BURNING VENGEANCE

“Oh god, no… Kaz. You shouldn’t have to.” Snake gave him a hearty laugh, ignoring the bottle of beer to pull Kaz into a tight hug instead. “Mmm, thank you. I don’t celebrate my birthday, but this is very kind of you. And the men…” He stepped back, finally accepting the bottle with a grin. He looked around, raising it to his soldiers. “Without you, I’d be nothing. This is for you, MSF. Cheers.” Then, he gulped a large amount of beer, patting his hand on Kaz’s shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe,” Kaz hummed before pulling away, “but I wanted to.” With his toast, the ranks broke out in a roar of celebratory cheer, the sound enough to well up pride in their bones. The party began in full volume then, a reprieve well earned after such long days. Snake should enjoy this. “Hold on. I’m not finished with you yet,” Kaz said before either could be swept away, motioning over to the railings overlooking the waters. Fishing out a wrapped gift hidden by the tables, inside resting a knife tanto, he handed it over, amicably adding, “Take it. And don’t laugh-- I actually put some thought into it, alright?”

"Welcome home, Boss.” MSF was decked out in decorations, little streamers and twinkling lights hanging overhead. It cast the base in a delightful glow of colors, and despite the loud music pounding in the background, it did precious little to offset the booming ‘Happy Birthday!’ of their soldiers. It was a surprise all orchestrated from Miller himself, Kaz searching for approval in his boss’s face at being thrown into such grand festivities. He knew Snake wasn’t much of a party man, but this was special, and Kaz spared no expense. “Didn’t think I forgot, did you?” he asked with a sharp grin, a bottle of his favorite beer offered with a small shake. “Happy Birthday.”

      “ Ah, I can think of plenty of reasons to refuse a pretty girl’s          attention… but maybe that’s just me thinking out loud! “

     A short, softly boastful sort of laugh slipped through her smile,       a mischievous glint now shimmering in her eyes. Of course       she was just playing with him, though how well she wasn’t sure.      This wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for her. It certainly       wasn’t every day someone could so thoroughly capture her      interest, even in the most shallow of ways, though she was      convinced this was more than just a shallow interest.

      “ So since I have your attention, can I ask your name? “

His laugh was pleasant and short, and with the lilt in his words an effortless sway, he answered, “I’m willing to take my chances.” Brave soul.

Pretty girls, after all, were dangerous. If he weren’t careful, they could wrap him around their finger, too weak to resist and so easy to deceive, but if dazzling her company came so naturally to her, rest assured, so it did to him. Yet, all the same, he had to give her credit, and she needn’t worry: As of right now, she had him hooked. 

“Kaz.” A hand on his shoulder. Gentle, and friendly as it could ever be. Snake leaned in and said with a warm voice. “Lighten up.” That may be impossible, but it wouldn’t be out of Snakes mindset to at least try. 

“Catching up is fine, but you’re going to eat with me and we’ll have more than one round… but we’ll see how things go. You kill my buzz too much and I’ll just send you back to your quarters with a doggy bag and nothing else.” 

He gave him a pat on the shoulder mid walk away.  “I’ll go to the mess hall and get my good beer… What do you want?”

He worried for him, and Kaz couldn’t protest. More than anyone, Boss knew how guilty he was of working himself to death, and dutiful or not, his stresses couldn’t be any more visible. 

Yet, Snake’s word was the only one he tolerated. Laughing, the sound was little more than a breathy exhale. Already with the threats. “Non-negotiable, huh?” he surmised.

The previous night was blessed by a storm that EVA thought she would never see—complete with howling winds and a merciless rain that rattled the windows of her hotel room with the force of the drops. As a result from the downpour her boots were sinking in the mud at FOXHOUD’s training grounds and the residual wind was almost testing the balance of the rookies there. What a mighty fine day for the booming voice of Master Miller, properly amplified by a megaphone, to resonate over the field. Those poor boys and girls were pushing themselves as hard as they could, and yet the blonde instructor seemed unfazed by their struggle. The spy laughed, graciously standing beside him and handing him a warm thermal mug of Chai Latte. “Is it too late to wish you a Happy Birthday, Master Miller? I got caught in a business transaction and couldn’t make it in time.”

Misery was rampant today, and the suffering of these rookies saturated the air with it. Fighting through their torturous miles, their bodies began to ache and protest, but in the face of their Hell Master, not a soul dared complain. The agony, however, rang loudly all the same, outdone only by a single voice. Well, wasn’t this odd?

Ebony felt nothing but the recoil hitting her somewhere in her left shin and the sharp impact with the ground. She knew that something was up before she’d even opened her eyes again, and there was a brief moment of bewilderment and sifting through memories before she caught on.

“Listen to me!” She stepped forward, her eyes wide but her jaw set with determination. The news never went over smoothly, and she’d thought it better to simply show him what was the case, but it’d become pretty clear that she’d made a mistake. “I told you that I’m a Weapon and that I’m not a human. I didn’t know you would expect me to be a different kind of weapon.” What kind of details had been in the information he’d gotten about her beforehand? Ebony couldn’t recall. She shook her head. “I’m a subspecies of Demons; a Weapon. Literally. My Masters are the people who wield me. They have some power over me, enough to force me into my pistol form when they want me to. That’s why the bond is so important.”

Ebony seemed to calm down considerably, although she felt a dull ache beneath her fingers when she brushed them over her forehead. “I’m sorry, but there was a chance that if I told you first you wouldn’t even agree to this anymore. When, really, there are a lot of benefits. I fire fast and a lot of the recoil goes to me, not you. Other people can use me, too, and I want to help.”

The words surrounding Ebony were poetry, and she’d become a romanticized figure of war. They’d said she was a killer, a “Weapon” capable of cruel violence. When they spoke of demons, it was an extension of her bloody reputation. Of course, Kaz hadn’t any reason to take them literally, more inclined to believe they were tales woven in admiration.

Kaz looked her over. Flesh, bones, and blood? Weren’t demons the vision of horror?

“Soldiers are weapons - that’s what they say,” he argued. “I didn’t have a reason to suspect anything. Besides, you should hear what they say about you. You wouldn’t be our first legend.” However, Ebony was sincere if nothing else, and though his mind continued to wrestle with his thoughts, Kaz began to calm. All of this information would require time to digest. “But you proved your point: You’re nothing I’ve ever seen before.” And if she required a handler to fire, she herself was no threat to him. Odd how a demon appealed to him far better than the Parasites... At least she felt human. “Fine, but next time we talk, I expect every last detail.” And they had a lot of time to get to know one another.

          A network, virtually untraceable for the sheer amount of diversions created through each and every steps of a slow, tedious, process, ensuring matters of the highest confidentiality would remain as such, between solely their interested parties, had now fulfilled its purpose. It was loathing that seized him at the mere reminder that it was one of Zero’s numerous arrangements, ones a deceiver would play his own scripted part in, a leading, yet covert, role, for one man’s sake: Big Boss, an eminent soldier dead to the eyes of the world, sunk at the bottom of the ocean floor alongside the ruins of his ambitions. A LEGEND will rise once more, no matter the means he, they, were to resort to, regardless of the excruciating wait they would go through. 

                                                              He will rise. 

          Distaste, however, hardly erased his appreciation of skill, masterful being the sole adjective coming to mind as countless of convulsed procedures had lead to a long overdue, encounter in the utmost secrecy with whom had stood next to John himself as the sub-commander of Militaires Sans Frontières. HOW IRONIC, had it been for circumstances he had not once dared envision, (although they had never been an impossibility), to be the start of a collaboration he was certain would to last for months, YEARS, between him and none other than Kazuhira Miller, men of war brought together though loyalty to a comatose “friend”. An abandoned Soviet facility in Cuba had been their rendez-vous point, a handful of officers belonging to the Ocelot unit having followed their Major patrolling the jungle to ensure no mouse attempted snooping around, albeit more as a preventive measure to a near non-existent threat. “So we meet at last, Kazuhira Miller. The name’s Ocelot. I’m your contact.” 

They told him to wait, and wait he did. For years his patience was tried, each passing day without him an ache he could barely stomach. But he was a loyal friend, and if being separated kept him safe, he’d stay on this foreign land and wage his war alone. Day in and day out Kaz’s faith was tested, haunted by the question “Is he okay?” regardless of the patience demanded of him. Do it for Boss, they’d say, and he couldn’t refuse.

First, he grew up without his dad. He was raised in a very homogeneous society in Japan, and with his blond hair and blue eyes, he must have felt isolated. At age ten, his mother had fallen gravely ill and became bedridden, leaving Kaz to tend to himself and her. Ultimately, he would leave his mom (and I don’t think Kaz relishes in that fact; I believe he very much cared for his mother, and that the feeling was mutual) to find his father, believing America would be a home better suited for him.

It wasn’t, and he even confesses that he never felt at home in either Japan or America.

However, the Vietnam War would break out, and while he was still living in the states, his father would sink into depression. His half-brother was killed in battle, and the divorce between Kaz’s father and stepmother had left his American home empty and dark. Packing up, he would return to Japan to find that his mother had completely forgotten who he was. Her illness claimed her memories.

Eventually, he’d enlist in the JDSP to care for her, and when her ailing health ultimately claimed her life, he learned his father had committed suicide. So, after all those years of feeling out of place and feeling like he didn’t belong, he was now by himself. He later became a mercenary travelling the world, never settling and finding jobs.

Then MSF came around and he found purpose with Big Boss. MSF was where he finally felt he had a right to be. Come 1975, however, it would burn into the sea, and both he and Boss would end up in the hospital. Kaz didn’t want to sleep, wanted to see Boss and make sure he was okay, but the doctors didn’t give him that chance and the chemicals pulled him under. When he came to, Boss was gone, and he was told he couldn’t see him yet. He had to wait. Kaz hated the news, but he accepted it. 

Nine years later, he thought he’d finally had his reunion with the legend himself, but later learned that wasn’t the case. To him, he’d been abandoned nine years ago, back on that night when MSF went up in flames, but it doesn’t hit him until 1984.

He later left the Diamond Dogs, maybe because it just didn’t feel right anymore. Maybe because Venom was still following Big Boss like the loyal soldier he was, and Kaz couldn’t stomach it; it made him sick and he wasn’t going to willingly stay in a situation like that. He lived his life alone until he married his wife, Nadine. The relationship didn’t last, however, and the two eventually split, Kaz seeing his daughter Catherine only a few times a month.

Then, there we have it: Alaska. Kaz stayed in the cold arctic for the remainder of his life, alone with nothing but the cold winds until he’s killed in 2005.

Like, Kaz, dude, you’ve got some heavy baggage on your shoulders. I think being alone sort of suits Kaz in a way, but had he a choice - had he felt he had a choice - I don’t think he would have ever chosen this life for himself. I still don’t find him to be a man that sulks and laments openly about it (he’ll stick with being more introspective), but, you know, on some days, I think he would think on these things, and none too happily. When he was a young man in his 20s, being alone was overshadowed by his thirst for revenge. When he aged into his 30s and as the years progressed, that revenge darkened, and with it were the pangs of feeling used and abandoned. When he’d reached his late 40s, I don’t find it odd to believe he was done with vengeance and that bitter hatred. He’d spent a majority of his life furious and unhappy, and I fully believe a large part of him just wanted to be rid of it. I mean, honestly, how long can you let that stuff eat you up?

“Commander Miller, sir!”

Despite her veterinary vocation, Stella had always been a soldier at heart, and snapping to the sharp salute in front of the Commander felt good. She rarely got to see him here on the Eco Platform, so his presence felt like something of a special occasion. 

It didn’t help that she could also count herself among the many on Mother Base absolutely smitten with the lion-like man; thus, her desire to impress was at an all-time high today.

“Something I can do for you, sir?”

Coming to the conservatory was a hassle. Time was a commodity Kaz hadn’t the luxury to spare so willingly, and already caught up in countless other matters, seeing how well fed their countless hordes of sheep and vultures didn’t quite register on his list of concerns. 

However, this was revenue, and, regardless, the platform’s stationed soldiers were deserving of a morale boost. Looking to her, his silence was an “at ease,” the man wordless as he approached.

“I can tell you that a painkiller won’t be enough no matter how many.” A light chuckle escaped Elijah’s lips as he strode over to a counter, pulling out some bandaging and a form of cream before walking over. “So did you actually get hit by a truck, or did something else happen to do this to you? Also this might string.” Might was putting it mildly as the cream was dappled onto the forming bruises.

Taking his attention away from the current solider that was being handed a cup of water, Elijah took one look at Kaz and had a pretty good guess what had transpired to earn so many markings. Yet the Medic kept quiet while striding over to a nearby open bed, patting it lightly for Kaz to take a seat on. “Always.”

Being at Mother Base caught Snakes attention. He wasn’t a big fan of coming along, he really tried to avoid it, but Ocelot was the one inviting him. Well, Venom was gone, it was night and some Soldiers wouldn’t take a closer look at him since most of them didn’t know when Venom would be back. Straight, not to be seen, John made his way to Ocelots office, only an odd sound made him slow down a bit and with perfect timing he turned his head only to see the person he wanted to avoid the most. Kaz. This base was huge and still both of them managed to run into each other at the very first moment he had sat a foot on this place. What a bad coincidence. “… you still know my name, Kaz”, he greeted him, but stayed at his place. Seeing this man let strange feels coming up, whatever had happened, Boss missed him, had planned on giving him the second in command for his new nation - and now Kaz hated him. Well, he deserved it.

It’s you. That was a voice he used to associate with home, with comfort and hope. However, that was before, back when their days were bright and simple - back when they were simple. “You don’t call me that.” But, today, things were different, and their relationship couldn’t be any more twisted, the perversion of what they once had making him fume.

“And don’t insult me.” Hearing him speak, Kaz willed himself to approach. Each step was a challenge, and the feeling welling inside him was no longer that of admiration, but that of the most wretched disgust. “I won’t ever forget it.” 

“Come on, Boss!” It was bright the way he wore that grin, the hanging party lights practically dull in comparison. In hand was a bottle of alcohol, sake if Kaz had his way, the man approaching his commander with arms outstretched. “We celebrate birthdays only twelve times a year. Enjoy it. It’s not going to hurt you,” he reassured lamely. “I promise.”