fic for natsunonamae (5/5)

[nino-mod.livejournal.com]

For: natsunonamae
From: 64907

Part 4


Aiba was right about the place being barren; nothing but rubble and concrete and remnants of urbanization lying everywhere Nino looks. The sun shines over their heads, casting large shadows onto the ground and making them feel like they’re formidable, but the signs of ruin everywhere they look remind them of what they lost.

Underneath each block, each chunk of collapsed concrete and every piece of shattered glass, Nino wonders if all of these put together paint a picture of the hopes his countrymen lost, a memento from the aftermath of the disruption of peace. The Jaegers were created to provide a spark of hope for the people, to give people something to believe in despite the impending doom that no one foresaw until it came, but how many people saw the machines for what they truly were? How many people saw that the Jaegers were just buying everyone time as the enemy plotted mankind’s demise with each passing day, each passing wave?

How many people’s dreams were destroyed by the Jaegers being eventually overpowered?

Nino wonders about all those people they failed to save. He stands in solidarity with everyone who fought now, and he shares the brunt of their regret, their guilt at being unable to do anything, at being too late. He wonders what all those people thought before the destruction came falling from the sky and shut whatever window to a future they were looking at. They were all unprepared and even if someone had warned them about doomsday, no one could have imagined it would come in the hands of colossal monsters from outer space.

The Sentinel along with six other Jaegers trudges forward, and Nino can see the remains of the collapsed subway underneath their feet, the shattered entryways and the dust and concrete surrounding them. How many people were trapped in there while he was being shuffled in the back of the truck many years ago? He looks around or as much as the Sentinel’s viewscreen allows him to, and he wonders if Japan can haul itself back up, if it can rebuild itself using the destroyed dreams and forgotten hopes of its people.

He’s aware that Jun can sense his emotions and all of his doubts. Jun doesn’t say anything though, because Nino knows he’s also wondering about the same things. They’re in the capital of a once proud nation, and everywhere they look lies nothing but reminders of everything they lost, of everything they had to sacrifice to get to where they are.

They reach the edge of Koto when the first kaiju appears, its roar so deafening that it definitely alerted all the other kaijus in the surrounding areas of their presence. Through the comms, Aiba’s voice confirms it’s a category II, and the Cruiser sets to handle it with Diablo as its backup. Everyone is on high-alert now, knowing that what lies next is Sumida, and what’s coming is them fighting not for their lives but for a future they once lost sight of.

Nino stops thinking and just acts. He stops minding the technicalities, the chances of him and Jun making it, the possibility that Sho is wrong and there’s nothing out there but death. He stops worrying about what’s coming and focuses instead on what’s happening, if only to assure himself that he’s in the moment and he’s living in it with Jun by his side.

They slash a category I’s head off as they continue forward, the Sentinel’s A.I. reminding them of the state of their weaponry. They’re all walking in the middle of the hive and it’s suicide no matter how Nino looks at it, but he’s done with being realistic about these things.

Maybe he acquired a bit of Sho and Ohno’s idealism because of their association. Maybe he’s being an idealist for holding on to a spark that has a high chance of being extinguished if he loses focus for a moment.

He finds that he doesn’t care what he is, not anymore. He’s in the Sentinel and he’s in the Sentinel with Jun, and no matter what the skies throw at them, Nino thinks he has a chance of fighting back, of standing up. They’ve been pushed past their defenses, past their limits. He’s had to face himself, his own worst enemy, to stand here beside Jun.

He will fight for that until the very end. It’s a privilege to be here with Jun, to carry the forgotten dreams and aspirations of a damaged nation. He may not be the person who helped reclaim six prefectures, but he’s here now in a Jaeger and it’s enough to tell him that he has a shot, no matter how small it seems to be.

The Sentinel is limping and they’ve lost the Inferno and the Diablo in Ishiwara by the time they see it. In the place where Tokyo Sky tree once stood is a raised platform surrounded by monsters Nino only thought he saw in mangas and games he bought in Akihabara. They’re the category V’s Ohno talked about, but instead of a kaiju of a higher category behind them, Nino sees a smaller, spindly creature similar to an aquatic being, its head elongated.

“Sho-chan,” he murmurs as he and Jun fire a plasma cannon at the head of a category III standing in their way, “you were right all along.”

Nino doesn’t know what to call it, but its appearance is even more otherworldly than the kaijus Nino has seen. It’s clearly the puppet master, its crab claw-like feet moving constantly behind its three bodyguards.

Sho was right about the kaijus protecting one thing, but he was wrong about what they were protecting. It’s Jun who realizes it first, but because they’re in a meld Nino follows his train of thought almost immediately, knowing that Jun is right. The queen behind the category V’s is constantly in movement because it’s building something, a series of protruding columns made of biological material, its tips pointed toward the skies.

“Oh shit,” Nino mutters as he and Jun slash a tentacle trying to wrap itself around the limbs of the Sentinel. “It’s… they’re building a portal.”

It can’t be anything else. He’s suddenly swept by an overwhelming feeling of dread at the implications of what they’re seeing. If the kaijus all over the world are indeed congregating in certain places in different countries, then their kind are building structures to act as a one massive portal upon its completion. Falling from the sky like meteors wasn’t enough for them, and years of destruction was apparently too slow of a progress in their mission to colonize Earth. They intend to send the rest of their biological weapons and kind by opening a portal from their dimension leading to Earth.

“It’s a bridge,” Jun says as they block consecutive blows delivered by a kaiju tail aiming for the Sentinel’s head. “They’re creating structures all over the planet to construct one massive bridge, one that leads from there to here.”

If the bridge is completed, Nino knows they’re all done for. The Jaegers were created to beat the kaijus, but the kaijus were simply the biological weaponry of the true monsters. Whatever’s behind those category V’s that’s moving steadily and with precision, its kind is the one that wants the Earth for themselves. The kaijus are just the stepping stones to their goal of dominating the planet, bioengineered soldiers whose purpose is to do all the dirty work. They were just paving the way for the grand plan, the promise of absolute annihilation.

Somehow, even with the Sentinel’s collapsing functionality and unstable left leg, they manage to make it close to where Sky tree once stood with Thunderbolt, Cruiser, and one of Korea’s Jaegers by their side. They’re all in awful condition, and Nino wonders how long they’ll last. There are three category V’s standing between them and the half-complete gateway and its engineer.

“Shun and I plan to dance,” Ikuta says through the comms, and from his right, Nino sees Jun shutting his eyes briefly in understanding. “We’re in bad shape anyway, worse than you lot. Might as well try to take one of the bastards down with us.”

Nino has never known Ikuta nor his partner Oguri long enough, but he has stood with them in this last chance that he knows there’s no other way except respect the decisions of his fellow rangers.

“So make sure you get that one, all right?” Oguri says, pertaining to the queen, before the Cruiser charges, and Nino knows they only have a few moments, a bit of time left to move closer to aim for their target. They run the opposite direction as the Cruiser’s battle cry rings in their ears, and Nino shuts his eyes when the comms go static.

“This is Kato from the Thunderbolt,” is what pierces through the intercoms next, “and we’ve still got four anti-Kaiju missiles functioning. No time to talk because we’re already locked and loaded, but Koyama and I here wish best of luck to you boys. Korea, you’re with us to try and hold those monsters down, buy us a bit of time.”

It happens quickly. The Sierra Thunderbolt fires its missiles as the Jaeger from Korea tackles a category V to render it immobile. Its exploded innards paint its surroundings cyan, and that’s all Nino gets to see because he and Jun are charging towards the platform.

They don’t have any functional weapons. The plasma cannons of the Sentinel are empty, and they used all their missiles to blow up a category IV with sharp spines and lizard-like appearance from earlier. The Sentinel’s A.I. warns them of the other category V still moving behind them, and when Nino checks the comms, there’s nothing but static from Thunderbolt’s side.

“Don’t turn,” Jun says just as he was thinking it. “Don’t look back. We go forward. They want us to go forward. Don’t look back, Kazu. We don’t have time.”

Through the comms, he can hear Ohno warning them that they only have one shot, and the only weapon they have at their disposal is the Sentinel’s reactor. Nino resigns himself to it as they run, knowing that there’s a kaiju behind them and even if it’s slowed down, they have no capabilities of subduing it if it catches up to them.

The plan is simple and he feels Jun’s resignation mingling with his through the drift. They’re sprinting now despite the Sentinel’s broken ankle, making their way towards the queen and its half-complete infrastructure as they overload the reactor. Hopefully they get a few seconds before the Sentinel blows up, but whatever happens, Nino prepares himself for it.

He has Jun. Jun is with him throughout this, after everything. If they go down, then they go down with the bridge collapsing with them. It won’t be a bad way to go.

“I never answered your question,” Jun says as the Sentinel A.I. tells them that they’re a minute from impact and the reactor is reaching critical levels, “but I didn’t return any chocolates on White Day. I liked my kindergarten teacher and none of my classmates, so I never gave back any when White Day came.”

Nino finds himself laughing. “Heartbreaker Matsumoto,” he says, “with your big smile and honest eyes and menacing eyebrows. Certified lady-killer.”

They’re only a few feet away from the queen and he and Jun dive for it, pinning the creature’s form underneath the Sentinel’s bulk as they hear the roar of the category V behind them. They’re a few seconds from blowing up, but Nino waits until the kaiju’s close enough before he jabs an elbow into the console to his right, enabling Jun’s escape pod.

“No, Nino, what are you—” is all Jun gets to say because his drivesuit detaches itself from the clamp and the pod rises to envelop him completely. Nino hits the ‘eject’ button forcefully, and he senses Jun’s shock followed by anger and panic in the last few seconds that they’re connected.

He meets Jun’s worried and fearful eyes with determination, and he shoots Jun a brief salute, something Jun is undoubtedly familiar with given all the memories they’ve shared in all of their drifts. Jun’s eyes are fierce and intense, just like everything else about him, and Nino commits the image to memory.

He smiles as the pod drops in the opened escape hatch, knowing that Jun will definitely hate him for what he did, but at least Jun’s safe now. The Sentinel’s A.I. indicates the ejection of the pod as it counts down to the seconds, and one of the sensors that are still functioning tells him that the launch pod landed far from where they are, far enough that the incoming nuclear blast from the Sentinel won’t reach it.

The effect of losing Jun in the cockpit is immediate. Nino gets a sudden influx of neural load, threatening to shatter his concentration and make him lose it. He blinks furiously despite his eyes burning, tears caught at the edges of his eyelids. He keeps the queen pinned under him as it thrashes wildly and lets out a shrill scream that threatens to split Nino’s ears. Its claw-like feet kick him repeatedly, scratching the plating on the Sentinel but Nino holds his ground, knowing that it won’t be long.

Nino doesn’t have time, but he has to make sure that this creature, its gateway, and its weapon are going down with the Sentinel. When he feels the category V pouncing on him he shuts his eyes and pounds on the console one last time, just a few seconds before the reactor overheats and finally explodes.

--

Nino’s not aware how long he’s out.

He opens his eyes only to close them again, suddenly blinded by the rays of sunlight. There’s something on top of him that keeps him from moving and when he reaches up to cover his eyes, he finds that his helmet is gone.

Suddenly, there are hands on his face. Familiar, trembling hands with gentle caresses despite their calloused palms, thumbs stroking his cheeks, his forehead, the corners of his eyes.

“You really like me helpless and trapped under your weight,” he grunts, cracking one eye open to look at Jun’s face. Of course it’s Jun. Jun always finds him first, after all. In the combat halls when they first met, in hangar as he looked at the Sentinel and wondered about his sister, even in the drift.

Jun seems to uncoil upon meeting his eyes, his shoulders slumping in relief as his worry gradually disappears from his face. His is exactly the face Nino wanted to see first from the moment he opened his eyes to a new day. “What,” he huffs, "you couldn’t wait till we’re back in Osaka?”

Jun delivers a playful punch to his armored chest. It doesn’t hurt, but since Nino’s feeling good about actually surviving, he groans exaggeratedly. “This is how you repay the guy who saved your ass? Seriously? Not bragging, Matsumoto, but I got you out and nuked that portal and made it here, and the first thing you do is punch—”

Jun stretches over him then, kissing him silent. Nino smiles against Jun’s mouth, finding enough strength in him to kiss back. He still can’t move his arms and Jun has him effectively trapped, but it’s not uncomfortable. Jun’s presence is as reassuring as ever and Nino doesn’t want to go anywhere. Mostly because he’s incapable of moving at all, but that’s not the point.

“Did I get it, though?” he asks when Jun pulls away, and Jun nods.

The comms attached to his drivesuit beeps in static before he hears Ohno’s relieved voice. “You got them good, ranger. The bridge or whatever it was they were building there, it collapsed when you set the Sentinel on it. We’re getting reports from all over the world that nuking the structures are causing the kaijus in the vicinity to shut down.”

Nino coughs a little and he feels Jun stroking his face in worry. He shakes his head to dismiss it, smiling a little. “The others?” he asks, his voice nothing but a hoarse croak. He feels like he screamed for hours and his throat has gone dry.

It’s Aiba who answers this time. “You’re not the only tough guy, Nino, even if you like to think you’re so special. Toma-chan and Shun-kun made it, although they’re looking at long sessions with Kazapon considering the state they’re in.”

“You’re all tough, crazy bastards,” Sho interjects and Nino manages to laugh despite his condition. “We’re sending choppers to you now. You and Jun need to be examined for injuries.”

Always the worrier. Nino meets Jun’s eyes and Jun just nods. “We’re fine, Sho-yan,” Nino says, dismissing the offer for aid. Their fallen comrades and fellow rangers in arms need it more than they do, and he tells Sho as much. Sho doesn’t seem agreeable, even pointing out how unstable Nino sounds like, but it’s Jun who answers for Nino this time.

“I got him covered,” Jun assures them, and that seems to be enough for Sho.

“He also has me pinned down,” Nino adds, laughing when he hears Sho’s scandalized huffs of “For the love of all that is holy, I do not want to know! When you get back here, Nino, you are definitely going to learn how not to use the comms!”

Jun releases him from the pod before getting off him, and Nino rolls to his side to lie beside Jun in the middle of the street, collapsed buildings and overturned, flattened vehicles surrounding them. It’s not a pretty picture, but when Nino looks up, the sun is shining and the skies are clear, making him forget that he’s lying in the wake of destruction.

A flock of birds fly overhead, their squawks somehow bringing a smile to Nino’s face. Beside him, he hears Jun grunt as Jun shifts, trying to get comfortable despite the hard concrete under their bodies. Jun seems to sense his worry despite not being connected to him; Jun waves a hand to indicate he’s fine, although he believes he may have torn a muscle and dislocated his shoulder.

“Hurts,” Jun admits, wincing a little, “so I really don’t feel like moving anytime soon.”

The ground is hard and unyielding under them but like Jun, Nino doesn’t feel like going anywhere too. He feels like remaining here and watching the sky as the choppers begin arriving and flying alongside the flock of birds, so that’s what he does.

He reaches for Jun without looking, and Jun holds on to his hand tightly as they keep looking at the blue sky. There are no more skyscrapers which block the view and even the clouds are absent. There’s nothing but blanket of blue over debris and ruin, and Nino views it like a new, clean canvas, ready to be painted on.

He hears a shuffle of movement from Jun’s side and when he turns, he sees Jun raising the orange string bracelet with his other hand. “I’m returning it,” Jun says, trying to hand him the bracelet but Nino shakes his head, a grin on his face.

“Keep it.”

“Why? We made it.”

He laughs a little as he squeezes Jun’s hand to prove his point. “It works, apparently. We made it. So I want you to hold on to it a little longer for me.”

Jun shrugs and tucks the bracelet somewhere in his suit without another word, and Nino finally feels the tendrils of fatigue climbing his limbs. He can totally use more than an eight-hour rest upon their return to the Shatterdome, which is, unfortunately, not anytime soon because the evacuation procedures are focusing on the other rangers first.

But since Jun has him covered, he figures he’ll be all right.

“You think they’ll come back?” Jun suddenly asks, and Nino doesn’t need the drift to know that Jun’s remembering the falling meteors containing gigantic monsters, pulverizing cities and devastating countries in a matter of days.

He thinks about it for a moment. “Who knows? You want a postcard or something?”

Jun laughs a little. “You think they’ll send me one from up there?”

“Probably. I’m not looking forward to it, though.”

A fighter plane flies overhead, acting as a guard to the choppers and Nino follows them with his eyes until they disappear in the horizon. He suddenly remembers something. “Think we can hijack a plane to go to Paris?” he asks with a grin and Jun laughs loudly. “You did say something about the Louvre. You think Mona Lisa’s still in there?”

Nino’s not a fan of traveling and would rather stay indoors if he could, but he badly needs a vacation after the hell he just went through. He figures traveling the world (or what remains of it) with Jun won’t be such an awful idea. He might even enjoy it, as long as Jun doesn’t demand that they go outside every chance they get.

But knowing Jun, he’d probably demand exactly that. And Nino kind of hates himself for knowing he won’t exactly put up a lot of fight.

It’s Jun, anyway. He fought a bunch of damn kaijus with Jun and for Jun, and at this point Nino thinks there’s hardly anything he won’t do for the guy. It’s sentimental and probably sappy if he says it out loud, but the world almost ended today and he’s practically living in the post-apocalyptic period in Earth’s history, so for him today’s a good enough day to be a little clingy and disgusting.

He doesn’t say anything though. Jun will rub it in his face if he says a word so he doesn’t, but mostly because he doesn’t think he has to say anything. Jun knows. Jun has seen it in his head and has seen him act on it, and that’s more than enough. Besides, Nino thinks he still has his pride, and he doesn’t find the idea of living in the aftermath of the Kaiju War with Jun gloating by his side inviting.

“We’ve got to go to Katsushika first,” Jun tells him, and he frowns. “It’s not too far from here. Just a bit of walking. Or crawling because we can’t move, but before we go and see the Louvre to find Mona Lisa, we’re going there first.”

“What, you forgot something there?” he asks, and he feels Jun squeezing his hand as Jun smiles.

“You were right about asking me to remind you.”

Ah. That. Nino smiles back, finally remembering. He was definitely right to leave it up to Jun. Trust Jun to remember the important things and to remind him of it. He still owes his sister a lot, and he believes Katsushika will serve as a good start.

He grunts, trying to make himself more comfortable as they lay on the asphalt. “You think she’d mind if we postpone a little? Can’t move anything aside from my neck.” The adrenaline is mostly gone from their bodies, and Nino thinks he’s going to have a peaceful night in the Shatterdome once he’s back. Sho will nag about him and Jun not leaving the infirmary of course, but Nino finds that he’s actually looking forward to Sho forbidding any form of movement despite him not really being part of medical staff.

“No, I think she wouldn’t,” Jun assures him, entwining their fingers together. “There’s always tomorrow.”

Nino doesn’t feel like forcing himself to go anywhere and feels like staring at the now clear sky of Tokyo despite being surrounded by rubble and kaiju remains some kilometers away so he simply looks up, comforted by the presence of Jun beside him. Jun’s always on his right. He grins wider as he keeps looking up, holding on to Jun tightly, his hand as warm and as welcoming as ever, like finding a place to come home to.

For once, Nino feels like he belongs somewhere.

But first, Katsushika and the promise he intends to keep. Then probably Paris or whatever’s left of it. He thinks they can visit Hawaii too. He does remember seeing in the drift that Jun once wanted to be a professional surfer, just before he wanted to become a professional baseball player. That’s a forgotten dream Nino shares with him. Maybe they can catch a baseball game somewhere in the world, if there are colosseums left and there are still teams available for playoffs. He’s not really sure. He doesn’t know a lot of things, but he knows enough.

They’ve lost countries, entire cities. People, soldiers, volunteers, friends, families. They’re all damaged, but that doesn’t mean they’re beaten. Damaged people are the strongest because they know they can survive. But this isn’t Nino surviving. This is him living in a future he once thought was lost, in a tomorrow he fought hard for alongside a person he trusts with everything he has.

He and Jun may be damaged in their own ways. After all, he still has his fears, his ghosts, his demons which won’t fall silent. But they’re both coping, mending. It will take time; rebuilding is harder than destruction. It might take years before they see Tokyo back to the Tokyo they once knew. Maybe it’ll never be the same despite the efforts of reconstruction. But whatever happens, they will get up and there’s no rush. Time will continue moving and with it they will continue trudging forward despite their doubts and uncertainties, despite the broken dreams and long-lost hopes. They will stand and fight and keep moving, because that’s what they do. Doom may arrive in another form aside from an alien race threatening to colonize the planet, but whatever comes, they will face it with determination and courage, for the sake of everything they lost and stood up for and believed in.

There’s always their hard-earned tomorrow, and the future is waiting.

As long as Nino’s got Jun somewhere by his side, he knows he’s not alone.