a heartbreaker when he grows up. The kid also seemed a bit naive, but in a kind of funny way. Just the type of guy her younger sister would be all over.
With a small laugh of amusement, she reactivated Bulldog, her personal IS and ascended into the now darkening sky. Two additional IS for Uncle Sam in of itself was a tremendous gain. The real victory however was the boy. To think, it was possible that a male could pilot an IS.
However she did feel an inkling of pity for the boy before promptly tossing it aside with a snort. She wasn't going to fool herself, the boy was essentially abducted twice today. But she supposed she wouldn't let it bother her. She did this sort of stuff all the time, she was a patriot after all.
Ichika slowly awoke, groggily wiping the sleepiness from his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the sun shining brightly through the lone window to his left. He idly deduced that he had slept through the entire night into next morning.
"Ah, so the little man finally awakes," the woman Ichika identified as skunk remarked, placing a metal canister at the apex of a little pyramid of similar canister she had built.
Suddenly Ichika remembered everything, how he had been kidnapped and was now probably in the United States. His childlike mind shrugged it off quickly however, immediately focusing on the present.
"What's that?" Ichika questioned, pointing at the metal canisters stacked precariously on the night table that was beside the bed he was laying in.
"Huh? It's a pyramid of course. It's actually the 28th I've made waiting for you to wake up. You're a real deep sleeper kid, I've never known anyone who could sleep through touchdown with how loud those rotor blades are," Skunk said with an annoyed scoff.
"Ah… sorry I guess. Also, I meant what are those metal thingies?" Ichika asked, pointing closer to an individual canister.
"Oh! So that's what you were asking, knew you wern't that stupid kiddo. See, these are my darling creations. Inside of each canister is a healthy dose of Dichlorodiethyl Sulfide cooked up by yours truly," Skunk preached, taking off the top most canister on the pyramid and presenting it to Ichika.
She sighed at Ichika's blank look. "I suppose you ignorants refer to the chemical agent as mustard gas. You know, the stuff that causes permanent eye damage, burns the skin, and makes breathing a big no no."
"Wanna see one?" She offered, holding the canister out in front of Ichika's face who immediately recoiled.
"Come on you big baby, it's not going to go off or anything… probably. Even if it somehow does, I always keep one of those state of the art gas masks with me. Though I suppose I only have one and if it came down to it, well... I'd be sorry for all it'd be worth. Besides, Dichlorodiethyl Sulfide isn't totally lethal. Trust me, if the organization let me keep my more lethal agents on me while stateside, I would."
Ichika looked at the outstretched hand holding the gas canister, then to the woman, the back to the canister. He needed an adult, a real adult.
"Stop scaring the kid you psycho," a voice spoke from the entrance of the room. It was the blonde woman who had saved him. Angela, Ichika recalled.
"I don't think you're qualified to call anyone a psycho Watchdog. Don't forget that I've been around longer than you, I still remember the stuff you did in your early career. Also, I'm not a psycho, I'm a chemist, there's very much a difference," Skunk retorted. The two women glared at each other like two apex predators eyeing each other up.
"Whatever, just put that crap away, I've got to talk to the kid," Angela said with a sigh.
Skunk grumbled a few unintelligible words under her breath before halfheartedly packing away the canisters into her belt and numerous other pouches.
Angela sighed and brought a chair to sit across from his bed before taking a seat in it. "First of all, I'm sorry for whatever this crazy woman said or did to you Ichika. Since we already know your name, it's only fair you know both of ours. Take it as a sign of trust."
"This nutcase is Emily Kӧnig, though you know her Skunk. We call her that because of the… abstract form of warfare she likes to employ. Truthfully though, it's because people always avoid her because of the gas she's always packing."
"That's not true at all! Don't listen to her Ichika, I simply choose not to mingle with the ignorants who are incapable of understanding me or my chemistry," the now named Emily stated defensively.
"Also, I didn't know we were just throwing names around, Angela Wyler," Emily added with a tisk.
"Come now, it's not like we really exist. We haven't in a very long time."
Emily shook her head. "Why do we even have aliases then?"
"It's tradition, you know that."
"Well you're not the one who was named after an animal known for shitting out gas!"
Angela shook her head in exasperation looking back to Ichika apologetically. "Whatever, just call me Angela and we'll get along swimmingly Ichika."
"O-Ok Ms. Angela."
Angela glared. "Drop the Ms."
"Yes Angela."
"Better."
"Get on with it and tell him what you're going to say," Emily huffed.
"And are you sure? I've got an idea what you're about to do…" Emily added quietly so that only Angela heard her.
The blonde nodded subtly to her companion.
"I'm sure you understand your precarious situation right Ichika?" Angela asked.
"Umm, I guess I saw you guys doing something secret and you don't want anybody finding out. So… I kind of have to be in America right now? I guess that means I won't be able to see Chifuyu-nee for a while," Ichika said quietly with a sad look.
Angela pursed her lips. "That's… basically right. But you skipped over a very crucial part. Remember back at the warehouse? You bumped into that IS and it glowed with light, it started up when you touched it."
"But that would mean…"
"You're the first and perhaps the only male who is capable of piloting the IS Ichika Orimura."
"No way…"
Angela leveled the boy with a serious look. "You have a few options going forwards young man. First, you can 'disappear' into a very special witness protection program indefinitely. I wouldn't recommend this however, you'd leave our care if that happened. There is a second option, one that took quite a bit of effort to iron out, but we've thought up of something satisfactory."
"What is it?" Ichika asked with wide eyes.
"Well, you'd come with us," Angela said, motioning to Emily, who had remained silent during the explanation, and herself. "Sign a couple papers, swear a few oaths, and you do what we do. You would become an American for all intents and purposes and you would be a part of an organization that fights for freedom and democracy around the world."
Emily raised an eyebrow at the mention of 'freedom and democracy'.
"Kind of like special forces, real cool guy military stuff. We aren't technically part of the U.S military, but we work in tandem with them. It's a warrior's lifestyle, you'd be like your sister in that sense," Angela continued.
Ichika's eyes lit up at the last part. Angela smiled, hook line and very much sinker.
"I'd like to do this," Ichika said determinedly.
"I'll warn you, I can't guarantee you will be the same person if you choose this way of life, probably forever. And if you fail to meet our expectations… you will immediately be sent to the special witness protection program."
Ichika's eyebrows scrunched up as he considered his future. He wanted to go home, he wanted to have dinner with Chifuyu-nee and laugh about the dumbest stuff. But he needed to fix the situation he was in by himself. His sister wouldn't always be there to help him, yesterday was testament to that.
He remembered asking his sister one time what a witness protection program was because he heard about it on t.v. She had told him it was like a prison in of itself and that she hoped he never had to go through anything like that.
Ichika didn't want that, he wanted freedom. If giving his all for these people who had been nothing but kind to him and their country, then he would do it. If America was his key to freedom, he would take it.
"I'll do it, I'll fight and become strong like my sister."
"I see, I suppose I should say welcome to the team then," Angela congratulated with a grin, giving Ichika a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Welcome to FOXHOUND."