Chapter 6:
Linking Desire
Around the same time
[Recommended Music: Yearnings of the Wind, Chrono Trigger.]
"You didn't have to be so rude, you know?" Takeru complains as swipes his ID across the reader, as they cross a locked door.
Young Yashiro looks away, feet dragging onto the shiny hallway. "She was interfering."
Don't give me the puppy eyes, come on now. "Why were you so mean towards Meiya, anyways?"
"She did not possess a reason to meddle. Unable to explain the Professor's orders to her, all I am allowed to do is refuse an answer and ask you to come with me."
"Yeah, but you treated her as if she were a carrot."
"…Takeru-san, I wouldn't eat Mitsurugi-san."
"I mean, you don't eat your carrots so that checks out, I guess," he nods, her pout takes off. "There was no real reason then?"
She shakes her head, apathetically. "I've orders to fulfill. The aura indicated a negative response to my presence, her tense posture hinted at the same. Thus I spoke minimally. She seems to be very stubborn."
"That she is, yeah. So, what's up tonight? Another round of games?"
"The Professor didn't say," she says as they approach the end of the hallway, slowly knocking onto the door.
"By the way… Does Sensei always lock her door like this?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"It's just, she never did in my previous loops," he says, looking at the bunny, who merely returns his stare in poker before the ding of the door beeps.
Surfing through the books and paper towers, the soldier and the assistant reach the sofas. And there they find the complete collapse under the lab coat.
"…I'd say good evening, but it doesn't look like this is a good one," Takeru nods to himself, taking a step forward to the sofas, looking at the TV nearby. "Huh, so you made it to stage ten on your own. What do you think, Sensei?"
"This is the biggest let down of my entire life."
"For real?"
"Of course!" the collapsed sand picks up to a twister, blazes more red than her eyes in every word. "Zero out of ten! This is simply asinine!"
"…This game sucks," young Yashiro lends a supporting nod, pouting at the looping game over tune in the TV.
"Sensei, we went over this yesterday," he slowly starts, facepalming. "You gotta manage your time to maximize the relationship points across all the squad."
"But all the characters start losing their shit by the conference mission anyways. I've managed troops, Shirogane, and they are not this fickle."
"I mean, it is sci-fi. If you want it to be hyper realistic, that's your B."
She pinches her nose, hard. "Could you for the love of God please stop using your random phrases?"
"…No, sorry. Should I take over?" he asks, sitting down and grabbing the joystick.
That is promptly snatched off his paws. "In your dreams. I still haven't given up," Yuuko nods, he shrugs, so she sits down as Yashiro huddles closer to their sofa. "So, am I doing something wrong or what?"
"I told you, the third game is literally a mirror to my loops. The guy is basically me, having to remember what he lived through to reach the 'perfect mission plan'. The more routes you play, the easier the game gets," he nods as she reloads the file, showing off her current mech and status screen. Takeru covers his mouth as he snickers, rolling his eyes for a sec. "Aaand you skipped parts again, like back home. Go figure. No wonder you're having a hard time, dude, you're only level twenty."
"Is it imperative I play the prequels?" she asks, starting the mission again, fingers already dancing onto the joystick.
"You don't have to, honestly. If this and Valgern-On let you see what I wanna do with the XM3 without getting to the endings, that's enough," he shrugs, nodding at some good dodges in narrow corridors.
Scoffing and ruffling her hair, Yuuko frowns a bit. "I see… Honestly, I have trouble imagining this to be your end game. Do you truly expect me to believe you can fight off a dozen of Fort-Class like in this game?"
"I mean, I did once. Or twice, maybe."
The wind inside her dies down, her hands freeze. The machine on screen is rammed on all fronts by Destroyers, the game over chorus rings out again. In slow motion Kouzuki flops back to the sofa, like a fish out of the water. Eyes dilating, unblinking as she stares at nothing.
"Uh, Sensei?"
"You… are not kidding me, are you?"
"Nope. I did say I was awesome."
"…You can truly face such a large number of Forts, by yourself?" she asks, low, clutching her knees as she regains her posture, the usual frosting gaze.
"Sigh… If left with no other choice. Why do you think I wanna speed up the XM3 this time? By myself it's a gamble, with a squad it's a guarantee," he says, holding the blizzard off.
"…Prove it," the XO demands, offering the joystick.
"On one condition?" he asks, grabbing and swirling the controller in the air.
"I'm listening."
"If I clear this, can you soften the Instructor's course just a bit? I think the girls are gonna get overwhelmed pretty soon."
"Really? Marimo said they were making stellar progress, however?"
"I mean, yeah, but they're barely keeping up. I tried lending them some tips but, well-"
"Your performance bothers them, hmm. Fine, I'll see what I can do. Assuming you can clear the mission, that is," she throws, smiling as a finger taps her chin.
"Sensei, I'm better at games than at piloting, you know? No G-Forces to follow after all," Takeru puffs his chest, smiling as he blitzes through the menus.
Kouzuki remains silent, folding her arms and leaning back comfortably. And so she is for the duration of the game in question, completely still even as her lips part a bit upon the hounding of ice and towers, the domino effect splintering the white desert of stage ten in twain. Blown away along the blizzard, the BETA's giblets pixelated to nothingness amidst the few dark clouds on screen, unable to stop the central twister. Those two jump units that just kept on spinning and spinning. Additional slashes and stances for style points were so frequently repeated to the laughs of the soldier that even young Yashiro began to feel pity for the virtual aliens.
"…Is your piloting always this aggressive, Shirogane?" Kouzuki asks as the victory fanfare plays, flattening her dress.
"Depends. I'm at my best as an attacker, but I can adjust my tempo if need be."
"…I see," she says, hands interlocking, watching the score he had earned. Eventually sighing, massaging the underside of both eyes while groggily standing up. "I think I'll stick to Normal Mode myself from now on. Can you truly replicate this on a TSF?"
"Do I gotta show you more memories?" he shrugs, furrowing brows and breaths.
"No, no, that won't be necessary. Consider your petition solved, in any case," she affirms as one eye closes, as she stretches the numbness away.
"Cool. So, you want us to go over another game tonight or?"
"I've actually an update for you," she says, nodding and going to her desk, fiddling with the computer. "The petition to mend your profiles is already sent, it's a matter of time now. Meanwhile, we shall focus on polishing the alpha version of the XM3 we've been working on this week with Yashiro."
Turning the Stallion and the TV off, Takeru then nods as he raises back. "So it's finally ready for the oven. Off to the sims, then?"
"No, actually," Yuuko says, slowly treading her mouse to turn off the laptop, "I think it's time to put your awesome abilities to the test, wouldn't you agree, mister time diver?""
"…I don't like that smile."
"Oh, shush. We have gone over the games enough times, as well as your pieces of advice. I need hard data now, and there's only one way to get it," firing a finger to his face, she smiles wider. "And so, you're going to be taking part in a mock battle, Shirogane."
"Wait, for real? Cool. When?"
"Right now."
"…Huh?"
"I've prepared a spare Gekishin unit we were refurbishing for you to use, it's already outfitted with our test version of the XM3," she nods, giving a side glance to the soldier. "You wouldn't be getting cold feet now, would you?"
"No, it's just surprising, is all. Another difference to the list, I guess. Anything else you feel like telling me?"
"I simply wish to confirm the veracity of your prior claims, is all. A simple aptitude test is all this will be, to determinate how useful your awesome piloting truly is," she dryly comments.
"Alright, alright. I'll do my best, just, don't expect the same output as the one from the memories, okay?" he asks, she returns a swift and curt nod, and after a moment of staring and daring both turn around. Almost colliding with the assistant, who remains blocking the small pathway available between the babel towers of papers. "What is it, Kasumi?"
"…It is dangerous to pilot with an untested operative system," she protests, hands joining, posture uptight.
"Don't worry, it's gonna be fine," he reassures, petting her head, bathing in yellow. "Sensei simply wants a clear test."
"You could end up injured," she insists, looking up. "You're too valuable an asset to risk your safety in this manner."
"Kasumi, I've crashed my own share of TSFs. For real, you just watch and cheer me on, okay?" he asks, a single finger drawing loose circles on the silver hills. "I know what's at stake here. Sensei wouldn't put me through this if she didn't know it's safe."
"…Your aura tells another tale."
"I… Sigh. Can't hide anything from you, haha."
"S-Sorry, it is my-"
"I know, I know. It's cool, little bun," he tells, nodding as he pets her head.
"What is Yashiro speaking about, Shirogane?"
Slowly sighing and hiding his hands on the pockets of the jacket, Takeru looks at Kouzuki, or in her direction, nodding down. "The last time I was in a cockpit, or something similar, was when I recalled most of my memories back home. Remember? The Valgern-On tournament I told you about?"
"Oh… Mmh, yes. So?"
"Well, you know, playing the games helped me recall some stuff more clearly back home with Sensei's headband and all. So-"
"What you're saying is, you may recall figments of battles of prior lives as you fight, which is why you're afraid to pilot?"
"…Kind of, yeah. Not afraid, but a bit concerned. I'll try and keep myself in check, anyways."
"I see… Well, don't worry, you'll be facing off against machines in slave mode. There's nothing to fear. So, let us get going," she orders, looking at both of them, at the assistant. "Yashiro, guide him to Hangar 78. Everything should be almost ready by now," Kouzuki orders, briskly moving past them. "I'll be waiting on the Command Post for the mission."
Young Yashiro merely nods back, stepping away from the march of the scientist. "…Understood."
"Siiigh… Always marching to her own tune, huh. Well, let's get going, Kasumi," he says, offering a hand for her to not fall to the papers.
Slowly they make their way out, the speeding lab coat almost a tiny thing in the distance. Hurrying as much as the assistant's legs would allow, the two of them take on the hallway to the elevator.
"…Takeru-san?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you pilot as good as you do in the games?"
"Eh, almost. I… honestly don't know how this is gonna go." I am not the same as I was before then, yeah, but I don't know if I can safely pilot without having flashbacks, being a strengthened Nucleus.
"Are you certain of this?" she asks, staring at the shriveling clouds near his chest.
Takeru quickly chuckles, waving ahead to the scientist who waits by the elevator. "Yeah, it's okay, really. Even if I can't pull off my best moves it won't be an issue. The game is the end goal, Kasumi. Depending on what Sensei cooked up, this might be a very short test. We're ironing out the bugs, after all."
"Precisely," Kouzuki says, nodding to the duo as the door of the elevator opens, and the trio goes in. "I still am expecting an awesome performance from you, time diver."
"And that, Kasumi," he shrugs, one eye closed, "means she went all out just to shut me up."
"I think it's the other way around, however?" young Yashiro wonders, staring at both of them. At the mellow yellow, the firmly locked gray, and the small jabs shared regarding the game on the way up.
In around half an hour later, the Professor was seeing a dot slash through the radar, the traps, the lanes of the exercise clearing in almost perfect sync to each and every shot.
Sipping some coffee while sitting at large, the minute movements of the boosters, the sharp cornering, and lack of hesitation on blind charges or dives brought a smile to her face. Further did it lit up in front of the numbers obtained, and not because of the glare of the spreadsheet.
Avoiding all machineguns of paint, hitting all the targets. Losing almost no speed, blurring along the faint shade of the clouds. Salting the shadows with every whiff of the boosters, parting the targets from iron branches with minimal hustle. A calm, downstream river, the comfy resting place of a lazy leaf enjoying its time.
"…Target reached. Objective completed, starting phase two," a frail voice tells, bobbing her head.
"Thanks, Uzuki," Kouzuki nods to the operator, looking to a side and smiling. "So, thoughts?"
A grimace melts to a sigh, and then silence. "I've no words. Where did this come from, Vice Commander?"
"The future, probably."
"Please, do not joke, ma'am," Captain Isumi Michiru pleads, pinching her nose.
"Well, maybe it's the past, even."
"…Vice Commander, come on. A promising recruit, you said. Despite some odd stumbles and sudden stops, this is no greenhorn," she declares, pointing at the screen, at the spinning top sawing the air, the target circles and the broken lightposts too for good measure. "Look at- This is- I don't even know what this is!"
"It is an F-4J, Gekishin unit."
"Thanks, Yashiro," Isumi shakes her head, sighing long at the chuckles of the XO. "Seriously, how am I even supposed to take all this?"
"Simply look at what's happening, is all. Does this performance fit your request for reinforcements, Captain?"
"Frankly, I am unsure," she folds her arms, stomach heavy while admiring the zig zags. "Would you be trying to gain my approval so that this cadet skips the ladder?"
"My, no, of course not. I only want your assessment on his skills, is all. Shirogane's situation is… peculiar, as I said."
"Hmm. I see. Is he… Wait," her features tighten, drying her inner cheeks at the sounds coming through the speakers. "Is- Is he making jet engine noises?"
And in fact, he is. Vrooms, booms, pews and other laser-y exaltations Takeru gives out while surfing his Gekishin through the ruins, hitting more targets, avoiding the heat.
"Quite an eccentric cadet, isn't he," Isumi comments, shaking her head, heavily.
"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Kouzuki rolls her eyes in sympathy, going for a slow spin in the chair. Young Yashiro nods twice in agreement.
"Objectives nullified. Phase two cleared," the small voice of Uzuki tells, she slowly looks back, or rather down, at the two. "Next orders?"
Isumi coughs, nodding at the operator, straightening the neck of her dress. "I assume, then, that we may proceed to the final stage, XO?" she asks, walking closer to the controls. Kouzuki smirks and waves away, to a small shake of young Yashiro's head. "Alright, then. Uzuki, give the green light," Isumi orders, putting on a headset, tapping the mic.
"…Valkyries, do you copy?" the operator asks, slow.
"Loud and clear!" Hayase answers, chuckling in the transmission. "Should we begin our party?"
"It is a mission, ma'am… And yes, you may move out," Uzuki nods, belatedly making an OK with a hand.
"You heard the girl! Let's get this ace pilot, gals! By the way, before we start, how good would you say they are, Professor?" she asks, edging forward even if the visor won't get closer.
"Eh, an eight, give or take?" Kouzuki shrugs as if bored, looking away, smiling at the low squealing on the other end of the line.
"Now that's what I wanted to hear. Valkyries, move out!" she declares, raising a sword to the sky before blasting off.
On the Gekishin, however, a small warning alarm appears. Suddenly, the radar shows quite many enemy signals surrounding, getting closer in haste like a mosquito cloud.
"More AI-controlled machines? These numbers are kind of a good challenge… But let's keep it chill," he nods at himself, whistling the opening of some anime or the other. "Going, going, towards the light…"
Beyond the elevation in the street, trails in the sky foretell missiles. Moving to dodge reveals a rumble in the ground rising, two shadows stalking behind the buildings. Two pairs of swords almost shaving away his shoulders, the sting of their guns sprinkling his heels in oscillating braising. The heat cloaks the TSF, all the more raises the bug buzz lusting for his blood.
"Shit, I didn't think they'd move this fast, dammit."
Yet the desire to pounce on their backs is cut short along his whistling when more missiles come after him, in coordinated rounds, in too tight timing. Drenching the street in a radical mess of paint, the assault continues from all sides. Flickers of light across every shade, the visors hunger after his steps. Every dodge, what turns he tries and pull to meet their aggro are canceled by further support in each corner. Despite stomping the heels on the boosters or stretching his arms so long that his shoulders crack, the Gekishin cannot keep up, begins to lose ground. In the sameness of the ocean known as the desolate ruins, the hum of the waves begins to raise ever so slightly with the heavy rain of paint rounds.
"Come on and face us already!" Hayase yells, surfacing on a curve, missing the slash by a centimeter. "Dammit, stop running away!"
"1st Lt, that unit cannot hear your messages," Uzuki says, bobbing her head at the slack shock in the projection.
"Aw, come on! Vice Commander, requesting permission to speak with the mystery pilot!"
"Denied."
"What?! Why?"
"1st Lt Hayase," Isumi says, grimacing in warning, "do not question your superior's orders."
"Mmgh… Can they hear us through the common channel, even if they cannot reply back?"
"Well, that is acceptable, I believe," Kouzuki nods, smiling a bit. The sheer shine of Hayase misses her altogether, as she's lost examining her PDA. "So the system cannot keep up with the amount of commands he forwards… His vitals are growing a bit strained, but nothing out of the ordinary. And while indeed amazing, his piloting isn't anything revolutionary, no."
That lone, black and gray Gekishin begins to trade paint with the bricks, tackling the edge of buildings just to escape the paint waves sent his way. Breathing in dissonant chords and turns, like his boosters in spin, a subtle shaking pikes at his hands when forcing himself to parry each slash frontally. His gut sinks as the splashes ram at his chin, the chilly air seems to pierce the steel and lets all the bugs stab at Takeru.
"These are no AIs. Sensei, you devil, these are the Valkyries, aren't they?"
Crushing the metal to overpower one of the many blue Gekishins that lust for his blood, only to have to stop, preventing an overload, and having to raise the shield to not be beheaded by the vulture-dive that preys upon him, internal screaming becomes external for a sec.
"Finally got to you, Eight!" Hayase cheers, locking onto the enemy and beginning a dance of parries as paint torches brush abstraction all over the street. "Why don't you show us how special you are, to be made into our rival?"
"Hayase of all people, dammit. Oh, no, here comes the pain rain…"
Catapults of 120mm worth of paint follow his boosters, flying in arpeggiated progression. The gun parade is underlined by more swords, edging closer to try and smack at him. Elegant the rhythm above tickling clouds, rustic the one below shaving concrete.
And experimental to the brim, the hops and twists through buildings, into them too, in avoidance of the Gekishin that doesn't wanna cuddle this canvas.
"Did this… Did that shitty Gekishin just move while tumbling?!"
"Yes, Senpai! My shots missed their mark, they spun in midair while falling!"
"Piece o' shit! Let's see how you like- Again?! What kind of trick was that?! Oi, Hayase, you saw that? Hey, are you listening?!"
Sadly, the only answer from that line was a never ending squealing, not halting the chase after the trails of steel.
"Daikuuji, leave her be. You know how she gets when motivated."
"Shut it, Munakata! I'm the one who has to keep up with the mad boosting. And that thing just did a tuck and roll, in the air! It should have frozen the hell up!"
"Yes, Senpai is right. This is hella strange!"
"Siiigh… It wouldn't be a challenge otherwise. Come on, divert the target to us. That goes for you too, Hayase!"
"Oh, don't mind me! I'm- huff- having some fun!"
"More like getting wet."
"Wh- Ahh!"
Bricks, to the face. Red pops up and dings, her own Gekishin frozen in shock protection. Controls, more constricted than her throat. No paint had landed on her frame, but she sports such a lavish radical red.
"Mu-na-ka-taaa…."
"Oh, did I hit the mark? Ehehe… Next time, don't run away on your own. Sharing is caring, you know?"
"Fine, ruin my fun. Daikuuji, Tamano, you were right, though. There is something wrong with the dodging going on."
"Any bright ideas, Miss Storm Vanguard One? Other than have us fighting like cat shit?"
"Well, you could get better, for starters."
"What was that, you little-"
"S-Senpai, she's kidding!"
"Anyways, Valkyries! We're against an irregular here. Let's assume tactic Siege Three! Let's bring this eight down to zero!" she roars, receiving a mirror of the sudden, harsh brush of colors shining through her.
The parade turns into a full blown festival. In open bloom, the whole wheel of colors decorates the otherwise blank night. Many swirling colors Shirogane sees, to the point his stomach is sick.
In spin when curving behind a building, the other end of the road also filled with red marks.
When taking the reins of the sky, forced to give it away and claw his way down a skyscraper back to the ground.
No erratic zigs work nor do the eccentric zags, his tempo hits and swallows a snag in the marshal arpeggios, the snare of the siege.
All the while, those dissonant chord breakers wham their bars his way, sparing no windows nor lightposts. In contrast to the vanguards of the day, his piloting seems conservative and meek. Seems someone unchained the muzzle and let go of the leash, for the hounds are hunting.
Firing off freely to deter said starving fangs when taking a turn, Takeru's breath goes back the way it came. In front of him there's three Gekishins, all aiming at him.
Cursing at full volume, his machine stalls, trips, somehow dodges the paint, retracing his steps and ricocheting the pilot all over the cockpit. And again, when Hayase dives for his nape along two other vanguards. And again, and again, hands stiffening under the constant circling of the controls, wrists wailing.
It is such a familiar feeling, isn't it, this gradual yet constant pain. Slow, distant, just as lying above embers.
"Sorry, but we've no reinforcements to send. You must hold your ground until HQ sends Code 666."
It hurts, each slam against the armrest, each tide of tension running into the machine with the parries. Like when starting the loops, attempting many actions at once tilts the Gekishin, freezing it mid-motion.
"This is the nature of the military."
Through a building smacked after the shield barely raises to halt Hayase's homerun slash and scream. Ricocheting inside the cockpit, until the Geki slams onto the ground. All this chaos seems a dandelion in comparison to the pinball the heart is playing against the ribs.
The thrashing, the beeps, the lingering notes of the gun orchestra, the yells in the comms, it all starts to dim. Grow distant from his senses, cold hands giving soft pokes and probing at his hurting sides as he shifts and blinks.
"Oh, what is it? Did they run out of steam already?" Munakata asks, her unit circling around the area of the crash.
"It would seem so, yes," Touko nods in the projection, zooming onto the scene through her sniping position. "1st Lt Hayase, why are you not finishing them off?"
"Oh, please. I spend all the day looking forward to a good fight and this is how it ends?! You, Eight, get up already. We're just getting started, aren't we?"
Yet Takeru breathes in, out, in, out, holding the nothing inside, only listening to his heart. Retracting inwards, stitched patches overlap with the cockpit as his ears ring a bit. An igloo of torn pages from dearest diaries, a small fire made out of roses for ashes.
"And remember well, never lose sight of who you are, Shirogane. Regardless of how many lives you led on that other world, there has to be a singular desire uniting all of you, which is why you still dream of those lives."
In, and out. For this slight pain is but a scratch. Just another reminder.
"Perhaps they're unconscious?"
"Tae, we're using practice equipment. Not even we knocked ourselves in our training."
"Suzumiya's right. I commend them for dodging so much for so long a time, but anyone would be wanting to throw in the towel in front of Hayase's offensive, right?"
"Kashiwagi, if they give up after this, I swear…"
"Haha, come on, it was still a fun little exercise?"
The Valkyries argue a bit, more calls through the commons to the mystery Gekishin go unanswered. As Isumi tries and bring them to order to finish the battle, Kouzuki taps her shoulder, shakes her head. When scanning the incoming data, all numbers being fed by his suit were rising.
"…Yashiro, what can you hear?" she whispers the question, leaning down closer to the assistant watching the monitors.
She slumps a bit, hailing not a sound. "It's no longer yellow…"
"Well, obviously. Why would Shirogane be in a good mood as of now?"
"Takeru-san is always yellow, even when his comrades are cold to him, even when you argued with him."
"I… see. What do you sense, then? Dark?"
"No, it's… odd," her bunny ear flap, lips twisting at the mountains drawn by the scanning incoming from the suit. "I've never seen two colors in one person at the same time."
"Two?"
"Yes. Red and blue. Anger, sadness, mixed, fused, feeding each other. Overlapping."
In such a twist was his expression, coughing while rubbing his temple. Recalling that place, the firm yet bottomless feel of standing in the reactor, on both occasions. Not due to silky eyes is his heart stirring, nor due to sweet hearts does his own eyes remain dry.
"So keep your good spirits up, no matter what! Otherwise, you'll fall to those same sinking feelings you're dreaming about every day now. Remember that you cannot see memories from other Shiroganes, you can only assimilate experiences you yourself have lived through."
Not a single speck of light, no matter how frail, was awaiting when he opens his sight. Only further rumbling as the enemy alarm beeps again. Bound to the controls, to the leash masking freedom, unable to tend own wounds and leaving that to the shiver of coldness down his back, the checks on the machine show he can stand again.
Yet Takeru makes no attempt to do so.
All of the agitation remains in the back of his head, that glacial ant march begins going lower, kindly rekindling what below the ashes of those diaries lays.
"What is it, you coward?! Don't have the balls to face us now?!"
"Heh, we showed them what's what! Go eat cat shit before you think of challenging us again!"
"Yeah, what Senpai said! Run back to your mommy before we change our minds!"
"…My family's probably dead already over there," he inhales sharply, eyes closing equally so. His ears are barely resisting the urge to plead lips and fingers to imitate what old echoes whispered along the scorching swearing.
And yet the old playback eases the fire, for a moment. "In the end, if you wake up somewhere else again, know that to truly end your curse… you will have to face the phantoms of whatever that Iceberg thing meant for that version of yourself, along that other Ouka mission. And if you fail to keep your cheer, you'll end up just as that Shirogane was by the end of things."
An arcade, a round of ice cream that went unclaimed. A meeting in a park to run, a dare never to be answered. Finding each other in a random art gallery, only for the suggestions never to be thanked. Little things in the pages, of those final days, of an oath to slay the chain.
Taunt shots rave around the Gekishin, more fervent the vocal venoms in jest booming in the common channel. On the Command Post, a small silent hand raises, Uzuki points and waves in hurry to the monitor, breath picking up further speed than the blurry hand.
A promise, two actually, not only broken but willfully ignored. And a request, almost a plead, betrayed by the end.
Compared to that, what is this scratch even? Why fear this feeble pain? Compared to what they gave up, is this enough to freeze?
Is this enough to save them this time?
The, oh, searing frown is a plentiful answer.
Vacuumed in goes the fog, a vortex that soon spreads and cover his entire shape in that same cold compression. The lips and the cheeks, nibbled and nibbled, hands balling into fists and choking the controls. Equally hard does Kouzuki's expression shifts from the slow sway to tasting iron in the back of her mouth, calling a line that does not care to answer.
"Hey, should we end the fight or what?" Takahara asks, shrugging.
"C-Come on, perhaps a call for orders would be for the best?" Tae suggests, receiving the agreement of most of her cadet comrades.
"You rookies are a bit green still," Hayase chuckles, firing once just above the dark and gray Gekishin. "Heeey, you ace pilot! Why don't you try and at least take one of us with you? Isn't that the least a dead soldier can do?"
An eye twitches, starts to tilt inwards like all the blue in the fog, all the heat in the cockpit.
"Hayase, there's no need for provocations, right?"
"Shut it, Munakata. This guy or gal or whatever almost ran circles on us, for literal minutes. If they've got no guts to attack, all that dodging is worth nothing."
"One must never lose poise, 1st Lieutenant. Misae-san speaks the truth, perhaps we should contact Command?"
"Ain't a reason to. Come on, Eight! Is this all you got?! Man, if this is all then the rest of your squad must be a sack full of shit! Bet they wouldn't survive an incursion!"
Lips crack along the replay, the explosive end of the owner of the burning voice, the paint job her friend had become.
"Yeah! Those catshits might not be good enough to join our ranks, but they'd make a good snack for the Tanks."
"…Senpai, that was a bit mean."
"Shut it, Mayu. We never have enough meatshields in the army."
"Must you truly fall to such lengths? That was uncalled for, 1st Lt Daikuuji."
"Oh, come on, Suzumiya, it's just banter, r-right?" Kashiwagi deflects, chuckling cracks at the deafening silence on the line.
"I agree with Suzumiya and Tamano, there's a limit to chicanery," Munakata nods to the projection, messing with her hair.
Causing Daikuuji to erupt further, smacking at her controls. "I mean, if this is all the mystery pilot has to offer then, they're no better than cat shit! And we're- Oh?
"Oho, so you can still stand, Eight, hehe," she nods, readjusting her posture in the cockpit, and her own machine's in front of the rise of the fallen.
The beeps for a connection from Kouzuki's end he ignores, while licking wounds too deep to recall, all those tiny scraps of pages he'll never put down in the proper slot in the diary. Facing the many barrels, those darkened glares, brings a shiver down his spine. An overlay begins in his sight once again, foul smells tickling out of nowhere.
Another warning from young Yashiro, who's almost as pale as her hair, pulls at Kouzuki's sleeves, and despite her attempts to connect to him, the line remains silent.
And as the Valkyries warm up their boosters, line up their barrels his way and begin to again provide a thousand taunts and jabs, Shirogane slowly falls onto the seat and the cold hands tickling about then breathes a hollow sigh and licks his lips.
It tastes of salt and blood.
[Recommended Music: Agitator, Armored Core 4.]
Windows left ignored for many nights receive a shower for the first time, breaking in the process. Fireworks of many colors fly off, none reach their target. Like customers after discounts on the market, like ants to sweet honey they march yet find nothing at the end of their chosen line.
How quickly does the tide change, one can rarely predict the sea's whims. One moment everything is calm and nice, the other the firmament whole is falling on you. Much like a pendulum swaying one way, only to backhand you in the face the next.
"K-Kashiwagi! You, hey! The hell was that for?! You could've injured her!"
Little can they do in front of a sudden storm, lost under the drizzle's barrage. Sailing white flags serves no purpose, they're ripped in half along zigzags, ignored in lack of mercy amidst spins.
"I-I can't lose it! Wait, no, I surrende- Aiiiieeeeee!"
"Asakura! Oh, now you've done it, you asshole!"
"Takahara, stay in line! It's a lure, don't-"
Is there any use in trying to punch each and every droplet? Even if one would put on a coat, it only lessens the damage. And as the wind picks up speed in chaos, circling around it all, the sinking seems all but inevitable.
"W-Why are we missing all our shots, Senpai?!"
"Sync up with me, Mayu! Now that they're busy with Hayase in CQC we can bust the Gekishin's ass! On three!"
"Yes, Senpai! One, two, and here we- A-gaaaaaah!"
"Why the hell is it still hitting us at this distance?! They ain't even looking our way to know when to trigger the pylons! Ah, dammit… Mayu, how you holdin'?"
"As you can see, I have been bested as well… S-Senpai, why is it coming closer? Aren't we marked as defeated already?"
"I mean, yeah? What is this dumbass trying to- H-Hey, don't take our weapons!"
Whether it is bullets or raindrops, at this point it matters little to the soldier. Why, he wonders, does it always rain on days like this. Why on the last day he can recall, why is it always raining.
Facing away is something that cannot be done. It is too late for that, to try and feign ignorance. That would equal cowardice.
So he faces the storm, the shackling tempest in the cockpit, the inner tempest it spurs in his stomach. The burning flux wanting out at the base of his throat, the iceberg falling through the heart.
But even as the glitch in the eye stops, even if the gritting teeth remain as such, Takeru keeps on boosting through the screams, from the past or the actual ones. Which one was louder? It didn't really matter.
Because there has to be an end, an eye to the storm.
"If a frontal wasn't enough, let's try a flat-scissor! Munakata, Kazama! Flank on the next street!"
"On your mark, 1st Lieutenant!"
"If we fail this one, should we count it as your miss?"
"Fuck it, I skip a month of booze if you want. Just bring this asshole down. I'll keep Eight busy enough!"
Why did this taste of salt?
Why was the tournament again in his mind?
Why did all those smiles begin to burn, to stagnate inside?
When holding the bull that is Hayase, when stomping the pedals into a backboost that isn't challenged, as his wings flicker and send the Gekishin into a dolphin backflip, above and away from the incoming attack, a word pops up in his mind.
"Coward."
Choking the trigger and gunning them all down into shrieks before even landing from the acrobatic, Shirogane begins to laugh dryly.
"…So you were holding back, eh? Well, no more playing nice then!" Hayase roars as she rushes with a sword in each hand, pylon mimicking the phantom in front in firing cover. Not even the sliced air from her attacks tickles the shadow of the enemy. The fury doubles, much like the tidal waves of gunpowder, of BETA inside his mind.
Recalling a round of hugs in the same spot, in different moments makes even the bracing of sharp tilts and sidesteps come as lacking. There is no softness to lay back against. No light to chase after, but those of days that are gone. There's no way back, no home to return to, or so he reasons as he rollercoaster dodges the flurries and paint bombs, smiling as his lips move and part, ever so slightly, in a gentle chant in sheer contrast to the tune of his dodging.
"Much like a petal dancing along the wind must your attacks be."
Perhaps in mockery, on the corner of his visor he spots a small park. One certain small park. So this time he plants his heel, steel meets steel, paint is traded, and Hayase's stride cut in half. Reflecting the aggro, meeting it fully sends her machine to kiss bricks, his own to tackle more lightposts. Yet none of her verbose barrages reaches him, the actual gunshots even less, Takeru keeps chuckling and whispering some odd mantra.
"Graceful. Precise. But deadly as well."
The more silent he remains, laughing at himself, the more bombastic the new haircut of the Hiiragi district becomes, courtesy of Hayase's and the rest rising rage at the perceived slight. No counter, or feint, or even an attempt to tumble his machine seems effective. After all, you cannot kill a shadow. It's always gonna be there, right below, right behind you. The stronger the light, the harsher the contrast. And maybe, just maybe, that is why he laughs, recalling the last days back home, the favor granted by one such lesser shadow.
"Unpredictable as the changing form of a cloud…"
Boosters ignite, almost as much as Hayase's curses when the dark Gekishin does another backflip, tripping her pace. Only by the cover of Kazama the gavel isn't dropped onto her head, yet all the Valkyries soon gasp and remain frozen. Despite the hit to an arm, despite tumbling in midair, the enemy Gekishin still moves, and its fire hounds them further. Just a scratch, compared to that tutelage.
"With the serenity of a fish swimming down a river…"
Ice probes from inside his arms, frost drifting on the hairpins on his veins, prickling in a shiver that screams storm from every swing of the controls. Almost a mirror to the iron maiden that encases Isumi, when watching the descent of the dark upon her Valkyries. And she, too, feels fading heartbeats as the wings are clipped, pulled off by the nerve.
"And the violence of the changing rapids downstream."
From both sides more paint rains upon the dark machine, dodged by spinning with a single booster. Backflipping away, landing right behind a Valkyrie that knew not to keep a proper distance, another pair of wings is taken by the two reversed blades. Right in front of the others, even. So the dark Gekishin waves a sword inwards while backboosting, he smiles at the red the bulls see him as. In the polar opposite is his chanting, enforced by all the goosebumps of tension thanks to the pinball he's playing inside the cockpit through his acrobatics.
But inside of the mind, there is only stillness. That same stoic stillness instilled by those indomitable eyes behind the glasses, in equal blizzard to his current expression.
"Swiftly. Firmly. Fiercely. Calmly."
Running away from the heat of the remaining ones, away into a dead end, Takeru chuckles and speeds up, everything blurring about. The echoes, the images, the scenery, the memories. Leaving only that last moment, the explosion to cleanse the toxins off his world's wheels, those small cerulean fireflies cracking and taking.
"We've got it surrounded now, let's end this!"
"Akane, wait! Something's off with their flight pattern. Let us take point and-"
"They've nowhere to run, and we're the closest ones here. Tae, on me!"
"A-Ah, yes!"
"Dammit… Munakata, Kazama, you're close too?"
"Getting there myself, don't worry."
"Same as Misae-san here."
Facing that street of tumbled buildings and skyscrapers pierced by legs of Forts no one could remove or wanted to waste time doing so, the five Valkyries rush into the moonlight carpet, sensors scanning and guns about to blaze.
"Let your strikes flow upon your enemies-"
A beep confirms the position.
Another the movement.
A third one, louder, bathes them in red.
And only then, when looking up at a crushed skyscraper, did they realize, they'd fucked up.
"-like an Unending Waterfall!"
A cannon ball of dark metal slings from the trampoline the bricks had become, reflecting moonlit danger back at the Valkyries. An Albright Turn, with no delay on the execution.
"Spread out!" is what Hayase manages to order in the second she gets before backboosting and swallowing her tongue down.
Only contorted shrieks from even more compressed throats did Suzumiya and her partner answer with.
Landing feet first onto another building, rebounding upwards, the shadow covers the moon, falls again at the Valkyries who, once more, remain tilting for a moment much like those watching the sparring from the Command Post.
For one building in its entirety was cleanly cut in half after the aggro of the shadow. Embers may even rove around his eyelids.
"Not so fast, Eight!" meeting the challenge and the slashes, almost folding upon the force of the comet pummeling, Hayase stands her ground, shackled by the pouring tide from every strike. "Shit, what is it with this attack pattern?! And why the hell are they using the swords backwards, anyways?!"
A boost away from danger lets Hayase breathe, and see for herself that a few lightposts, a car or two, and a small patch of concrete were cleanly sliced in twain in her stead, apparently. Gulping hard and raising a sword on instinct deflects the attempt of the backflipping shadow to claim her neck, although her wrists and shoulders were very much already crying rivers.
When the enemy takes a step back upon landing, Hayase spits and rushes after at full speed, tackling Takeru's machine but not stopping the boost until both end up crashed against a building, pinning the dark Gekishin to it.
"Munakata, Kazama, shoot us down!"
"But we can't get a clear lock, we might-"
"Don't care, use my ID signal to fire! That's an order!"
"Competitive to the very end, huh," Touko smiles as she sighs from her nose, rapidly thrusting the controls back, raising her aim. "Even now they're struggling, as if unaffected by any shocks…" she smiles while flicking the trigger, two 120mm canisters of paint flying their way.
And with a plop, the final chord resonates in showering pain. Caking the squirming duo in a strong pink, the automated message appears on their visors as the tumbleweed of entangled metal slumps to the street.
"Exercise finished. Units, return to your transports," Uzuki tells through the common channel in slow words, and with a simple nod she cuts the connection.
"Hey, Hayase, are you alright?" Munakata asks, bringing her machine closer.
"Yeah… Pheeew. Don't worry. So, Eight," she says when giving enough space for the mystery pilot to stands as well, "you got us good, eh? Will be looking forward to training with you!" with a smile, she offers one of her Gekishin's hands.
And is ignored, the dark machine taking off in the opposite direction without a single word or wasted second.
"Come on, nothing?! Say something, curse at us, anything!"
"Hayase."
"Captain, please, you cannot place such a hurdle in front of us and-"
"1st Lt Hayase, return to your transport, immediately. I will not repeat myself here. Obey your orders, or I'm taking you off Hive simulations."
"Wha… Ugh. Understood, ma'am. Valkyries, you heard the Captain," she says, gritting her teeth, barely closing the oven of aggravations.
"Someone's a bit too moody, me thinks. Don't tell me you actually had an orga-"
"Mu-na-ka-taaa…"
On jests and jabs the Valkyries depart towards their rides to take their TSFs back home. Some more dejected than the rest, a few whose throats had been silenced, others invigorated with many curses. Initial screams softened upon the resolution of the exercise, even if the shadow's scythe still lingered in their ears.
In the Captain's as well.
"What is it, Isumi? You look like you've seen a… ghost, one could say," Kouzuki says in jest, smiling while fiddling with her PDA.
"You said this was some test for a new OS, and a fresh trainee," Isumi says, low and even. Unblinking as she stares at the monitors displaying Shirogane's results.
"That I did, yes. What did you think of this?"
"Your system needs polishing, it seems, but even so shows much promise. However, I must ask if this… pilot is truly a novice as you claim," she calmly asks, the opposite of the tumult near her throat's base.
"…Why do you ask?"
"If you think I've forgotten those days, those missions of 1999 or… Gulp." Isumi sighs as her knees shake, then faces the XO as her hands begin to wring. "Those moves, those sharp aerial maneuvers were the same as the ones employed by some of the Imperial Guards that aided us while we we're preparing for Lucifer."
"Hmm. So you noticed."
"Wh-What?! XO, what do- what is this about?" she asks, paling further than young Yashiro, who scuttles behind the lab coat.
Kouzuki simply shrugs, keeping a hand over an eye. "Let's say I found myself a useful pawn, but he comes with a catch. As you can see, his piloting style is not only very eccentric but reminiscent of one certain doctrine. Basing myself on his odd piloting quirks, I made the plans for this new OS you saw in action, but more than that, I wanted you to see Shirogane fight," she slowly stands, walking up to Isumi, staring and pointing at the monitors, "so that you can tell if he's ever holding back on purpose under your orders."
"…You want this person under the Valkyries? H-However, why would you allow an Imperial Guard into-"
"Isumi," she cuts in, again pointing to the monitors, "there's many things I need to test regarding Shirogane's character. You, as the captain of the Valkyries, are tasked with overseeing his performance when the time comes. Shirogane is, for the time being, on our side. And you've given me the answer that yes, as I thought the piloting style he follows is eccentric enough to leave a lasting impression."
Coughing to calm shaking knees under the reminder of the mess those old days were, Isumi straightens her posture, hands behind her back. "Will this pilot join us, then?"
"No, not for now. You'll train with him, in some new regimes I've been working on lately. I want you to keep an eye on every little detail. While everything would point to him truly being an ally, we can never be too lenient. Also," facing the readings, some in red numbers, from her PDA, Kouzuki frowns and sighs, heavily so, "some people will notice, just as you did. I assume telling him to employ moderation would be a waste, so I need an extra pair of eyes on top of him to prevent any misunderstandings."
"…And what if he is, indeed, linked to that doctrine as his skills hint at?"
"If he ever attempts to follow that same path, we shall… erase his trails so as to soften the consequences. You're the only one that remains from those days, Isumi. So-"
"I know, ma'am," she salutes, sharply so. "If I ever find the smallest hint of dissidence in this cadet, I'll send him to the detention barracks immediately."
"Good. Just don't try and force him out of the STF without reason. Yashiro will notice it right away. Right?" she asks, smiling when turning around, chuckling upon the too serious, too fast nod the assistant gives.
"Understood, ma'am. However… Why? I don't understand the need to take on this risk. If you ask me, there is a high probability this cadet is but a spy."
"Heh, I thought the same as you. But no, he is no spy, of that you can be certain," sighing as she folds her arms, Kouzuki sits and spins. "But he might be something worse, if the wrong people start to push for answer like 1st Lt Tsukuyomi did some days ago. And if our world's Shirogane was a Royal Guard, there is a possibility he, too, might naturally grow to favor the Shogunate in time…"
While Kouzuki answers more queries on the OS, and what she expected Isumi to do during these coming 'training sessions' her eyes linger on the PDA, the numbers on Shirogane's suit, that are evened out, calm and stable. Yashiro shakes her head, still hearing nothing clear, so the scientist focuses on finishing her current duties instead.
Inside that cockpit, Takeru is leaning back, comfortably as possible, enjoying the small rocking of the support vehicle lining his TSF for transport back to yet completely neutral is the expression he wears, stare lost somewhere far beyond the cockpit.
"If Sensei was right, and there is a similarity, one singular feeling each and every version of myself share, then there has to be a reason for me to have kept going after Iceberg," he reasons, a hand covering an eye.
It still tastes of salt and blood. The rain is still knocking on his window, wanting to flood the void. Even when in control that cloud remains atop him, stalking.
"Sensei stopped me last loop as I was about to jump from the roof, the hope to save Sumika kept me going even when things looked impossible. Even now, my wish to mend the damage back home gives me a pillar of strength. But those other memories feel hopeless, just as I was after seeing what had happened to Sumika in the gym… But if I can't recall those days after Babylon then, what kept me going? Or is it, who?"
Only shards slither up his throat when looking up, back into those days, the fuzzy playback burning at the edges.
"And if this emptiness inside ain't leaving me even when I try to stay in a good mood, even using the mantra of the Mugen Kidou style I learned back home to focus my thoughts, if this despair floods all of those memories then, did everything end badly on each and every world?" he gulps hard, constricting his throat, again gripping at his heart softly.
The faces and smiles and screams all collide, fusing in the middle and forcing him to cough them all. Even when retelling the speech he was taught after the disasters on his world, the calmness that then comes when figments of a snowy mountain surface in him lets Takeru regain his breath, yet it is for naught.
There's nothing of worth to be found in nightfall, only ashes remain after light's out. And thus, it's obvious why would he only further sink to red and blue as tendrils and roots embrace it all to cold before another round of coughing comes to him, like every time he thinks of those roses.
After all, that old longing still remains unfulfilled to this very moment. And those cold thorns tickle and hurt, so little, but so much.
A few moments later…
"-and that's why I kind of snapped. Next time, tell me ahead of time you're sending me to the hounds," Shirogane complains, harshly gulping down the coffee then lifting and munching at a muffing.
Kouzuki simply spins in her chair, resting her mug onto the desk when decelerating. "No promises. Still, your performance was more than interesting. By the by, where did you learn your piloting? Anyone you took after?"
"No one, it's how I like to move, both in the game and in real life," he shrugs, taking a pause to drink and wash the sweetness away. "I figured that if I'm always on the move, I've better odds to not get shot down. And since the shields barely work for most of anything, I opted to use two blades instead back in my first loops. Haven't looked back since."
"Hmm, I see… So it's your own form, huh…"
"I know it looks crazy, but really, with enough time everyone will be jumping like I do."
"I'll believe it when I see it," she rolls her eyes, snatching some papers from the pile. "Yashiro mentioned your emotions grew stirred during the bout, by the way. Was it the shock of realizing you were facing the Valkyries?" she asks in cheer, yet sideglancing him from the top of the pages.
Takeru throws himself onto the sofa, lightly biting at his lips. "No, not that. I just… lost my cool for a sec there, so I tried to rein myself in. Tried to stay positive and not react to their words, so I focused on my game and played to my outs."
"…Did you saw or heard any memories?"
"Nothing new, if that's what you're worried about," he shrugs, smiling at the ceiling, chomping the last remaining bits of the snacks. "Just recalled parts of my goal, and decided to stretch my wings a bit. Nice data that harvested for you, didn't it?"
Kouzuki spins away, scratching at her thumb. "Hmm. So you simply were stretching your wings, huh… In any case, you performed above my expectations. Good job, Shirogane," she says, giving a lazy thumbs up from behind the paper towers in the desk. "You'll continue to assist the Valkyries in their testings of the XM3, and once we finish the console prototypes you'll get to share their trainings too."
"Sigh… So even less free time, eh? Just keep Hayase off my back, okay?"
She smiles back, before drinking in silence. "…You simply do your part, without holding back, and you won't have anything to fear. Well, I'll be going over the recordings of your unit. You should be on your way to your room," she says, waving shoos at the door.
Takeru rolls his eyes, finishing his drink and standing. "Are you sure? It's kinda late. I can lend you a hand if-"
"I am used to this sort of workload, and your current assignment is the preparation of squad 207 for the CCSE. So," she then fires a finger to the door.
"You're not planning on staying up all night, are you?"
"…Shirogane, did you not listen?"
"Siiigh… At least have some dinner, okay?"
"Mmgh… The concern is appreciated, but it is unnecessary. I have been holding up well enough without your eyes hovering over my back at all times. I can take care of myself."
"I know, I know… Later, Sensei," he says, waving away while hopping across the babel towers of papers.
After a moment of silence, Kouzuki stands and refills her cup. A sip burns its way down, sends a sigh out. Yet those stiff shoulders, the reddening eyes, a small cold shiver down her back. Perhaps there was some truth to the cadet's words?
Clicks and pops continue, however, unblinking.
"The reaction time was the biggest bottleneck, especially when he remains airborne…"
Despite the rushing that tries and imitate the soldier's piloting, only a sliver remains of that rambunctious march in the reviewing by this hour.
"I cannot detect a motive for the disturbance to his numbers, not directly with the crash…"
And slowly her tummy wails, paling like young Yashiro. Always going forward, much like Shirogane during the fight. Sparing not a single second, not even considering it, the blur of the clock's face would spin like the drunken dolphin's data she's scanning.
With the coffee as the sole companion fueling the never-ending work, employing health as a resource, the scientist endures the toil. What is another sleepless night, another short migraine, more repining from the other two or-
"Siiigh…" she suddenly stops her motions, to crack her neck and dispel the cold hands looming over it. Yuuko then gazes to a side while rubbing the underside of an ear, looking at the other two mugs by the table, lips curled in. "I suppose, it would be inadvisable to push myself to such lengths today," Kouzuki says, standing and beginning to carefully save and cease the operations of her machine.
Once in a blue moon, even she needs a well-earned rest although it may be but a nap. All's well that ends well.
"Yaaawn…I'll simply have Yashiro handle this tomorrow morning, then. She is in charge of the debugging, anywa-aaawn…Ugh."
…Or maybe not. Poor little bun.