Chapter Text
Tokyo is quiet.
For the first time in a long time, Tokyo is finally quiet. There is occasionally the sound of a piece of a distant crumbling building clattering to the ground, or the muffled pounding of boots against the cracked pavement as men scramble across the broken streets, weaving from one side to another. Somewhere, far off, the deep rumble of thunder begins to work its way through the low-hanging clouds that lurk above with a brackish hue. But there is no gunfire, no screaming, no roaring of monstrous beasts. For all intents and purposes, Tokyo is the most quiet it has been in weeks.
Kazushi lights his cigarette, watching as the end flares red in the flame of the lighter. As he pulls the lighter away from the rolled stick of tobacco he pauses to stare into the small flame for a moment. Fires are plenty common, that much is sure, but there is something about seeing one so small, so... tame in his hand that has an entrancing quality.
And with a single blink of his henna eyes the spell is broken, the world snaps back around him. The lighter clicks as he flicks it shut and the little flame flickers out instantly. He sighs and shakes his head, brushing his gold-blond hair out of his face.
'It's getting too long, I'll probably have to get it cut again soon...' he thinks as he does.
It's grown thick and untamed, but only the sides are black like his intense brows and the even layer of stubble that runs across his strong jaw and along his slightly squared chin. Though he keeps it short at the sides, he's let it grow longer on top and bleached to a gold-blond whenever he could get his hands on the supplies to do so, but it has been a while since he's had the chance to see someone who knows how to do anything other than a buzz-cut. Until then, he's content to just keep combing it back to keep it out of the way and let it be.
He takes another long drag as he looks up at the unpleasant sky. The crumpled brick building that he rests his strong back against would be no shelter if it finally starts to rain, since it looks like the entire top half had been punched straight through, but it is a shelter from the unpleasantly cold breeze that makes the summer afternoon feel more like late autumn.
“Yo, Goldilocks, you got a spare?” Another man asks in loud English, sitting down on a large chunk of broken plaster and brick next to him.
Kazushi kicks his leg out, futzing in the side pocket of his military-grade camo pants for a moment until he pulls out the battered pack of cigarettes and holds it out to the man.
“You already owe me four from Osaka.” Kazushi's voice is deep and soft, like the rumbling thunder approaching above.
The other man gives him a gap-toothed grin back wiping his hands on his pants which debatably may have made them more dusty before pulling out one of the smokes, “You know I'm good for it!”
“Eventually.” Kazushi sighs, pocketing the pack before anyone else can beg another one off of him. He folds his muscular arms behind his head so he can relax a bit more and watch the sky.
The man gives him a sidelong look for a moment before sighing and pulling out a lighter of his own and lighting the cigarette. They are certainly an odd pair next to each other. Where Kazushi is in his early thirties the other man is in his late forties. Where Kazushi is one of the taller men in their squad, he is almost two heads shorter. Kazushi's tight black tanktop, thick work boots, and forest green camo-print jacket and pants have a more of a modern military quality whereas the man's look is a bit more hodgepodge with heavier gear, a long-retired army helmet over his greasy brown hair, and a thick bulletproof vest over it all. The small silver ring Kazushi always wears in his left ear along with the silver cuff and smaller silver ring in his upper ear below it, not to mention his hair, do certainly dissuade any illusions that the man could be military, however. There isn't much that marks them as a part of the same squad besides a single black rose engraved on the back of the dogtags they both wear around their necks. But at the end of the day, you would really only need to worry about looking uniform if you were fighting other humans.
“You look worried,” the older man finally says with a grimace around the cigarette in his mouth, one of those people that doesn't really bother to take their smokes out of their mouth to talk.
“It's been like this for a few days now, Benny. No rain, barely any visible lightning. Just this.” Kazushi gestures up at the sky with his cigarette.
“You think somethin's comin'?” Benny glances up at the sky but immediately back down as if looking at the sky made him queasy.
“What else?” Kazushi sits forward to look at him with a grimace scrunching his handsome face for a moment before sighing and sitting back, “Not like we can do anything until it happens anyway.”
“Well, if you're right, you're right and if you're wrong, I'm happy.” The other man chuckles, dropping and stamping out the stub of his cigarette.
“You might as well just eat those things you inhale them so quickly.” Kazushi can't hold back a chuckle.
“Kazushi! Benny! Food's done!” Another man's voice calls over a pile of debris in Japanese.
Benny gives Kazushi a quizzical look.
Kazushi smiles to himself as he gets to his feet, picking up the large assault rifle at his side and slinging it over his shoulder, “He say's dinner's ready.”
“Damnit, if you're gonna teach me anything you need to teach me the important phrases like that first!” Benny jumps to his feet emphatically.
Kazushi follows Benny as the man scampers over the pile of rubble that Kazushi had been using for a bit of privacy from the others, tying his jacket around his waist as he does. As he climbs to the top of the pile he pauses for a moment.
The small square below had been a back alley square at one point surrounded by businesses. Now, a long sheet of metal has collapsed over half of it, making almost a roof. Four of the other men are huddled around the small campfire with a cooking pot set up over it. It's only in periods like these when the incursions are down and the area has been cleared that they can enjoy things like campfires and hot food. Hell, sometimes when things were bad even a cigarette was too much light and smoke to risk.
The men had moved a couple of rusted trucks to slightly conceal the entrance to the other end of the alleyway, meaning if something big came from that way it couldn't get in easily, and if something big came from the other way they wouldn't be cornered. They'd lucked out that it wasn't full of broken glass as the larger office building overhead had a sizable number of windows and the street on the other side of it was covered in broken glass.
Kazushi looks back behind him over the collapsed building. He can just see part of the street. It is mostly intact with several abandoned vehicles, left to rust. He can only faintly remember what they looked like, filled with people walking down the sidewalks, cars passing by. The memory itself is almost eerie at this point, like a ghost in an abandoned building.
The large man shakes his head and turns back to the important task at hand: Food. He half-walks, half-slides down the pile and saunteres over.
“Look who it is. Thought you'd been eaten and I'd have an extra portion to hand out.” Shou, their resident “cook” and his fellow local snickers, handing him a bowl of something that likely alleges itself on the can to be meat and beans.
“You know I'd fight off an army for a dish of your cooking, Shou,” Kazushi takes the bowl with theatrical reverence.
“You're not getting extra. Now sit down, before you hit your head on the ceiling.”
Kazushi chuckles at the other man's quip before finding a spot to sit down and dig into the food. In theory, it probably tastes terrible, but he'd lost most of his sense of what was good or not a long time ago and Shou really does have a flair for improving even the most basic rationed meals with what seemed like nothing more than a single pinch of salt. Kazushi is also the only person in the group besides the commander who speaks perfectly fluent Japanese and Shou's English is a 50/50 shot at best so Kazushi is really the only other person he can be his fully snarky self with in the squad.
Pierre like Kazushi keeps mostly to himself. A tall, stocky man, with surprising strength and dexterity, he is a better hand-to-hand combatant than anyone Kazushi has ever met. He has long, messy, thinning, dark hair and haunted eyes that never quite seem focused on what he's doing unless he's fighting. He never really opened up but over time he had at least mentioned that he lost his family in the incursion that destroyed Passau. He'd never gone into detail about what family he'd had before then.
Mateo and Ricardo are the youngest members, barely above twenty. According to Benny he'd met them in a bar in Reno and when he'd told them he was gathering supplies for a mercenary squad they had practically tied themselves to him until he agreed to introduce them to the commander. The two remained completely inseparable after joining and almost move and function as one soldier. They have the exuberance of youth but they'd been left homeless along with their family who had lived on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Nevada. Their family was one of the lucky ones who was smart enough to get out before the incursions got bad and the two sent almost every credit they made back to their family. Though they both have fairly different facial features, they are both equally handsome and were probably quite popular with the girls before they left, with wavy brown hair, bodies they both spend a little too much time on, and smiles that could win most anyone over. They both have several facial piercings they were enthused to find out they could keep after they saw Kazushi's.
Louis is a bit of a quiet enigma. The handsome black officer has a clean-shaven head, piercing brown eyes, and like the brothers, an incredibly charming smile. What the commander lacks in charisma, Louis makes up as his second in command. He is broad-shouldered and athletic, though more purpose than form unlike the brothers. He is the group's tech expert and medical expert wrapped into one. He always seems to dodge questions about his life before joining the mercenaries but the running theory is that he was high-level ex-military of some sort, probably in the British military if his accent is any indication.
And of course Shou. The former-accountant is well into his fifties but is a fierce fighter, good cook, and a decent medical assistant for Louis as well. He has short straight-cut black hair and his only facial hair is a very light mustache above his lip. He had lived in Tokyo before Japan became an outright warzone and never left, no matter how bad thing got. Whenever the rest of the crew did missions overseas, he was always their lead contact back on the main battle lines.
The men eat in routine quietness, the two brothers chattering with Benny, Louis and Shou occasionally talking about some technological process Kazushi doesn't really care about, and Kazushi and Pierre sitting in silence a bit away from the others. Their voices are kept low out of years of habit, even the enthusiastic brothers rarely breaching a soft speaking volume.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, the door that leads into the collapsed office building opens and the commander steps out, pinching the bridge of his nose with a weary sigh. Immediately what little chatter there was stops. He sets the long-distance radio on a crate next to his bag and with a grateful nod takes a bowl from Shou. He sits down hard on the ground, leaning his back against the wall.
Commander Rose is an older man. In his late fifties or early sixties, he's never admitted either way, his short hair went grey long ago with only a few flecks of black left in it. His face is weathered and has scars dating back to his teens. Though he keeps clean-shaven usually he does have a patch of grey hair on his chin and he does every once and a while show a slightly crooked smile that would have definitely had a substantial number of younger men or women offering to order him drinks at a bar in a different life. Like Kazushi's father, he had been a biker in Ireland at some point before joining the army and later starting the mercenary squadron and he still wears his leather jacket with three long red claw marks embroidered on the back. “Rose” isn't his real name, but it has been the name his squadron has gone by for so long it eventually just became his own.
“That good, huh?” Louis finally asks, after the commander has a chance to get a few bites down.
“The same bullshit as always.” He sighs again shaking his head.
“So they're not sending any military forces at all?” Mateo pipes up.
“Of course not,” Ricardo lightly bops him on the shoulder with his spoon, “That's why they have mercs. Tokyo's the most dangerous place on the planet that's not literally in a volcano, they're not gonna send their precious little military boys in here when they can just pay to throw us at it instead.”
“Ricardo-” Louis starts in a cautionary tone.
“It's fine, Louis.” Rose cuts him off, “Though it's not the best way to put it and I will personally shoot him in the foot if he says that in front of anyone else,” he gives Ricardo a sharp warning look, “He's not wrong. That's why we're here. That's why we get paid, to fight in the places nobody else wants to.”
“Could still pay better considering...” Benny pokes pensively at what little remained of his beans.
“Preaching to the choir, my friend. Preaching to the choir.” Rose just chuckles and continued eating.
“You hear from any of the other squads?” Kazushi asks after a bit longer, starting gratefully into a second bowl.
“Not much beyond the usual radio chatter. Since the last incursion two weeks ago was so small, almost everything's cleared out to about a twenty mile radius, above ground at least.”
“That's pretty good though,” Ricardo talks through his mouthful of food.
“Best we've seen in months. At least here. Keep in mind, there're always ones that've crossed over and hidden themselves away somewhere, they can be pretty crafty.” Louis gestures around them expansively.
“Had my guard up my whole life, not gonna let it down now...” Ricardo grumbles under his breath, not making eye contact.
“It's going to be getting dark in a couple of hours. We should do a final sweep of the area, just to be safe. I don't like how much structural damage this zone has taken and I don't want to go falling in any sinkholes if we get in a fight.” Rose nods, setting his bowl aside and moving to stand up.
“NOT until you finish your food.” Shou snaps, waving a ladle at him threateningly, “You come out here looking like a half-dead man and then expect to go tromping around the city on my watch? Not today, sir, you are going to finish your food, then you can go scouting.”
“He's got you there. Doctor's orders.” Louis smirks and shrugs at him.
“Bloody mutiny...” Rose mutters, sitting back down and folding his arms, though the smile is hardly hidden on his face.
Once Rose has eaten to his chef's satisfaction, the group begins preparing to leave, putting out the fire, polishing off any excess food that would leave any luring smells, and making sure to conceal their presence as much as possible just in case. As they do, the afternoon light begins to fade slightly and that rumble of thunder comes closer, a hopeful portent of rain to come and one or two stray raindrops does manage to fall to the ground below.
Just as they are finishing packing the last of their supplies, Kazushi walks over to pick up a stray spoon that apparently escaped somewhere along the way. As he reaches out to touch it, a single spark of static electricity jumps between his finger and the metal, shocking him ever-so-slightly.
“Ow! Shit!” He mutters softly.
“Spoon bite ya?” Benny chuckles, having seen out of the corner of his eye.
“No, it-...” Kazushi trails off, staring down at the utensil silently.
Benny's face falls, “Goldilocks? You okay?”
Kazushi reaches out slowly, as his finger is about to touch the spoon again, another spark jumps between him and the metal with a soft flash and pop.
“Static electricity...” He whispers, looking up.
In the evening sky, the the occasional low boom of thunder continues to traverse the clouds but only the smallest sparks of lightning cross the clouds. But that isn't what he's looking at. He's looking at his hair, the very tips of which are frizzing upwards more than usual.
He watches as a single raindrop falls from the sky, slowing more and more as it nears the ground before coming to a complete stop a couple of feet in front of his face, gently hovering in the air.
“Shit...”
The ground shudders as if hit by an earthquake and the men stagger. A boom very much like thunder, splits the silence, louder than their surprised shouts. For a moment, a sickly green aurora snakes across the sky, the verdant light deepening every shadow, tinting everything the same hue. More ribbons of green light split out from the first and spread in other directions, counter to the logic of any natural aurora that might occur until there are over half a dozen weaving in different directions over the ruined city as if reflecting off a cracked mirror.
In the distance, between the gaps in the buildings, Kazushi can just make out a gout of what looks like steam bursting out of thin air, roaring up to create a dense cloud of fog on the ground the size of a small building that obscures everything inside. The air around it crackles and its surface shimmers with static electricity as its spread stops unnaturally.
'Why couldn't it just be one?' He thinks as he struggles to maintain his balance, having to drop onto one knee to keep from toppling over altogether, 'Why is it never just one?'
The ground continues to tremble for what feels like an eternity, but in truth is only a few more seconds before the shuddering comes to an end. In the distance the men can hear shouting from other groups. The squealing sound of metal and mortar, rattled loose by the vibration, and somewhere the sound of a building giving up the ghost and finally collapsing to the ground, causing it to tremble much more lightly. With another sound like the snapping of a whip the auroras vanish from the sky as if they never were, the green ribbons of light slithering away into the air in an instant.
Rose scrambles over to his radio on his hands and knees, turning it on low.
Several voices immediately burst of it. Shouting, indistinct cries in different languages, some clear calls of “Incursion! Incursion!”, “Get ready! Get ready!”, “Weapons ready!”, before they one that momentarily makes every single person on the frequency go silent, a single shout...
“Oh my god, it's coming out!”
From several blocks away, an ear-splitting roar pierces the air. This is not the sound of the earth shaking, the boom of reality breaking, the crash of thunder, or the smash of a broken building. This is something alive.
The roar is immediately followed by the sound of machine gun fire and the distant echo of men shouting. The Rose Squad goes silent for a moment, instinctively listening, the gunfire seems to intensify, as does the shouting, the roaring, but then... the gunfire begins to grow more scattered, less focused and the shouting begins to become a lot more like... screaming. Then the gunfire stops entirely, leaving only the screams of men and a single triumphant roar in its place.
Rose shakes his head and turns off the radio, it would just be a detriment now. In the far distance other gunshots echo, other roars. Somewhere an explosion goes off.
Tokyo is no longer quiet.