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Furuhashi Iharu and Ichikawa Reno, two of the standout transfers from the Third Division.
Fantastic marks in sharpshooting, athletics, and combat suit potential each. Commendations from both Captain Ashiro and Vice Captain Hoshina. Mentions of an intense rivalry but one that has no apparent negative impact on their teamwork in the field. In fact, the paper in Ogata’s hands claims the exact opposite—that these two are quite passionately invested in the safety and well-being of the other.
But the more he reads, the more it sticks out to him—somehow even more so than the note that one of them, Ichikawa, has real potential to become a Captain in the near future—that most of the notes on their files are regarding their relationship.
Specifically, there’s a list of reprimands from Vice Captain Hoshina for both officers, including innocuous ones like: quit being a nuisance in the bathhouses to focus on training not bickering with each other to leave the other officers out of your pissing matches, and so on until he reaches less innocuous: stop sacrificing your well-being to save each other and instead please alert your platoon leader, or me, or even Captain Ashiro when you come across life-threatening situations that’s literally what we’re here for, hello???
Alright. See this is why Ogata doesn’t trust exam scores or aptitude results alone. You’ll never get a good look into someone’s psyche until you get to the complaints written about them.
And so either way, it looks like they're about to be his newest problem children.
Ogata sighs and places the file down, rubbing his forehead. Transfers between divisions are not a rarity by any means but this wide-scale relocation of officers coming from the Third hasn’t been easy to manage. He glances over at the bottle of sake on the corner of his desk, fingers twitching with the urge to grab it.
Touko clears her throat and glares at him.
“I wasn’t going to,” he tells his Vice Captain—uselessly, because she does not look like she believes him either. “I was reaching for the phone, really.”
“Allow me, Captain,” Touko says as if she’s doing him a kind service. The stern gleam in her eye as she passes him the desk phone says otherwise. Ogata feels a bit like a chastised child. Sullenly, he thanks her and punches in a number he already has memorized.
With the tell-tale click of someone picking up a call, comes the prompt answer, “This is Ashiro.”
“Captain Ashiro, this is Ogata,” he greets.
“Captain Ogata, this is a surprise,” she says, not sounding surprised at all. If Ichikawa and Furuhashi are anything to go by, then the Third Division’s fresh crop of recruits have clearly been… something else this year—perhaps she has been receiving calls from all the Captains regarding her transfers recently. Ogata closes his eyes and wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into this time. She continues, “What can I do for you?”
“I have a few questions about the transfers,” Ogata says.
“Of course,” she replies. Yeah, she’s definitely been sorting out calls like this. Ogata sympathizes with her, but he thinks he’d sympathize with her even more with a drink in his hands.
“Ichikawa Reno,” he says, instead, because Touko meets his gaze again and her eye is suddenly twitching. “...and Furuhashi Iharu. I’m reading the report on the recent neutralization operation in Sagamihara. It is to my understanding that these two officers engaged with the humanoid kaiju, Kaiju no.9?”
“That is correct,” Ashiro confirms, her tone cool as ever. “As stated in the report, Officers Ichikawa and Furuhashi became separated from their platoon in a zone that we now know had deliberate communications interference. Knowing that they had no option of calling reinforcements, Officers Ichikawa and Furuhashi chose to engage Kaiju no.9 or otherwise forfeit their lives. They held out well until Kaiju no.8 arrived on the scene to distract no.9.”
Ogata brings the phone away from his ear. He stares at it for a moment. Captain Ashiro is hard to read on a good day, in person, let alone on a crackling phone call kilometers away—but she sounds defensive, and strangely so.
“I didn’t mean to imply they performed poorly or above their stations. They fought well and survived together, that is all we can ask for from rookies who’ve come face-to-face with an identified kaiju like no.9,” Ogata says, scratching his jaw. “But rather I see here in his report that Officer Ichikawa told Officer Furuhashi to run away once it became clear that they were outmatched. Officer Furuhashi vehemently refused.”
He pauses, trying to word this next part carefully, but it’s all so strange. “This level of determined attachment is not often shown among rookies. Didn’t previous training reports indicate that these two have a more… antagonistic relationship—a rivalry at the very least?”
It’s a crushing moral dilemma, a turning point for new recruits. The idea that one day, one might need to sacrifice themselves for the other to stay safe. Against no.9, Ichikawa must have realized if they both ran away, it would follow and kill them both. They needed a distraction. It's clear Ichikawa had the intuition to realize exactly that, that he and Furuhashi were hopelessly outmatched against the numbered kaiju—which is a tragic bout of maturity from a mere rookie officer.
And this is no knock against Furuhashi, but to stay anyway... well, that’s just suicidal. That’s way beyond his station and his duties. There's no shame in staying alive. No one would have punished him for taking advantage of Ichikawa’s sacrifice to retreat. But… he didn’t.
Ascribed rivals, antagonistic teammates, the constant recorded bickering and subsequent complaints—that's not the full story here. Ogata just wants to understand what these two have going on for them to be so okay with dying side-by-side like that.
Then Ashiro sighs—actually sighs. Maybe she needs a drink more than he does.
“I believe my vice captain would be better suited to answering this kind of question, as he is the one that oversees the training and general onboarding of our newest recruits,” she says dryly, “but yes. He has mentioned their rivalry to me a few times.”
Something in the way she says that gives Ogata the impression that it’s been more than a few times and more than just a passing mention. Knowing Hoshina, blunt but with good humor—Ogata believes it. He waits for her to continue.
“Whereas most recruits naturally used Shinomiya Kikoru as a reference point for their combat progress, Furuhashi latched onto Ichikawa almost immediately,” Ashiro tells him. “But to call them “rivals” implies that the idea is mutual. Ichikawa responds well to Furuhashi and his challenges but I don’t believe he realizes the full extent of Furuhashi’s focus on him. Along the way, both have managed to raise their combat suit potentials through the push and pull of their relationship. Though in actuality, it is my understanding that they are… friends?”
“You don’t sound too sure of that,” Ogata says wryly.
“Hoshina believes they are friends. He mentioned to me that they often train together and eat in the mess hall at the same table,” Ashiro explains.
“And that’s your basis for their friendship?” Ogata wonders aloud.
“Hoshina focuses on cultivating the officers, I focus on running the base,” she says, “So yes, I trust his insight on the matter.”
“You trust his gossip,” Ogata says, clarifying.
“Insight,” Ashiro repeats, mumbling a bit.
“Alright then, friends,” Ogata agrees, letting it go because he feels bad for her again. “They're friends not rivals. Because they eat together and train together—and instead of fleeing for their lives, they’d stubbornly stay together while fighting a deadly identified kaiju as rookie officers.”
Ashiro gives an easy noise of agreement. Ogata gapes at his phone. That was a non-sequitur—a chance for Ashiro to elaborate even further!
“That about sums it up, I believe. Though, a word of advice, Captain Ogata,” Ashiro says. “Do not separate them.”
“I see.” Ogata emphatically does not. “Well then. This chat has been very much appreciated. Thank you for your time, Captain Ashiro.”
“Good luck, Captain Ogata,” Ashiro says kindly, before she hangs up.
If this is what Ogata got—a neutralizing prodigy and an equally talented friend that refuses to be left behind—well. He can’t imagine that Narumi is doing much better with little Shinomiya and Mr. Kaiju no.8 himself. Ogata can see it now, Ashiro’s vice captain is laughing himself sick wherever he is. At least someone is having a good time with these assignments. It certainly isn't the rest of them.
Ogata reaches over for his sake and pours himself a cup, ignoring Touko’s squawk and dodging her attempts to stop him. Yeah, he definitely deserves a drink right about now.