Chapter 9:
Clay of a Cold Star
[Recommended Music: Reminiscence, Muv-Luv Alternative.]
The Following Morning
"I cannot answer," stone cold had been the voice, even more the glare.
Soft wind caresses the long, azure hair and refreshes the heat of the runner. In an even rhythm she remains, stuck on third place on the drill. And while the Instructor once more booms her scolding out when Tamase trips, Mitsurugi can see the tattered spin intimately join the dirt on the corner of her vision, only one thing truly is on the forefront of her mind. Of her steps, trying to catch up.
"Even if you forward the query under your House's name, my position remains the same, milady," but a simple bow she offered, still making eye contact though.
Squeezing air through the shallow throat serves little, she can only match Sakaki. Shoulder to shoulder, both seem equal on their intent yet fail to even reside on the shadow projected. Pristine he was, collected his breathing, in poker his face and further his pace. They, on the opposite side on every spectrum, sweat fusing their clothing to the skin.
And yet, and yet Mitsurugi grits her teeth, stomps her heels, curses inwards and rushes after. Under the glare of the sun, under the snare of the effort, the lack of air, the lines of burn in her limbs. All to reach that back which ahead remains.
Arms folding as she stood, as she dulled to stillness. "Curiosity is not a sin yet one must be careful with it. The answers which you seek may not be those which you would be wishing to hear. Haven't I taught you this lesson many moons ago, Meiya-sama?"
A thumbs up the Instructor gives, a towel as well, to Shirogane as he finishes his due laps. Clicking her tongue on her own, Mitsurugi had not realized he was actually ahead of them in distance ran. It is enough for her stride to lower to a tenth, sighing hard.
"Good job, Shirogane," she says, patting his back hard enough to shake him. "Listen up!" she roars, glaring at the girls. "If you do not finish your laps, I am adding three klicks to your dues!" she warns, lungs shrink and dry up, Tamase and Yoroi almost bend over and trip.
"Um, Instructor, ma'am, I do not believe it wise to-"
"Shirogane, you finished the course just fine. They do not need your pity, certainly," she says, raising her chin and chest, staring cold at him.
For a moment, when he looks away, his eyes cross paths with Mitsurugi's. The harder blizzard silenced him fully. It only made her steps regain heat, lifting sand and maintaining the top spot. Yet no little breeze douses the embers off her eyes, now dead set ahead to the sky. No soreness spreading through her legs diminishes the impulse. For her ears and mind were elsewhere, and the brightness around her only serves to wrap Mitsurugi more and more.
"…The Midnight Sun must not ever waver," was Mana's calm answer, shaking her head.
"I know, however, as I said-"
"If such trivialities are enough to distress you, whatever shall you do if and when you are required to fulfill your role?"
"That is- I am- Tsukuyomi, if you are still watching over me then you should have noticed as I did. He certainly employed our style, my eyes cast no deceit on me," Mitsurugi had insisted, complexion blazing as she stepped closer.
Firm as a tree Tsukuyomi remained, the only change was the shift of her lips as she rose a leg over another."…And what it is to you? Do you not trust my judgment? Perhaps, think me negligent enough to leave a threat near you?"
"N-No, never would I say that. I trust you with my life, Tsukuyomi. It is only curious, everything about him. I only-"
"Mitsurugi!"
"Meiya-sama, if you'd allow a word of advice?" she bowed, slow.
"Yes?"
"Whatever happens when shadows meet the sun?"
"…An eclipse?"
"Indeed. And this Empire of ours, it must never be found wanting for its light. If you aim to honor the vows you made, this road you've resolved to take then do not, under any circumstances, involve yourself with Shirogane," cutting, Mana declared with a nod, a frown.
"Mitsurugi, hey! I'm speaking to you!"
"Wait, but… If he is no threat to me then-"
"I cannot speak further. However, the shadows must not meet the sun. If you are to be that which would shine amidst the night then you must not mingle with the darkness. Not over this Shirogane, not over any of your cadet squadmates, not for anyone else."
"I… I see. Yet if I do not form bonds with my squad, how could we ever grow to the point of becoming commissioned?"
"…All I'll say is, of all the people you could ever wish to foster fellowship with, Shirogane should be the last. No, actually, he shouldn't even be on your list. I shall be looking into his particular situation, already am on it as a matter of fact. Thus, my only advice is… to stay away from that man."
"Understood… However, you do not seem to favor him much, at all. Were his answers when you spoke that very much concerning? Shirogane does not appear to be an aggressive or hateful person, all the contrary actually," she admitted, posture slumping while voicing entangled threads on the subject.
And causing a crestfallen nod, collapsing dejection the likes of which Mitsurugi had never ever seen present in Mana. "…Exactly. The shadows were not always cause for concern… and that by itself is concerning enough."
"…What?"
"You will understand, if you're ever called to action. However, that is besides the point. For the moment, I ask you would follow my-"
"MITSURUGI! You're done with the laps!"
"U-Uwah!"
Feet entangle, trip each other and send the otherwise speckless azure to cuddle with the ground, leaving a small outline of herself in sweat.
"A-Are you alright, Mitsurugi-san?" Tamase asks, stopping by to offer a hand.
Accepting it, Mitsurugi sighs and wipes her face as she stands. "Yes, thank you."
"Did you not notice the Instructor was calling for you all this time?"
"Huh? She was?" looking to a side reveals the haziness of the flames erupting from Jinguuji, causing a cold cascade to course through Mitsurugi's spine. "I-I see… I was so absorbed in my thoughts I did not hear, it seems."
Walking off the lanes while Tamase and Yoroi finish their last lap, under threats of gaining more if they take longer, Mitsurugi stops to look up, catch her breath, feel the breeze tickle the stiff strain off her muscles. And nodding down to the squint glare of Jinguuji.
"…Someone felt like showing off too, huh."
"A-Apologies, Instructor. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts," she admits, bowing down with her hands joined.
"…I see. Do not repeat such a miss, your stamina will suffer if you overwork yourself. And of course, while I welcome the rivalry, don't try to match Shirogane's numbers or you'll pay it tomorrow morning. This goes for all of you," she warns, colder, while glancing back at the other three.
Ayamine clicks her tongue, looking away. Sakaki simply nods and salutes, eyes locked up in the sky. Shirogane sighs, messing with his hair, shoulders down. Mitsurugi remains watching him as she accepts a towel, yet averts her gaze when he notices the staring. It doesn't take long for the other two to finish their runs, but it is enough for her to notice the already dry state of his clothing unlike hers and the others', which are still drenched in sweat.
"Alright, let us go to the sniping range," the Instructor says, nodding after clicking her stopwatch. "You may refresh yourselves before we continue with today's course, however," and with a simple nod, and no words of praise for the puddles Yoroi and Tamase remained as, she walks off briskly to her destination.
"Way too overkill, what the hell?" Takeru complains, sighing. "I only hope she doesn't start with any crazy trainings now…"
"…Not even taking water now, Special-kun?" Ayamine says, causing him to look back as she shakes her head, showering him in the process. She merely smirks as she pushes back the wet threads off her forehead. "May the Holy Emperor bless your endurance," she gives an extravagant bow, a hand to her heart, while rolling her eyes.
"…Ayamine, please, do not waste your breath on taunts," Sakaki comments while walking by them, tapping her glasses as she looks at Takeru. "Certainly, Shirogane spent too little energy to need anything to drink now."
"I-I mean, it is quite sunny today and it's always good to drink water while exercising," Yoroi comments, jogging to them, eyes on the ground though.
"…Yeah, I'll go for some," he whispers, nodding to Mikoto, sparing nothing to the others.
Tamase quickly steps away from her tap, offering it to him before departing as she flattens and ties her hair again. Under the quiet daylight Takeru slowly sips at the water, without pushing the tap too much. Washing off his face, making do with his rebel hair, the coldness plentiful enough to blank the heat along the inner one.
"…You truly seem to barely even falter on the runs anymore," and Mitsurugi's localized blizzard certainly is not helping.
"I just run how I run. If you had trained as I have, you'd clear this like me," he says, eyes closed as he throws his head back, hair too, and firmly squeezes the water out. When looking up, she was still there, waiting.
"…Are you saying your regime overseas was of better quality than our own?" she asks, holding his gaze as she turns and walks away, he barely tracing her steps.
"Siiigh… With enough time, anyone could run like I do."
"With time, huh… Would this-"
"No, I'm not commissioned, dammit."
"…I hadn't even finished speaking."
"I know what you were going to ask, and no, I couldn't have taken the CCSE elsewhere and I haven't cleared it yet," he protests, arms folding.
"I see… Shirogane, if I may ask, why did you return to the Empire?" she asks, halting her steps right outside the gate into the sniping range.
"Huh?"
"You said you were away, and your slang denotes you did not reside here. If so, what compelled your return?" Mitsurugi turns back, staring.
Yet he's facing down, silent. Kicking at the dirt, fingers messing with his elbows. "…I guess my wish to right my mistakes."
"…You guess?"
"Well… it's complicated, okay? I couldn't have been sent anywhere but here, that's them breaks," he shrugs, smiling wry as he overtakes her and enters the range.
The blaze in her gaze pretty much doubled in the chase of his backside.
Jinguuji blows the whistle, the line molds to straight posture, hands at the seams. She nods once at them, coughing. "Alright squad, first we'll start with rifles to standard targets. We shall proceed in order of distance, working our way up to the sniping section," she tells, they all respond with a nod. The Instructor then smirks, a minute shake appears on the cadets. "We shall begin with the 200M target and shall continue until the ones on the 1100M mark," she declares loudly, raising the dare of the sunshine's warmth.
Her cadets were northern on the weathery meter.
Sakaki is the first to break formation, giving a sharp yet minute step forward. "Instructor, we were practicing with the 850M targets as the farthest but a few days ago. Why the sudden change?"
"This is the second time you take this course, it is only obvious you'd face harsher conditions," she simply answers, narrowing her eyes, her ice.
"Ma'am, if I may, Yoroi has just returned to us. She hasn't yet-"
"That is a burden she must carry for her own carelessness," Jinguuji says, glaring to the one in question, who solidifies further into stone gray. Slowly stepping forward, the Instructor showers the gorgon over them all, one at a time, before resuming. "Failure is not tolerated in the military, cadets. It is high time you learned the price of your negligence in the prior CCSE. Everyone, to position!" she barks the order, compulsing a round of shaky salutes.
"Marimo-chan, what is wrong with you?" Shirogane wonders, finding only the glint of metal off the glare.
Meiya and Chizuru exchange a worried glance back to Mikoto, whose threads were clearly as shaky as her jelly knees. Kei just sighs very heavily, while Tamase gulps what few little colors yet remained on her complexion that then fully blanks out. Takeru taps her shoulder to give a thumbs up, she returns a robotic nod and an even more stiff smile.
All of them go to their respective positions, going prone on their preferred style, fiddling with their weapon until it fits right on their stance. A moment later as Jinguuji allows them focus, she opens a notepad then nods.
"FIRE!"
Not a second after, the roar gets submerged under the blitzing echo of shells piercing the air, hitting the target.
"Reload and aim at the next!" she drones on, without wait.
And more and more shells fly, in repetitive motions, without any emotion for the moment. Not for long.
"Mitsurugi and Ayamine, out! Reload and aim at the next target!"
One simply grips her rifle hard, looking down with tightened, closed eyes. The other curses, throwing herself at the ground.
The next objective, the 850M mark, the prior final target. Full emotion, butterflies tickling and bouncing in the stomachs, suddenly fully aware of that slow descent, gradual but then so fast, of sweat down their faces, in the corner of the noses before falling off their chins. Just a small detail, enough to make their two rifles squeal in low vibration. The opposite of their inner voices, Takeru concludes when sparing a gaze to the three of them.
"Sakaki and Yoroi, out! Aim at the next final target!"
"…Eh? Shirogane… hit the target again?" Sakaki whispers, glitching eyes unmoving, unblinking, rifle shaking doubly so.
"I-I guess he really was as good as they said…" Yoroi softly says, messing with her hair, chuckling low.
Mitsurugi utters no sound, immovable from her sitting position observing the training. Ayamine frowns and sits up too, crossing a glare that Shirogane barrel rolls away frantically.
"Well, to be fair, I am trying my best right now. I think this is as good as I'll ever get, unlike Tama who can take down a falling shuttle at cruiser speed. And I wouldn't have gotten to this level if not for her tutoring," he ponders, sighing and again feeling a small flare of pain on his arm like the prior days' practice. Rubbing it slightly, he then looks to a side while going prone.
Fingers restless, more so than her tongue scouting the rim of her lips time and again. The upper, front teeth rake in and out of the bottom lip as well, a wordless chanting on going behind the wide eyes, the slow, heavy lump of ice her gulping feels.
He, too, shares the feeling. "Sigh… Nothing I can do now. If she needs a hand, I'll be there. But for now, I'll just focus. Target locked, aiming… This should do it. Probably. I think. Wait, this is…" a moment of clarity, he gasps in, both feet tapping each other, feeling a low rumble. Takeru shrugs his lips, fuming from his nose. "This is exactly like when I was under the cliff in the tournament, aiming at the Elef. Freaking missiles got in the way, but now there's no such thing happening. Unless a meteor rain of chickens falls on the base right now or something… Well, time to see if my practice in the shooting ranges back home pays off. I never could get close to Miki, never could deliver proper sniping support when it mattered…"
"I-It buurns! S-Shirogane… Kill meee, p-please…"
"If I had been more serious about my training…"
"My unit got hit, yes, so I'm losing fuel. I won't make it back… But you two got a chance, plus you've a delivery to see to. I am six months your senior, so you must obey my orders! Leave the Captain to me! And anyways, I always wondered how would my TSF look like in Slave Mode."
"Not today… Not anymore… Never again."
"Fire!"
One last time, gutting shots run through the air. They might as well have impacted Tamase's chest, Takeru thinks when glancing at the cracks in the statue, the now obvious shaking of the rifle.
"Well, well, well. Color me surprised," Jinguuji smirks as she lowers the binoculars, chuckling a bit. "Tamase, you're out! Shirogane, congratulations."
If there was any speck of warmth granted by the daylight to the other cadets, the sweeping wind and the covering clouds up above told another tale. More when they're kept hostage within the absolute zero of their eyes when glancing his way.
Taking his binoculars and gulping, Shirogane sees his shot had landed near the outer rim of the outermost circle, almost missing. It's not due to this his heart sinks and almost halts as inner cheeks are dried far more than Tamase's collapse, because she missed entirely. She didn't even hit the target at all, not the outlined area nor the surrounding space available. Where her bullet had gone, only the winds know now.
A small sound of clapping snaps him out of phrases and suggestions from older days before a strong pat on his back almost sends him to eat dirt.
When looking back, Jinguuji gives him a shit eating grin and an even more robust nod. "Shirogane, what was that about not being confident in your sniping when you arrived? You're clearly better than Tamase! And she's a pretty good sniper, I'm sure you know."
"…No, this is as good as I'll get. I don't think I could improve much more," he admits, nodding down.
"You say that as if your level were some unacceptable garbage. What's left for Mitsurugi and Ayamine who couldn't even hit the 600M target?" she scoffs, glaring back for a moment. Both girls look to the ground, shame and frustration pouring from their eyes.
He quickly steps forward, coughing. "They just need more training. And maybe they should improve their habits a bit?"
"Habits? What do you mean?" she asks, and Takeru retells his findings on their adaption and form when compared to firing on a TSF, under the guise of the advice of 'his prior Instructor'. Jinguuji holds her chin, humming with her eyes closed for a moment, before nodding short. "…I see. That's a fine piece of advice. I'll take it into consideration for your training. Squad, I'm sure you heard him so try to put his advice to use. Maybe then you'll be able to hit stuff with your guns outside of close range," she sprays the verbal gun around, smiling small and chuckling.
"Ouch… The hell all this venom coming from? This is too much, even for her. Something's very wrong here, something's rotten here and it's definitely not my compass after being a civvy back home. Marimo-chan would never say this to us, didn't spew it at me when I actually deserved it after all," he reasons, wincing at the fading Tamase just as a sand castle under a tall wave.
After stashing the gear, a mini lecture on sniping, and a review on their prior performances too, Jinguuji dismisses the cadets not before salting the wounds even more for good measure. Seeming content with the spice, she tells them they're free until the late afternoon for a lecture after their free self-study and thus walks away.
"No advice, no encouragement… Who is this person? Is this really Marimo-chan?"
"Siiigh… To still see no progress…" Mitsurugi repines, lips shrugged as she stares at the targets.
"Come on, Meiya-san, you're doing just fine."
"So say you, yet despite being absent and injured you again surpassed mine efforts," she continues protesting, a slight puff to her cheeks.
"Well, not all of us get to be special and ace every drill thrown our way," Ayamine scoffs, openly glaring at Takeru when throwing herself to the wall.
He ignores it, patting Miki on the shoulder. "Don't get so down, Tama. I'm sure you'll get to hit the bullseye on the last target too with enough practice."
The little flower, however, could not lift itself above the rain. "…I wonder myself. Maybe I'm just not that good."
"That's not true, you're a great shooter, Tama."
"You haven't… even seen me practice much, Shirogane-san. And you're clearly better anyways, we d-don't really need two snipers on the team…"
"We do need you," Ayamine says, nodding hard as she steps towards her, glaring at Takeru. "Better to have someone that works hard, I can trust that."
"…Hey, I work hard too," he counters, folding his arm in pout.
Clearly not returned, Ayamine blazes his way. "No, you do not. You're perfect in everything. You, Special-kun, you're not like us."
"…Ayamine, don't start," Sakaki says, sagging shoulders, yet making no other sounds nor gestures.
"Look, I get you must be upset, but I only trained much to get as good as I am. That's it, there's no secret," he says, stepping forward.
Ayamine steps back, Tamase goes behind her. "No, every person has limits. And things they're bad at. You don't, Special-kun. That's not normal. Not for a cadet, anyways," she holds his gaze, flashing fangs forward.
"…Oh shit, not this again."
"Ahem… Perhaps we should simply let the argument end here? It is moot to begin casting blames," Mitsurugi proposes, slow.
"That's fair… But I got a question," Ayamine narrows her eyes at Takeru, still caustic. "Where did you learn to handle a gun as good as you do?"
Sighing and messing with his hair, Takeru just shrugs. "I mean… My skill comes from training, there's no secret to it. I simply had the luck of having great tutors," he nods, looking at the eroded shape of Tamase, who barely returns his gaze.
"…So you come from a place where this kind of expertise in ranged weaponry is the norm, huh?"
"Kei-san, please…" Yoroi asks, pulling her arm.
"Siiigh… Fine. Let's just go," she says, patting Tamase's shoulders.
"Hey, wait. I didn't mean to-"
"Shirogane," Sakaki says, slowly tapping her glasses, slower the frown, "kindly give us some space."
"But I only-"
"Why don't you go with that Yashiro for your special orders? You're going to be late, and it isn't as if you particularly care about answering what queries we wish to ask," she shrug wide, before turning away and walking away. "Yoroi, come along. We need to review some of the last material we saw."
"Huh?! Ah, uh… C-Coming!" she says, rushing away, only returning a passing nod to Takeru.
Simply standing there. Simply watching them leave. Still and frozen. Enough for a dart to hit Mitsurugi's heart, enough for her to step back and sigh, nod his way.
"Please give them some time, Shirogane. We are… understandably humbled in front of your displays."
"…I see."
"We shall be playing games tonight at the PX. I advise you to join us, perhaps the atmosphere will aid you in dispelling these doubts."
"…I see."
"…Until the lecture, then," she says, nodding, walking away. Yet looking back, at the motionless, unchanging shape which wrung his hands, looking up.
Up to the clouds, blocking all light. Only with the wind as a partner, he lays against the wall. Hitting it with the back of his head, over and over, features tight and tighter with every repetition.
"Why? Why are you being like this?"
Jokes and jabs, a comparison to an old cartoon, an inability to shoot properly or even juggle at all.
"When you surpassed me, there was no resentment. You held out your hands, helped a complete idiot get a grip in an otherwise blank world."
Slowly climbing the tallest peak which was Meiya in shogi. Learning to angle properly in marbles against Ayamine and Miki. Growing to favor the slow shuffle of his hands to make new shapes in Cat's Cradle along Sakaki, and just doing whatever chaotic idea came up in the spur of the moment with Mikoto. Then countering in all his might on last loop, on and off duty, whenever it was possible. Just for that sweet caress, the giggles and pouts, shared bets and challenges.
And the equally daring reflection of those last days back home.
"If I'm still here, it's because you took the fall for my mistakes. If I still have the will to carry on, it's thanks to all you've taught me, all you mean for me. I… I'm here to save… you?"
A blink, another, then nothing. The sun kindly showers down on him, yet he shields his sight, runs away to the shade. Knees almost buckle, so he sits and thinks. He still doesn't blink, cold hands covering his back.
"To save them? Did I? No. No, I didn't. I'm here to save my world, helping this new timeline was only a bonus on top for getting another shot at life. But they… are not my squadmates, they're not who I learned with, grew with, fought with, fell in love with, lived and, finally, even died with. They look and sound the same, but inside, for whatever the reason, something's different," he reasons, standing up.
Making his way to the PX, his complexion doesn't change. Slower than usual, skirting the walls, ignoring all around.
"I haven't acted like a brat, haven't bragged, much less tried to take advantage or made any moves on any of them. I don't know why but, if this is what they choose then, what else can I do? Guess shutting up, to not burn the bridges for the time being…"
Lining up, he looks to the table. They were all still there, casting glances, trying to ignore, growing stiff. Stiffer is he, sighing.
"…I guess this is wholly on me, for treating them as I would have my lovers and squadmates. I know they're gone, I know, I should know… I should… But I still miss that finger doing circles at me, the scuttle of whimpers as eyes almost blank out, the deadpan lines I ran into, the sober seriousness tilting the head in cute confusion, the hyper rush of words into whatever tangent came at hand."
Sudden weight returns him to reality, his tray almost slipping off his hands. Bracing and lifting it back to normal, only half the rations are in it.
"Um, this isn't the usual amount?" he asks, slow and giving a mini bow.
Receiving only more arrows to the heart. Kyozuka-san frowns, aiming the large spoon at his face. "This is all like ya get in 'ere. Shut it and get off! Sheesh, after all ya doing to the poor girls…" she says, fire to the brim.
A few snickers raise around him, venomous whispers lurk in the back, equal gazes pike at his nape.
"So you too, for some fucking reason…" inhaling sharp, he drops the tray on the wood, slowly, so slowly shaking his head. "No, it's okay… I'm fine," he says, low, swiftly turning back and leaving.
"Tch… Ungrateful yank, they're all the same," the chef protests, glaring his way before doubling the filling in his tray, handing it to the next in line.
"Fucking asshole, to refuse Kyozuka-san's cooking…"
"Wanna go have a talk with him?"
"Hey, cut it out. I heard that Russian doll is always around him…"
"…Did you hear? The yank is close to that silent maid."
"Hmph… Must be into that kinda thing, you know."
"What did we expect, to be assigned to the crazy squad?"
"Shut up, dammit! I don't wanna get the imperial dogs on my case again."
"…I mean, look who's in the team. As they say, birds of a feather…"
All the soft rice turns to rock in their throats, not even the miso can help them resume their food. And yet, leaving after their comrade does not seem to even be an available option for them at the moment. Not going by the strong grips on their chopsticks, the heavy and extended sighs.
Sadly, he's in an all too similar situation, feeling just as heavy, as empty, as gray. Pacing slowly towards nowhere, glancing out, ignoring the glares. Stopping to rest against a window, against the cracked reflection, the only thing that would spare some sympathy.
"Siiigh… When will you stop rolling me ones, causality? Just come and take away what little else is left, why don't you," he spits inside, frowning while kicking at a wall, descending the stairs, still hunching over.
Sadly, lost in the center of the bitter fog, the soldier has forgotten that it is unwise to temp the unfair mistress that is Fate.
[Recommended Music: And Love You Shall Find, Final Fantasy XIV.]
Silent was the night, the Night as well. Observing the lines of attack, replaying the march of the cavalry. Hailing banners back, relaying orders. Fire walls erupting around, above, below.
The very command read, countered. Her formation split, arrows raining everywhere she sent her soldiers to. When retreating, the flanks flooded. When raiding one, a central fort halts the advance, and so on and so forth.
Until slowly, even the Generals begin to falter, to fall.
"-and I want this to be the last time you do this, else I shall tell the Instructor about this!"
"Yeah, go and defend the fucking yank, princess."
"Could you two be quiet for a second, please?" Mitsurugi asks, tapping slowly at the board, grabbing her cup of water and even slower drinking. Making noise, for a second too long.
"I'm only warning Ayamine to not resort to violence again," Sakaki stands her ground, firing a finger to the culprit's nose.
Who shrugs, hands behind her head as she faces away. "Tch… The guy literally comes here, humbly accepts to play games, and proceeds to destroy us-"
"Best us," Mitsurugi counters.
"Destroy us, come on. I get winning the marble games, I won't claim to be that good at it. But defeating you, so easily? What else do we need to see this guy is literally able to counter everything we do?" she asks, hitting the wall.
"…I-I mean, maybe he also plays shogi a lot?" Yoroi suggests, scratching at her head.
"No, he had mentioned he hadn't played in a long time," Mitsurugi says, readjusting the board state, going over the motions in replay. "And yes, it is quite odd that he'd win five times in a row. To predict my every move…"
"He even made fun of you. Why are we putting up with this again?"
"Ayamine, even so, you cannot resort to violence!"
"Why?"
"Besides the fact that we will be punished for it?" Sakaki asks, shaking her head. "Look, I did not like his comment about 'seeing the future' but we cannot allow ourselves to fall to provocations."
"U-Um…" Tamase sharply raises from her seat, knocking down her cup in the process. A round of squeals and a sigh from Ayamine as she helps, Tamase then clears her throat. "I don't think he said anything with malice… He was only trying to clear the air?"
"Then, pray tell, why did he face me in such seriousness?" Mitsurugi asks, features tight as her hands let a piece fall off, her mind not understanding the move. "How could he see it? This is a most unorthodox move of mine, there was no reason to place his General in danger…"
"It is odd that an American would know this much of shogi tactics, however," Sakaki says, sighing and shrugging.
"Even more than Mitsurugi? Please," Ayamine scoffs, then shares the sparks flying between them.
"B-But maybe he played with someone like Meiya-san?" Yoroi suggests, tapping her fingers. "I mean, if he only got a good player to face off, then maybe…"
"Someone to play against, huh… Shirogane did say he had a partner he couldn't measure up to, now that I recall…" Mitsurugi nods, entwining her fingers, lost in the recollections of the match.
"…Even so, we should apologize. He didn't even say anything and left," Tamase whispers, standing and going to refill her water.
"…Ayamine, let's just keep it civil. The CCSE is around the corner," Sakaki asks.
"Tch… Mitsurugi, what do you think?" she asks, leaning on the table, looking at the board. Blinking, tilting her head, blanking out. "What… is that General doing leading the charge? That's not the proper formation, right?"
"Now that you mention it, it clearly isn't," Sakaki notes, arms folding, before eyes spark away as she gasp. "It's a lure… Mitsurugi always conserves her strength during the middle of the match, only to stage a clear assault. But by placing the General in this position-"
"It cuts off my lines of attack, threatens my intended formation, but would reward striking down at first glance," she says, moving her own piece as she had done to vanquish the enemy general, only for her features to combust. "However, this setback to my plan places the cavalry against the odds when advancing. The rear units can then move out, disrupting my flow," she says, quickly chaining the assault upon her own pieces. "To so easily sacrifice a General as bait, all to stall my progress with a frontal dare…"
"Wow… Was this some advanced play?" Yoroi asks, smiling a bit, not fully grasping the theory behind the shift in sides on the attacks.
"No… I've never seen this before, nor should have anyone. This tactic only works if the opponent were about to stage a board shift, and would not refuse a challenge nor risk their own units for flow," she reasons, nodding slow. "Basically, it is moot against anyone other… than me," and those that I learned from.
"…Maybe he just got lucky and read Mitsurugi was not going to back down?" Sakaki proposes, shrugging.
"Five times in a row, Squad Leader," Ayamine counters, opening a hand and almost shoving it in Sakaki's face. "One is coincidence, two is luck. But he eclipsed Mitsurugi's plans, even if her steps to get to the final push were different. You know too how hard it's to tell when she's about to pounce."
"Well, yeah…"
"…So I was eclipsed, huh."
"D-Don't take it badly, Mitsurugi-san," Tamase pleads, scuttling close, almost bowing. "I'm sure this was just a, um, coincidence. You're still a great player, Shirogane-san simply saw you stuck to your plan the first time and didn't see a reason to change his game."
"…I see," is all she gives before tidying up the board.
Young Yashiro hurries every morning, to the tick of the clock. To welcome that mellow yellow before it turns to rock.
"I'm not looking down on you, for real!"
"Cease your prattling, Shirogane. Take your form, your true form, and face me without pity. I am a warrior, and am asking such of you!" Mitsurugi declares while raising a wooden blade, blazing away despite the fully cloudy sky and windy cold.
Forced into contention, recoiling away from the heat, leaving gashes in the ground where he had stood, and even seeing threads of light filtering through the clearing in the clouds Mitsurugi slashed through.
Yet it was not a sparring, the tense posture told another tale, the blazing gaze in purple embers reveals all. Rolling to avoid a sideways slash, quickly raising to not be bonked out cold. But it hurts, not his wrists and knees under the constant sharp moves but his heart in front of the broken shards diving for his nape.
He thus lowers his blade, sighing and dropping it altogether.
"…What do you think you're doing?" she asks, not dulling her form.
"I'm going to lose if we continue to fight, I can't beat you at your best."
"I said I need no pity, Shirogane. You are not aiming for my vitals, and have not even seen enough of my style to know what's my best."
"This is enough, isn't it. I don't think I can win today, it's your point."
"…So you shame me and yourself."
"What?"
"A warrior must never falter. You would welcome the challenge and be defeated, if it came to it. Yet you refuse despite having the advantage."
"Meiya, you were about to slash an arm off me…"
"Then… why are you the one sweating the least? No, you're refusing the challenge, even when that is all I asked of you," she frowns, pulling the wooden blade under her arm. "Such vanity is treason to our styles."
"Wait, but I told you I don't want to hurt-"
"Silence, please. I do not wish to hear further excuses. You pity me, and that is all I need to know," she concludes, eyes closed as she walks away.
Entering into November, the air got chilly. The small assistant had trouble getting off the bed, from the comforting hug of Mister Bun. At least seeing the smile of the waking soldier was a comfort, being besides him in their trainings to bask in the yellow fog was nice too.
But even that began to fade.
Clicking noises overflow a small office room, the Valkyries gathered around a television. Sparks flying off while trading paint with a building, a Ravager Mk. II kept on boost jumping on screen. As a few pixelated clouds came and went up into the sepia-tinted skies, it had to fire off a few of its homing missiles to deflect the incoming assault that chased after it like cat would to a mouse.
A beeping rising in a flash, some of the enemies missiles broke through the homings. Hayase groans as a veers the analog, making the Ravager perform a tight crouch which allowed the machine to squeeze itself through a crumbled bridge, trying to do a power slide, as a few missiles missed their mark.
However, the Ravager and its operator had little to no time to relax under the few threads of light that waddled through the clouds to shine on the ruined city. Another round of missiles, another round of the beeping, which forced the boosters to activate, to dash away through the tilted buildings.
"Shit… Someone's on a bad mood today, huh," Hayase complains, clicking her tongue.
A dark silhouette stalks the very movement, always behind stalking. Getting closer with each missile wave.
Yet a smirk rises in Hayase, who presses both shoulder triggers as she did half a tilt. The Ravager jumps backwards and remains in the air, hovering over the missiles launched, flying at top speed towards the shadow.
"And now, you're done!" Quickly pressing the combination, clicking noises echoing about, Hayase's unit's proceeds to do a sharp dash, morphing into HSST-mode to try and ram itself onto the target.
And yet, a backflip leaves her out of air, slack-jawed. The metal specter seems to cackle, the two backwards scythes falling to the tumbled machine, covering it all in dark swipes and harsh ramming noises.
Piercing through its chest, oil is splattered around, pieces of metal and cables start flying about from the gaping hole left in the machine. Its wings are clipped, torn from the body, splattering sparks and fuel before catching on fire. And as the wings burn, as that mantle of fire and smokes gently falls upon Hayase's unit in the Valgern-On game, a shriek, pained and high pitched, comes from the speakers as the explosion occurs, the small detail added for when a mech is defeated with a hit to the cockpit.
Munakata had to wrestle lock Hayase before she threw the joystick flying across the room, but could not halt the waterfall of curses. Curses that the receptor could hear through the shared common line, the inner desert in his constricting throat expanding fast in Yashiro's scans.
Usually, she would busy herself with reports in early morning. Young Yashiro will then have a light snack at noon, scanning and searching that yellow fog to share images of it to her closest, and for a long time only, friend. It spurred anecdotes, images never before seen. A life, how it should be, something an eternal worker such as her would never get to enjoy.
Finding him was getting harder, sharing something almost impossible.
"Why did you hold back?" Ayamine asks, taking another step forward, almost seeing herself in his eyes. "You could have scored a shot to the bullseye if you were trying seriously."
He raises both arms, stepping back, nodding down and compacting his shoulders. "…I wasn't holding back, dude. I'm not good at zeroing a gun myself. I can assemble them easily, but adjusting them manually is not something I'm good at."
"…Shirogane-san, you almost landed a hit to the bullseye in the farthest targets," she whispers, laugh cracking as she rubs her forearm, "Come on, you can be honest with us… I-I'm not mad that you're better, so don't feel bad about this."
No Miki, I can't be as good as you. I've been trying for… I feel like Lonk on the Magorea's Mask game now, always going back in time to save the town. "I'm telling you that's not it. Sure, I can snipe, but I suck at zeroing guns myself. I ain't as good as you, Tama."
"Making excuses? Do you not feel motivated to do your best against us, perhaps?" Ayamine asks, smiling small and shrugging.
"Why don't you believe me? Just because I'm good with many things doesn't mean I'm good at everything," he protests, messing up his hair and sighing.
"Your performance has been excellent since you arrived. You were always several steps ahead of us in all you did. Why would you suddenly shoot like shit?"
Because I'm tired and having horrible nightmares? Because your attitude is making me really sad? Not like I can be honest with you. "…You know I have my special tasks with Kasumi, and I also get tired. I'm a human too. I have peaks and valleys."
"But you have showed us your aim is much better than that. And you don't look sleep deprived, your movements do not denote exhaustion."
"Is it that hard to get that I'm not that good at zeroing a gun? Really, that's all there is to this!" he complains, rolling his eyes, throwing both arms to up to the air.
"…Not good at?" Ayamine frowns, one of her brows twitches as her lips regress. "You're not fooling anyone, Special-kun."
"It's not a lie. Put Tama against me and she'll do better on average," he nods fast and sharp, smiling down to Miki.
Who stiffens, takes a step back, looks away. "T-That's not true… I am not as good…"
"Come on, no need to get nervous. We're all getting better together, it's a matter of-"
"You're already good, Special-kun," she scoffs, placing herself between him and Tamase, resting a hand on her shoulder. "And if you'd kindly excuse us, we have our way of doing things. Stop holding back, Tamase doesn't need your 'mercy'. She is better than you, you'll see," she warns, gritting her teeth, turning back and slowly pushing the small one to the base.
"Hey, wait a sec! I wasn't making fun of her. I'm sorry, can we- Ugh!" falling back, holding his nose and feeling liquid warmth, Takeru stumbles to the ground. When looking up, he sees a few shocked gazes nearby, but a pair of ice spears lunging for him in a battle ready pose.
"…Touch me one more time. Come on, Shirogane. Try your luck, see what happens."
Quick stomping grows closer, along the low grumbling voice of Sakaki. "Hey, what's going- Shirogane! Your nose is bleeding! Ayamine… There better be a damn good reason for this," she threatens, fists shaking as she steps closer, helping Shirogane up.
"Cadet Shirogane tried to grab my shoulder quite forcefully, so I defended myself."
"I was just trying to apologize! Seriously, what the hell is wrong with all of you?!"
"That's enough. Ayamine, two laps on the track field. We're going to have a small talk before the lecture. Shirogane, go to the infirmary and get something to stop the bleeding. I expect you two to be on your best behavior for the rest of the day, you hear me?!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Ayamine darts away, not even looking back or saying anything to him, but taking care to flip the bird at Sakaki. Jinguuji shakes her head, ordering the rest to resume their return to the classroom before following Ayamine.
Standing up, still clutching a hand to the running tap his nose was, Takeru coughs and spits. Speeding up a bit, he reaches the doorway.
"Hey Tama, do you know why Ayamine was so mad? I really am not-"
"You already know, don't you?" Sakaki says from behind, before tackling him to get to Tamase. "Stop pretending already, you can tell how she feels."
"Sakaki-san, I really am not bothered by-"
"Your results beg to differ. And, as the leader, this is my miss," she says, before glaring at Shirogane, colder than the wind, the hands piercing his backside. "Letting you poison the squad is my miss."
"B-But I am not dissing you guys!"
"What on Earth is 'dissing'?"
"I mean, it's, like, insulting. I'm not attacking you, I know how good Miki is. She is better than-"
"First of all, you are no one to use her name," a finger raises, aiming at his neck, pushing it back. "Second, you have no idea how talented she is, you barely even know us. And third, your constant patronizing is the biggest insult you could give. Do us a 'solid' and 'chill out' all by yourself, 'dude'. Come on Tamase, let's go," she hurries, entering the base.
Mitsurugi and Yoroi move past the frozen Takeru, who simply remains there, hanging his head. A few droplets fall to the ground then, not all are coming from his nose.
The nightly runs were something that always had cheered him, young Yashiro knew. Their duties with the games he so much loved or in the sims to polish the XM3 brought back the yellow, even if along undertones of red and blue. When it was just the two of them, he would share anecdotes, funny bets, crazy moments in the arcade, in his house with different games he challenged Sumika to, as his sole bastion of defense in front of her grades in math and history and her cooking too.
That, too, slowly begins to dull in her nightly scans.
"-with all due respect," stopping for a moment, dousing the fire she was breathing, Michiru then coughed to other side of the line through her speaker, "such sharp, drastic movements would only worsen our performance. We are required to be the spearhead of the Project, as you should be aware. Employing newer, untested tactics will only make it more difficult for us to complete our mission, which is why we stick to strategies we know are successful. Furthermore, the risks of losing units by employing such… reckless piloting as you did during our battle is decidedly high. Not to mention, the tear such approaches would leave on our machines could backfire on the field, rendering a TSF unusable or putting the pilot at risk should a limb cease to work properly due to the abuse. Basing our trainings on methods proved through years of experience is what I believe is best for my crew."
Groaning a bit, coughing too, Takeru tightens his hold, recalling their talks, before checking the voice distortion was still on before replying. "Ma'am, you're fighting with the ways of yesterday, when you should be adapting to the strategies of tomorrow. You're going to get blindsided if you don't even take a few training sessions to try out new things," he nods to himself, clear and resolute, also truthful. "I understand your duty as the leader of the STF requires you to look after the safety of your crew and the success of your mission, however, there is much to be gained were you willing to truly break the conventions you're being chained by."
"…Chained?" Michiru couldn't help but to raise her voice a bit as she frowned, enough for the rest in their usual training room with the new gear to hear her well. "I do not find the tactics available limiting in any way. There is no need to resort to such endangering maneuvers when the ironed out patters already benefit much from the XM3. You speak as if you… had plentiful experience in the field. Yet, if you did, I believe you wouldn't be casting such doubts towards the protocols crafted with the sweat of many through decades of warfare."
His eyes squinted, inhaling sharply, softly clawing at the cushioning around him. "Putting the protocols you were taught with atop a pedestal will only narrow your field of view, when you should be seeking new alternatives to turn the tide of this endless battle, to prevent more sacrifices. And… In a way, you could say I have many lives worth of experience, yes," he counters, fully red. "Which is why I believe newer tactics are required. As we are, we will end up extending the stalemate and losing this war. So, with all due respect, I believe our duty to the people is more important than safeguarding the 'honor' of these protocols you're clinging onto, Captain, ma'am."
Yashiro pulls his sleeve, staring in worry at the darkening hue of his aura, at the thickening fog that surrounds his body. He then smiles, petting her head and relaxing back to diluted yellow to not burden his psydekick of a bunny.
"…And I can prove this to you, ma'am. Not only in these small simulator units, but in a real sim as well."
"Oho… Are you challenging my unit once again?"
"It's a mutual training, ma'am. If you can grow to see all the benefits of the XM3 through this, then all the better. I know the OS lacks actual results in the field, so allow me to demonstrate the bone of my words," he cheers, nodding upwards to the ceiling.
Receiving only further cold groans, another scoff. "…I see. Then, I shall arrange it immediately. If you fail, however, we shall be continue to train with this Valgern-On program, my way."
"…Understood, ma'am. I'll be looking forward to sparring with you all again," he says, nodding slow.
Yet the connection had been dropped already.
Under the cover of the assistant, after a small round of calls to the XO, the simulation room was deemed too small and dangerous. So instead through the JIVES would the mission be handled. Back to the prior hangar, to the black Gekishin he had piloted before. Just he and the assistant in the large, hollow steel cage.
"Don't worry, I'll operate for you," young Yashiro says, grabbing a headset from the nearby supply locker.
"Thanks, little bun. Wish me luck!" he says, activating the pulley.
Vrooms and lights come to life, soon after the virtual vistas spread away. Along rambunctious shouts, that is.
"Hey, Eight! Time for some payback!"
"This time she's eating cat shit, definitely!"
"You tell her, Senpai!"
"Tamano, Daikuuji, can't you keep your poise for one single mission?"
"Well, it's the Hayase effect. Bet they're also getting all damp down the-"
"Munakata, shut your trap before I shut it for you!"
"So… basically what we do every night as you fill up my cockpit?"
"Wait, what?! Hayase, you're doing Munakata?!"
"N-No! Dammit, this is why I hate training with you!"
"Oh, come on, just accept our love!"
"Get back on track and off the crack! Kazama, support!"
"Yes, yes… Siiigh…"
"As crazy as always, huh…" Takeru smiles, chuckling at the chaos in the common channel, thankful the voice distortion worked, and that he wasn't the target for Munakata's taunts today. And with a slow push onto the pedal, as Haruka tells the winning condition and limitations of the training for protocol, his virtual machine takes off with Takeru humming, slowly headbanging to the tune he was playing to in his game. "…This is my life, a survival that knows no end."
With a precise combo, the dark Gekishin did a few zigzags around the tumbled obelisks and pillars, dodging fire without receiving a mere scratch. Confirming the lock, he dashes forward, spinning as it flew NOE, tearing everything apart in its stride.
The obelisks cracked and began to fall further, some of the cars were crushed. The small lights of the still working posts broke off as if a thunderbolt had fallen right on them. And the smoke, the smoke and fire keeps on raising from the exploding remains of the two poor Gekishins of the Valkyries that ran into him first, both defeated by the spinning combination in the blink of an eye, pierced by a cannon ball and torn apart into a pixelated mess.
"…Huh? Did… Did they just knock two of ours with one move?" Michiru blinks, lips parting on their own as Haruka nods slow, scratching a cheek.
"Takeru-san, what did you say?" young Yashiro asks, tilting her head as she sits down and lifts the chair to see the monitors properly from her small room.
"Oh, I'm singing the intro song of the Skull Kaizer. In the last stage, instead of one of the default songs you get to hear a unique song as you fight the last boss, " he says, waving a finger, nodding much while barrel rolling away from a few missiles. "And, guess what? The song is made by no one other than JellyProjection!"
"…And who is that?" she protests, upset that he teases the question despite knowing that she, in fact, did not know.
The shiny yellow quickly spreads on him, and is enough of a reward. "The band that makes the most badass and awesome mecha anime openings, Kasumi! I think Valgern-On's devs had to lease their houses just to get them to make some songs for the game. There was even an anime coming out in a few months back home." And I'll never get to see it… Fuck you, causality. Just fuck you.
"I see… But why are you singing? You're in the middle of a fight."
"What do you mean, why? It's fun, singing along the openings. And one does not just fight without them beats," he states with repeated, solemn nods. She narrows her eyes, not understanding.
Lifts and supply crates in abundant quantities, the virtual scene reveals the inner side of a base. Both an inner hangar and an overhead platform available, Takeru recognized the mission as an advanced one to halt the BETA from taking over. And yet, his spinning over the air does not stop.
Again, the Valkyries were left in offside at the antics their radars could not track. Immediately blasting the missiles upon the dark knight, limiting its escape routes, trying to drive it towards a corner of the map. Young Yashiro held her dress tightly, lips regressing into her mouth as she wondered how could Takeru clear the aggro of the interceptors. Equally expectant were the Valkyries, who already were thinking on his defeat.
Yet, they clearly underestimate the dexterity of the soldier.
Bursting into a sudden jump, Takeru flies towards the platform up above. He chuckles, swaying his head as if lightly headbanging to the tune. Reaching the high area is impossible without using the lifts, yet that was not necessary for him. Under the platform, the missiles of those above it were unable to reach him. And since he was already flying up… he didn't need to aim elsewhere.
"…A script that has only anxiety and dread in stock." he slowly starts, only a whisper.
Quickly flickering the trigger, he starts firing 120mm canisters, tearing the platform as if it were a paper put atop a candle. The female duo falls prey to the attack, one losing an arm, the other a leg. Inevitably, both machines also are pulled down to the ground as the platform crumbles after the damage. Diving head first and firing off their guns erratically, they end up crashing. And as they fumbled about, trying to stand, a shadow is cast over them. A dark twister envelops the surrounding area, a blurry gale of sharp metal which sends both units recoiling back, blasted away against the supply crates which end up flying about like the winning ball of a baseball game.
"What… How did he finish off both of Takahara and Asakura in such short a time?" Michiru gapes at the pincushion both machines had become, as if they had given a hug to a bunch of Grapplers. It's similar enough to cast the gale of this night to a dance with her nape.
Short of stopping, the Gekishin goes crazy with the zigzags over and over, looming, gliding like a bat for a moment, charging for the enemy's neck at the other. Barely using his guns to force the rest of the fresh Valkyries to halt their own fire, the twister of blades approaches in style. Caught in the stride, lifted off the ground, only the fire of the forced death animation remains after the fact.
"…I wonder, where is our burnt and wounded present heading to?" smiling, his voice raises as he starts headbanging softly.
Bunny ears pointing to the sky, mouths remaining open, eyes unmoving from the erratic and dazzling camera that followed the dark knight. Coming out of the base, right behind the main gate another ambush awaits. Missiles and snipers at the ready, wasting not a second when they catch a glimpse of the dark steel.
"She may have taken us by surprise but against the seniors there's nothing-" Michiru swallows her own words under her breath as an explosion rings out. "They scored another kill?!"
Mechanical limbs fly about, head visors are sunk in. Boost units leave the remains charred, the buildings too. But the tornado remains dodging all fire, its spinning and long dashes forcing the enemy to spray and pray, wait for the snipe. Sadly, the soldier already had a solution for that.
"In the end, will everything sink within the rising fear and paranoia?" he keeps singing, now moving his knees along the tune.
Like a tumbleweed rolling under a sandstorm, crouch cancel after dash cancel. Spinning and spinning, altering its speed, its trajectory. Sliding, skiing over the windows and glass flying about, the shadow squeezes past the vanguard. Much as he had done in his first loops to hunt Tamase when along two dragons, Takeru starts using his own guns to shoot down the incoming homings, to sail the enemies' stride to the center of the map. To the trap where he can dash in for the kill.
"It is now time for action and not words," Slightly moving his chin, as if he actually had a mic nearby, the soldier quickly pressed the buttons to continue on, "for a small glimmer of hope is shining through."
The pylon guns intercept the ones which thought to take the reign he had over the skies, those who were foolish enough to try and pierce the veil found the end of the scythes buried deep into their frames. In one burst of speed, of reflected light in a kaleidoscope from all the glass coursing through the virtual air, the ambushers were cleared.. And without exception, the Valkyries were simply staring in amazement while he and the bunny shared a smile.
"To inherit the fire of the fallen star…" he grins, pressing his fingers onto the analogs, only a few well timed inputs on his end.
The final members approach his position, circling and readying their boosters in utmost silence on the map. Michiru thought this quietness would serve as a deterrent, yet found herself gasping as the dark Gekishin blasted the accel, approaching them with minimal intel. And her grasp on her cup slip, falling down, forcing her to bend over to avoid the water to be spilled.
"…that burns within the shadows," he chuckles, enjoying the rocking of the cockpit, closing his eyes even.
When she looked up, half of her troop were left on the ground as the camera kept tilting, changing orientation, flickering along his dashes. Throwing them off balance with random kicks and boosts, the reverse grip stance ensured the sharp end of his blades had an intimate encounter with the cockpit of his enemies.
"When you release the anxiety that's welling up within your cries-" Closing his eyes for a moment, his training with Maya, his talks with his world's Yuuko, his talks by the tree with the memento he shared with his squadmates of another world came up.
"Are you kidding me?" Michiru spat out, blazing after her target, ignored for another pair of clipped wings. "What kind of…"
"Come on, ma'am," Haruka tried to laugh it off, shrugging and sighing her own surprise and shock away. "Mitsuki told me they faced against similar odds last time you fought a week ago, right?" she gives a small smile, patting her Captain's side. Her face tightened when she realized Isumi was shaking. "Captain?"
"…He's holding back. These numbers, they're lower than our previous sparring."
Quite the fair shock, you'd understand, she were feeling at the results despite the strain of their eyes like little kids trying to stay awake past eight pm to watch their favorite shows. And as Yashiro huddled into herself on her lone chair in a desolate hangar, trying to pay utmost detail to his performance, she couldn't help but to stare as a yellow tint enveloped the Gekishin's cockpit. Takeru, who now smiled honestly as he had done in his first days in this world, readjusts his grip on the controls, leaning forward.
Images of him playing in an odd location filled with what seemed like TSF sims to her, of two of his squadmates and Sumika, of another moment with him and the flattest one sharing food as they talked excitedly, and other, more blurry, images of him taking the mean and insistent squadmate to the same place filled with simulators, entering into the sim with her to spar against Sumika and one of his friends. Yashiro couldn't help but to also smile, feel her fingers move on their own to mimic his button presses, as she stares away from him and back to the screen, back to the valiant shadow which braved the assault of six Valkyries all by itself.
And smirking much, eyes blazing, his voice surges from his stomach as his grip on the joystick tightens. "-then it is when you'll be ready, to reclaim our blue ski-i-ieeees!"
"Takeru-san, don't raise your voice. Your shouting out of tu-"
So, he pushes the controls forward. And as wide as the eyes of the Valkyries is his smirk as his virtual TSF thrusts his arms back, raising the scythes, pouncing upon the Valkyries in a reversal of roles.
"Turn into an accursed fiend so that you can brave-"
Mincemeat, the first one. A mirage, was the specter that preyed upon them. The only thing that contested the repeated jet engine noises coming from the chained boosts and backflips was the completely out of tune voice of the soldier, who simply forgets he's training and chooses to recall older days. When he had people he could actually count on by his side.
"-the ruinous day that lays ahead!"
Too loud for young Yashiro's ear was the horrible singing, even louder the shrieks of some insult about cat shit or the other as two Valkyries have their wings clipped. The assistant's cheer was very modest, yet I suppose you can already imagine the ruckus that was ongoing in Michiru's head. More did it increase when the speed is amped up, recordings on the monitors showing seriousness.
But so relaxed Takeru is that he keeps on singing out of tune, headbanging to the BGM he replays on his mind, "Even if the path you attempt to waaalk-" And as he did when supporting the XG, he dashed about in between the blasts and carnage, giving his machine small scars similar to those he has in his back, "-leads only to your downfaaall!"
The vortex kept swallowing bricks and cars, the Valkyries left with little choice but to try and snipe him without shock countermeasures to tumble him. Unseen, unheard, unnamed, undefeated, only a single unit pushes them back with the fire of war as its cloak. Holes plunged into their formations, the cannon ball kept rebounding off and off, diving from the skies to meet the aggro of the tide of enemies.
Yet, little does he care. It isn't anything he hasn't done before, as you'd understand.
All the while, he remains smiling as he headbangs, "Because an accursed fiend never ceases to retaliate," Suffering damage for the first time, the vibration of the controller only enlarges his smile, reminding him of his games in the arcade. One of his eyes waters, his voice hoarse as he keeps on singing, a needle in his heart as the once pleasant memories turn sorrowful, "even as it descends to hell aaall by its lonesome!"
While Isumi was silenced, petrified as they watched, while young Yashiro slowly moved her head sideways to meet the tune, even if she was pouting at the words, he grimaced as the fight is met, as they cross strikes, as it reminds him of the tournament of Valgern-On.
A round of ice cream he could not enjoy, a friend he could not protect. Veiling the angst that he had felt for the better part of the day, inhaling sharply, he decided to redo that match. In honor of that friend, his cannon shots became all the more accurate.
And dashing above the rifles, he rose in rebellion, ready to rend their steel apart in a rhythm, a dance, a pace like that of an orchestra of veterans who played by ear after years of tours together. That is how his rising flying Michiru sees, despite the fact that he is still merely playing around, even if the vicegrip on his controls does tell Takeru is doing some manner of catharsis by proxy as he did when regaining his memories.
"You're the only one who can illuminate…"
Soaring high, silently sinking into a slicing stance with both scythes seeking slaughter.
"…this enthralling darkness…"
And in the middle of the twister, in the eye of the storm, the meteor rain that were his cannon shots fell upon the virtual enemy before the hurricane he had become ravished whoever had survived, as he had done in a time he did not recall, when alone he was during Iceberg.
So, it is understandable, I believe, that upon that hazy memory resurfacing… he'd choose to mix it, to dull his grief with his emotion, with days of happiness as he screams the finisher when his Gekishin dives in for the kill. As he had done who knows how many loops ago, before becoming a shadow.
"KA-I-ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!"
A/N: And today I said fuck it, here goes all the chapter in one go, no editing no doubts we balling.
Now my eyes burn and I emptied my liquor. Was very worth tho
So I've some comments about this chapter and the whole distrust paranoia arc. You may ignore the wall of text down there if you don't wanna read through my closing thoughts right before hitting the save and uploading this doc.
I know my portrayal of the characters strays from canon and many don't like it, some outright hate it even. As I noted on my old fic, the point I set out to clear is to challenge each and every character. It's why originally the CCSE was as it was, I wrote with the intention of making something happen to both keep readers engaged and bring tension to the plot instead of just skipping it. I chose to take every chance I got to squeeze problems for the cast, at first just to have cool or interesting interactions and later on to work towards the arc I eventually settled on for each.
This is very important for the character of Meiya, that I know many, many people do not like how I write and made sure I knew how much they did not like it. Full disclosure, it's the main reason why I blocked DMs after one certain shitshow incident thanks to one of my final chapters before I deleted, damn the backstabbing kiwi never eating those again while I write.
Anyways, let me ask you a few questions.
What would Meiya do in front of a ruthless murderer?
What if this murderer held her people hostage?
What if this murdered represented all the negative traits the Japanese military once was branded with?
And what if this murderer's goal was, in fact, to the benefit of the Heavenly Empire of Japan and she knew it?
While light and darkness are two sides of the same coin, they are at the end of the day sides of the coin. They never meet. There is no middle ground.
However, Meiya is not the Sun. But she is not the darkness either. I am too tired right now to open the codex but I remember Kouki saying somewhere about how Meiya was meant to be 'Japan' and it's why she's so over the top with the samurai and the nobility and junk. In the original trilogy, Meiya harbors all the positive aspects one could think of Japan. The meditation, the temperance, the resolve, the honor, the humility, the self-sacrifice. Meiya is almost more of an ideal than a person, kind of like Link from Zelda. She's the hero character, the last figment of light in front of certain ruin.
…Aaand now that's another idea for a fic: The Legend of Meiya!
Anyways, back on track and off the crack.
'Japan' is a whole coin. And if Meiya is to be the Midnight Sun, that which shines within the darkness, then she must be made to face it first. And it would be easy, so so easy to make the darkness evil and bad and the enemy. A thing to defeat.
Time has given me perspective and, well, time to recover from an accident that very literally took my lights out during the pandemic. A part of me has not been able to bury them yet. If you were following my old fic back then, I'm sure you noticed a sharp shift from the still positive and funny but serious Reversal to a properly dark tone no cards held. That accident is also something that made Meiya in her TDA incarnation hard to accept for me given the context.
So all this to say there's a reason behind Meiya and the others growing as cold as they do in this chapter and will continue to going forward, all to do with my own opinion of TDA which I know is controversial and has been called shit and many other negative adjectives. And I plan to stick to it. Sorry to those who are hoping to read Meiya badassery or fluffy funny moments between her and Keru, but this is not going to be only that.
You can blame this stubbornness for dark angsty shit to my brief efforts to write for Azur-Lane. I hit a realization then that Enty was just a bow-wielding American version of Meiya, and the outlining of her character arc only served to ignite my wish to make a better Meiya and overlapped at times with the plans for the Meiya of said fic. So you could say there is a Midway coming, even if there's a fair amount of differences between both series and that Meiya has no META to contrast with.
…Or does she? VSauce theme fades in
For the few surviving readers who know what's my favorite scene in the trilogy, it may take me a while to get back to Komoro for the payoff but the knot that requires this early distrust arc is going to be untied there for all the girls but especially Meiya. Tu fui; Ego eris. Honestly blame most of the incoming new dark content on Azur-Lane and the research of WWII I had to do for the fic. Or just go listen to the lyrics of the song Everything Burns that I chose for the end of the prelude for this final Reversal which was meant to be Enty's Midway song.
Sorry, I'm ranting and rambling. Ramntbling if you'd allow. I know the uploads are slow sorry about that. Won't make promises to make it faster tho sky's gonna come down if I do always happens.
Thanks for reading and stay safe over there
Zuoriel