Chapter Text
In retrospect, those stationed at the Yokohama base would come to accept that what happened that day was inevitable.
In the days and weeks immediately following, however, acceptance, even for those who already knew, would be hard to come by.
Accepted or not, however, after that day nothing was ever quite the same again.
Dazai woke the morning of June 4th from a nightmare, one he’d been having on a fairly regular basis for the past week or two. He bolted upright, a panicked shout of Chuuya’s name on his lips as for a moment the dream blended with reality.
That panic grew as he realized he was sitting up and there had been no resistance to that movement. Normally, he and Chuuya clung to each other in their sleep, the redhead’s weight a grounding presence even in his dreams. (Literally, most nights- they’d started invading each other's dreams some months before. Chuuya had never visited this one, though, and somehow that made it even worse.)
Today, though… today, his boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, the sheets cold, and the panic from his dream threatened to overwhelm him- until he noticed the blinking light on his phone.
Hands shaking, he unplugged it, then unlocked the screen to read the message from Chuuya.
>[0132] Couldn’t sleep. Working on baki til breakfast<
Right.
A sigh, whether of relief or annoyance he wasn’t quite sure, passed Dazai’s lips, and he flopped back on the bed. The one that followed it, though, was definitely annoyed as he noticed the time.
0357. And I doubt I’m getting back to sleep anytime soon. Fuck.
>Want some company?<
The response took a few minutes, time Dazai used to crawl out of bed and make himself a cup of coffee.
>Sure<
>You ok?<
>Nightmare. Same as last time<
>K. Wiring the amp atm. Yell when you get here<
>k<
Chuuya frowned as he set his phone aside. It was plugged into a handy charging port at his table, so it wasn’t like he could take it with him, given that it was nearly dead. He… may have forgotten to plug it in when he’d tried to sleep.
He didn’t like that Dazai hadn’t been able to shake off the nightmare - usually they weren’t that persistent. For this one, it didn’t matter if Chuuya was there or not; Dazai woke up every night, and was almost never able to get back to sleep. At least he’d gotten a few hours in tonight. Chuuya had stayed for a while trying to fall asleep before he’d given up on it and figured he might as well make the most of the time.
For now he floated back up into the Jaeger, continuing the work he’d started.
“Chuuya?” Dazai called as he walked into Baki’s bay about twenty minutes later. He’d taken the time to finish his coffee, hoping the caffeine would jolt his mind awake enough to get past the dream, but it hadn’t, not really. He could feel the redhead on the other end of their link, but for some reason he was still quietly panicking. “I’m here.”
Setting aside the parts he had been piecing together (it wasn’t like he didn’t have an idea how they would go whether he finished it right now or not) Chuuya poked his head out of the cavity he’d been wedged into. The expression on Dazai’s face (sadly familiar to him now after a few days of it) had him falling out of the tight space, righting himself to land gently on the floor just a bit from his boyfriend.
“Hey, Osamu,” the redhead greeted him, holding his arms out in an invitation.
It was an invitation Dazai took gladly, walking into his boyfriend’s arms, the leftover panic finally subsiding at the very real warmth and weight of him. He buried his face in Chuuya’s hair, the smell of strawberry shampoo mixing with grease into something very distinctly Chuuya, and realized he’d been trembling only when he stopped.
“Hey,” he murmured, half muffled by hair. “What kept you up?”
Chuuya shrugged. The best answer he had was that he couldn’t stop thinking about how close Arahabaki was to being done combined with the feeling that he had to move, that he was wasting time and the urge to do something had burned under his skin. He’d stayed long enough to make sure that Dazai was sleeping peacefully (at least at the time) before he’d left.
“Brain wouldn’t shut up, I guess.”
Dazai nodded. “I know how that feels, trust me,” he said. “Anything I can do to help?”
Chuuya shrugged again.
“I usually spar, train, or work on something until whatever the issue is works itself out,” he explained, even though it wasn’t really the first time something like this had occurred. “Do you want a distraction or to talk about stuff?”
“I-” Dazai stopped, then shook himself. It’d been a while since he was this off-kilter. “Distraction. I need to stop thinking about this. It’s-”
A horrifying realization crept into his mind. It’s like Flawless.
And then- Did Odasaku see something like this?
Did he already know how Mimic would end up?
Is that why-
He looked up at Chuuya. Somewhere in the past few seconds he’d gone to his knees without even realizing it. “Can…”
Dazai swallowed. “I really just need to hold you right now. Can we go find somewhere to sit for a while?”
“Back to the room or somewhere more public?” the redhead asked softly, his hands stroking down Dazai’s arms, over his hands, never pausing for more than a few seconds on any particular spot. Sure the need to move was still present - wiring the amp wasn’t exactly the most strenuous job - but he was used to that and Dazai needed him more.
“The room, I think,” Dazai replied, getting to his feet. Yes, it was 0430, but this was a military base; there was always someone out and about. And he really didn’t feel like being interrupted. Chuuya’s caresses were soothing, sending bits of warmth down his skin, and he leaned into it for a moment before taking one of those hands in his and kissing it. “Thank you.”
“No problem, love,” Chuuya said, the corner of his lips twitching up. The reminder that they weren’t alone, that Chuuya wasn’t some figment of his imagination, helped but sometimes the presence of other people was too much. “Let’s get going then. I can finish this up later.”
They spent the rest of the morning in bed, the sound of random TV shows filling the background. Dazai and Chuuya said little; words weren’t really necessary just then. What mattered to Dazai was touch- the hands that never stopped caressing him, Chuuya’s weight on him as they lay together- that, more than anything reassured the brunette that the other was still there, that the events of his dream hadn’t happened, but…
It was just after lunch, and Dazai had actually managed to slip back into a light, if fitful, doze, when an almost painfully loud sound rang throughout the base.
Attack sirens.
Chuuya didn’t glance over to Dazai as he rolled out of bed, grabbing his phone and extending a hand to his partner. Soukoku wasn’t the only Jaeger available right now, but it was probably going to be the best option; the Kaiju had been getting more difficult lately, and the mechanics had been working on Steel Blossom today. He might not be put back together yet.
Until he was ready, Soukoku might have to fight alone.
Dazai took Chuuya’s hand, pulling himself up with a grunt of effort. He still wasn’t quite back on an even keel, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone into a fight like this. The brunette used their joined hands to pull the other close, holding him and grounding himself for just a second longer, then sighed. “Alright. Let’s go do this.”
It didn’t take the two of them long to suit up- by now, the motions were almost second nature. Soukoku was booted up and waiting by the time they made it to the bay, and Gin and Higuchi started hooking them up as Ranpo’s voice came over the coms.
“Chuuya, Dazai,” the voice said, and the tone alone told them something big was happening, “we have a double event. Our first ever, both category 3. Steel Blossom’s being buttoned up as we speak, but it’s going to be at least thirty minutes before we can get him online to support you, and they’re too close to wait.”
Ranpo paused for a moment, and Dazai could hear bits and pieces of a background discussion. “We’re calling them Raijin and Fujin. There’s evidence of electrical activity, and…”
“And Fujin can fly,” Dazai whispered, in tandem with Ranpo’s words. Fuck.
It’s today.
Chuuya closed his eyes and focused, centering himself. This wasn’t going to be an easy fight, and something about it was off-putting to Dazai for some reason.
Better Soukoku than Steel Blossom to start off with anyway. They had more ranged capability just due to Sorrow alone, even if their digital systems put them at a disadvantage against electrical attacks.
“Ranpo, what’s the weather like out there? Any evidence of storms or anything else to worry about?” the redhead asked, hoping against hope that the universe wasn’t going to make this fight any harder than it had to be. If they could just focus on the Kaiju rather than fighting everything out there…
“Weather’s clear and sunny,” Ranpo answered.
Yosano’s voice cut in. “Dazai, are you alright? Your vitals are off.”
Dazai shook his head. “I’m good. Just a rough night.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, but there really wasn’t a choice here. Steel Blossom wouldn’t be ready in time, and Chuuya was the only one equipped to deal with a flyer.
Even if Dazai’s dreams said otherwise.
He shook himself. It’s a dream, not set in stone. We can do this.
The display in front of him lit up, and he studied the icons on it for a second. “We’ll have to go after Fujin first,” he said. “If it’s capable of more speed, it can get to shore long before Raijin can, and Steel Blossom isn’t equipped to deal with aerial attacks.”
“Right. Lights are green, you’re good to go.” It was Kouyou’s voice this time. “Lifting in 30 seconds, flight time is seven minutes. Good luck out there.”
Chuuya reached out mentally as the roof opened toward his partner, taking a moment before they fell completely into work mode. They couldn't afford distractions on the battlefield, but until they got there...
We’ve got this. We have to.
I know. Dazai’s mental voice was an equal mix of frustrated and scared. He tried to hide it, but… he sighed.
Chuuya, I…
We’ll make it. Both of us are going to come out of this alive and afterwards we’ll crash for a bit and then clean out the fridge. The redhead was certain about this, although he spoke gently. Nothing was going to keep them both from going home, not if he had any power. We might get hurt, we’ll have to work on Soukoku, but we will both be there.
Dazai nodded, pulling Chuuya’s words around himself like a shield. He’d never been this scared before.
But, then again, he’d never had this much to lose before, either.
Something occurred to him, a memory of a conversation from just after their first fight together, and the brunette smiled faintly.
379 days.
Dazai feeling at least a bit better, Chuuya nodded to himself and focused on the images in front of them. He wasn’t brushing his partner off or anything; if he didn’t take the fight seriously, it was possible they would pay the price, and like hell he was about to let that happen. The icon for Fujin was closer, and approaching rapidly. Raijin was steadily approaching, but it wouldn’t make contact for another few minutes.
Head in the game, Osamu.
Right.
“Base, drop us in fifteen seconds and have the pilots get out of here. Chuuya, if we time this right, we can hit him from above. He’s got the edge in speed but we’ve got maneuverability. We need to stay behind him if we can- the leading edges of his wings are sharp, and so are his claws.”
Flying - not so good in water? Might not be lightning resistant. Scanning the quick summary of the beasts, Chuuya thought about what they had at their disposal. Cut off the wings, or straight through the membrane?
Dazai studied the readouts for a moment, thinking back on his dreams. The membrane. Maybe. Have to be precise, though. The bones are too dense to cut midair without a chainblade. More so than they have any right to be. If we can get it in the water we might be able to kill it quickly.
Which wasn’t a given, but it was probably the best chance they had. Of all his dreams’ variations, that strategy had come the closest to working.
Now if he could just figure out what it was he was missing…
Chuuya tilted his head as he thought, only a few seconds passing before he answered. Pin? He paired the thought with a vague impression of their swords. Or too deep?
Dazai shook his head, mentally. The swords weren’t ejectable. Too deep. And we can’t afford to be stuck when Raijin arrives.
There wasn’t really time to discuss further before the clamps let go and Soukoku dropped. They only fell for a few seconds, long enough for Chuuya’s aura to flare through the amplifier and catch them, and then-
“He’s veering,” Dazai said, watching the image on the screen. “250 meters and closing fast. 200...150...100...60- now, Chuuya.”
It spoke to their connection that Chuuya let go the instant Dazai thought the words. Which was a good thing- twin blades lashed out as they fell. Dazai’s was a little off, hitting bone, but Chuuya’s aim was perfect, and a jagged hole appeared in the kaiju’s wing. It shrieked, flailing in agony, but it didn’t fall, not yet, and
Veer left!
Chuuya adjusted their gravity, pulling them to the left as his partner ordered. The hit had been on target, even if he wasn’t sure if it was enough to completely ground the kaiju. It was definitely enough to affect its ability to fly though. It hissed at them as it struggled to keep airborne and the pilot prepared for another strike.
Dazai’s breath left him in a rush as Chuuya dodged. That could have been a nasty strike if it’d hit. A part of his mind wondered at that, but he ignored it for the moment. He was too busy watching the kaiju’s movements as it flapped, trying to stay aloft, and there!
Dual blades rose, one blocking a wingtip as the other thrust upward into skin and muscle. Another rent appeared, this time in the opposite wing, and Fujin fell.
Fujin hit the water and Chuuya let his blade fall, pushing just a bit harder with Sorrow as it hit bone. The sharp edge of the blade stuck for just a second before the assistance of gravity helped it cut right through. Dazai had been right - this bone was way too dense for it to have any sort of ability to fly.
Not important.
“Base, what’s Blossom’s ETA?” Dazai asked, watching Raijin’s approach on the screen. Eight minutes, Chibi.
“Nineteen minutes,” came the reply.
Too late. “This might be over by then,” the brunette muttered. He raised his blade, barely blocking a strike, and cursed as the wing edge notched it. Yeah, let’s not let one of those hit. There’s no way that’s just bone. Not metal either, or at least not all metal.
Right. Fight now, analyze later.
The redhead acknowledged the time limit, pulling his blade back up into position as the now severed piece of kaiju disappeared into the sea. They didn’t have any time to waste.
Grab its wing?
Yeah. Dazai retracted his blade. It took a moment, with the way the kaiju was thrashing about, but he was able to grab the back edge of the wing. Got it.
Chuuya lifted his blade, watching the beast thrash and trying to find the best time to strike. He couldn’t miss, not without making things much harder than they needed to be. When the opportunity came, he let his blade fall with more than just a bit of gravity this time, toward its neck instead of the wing joint.
Dazai watched as the sword descended. So far the fight had mostly followed the course of his dreams, although in almost all of them Chuuya had taken the second wing before going for the neck, and that had cost them time they didn’t have.
So, did this mean they’d changed the outcome?
Or…
Fujin shuddered, its neck half-severed from the blow, and went limp. The pair watched it for a moment, and Dazai sighed in relief as its vitals dropped off the screen.
One down. Two minutes til Raijin is in range.
Systems check. Chuuya told Dazai as he focused on the Jaeger. They hadn’t taken any truly direct hits, but the thrashing had caused some minor damage here and there. Soukoku still had plenty of power, but if it had some sort of electrical attack he wanted to make sure the breakers and other protective systems were working correctly, especially since they were fighting in the ocean.
Some of the Jaegers had similar systems depending on the weather patterns and climates of the area they usually worked in - it wouldn’t do for a Jaeger to be fried if it was fighting in a storm, after all.
Any ideas for this one?
Dazai didn’t pause, his fingers flying over the board as he ran diagnostics. Wait out the first shock. We’re still in decent shape. When he’s close enough, grab him and go up. He’ll be less dangerous out of the water.
It was a sound enough plan, except for one small problem.
Over the course of the past year and half, Soukoku had taken quite a bit of damage. And, good as he was, Chuuya couldn’t oversee every repair or part replacement. Thanks to all his other responsibilities, he’d had to leave some of the work to the regular techs.
Not all of whom had his and Dazai’s knack for noticing bad parts.
It was a small thing, unnoticed at first. A piece of plating in the lower leg wasn’t quite up to spec and had buckled under the stress. As a result, the welds surrounding it had cracked, and seawater was pouring into the leg. Chuuya had noticed the extra drag and compensated for it with barely a thought, attributing it to some sort of sealife or reef. To him, in the moment, it didn’t matter what was causing the lag, just that he compensated for it - none of the sensors or anything had shown a cause for concern. Neither had Dazai foreseen it; in all of the ten or so times he’d had this dream, Raijin had caught up long before and the damage had been irrelevant.
And, unfortunately for the actuators and other systems that were currently submerged, seawater is an excellent conductor.
The first shock fried most of the circuitry in Soukoku’s lower half.
The second, following closer than even Dazai had known was possible, knocked out almost every other system.
Including the ejection systems.
The only things not affected, thanks to Chuuya’s insistence on heavy shielding and redundancy, were the comms, the backup power,... and the ability amplifier.
Soukoku had been in the middle of turning when the shock hit. The sudden loss of input and power meant momentum ruled, and the Jaeger fell, twisted, and landed hard.
The drift snapped as Dazai’s head impacted the rigging and he was knocked unconscious.
“Dazai!” Chuuya screamed as he felt the drift break, suddenly feeling very alone in the cockpit of a jaeger much larger than he was with a kaiju bearing down on him. The rigging had kept him from being knocked off his feet, at least, but it wasn’t enough to really help him. He could feel the reduced (but still weighty- Jaegers weren’t made for one pilot) strain of the systems suddenly dumped on him, the sounds of the comms system screaming at him, the knowledge that help was going to be too late.
No.
This isn’t ending here.
Chuuya growled, shoving his concern and fear for Dazai aside right now. He had to hope that his partner was still alive, and unless he did something, neither of them were going to make it back.
Soukoku was still on its side and Raijin was approaching fast. The redhead focused, drawing on his stubbornness, and took a quick tally of the systems, moving through them faster than he ever had before. There were still voices yelling in his ear, but Chuuya barely heard them. What good could they do for him here? His blood was pounding in his ears, tunneling his focus.
Chuuya’s breath caught as one possibility came to mind, everything coming to a stop in crystal clear focus for just one moment. He didn’t know how it would end, but if it took down the Kaiju and the city, the civilians, the families, were saved…
Dazai would forgive him if things didn’t go like he hoped, right?
There. Envision the wall, just like we practiced.
A wall appeared in his mind, white plaster, almost like that of a lab. Set in it was a door, clear plastic, the number A5158 on a simple plaque next to it. A child, a younger version of Chuuya clad in what looked like grey pajamas, sat in the cell behind the door, and he looked up at Chuuya’s approach.
I know you’re watching. You’ve been protecting me all this time. Now, we need to protect Dazai and the others. Work with me?
A nod, and the door simply disappeared as A-kun reached out, his young face solemn but determined. Dazai was Good.
Chuuya closed his eyes as Raijin loomed in the viewport, drawing on his power, and let it loose, the echo of a memory behind his eyelids as a single phrase, his voice higher pitched than normal, almost that of a child, left his lips.
Back at headquarters, four people turned to each other. Two of them blanched, their eyes meeting, at the words echoing in the suddenly silent room.
“Oh grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”
