#kaiju8

Eventually, completely winded, Mallory sat back and allowed herself a handful of sobs before taking in her surroundings again. Even with every semblance of strength seemingly gone, she couldn’t help but look at Takeshi with gratitude. He looked back with a mixture of pride and concern, nodding to urge her to take off her headphones, looking out of breath himself. They both swallowed, trying to ground themselves.

”So,” Mallory strained, “Anything?”

“Uh,” Takeshi shifted in his seat, pressing a handful of buttons on the console and adjusting his earpiece, ”You heard the thing about Kaiju Number Eight, right?”

She took a moment to remember what he was talking about, nodding once she did. Kafka Hibino, who was only recently promoted to officer, transformed into the elusive and confounding beast ranked amongst the most powerful Kaiju of recent memory. Scattered pieces from a recent mission report come to her mind: deliberate avoidance of lethal damage; intervened to protect officers; had human-like responses during combat. There were reports from Logistics that Takeshi finally gained access to, describing the incident in which this very Kaiju had been first identified, something she hoped would give her some semblance of an understanding of what this creature could be. Now, even with this revelation being as confounding as it was, Mallory couldn’t help but be thankful that this beast, this mystery, could be talked to. Maybe.

“Wheels already turning, Director?” Takeshi smirked at her before looking out the window.

”Apparently,” she scoffed, finally putting her earpiece back in.

Not far off, Kafka stood from the divot his fall made in the ground as his peers and superiors rose to their feet. Soshiro’s heart was in his throat while Mina’s beat a million miles a minute, weapon in her hand but not quite drawn. It was too quiet. Everyone could practically hear their own breathing. Still, Mina did what she had to and got Kafka taken into custody even as a thousand questions piled up in her mind. Soshiro couldn’t even look at him as he stalked past, taller and radiating power he recognized. Soshiro struggled to figure out what angered him more: being lied to or not being able to kill this creature he’d sworn to take down, one that just barely escaped him.

From JCPI, Miyu’s voice cut into his ears: “Anyone have a visual on the Comms Director and Officer Omura?”

Mind already spinning, he turned, hand to his temple. Why would we have visuals? They’re– wait.

“What?” Soshiro bluntly asked in response.

Konomi is equally as shocked, explaining, “Officer Omura got clearance to get on the field with Director Abe. They were in a military vehicle–”

“–They what?” He cut her off, head whipping around to see, gesturing to one of the platoon leaders, “Have you seen a–”

“–Yes, Sir.” Itakura answered before he could finish. “I’m on it.”

“Good.” Soshiro nods, watching him get a few people.

“Director, Officer, do you copy?” Miyu chimes in again.

Feedback. Dull yet poignant feedback was the only response anyone heard. With fewer soldiers around, no one needing directives, and Mina having to deal with the massive liability they’ve unknowingly held within their ranks, Soshiro sat against a half-crumpled structure and closed his eyes. Adrenaline was wearing off. His muscles ached and burned for relief he was, frankly, owed hours ago but couldn’t allow. He could taste the blood and sweat around his mouth; coppery, dirty, sharp. Why wasn’t anything coming through? Why the hell would they get on the field when… Well, we all thought we were in the clear. Of course we weren’t, but. He thought of Mina reminding him that it wasn’t just his Division that saw him fight: “I doubt she enjoyed that. … Put yourself in her shoes.” He worked desperately not to consider the worst possible scenario, to not preemptively prepare for tragedy like he’d trained himself to do out of self-preservation. Now he truly recognized the depths of his own hypocrisy; his warnings to his officers now felt that much more foolish as Soshiro reckoned with the fact that he could have very well lost someone tonight, and the last thing she would’ve seen of him was him fighting for his life. His eyes burned, even while shut, as he maintained his steady breathing. Will Takeshi’s kids and ex-wife get the call no one ever wants to give? Would Soshiro have to be the one to tell them? Who would tell Mallory’s father? Would Miyu take her place, as Mallory did her predecessor’s during a sudden exit, setting a precedent that the role is taken on in crisis? Will they find her body under the rubble, earpiece shattered, her cherry-brown hair greyed with dirt and dust instead of the age she was supposed to make it to? 

His chest hollowed, letting a breath out through his nose as he remembered her last message before the evening really took its turn, before she probably rolled her eyes at him bringing up HR: 

It was the stupid little emoji that welled a sob in his throat, wetting his eyes just enough for him to squeeze them shut that much tighter. He’d seen Mallory look like that: smiling, blushing, happy to be near him. He’d dreamt of her completely at ease and standing close, holding his hands with no hesitation. No hesitation, he whispered only to himself, you were supposed to stop being such a coward. She deserved that much. You–

“Vice-Captain!” Called a voice through his earpiece, making his eyes shoot open, but he couldn’t stand up to match that urgency. It was all just too much, too real, to move so quickly for. So, after a breath, he replied.

“Yes?”

“Director Abe and Officer Omura are uninjured. The JLTV was able to sustain the damage.”

Soshiro wiped his face, laughing with relief. “Great, uh–”

“–Medical’s on the ground, Sir. Standby.”

“Good, good,” he sighed, forcing himself up, “Thank you.”

Even with reality no longer aligning with where his imagination ran to, even as medics got him on a gurney and began assessing the damage he had taken, Soshiro couldn’t relax. Itakura wouldn’t lie; he knew that well enough. Still, the image of Mallory crushed under the damage caused by that bomb wouldn’t disappear from the forefront of his mind. He had, finally, understood what she must’ve felt like in the heat of his battle: powerless to intervene and regretting every lost opportunity to tell the truth. 

Stepping out of the JLTV, knees shaking, Mallory met the eyes of one of the platoon leaders, who offered her a hand. Pride sufficiently vanquished, she accepted it as she made it to the ground, shoulders sore and lungs exhausted.

“How’re you feeling, Director Abe?” He asked, seemingly unaware of how complicated a question he was really asking. 

She narrowed her gaze, trying to remember his name as she instinctively put her hands in her pockets, fiddling with her earpiece’s case. “I’m here, which is a start.”

“You injured at all? Disoriented?” He continued, gesturing to the EMTs. Her eyes darted to them, body tensing as they approached with caution. “Forgive me, but uh–”

“–I’m… exhausted.” She breathed. “It’s been a long night. Beyond that,” she eyes her surroundings, the pockets of commotion in the distance she couldn’t discern, “yeah.”

The platoon leader nodded, getting one from one of his peers before updating his leadership: “Director Abe and Officer Omura are uninjured.” They both looked at the vehicle behind her, sturdy but having taken quite the beating, “The JLTV was able to sustain the damage.” Mallory watched his eyes look firmly ahead, listening intently before adding, “Medical’s on the ground, Sir. Standby.”

As she and Takeshi were examined, given water, and walked through the typical protocol, she tried to check in with Miyu but only got feedback in her earpiece. She scrunched her brows, looking to Takeshi for an explanation.

“You hearing anything?” He asked after a long sip of water, crumpling the plastic in his hand and handing it back to the tech.

“Not in this thing,” Mallory took her earpiece out, putting it in its case with a huff, “What gives? Yours work okay?”

“So far,” he yawned and rolled his shoulders, “Everyone’s up to speed.”

“Good,” she looked at her hands, the ground, then the tech who’d done her workup as she typed up everything on her tablet nearby. Mallory just barely reached out, hoping to get her attention.

“Yes, Director?” She looked up, ponytail brushing off her shoulder as their eyes met. Mallory read her name tag a few times, hoping to memorize it.

“Is anyone seriously hurt?”

“No ma’am,” Pausing her task, Yuna clicked the screen of her tablet off and came toward Mallory in a gentle but cautious way. Mild injuries at most, from what we can gather.”

She could tell Yuna was observing her like a deer in the woods, not wanting to startle or spook her. Mallory would laugh if she weren’t so tired. “What, uh, what about Soshiro?”

Mallory knew this would give everyone around her pause. While her typical inhibitions were far beyond her priority, this seeming slip was purposeful. She knew that whatever she did right now would be spread around, not even in a gossipy sort of way. She figured the medics would talk amongst themselves, then their superiors; those superiors would have an inherent connection to those Mallory and Soshiro worked with; the ecosystem was vast but interconnected. The long and short of it was that people talk, so her using his first name would mean several things: their relationship was sincere, her concern for his well-being went beyond professional bounds, and that this event affected her. Her goal was simple: make others believe in them, and remind them how human they really are. With how sore her throat was, her earpiece not working, and so much about what she thought she knew being completely turned on its head, something about maintaining the notion of being unbreakable felt that much more disingenuous. The mask she’d immaculately designed over the course of her tenure felt that much more constricting as any ounce of motivation to maintain it vanished with the detonated bomb that shook the ground they now stood on. 

Surprised, Yuna softened, saying, “He took more damage, but he’s acclimated with his suit enough that we trust he’ll make a full recovery.”

Mallory nodded as Yuna returned to task, glancing to everyone else for a moment before meeting Takeshi’s eyes again. He smiled at her, seemingly proud of her choice, and she winced a smile back. He chuckled lowly, knowing this wasn’t something she did lightly. Still, it was nice to know she listened to him for once and was stepping out of her comfort zone that much more. He always knew she could.

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