knight | type 2.

"Once you make it past the first one, the hard part's over."

Tougou still had some reservations and so he left a fully recovered Six to do a little more hunting around for any other information that would be beneficial to them. The most Tougou could do was keep the information to the side for a rainy day, possibly leave it with Lars, but that would be yet another possible source of anxiety for his friend to sit with. Tougou thought Lars was already dealing with enough.

Tougou had never been more thankful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. Lars' confession lanced through him, cut him more than any scalpel or laser could. It dug into him the way the augmentations did, and he thought he deserved that pain more than Lars' forgiveness.

"You still need me?" Tougou questioned, and he bit back another chuckle. "Lars, look at what you've accomplished without me. You did more than just take a chunk of the Mishima Zaibatsu's forces, you turned them into an efficient and skilled army that could contend with three separate parties."

The only difference Tougou being around would have done was simply that he would have been alive. The situation now is...delicate for lack of a better term. If Tougou could go back, he would but he was not about have Lars waste resources trying to compete with the enhancement program's modifications.

“And you think I could have done that without you?” Lars retorted, a stare-down taking place of a strike, “Even if you couldn’t fight anymore, you’re my brother; you were always more than just my lieutenant.”

Every early misstep, every triumph, every promotion, Tougou had been there. In or out of the uniform, he was his companion first. He had confided things in him that he hadn’t even told his own family. He was the only one who understood his plights and experiences down to the fibre.

“I could never ask you to leave your post, I know it isn’t that simple. I just can’t handle us being strangers.” Tougou’s work in the shadows benefited him greatly, but he didn’t want those shadows to be a necessity anymore.

It was Tougou’s turn to ask questions. Even if he lied, the overwork was visible in his features, especially the dark circles. Sighing, Lars faced all the way front, head firmly on the backrest.

Right. That would have to be brought to light again with a host of other explanations.

"That's a little vague, Lars." Tougou answered, honest. He kept his eyes on the open road. It was as if people decided they had no places to go, and thus no desire to create insufferable traffic. "Physically? I'm about a four out of ten on the pain scale, but my four is a civilian's nine. Mentally? Raincheck me on that."

Tougou's playlist shuffled through another song quietly and he continued the otherwise smooth drive, not at all minding the interruption of the music by his system warning him briefly of a speed trap. Tougou figured it would be best to rip the bandaid off and embrace the potential storm that may have been brewing.

Lars had been vague in his delivery, but he didn’t know where to start. He wasn’t fine, not by the definition that the commander was going by. He was in pain, which came with any kind of recovery, but he wished the cause hadn’t been…this. Mentally Lars couldn’t even begin to imagine how one processed being on the brink of death, then being brought back to serve as someone else’s tool. That part he wanted to get to the bottom of.

The warning chime had Lars briefly glancing over out of habit before Tougou’s question wound him back.

“Yes, you do,” Lars wanted to scold him, but that wasn’t entirely fair, “you owe me an explanation, you owe me time, you—”

He felt a burning in the tips of his ears and a tickle in his throat. Lars stared down into his lap aimlessly, recalling the period immediately after Tougou’s supposed passing. Lars was a wreck, isolating himself so he could be vulnerable without breaking the others’ resolve. The reality that either one of them could die at any moment was always there; Lars thought he had accepted and understood it until it happened to him. His promise to Tougou was what kept him going, and even though he was able to, the pain was still there. It never stopped festering and he never stopped grieving.

The sharp sound he produced disposed the sensation but also served to steel his nerves. It unsettled him that he was upset prior to getting any answers.

The pain that Tougou felt back then settled deep into his bones and served as a new core memory. It was pain he absolutely could not go back to feeling.

"When the UN reps walked into my room, it was after the clinical team told me I'd be spending the rest of my days in a chair. The UN offered me a second chance through their enhancement program, and I took it. I could feel anything anyway...until I did, post surgery. That's how I knew it worked." The express need to survive made Tougou agree, first and foremost. The mild hatred for the program itself didn't surface until he'd met Six and Ace. They were far younger than Tougou was and they were driven not by fear, but by desperation. They'd lost so much because of all of this fighting, and saw the program as a means of getting stronger and protecting themselves. They believed in the UN whereas Tougou seldom did; they were a means to an end. "I don't think you want those details, Lars. You don't need to be regaled with enhancement program horror stories." Tougou continued, changing lanes when it was safe before hitting a button on his display screen. With his eyes focused on the road again, he listened as the system further alerted him to upcoming road work. He saw no point in detailing surgical procedures; it wasn't like Lars could use it as ammunition and he'd only be making himself even more upset.

Lars couldn’t imagine his friend being confined to a wheelchair, and he knew that wasn’t a life he would be willing to live either. He understood why he would have agreed to the program. Despite it all, part of Lars was glad he did, too. His life would have been taken from him far too soon.

Lars frowned, some brilliant minds would have had to be at the helm of that operation, “That must have been hell…I’m sorry.”

The UN running an enhanced soldier program would have raised eyebrows had they not been up against the supernatural themselves. Tougou was right, he didn’t want to imagine him going through all that needed to be done for the end result to be this. Lars had read those old classified Zaibatsu reports about human experimentation and their fatal products, the UN must have yielded the same with the only difference being consent. At least he hoped so.

Lars shifted in his seat, propping his arm up against the door and leaning into the window. When did everything become so convoluted? His earlier life ended up being something he never signed up for and now he was living through a twisted nightmare. Trust didn’t mean a damn thing anymore—trust died when Tougou did. That was how it was supposed to be.

The explanation freed up the mental bandwidth Lars needed to continue the conversation, especially when Tougou took accountability for the grief. His chest tightened again.

He lifted his head from its resting position, moving his glasses up onto his head, “Tougou…”

His shoulders dropped; it all needed to be said, more needed to be said. Lars wouldn’t allow himself to be a coward when he had literally been given a second chance. For someone known for his rousing speeches, he hated to talk when it came to himself.

“Saying I missed you doesn’t even begin to put it into words,” Lars confessed, “I needed you. Hell, I still need you. Learning that you were alive this whole time felt like such a betrayal, but…”

"Once you make it past the first one, the hard part's over."

Tougou still had some reservations and so he left a fully recovered Six to do a little more hunting around for any other information that would be beneficial to them. The most Tougou could do was keep the information to the side for a rainy day, possibly leave it with Lars, but that would be yet another possible source of anxiety for his friend to sit with. Tougou thought Lars was already dealing with enough.

Tougou had never been more thankful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. Lars' confession lanced through him, cut him more than any scalpel or laser could. It dug into him the way the augmentations did, and he thought he deserved that pain more than Lars' forgiveness.

"You still need me?" Tougou questioned, and he bit back another chuckle. "Lars, look at what you've accomplished without me. You did more than just take a chunk of the Mishima Zaibatsu's forces, you turned them into an efficient and skilled army that could contend with three separate parties."

The only difference Tougou being around would have done was simply that he would have been alive. The situation now is...delicate for lack of a better term. If Tougou could go back, he would but he was not about have Lars waste resources trying to compete with the enhancement program's modifications.

Right. That would have to be brought to light again with a host of other explanations.

"That's a little vague, Lars." Tougou answered, honest. He kept his eyes on the open road. It was as if people decided they had no places to go, and thus no desire to create insufferable traffic. "Physically? I'm about a four out of ten on the pain scale, but my four is a civilian's nine. Mentally? Raincheck me on that."

Tougou's playlist shuffled through another song quietly and he continued the otherwise smooth drive, not at all minding the interruption of the music by his system warning him briefly of a speed trap. Tougou figured it would be best to rip the bandaid off and embrace the potential storm that may have been brewing.

Lars had been vague in his delivery, but he didn’t know where to start. He wasn’t fine, not by the definition that the commander was going by. He was in pain, which came with any kind of recovery, but he wished the cause hadn’t been…this. Mentally Lars couldn’t even begin to imagine how one processed being on the brink of death, then being brought back to serve as someone else’s tool. That part he wanted to get to the bottom of.

The warning chime had Lars briefly glancing over out of habit before Tougou’s question wound him back.

“Yes, you do,” Lars wanted to scold him, but that wasn’t entirely fair, “you owe me an explanation, you owe me time, you—”

He felt a burning in the tips of his ears and a tickle in his throat. Lars stared down into his lap aimlessly, recalling the period immediately after Tougou’s supposed passing. Lars was a wreck, isolating himself so he could be vulnerable without breaking the others’ resolve. The reality that either one of them could die at any moment was always there; Lars thought he had accepted and understood it until it happened to him. His promise to Tougou was what kept him going, and even though he was able to, the pain was still there. It never stopped festering and he never stopped grieving.

The sharp sound he produced disposed the sensation but also served to steel his nerves. It unsettled him that he was upset prior to getting any answers.

The pain that Tougou felt back then settled deep into his bones and served as a new core memory. It was pain he absolutely could not go back to feeling.

"When the UN reps walked into my room, it was after the clinical team told me I'd be spending the rest of my days in a chair. The UN offered me a second chance through their enhancement program, and I took it. I could feel anything anyway...until I did, post surgery. That's how I knew it worked." The express need to survive made Tougou agree, first and foremost. The mild hatred for the program itself didn't surface until he'd met Six and Ace. They were far younger than Tougou was and they were driven not by fear, but by desperation. They'd lost so much because of all of this fighting, and saw the program as a means of getting stronger and protecting themselves. They believed in the UN whereas Tougou seldom did; they were a means to an end. "I don't think you want those details, Lars. You don't need to be regaled with enhancement program horror stories." Tougou continued, changing lanes when it was safe before hitting a button on his display screen. With his eyes focused on the road again, he listened as the system further alerted him to upcoming road work. He saw no point in detailing surgical procedures; it wasn't like Lars could use it as ammunition and he'd only be making himself even more upset.

However, this war made that peace seem like a fleeting dream and so Tougou opted to ally himself with the UN. He would have been a corpse otherwise. The UN in exchange for his participation promised to take care of him, which meant giving Tougou the means to carve out his peace away from the near constant fighting, breaking news reports.

Osaka felt like an entirely different world, reminded Tougou to never lose sight of the end goal: lasting peace. Because Tougou's augmentations constantly forced him to stop worrying about the war and focus on recovering, the itch for something outside of violence and mayhem was scratched often. He cherished these days, but there was always something that lingered, since the moment he realized he hadn't died. That something--well, someone--was now sitting in his passenger seat. Try as he might, Tougou always had one memory sit with him in that cold and quiet hospital room and he would take that memory to his real grave one day.

"Considering I had to have my old pick-up sold, this is all new." Tougou answered. "The UN absolutely dishes out bonuses, but in my case, it's compensation. They would have given me a penthouse apartment if I asked for it. I asked for a decent, durable pick up among other things and they gave it to me. When I'm home, I spend the time making sure she stays in working condition." He huffed a little at those words; he was the farthest from devoted to the UN. Sometimes they were just as questionable as the Mishima Zaibatsu and G Corporation, but Tougou never expected any corporation to be honest and forthright. Tougou himself wasn't the pinnacle of honesty, in fact he spent far too much time telling himself he was terrible. That was okay for him; Lars was the better one.

“I see. I’m glad they let you come home,” and didn’t have him stashed away somewhere in secret, “ever the tinkerer.”

Lars hadn’t been home in the traditional sense in a very, very long time. Since Jin’s fall, the assassination order had abated, but he had already resigned himself to the nomadic life. Maybe now was the time to visit before most of the world turned to rubble.

Tougou mentioning the muffin had Lars realizing how hungry he actually was.

“Is my stomach that loud?” He hadn’t eaten a lick on the plane; he couldn’t tolerate it. Not only because of the poor quality, but also because of the nerves.

He had never been apprehensive when it came to Tougou, he hated that that was even a possibility. Sitting in the truck, chatting away like it had been simpler times, had him questioning why he ever felt that way. That was until Tougou pointed out the elephant in the room.

He made it seem like this was a common occurrence. As in multiple sessions?

Lars rolled down the window for some air, glad that his sunglasses obscured some of his features. The dread came roaring back, lodging itself into his sternum. Now was as good a time as ever to ask Tougou about everything, put his worries and assumptions to rest.

He stared forward at the road in silence for a minute. It would have been an uncomfortably long time had the music not filled the gap.

Right. That would have to be brought to light again with a host of other explanations.

"That's a little vague, Lars." Tougou answered, honest. He kept his eyes on the open road. It was as if people decided they had no places to go, and thus no desire to create insufferable traffic. "Physically? I'm about a four out of ten on the pain scale, but my four is a civilian's nine. Mentally? Raincheck me on that."

Tougou's playlist shuffled through another song quietly and he continued the otherwise smooth drive, not at all minding the interruption of the music by his system warning him briefly of a speed trap. Tougou figured it would be best to rip the bandaid off and embrace the potential storm that may have been brewing.

Looking into it, he was better off staying away from certain beverages onboard anyway. He’d settle for water and maybe a touch of juice if he was feeling cheeky.

Lars shifted to the side of the table to give Tougou room to get to his feet. He had noticed the grimace, Lars mirrored this with a wince of his own. One of the many questions he had for Tougou was to ask him about all that was involved in saving his life. He took care like a healing man; Lars regretted socking him in the face, but any pain below the neck was all the UN.

“…You good?” Lars asked in concern.

In true Tougou fashion, he brushed off the discomfort and was eager to get going. His companion nodded his head, choosing not to press for now, still eyeing him with worry as they made their way to the parkade.

It all seemed eerily…normal? Harkening back to their days on leave, engaging in the mundane by partaking in all the city had to offer. It was as though Lars had been transported back in time, like he wasn’t a cracking shell and Tougou wasn’t a ghost.

Osaka proper was one of the few major Japanese cities that had been spared from any bombings and direct combat. The war had been all white collar here. The fresh air gave his lungs a break from the diesel and gunpowder synonymous with military installations.

Arriving at Tougou’s truck, he was given the option of being seated in the back or on the passenger side. Lars scrunched his nose, humorously resenting the moniker as he got into the passenger’s seat, “I’ll be taking shotgun, thank you.”

However, this war made that peace seem like a fleeting dream and so Tougou opted to ally himself with the UN. He would have been a corpse otherwise. The UN in exchange for his participation promised to take care of him, which meant giving Tougou the means to carve out his peace away from the near constant fighting, breaking news reports.

Osaka felt like an entirely different world, reminded Tougou to never lose sight of the end goal: lasting peace. Because Tougou's augmentations constantly forced him to stop worrying about the war and focus on recovering, the itch for something outside of violence and mayhem was scratched often. He cherished these days, but there was always something that lingered, since the moment he realized he hadn't died. That something--well, someone--was now sitting in his passenger seat. Try as he might, Tougou always had one memory sit with him in that cold and quiet hospital room and he would take that memory to his real grave one day.

"Considering I had to have my old pick-up sold, this is all new." Tougou answered. "The UN absolutely dishes out bonuses, but in my case, it's compensation. They would have given me a penthouse apartment if I asked for it. I asked for a decent, durable pick up among other things and they gave it to me. When I'm home, I spend the time making sure she stays in working condition." He huffed a little at those words; he was the farthest from devoted to the UN. Sometimes they were just as questionable as the Mishima Zaibatsu and G Corporation, but Tougou never expected any corporation to be honest and forthright. Tougou himself wasn't the pinnacle of honesty, in fact he spent far too much time telling himself he was terrible. That was okay for him; Lars was the better one.

That had been the easiest thing to do for Tougou, considering after he made it back to headquarters and got Six settled into the medbay, his superiors spent a good fifteen minutes telling him how much he'd failed and that there were far better reconnaissance missions that were completed by his colleagues. He remembered keeping Ace from leaping to his defense, and merely taking the scolding on the chin before going to put in for his new suit. Next came the painful hours of alterations to his spine, the approved time away, and Ace's twenty-one million questions about Lars and if this was even a safe option.

"I don't think I've had anybody worry about me this much in a long time." Tougou chuckled into the phone, "I'll be alright, Ace. Lars is...I can trust him, I promise." Tougou wasn't sure how to explain it to Ace, who over time with Six had become staunchly protective of him. They called far too often, especially after he told them he was returning home to Osaka for a little while. He'd only just convinced Six to stop requesting proof of life texts, and for Ace to stop sending him daily mission briefings as if it would convince him to come back earlier. Tougou wouldn't be back anytime soon however; recovery was a requirement in order for his body to adjust properly. This time, instead of recovering mostly by himself, there'd be a time where Lars was here and Tougou wasn't exactly the greatest host. He would have to forgo his usual habits and focus everything on trying to explain the space in time where he was certainly not dead, but definitely keeping tabs on Lars.

It was all so, so agonizing the more Tougou thought about it. He really had been right underneath Lars' nose more often than not, and just like Tougou thought (at least until the whole Jin part came up), his best friend had done well. That was all Tougou ever wanted, and he was content to keep the dog tags and the photograph.

Until he wasn't.

Returning to base and having someone else manage Jin in the meantime gave him one less thing to think about. No longer being in escape and survival mode gave him the chance to sit with the maelstrom; he had so many questions to ask Tougou, so much to tell him, so much to express. Keeping it together in front of everyone was a hard sell after learning your best friend was apparently back from the dead.

He didn’t want to risk his troops misinterpreting Tougou’s affiliation as abandonment. He hadn’t said a word about it except for the fact that he had run into UN soldiers. He kept a low profile travelling to Osaka, not wanting trouble to follow him to what he assumed would be a low key meetup. His attire matched that idea, but a button-up shirt and pants was certainly more comfortable than a suit of armour on a plane, too.

Lars would have preferred if Tougou had told him he was alive all along; send him some secret message if he needed to keep his distance or just come right out with it. Even if the situation miffed him, he knew it was more complicated than what he had been given on the surface. Thankfully, the relief of his existence had long since overwritten any negative sentiment, now he just wanted to see him.

It had taken Lars longer to find Tougou in the lobby than he would have liked. Being part of a military faction with its own aerial transport, he had nearly forgotten how to navigate an airport. All the signage, escalators, and closures due to repairs didn't make it any easier either. When he finally spotted him seated and enjoying a coffee, the half-Swede coughed awkwardly into his fist.

Maybe he’d keep the bit about getting lost to himself.

Tougou turned and began to make his way toward his truck. It may have been foolish to hope that things could be done without relying on the person responsible for how bad things had gotten. Tougou wasn't sure how G Corporation and the Mishima Zaibatsu were worse with Jin more or less out of the picture, but he considered how frazzled the UN was when Jin escaped initially. "Whatever you're doing with Yggdrasil, you do it. When you have the time and one less war criminal in your entourage, book a trip to Osaka only if you've got more questions...or leftover punches to throw. I'll even meet you at the airport." Tougou finished. There were far more important things than Tougou wanting to say he missed his friend, that before Yggdrasil fractured its relations with the UN it was nice to know that Lars had come so far.

“And I would have, had this war still been a conflict between humans,” Lars affirmed, “we need to adapt, and Jin is the key to that.”

If he had it his way, devils and demons would never walk the earth. He had the opportunity to put one in the ground, and he gladly would have, had he not been the only thing giving them a shot at survival.

Lars shifted, attention still on Tougou as he went to retrieve his blade. He knew the UN would poke and prod at his nephew as though he were some lab rat, treat him less than human, as a subject and not a person. That disturbed him, but the nauseating pit in his stomach was born from the thought of what they had done to Tougou. His demise wasn’t at the mercy of one bullet, he had been riddled with them. Any sort of reconstruction would have been excruciating.

“Had the mission not changed, he would have been,” Lars agreed, gloves closing into fists, “I don’t care what they do with him once this is over, I care about what they did to you, Tougou.”

Lars had blood on his hands—most of Yggdrasil did—that meant he wasn’t afraid to venture into the moral grey. All of his actions, no matter how elusive or perverse they might appear, were meant to benefit the greater good in the end. If he had to get his hands dirty in ways that made the political bigwigs squirm in their seats, he’d do it if it meant securing the future. That, and he felt it was his duty to atone for his own sins in some way.

Alas, both men had their own affairs to handle. Tougou returned to his team, offering to meet with Lars in Osaka to have a much needed discussion that didn’t involve tag-alongs and one comatose devil.

Lars nodded his head in acknowledgement, “I’ll be there…”

At least a sliver of trust still existed between them, evident in Tougou’s falsified report about the night’s events. Lars shot his friend an appreciative smirk, but that was also his cue to go. His window was closing, and if the UN had been on his back that quickly, there was no telling when G or the Zaibatsu would show up.

That had been the easiest thing to do for Tougou, considering after he made it back to headquarters and got Six settled into the medbay, his superiors spent a good fifteen minutes telling him how much he'd failed and that there were far better reconnaissance missions that were completed by his colleagues. He remembered keeping Ace from leaping to his defense, and merely taking the scolding on the chin before going to put in for his new suit. Next came the painful hours of alterations to his spine, the approved time away, and Ace's twenty-one million questions about Lars and if this was even a safe option.

"I don't think I've had anybody worry about me this much in a long time." Tougou chuckled into the phone, "I'll be alright, Ace. Lars is...I can trust him, I promise." Tougou wasn't sure how to explain it to Ace, who over time with Six had become staunchly protective of him. They called far too often, especially after he told them he was returning home to Osaka for a little while. He'd only just convinced Six to stop requesting proof of life texts, and for Ace to stop sending him daily mission briefings as if it would convince him to come back earlier. Tougou wouldn't be back anytime soon however; recovery was a requirement in order for his body to adjust properly. This time, instead of recovering mostly by himself, there'd be a time where Lars was here and Tougou wasn't exactly the greatest host. He would have to forgo his usual habits and focus everything on trying to explain the space in time where he was certainly not dead, but definitely keeping tabs on Lars.

It was all so, so agonizing the more Tougou thought about it. He really had been right underneath Lars' nose more often than not, and just like Tougou thought (at least until the whole Jin part came up), his best friend had done well. That was all Tougou ever wanted, and he was content to keep the dog tags and the photograph.

Until he wasn't.

No parting letters, goodbyes, no mourners and no gravestone. No giving Lars a single shred of hope that Tougou could be alive.

Someone forgot to mention to Tougou that certain memories stitch themselves into your being, become a core part of your mind that removing them was impossible to do. Memory shaped Tougou, made his belief in Lars the unwavering kind.

"I look like a child's patchwork project now, but that's one of the prices I had to pay."

The commander hadn’t completely let down his guard, but the rigidity in his shoulders had eased enough to show a reduction in hostility.

Tougou's clothing and equipment hid away whatever frankensteining the UN’s appointed doctors had done to his body, which was probably for the best, considering Lars’ current mental state. Hearing that reignited some of the anger he had experienced before, but also evoked a pang of sadness. Had he done something differently, planned accordingly, would he have been able to prevent this reality?

Finally being offered his former lieutenant’s tags, Lars took a few steps forward to close the gap between them. He raised his hand, not to retrieve the tags, but to push Tougou’s hand back onto his own chest.

“Clean slates aren’t always so clean,” the corner of his lips tugged in melancholy, but the warmth was there, “keep them. I’ll come back for them when I’m supposed to.”

Eyes then shift onto the injuries inflicted upon Tougou’s face from their scuffle. Lars brushed his fingers over one of the lacerations, scrutinizing the blood now smeared on the tips of his glove.

Tougou turned and began to make his way toward his truck. It may have been foolish to hope that things could be done without relying on the person responsible for how bad things had gotten. Tougou wasn't sure how G Corporation and the Mishima Zaibatsu were worse with Jin more or less out of the picture, but he considered how frazzled the UN was when Jin escaped initially. "Whatever you're doing with Yggdrasil, you do it. When you have the time and one less war criminal in your entourage, book a trip to Osaka only if you've got more questions...or leftover punches to throw. I'll even meet you at the airport." Tougou finished. There were far more important things than Tougou wanting to say he missed his friend, that before Yggdrasil fractured its relations with the UN it was nice to know that Lars had come so far.

He so badly wanted to unload the entire magazine, as though it would somehow ease the pain and strife constricting his chest. His finger remained frozen on the trigger.

Lars withheld a response, watching as Tougou fiddled with the padding of his equipment to present him with two items: a familiar photo and his tags.

He never did receive Tougou’s tags; he had been so distraught by the loss that he hadn’t even considered protocol. As twisted and fragmented as some of his memories still were, the one depicted in the photograph was firmly etched into his subconscious.

There was no faking that.

Would killing Tougou bring him closure? Would he be able to move on if he was truly dead? Performed by his own hand?

“I…” Lars hesitated, unsure of how to answer, “I-I don’t know…”

Did he need further convincing? Or did the fear of learning the truth of his companion’s mysterious revival haunt him?

The assuring tone that Lars had grown to regard over the years had slowly persuaded him to holster his pistol, but his questions remained.

No parting letters, goodbyes, no mourners and no gravestone. No giving Lars a single shred of hope that Tougou could be alive.

Someone forgot to mention to Tougou that certain memories stitch themselves into your being, become a core part of your mind that removing them was impossible to do. Memory shaped Tougou, made his belief in Lars the unwavering kind.

"I look like a child's patchwork project now, but that's one of the prices I had to pay."

The blow had put some distance between himself and his opponent. The mangled helmet scored a satisfying mark of progress in the battle; another well placed strike would hopefully be enough to fell him.

The damaged armour faltered in another fashion; the voice barking orders was no longer masked by technology. The stayed command mattered not to Lars, but its timbre did.

The iron focus that had a hold of him began to split at the seams; was this the cruel effects of his past concussion? Did the desert heat bear down on him with such intensity that he was now suffering from hallucinations?

No—he’s gone. Get it together.

He allowed Ace to retreat to aid her comrade, attention unwavering from Tougou’s face as he shed the helmet from his head. For the first time since that life-altering night, Lars’ eyes expressed something other than determination, anger, or resolve.

They showed fear.

“H-how—“ He choked out.

Lars was frozen in a daze, unable to properly think or function; the myriad of emotions wouldn’t allow him so. Turmoil, relief, remorse...confusion. Betrayal—betrayal stuck with him the most.

“Is this—” The words cracked in his throat, “is this some kind of demented joke?!”

His pistol was drawn and pointed to Tougou’s head before he could reconsider, though his aim was flawed and visibly shaky.

“Who the hell are you?! Tougou is dead!” He yelled.

Tougou laughed, audibly. He supposed that was what he could call the many years of friendship now.

Anyone not attached to the Commander of Yggdrasil would have taken the split second to swing the blade forward and pray they struck something vital, but Tougou was far too attached--honestly, he never stopped being that way even when the UN dangled his new lease on life in front of him, kick started his rehabilitation and promoted him. In the end, Tougou still risked his new life for his friend by carefully dropping the breadcrumb of the UN's fumble in the desert thinking that Lars could actually finish the job, and now... Tougou applied more of his weight, and moved the blade so that it instead caught on that tattered half cape of Lars' and he pushed it further into the sand, letting it act as a makeshift pin. Tougou would give that only a few seconds to hold because the sand was already unstable enough. "Jin Kazama should be buried--" Tougou started to say, but he heard his markswoman, Ace, moving, knowing she was aligning herself in a way where she could pull the trigger and strike Lars. There was a reason Tougou asked Ace to come along, but it was so she could be the thousand yard answer to the question of 'who was in the way?'

Ignorant to his identity, the affection that prevented Tougou from inflicting any warranted damage was construed as a fatal mistake. His blade was stabbed down into the mantle draped from Lars’ shoulder instead of flesh, effectively pinning him in place of limbs.

Lars had taken stock of the markswoman too, and in the time it took Tougou to call her off, he thrust his knee into his assailant’s side, giving him the leverage he needed to rip the fabric free from the sword with the maneuver.

Electricity crackled along the length of his arm, concentrating at his fingers, “You should have taken it!”

Lars moved like the lightning that pulsed through his veins, yanking the next soldier forward by the rifle and burying his elbow into the faceplate of their helmet. A pivot of the body sent them careening towards the others.

Two.

The UN soldiers didn’t have the unwavering drive to kill like G or the Tekken Force did, though the notion did little to tone down his ferocity. Lars had every intent to strike down the markswoman as the third, had it not been for the squad leader intercepting him first. The metal soles of his boots scraped and lost footing against the free sand from the impact, and he dropped to the ground like an anvil with the added weight of his aggressor. Lars grunted aggressively from the awkward landing.

Finally processing after the disorienting fall, the other soldier’s words irritated and confused him. What was this false rapport? Even through the digital warp, Lars could pick up on the emotion in his voice. Emotion like this betrayal had been personal.

“You—!” Lars struggled to maneuver off his own arms to brace against Tougou’s blade, “Trust me?! Based on what case study your higher ups have on me?”

The UN had their hands tied by red tape. What nation wanted the stain that was Jin Kazama’s freedom on their hands? Without his so-called abduction, he’d be rotting away in a cell, maybe even have a trial if the people could stomach it. Wasted potential. Wasted opportunity. His life should have been sacrificed righting his wrongs, not discarded in a dark hole.

Tougou laughed, audibly. He supposed that was what he could call the many years of friendship now.

Anyone not attached to the Commander of Yggdrasil would have taken the split second to swing the blade forward and pray they struck something vital, but Tougou was far too attached--honestly, he never stopped being that way even when the UN dangled his new lease on life in front of him, kick started his rehabilitation and promoted him. In the end, Tougou still risked his new life for his friend by carefully dropping the breadcrumb of the UN's fumble in the desert thinking that Lars could actually finish the job, and now... Tougou applied more of his weight, and moved the blade so that it instead caught on that tattered half cape of Lars' and he pushed it further into the sand, letting it act as a makeshift pin. Tougou would give that only a few seconds to hold because the sand was already unstable enough. "Jin Kazama should be buried--" Tougou started to say, but he heard his markswoman, Ace, moving, knowing she was aligning herself in a way where she could pull the trigger and strike Lars. There was a reason Tougou asked Ace to come along, but it was so she could be the thousand yard answer to the question of 'who was in the way?'

“That’s a matter of perspective.” Not the worst he had done. Kidnapping a war criminal was rather tame, wasn’t it?

With an asset as valuable and dangerous as Jin Kazama, he was left questioning why they hadn’t sent their best to apprehend him. Perhaps that was merely Lars underestimating them—the head honcho of the group wasn’t equipped like the others, the majority of his caution would be reserved for him.

There was also the possibility that they had taken a page out of the Tekken Force’s book and planned to tranquilize him; it would make up for the lack of numbers. Seemed he’d need that flashbang after all if he hoped to do any damage in close quarters combat, due to the lack of cover.

Lars told himself to focus, knowing it would only be a matter of time before they closed in on him. Which one appeared to be the most skittish or trigger-happy? Start with the weakest link.

“Yes, he is responsible for all of this,” he kept the conversation going, and a simultaneous analysis of where best to toss the grenade, “but you really believe you can hold him in a cell? Surely you’re aware of what he’s capable of.”

Was the downed chopper not enough?

Is this what Yggdrasil does now, Commander?

It was fleeting, but that pang of doubt had returned. Lars felt as though he was betraying his own morals pulling this stunt. No—he had thought this through; spent days and sleepless nights researching and weighing his options. This was the only way, he would see it through to the end no matter how disgusted and conflicted he felt protecting an enemy.

“My actions appear to contradict our cause and beliefs, but I have my reasons.”

It was time to make a move while he still had the advantage of night.

“—and unfortunately, the UN would just get in the way!” The declaration was punctuated by the flashbang being hurled over the Humvee, exploding blindingly with an ear-piercing percussion.

"Extract Jin Kazama. By any means necessary." Tougou commanded after he stopped to a halt. He took a moment to pressed his gloved right hand against to place where those covered dog tags lay. By now he could make out large tarp, the shape of the Humvee and of course, the man of the hour. With one signal of his left hand, the soldiers hurried out of his truck and toward the campsite.

An all too familiar beep caught his attention.

Glancing to the terminal positioned upright on the stool, the IFF blared in warning. UN signatures. He also picked up on the heavy sound of tread grinding into sand.

He cursed, watching as the blips encroached on his position faster than he could kick the fire out. They hadn’t unleashed a legion upon him? He’d have to shake them off his tail the old-fashioned way.

Lars tossed his supplies back into the vehicle, checking the magazine of the rifle he had pilfered from the events prior. A shootout wasn’t an option, but he’d keep it close to his hip to put some distance between him and his foes if needed.

“Wake up Jin, you’re missing all the action,” Lars hissed through his teeth, bitter that any use he had for the young man was squandered in his current state.

He shut and locked the doors, ducking down behind the Humvee for cover. Lifting his head up high enough to peek through the reinforced glass, his thumb tapped the flashbang between his fingers like a metronome. The objects of his disdain slowed to a halt, the distinguished uniforms of the UN filling his sights.

@teslagravity

One of Tougou's surbordinates told him that one day he wouldn't be able to play keep-away for much longer, that he would slip up and make a mistake. Tougou would usher the lower ranking officer away with a command to complete some unnecessary debriefing and take the moment for himself to make his way down the hall and toward his office.

It wasn’t only the UN that Lars had to worry about, but G Corp and the Zaibatsu as well. All attention went skyward, the organizations seeking to intercept his extraction. He made the executive decision to continue traveling via ground transport until he could assure leaving the country meant as few casualties as possible.

All of this disorder for Jin Kazama.

Lars could only scoff at the thought that one man could flip the world on its head like this. He was risking hard-built trust, reputation, and allies for the chance of bringing this war to a prompt end. It was a precarious operation, one that Lars took upon himself as to not risk the lives of his men or the absolute success of the mission.

A soldier’s patience was often exercised, but did he ever want to be out of this sandy, arid climate. His skin, and the sun-scorched titanium armour now irritating it, yearned for the frigid embrace of his motherland in its place.

He’d endure the night for now.

Home was a camouflage tarp concealing his overclocked Humvee—Jin’s comatose form slumped over the passenger seat—and a retractable stool. The proximity to civilization made it so his makeshift camp wouldn't draw unwanted attention.

His profession accustomed him to less than ideal conditions; he only wished he had the choice to tolerate it with someone worthier. Quiet nights like this by a smoldering fire had him reminiscing similar events involving company, mainly his troops, and a certain lieutenant he held dear.

In their presence, his confidence and surety was unmistakable. When Lars was alone, alone with him, he was the one to lift the rose-coloured glasses from his eyes. Decipher between a reckless act and a logical one. What do you think? Was this right?

Lars lowered the water flask from his lips, staring pensively at the crackling flames lapping at his feet.

“…Is this right, Tougou?” He mused under his breath, as though his late partner had the ability to respond.

"Extract Jin Kazama. By any means necessary." Tougou commanded after he stopped to a halt. He took a moment to pressed his gloved right hand against to place where those covered dog tags lay. By now he could make out large tarp, the shape of the Humvee and of course, the man of the hour. With one signal of his left hand, the soldiers hurried out of his truck and toward the campsite.