Binding: Rain - Chronicles 改 (Defunct)

[--CHAPTER TWO : STAND UP AND GET A START--]

[--CHAPTER TWO : STAND UP AND GET A START--]

[--CHAPTER TWO : STAND UP AND GET A START--]

　If I could have one thing in the world

　I suppose it would be foresight

　Or maybe the cliché "Go back in time"

　But we humans are creatures driven by regret

　So I don't think it matters what I COULD have

　Only what I DO have

　Perfectly level asphalt of a runway, neighbouring open field, brutalist buildings in the distance, and a platoon of soldiers. "Attention!" Shuffling of clothes followed by a synchronise click of boots. At the helm of these men stands Captain Shigure, wearing his typical stone cold expression. Internally, he just wants to go back to his quarters, not train or address a handful of soldiers who already know what they are doing. But whatever is on his task list is what he will do.

　Pulling a clipboard up from his armpit, he quickly scans over topics he needs to discuss. "Platoon, let's begin with field promotions." Clearing his throat and looking up, soldiers at attention in front of him. Shigure spends however long it takes for him to work through the list of promotions, not keeping track of time. He feigns interest, as he understands the importance of moral amongst the men. With the list being short, only having a half-dozen names, Shigure moves onto the next topic.

　"Command sent word we are getting a shipment of 10 Gleipnir frames. That means those who have preformed well with the training units will move to operating the real thing." Looking back down at his clipboard and highlighting a few words. "They are older units, GF-2 Twain's. But regardless, don't go damaging them or I will revoke everyone's weekend passes for as long as command allows me." Lowering his clipboard and adjusting his tie, Shigure looks to the platoon of soldiers once more. "Questions?"

　"Sir!" A voice from the formation speaks.

　"Ask away." Shigure closes his eyes, half expecting a stupid or irrelevant question.

　The voice's owner takes a deliberate step to the side, making him visible from amongst said formation, still remaining at attention. "When exactly are they arriving? And when do we find out who gets moved from the training units."

　Opening his eyes, Shigure faintly recognises the speaker as Corporal Ryuuji. Standing firm in the military issue parade uniform, greys matched with a red tie. Ryuuji stares at the Captain from under his glasses, expectantly awaiting an answer. "It could be today, or tomorrow. Know it is soon." Shigure speaks to Ryuuji, locking onto his gaze. "Who gets moved to the GF-2 Twains? I'd say two or three of those who were promoted today. Remember you lot aren't the only platoon on this base, and certainly not the best."

　"Yes, Sir." With an affirmative nod, Ryuuji returns to his position amongst the formation.

　"Assuming there are no further questions, dismissed." The soldiers give a sharp salute and fall out off of the tarmac, chattering as they go. Shigure stands under a now warming sun, watching and listening as soldiers go off to occupy themselves. It's been less than 2 hours since he woke up, and yet, he is already exhausted. Or better described as drained.

　Shigure, seeing the majority of the platoon has left, he himself falls out of his position. Staring down at his clipboard, he reviews details on the shipment of Gleipnir frames due in the near future. 10 units, designated as Twains, coming from a rear echelon base north of Tokyo. Depending on transport delays and availability they are scheduled to arrive later this day or early tomorrow.

　As he walks adjacent to the runway towards administrative buildings, the salty air of the ocean blows across the base, giving a unique smell with the warming temperature. Light greys of an old airfield, sparse grass fields amongst sunburnt soil, and a diamond sky plastered with clouds. Hotter weather is due in the coming days as the region shifts into typhoon season. With hotter days comes happier soldiers who insist on partying, of which Shigure does not care for; so long as he is not dragged into it.

　With the world's introduction to another global conflict, people demanded that governments bolster their defensive and offensive capabilities. Japan being no exception. With America being too involved in the old eastern theatre, they ceased enforcing the restrictions on Japan, simply because they lacked the resources. Of course, Japan and it's people maximized this opportunity, being the sole country responsible for the early Gleipnir frames.

　Though, the external variable that really lit the kindling was the sudden and unprecedented appearance of "alien" lifeforms. No-one knows where they came from, how they arrived, or what they plan to achieve. But, their actions indicate a singular thing clearer than all else. They want humanity extinct. The name everyone recognises and agrees upon for these foreign beings is simply, the Nephilim.

　Appearing 25 years into the global conflict now dubbed as "The 3rd Impact" in history books, the Nephilim's late arrival gave the world a minor edge. Having already developed better technology to kill each other in a race for land rights and other politics, world governments turned these weapons and tools against their alien foe.

　All of which proved largely ineffective.

　Countries who focused on domination and offense were wiped from the map, methodically run into oblivion by slow advances of Nephilim forces.

　Japan and other parts of East Asia that focused more on preservation and defence during the 3rd impact repelled the Nephilim long enough to develop contingencies and counters against them. One of Japan's decisions was the renovation of numerous military bases. The base Captain Shigure and his squad is station at now: First Ward Southern Defence Installation Tsuiki, a 21st century aerodrome repurposed and upgraded in recent years as a joint base between ground and air forces.

　Zoning back in, Shigure finds himself close by the airfield's centralized hangers. Despite having logistic duties to supervise, he decides to take a detour into one. His own footsteps on concrete of the hanger's apron (large concrete area near terminals/hangers used to park planes), and the quiet wind are all that encompass the soundscape of his proximity. Far off over the crystalline, turquoise ocean, two black specs dance through the sky. Fighter jets cutting clearing clouds. Occasionally, the screaming of their engines echo through the open air.

　He stops at the metal access door to the hanger, and opens it, stepping through the threshold. His eyes are immediately met by the massive interior. The lines of ceiling lights give off a remarkably warm hue, sucking every ounce of darkness from the atmosphere. In compliance with modern day military standards, everything is perfectly clean and maintained. Quiet sounds of the air filtration and conditioning system are masked by rattling of tools and whirring of machines.

　A few metres from a particular fighter jet parked at the centre of the hanger, an airframe technician working in the service panel of the craft notices the presence of a superior officer. He immediately sets down his tools and turns to Captain Shigure. "Attention!" The technician calls to the servicemen also in the hanger, and in response, everyone sets down their tools and comes to attention, facing the Captain.

　Sighing at being noticed, Shigure addresses the men in the hanger. "As you were. I'm just passing through." A few soldiers respond 'Yes, Sir' while others nod and return to their tasks servicing the aircrafts. Shigure approaches the technician who first noticed him, who has now began fiddling around in the service panel once more. With a quick glance at the airframe technician's nametag, he looks up at the cockpit's canopy of the aircraft plainly before him. "What is the problem with this one, Specialist Aiba?"

　Aiba, the airframe technician, again sets down his tools and raises his right hand to salute the Captain. "Sir-"

　With a dismissive wave of the hand and shake of the head, Shigure cuts him off. "Don't bother saluting. I'm not here on official business or anything."

　The Specialist seems apprehensive to go against protocol. "But sir... it is regulation to salute a superior officer..."

　"So is following orders. Consider this my break time." Shigure turns his attention down from the canopy to the immaculately smooth and clean surface of the aircraft. He idly reaches out with a hand and traces his fingers across the metal, like one would caress their lover.

　In return to the Captain's strange behaviour, Aiba gives a concerned glance to Shigure's hand. "Yes, sir." He crouches down to pick up his screwdriver, checking his pockets as he does. Standing back up and continuing to check tightness of screws, secureness of instruments, otherwise menial tasks. "Preventative maintenance and checks, Captian. Shanidar squadron will sortie in a few hours, and everything needs to be perfect."

　Taking his hand off the aircraft's body, he peers down at his fingers. Not a trace of dust on them. "You guys really keep stuff clean." Shigure notes and looks up to the soldier beside him.

　"Thank you Sir. It's not only about cleanliness for us but also our proof of attention to detail." Aiba smiles to himself, proud that his and other member's had their work recognised by an officer.

　"Keep working well, Specialist Aiba." He nods in acknowledgement, then walks away from the jet, leaving Aiba to continue his work. Not that he is actually impressed, or that he cares, Shigure just knows that when someone is praised for something they do, it drives them to keep doing it. So for the potential benefit of other servicemen he recognizes he should continue to try play the roll of a likeable and caring officer.

　There is a noticeable lack of smell in the hanger. Outside air is filtered lightly before circulation into the hanger, removing the fragrances of nature. While on the flip side, air inside the hanger is incessantly scrubbed to remove harmful gasses, as a result eradicating the smells of metal and oil that should be present from maintenance work. White floors with markings and walls of the same shade lightly reflect the colours of lights. The ceiling stringing up numbers of services, sprinklers, air ducts, and support beams.

　Shigure stands amongst the jets and soldiers, working hastily through their checklists. All pointing towards the hanger's massive shutter style door, ready for sortie at a moments notice, are 4 Surtr Interceptors. Cloaked in a matte black finish, allowing them to go unnoticed on radar. Duel pilot aircraft made specifically to combat opposing air forces, now retrofitted to better repel and annihilate Nephilim from the skies.

　Checking his smartphone, he decides that enough time has been spent meandering around the base. He has tasks requiring attention, and Yato will give him a hard time if he doesn't make a start. Shigure starts back towards the door he entered from, passing Surtr Interceptors along the way. Upon reaching the exit, he notices something that 1, was not there when he entered, and 2, should not be inside a hanger. The scent of tobacco.

　Stopping and carefully scanning the hanger for a possible source, he finds nothing, or specifically, no-one smoking. Struck by confusion at the fact there is seemingly no source, he tries to follow the strengthening aroma of tobacco. Deducing there would be no way for someone to smoke inside the hanger bay and the smoke be noticeable, he assumes it must originate from the nearby modular office.

　With no interest in politeness, Shigure opens the door to the small room and immediately steps inside. Unsurprisingly he finds the source of concern. Two military police messing with a microwave, with one puffing on a cigarette. To their shock, they see a Captain staring right at them, carrying a displeased expression.

　In a panic, one stands to attention roughly, while the other scrambles to discard the cigarette. Tossing the still lit butt into a nearby trashcan, then joining his partner at attention. "Sir! Sorry Sir! Yes Sir!" Both men saluting Shigure, out of cadence of course.

　Facepalming and dragging his hand across his face in irritation, he grasps a nearby wall-mounted fire extinguisher. He unhooks it and unenthusiastically lobs it at a dazed MP. Fumbling around with the extinguisher tossed at him, the soon to be arsonist eventually steadies it in his hand. Staring at Shigure expectantly, they share a short glance between each other, perplexed.

　In response to their gaze, the Captain simply gestures to barely noticeable plumes of smoke rising from the trashcan. Stunned to silence at their own stupidity, the military police officers just watch the smoke build. A beeping from the microwave indicating their meals are ready, kicks them back into motion. Pulling the pin, aiming and coating the bin in powder.

　After effectively extinguishing the fire, both then turn back to the superior officer. Their faces showing a mix of fear, shock, and abashment. Seeing no point in returning to attention, they simply stand loosely.

　"Are we getting demoted, sir?"

　"Too much paperwork." Shigure shakes his head, beginning to wave away what is clouding the room.

　"So we are safe sir?"

　 He sets down the empty fire extinguisher beside a counter. "Will you handle the incident report?"

　"That's up to you. Consider it a learning experience. Now, where is your vehicle?" The Captain pre-emptively leaves the room, expecting a response and for the two MP's to follow.

　Disappointment etched on their faces, they obediently follow to the left and behind him. Muttering to each other about the story they will use in the report, and how to shift blame off themselves. Walking the insignificant distance to exit the hanger briskly. Stopping on concrete of an airfield apron with heat from the rising sun beaming down upon the military installations.

　"Sir, you wanted our vehicle?" Looking at him, awaiting confirmation.

　"That's what I said." Shigure responds starkly, already surveying the surrounding area for an military police vehicle. Of which he immediately sees parked adjacent to a hanger, a few metres from them. "That's yours, I'm guessing?"

　Both respond in sync, "Yes sir."

　Wanting to escape the dry heat slowly encroaching upon the Fukuoka Prefecture, Shigure walks to the armoured vehicle idling silently nearby. Waiting for them to unlock their vehicle and mount up, he pulls out his smartphone, proceeding to update himself with where he needs to be. After a few seconds he pockets it, now being reminded he must travel to the southern most district of FWSDI (First Ward Southern Defence Installation)-Tsuiki to supervise the handover of GF-2 Twains.

　Without need for discussion, a MP unlocks the armoured vehicle and places himself in the driver's seat. Following suit, the other gets inside and climbs to his position behind the top mounted machine gun.

　After a few seconds, Shigure join the two military police inside the vehicle. "Take me to the southern most administrative area."

　Nodding, the sergeant, his rank displayed by idiosyncratic lines upon his epaulette, begins to drive. Left now with just the sound of heavy tires speeding across concrete and passing of military buildings out the window. Despite all the negatives that have come with exponential technological advancements, at least air conditioning in cars and smoothness of the ride has improved.

　Due to FWSDI-Tsuiki being exponentially larger than most other military bases, and Shigure electing to not take the sub-surface maglev, going from the centralized hangers of the airfield all the way down to southern district's administrative section, takes a substantial amount of time. The LAV (Light Armoured Vehicle) appears as a prowling spider, low and fast, with it's body sharply constructed with the intention to ricochet rounds instead of absorbing the energy outright. As with most other military vehicles of this time belonging to Japan, it is painted almost entirely in uniform green.

　Simply watching the scenery, if you can call a concrete landscape scenery, Shigure soon arrives at his destination. "You can stop here. Thank you Sergeant and..." Looking up at the soldier manning the turret.

　"Senior Sergeant, sir." He replies, looking down into the interior of the LAV as his partner brings it to a halt.

　Dismounting from the vehicle, Sigure gives a final reminder. "Be sure to write that incident report." With no remining reason to be with the MP's he shuts the heavy armoured door closed, and steps back. They nod and drive off slowly, presumably to start a patrol around base. Regardless, Shigure now stands on a road adjacent to the administrative building he had intended to arrive at.

　From memory, he knows he should be safe to engage in slight recreation while reviewing some documents whilst he awaits the delivery. Reflecting shallowly on the last few minutes, it occurs to him he never asked the name of the two who drove him to where he is. To be fair, he can't even remember their faces or voices, so their names are trivial. Still the point stands that he typically asks for names, for no other reason than a false familiarity.

　He enters the plain concrete building, passing other officers and NCOs (Non-Commissioned Officers) through the halls. A short walk inside, and he arrives at an officer's mess hall. Approaching the serving table, he mindlessly chooses some food to occupy himself. Satisfied with a simple dish of sushi, he seats himself securely at a table in the far end of the mess hall.

　He slowly eats his sushi and scrolls methodically on his smartphone, reading documents. Submitting changes, sending emails, typical office worker tasks. For him, at least the sushi brings some degree of comfort and enjoyment. It's not common Shigure eats in public places, he deems it a personal task, and as such, prefers to eat in solitude. Eating allows him to reflect on himself and the past, but the food keeps him occupied enough to prevent things he'd rather keep undisturbed from rising to the surface.

　Years ago, perhaps still as a child, he was what many would call 'normal', as normal as children are being raised in a world that hates people due to lies their relevant governments sell them. Though, actions and potentially unavoidable events began to illustrate his life. He thinks back often, and he always finds himself undisturbed. He's not unhappy, or angry, or much of anything. Surprisingly, he is rather content. Not bothered at all by his seeming loss of control over 'fate'.

　Living day by day.

　Minutes lose their meaning as Shigure eats at this quiet table, passing like a dandelion in the wind. With Yato presumptively attending to any minor tasks he may of forgotten of, there is an apparent lack of anything at all for him to do. At least on the battlefield he could find some purpose for himself; killing others. But after one decisive battle against a Nephilim reconnaissance team, totalling his Gleipnir and loosing all his squad mates an additional time, Shigure found himself stationed at Tsuiki. Still technically part of the frontline, however, Nephilim forces have never reached that far into Japan.

　Hence, where some would see bliss, Shigure is lost; without purpose.

　He is still driven to live. Although presently, there seems as if there is no reason. He just lives for the sake of living. Waiting.

　Snapping him out his robotically idle state, an important notification appears on his phone. Though a moment before he opens it, a hand he knows well is placed on his shoulder, accompanied by a certain voice.

　"Captain, the Frames are 2 minutes out."

　Briefly checking the notification, the words spoken ring true. "I just got the notification." Shigure comes to his feet from his seated position. Met with the amber eyes of Yato looking softly up at his larger stature.

　"Induction will be handled by warrant officer Tsuki. We just have to do the handover procedure. Shall we go to the western district Gleipnir dock?"

　"That's where they will be delivered I assume?"

　She gives a nod. "Yes Captain. The southern one is unable to receive anymore."

　Shigure in return gives the slightest gesture of agreeance and begins to leave the building. Depositing his plate as he departs, Yato following on his left. Instead of leaving the building in the traditional sense, the two go to the lower levels of said building. What awaits them down a couple halls, is a subterranean maglev that links solely between Gleipnir holding facilities and other essential infrastructure retaining to immediate threat response.

　The trip is remarkably short and smooth, taking a measly dozen of seconds to travel hundreds of metres. The carriage has no windows, meaning the only lighting is onboard. Not that the tunnel would have any in exception for emergency lights. Yato steps off first, light of the subsurface terminal slightly brighter than that of inside the carriage. Shigure follows suit, brushing out any creases in his uniform.

　Underground is homely, in a sense, despite having so much exposed metal for supports. Better described as a bunker, not just an underground transport system. However, to the two, having seen architecture like this their whole time serving in the military, it is nothing remarkable.

　With no mention of anything to each other, they take an elevator to the operations bridge. Just below the surface itself. Sliding doors open to reveal a room reminiscent of a naval command bridge. The tasks committed in the room? Overseeing of Gleipnir Frames attached to FWSDI-Tsuiki. From constant monitoring of Gleipnir Operating Systems, to the most basic of maintenance. It is all surveilled from this room.

　To the wall of the room is an angled window, peering down into the docking bay itself. Appearing much like a hanger in design, just significantly larger. Instead of aircraft, there locked in place by massive overhead cranes and metal scaffolds, are rows of 16.7 metre tall mechs. Standing on their own legs with their featureless heads looking at the ground, in a state of deactivation. The sheer size of the docking bay itself demands a vehicle to effectively traverse. Personnel dressed in high visibility clothing, others in military garb, all move urgently around the hanger deck, preparing for the imminent acquisition of 10 more Gleipnirs.

　Noticing the expectant look of logistic officers and other servicemen, Shigure gives the signal to lower the enormous elevator, centralized in the ceiling of the hanger. Warning lights come to life in the hanger as the lift is lowered, people move aside, making final last minute checks of numerous things. It moves painfully slow, driven by hydraulics so powerful the sound of the pressurisation pumps encompass everything. Coming into view as the lift descends lower are the 10 GF-2 Twains. Just as impressive as all the others inside the hanger despite being relics of a simpler era.

　Reaching the hanger deck, thick sounds of hydraulic locks shudder through the air, halting the lift. Operators whom are piloting the mechs wait expectantly for Gleipnir marshallers to direct them to their respective docks. Wasting no time, mechanized boatswain mates (Equivalent of aircrew aboard aircraft carriers) spread out across the hanger deck, directing vehicles and people, ensuring the marshallers and Gleipnirs have a clear right of passage through the hanger.

　Shigure steps away from the window as the handover operation continues, not the first time he has seen the spectacle. "Yato."

　Upon being spoken to, she pulls away from the window and turns her regard to him. "Yes Capitan?"

　"That's everything major done for today, yes?"

　Yato smiles and nods while double checking the timetable on her tablet. "That would be right. You just have some administrative duties left."

　Shigure buries his face in his hands for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. "I hope this streak of admin work and whatnot ends real soon." He takes his hands away and looks back out the window into the underground hanger, Gleipnirs still traversing carefully through the space. "Can't command put me back?"

　"Well Captain... Thats-"

　He shakes his head and glances at her over his shoulder. "I'm being rhetoric, Yato." Reaching down to his right hip, he hollowly adjusts his pistol's holster.

　A breathing of silence passes, Yato openly staring at him. She frowns faintly and clocks her head to the side, her bangs drooping with her movement. She likes to think she understands Shigure's reasons for most things he does, still, she can't recall him giving any confirmation or direct insight into himself. Yato, despite knowing him for years, knows only very superficial and surface level attributes about him. She is closer to him than others, that is a given, yet he gives the impression their relationship is that of strangers.

　"You're giving me that look again."

　Yato sees that Shigure, in his perpetual unreadable state, is meeting her curious look out the corner of his eyes. She promptly adverts her gaze, opting to look out the window at the Gleipnirs also. "My apologise sir. I was caught up in thought."

　 "That's fine." Shigure checks his phone, then smoothly pockets it once more. "I'm off to my quarters." Without a goodbye, or official check that the handover of the GFs is finished, he leaves her alone with others in the operations bridge.

　She watches him leave via the elevator, going to lower floors. The sounds of chatter amongst officers and NCOs regarding what is happening just on the other side of the window, and rustling of instruments is all she is left with. She wants to get closer to him, but it seems vastly impossible. He treats her nicely, in a sense. While 'normal' people greet her, speak to her, be otherwise caring to her. It's not the same as what she gets from Shigure.

　It's special.

　Even if his responses are brief and sharp, they carry a certain weight. One she can't exactly localize. Undoubtably though, Shigure gives her a lot more freedom to interact with him. He'll speak to her unprovoked, he'll sometimes go out of his way to help her. Things he rarely, or simply never, does for anyone else.

　But at the end of the day, Shigure is Shigure, and always will be. She can't change that, nor does she want to. Therefore, there is no reason to brood over it. Yato just begins to leave, ready to continue her day.