Not Alone

by MoonieMochi

Summary:

He can feel Shōta’s love for him, Shōta’s fierce giant. He also senses Shōta’s fear: fear that Shōta will lose him now, not to death, but to despair. He will not allow that.

Chapter 1: 1

Toshinori is born to a hardworking family from Tokyo. His father works at a factory and his mother is a schoolteacher. At first, his parents are proud of the size of their son.

“Such a healthy alpha boy!”

“He will grow up big and strong!”

At first, they are amazed at how quickly he outgrows his clothes. When he is two, he wears the clothes his older brother wore at four. At six, he has caught up to his older brother, who is twelve.

Then they start to shake their heads, and finally they sigh.

“Slow down, will you? We can’t keep up.”

❄

One day his brother takes him on a drive. They get out to the middle of nowhere. All he sees is white and gray.

His brother says, “father and mother can’t afford to feed you any more, so they asked me to leave you here. Goodbye.”

Toshinori pleads with him but his brother’s heart is like stone. Toshinori watches the car get smaller and smaller before it disappears.

He is alone.

He cries so hard that his snot freezes on his upper lip. When his brother comes back, Toshinori cannot believe that his brother is laughing.

“It was a joke. Stop crying, you big baby. Get in.”

Toshinori makes himself laugh too, but he tries to eat less from then on.

❄

Toshinori does well in school, but his teacher worries that he has trouble fitting in with the other kids. When Toshinori tells his teacher that the kids call him “ogre” and “titan,” the teacher does not know what to say. Toshinori has his first grown-up realization: the teacher doesn’t know what to say because the teacher feels the same way.

One day his parents get called in to meet with the principal. Even with his head bowed and his shoulders slouched, Toshinori cannot make himself small enough. The principal is “concerned,” his parents are “ashamed.” They do not listen when he tries to explain that he was outnumbered four to one.

The next time, there are five of them, and he is too scared of getting in trouble to fight back. He is big, so they hit with all their strength, thinking he can take it. It still hurts, and it keeps hurting even after the bruises go away.

When he sees seven of them waiting for him after school, he tries to go the other way, but it is too late. This time he tries to push them away. When pushing does not work, he starts throwing punches. His punches are clumsy. He does not know how to fight, and part of him still does not want to hurt them.

But the more he punches, the angrier the kids get. He does not see how scared they are of him, only how vicious and angry they seem. They egg each other on.

The fury wells up in Toshinori, surprising them all. He stops trying to block their blows and focuses only on hurting his attackers. They soon flee in terror, and for once they are either too afraid or too ashamed to tell their parents what happened. Toshinori’s parents do not ask.

Later, Toshinori runs into some older kids hanging out behind the school buildings. To his surprise, they seem to think he’s cool.

“How’s it going, big man?”

Though he still worries that the kids are laughing at him behind his back, he joins them when he has free time or, increasingly, when he can’t stand being around the kids in his class.

“Have a cigarette. What’s one smoke going to do to a strong guy like you?”

❄

At first, he only accompanies his friends when they are dealing in the bad part of town. He is there to protect his friends, nothing more.

Then he is there to help them collect debts, and make sure that the jerk coughs up the money he owes.

He starts cutting class to help his friends.

He starts skipping school entirely to help his friends.

❄

He is sixteen, a high school dropout, living in a small apartment with two other guys. They smoke weed and watch porn and invite up omegas.

“Look at the size of this one! Are you extra large everywhere?”

He knows that he has never been happier, and he does not waste time reflecting that it is only because he was always so unhappy before.

❄

By the time he is nineteen, he has stopped hanging out with those losers. Now he deals his own drugs and collects his own debts. He did well in school, before he dropped out, and now he is good at keeping track of supply and demand, interest owed, bones to be broken.

He parties with the real yakuzas at all the hottest Tokyo clubs and takes beta girls (or omegas) home to his own apartment.

“This is all yours? I guess a big man needs a big place.”

❄

Toshinori meets him on the dancefloor. He is dancing with a beta man when he feels someone bump into him. Toshinori turns and the next thing he knows, he is dancing with him. They move together, not mimicking each other but complementing each other’s movements. Toshinori moves slowly when he moves quickly, he stands tall while the omega whirls around him.

Two songs later Toshinori moves in for a kiss but he turns away, pink lips laughing and long wavy black hair disappearing in the crowd.

Toshinori is confused, angry, and horny. He takes other omega home and the omega leaves soon after, shouting and swearing.

❄

Toshinori sees him from time to time, always at the same club. He stops going to other clubs. He learns that his name is Shōta Aizawa, and his father is a wealthy businessman who dabbles in politics. Shōta is always dancing with other men (mostly alphas), but every time Toshinori looks over at him, Shōta is watching him.

When Shōta is at the club, the DJ tends to play a lot of American metal beat. Toshinori comes to associate that sound with him.

Once he gets into a fight with one of the alphas flirting with him. It is over by the time Toshinori looks over. The man is on the floor, a dazed look on his face, blood trickling from his swelling nose. The bouncers come and lead the man out, barely glancing at Shōta as they do so.

Eventually Toshinori gets frustrated and bold enough to go over to him. He has noticed that Shōta only wears a single silver necklace, so he shows him his gold rings and necklaces and boasts that he will give Shōta whichever one he asks for.

Shōta laughs at him, teeth white behind pink lips, dark eyes shining cold and lively. One of his fingers runs along his necklace, dips down to make him look at his pale chest. Shōta turns and leaves the club without accepting any of his jewelry.

It is not until years later that he realizes what Shōta was wearing. He had never seen platinum before.

❄

Toshinori is pulling out a rival yakuza’s teeth with pliers, the television chattering in the background. The man’s guards have all fled, leaving the two of them alone. The man is trying to say something, but his mouth is too full of blood, and besides, Toshinori has heard enough begging. The man needs to learn a lesson: one tooth for every thousand he owes.

The phrase “catastrophic death toll” gets his attention, and he pauses, a bloody tooth held in his pliers, watching the news showing footage of broken buildings, giant footprints, people sobbing and talking to the camera. At first the words do not make sense and he wonders whether he is accidentally watching a science fiction movie or a clever commercial.

Toshinori has lost count of how many teeth he has pulled. He looks down at the table he was arranging them on, but he cannot bring himself to count them.

When he leaves, he notices how fragile the buildings in this part of town look.

He does not notice that he left his pliers behind until he is almost home.

❄

Medicine is the first thing to be rationed. The disaster relief effort is the only thing people talk about. Everything is “unprecedented.”

People start stocking up on food and water. There are fights when the stores run out.

At first the clubs are a refuge from the changes in the outside world. Perhaps the songs are louder, the people drink more, the omegas are more desperate; but at least it feels familiar.

Then a rumor starts that there will be a crackdown on criminals, the Tokyo Police are finally taking steps. Everyone knows that Osaka is the place to be, in Osaka the police are yakuzas too, and his friends start moving to Osaka.

There is a massacre at a Osaka gambling hall. “Such a shame,” people say. “Too many yakuzas in one place.”

He has not seen Shōta in a long time when suddenly Shōta reappears one night. The club is almost empty and he comes right up to him and starts dancing. They dance together, perfectly in sync, and for once he does not wonder what Shōta is thinking. Shōta is there, with him, and they dance. He never noticed before how muscular Shōta is (as an omega). The top of his head barely reaches Toshinori’s shoulder.

The DJ plays nothing but American metal beat all night.

When the night is over, he does not ask Shōta to come home with him. He is worried Shōta will reject him again, for old times’ sake.

Toshinori never sees Shōta at a club again.

Chapter 2: 2

There are more beggars in the street since the Kaiju attack. Many are refugees who came to the city from the coastlines, afraid to be near the water. A beta couple (husband and wife) have a cardboard sign saying their son is ill and needs medicine. The son was in Sacramento when the monster attacked and got infected by the taint it left behind, the substance the news program calls 'Kaiju Blue'. The wife sees Toshinori, sees his gold and his clothes, and comes over to beg him for money. She has no pride left, only tears in her eyes and a hollow sort of hope.

When the husband sees, he rushes over and pulls her away, gaping up at Toshinori in fear. The husband apologizes profusely while the wife starts crying.

The husband tells his wife “Not that one, you don’t want to bother one such as he.”

Toshinori is angry, though he is not sure why. Why shouldn’t the woman ask him for money? He would not have given her money, but now that the husband thinks that he will not, he finds himself wanting to prove the man wrong.

Toshinori pulls out a wad of bills, hands her one of the large ones. He does not do it for her sobs of thanks. He only wants to see the surprise in her husband’s eyes and gloat because the man was wrong about him.

He is passing that way again a few weeks later when he sees the husband again. Toshinori later wonders why his first thought is not to think back on his good deed, but instead he thinks, Shit, why did I ever have to give this guy money? Now he will only want more.

Sure enough, the man tells Toshinori that the money paid for a bribe, and the man’s son can have surgery now, but the man and his wife can’t afford the surgery.

Toshinori has heard enough. He has never even seen the man’s son. For all he knows, there is no son. He turns, starts to walk away, when the man bursts into tears.

“Why did I tell my son to come home? He would have received better care in America. But shouldn’t he be with his family, if he is sick? Shouldn’t his father be able to take care of him?”

Cursing himself for a fool, Toshinori holds out another bill to the man.

The man is terrified to refuse, but his love for his son makes him ask. Officials will take cash for bribes, but doctors need something more reliable. His red-rimmed eyes dart toward Toshinori’s chains.

Annoyance rumbles in Toshinori’s chest, but to refuse now would be to leave the job halfway done. He hands over a gold chain. It is not one of his thicker ones, but the man is nevertheless so grateful that he does not know whether to laugh or to cry. Toshinori has had all he can stomach of the man and leaves quickly.

Toshinori runs into the couple once more. This time he almost turns to flee at the sight of them, but the joy on their face makes him pause. They rush over to him and, after an awkward moment of hovering near him, embrace him. The husband’s head reaches Toshinori’s ribcage; the wife’s reaches his stomach.

“We kept waiting here, every day, hoping you would come by. The surgery was a success! It was all thanks to you. You are a good man. Come, come, please. Our son wishes to meet you.”

The hospital is over full. Each room is full of occupied beds, and there are more in the hallway. There has been fighting, robberies, riots.

The couple’s son turns out to be a teenager, gangly and awkward. He gawps at Toshinori  and manages to mutter his thanks, though his parents do most of the talking.

As Toshinori makes his way out, he passes a nurse who gives him a knowing smile. It takes him a moment to recognize Shōta. He is not wearing any makeup, and his hair put in messy bun.

“I heard there was a giant handing out gold chains to the needy,” Shōta tells him. His tone is teasing, but his eyes look at him in a way that makes his heart swell.

After having heard the family thanking him, Toshinori cannot bear having Shōta praise him as well. “I only did it to get them to leave me alone.”

Shōta nods. “You may even believe that.”

Shōta invites him to the hospital cafeteria for a cup of coffee. As he sits across from him, looming over the table, he realizes that he is completely comfortable talking to Shōta. Shōta tells him of the refugees streaming into the city. People are being displaced, disappearing with no-one to find them. Shōta makes him give him his address and promises to check on him. “Though I think you would be hard to lose,” he says. It does not hurt coming from Shōta.

❄

The second Kaiju attack hits Manila, confirming everyone’s fears that there will be more. Food is rationed, prompting protests and riots.

The supply of narcotics is drying up. Toshinori makes a small fortune stockpiling drugs and selling them to desperate yakuzas. He faces the fact that soon he will be out of drugs, too, and decides to go cold turkey.

His first try ends in disaster. He spends a day delirious and in pain. His body feels like it is on fire. He loses his resolve and sinks into despair and the familiar, welcoming oblivion.

His second try lasts him a few days. He takes precautions this time, laying out food and drink for himself and removing all distractions from his apartment that might disturb him in his drug-starved state. He fills the tub with ice and freezing water and lies in it when he can stand it. It feels like his whole world is gray and white and cold, and he is a boy again, standing alone in an empty wasteland, watching a car driving away.

He is alone again.

When his will breaks he feels like he is as hollow as a scarecrow, and as he stuffs himself with drugs he imagines stuffing a scarecrow with straw.

He feels himself again, but he is out of drugs. He considers going to the acquaintances he had sold drugs to and offering to buy them back. He had sold the drugs at a huge profit, but perhaps if he offered to buy them back for even more, they would take pity on him.

No, that would ruin him, and shame him, and besides those drugs are long gone anyway. He has to try again, and this time, he has to succeed.

He doesn’t know what to do differently this time to make it work, so he sets it all up again, the food, the lack of distractions, the tub of ice water, and he tries to ignore the fear that if he tries the same thing again, he will fail again.

This time the delirium hits him sooner. His body feels impossibly heavy, and then unbearably light. He gnashes his teeth until his gums bleed. He roars until his lungs ache. He weeps until he cannot see. Sometimes it feels like he is doing all three.

He is seeing things. He is at the club dancing with his friends, their limbs flailing impossibly because their bodies have been broken by Kaiju. He is as big as a Kaiju himself, trying to find his way back to his apartment but accidentally knocking over buildings and crushing people everywhere he goes. And he sees Shōta, coming to him, his hair like moonless night sky on the snow, his lips like blood. Shōta speaks to him, he holds him, he sings to him.

Sometimes he is gone, and then he calls out to him, “Shōta, Shōta, I am sorry. Help me.” He does not remember what he needs help with, or what he is sorry for, but he knows that he needs him. More than that, he knows that only he can help him.

It takes a long time, but he starts to get better. Every time he gets his hope up, though, the delirium and nausea wash back over him, and he feels himself sinking again, sinking beneath a cold black tide. Shōta is there again, wiping vomit from his shirt, stroking his hair, feeding him.

Finally, he sleeps, so deeply that he does not dream.

When he awakes, he feels weak, dizzy, and hungry. His apartment is empty, so he sets out to find some food. The clerk at the convenience store stares at him, and he realizes he must present a sorry sight, a pale giant who can barely stand.

He takes the food back to his apartment, eats as much as his stomach can stand, and dozes off. When he wakes, he feels stronger. He repeats the process until he feels like himself again.

He has convinced himself that Shōta’s visits were part of his delusions, so when Shōta walks through the door, for a moment he panics and is afraid that he is still going through it. Then Shōta smiles at him and his panic disappears, replaced by a feeling of calm so profound he can feel his anxieties flowing away. Shōta is carrying a plastic bag of Chinese food and walks about the apartment as though he has always lived there. Shōta has put his hair in bun again.

“You’re looking better. It’s good that you have your appetite back, because I am not going to be able to eat all this by myself!”

He had never liked Chinese food much, but after a week of bland convenience store food it is the most delicious thing he has ever eaten. He starts laughing, chuckling at first and then laughing with his mouth full, with him smiling quizzically at him.

Shōta breaks it to him gently: there was a third attack while he was out. This time in Mexico.

He is enraged without understanding why. He stands and paces the apartment, holding his head, stretching out his arms, kicking the wall. All his life, he was big enough to fight anything. To a Kaiju, he is just as tiny as any other human. The thought is unbearably frustrating, and yet for the first time he feels himself part of the crowd.

Shōta can sense his frustration, and he offers him something he can do. The hospital is more crowded than ever, and every day fewer staff show up for work. There is a lot of work to do at the hospital. Lifting people into beds. Pushing beds around. Carrying supplies.

He is good at the work, but there is much to frustrate him. People see how big he is and assume he is clumsy or stupid. He grows tired of people explaining things to him slowly, as if to a child, or reminding him countless time to be careful and take his time. He grumbles and growls. His colleagues see him as the surly giant, moody and taciturn.

He keeps his temper in check only by looking forward to seeing Shōta. He hates the idea of being fired from the job Shōta helped him get. Shōta thought he could do the job, he reminds himself, so he must prove him right.

He does.

Toshinori has plenty of time to think. His most common thought is: why did Shōta do this for him? They were never friends before. He was never nice to Shōta.

He is not a good man. It has never bothered him before, and it does not bother him now as much as it puzzles him.

And yet when Shōta sees him at the hospital, he always smiles, even when he is working double shifts and Toshinori can see the exhaustion in the way he moves. Sometimes they share breaks together and eat in the cafeteria or go for walks nearby.

They do not talk much, but their silence is not uncomfortable.

He knows Shōta fears Shōta is not doing enough.

Months pass.

Shōta races down the hallway toward him, clutching a stack of printouts in his hands. He is carrying a box of linens bound for another floor, and Shōta nearly knocks it out of his hands.

“Look! Look! Giant robots! Robots to fight the monsters!”

Shōta explains it all to him. Shōta is so excited that it all comes out in a jumble, but he does not interrupt him. The papers are printouts from various websites and news sources. Shōta has been researching this, and he uses words like “Pons,” “Neural Handshake,” and “Drift.”

He is excited, too. Now humanity can fight back! He does not know how much of his excitement is his own, and how much of it is merely him reflecting Shōta’s excitement. He does not care.

Shōta holds up a sheet of paper with the Pan Pacific Defense Corps logo at the top.

“They are looking for volunteers! We could do it!”

Again, he wonders, why him? But the question is now so familiar that he does not waste a second thought on it. It is crazy, but he does not have the heart to tell Shōta.

“Let’s apply today!”

Shōta is laughing, relieved that he has agreed. Shōta slaps his shoulder and gives him a strange look, almost shy.

“A giant to pilot a giant!”

He does not mind, when Shōta says it.

“Wait, we need to ensure that they accept us! Let’s get married!”

Blonde bushy eyebrows rise up, and he can feel himself blushing for the first time since he was a child.

Shōta explains, “They will be more likely to accept us if they think we are compatible.”

He hesitates. Shōta nudges him. “Once, you offered to give me any chain or ring you had. I will take you up on that now. Give me a ring for this finger.” Shōta holds up the ring finger of his left hand with the back of his hand to him, like he is flipping him off. Shōta is laughing.

He is not wearing his jewelry while he is at work, but his rings would need to be resized anyway. He selects a pinky ring when he gets home, and even that needs to be made smaller to fit.

A few days later, Toshinori proposes to Shōta by saying, “Here is the ring. See if it fits.”

It fits.

It is a civil ceremony, and it is over before it has even sunk in that they are engaged.

They send off their application. While they wait to hear back, Shōta moves in with him, “To become more in sync with you.” A few weeks later, they receive word that they have been chosen for testing.

Before they go for testing, there is something else Shōta wants to do. About time, he thinks, as Shōta leads him to the bedroom. They walk past the bed and into the bathroom.

He starts laughing when he sees that Shōta has prepared the supplies it will take to cut and remodeled their hair. “So we will look more cool,” Shōta says, laughing too as he takes his shirt off.

When Toshinori has finished helping  Shōta cutting and remodeling his hair, Shōta pulls him onto the bed and they make love for the first time. Shōta straddles his lap and lowers himself onto Toshinori while his hands hold Shōta’s sides, then his hard pale chest, then his (wider than it looks) hips. He watches the powerful muscles of Shōta’s naked body. He has never been with anyone like this let alone an omega. Shōta is truly an omega warrior.

Shōta moans and gasps, and finally shrieks.

Toshinori cries out Shōta’s name.

Shōta falls asleep with his face on Toshinori’s hard chest. He brushes aside his (now much shorter) hair where it tickles his nipple. “My mate,” he whispers, wondering at the words.

Chapter 3: 3

The pilot testing will take place in Tokyo. Though the PPDC is a civilian organization, the base looks military. They live together in a barracks building.

Their first test ends in disaster. Toshinori is nervous the whole time the technicians are hooking him up to the machines. Shōta alternates between giving him encouraging smiles and frustrated glares. He should sit still and stop fidgeting with the gear. Toshinori feels self-conscious about how much he is sweating because the technicians have to get so close to him to set up the machines and check his vitals.

Toshinori panics as soon as the machine is activated. He feels his mind opening to Shōta and he tries to shut him out. He does not want Shōta to see any part of his life: the shame of his childhood, the vileness of his teenage years, the drugs and the flings (women and omegas) and the violence. He is trying so hard to shut Shōta out of those parts of his memories that he inadvertently focuses on them, which causes him to panic even more.

The techs shut down the test. Toshinori is drenched in sweat, his eyes so wide that the whites show all around his iris. He clutches the chair so hard the metal bends.

One of the techs looks at the readout and scoffs. “A new record,” he says sarcastically.

Shōta comes over to him without looking at the techs. He brushes Toshinori’s damp hair from his forehead and takes his hand, leading him from the chair.

They walk back to their quarters. Shōta ignores the looks they get, focusing all his attention on Toshinori. When they are alone in their room, Shōta makes him lie down on the bed and he climbs in with him, pressing his body to Toshinori’s back and whispering reassurances.

When he has calmed down, Shōta starts telling him things about his life. With Shōta’s face between Toshinori’s shoulder blades and his voice low, he starts by telling him about his first time, when his father had bought him an alpha prostitute for Shōta’s first heat. Shōta tells him about things he has stolen, fights he has started, hearts he has broken.

There is silence when Shōta has finished. He does not know what to say. For the first time, he feels like he loves Shōta.

Though each of his sins feels a hundred times as heavy as any of his, Toshinori  begins to slowly tell Shōta. It helps that he cannot see him, only feel Shōta behind him, holding him. He closes his eyes and strokes Shōta’s arm with one hand.

When they return to the testing room the next day, the technicians roll their eyes.

One of them warns, “Another episode like that and you will be on the next train to your home town.” He sounds like he would not mind if they were.

He can feel the panic welling up again as they set him up again. Perhaps it never went away. But then he catches Shōta’s eye and the terror slowly starts to dissolve. Shōta meets his eyes with his piercing dark gaze, his face solemn and drawn. Strength seems to flow from Shōta’s eyes into his. He swallows, allows himself to relax.

The procedure begins and he lets go of his memories. He allows himself to trust Shōta with his experiences while he drifts through Shōta’s memories. He sees Shōta study at a private school as a young boy. He sees Shōta take drugs and have sex with a beta couple in a back room at the club his father owns while the DJ plays American metal beat for the boss’ son. He sees Shōta get jumped in a back alley by an alpha with a switchblade, but Shōta knocks him down, and keep hitting him long after he has stopped moving.

Then he sees himself, through his eyes. He is used to everyone being shorter than him, so it never occurred to him how tall Shōta is for an omega. Shōta does not wear boots with thick soles or high heels (like most omegas), and yet he still spends as much time looking for a man tall enough to dance with him as Shōta does actually dancing. Then one day there he is, at the center of the dance floor, and everyone else must move around him as though he exerts a gravitational pull. That pull draws Shōta in and they are dancing together. For once Shōta does not feel that people are measuring Shōta up against the man he is dancing with. Next to Toshinori, Shōta fits.

When the technicians shut down the connection, Toshinori  is astounded to know that they kept the connection for twenty minutes. The test only required ten in order to pass.

Shōta gives him a fierce smile when he hears this. “Perhaps someday we should see how long we can go for.”

“Forever!” he says, and means it.

❄

They must learn fighting skills before they can pilot a Jaeger. Greco-Roman wrestling, Muay Thai, Krav Maga. He has experience with fighting, but has never received formal instruction. Shōta has taken self-defense and martial arts courses, but has rarely had to put those skills to use. They work together in their quarters after classes to teach each other what they know. Shōta teaches him how to practice techniques without getting impatient. Toshinori shows Shōta how to control the fight and finish it decisively.

When they start sparring, the other trainees are afraid to step into the ring with him. But he finds it hard to suppress his instincts to win, so he does moves that are forbidden in the style they should be practicing, which costs him matches. The other trainees pick up on that and begin to taunt him silently, making faces or rude gestures when the instructor cannot see them in order to get him to lose his temper.

He grows tired of losing fights he should have won just because of some technicalities. One day he is practicing Greco-Roman wrestling with a burly, red-haired trainee with curly hair on his shoulders. As the two alpha male circle each other, watching for an opening, the redhead indicates Shōta  and mimes him sucking his dick. Toshinori  roars as he throws a punch that sends the man crashing to the floor.

The whole room is silent. The redhead lies on the ground, clutching his broken jaw and moaning. Toshinori glances over at Shōta. His face is paler than usual and his dark eyes are wide. He cannot bear to look at Shōta.

There is a police station on the base and he is taken there and locked up. All he can do is sit on the tiny cot and hold his head in his hands. He does not care about what will happen to him, or about the man he injured. All he can think about is how this was Shōta’s dream and he has ruined it. Will Shōta even want to be his mate any more if they cannot be Jaeger pilots? No, of course not. Shōta only mated him so they would be accepted.

In the morning they come for him. There are guards, but also the base commander and several of the senior staff. He does not see any of them though, because all he sees is Shōta. His eyes are red as though he has been crying, but his face is set and determined.

When they let him out of the cell, he takes his hand. “We will show them,” he whispers fiercely. He nods and gives Shōta’s hand a squeeze. He knows what he must do.

The technicians have already prepared the equipment for the neural handshake when they arrive in the lab. The group is quiet as Toshinori  and Shōta climb into the chair. He wants to ask someone how long they have to maintain the connection to be allowed to stay, but he does not want to know the minimum. They must excel, together, or it is over.

The neural link bridges the space between them, and he feels their minds overlap.

Shōta is nervous, and he feels that emotion struggling to establish itself in his mind. He has to calm Shōta now or they will not be able to get in sync. He thinks to him, If I am going to be in this chair for hours, I wish they’d gotten me a bigger chair.

Shōta does not laugh, but Toshinori senses his grateful smile.

He sees himself break a colleague’s jaw in anger in his memories, and shame burns in his heart. He feels how frightening it is for Shōta to see him lose control.

Shōta knows that his anger comes from shame and fear, and he wonders if he ever realized before how true that was. He promises himself, and therefore Shōta, that he will fight to keep his anger in check. It will always be a part of him, but together they will learn to control it and direct it against their enemies.

Their link is established now, and they have to hold it. It is a strain to have another person’s mind in your own, and equally exhausting to be in someone else’s mind. The stronger the link, the harder to tell who is in whose mind.

When he opens his eyes, he is seeing the room through two sets of eyes. He sees the people in the room as if for the first time. A muscular technician with his hair in a ponytail reminds Shōta of a favorite uncle from his childhood. He used to run around with him on his shoulders, and Shōta remembers finding his body in his mistress’ apartment the day after they announced his company had been bought out.

One of the officials in the room keeps staring at his cleavage, and Toshinori  thinks with him, Let him look. He won’t be getting any of this!

 

Shōta glances over at Toshinori and he finds himself looking at himself from Shōta’s point of view. He merely has to think about raising an eyebrow and he is already receiving Shōta’s reply. If we make it through this, then maybe.

He feels Shōta’s excitement at the prospect of spending another night with him, and he knows that their bond has always been more than physical. When Shōta first saw Toshinori at the club, Shōta saw more than a man big enough for him to dance with. He was a yakuza and a thug, and now he starts to understand that Shōta did not see past that: Shōta saw it as part of his larger identity.

Shōta never pitied him. Not even when he lay in a tub of ice water, out of his mind for a hit. Shōta does not see him as a man who can be pitied. Toshinori learned a lesson as a child that he could never shrink from anything. He had to face whatever came at him, and either he would break through or he would be broken. Shōta saw this the moment he met Toshinori, and Shōta loves him for it now.

Toshinori finds that he already knows Shōta more than he ever realized. Shōta’s thoughts do not surprise him, and Shōta’s memories feel as comfortable in his head as his own. He knows why Shōta spends half an hour in front of a mirror braiding his hair before every self-defense class he took: it was his way of saying, I am here to kick ass as an omega, not despite being an omega.

The technicians and officials come and go. He does not know if he is thirsty or he is feeling Shōta’s thirst, so they both drink a glass of water.

Sometimes having Shōta in Shōta’s mind is easy, but sometimes it starts to grate. He does not object to thinking Shōta’s thoughts, but it bothers him when he does not know if a thought is Shōta’s or his.

Toshinori knows more about him, not because he is learning Shōta’s past, but because Shōta has always known it. Shōta worked in the hospital because he had to do something, but he resented the officious staff who bossed him around. They saw him as a headstrong rich omega and kept an eye on him to make sure he stayed busy.

Shōta cared for people indirectly affected by the previous Kaiju attacks, and Shōta grew frustrated because nobody was doing anything to stop the next attack. That was why the Jaeger program meant so much to him.

That is why we will succeed today. It is not his thought, nor is it Shōta’s. The thought is theirs.

Toshinori and Shōta eat and drink while connected. They empty their bladders into buckets, and feel no shame because they both experience the other person’s perspective. When they finish, they shared a mental laugh at the expense of the technicians who cannot make eye contact with them.

Shōta sends Toshinori a cheeky thought of something else they can do while connected.

Toshinori smiles and convinces him to have pity on the poor technicians. There will be time for that later, when we celebrate our success.

When they finally break the connection, it is only because they are starting to lose track of which of them is which. He spends a moment trying to recall whether his name is Shōta or Toshinori, and he knows it is time to stop. Their voices are perfectly in sync when they ask the technicians to terminate the test.

“22 hours.” The technician sounds exhausted just from having observed their feat.

Toshinori stumbles when he stands. He feels half-blind, half-deaf, and half-stupid now that only his mind is inhabiting his head.

When they reach their quarters, they are too exhausted to celebrate. They fall asleep on the same cot because they cannot bear to be across the room from each other after being connected for so long.

Chapter 4: 4

The Tokyo Shatterdome is a hulking structure of concrete reinforced with steel. Toshinori is disappointed by its squat and ugly shape: the Incheon Shatterdome looks like a castle from the future, but the Japanese version is like some throwback to the past, part bunker and part fortress. It feels right, though. Even the disappointment feels right. This is what it means to protect Japan, he thinks. He catches Shōta’s eye and they share that moment as their truck gets swallowed up by the building. This is about more than fighting back against the Kaiju. They fight on behalf of all Japanese, to protect the world.

They can’t wait.

An engineer comes to welcome them to the base. He offers them a tour, but suggests they drop their things off at their quarters. Without a word, Toshinori and Shōta walk right past the astonished man. It is not hard to find Echo Saber: it stands at the heart of the building.

They walk right up to it until it towers over them, 265 hulking feet of armor and pistons, golden in color with big and long katana in it left’s hand and napal cannon in it's right hand. It is determination personified.

Toshinori feels Shōta take his hand in his, his grip firm. Here they are at last.

❄

It feels like they must go through endless tests, demonstrations, and lectures before they are finally allowed inside Echo Saber. They have to learn how to move in the harness, how to read the Jaeger’s position and motion, how to respond to damage or breakdown. It is all important, and Toshinori learns it all. He did well in school, before he dropped out, and now he surprises the engineers with insightful questions and observations.

They learn that, because the Conn-Pod is located in Echo Saber’s chest, there can be no escape pod.

“Good,” says Toshinori. “We were not planning on running anyway.”

Shōta nods, his jaw set and his eyes fierce. “We win or we die.”

When the day finally comes, they take an elevator up to the Conn-Pod. Their armor is bulky, but they stand tall. They get into the harness, taking their time to make sure everything is attached securely and visually checking each other.

The harness activates around them, lifting them up and holding them in the air. The neural link is familiar now, and they recognize their own excitement mirrored in each other.

They start by taking a few small, shuffling steps around the hangar bay. They learn how to move deliberately, giving the Jaeger enough time to catch up with each motion before starting the next one.

When they grow tired of inching around the bay, they decide to break protocol and throw a few punches. The momentum of each punch makes the machine stagger around, and they narrowly miss slamming into the wall.

Angry commands come in over the coms, but they do not care. They are too busy grinning at each other, sharing the same thought: this feels like a machine that can kill Kaiju.

❄

A snowstorm howls around Echo Saber as they wait for their first Kaiju. Their main concern is that they will miss it in the storm. The Jaeger is built to patrol and wait, designed to protect the vast Japanese coastline, but its pilots are anxious to fight.

Suddenly the Kaiju looms up before them like a cliff, a dark shape in the storm.

Toshinori and Shōta prepare to fight it, raising the heavy sword of their robot. As the great machine lumbers toward its opponent, thin sheets of ice snap off of its form. Cold, snow, and ice are no threat to Echo Saber. The machine is Mark-4 -the latest upgrade-, so it’s nothing for it.

The Kaiju is impossibly huge. They have become used to seeing the monsters in news reports. The clips have been replayed so many times that they have become almost mythic. There is a moment of mental disconnect as they struggle with the reality of the Kaiju being there with them, so real they could reach out and touch it. Then it reaches out and touches them.

The beast’s hands are heavy clubs, studded with bony growths. Its head is mostly a brow, which it lowers, bull-like, as it swings its powerful fists at them.

The blows ring in the pilots’ ears as their bodies rock in the harnesses. They deploy the spikes in Echo Saber’s feet, anchoring themselves into the ice and rock as they swing their first punch.

The blow connects with the side of the Kaiju’s head, knocking the beast sideways and sending it sprawling. The monster comes up again, fists swinging, and Echo Saber swings it’s sword this time.

The battle is brutal, the giant robot and the giant monster exchanging blow for blow. Armor plates buckle along the Jaeger’s body while fractures and deep gashes appear in the Kaiju’s skin, blue blood spilling onto the snow.

Toshinori and Shōta are relentless. Adrenaline sings in their blood, drowning out exhaustion and fear. Their muscles hurt, their joints ache, and their heads are almost splitting, but they keep up the pace of punch after punch. Toshinori and Shōta wince in unison with each blow that glances off the Kaiju’s armor. They share a grin when they land a solid blow. The monster’s screams wail with the blizzard.

Once the monster swings both arms into Saber’s side, catching it at an awkward angle. The machine stumbles and nearly topples as one of its feet comes tearing free from the ground. Toshinori and Shōta experience a moment of vertigo as Echo Saber leans too far over, but with a united effort they manage to keep it on its feet. They stomp the heavy foot down, finding solid rock, and cut the sword again.

❄

After two solid hours, the pilots are fighting through the pain of the grueling battle. The coms team back at the Shatterdome has been observing their status and informs them that they are suffering from concussions, and their bones are close to breaking.

The movements of the Kaiju start to slacken. Its blows are losing force, and each time they knock it down, it takes longer to get back up.

The couple nods and surge forward, drawing on desperate reserves of strength, and wrap Saber’s right arm around the beast’s neck and shoulder. With other arm they swing their sword at its face, and put force to it.

They hold the monster a moment longer -trying to control their breathing-, then release it. It falls heavily onto the snow, split in two from head to chest, thousands of pounds of dead flesh.

The word comes through their coms: they need to make sure. They cut the remaining body in half with Echo Saber’s big sword.

Toshinori and Shōta are too exhausted and injured to make the trip back to the Shatterdome. With the battle over, they are overwhelmed with the pain of two bodies and minds. As they wait for the helicopters to come pick them up, a realization hits them: this Kaiju killed nobody, thanks to them.

❄

They heal. Though there is worldwide rationing, Jaeger pilots receive the finest medical care available. They are humanity’s best hope for survival.

At first, they are placed in separate hospital rooms, but they both insist on being together. When they wheel Shōta’s bed into Toshinori’s room, he smiles. He is not daunted by Shōta’s bruises or the IV in his hand. He sees Shōta resolve and knows he will get well, because he will accept nothing else from himself.

When they are recovered, they meet with a PPDC representative. They have become celebrities since their victory over the Kaiju. Fans are buying Echo Saber merchandise. An American tabloid newspaper tries to sell issues by exposing the sordid pasts of Toshinori  and Shōta, but the move backfires and the pilots are more popular than ever. Let the Americans keep their clean-cut heroes, and the Korean can have their picture-perfect pretty boys. In Japan, people love bad boys and bad girls.

They are flown to Tokyo to appear on talk shows. Shōta does most of the talking, which is fine by Toshinori. The chairs on stage are meant to look comfortable, but they never are, and they are never large enough for him. He tries to insist that he does not want any makeup, but they put makeup on him anyway. “You have good bones,” says one young man, sighing with envy, and Toshinori feels a little better.

The interviewers can’t seem to stop themselves from commenting on his size. “If Saber breaks down, you can just hop out and put a Kaiju in a headlock, right?” laughs a host in a ridiculous toupee. That interview ends up being a short one.

Another interview is more fun. “Tell me how you two first met,” asks a good-looking older woman. Toshinori and Shōta have great fun making things up, and the interviewer goes along with it, as though she is in on the joke.

In Tokyo, people with spiky blonde hair with two distinct tufts sticking up above his head are everywhere.

Before they return to the Shatterdome, Shōta takes Toshinori to a music store to buy the latest album by his favorite American metal beat artist. They both laugh uproariously when they see a familiar silhouette on the album cover, under the title “Badass Echo Saber Kicking ass!”

There is much to do while waiting for the next Kaiju. Toshinori goes through endless simulations, both alone and with Shōta. They work on new techniques to learn what Echo Saber is capable of and how to push the Jaeger to its limits.

Shōta encourages Toshinori to take up his studies. He wants to learn engineering so that he can understand more about their Jaeger, but he has a lot of catching up to do. There is a lot of math and he is quickly frustrated. He feels stupid when he cannot grasp certain concepts, no matter how many times he reads the information. Shōta  calms him down and gently convinces him to take a break and come back to it.

It is slow going, but he makes progress.

Shōta, meanwhile, is learning languages. He already knew English, some Chinese and now he studies Korean and Russian as well. He explains that it is so that he can talk to the other Jaeger pilots should the need arise.

Toshinori and Shōta make love most nights. Their job is to pilot a giant robot against giant monsters to protect the world, but at night they put all that aside to lose themselves in each other. Sometimes their sex is gentle, but more often they go at it with joyful power.

Twice they have to contact the base’s supply division to get a new bed in the middle of the night, and they grin the whole time it is being installed.

❄

They fight their second Kaiju off the coast of Tokyo, dangerously close to the Shatterdome. The PPDC analysts had expected the creature to surface in South-Korea, and Dancing Tiger has been waiting for it. When the analysts realize their mistake, Dancing Tiger is too far away to help, and the Japanese works frantically to get Echo Saber launched in time.

They fight the Kaiju in freezing water. It comes up to Echo Saber’s waist, but the machine was built to handle full immersion, so they should be all right.

As long as the Conn-Pod is not breached, Toshinori thinks.

❄

Shōta’s reply thought is, Then let us make sure it is not.

The Kaiju has a lithe body with long limbs and an elongated head with a wicked beak. Its back bristles with bladelike spines, rising and falling as the sinuous beast dashes through the shallows.

The creature is moving too quickly for them to retract the sword from Saber’s back. Instead, they activate the machine gun like cannon in Saber’s right arm which will shoot destruction ray.

When the Kaiju attacks, it slashes their armor with sharp claws. The metal screeches, but the heavy armor holds. Saber stomps close and starts shooting at it. The creature is thin and muscular, it also flexible, it dodges the shoots and continues in its attack. It stays on the move, forcing Saber to keep lumbering toward it (trying to use fists instead) as the beast darts forward to rend the Jaeger’s weak spots, then dances out of reach before they can land a solid punch.

It is frustrating fighting like this, and Shōta can feel Toshinori’s temper rise. He clenches his jaw until his teeth grind together, mentally willing the creature to stand still for just one moment so that they can get a solid punch, or shoot or cut or whatever shit they can threw at it.

Their connection starts to falter.

Wait, Shōta pleads in Toshinori’s mind. He focuses on remaining calm, forcing himself to reject the frustration flowing across the connection from him. Our chance will come, but you have to wait for an opening.

Toshinori is not listening. He keeps pushing forward, throwing punches, dragging his mind along with his. Voices come through their coms of technicians warning them that the connection is about to break.

Trust me, Alpha.

Toshinori stops.

There is silence on the coms, as though the technicians are holding their breaths.

The Kaiju circles toward them, striking out, gouging their armor.

Echo Saber backs up slowly, watching for an opening.

The Kaiju gets bolder, aiming for the weak spots in the Jaeger’s joints. For a moment, one of its claws sticks in the machinery in Echo Saber’s left underarm.

Now.

Toshinori puts his rage behind the blow and the two of them strike together. Saber brings its right arm around in a furious hook, slamming full on into the Kaiju’s face. The force of the blow creates a shockwave that momentarily blasts away the water underneath the point of impact, so that the Jaeger and Kaiju are briefly standing in a bowl of water before it all comes rushing back over them.

The Kaiju has gone limp like a ragdoll. Echo Saber grabs the creature’s beak with both hands and pulls until the beast’s head splits apart.

Toshinori and Shōta are jubilant. Not only have they killed their second Kaiju, proving that their first kill was no fluke, but Toshinori has also managed to control his rage and redirect it at the monster.

❄

There is no such thing as an easy fight against Kaiju, but Shōta and Toshinori become good at it. Echo Saber is fast, tough and strong. It can take the punishment from Kaiju (the fast one like before) until an opening appears, and then destroy the monsters.

New Jaegers are built and appointed to the Tokyo Shatterdome. Niten-Ichi and Anathema Device (both are Mark-5) join Echo Saber. Though they are faster and equipped with more advanced weapons, Saber remains the cornerstone of the Japanese Jaeger Program.

Toshinori and Shōta teach the two new teams about killing Kaiju. The new pilots are proud to be selected and look forward to the opportunity to use the newly-designed weapons on their Jaegers, but for all their fancy moves and shiny gear, neither team walks as tall as Toshinori and Shōta when they are called to their trusty war machine.

The first Kaijus were Category One, but soon the Jaegers are fighting Category Two and even Category Three Kaijus.

The new Jaeger pilots start earning kills, establishing them as vital pieces of the PPDC.

Everyone is shaken when Niten-Ichi is crushed to death defending Pyongyang.

A few months later, Anathema Device is torn apart outside Busan.

Each time, it is Echo Saber that is sent to stop the Kaiju, and Toshinori and Shōta have to do it knowing that they are facing a creature that has just taken down another Jaeger.

Each time, they are victorious, and they make love those nights knowing that they are the ones who survived.

Chapter 5: 5

When they receive word that the Jaeger program is being shut down and the Tokyo Shatterdome is to be closed, Shōta bows his head in frustration.

Toshinori marches up to the director’s room. Without a word, he grabs the man’s mahogany desk and strains until he lifts it from the floor, spilling papers and files. The director watches, his face white and mouth open, while Toshinori turns and sends the desk crashing through the office’s plate glass wall before storming off.

They are reassigned to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the last functioning base, to await the completion of the Anti-Kaiju Wall and the final termination of the Jaeger program. By the time they are moved into their new quarters, Shōta has calmed Toshinori down. They are determined to see this through to the end.

Marshal Erwin Smith welcomes them to the base. Though he raises an eyebrow at their hair style, he speaks to them with respect. To Shōta and Toshinori, it is like meeting a legend. They are used to being the veteran Jaeger pilots at the Tokyo Shatterdome, so they are humbled to meet someone who was fighting Jaegers before they were.

Erwin understands their frustration over the closure of the Jaeger program. “We’ll see if we can get you a few more Kaiju to kill before this is all over,” he promises. When he leaves them, hands them a disc. “I know this isn’t home, but maybe it will help.” It is the last American metal beat CD that was released before the record label shut down to save money for the war effort. The album turns out to be terrible, but Shōta and Toshinori will listen to it a lot in the coming weeks.

Toshinori likes Erwin already.

With only three functional Jaegers, the Shatterdome becomes a mixed bag of experienced pilots.

The Lán brothers are former street fighters who were groomed to be media sweethearts when they were chosen to be Jaeger pilots. The Chinese government took them from being scarred, vicious warriors to international superstars with a hunky image to match.

At first, Toshinori thinks the boys are nothing but handsome faces whose success comes entirely from the quality of their Mark-4 Jaeger, Centurion Titan. But as he gets to know them, he sees that the fire that sustained them through years of brutal street fights still burns under their carefully manicured exterior. When it comes to killing Kaiju, they make it their life’s goal to learn the strengths and weaknesses of every Kaiju on record, and to come up with new techniques to fight them. When Wangji offers to share their notes with Shōta and Toshinori, they gratefully take him up on his offer, and Toshinori asks Shōta to thank them on his behalf.

Toshinori and Shōta were already familiar with Vulcan Specter and its pilots, the veteran John Winchester and his son Dean. Vulcan Specter is the first Mark-6 Jaeger, and with the impending closure of the Jaeger program it sounds like it is likely to be the only Mark-6 ever built.

Toshinori likes John from the moment they meet. The man is quiet and serious, and after introducing himself, the first thing he says is, “From what I hear, the two of you have not only been defending the Japanese coast, but you’re the ones who step up when Jaegers fall and Kaijus are about to reach cities.”

Dean immediately makes the opposite impression when he cracks, “Well, you don’t need to worry about that now we’re here. We’ll probably be the ones coming to your aid when that old scrap heap breaks down.” He ignores his father’s look of warning and continues, leering at Shōta, “I wonder how grateful you’ll be when we save you?”

Toshinori growls and steps forward, but Shōta puts a hand on his arm to stop him. Shōta tosses his head and takes a step toward Dean. He puts his hands on Dean’s chest, feeling the strong muscles there. His response is in perfect English. “Oh, what a strong alpha boy you are!” A cocky grin appears on his face just a moment before Shōta sends him sprawling with a shove.

Shōta laughs and walks back to Toshinori, who is grinning. Shōta weaves one arm around Toshinori's waist and says, “But I need a real alpha, not a boy.”

To Toshinori’s surprise, John is smiling as he helps his son up. The elder alpha claps his son on the shoulder. “Let this be a lesson to you: never piss off a Japanese omegas.”

Dean gives them both a wary look, but from that day forward, he always treats the two of them with respect.

In addition to Echo Saber, Centurion Titan, and Vulcan Specter, there is a fourth Jaeger at the Shatterdome. Toshinori learns that it is Strider Zeta, the American Jaeger that famously lost one of its pilots in a fight up in Alaska.

Shōta tells Toshinori of the time he decided to take a closer look at Strider Zeta and met a young Japanese woman working on finishing its restoration project, Sakura Haruno. Toshinori scoffs when Shōta tells him how small Sakura is, but Shōta warns him not to underestimate Sakura. “Someday, that young omega will make a fierce Jaeger pilot.”

Toshinori nods and accepts his mate’s assessment without question. He kisses Shōta and proclaims, “But not as fierce as you!”

Shōta grins. “How do you know that? You haven’t even met her yet.”

“Because no-one is as fierce as my Shōta!”

❄

When Loki Odinson arrives at the Shatterdome, Toshinori is not impressed. Loki has a look about him like he is always considering turning around and leaving. Shōta agrees. If you are to pilot a Jaeger, you must be ready to totally commit, or not do it at all.

Toshinori and Shōta cannot tell why Erwin spends so much time looking for the person who will pilot Strider Zeta with Loki. The answer seems so obvious. Only Sakura has the commitment Loki needs in order to form a successful partnership.

Toshinori and Shōta watch from the level of the Jaeger’s plasma cannon when Sakura and Loki enter the Drift together for the first time. Though the two Japanese are in danger, they see the real danger as being to the two pilots if they cannot sort through their issues. When Shōta turns away from the charging weapon to evacuate the area, he shrugs. “Sometimes people are so hard-headed that it takes them a while to realize just how Drift compatible they are.”

❄

There have never been two Kaiju at the same time before, and the fact that they are Category Four Kaiju means that this will be a challenge unlike any they have faced before. When they establish the neural handshake, Toshinori can feel that Shōta is eager to get to blows with the enemy.

With Centurion Titan alongside, Echo Saber goes into battle, ready to defend the city from Otachi and Leatherback.

At first, there is no sign of Leatherback, and the fight against Otachi starts off strong. Saber is a Jaeger that has survived many fights, and its pilots know how to get the most out of it. They land several solid blows, but the Kaiju does not seem fazed.

When Otachi strikes Echo Saber, it is clear that this monster is stronger than anything the Jaeger has faced before.

A grim thought enters Toshinori’s mind: they have always relied on brute strength and toughness to win, but these newest Kaiju are better in every way than the monsters they have fought before.

The same thought enters Shōta’s mind, and he adds to it: it does not matter how tough these Kaiju are, or how old Echo Saber is. They will do what they have always done: fight to the best of their ability.

The fight continues, and frustration starts to mount. Centurion Titan’s Lightning Strike seems to do little against the thick-skinned Kaiju, which destroys one of the Chinese Jaeger’s claws. The Lán brothers manage an impressive maneuver where their Jaeger, grappling with Otachi, lifts itself out of the water, rotates, and uses its momentum to hurl the Kaiju toward Echo Saber.

Toshinori and Shōta take the opportunity to renew their attack on the Kaiju, but before they can do much, Otachi suddenly whips out a wicked tail at Centurion Titan’s head. The Japanese watch in disbelief as the Chinese pilots are killed and their Jaeger crashes into the water.

They can hear an argument over the coms. Marshal Erwin orders Vulcan Specter to stay back and protect the city, but the Winchesters disobey and start rushing to Echo Saber’s aid.

For Toshinori and Shōta, running is not an option. Toshinori can feel the anger rising up in him, but he pushes it down and keeps it in check. That will not help them now. They renew their attack on Otachi, only to have the creature pull back.

Neither of them is prepared for what happens next. A blue organ in the Kaiju’s throat swells up, and the creature expels a stream of bright blue acid onto Saber’s head and shoulders.

Alarms start going off in the Conn-Pod. The acid is burning through the Jaeger’s armor at a frightening rate. Toshinori knows that Shōta can feel his rage, but he sends him back his resolve to finish the fight.

They are both so focused on Otachi that they do not even notice Leatherback emerge until the second Kaiju tears off Echo Saber’s arm.

Toshinori does not know what to do, but to Shōta, nothing has changed. They fight. With its remaining arm, Echo Saber starts swinging its katana at the bulky hard skinned Leatherback with no avail. The huge creature retaliates by tearing into Echo Saber’s chest, breaking open the Conn-Pod.

Cold air hits Toshinori and Shōta, chilling the sweat that has gathered under their armor. Through a haze of pain and confusion they can feel Saber falling, metal grinding and screaming, and then freezing cold water is spilling in all around them.

Toshinori does not even have a chance to fill his lungs with air before he is submerged in the dark, icy water.

He is back in a tub of ice water, a junkie out of his mind from withdrawals.

He is standing in a desolate wilderness, a child abandoned by his brother.

All alone.

No, you are not alone. He can feel Shōta’s love for him, Shōta’s fierce giant. He also senses Shōta’s fear: fear that Shōta will lose him now, not to death, but to despair. He will not allow that.

Toshinori will not allow Shōta to die alone.

Toshinori tears himself away from the past. He is here with Shōta now, dying in the giant robot they piloted to save the world from giant monsters. Together.

Not alone

Notes:

https://twitter.com/punchxxi?t=dGR6X1cYRKgp47a-hCdQEw&s=09