Chapter Text
Crisp, sea air wafting in from the port of Kobe surrounded Shouyou on all sides as he stepped off the chopper and onto the loading deck. His thick combat boots clanged across the metal platform. All around him, the scent of oil, the whirring of machinery, the crackle of electricity and the ever-present vibrating hum that surrounded a facility like this base all grounded him in the familiar.
Over the years since Hinata first enlisted in the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps, so many things had changed. But the feast for the senses laid before him never had, no matter where in the world he went.
It had been 2 and a half years since he last set foot on Japanese soil. Now, there was no time for soil or sight-seeing — only for the endless acres of steel and concrete of a Shatterdome.
Hoisting his bare-bones pack which had traveled with him across the Pacific, Shouyou strode forward towards the main entrance to the base to see if he could find Intake.
“Oi, Chibi-chan!” A familiar voice called out to him that made Hinata turn around to find the source.
“Kuroo-san! Long time no see!” Hinata waved to his friend and former Ranger Captain from the Tokyo Shatterdome. He paused to look around him, surprised and a little disappointed that his usual shadow wasn’t there to greet him as well. “Where’s Kenma?”
The dark haired man just rolled his eyes, but didn’t let his sly grin falter. “Oh you know them, if they get a burr up their ass about one of those machines, they won’t leave that workshop for days. I tried to get them to come, but even seeing you still wasn’t enough to get Kenma to come outside. At this point, I think they’re allergic.”
Hinata burst out with a jubilant laugh, the kind he hadn’t felt so genuinely in years. He really had missed his friends.
“What’re they working on, anyway? I thought Tokyo wasn’t getting any more Jaegers until the base was operational?”
“Tokyo’s not.” Kuroo said with a scowl. “But you know Kenma can’t just sit around and do nothing… So that little traitor has been working a little too closely with Inarizaki on something pretty special. I’m sure you’ll get to see it soon enough.”
“I look forward to it.” Hinata then stepped forward, moving in closer to Kuroo’s space as he offered him a genuine smile. “It really is good to see you again, Kuroo-san.”
Kuroo wholeheartedly agreed as he grinned and took in the orange-haired ranger. It had been a long time since he had last seen Hinata — and a lot had changed.
The older man was surprised; Kuroo wasn’t a small guy, and stood at least 5 inches taller than Hinata, easily having dwarfed the kid before. But now... just in the way he stood, Hinata exuded confidence with every fiber of his being that made him feel 10 feet tall.
Shouyou had always been the sort of rough, uncut gem fighting his way through a tumbler, trying to make it out the other side, a diamond. No matter how long it took. Kuroo had seen his potential before — his fire and inability to ever give up or give in. It was the entire reason the shrimp had been able to become a Jaeger pilot in the first place.
They first met way back when Karasuno had been running joint drills down in Tokyo. Of course, Kuroo knew Kageyama. He also knew his Strike Group leaders Daichi and Sugawara probably too well after how often they had come and bailed out his pilots’ asses over the years. But Hinata had always been a special breed.
Watching him pilot for the first time had truly been a sight; Kuroo had never seen someone mesh so well with the King before.
Up until then, Tetsurou didn’t even know that his 75 meter tall Jaeger, Midnight Majesty, could ever be that quick or agile. There hadn’t been as many speed-prioritized Jaegers out on the front lines over the last few years; most successful kaiju take-downs instead came from traditional tank-like teams that preferred range and the ability to take hits over speed.
Actually, Kuroo had been absolutely certain that Kageyama had preferred that strategy; the King's perfect drop record up until that point had been thanks to exactly that. That’s what made seeing Majesty fight like that even more astounding. In all his years at the Tokyo Shatterdome, Kuroo had never seen a team take down a Kaiju that fast.
When Strike Group Karasuno made their way back to base, Kuroo asked how long Kageyama and the chibi had been piloting together, never having met the smaller man before in his life. He knew that partnership had to have been a new development, seeing as he had last seen the group of Karasuno pilots around 8 months ago… but he certainly hadn’t been expecting 3 weeks.
Much less the fact that Hinata had only been piloting for a total of 3 weeks. Instead, against all odds Midnight Majesty ran with the precision range of Crimson Typhoon and the speed and spontaneity of Gypsy Danger — slaying Kaiju after Kaiju along the eastern coast. Even Kenma was drawn in by Shouyou’s innate pull, the likes of which Kuroo had never seen before. Over the course of the next few years, the three of them – along with Tokyo’s ace Jaeger duo of Bokuto and Akaashi – became a close-knit unit in the face of all of humanity’s challenges, triumphs and setbacks.
Kuroo had never met anyone as driven or as passionate as Hinata, and he doubted that he ever would. He didn’t know anyone else who would have stayed in the Jaeger Academy for 3 years, stubbornly waiting out his time, even when everyone kept telling him he would never become a Ranger. Certainly couldn’t imagine anyone else actually achieving that goal either.
A lot had certainly changed since Kuroo first met him all those years ago. It seemed that stubborn, unyielding fire had only grown — spitting out a gleaming, unbreakable diamond after years away.
“Ah, I can’t wait to see Kenma and everyone!” Hinata mused as the bright sunlight on the launch deck quickly darkened and the gates closed, leading them into the facility. “Wait, how is everyone…? Actually, where is everyone? I really wasn’t sure who all I was going to see after being transferred here after what happened in Tokyo…”
A bitter, bitten off sigh escaped from Kuroo.
“Well, we didn’t lose anyone, if that’s what you’re asking. The Nekoma and Fukurodani Strike Groups were luckily out on a mission… We lost guys from Shinzen, Ubugawa and Itachiyama though.” …, ” Kuroo shuddered at the thought of calling anything that happened to them that day lucky.
Hinata’s face fell; he had known there had been casualties. But knowing of them, and knowing who was a different story. While he had internally breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing his close friends had been spared, his heart still sunk, knowing some of the guys he had trained with died. The Itachiyama Strike Group had always had some incredibly talented pilots too, so it really was a shame all around.
“As for the guys that made it, most of your friends ended up here. I know as soon as Bokuto heard you were coming back early, not even Akaashi could get him to shut up. I think the only Nekoma guys you’ll probably be missing are Lev and Yaku, who are stationed up off the coast of Russia.”
“Russia?!?”
“Mmhmm, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Yakkun’s already killed Lev. I can only imagine that being cooped up together with him is gonna drive him up the wall… I still can barely believe those two are drift compatible…” Kuroo laughed, wiping away fake tears from his eyes.
“Right?? Seriously, so much has changed since I’ve been gone…”
“Ha… you could say that again, Chibi-chan…” An almost wistful, contemplative, yet bereaved expression took over Kuroo’s face as he let out a heavy sigh, before turning towards the bay. “Kobe certainly is different… but then again, so is Chile .”
His mature countenance was gone in an instant, and in its place was the trademarked Kuroo smirk and those all-too-knowing eyes as he took in Hinata.
“Plus, it seems like I can’t really call you ‘Chibi-chan’ anymore, now can I, Lieutenant ?”
Hinata huffed a laugh, and found himself standing up taller and prouder with his hands on his hips. Together, they kept walking and he listened as Kuroo began to give him a quick tour of the place (as if every Shatterdome wasn’t nearly identical — and Hinata had been to a lot).
“— I’m still running PR for the P.P.D.C. until we can get the Tokyo Shatterdome rebuilt and secure, and damn, Tokyo is certainly a much better location for that, but it’s also pretty nice gettin’ to take command of the Tokyo guys.”
“Woah, you’re a commander now!? That’s amazing Kuroo-san —”
“Kuroo-san, I do believe this is my Shatterdome, so shouldn’t ya be letting me meet our new talent first?”
A surprisingly soft yet booming voice which carried a weight beyond its tenor interrupted Hinata, mid-enthusiastic gush over his friend’s promotion. The ginger immediately turned to face the new and unfamiliar voice.
Standing on the other end of the connecting bridge where he and Kuroo had been crossing, was a man in full military dress. He wore no medals or flashy status symbols that only served to parade around who he was, but Hinata could tell that he didn’t need to.
His hair almost reminded Hinata of Bokuto, but this man had a far more intimidating aura, rather than the easy-going and inviting aura his mentor had. He couldn’t have been more than an inch taller than Shouyou, but his presence, posture and stare told the younger ranger that this man was no ordinary base personnel.
“Hey now, Kita-san, I’m still in charge of the Tokyo wing, and Shouyou here was originally scheduled to transfer into Tokyo anyway, so —“
The man — Kita-san — just ignored Kuroo in favor of shifting his golden eyes to give Hinata an appraising once over. After a moment of analyzing, scrutinizing, anxiety-inducing silence and staring, the smallest of smiles appeared on the white-haired man’s face.
“Hinata Shouyou, I’ve heard great things about you, and I look forward to watching you grow in our facility. You may call me Kita. I run command here for the Inarizaki Strike Group.”
The man’s fox-like stare shifted back over to look at Kuroo with something resembling mirth, while the Tokyo man began to squirm under his attention, before he turned back to Hinata and continued.
“That means that you will be reporting to me as we look to get you back in a Jaeger.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“I know you just landed, Hinata-san, and from what I heard, you have not taken much of a break since you were last in Japan.” Hinata sheepishly nodded as Kita pointedly paused, causing him to feel way too seen for someone who he’d met only minutes ago. “So you may take the day off to familiarize yourself with the rest of Inarizaki base and to rest, but I look forward to seeing the Little Giant in action in the Kwoon Combat Room tomorrow.”
A series of conflicted emotions ran across Hinata’s face at that nickname.
Of course the imposing man before him knew of that moniker he acquired over his stint in South America… he just hadn’t been aware that it had made its way across the Pacific. If there was anything that Hinata didn’t want, it was for a nickname and a preconceived notion of his skills as a pilot to be the reason he was treated differently than any other cadet looking to get into a Jaeger for the first time.
“The only reason you ever stepped foot inside a Jaeger is because of me —“
Hinata had left Japan to escape an overbearing tyrant. He had flown off to South America to spread his wings, and learn how to pilot on his own; to no longer live in the King's shadow. Most importantly — he had gone to kill Kaiju. Hinata was more than proud to say he more than accomplished both of those goals.
“Of course sir, I look forward to seeing what Inarizaki has to offer here as well. It has certainly been a while since I’ve been able to spar with someone truly challenging.”
What he never expected to come out of his work abroad was to become the ninja .
“But with all due respect sir, I ask that you please refrain from referring to me as such. I didn’t come to Inarizaki to be the ‘Little Giant’.”
“You know what Kageyama? You’re right. We aren't copilots anymore. Not since I piloted Midnight Majesty. By myself. Because of you. I can’t pilot with you anymore. — and I won’t .”
“I came to find a partner.”
“Aw, c’mon Omi-kun, don’t be that way!”
Atsumu frantically sputtered in his steps to catch up with his long-legged co-pilot. There were only a few inches in their height difference, but Sakusa seemed to store all of it in his legs. And he loved to use his stride length and speed to hastily exit a conversation with Atsumu when he didn’t care to take part any longer. Ya know, like the asshole he was.
With his slight jump-steps clamoring against the steel grated platform of the loading dock, Atsumu managed to catch back up to Kiyoomi just as the censors for the base door were opening up to them.
Even without a grand arrival party or commotion from media after a highly-televised drop, there was still something so grand about hearing the whoosh of the mechanized doors slide open to reveal them at the top of the Shatterdome. It was only 2000, but that was still late enough for Atsumu to be accompanied only by the distant sound of the last few technicians wrapping up their post-mission checklists and the breath of his partner.
There was still such an intimate weight and gravitas as they looked out into the Shatterdome atrium, and watched as the overhead lights clicked on . Encasing Jackal Blitz in a spotlight; the champagne chrome of his Jaeger's carbon frame glistened in the light. Atsumu’s naïve pride wished he could admire anything past the new scratches and scorch marks which decorated her hull.
The soft, echoing clang of their entrance resounded throughout the entire port. There was a soft whirring hum that fed the Shatterdome as techs and soldiers of all sorts went about their lives. While not nearly as lively as during the daylight hours, Inarizaki base never seemed to tire, even late into the evening — ready to hold the line as one of the last remaining strongholds of humanity no matter the time.
It sure wasn’t silent , but even with an entrance like theirs, there was no flash, no to-do or propaganda to pollute their work. Part of him was glad, beyond exhausted with the bullshit that being a dog of the military fitted him with. Yet another, bitter part of him saw it fitting . Being a hero for humanity was all fine and dandy on the television or in the storefronts, but even after taking down a Category 3 Kaiju cleanly and efficiently — it was nothing — Atsumu knew Inarizaki would see none of the praise, accolades or funding. Just more work.
Still, that’s what he was here to do. No matter Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi’s reputation or records, everyone at Inarizaki base respected the pilots of Jackal Blitz. They had only been piloting together for less than a year, yet had already proven their skills as one of the top Jaeger teams on base. Neither Atsumu nor Sakusa were what you would call rookies, both having piloted for many years with their previous partners.
Alongside Okami Alpha, piloted by old man Karasu and Aran, they fit in without much strife among the other Inarizaki Jaeger teams. Lucky Strix from Tokyo, piloted by Bokuto and Akaashi; Equinox Knight, piloted by Jump Captain Meian and Barnes; Athena Avalanche from Tokyo, piloted by Yuki and Kaori; and Anubis Gold, piloted by Inunaki and Adriah — through thick and thin, the teams of Inarizaki Shatterdome worked hard to protect the western coast of Japan. And did a pretty bang up job of it too.
Together in his Jaeger, Jackal Blitz, they got the job done.
Atsumu sighed as he plopped the upper half of his body against the railing on the platform to look over the mech bay. He never would get tired of the view, no matter how many times he had seen it over the last 10 years. The Shatterdome, coexisting with his Jaeger, his wary partner, and basking in the safety and surety that was his family here on base… it brought a sense of calm, nostalgic wonder through him.
It hadn’t always been this way.
Not long ago, it felt like the only person he could trust to be by his side was none other than his twin, Osamu. As their world had been strewn into the madness of the fight against the end of the world, the two of them had been recruited out of high school due to their superior athletic ability and synchronization. No matter what happened, what the world threw their way or took away from them — at least they had each other. Together, they had been the youngest Jaeger pilots on record since the breach opened, first stepping foot inside when they were only freshly 16. Treated as geniuses, Atsumu and Osamu were immediately branded and used as stars by the Pan Pacific Defense Corps.
Over the years, the two of them earned a very sizable chunk of change from the Japanese government and other international bodies. Not that money could change anything about the situation they ended up in, but they didn’t join for that in the first place.
The thing about the Miya twins however, was not in their “genius” ability to pilot their Jaeger: Phrixus Fox. No, their greatest strength was in their drifting abilities. As twins, as best friends, as a matching set that had lived their entire lives, experiencing everything together… Nearly every time they stepped into a Jaeger, the Miyas had near faultless drift compatibility. Their synchronization, their trust in each other — their hunger and drive to match and surpass his brother fueled them on to great heights, massive success — and one of the best drop records in the entire world for nearly 8 years.
Osamu was his drift partner, his twin and his best and only friend for the longest time. But as the war raged on, Atsumu slowly but surely also became close with those around him. With Aran and Suna fighting and training by his side; with Kita as he steadily rose in the ranks of the base, until he began coordinating attacks and strategy. Akagi, who made stupid jokes every single transport as he flew their Jumphawk chopper. Ginjima, who kept Phrixus Fox — in all her crimson-chrome, fox-eared and agile glory — in pristine condition until her last drop. Even Oomimi, who’s dry yet motherly instincts over the comms over in Loccent helped open Atsumu’s heart until he realized that no, he wasn’t in this alone anymore.
Inarizaki became his family and his home. It became something that he finally wanted to protect, and gave Atsumu the motivation to keep going out there and fighting another day, even after he had been hopeless for so long.
But no matter how good the Miya’s got, no matter how experienced they became; no matter their skill or trust or talent or intuition… Nothing could prepare them for the realities of fighting the monsters called Kaiju.
As the Great Kaiju War raged on, the technologies from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps had made huge leaps and bounds in between new generations and 'Marks' of Jaegers with new advanced weaponry and research. However just as technology above the surface improved, the supernatural forces brewing beneath the breach began to evolve exponentially… and humanity struggled to keep up.
War was expensive on a good day; it was also draining and taxing and grueling and agonizing and arduous. After nearly 10 long years of fighting, Atsumu and Osamu weren’t the only pilots at their wits end. Funding and morale had sunk drastically over the years, and no matter how desperately humanity needed to keep fighting, it became even harder to make new Jaegers and find new recruits as the pay began to dwindle and repairs struggled to keep up with demand… even more so as the Kaiju began to increase in numbers and ferocity, downing and damaging more and more Jaegers and pilots with each passing day.
Then the day came too, where Phrixus Fox joined those ranks.
Atsumu sighed and shook his unruly bangs out of where they hung in front of his face. His hair seemed scragglier than it used to be. Probably because he didn’t blow dry it or put all those oils that used to make his hair smooth and shiny anymore. The salt air outside the base at least gave him a little texture, but the wind-tunnel-like atmosphere of the Shatterdome meant he would be hard pressed to not get his hair caught every which way.
At first, Atsumu had enjoyed the perks that came with being somewhat of a celebrity. He had always been a bit vain and indulgent, even as an adolescent being shipped off into the unknowns of war. So when the PR and Marketing teams behind the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps had come to him and Osamu determined to give them a “fresh new look”, Atsumu had willingly played along. Perhaps it had been a coping mechanism; over-performed confidence and a character to feed into the fantasy that he was going to save humanity, which served to hide the bleak reality he had been tricked into playing into. But as the years dragged on, Atsumu found it harder and harder to even run a brush through his hair each morning, much less style it and keep up with his grow out.
Osamu had been the only one who ever saw that side of Atsumu; his twin was the only one who had been able to see past the persona, his crutch – all of it – in the drift. An uneasy but not altogether uncomfortable feeling weighed on his chest as he felt the reminder that even without Osamu, he still wasn’t in this alone. Atsumu turned his head to stare idly at the man next to him.
Sakusa leaned his long, nearly lanky, yet still substantial arms against the same railing; of course Atsumu didn't have to have seen the man clean it with a sanitizing wipe to know that he did. The darker haired man seemed amicable to the silence between them as the two of them stood a good 6 feet apart. Despite the silence, there was still a tense sort of exhausted thrumming filling the air between the two of them. The remnants of unspent adrenaline and restless reservations from their mission. If Atsumu hadn’t drifted with the enigma himself, and didn’t know any better, it would be easy to assume by his ‘resting bitch face’ that his co-pilot was an asshole who hated him. But after 6 months of being his co-pilot, he could see what kind of person Sakusa Kiyoomi was under that mask of his.
Despite their many differences, the two of them were surprisingly similar in their stubbornness and drive. As co-pilots, no matter how recent or potentially-temporary, they still spent a large chunk of time on base together. So it made sense that Atsumu would have learned to interpret the subtleties in Sakusa’s expressive eyebrows and the nuances of his vocal inflection. But seeing inside the other man’s brain made Atsumu aware of just how much more there was to Sakusa than what could be seen on the surface.
He had seen just how deathly sick Sakusa had gotten as a child; how cleanliness had become a resulting compulsion for him. Atsumu had felt his grief after his parents had been killed by a Kaiju. But he’d also seen those fond childhood memories of an overprotective mother – and how that same feeling of comfort and nostalgia washed over him any time he slipped a mask snugly over his face, as he was reminded of her care. No one else, except his cousin, of course, knew that feeling; like a warm hug from his parents that anchored him. Atsumu knew that Sakusa would never say as much, but it was probably the main reason he wore a mask even in the most nonsensical times, like in his armored jumpsuit. So that even whilst breathing fluorocarbon instead of air contaminated with other people’s germs, he could still cover his face, and feel that warmth as he sank into the drift.
Atsumu actually really appreciated that sort of warm blanket that surrounded him, offering him something to grasp onto in the void as he jolted into a drift with Kiyoomi. It was one of the only things that he could count on going smoothly each time. Even though more than a year later, Atsumu himself was still shaky and tense any time he entered a drift.
He had never even had to think about drifting with ‘Samu, so the unfamiliarity of uncertainty was a new bridge he had to learn to cross late into his career. The best distraction he found to quickly get across the neural bridge, was to focus on his research and intel about the Kaiju they would be facing. Atsumu had always been one to over prepare and obsess over his work and his interests, so sometimes leaning into that fixation in order to prevent chasing a rabbit down a very specific hole was a necessity in these times.
Sakusa never said as much, but he seemed to actually like the meticulous nature of 'Miya’s' mantra as he drifted as well. They might be something of opposites, but still had complementary enough styles and personalities to form a solid compromise on which to base their partnership around. Atsumu’s dedication and thoroughness was one of the main strengths of their partnership and what made their team work . Even in ways that neither of them would have thought when they first met each other.
See, that was the thing: the two of them worked reasonably well together. They did their jobs to the best of their ability, and both appreciated having a competent co-pilot to accomplish a common goal. But… both of them knew that wasn’t all that the other was seeking out of a co-pilot.
Atsumu and Sakusa could form a passable drift, but one couldn’t really say they were drift compatible . Then again, that’s not why Kita paired them together all those months ago...
+++
It wasn’t all that surprising when Kita had called Atsumu into his office that morning. He had done so many times since their accident. Kita was, of course, doing his duties as the new, interim commander, while still keeping up with his former role as psych evaluator. The man was diligent in his laser-focused goal of checking Atsumu’s status and intentions on returning to battle; but there was still a whole other side to Kita that was just being a good friend. However, the last time Kita and him had talked at length was a few months ago by now, so it only made sense that Atsumu was due for a visit.
What he wasn’t expecting though, was company.
Kita stood, his silent, regal power filling the room despite his stature, even from where he leaned over slightly at his desk. The real surprise however, was the tall, curly haired man standing at attention across the desk from Kita. Next to him, there was still enough space to facilitate someone joining him where he was standing. The man didn’t turn to look at Atsumu as he entered, but Atsumu’s watchful gaze could see a darting movement of dark eyes from out of the man’s periphery.
“Atsumu, this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. He just transferred here from the Tokyo Metropolitan Shatterdome. Ranger Sakusa, this is Miya Atsumu. You two will be getting in the simulator.”
The blond and the raven-haired man turned slightly toward each other to regard the other with appraising eyes and whirring brains behind their poker faces. Or Atsumu’s poker face, since the Tokyo native was cheating by wearing a mask which covered most of his face.
The thing was, Atsumu knew who Sakusa was. He was a legend out of the Tokyo base; had one of the top drop rates in all of the eastern front, and an even crazier long-distance sniper accuracy with a wicked curve with his aim. Last he had heard, Sakusa had been piloting with his cousin, but… here he was at Inarizaki, seemingly alone — and ready to pilot with Atsumu, of all people.
He knew what this was, what Kita was doing. What confused him was why him , why now?
Atsumu had assumed whenever Kita deemed him ready for the simulator or to step foot in a Jaeger again, he would just test him with Aran-kun. Actually, he would have bet money on it.
Aran, Atsumu and Osamu had grown up with each other — had enlisted alongside each other. Not even an alien war could tear away their bonds of friendship and chosen family. They had even been teammates for years now, fighting alongside each other in their jump squad, even if in separate Jaegers. Everything pointed to them being compatible; especially since Aran’s partner, old man Kurosu, was going to retire soon… it just made sense.
So why was Sakusa Kiyoomi standing across from him instead?
+++
Atsumu couldn't help but think loftily about what they each brought to the table. It was only with Sakusa, his sort of grounded hard work and simplicity that managed to keep Atsumu’s head on right, even with some tough missions thrown their way.
It was a partnership so fundamentally different from what he had with Osamu… Kita somehow knew that’s what he needed out of a partner, even though he probably knew that they wouldn’t get out of the 80s in their comparability and synchronicity score.
And they never have — only once ever registering anything over 86%. That didn’t mean their partnership wasn’t viable, it just meant it was far from easy or natural.
But as partners, finding someone to support them and fill some of their gaps… that’s what they both needed at that moment.
In the drift, Atsumu had seen that Kiyoomi had planned on transferring to where the Adler strike team was based out of, just outside of Tokyo. He had seen the memories, dreams and plans that Sakusa had for a partnership with Ushijima Wakatoshi. A long-time rival and friend whom Sakusa thought was the only lighthouse out of his grief.
Atsumu might not have been Ushijima, but after seeing second-hand what it was like for Sakusa to lose not only one of his best friends and captain — but his lover — Iizuna Tsukasa… He knew that he could still empathize and support him, even if losing a mother and almost losing his brother was nothing like losing someone you were in love with.
But it turned out that Ushijima was no longer in the market for a new co-pilot, choosing to remain with his current partner instead. So, one thing led to another, and that’s how Sakusa ended up sitting in Kita’s office at Inarizaki base.
Even if he didn’t know exactly why Sakusa wanted to partner with Ushijima, Atsumu knew all too well what type of co-pilot and fighting style would be compatible with Sakusa. Uncompromising .
Sakusa, in turn, could see what Atsumu needed and desired: a perfect other half who knew him inside and out. Atsumu had always had someone whom he could talk with if he wanted, lean on if he needed, and most of all – someone he could trust. Someone who could understand and communicate with him without wasting any time second guessing; because those two seconds could be the difference between getting a drop and a Kaiju getting the drop on you .
That’s all Atsumu had ever known for nearly a decade with Osamu… and he didn’t want any less.
Still, somehow, despite all their compromises and changes, Sakusa and Atsumu formed a semi-symbiotic partnership where they could continue to grow and train and do their job. They helped each other keep up their skills, while silently acknowledging the reality that this was a short-term partnership, and nothing serious was going to come out of it.
Before Atsumu could get too lost in the melancholy of his dissatisfaction, a soft, yet deep and strong voice broke Atsumu out of his thoughts.
“I heard the new cadets are going to be in the Kwoon Combat Room all day tomorrow. Got some new transfers too. Want to go check them out?” Sakusa posed his question without so much as turning his head to look at Atsumu. Despite his cold body language feigning disinterest, the blond could see the appraising look peering out of his periphery.
It was another unspoken agreement that even though Sakusa and Atsumu were partners, they were still both “actively looking” for a new co-pilot, even if they were no longer desperate in their searches. Sakusa had brought up the idea of going to the Kwoon Combat Room a few times. Atsumu had actually joined him to watch once — but had never worked himself up to spar with anyone else himself. Not since he was last there with Osamu.
See, Atsumu had never actually done any test-sparring in the Kwoon Combat Room over all of his years in the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. What was the purpose anyway, if he didn’t need to fight or kick his twin’s ass to determine whether or not they were drift compatible? Still, the two of them grew intimately familiar with the sparring facility from the countless hours they spent learning proper forms, technique and posture while fighting with their staffs.
But it was such a different experience training and sparring against your equal — someone who drove you to push even farther, even faster, even more reckless — all in a search to find an even deeper connection and fighting sense in the drift.
He knew that sparring in the Kwoon Combat Room was not ‘fighting’ — at least not in the traditional sense. It was meant to be a dialogue, a duet between partners. Atsumu was too hot headed, too quick to the punch; he always went from 0 to 100, left his engine revving — and only Osamu had ever been able to truly contend with him and meet him where he stood.
It was part of the reason Kita paired him and Sakusa together to do a simulation, rather than to test their “combat capability” beforehand. That ended up being a very successful gauge, yet limiter placed on both of them — because the more tenuous and fragile a drift, the more it required them to calculate and weigh their options before acting. A greatly valuable skill for Atsumu to grow and to foster patience and caution; but that didn’t mean it was always easy.
Despite the awkward-at-best silence between them, Atsumu felt surprisingly calm and at ease with that suggestion, despite the anxiety it had caused him before. The lonely, echoing emptiness and whirring wind that filled the air around them provided the necessary thrum to steady his heart. Atsumu leaned more heavily into his elbows against the railing before speaking up.
“Ya know what? Sure, let’s go, Omi-kun — I’ll kick yer ass.”
Atsumu’s lighthearted joke and obvious sarcasm (since that was the exact opposite point of the exercise, especially with someone who was literally his partner ) still earned a small chuckle from behind the curly haired man’s mask.
Neither of them made any moves to head down to the lower decks of the Shatterdome, instead preferring to watch from high above. It was mesmerizing, comforting, in a way, to be able to see Jackal Blitz as she was brought in to be docked, inspected and cleaned. The last few weeks had been gracious enough to bring the Inarizaki base some relative peace; Jackal’s drop of a Category III Kaiju had been the only major mission of late.
This so-called ‘luck’ felt wrong; everyone somehow knew , and collectively all seemed to stay busier and more uptight than ever. Atsumu could feel it. The anxious undercurrent buzzing through the base. No one wanted to get lulled into a false sense of security; they all knew that this near-radio-silence could only spell trouble.
Still, Atsumu being Atsumu, couldn’t help but want to make a joke about all the uptight asses around the base to deflect away from his own anxieties. Before he could though, a blur of orange caught his attention, turning Atsumu away from where he had been watching their Jaeger.
His focus was quickly zeroed in on the brightly colored person, waving around emphatically on one of the equipment decks a few stories down.
Intriguingly, the orange blur seemed to be accompanied by a white and black blur who Atsumu knew could only ever be dragged away from his office by the most intriguing of personnel or most worrisome of intel.
Curiouser yet, next to Kita was none other than that rooster-headed Tokyo commander, who always seemed to weasel his way into every inch of the Inarizaki base and operations, making himself far too at home. More impressively however, is that they weren’t at each other’s throats — instead enraptured and entertained by that little orange spitfire.
'Now just who the hell is he… ?’
(Credit - Electra)
(Credit - Vee)