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It’s after Shinomiya and Kafka leave, and long after the sun dips below the horizon, that Reno finally lets himself breathe out. He sinks back into the fluffy hospital pillows and stares at the ceiling. The tiles are gray and pristine, the overhead light is a grating fluorescent white, there’s the steady hum of medical equipment, and the only thing Reno can think about is that he almost gave away the most important secret he’s ever kept.
The moment has passed, and Shinomiya has long since saved Kafka’s secret with her quick explanation, but he can't help but feel horrified with himself. It was always Kafka himself that Reno had to worry most about in revealing his power but to be fair to him, he’s managed it all this time. And for all that she has a foul mouth, Shinomiya still has a good head on her shoulders. She keeps herself in check. That means Reno is the one who came the closest to sharing that secret. He can’t betray Kafka like that—he almost did betray Kafka like that.
How careless of him. None of his efforts to get stronger mean a damn thing if he’s going to go out and reveal Kafka’s power himself.
“Hey, are you moping over there?” Furuhashi asks. The sound of his voice startles Reno out of his thoughts. When he glances over at Furuhashi’s side of the room, the man is already staring back at him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That weird humanoid kaiju had us both in its pocket. I mean for you that’s no surprise, but since even I couldn’t stop it—”
“Kaiju no.9,” Reno says.
“Yeah, Kaiju no.9,” Furuhashi says, huffing. “But don’t interrupt me when I’m—”
If there were ever a list of scenarios in which Kafka reveals his kaiju powers, Reno thinks fighting Kaiju no.9 takes the number one spot. That creature is a problem with a capital P. Reno and Furuhashi were outclassed by that thing in every single way. Even Shinomiya had been caught off guard all that time ago. It had been toying with them, amusedly holding back its true skill against such puny humans. If Kafka hadn’t made it to their position in time, it would’ve…
(It hums at Reno, standing on spindly legs above him, and he hurts, he hurts so bad despite his suit’s shield. Kaiju no.9 shoots him with its strange not-bullets over and over again and Reno writhes on the ground helplessly. He tries, once, to reach for his gun but he ends up curling in on himself through the pain.
Then it’s not Shinomiya, it’s not Kafka, who shouts out, suddenly distracting Kaiju no.9. It’s Furuhashi, the same guy who’s had something out for Reno ever since he joined the Defense Force. After Reno already told him to run and save himself. That stupid, stupid, idiot! Is this how Kafka felt back then—Reno’s first day with the cleanup crew?
Kaiju no.9 points its finger at Furuhashi—lining up its shot. Furuhashi can’t take another direct hit but he’s in its war path and Reno is beside himself in pain, lying on the ground uselessly with a puddle of blood growing beneath him. He’ll die, Reno thinks, hysterically, he’ll die and what was it all for? He’ll—
With a roar, suddenly there is Kaiju no.8.)
Reno isn’t strong enough to keep Kafka from using his kaiju power. Reno isn’t strong enough to save Furuhashi on his own. Reno isn’t even strong enough to save himself.
All this training, all this time and effort, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. He needs to be better soon. Sooner than soon. He needs to make progress immediately in order to be a strong, reliable officer. To be someone like Shinomiya, or Vice Captain Hoshina, or Captain Ashiro. Someone like Kafka.
“Are you even listening to me?!” Furuhashi demands loudly.
Right. Furuhashi’s still here.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m listening,” Reno says, voice clipped as his stomach churns with turmoil.
Because if he can’t get stronger, Kafka will have no choice but to save himself—or Reno, again, by transforming into a kaiju. And if he were to do it somewhere where someone actually sees—Shinomiya said it herself. He’d be locked up, probably tried for being an enemy of humanity, then executed or even experimented on. Reno can’t let it come to that. Kafka didn’t ask for this affliction. Kafka is a good man.
“Alright, then what did I just say?” Furuhashi asks. Gods, but he’s a persistent one for sure. Reno puffs out his cheeks, annoyed at the distraction. And Furuhashi has a tendency to do that. Be a distraction, that is.
“You said, ‘Are you even listening to me?’” Reno tells him.
“Yeah, just now! But what did I say before that?” Furuhashi is fuming, his face matching the red of his hair. It’s a funny sight, really. His hair is droopy and not at all at its usual volume, as if it’s as worn out as the rest of him, too.
“Something about Kaiju no.9,” Reno mumbles.
Furuhashi scoffs. “You barely pass with an answer like that, but I’ll allow it since it’s still kinda right. You must be really out of it, huh, Ichikawa?”
Reno shrugs.
Furuhashi shifts in his bed, eyes still following Reno. He looks like he’s hesitating to say something. Reno has never known him to hesitate.
“What.” The word comes out sharper than Reno intends, but Furuhashi is kind of creeping him out with his serious expression.
“Don’t laugh,” Furuhashi warns. Then he continues before Reno can promise it. “But… You scared me a lot back there. When that kaiju shot you and then it… it kept shooting you and I couldn’t do anything about it. It broke my gun and then—you didn’t get back up. You always get back up.”
Reno lets that soak in. His tongue feels heavy and his fingers clench. It’s strange hearing his own horror in someone else’s words.
“Well, I told you to run,” Reno says. Doesn’t Furuhashi realize he scared Reno too?
“You think you’re better than me, Reno?” Furuhashi asks.
The sentence feels like a slap in the face.
“No, no—what?” Reno says. It’s the opposite. Furuhashi is a great officer. Reno’s not better than anyone. But he’s trying to be good, at least. He’s trying. “I don’t think like that. We’re both officers after all.”
Furuhashi nods. “That’s what I thought, too. I just wanted to confirm it. You’re surprisingly hard to figure out, you know that?”
“Speak for yourself,” Reno says.
Furuhashi barks out a laugh.
“Don’t distract me with your back-talk, I’m trying to be sincere here,” Furuhashi scolds, giving Reno a toothy grin. Reno smiles back, instinctively. It feels like coming back to life. Then, Furuhashi says, “What I was trying to say is: if you don’t think you’re better than your fellow officers then don’t tell me to run. No matter what, you can bet I’m gonna fight by your side as your equal.”
“Yeah,” Reno says, stunned by the ferocity in his tone. “Of–of course. I mean, you already did. And anyway, I think we did well for our first team-up, considering.”
Although he doesn’t seem angry like before, Furuhashi turns red again.
“If you can call winding up here as doing well,” Furuhashi protests, but he’s still grinning, red face and all. “Our–our next team-up will have better results than this. We’ll beat that weirdo into dust. We’ll kill a hundred kaiju.”
“A thousand kaiju,” Reno counters.
“This cocky punk,” Furuhashi says, and he somehow has the ability to make the insult sound suddenly friendly and fond. Reno swallows. “Go to sleep already. You look like shit.”
“You too,” Reno tells him. Furuhashi ignores him to turn off the lights, bathing them in darkness, with only the hum of the medical machinery to keep them company. Reno shuffles in his bed, stares up at the ceiling, and tries to calm the fluttering of his stomach.
“Good night,” Reno says.
-
(Two weeks later:
“You’re always worrying about that old guy but who the hell is gonna worry about you, Reno?!” Furuhashi demands. He grabs Reno by the shoulders, shaking him.
Reno is shocked into silence. He can’t look away from Furuhashi’s serious expression. Vice Captain Hoshina is cackling somewhere behind them. Drinks are still, somehow, being poured.
“Hey, I worry about him too!” Kafka protests loudly.
“And what good is that going to do, one percent? You should start by worrying about yourself so he doesn’t have to!” Shinomiya tells him ruthlessly.
“I got your back—you said it yourself, Reno! So don’t go forgetting our agreement already!” Furuhashi scolds him, shaking him some more. Reno nods vigorously. It’s not quite getting through to Furuhashi, though.
“Agreement? When did they get so close?” Haruichi is asking Aoi.
“Who knows. They’re always around each other, it could’ve happened anytime,” he replies, shrugging.
“Oho, is it like that already?” Hoshina asks, sharing a glance with Okonogi.
“It might just be, Vice Captain,” Okonogi says seriously, pushing up her glasses.
“Usually something like this happens as their careers develop,” Hoshina hums, looking contemplative. Then, he grins. “Our new crop really is shaping up to be exceptional in more ways than one, huh?”)