Chapter Five Part Two | Yamamoto
Chapter 5 Part 2 | Yamamoto
21:54 ― Tokyo: Central ― 20°C Cloudly
Inside one of the many monolithic structures, embedded deep into the ground at it's roots. Erected within the district 'Central'. Surrounded by huge walls, separating it from the civilian world of Tokyo.
An office, spacious, with dark wooden walls and gracious windows. Houses only one man - tirelessly working through mountains of papers strewn upon his desk. Despite the presence of sunlight, the room remains too large to fully illuminate.
Only the scratching of a fountain pen, gliding across parchment, and intermediate ringing of it's ink pot.
He's at rest, only doing a menial task, yet his face is drooped in perpetual anger. Leaving the impression he is no normal man. Especially his donning of officer clothing, 2 stars pinned cleanly on his epaulettes.
A knock on the oak doors draws his attention upwards. This officer, sets down his pen neatly. "Come in."
It opens slightly ajar, Shigure stepping through, holding his briefcase. "Excuse me Sir." Staring into the man's eyes, the Captain gives a sharp salute.
Breathing in deeply and leaning back, the older officer gestures to the front of his desk. "I'm glad you could make it, Captain. I know it was short notice..."
Shigure closes the door gently and makes his approach, listening intently, despite his face remaining at ease. He stops firmly at the helm of his superior's desk.
"...However, there have been some developments." The man grooms his moustache, allowing time for the words to register to Shigure. "I'm aware you are not the greatest 'fan' of speaking. So I haven't the intention to make you do much. I'm aware two of your actions today..."
He slides a paper across the desk, filled with writing. Shigure eyes out his name, narrowing his eyes expectantly at the officer.
Squinting, as if to allow him to read. "Trainee Ichijo, Comatose. Induced by a severe head injury and shock. Trainee Takeuchi, hospitalized. Sustained a number of broken bones and internal bleeding. Use of a... Live grenade." His fiery gaze lifts to Shigure's. "Does that sound familiar, Captain?"
"Yes Sir. I'll be demoted, I expect?"
'Damnit... demoted lower than Captain? I was assigned higher rank when I enlisted. I'll be going even further back in this hierarchy it seems.'
He only eyes Shigure. The silence palpable, coursing through the elegant office. "Tell me, young Shigure. Do you carry a lucky charm?"
What a strange question. A lucky charm? Now, Shigure does not believe in luck. His skill has driven him to the end of the world and back - not mere luck. "No."
"Hm..." He idly stirs the ink with his fountain pen, softly causing the sounds of metal to linger around. "Because you. You are a lucky man."
Just before Shigure requests an elaboration on this... admittedly cryptic comment. The officer sat at the desk raises his hand.
"As I said, Shigure. There have been some developments in this war. Developments that benefit your goal." He opens a draw, retrieving a large, seemingly dated document, and unfurls it on his desk. Tapping his finger on the sea of Okhotsk. "The Northern Federation is on the move. As always, there is radio silence whenever we attempt communication."
"I fail to see how this involves me."
"Really now, Captain? I'm sure you know exactly what I require of you. Or would you like me to spell it out so any eavesdroppers can get a perfect record?" His eyes tighten, watching Shigure as he returns the stare.
"I refuse to jump to conclusions. What is it you want from me Yamamoto, Sir?" He isn't going to play this speculative game, not today. If something involves him - affects him - he won't take subtlety as an answer.
"It's simple. Our radars and intelligence indicate something of utmost concern."
"You're getting back in the cockpit."
The briny frozen sea continues to fight the cold steel of Sovetskog's and Kronsh's hulls. Coming south, out of that endless snowfall. Their silent advance, carrying that very ice with them.
"The 1st Carrier Fleet of the Northern Federation are sailing. Flagships leading an armada." He traces his finger further up the map, stopping atop the East Siberian Sea. "From what we've gathered. They are here."
But Shigure - He cannot hear those words. They melt away. He is... shocked...
Operate a Gleipnir, after being forbidden to do so, for so long? He opens his mouth to speak, but finds himself unable to quell the ringing in his ears.
He can only listen to the silent words of Yamamoto, trying to make sense of everything.
The details are trivial. He could be sent anywhere, for any reason, anything for the chance at being an Operator once more.
"Sir."
The Brigadier Marshal finds himself interrupted. For a moment, he freezes, staring at the map. Before slowly, he lifts his head. "What?" His irritation lacks disguise. The lack of conversation grasps him for a moment.
Deafening ringing in Shigure's ears subside, allowing his jaw to move, finally - to speak.
"Are you saying... That I can look after them one more time...?"
"In these cold lands..."
"Does that mean... That I have to lose them all again...?"
"My friends..."
"I must add more blood to my hands...?"
Gradually, Yamamoto rises from his seat. Allowing the map to furl back together, methodically walking around the desk, halting in front of Shigure. His greying hair spreads over his face, waving lightly from his movements. The Captain's face beads with sweat, almost pale... fearful.
Yamamoto's voice is quiet, barely a whisper.
His expression, appearing gentle and convincing, though his eyes betray no semblance of a kind man - not an ounce of care.
"This moment surpasses death."
"Trying to live and survive?"
"Don't."
"Destroy that silhouette of what's anticipated. Shigure."
"You've given it all up before."
"Now. Do it again."
