[v6&tokio feat okada/ken and taichi/joshima] duty up, asshole
Title: Duty Up, Asshole
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (V6, TOKIO, mentions of KinKi Kids and Arashi)
Characters: Most prominently Okada, Nagase, Matsuoka and Inohara, but all of V6 and TOKIO make appearances
Pairings: Okada/Ken and Taichi/Joshima, but in the background
Word Count: ~4400
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, alien invasion sci-fi apocalypse shit, sexual innuendo
Summary: V6 and TOKIO are friendly competitors in the battle for survival against the enemy called only as the Swarm. When three of their members are isolated, they team up to deliver a world of hurt.
Notes: written for ulchick418 during senpai_exchange.
"So apparently, last night TOKIO decided to go a little 'out of their way' and cleared every Swarmer out of our district," Inohara reported, going through the mail, "and they left us this." He held up a notepad, the middle of which starred a scribbled version of the five TOKIO members standing victorious over the comically tiny V6 team.
"Those assholes," Sakamoto groaned, leaning forward over the top of Nagano's work table and letting his forehead hit the top of the sturdy metal table, "can't they steal fun from those brats Arashi or something instead?"
"Taichi-kun wanted to give Leader a birthday present," Nagano murmured, up to his elbows in the guts of the flying gunship, "Go, can you hand me the wrench?
"What do I get out of it?" Go called back, rolling over and grinning down at them all from the garage catwalk. He caught Sakamoto's eye, and apparently Sakamoto still had it, because it made Go sit up and root through the toolbox.
"Got it," Go said, but Go being Go the next words out of his mouth were, "look out below~" as he tossed it toward the metal drum full of trashed parts next to Nagano's work station. Both Nagano and Sakamoto shrieked, wincing, and both Go and Inohara's laughter echoed through the garage's high ceilings.
"Laugh it up," Sakamoto grumbled, "you two can do duty at the old folk's home."
"Oh, but you have so many kindred spirits there, Sakamoto-kun!" Ken and Okada were finally in from midnight turret duty, apparently. Ken grinned at them all, looking disheveled, exhausted and somehow still chipper.
"Where's Okada?" Sakamoto asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"Special Forces needed him for oxygen training," Ken answered, waving his hand dismissively, "did I get any mail?"
"Spam," Inohara reported, "unless this postcard about 'growing your Johnny' is for real?"
"Yeah, it's legit," Ken answered, "I ordered it for you!"
The Johnny Super Soldier Program (JSSP) was established in New Era 13, after the attack of the Swarm--tall, hissing creatures with arms like blades and teeth like saws--decimated more than half of the world's population. The majority of the Earth's population retreated into major metropolitan areas, which were then covered with kinetic barriers simply called 'domes', and work on a counterattack began. Sakamoto remembered the establishment of the program, and volunteering. Fighting the Swarm as a simple soldier had left him without use of his legs, damage which had been prepared by the so-called Johnny Process, and by the end of it he was more than willing to use his super-powered new body to fight the aliens that had taken away his family. They'd all suffered, losing limbs (Ken's entire right arm was new) or senses (Okada had been blinded by Swarmer acid) or suffering catastrophic internal damage that left them little to lose (like Nagano, who'd had most of his upper chest replaced as emergency treatment). Sakamoto had been given command of their rag-tag bunch and ordered to turn them into a Special Forces Unit the world would be jealous of. It had taken a few more lost limbs and a whole lot of bullets, but they were the best infiltration unit in the entire JSSP. V6 were popularly known as the best of both worlds--the experience of Sakamoto, Nagano, and Inohara lent them a whole layer of survival instincts the relative newbies couldn't match, but the youth of Go, Ken, and Okada kept them limber and energetic. Their only competition when it came to sheer destructive power was the mobile tank unit, TOKIO.
TOKIO was an anomaly even among the other "Johnnys". They were super-soldiers, of course, like the rest of them, but the added artillery of their beloved tank, Kojima, made them legendary. Well, the tank and their penchant for blowing up entire city blocks by accident, anyway. The members of TOKIO and V6 had gone through training together, and they were all great friends, but the generally friendly rivalry between their groups often took a competitive turn that caused 'excitement', as General Higashiyama tended to put it. That meant TOKIO and V6 were usually put on opposite ends of the city when time came to draw up the duty roster, unless there was a Swarm invasion that needed to be violently blown up.
"HEY GUYS!"
"Nagase-kun," Sakamoto said, lifting his hands to his ears, "what do we owe this particular visit to?"
"I stole the figurine on your gunship, so I have to give it back and apologize," Nagase said, so dully it had to be an instruction from his Leader. Sakamoto sighed.
"That's the fourth time this month," he commented.
"Yeah, well, the idiot trio stole the hubcap off Kojima-chan," Nagase answered, puffing up and looking annoyed, "on inspection day so I got latrine duty. Assholes!" Go and Ken's laughter could be heard echoing from the catwalk, and Nagase flicked them off without missing a beat. "Make them give it back," Nagase demanded.
Sakamoto rubbed at his temples. "Not what I need today," he said, loudly, "give it back. And if you throw it off of the catwalk again I'm going to have you running boot camp for a month."
The ensuing whining ensured TOKIO would have their errant hubcap back by nightfall--though not in its previous pristine condition. Joshima's wailing about the various curse words and uncomplimentary things about Nagase's mother scribbled across the front could be heard throughout nearly the whole city.
Sakamoto shook his head, pulling his lips in to hide his laughter when Go, Ken and Okada began high-fiving each other and the rest of the members of V6 with enthusiasm. To be honest, he'd thought the bit about the goat had been particularly clever.
"Duty up," Inohara barked with sunrise, passing out crisp white paper, each signed by General Higashi in a wide imperial scrawl.
Okada watched the others brush sleep from their eyes. When they had first replaced his ruined eyes with robotics, he'd done much the same as they were out of habit, but as he'd gotten used to his superior eyes he'd stopped bothering pretending he was totally human, much the same way Inohara no longer needed to do strength workouts, every muscle in his body strengthened by synthetic fibers and giving him super-human strength even beyond the improvements they'd all received. Okada looked down at his copy of the roster, distracted.
"They put TOKIO in District 5," he said, "weren't they banned from District 5?"
"We were banned from District 12 and we're there first," Ken answered, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder against him and pointing at where it said 'V6 - Patrol' on the rotation. Okada hummed agreement, tilting his head against Ken's for a long moment as they read over the list.
"Ah, we have the rest of the day off," Okada noticed, belatedly. He turned toward Ken (and, next to him, Go) and grinned.
"Keep it PG this time," Sakamoto called after them, as they barreled out of the V6 dormitory.
All three of them laughed when they heard Inohara's 'fat chance of that' echoing behind them in the hallway.
"I'm just saying, they could have mentioned that they thought there was a Swarm attack coming," Ken said, as he re-loaded his rifle. Okada grunted, leaning around cover and narrowing his eyes, engaging the zoom function. Go was messing with their malfunctioning emergency beacon, cursing as he tried to repair the damage done by a grenade.
"We have thirteen or so coming around the block," he called back, "where's the gunship?"
His radio implant crackled to life at his temple just then. "She's on her way!"
Sakamoto appeared between them then. "Go, how's the emergency beacon coming?"
"It's, uh, it's not," Go said, looking back over his shoulder and shaking his head.
Sakamoto looked roughly like he wanted to throttle someone--"all right," he said, finally, "Go, Ken, where's the closest tethered emergency beacon?"
Ken ducked behind the wall, letting Okada take his place firing at the approaching aliens, and flicked open his radar. "The beacon on the border of the district is two blocks west and three north," he said, "the District 12 beacon is eighteen blocks east and--" he stopped when Sakamoto lifted a hand.
"Get to the border beacon," Sakamoto ordered, "go. Inohara, Nagano, hurry. Okada, we need to fall back to the apartment complex and wait for the gunship--"he leaned out to empty his rifle at the approaching Swarmers, then leaned back in--"and act as a distraction. Duty up."
Ken leaned around Sakamoto to give Okada one last grin and a thumbs up. "Duty up, Okada-kun," he called over his shoulder, and smacked Go on the back with his robotic arm, "we'll see you at home, boys!"
"What do you mean we can't go back?!" "Leader's still out there! He's immortal, he can't die!" "General, please, just let us go..."
Sakamoto ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. "I guess we're not the only ones looking to head back out into District 12," he said, and crossed the hallway to tap the keypad. Higashiyama's door slid open, and both Higashiyama and the members of TOKIO turned their heads to stare at him.
"Sir," Sakamoto said, "V6 is heading back out. Go-kun and Ken-kun are still out there."
"I can't in good conscience send you back out there, we don't know if they're even alive," Higashiyama answered, rubbing at his temples, "it's not that I don't want to save them, but if there's nothing to save and any of you get hurt in the process..."
"That's a risk we're going to have to take, sir," Sakamoto answered, "my subordinates are out there. And we are going to save them."
Higashiyama sighed. "Team up, then," he said, pointing vaguely at the four remaining members of TOKIO, "don't blow up the whole damn city, you hear me?"
"We're splitting up," Sakamoto said, hands on his hips, "one to one. Unless the fine gentlemen of TOKIO had some other plan?"
Taichi looked around at the others, and they took a moment to whisper back and forth. After a moment of whispered arguing, they burst into a sudden rock-paper-scissors tournament, and when Nagase emerged victorious over Taichi, Taichi turned back toward V6.
"We're up for it," he said, "...and Nagase gets Okada."
Nagase grinned over Taichi's head, hopping off the back of the tank and immediately throwing his forearm atop Okada's head. "Yo," he said, and laughed when Okada shoved his arm off of his head.
"Then Inohara will go with..."
"Mabo," Inocchi chirped, and his wide grin was so enthsiastic Sakamoto had to really remind himself that the last time those two were paired up they had destroyed an entire glass production company.
"And that means I get Nagano-kun," Yamaguchi boomed, suddenly, "have fun with Sakamoto-kun, Taichi."
Sakamoto whimpered.
"Well, then, Sakamoto-kun," Taichi called, "you get to drive the tank!"
"That's what I was afraid you were going to say," Sakamoto grumbled, glaring after Yamaguchi and Nagano (and even Matsuoka and Inohara, who were now involved in a healthy elbowing contest--at least they hadn't graduated to actual bullets yet).
"So, Okada," Nagase called out across the street, apparently forgetting once again that he even had a radio, "is Ken even putting out yet?" He cursed when his gun ran out of bullets and tossed the strap of the rifle over his shoulder, fumbling around for once of his many other guns. Nagase had always, even in training, been useless with reloading guns, so as soon as he'd graduated training he'd taken to carrying a multitude of them instead. Okada had taken a position in a broken-down pickup truck, his sniper rifle set up over the hood as he glared at his radar, looking for the tell-tale blip of one of his teammates. Nagase had taken up position behind some rubble, and was now in the midst of trying to wrestle his shotgun off of his back.
"Why are you so interested in everyone else's sex lives?" Okada asked over the radio, before he relaxed his shoulders and fired a single shot, which echoed through the heads of three Swarmers in a row--not bad, he figured.
"'cause I like to know my friends are getting laid," Nagase called back, before managing to pull the pin on a grenade. He tossed it, abruptly, toward the herd of aliens now rushing headlong down the street. Okada often had his doubts about the standing plan to defend the city--isolate the aliens in one District, close it off, and kill them all--but he did know one thing. These things were even dumber than Nagase, and it showed when half of the front-runners exploded from barreling right over the grenade. Damn things didn't even think about using splitting up into pairs or trios, which would have made them deadly long before this.
"I'm not telling you anything after that time you told everyone Go had finally lost his virginity. We should move up," Okada mused.
"What, so he isn't putting out?" Nagase seemed legitimately flabbergasted.
Okada leveled a glare at the back of Nagase's big stupid head. "That's not what I said," he answered.
"Oh. Oooooh. You're not putting out?!" It figured the only time Nagase remembered how to use the all-company radio channel was when he was saying shit like that.
"Sometimes," Okada began, "I wonder if they removed part of your brain when they added that metal plate to your skull."
"...fuck you! Oi--let's go over a block and head toward the beacon!" Nagase shouted, "I think I've got a reading on Leader!"
Okada hooked his sniper rifle on his back and reached for the assault rifle strapped to the small of his back, setting his shoulders as he popped up on the balls of his feet. He fired a series of small bursts--five down, a pause, three more--and when there were enough piled up bodies to stop the Swarm for a moment, he hopped over the side of the truck and sprinted to meet Nagase at the corner.
"Shall we?" Nagase asked, "you take point, I'll take care of these boys following us." He had finally gotten his grenade launcher ready, and his grin was wide.
"All right," Okada said, looking at the launcher warily, "don't back it up and blow off your arms again. How many times have you had them replaced?"
"Eh, two or three, 's no big deal," Nagase practically sang, and Okada rolled his eyes as he started the long walk down the block. Behind him he could hear Nagase hooting and hollering, and figured at least someone was having fun. Go and Ken had been two thirds of him for years, now, a trio of guys light on foot and easy to work with. They'd become a team, a new kind of death-dealing machine, talented in three different ways. Ken was top of the class in close combat, even now, ten years after graduation, and Go had a way with electronics that made him invaluable. As for Okada, well, Okada had spent four years studying cybernetics, and while he was certainly more than his augmentations, the implants made a great soldier even better. Especially when it came to sniping--Okada was at peace in his own mind, at peace in this body, and he could wait, more patiently than nearly anybody he had ever met. Go and Ken being missing was like having half of his hands gone. Sure, he could work, but it wasn't anything like full strength. Having Nagase around instead probably gave him back one hand, though--Okada and Nagase had spent a couple of months in the field together as teenagers fresh out of training camp, and they'd found themselves patching together a rough kind of informal partnership. Nagase was kind of an idiot, but he was adaptable and creative, and Okada liked that in a fellow soldier. Nagase would always have your back--somehow.
He heard Nagase call 'grenade out!', then the short 'boom' of Nagase launching an explosive, and Okada ducked his head down, settling his feet flat on the ground and bending his knees a bit. The ensuing explosion rocked the rubble and cars around Okada, but he was able to stand up and continue nearly immediately. Working with Nagase again was like riding a bike--they were on-and-off partners every few years, the golden boys of their era and a mighty example of the power of the Johnny's Program--and Okada would never forget how to pedal this one.
"So which way?" Okada called over the radio.
"One more block and then turn left!" Nagase's voice echoed from farther back. Okada laughed, shaking his head, and broke into a jog. As he turned the corner, he slowed, his hackles up, and froze. He leaned his head forward, peering around the corner--five Swarmers. Okada eyed the ground across the street and leaped out into the open. He'd taken down two by the time they realized he was there, and he backed up as the other three began their loping approach. One fell with six bullets lodged in his chest, and then another, but by the time Okada looked around for the third it had disappeared. Okada turned on his heel, gun tight within his fingers as he peered around.
He heard the thing's wheezy breathing before anything else, and ducked the swing of its arm blade instinctively. He threw his weight forward on his right foot, and whirled on his foot, launching himself shoulder-first at the damn thing. Get them away from you. That was what Ken had said, right when he'd first been recruited, green and new and from completely out in the boondocks, getting used to new eyes and useless. Ken had been a grinning hellion then, out-stepping their instructors and out-thinking their classmates. His advice worked well now, as the Swarmer stumbled back from colliding with Okada's heavy mass, and Okada was able to swing his rifle up to pump the damn thing full of bullets. He wiped yellow alien blood from his face and straightened, fist up.
"Nagase, hurry the hell up," he called. He heard Nagase thumping his way through a jog around the corner. When Nagase finally pulled up to a stop when he was nearly atop Okada, his big arm tossing itself about Okada's shoulder as they looked down the street to the next block--which looked roughly like a slaughterhouse.
"Can they go five minutes without getting into some killing competition?" Nagase asked, as they watched Matsuoka and Inohara bicker their way down the block.
"Question for the ages," Okada answered, narrowing his eyes, "I have the tank on radar. They're still moving."
"Ahhh, Taichi's all pissed because he couldn't have his usual post-mission fuck with Leader earlier, good luck to Sakamoto-kun," Nagase mused aloud, "you see the gunship anywhere?"
"No," Okada answered, "though that might be because your arm is in front of my face."
Nagase chuckled, pulling back. "Whoops," he said, "guess we better get in there?"
"Ladies first," Okada said, before he could help himself, and laughed aloud when Nagase finally comprehended the joke and, as a result, tripped over himself.
"I hate you," Nagase grumbled, and Okada smacked Nagase's shoulder with some good cheer.
"Hey! MABO!" Nagase refused to use his radio no matter how strategic it would be to do otherwise, Okada noted, wincing from a suddenly ringing eardrum.
Matsuoka glanced back momentarily, nodding hello before he turned back toward the turret at his hip. "Nagase," he said, as they got closer, "take this guy and put him on top of the dumpster. Take this--"he slapped a small block of C4 into Nagase's hand--"and put it underneath the thing. Duty up, douchebag."
"Yes your Highness, of course your Highness," Nagase grumbled under his breath, and hefted both turret and explosives in his hands. Then he was off, and Okada looked up at Matsuoka.
"Need me for anything?" Okada asked, scratching the back of his head.
"No, we're falling back," Matsuoka answered, "meeting up with the tank and taking the ground route in--Gussan and Nagano-kun got ahold of us on the other channel, they found our Leader and your better thirds, but the gunship's pinned down. Time to do some exterminating, eh? Oi, Inocchi, get down from the roof!"
"You two work together a lot better than you pretend to," Okada mused.
Matsuoka looked at him, grinning widely. "Hey, you get used to people eventually," he said, shrugged, "Inohara's still a massive moron--"Inohara threw a shingle from the roof at him--"but he's a not-totally-useless moron."
"Your vote of confidence is inspiring," Inohara called, as he hooked a grapple on the roof and began his rappel toward the ground, "and really, you're a moron too! A moron obsessed with beer!"
"I'm from TOKIO, beer is our lifeblood," Matsuoka said, defensively.
"And nudity is our uniform," Inohara parroted back.
Matsuoka offered him a friendly thumbs up. "You're like a regular TOKIO guy already," he said, fondly, "I always knew you were jealous--stop fucking throwing shingles at me!"
"Yeah, you'd know all about shingles," Inohara called, and laughed at the pleasant middle finger Matsuoka offered him before he gathered up all of the remote detonators attached to the C4 he'd no doubt attached to every flammable surface on the block.
Inohara dropped down the last five or six feet, offering a wide grin at Okada. "We better catch up," he said, "or he'll forget where we're going."
"I heard that!" Matsuoka called back.
The four of them regrouped around the corner, ducking into a side street as Matsuoka fiddled with his radio. "You're around the corner?" Matsuoka repeated for the rest of them, "you'll meet us at the corner with the door wide open. Got it."
"Duty up, people," Inohara said, briskly, "let's get to it."
"Who the hell gave you a license?" Matsuoka bellowed as the lot of them pushed at the bumped of the tank.
"No one," Inohara said, laughter wracking his body, "he doesn't have one!"
"And we let him drive Kojima-chan?!" Nagase yelped, putting his shoulder into it and pushing, the massive strength of the implants in his arms and chest making it easy enough to push the tank forward out of the wreckage of the now-ruined apartment building and back out onto the street, "let me drive!"
"Not just no," Matsuoka snapped, "but hell no. That's my spot, Nagase, cut it out--" the two of them shoved at each other uselessly as Inohara ducked into the back of the tank and slid into the driver's seat Sakamoto had vacated. Okada took one look at them, shaking his head, and crawled up the side to join Taichi at the mounted gun, cradling his sniper rifle close and his head moving, hawk-like, toward any suddent movements.
"Thanks, guys, I always wanted to drive a tank!" Inohara enthused, and that sent both Okada and Taichi into a round of laughter that had both Matsuoka and Nagase fuming.
"Hop in or I'm leaving you behind, boys!"
That was enough to get them both in gear, though they sulked the whole way toward the beacon.
"Now approaching the rendezvous point," Inohara called back, in his best air stewardess imitation, "please be ready to exit the vehicle and murder every villainous alien in sight!"
They turned the corner. Inohara put on the brakes, slamming the tank to a stop. "That's a lot more than we thought," he said, lightly.
"More aliens just means more bullets," Sakamoto answered, "or, at least, that's what I tell the kids at boot."
Matsuoka was already pulling and twisting wires and reaching for detonator signals, his mind clearly elsewhere.
?
"Nagase, what are you..."
Nagase had turned on the bench behind the cockpit, pulling open the overhead, and he looked back from swapping out assault rifles. "'s easier to just grab new weapons," he said.
"He means he's too dumb to keep track of ammo," Matsuoka reported for him, and ducked the swing of Nagase's elbow.
Abruptly, the back hatch of the tank opened up, and an irritated-looking Taichi glared at them all. "Can we get this paryt started, ladies?" he asked, pointedly, "I wanna go home."
"He means his dick misses Leader," Nagase said, distracted, and hauled a wicked-looking rocket launcher out of the overhead. He inspected it momentarily. "We have any rockets for this?" he asked Matsuoka.
"Under the navigator seat," Matsuoka reported, nodding toward Sakamoto's seat.
"Gimme my rockets!" Nagase sang, and Sakamoto's face changed to one of abject horror when Nagase dove over the top of the chair, his upper between his legs, looking for the rockets.
"Hey, guys? A little help here?" Yamaguchi's voice buzzing over the radio was scratchy and a bit irritated, and it had Inohara scrambling to mess with the frequency on the tank receiver.
"You guys still alive?" Nagase asked. From his position upside down between Sakamoto's legs, the sound should have been muted, but somehow Nagase managed to yell so loud the whole tank echoed.
"We're fine!" Nagano sounded fairly cheery, for the circumstances, "Go-kun and Ken-kun have rigged up an explosive, and Yamaguchi-kun helped me repair the gunship enough to airlift all five of us out of here. We need you to clear out some of these guys so the five of us can meet up. Joshima-kun is with Go and Ken near the beacon. Yamaguchi-kun and I are about twenty meters ahead of you--Yamaguchi-kun is on top of the gunship!"
"Ah, I see him," Okada called down.
"All right," Sakamoto said, "Mabo, Nagase, Taichi, go toward Go and Ken and Leader. Okada, Inohara, you're with me. Let's go rescue our gunship. Duty up, gentlemen."
Matsuoka and Nagase shared a glance before hopping out of the tank, following a roaring Taichi and his double-barreled shotgun. Inohara reached once more for the controls, pointing the tank toward the crowding aliens around the gunship. As they drove closer he could see Yamaguchi firing at them from the roof of the gun-loaded helicopter and Nagano firing the mounted machine gun out the side door. "Okada," Sakamoto called, "get ready to fire."
"Aye, sir."
"Three... two... one!"
"So, what, the three of you just holed up in liquor store and did shots between turns on the beacon's radio?"
Ken was still a little tipsy even after eating dinner at the mess hall, grinning goofily at Okada and whining for people to do things for him. "Yeeeep," he said.
"Man, next time I'm volunteering for beacon duty," Nagase grumbled from Okada's other side. Go, half-stumbling against Nagase, snorted.
"It wasn't that much fun," he said, "your Leader kept stealing all the whiskey!"
"That's Leader for you," Nagase said, sadly. Okada laughed, and as the four of them exited the mess hall Nagase caught sight of the pair everyone had taken to calling the Kinki Kids. "KO-CHAN~" Nagase trilled, and slapped both Okada and Go on the back before he skipped off.
"...so do you think he knows we cut the ass out of his pants yet?" Ken asked, yawning.
"Even if he does, do you think he cares?" Go countered, "it is Nagase."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
"Well, even if Nagase doesn't care, I guess Matsuoka-kun does, huh?" Okada asked, and both Go and Ken turned to stare at him.
"Get off me, Inohara, I need to beat them up--"
"Guess we better go plan our next move," Okada mused, "come on, then."
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (V6, TOKIO, mentions of KinKi Kids and Arashi)
Characters: Most prominently Okada, Nagase, Matsuoka and Inohara, but all of V6 and TOKIO make appearances
Pairings: Okada/Ken and Taichi/Joshima, but in the background
Word Count: ~4400
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, violence, alien invasion sci-fi apocalypse shit, sexual innuendo
Summary: V6 and TOKIO are friendly competitors in the battle for survival against the enemy called only as the Swarm. When three of their members are isolated, they team up to deliver a world of hurt.
Notes: written for ulchick418 during senpai_exchange.
"So apparently, last night TOKIO decided to go a little 'out of their way' and cleared every Swarmer out of our district," Inohara reported, going through the mail, "and they left us this." He held up a notepad, the middle of which starred a scribbled version of the five TOKIO members standing victorious over the comically tiny V6 team.
"Those assholes," Sakamoto groaned, leaning forward over the top of Nagano's work table and letting his forehead hit the top of the sturdy metal table, "can't they steal fun from those brats Arashi or something instead?"
"Taichi-kun wanted to give Leader a birthday present," Nagano murmured, up to his elbows in the guts of the flying gunship, "Go, can you hand me the wrench?
"What do I get out of it?" Go called back, rolling over and grinning down at them all from the garage catwalk. He caught Sakamoto's eye, and apparently Sakamoto still had it, because it made Go sit up and root through the toolbox.
"Got it," Go said, but Go being Go the next words out of his mouth were, "look out below~" as he tossed it toward the metal drum full of trashed parts next to Nagano's work station. Both Nagano and Sakamoto shrieked, wincing, and both Go and Inohara's laughter echoed through the garage's high ceilings.
"Laugh it up," Sakamoto grumbled, "you two can do duty at the old folk's home."
"Oh, but you have so many kindred spirits there, Sakamoto-kun!" Ken and Okada were finally in from midnight turret duty, apparently. Ken grinned at them all, looking disheveled, exhausted and somehow still chipper.
"Where's Okada?" Sakamoto asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"Special Forces needed him for oxygen training," Ken answered, waving his hand dismissively, "did I get any mail?"
"Spam," Inohara reported, "unless this postcard about 'growing your Johnny' is for real?"
"Yeah, it's legit," Ken answered, "I ordered it for you!"
The Johnny Super Soldier Program (JSSP) was established in New Era 13, after the attack of the Swarm--tall, hissing creatures with arms like blades and teeth like saws--decimated more than half of the world's population. The majority of the Earth's population retreated into major metropolitan areas, which were then covered with kinetic barriers simply called 'domes', and work on a counterattack began. Sakamoto remembered the establishment of the program, and volunteering. Fighting the Swarm as a simple soldier had left him without use of his legs, damage which had been prepared by the so-called Johnny Process, and by the end of it he was more than willing to use his super-powered new body to fight the aliens that had taken away his family. They'd all suffered, losing limbs (Ken's entire right arm was new) or senses (Okada had been blinded by Swarmer acid) or suffering catastrophic internal damage that left them little to lose (like Nagano, who'd had most of his upper chest replaced as emergency treatment). Sakamoto had been given command of their rag-tag bunch and ordered to turn them into a Special Forces Unit the world would be jealous of. It had taken a few more lost limbs and a whole lot of bullets, but they were the best infiltration unit in the entire JSSP. V6 were popularly known as the best of both worlds--the experience of Sakamoto, Nagano, and Inohara lent them a whole layer of survival instincts the relative newbies couldn't match, but the youth of Go, Ken, and Okada kept them limber and energetic. Their only competition when it came to sheer destructive power was the mobile tank unit, TOKIO.
TOKIO was an anomaly even among the other "Johnnys". They were super-soldiers, of course, like the rest of them, but the added artillery of their beloved tank, Kojima, made them legendary. Well, the tank and their penchant for blowing up entire city blocks by accident, anyway. The members of TOKIO and V6 had gone through training together, and they were all great friends, but the generally friendly rivalry between their groups often took a competitive turn that caused 'excitement', as General Higashiyama tended to put it. That meant TOKIO and V6 were usually put on opposite ends of the city when time came to draw up the duty roster, unless there was a Swarm invasion that needed to be violently blown up.
"HEY GUYS!"
"Nagase-kun," Sakamoto said, lifting his hands to his ears, "what do we owe this particular visit to?"
"I stole the figurine on your gunship, so I have to give it back and apologize," Nagase said, so dully it had to be an instruction from his Leader. Sakamoto sighed.
"That's the fourth time this month," he commented.
"Yeah, well, the idiot trio stole the hubcap off Kojima-chan," Nagase answered, puffing up and looking annoyed, "on inspection day so I got latrine duty. Assholes!" Go and Ken's laughter could be heard echoing from the catwalk, and Nagase flicked them off without missing a beat. "Make them give it back," Nagase demanded.
Sakamoto rubbed at his temples. "Not what I need today," he said, loudly, "give it back. And if you throw it off of the catwalk again I'm going to have you running boot camp for a month."
The ensuing whining ensured TOKIO would have their errant hubcap back by nightfall--though not in its previous pristine condition. Joshima's wailing about the various curse words and uncomplimentary things about Nagase's mother scribbled across the front could be heard throughout nearly the whole city.
Sakamoto shook his head, pulling his lips in to hide his laughter when Go, Ken and Okada began high-fiving each other and the rest of the members of V6 with enthusiasm. To be honest, he'd thought the bit about the goat had been particularly clever.
"Duty up," Inohara barked with sunrise, passing out crisp white paper, each signed by General Higashi in a wide imperial scrawl.
Okada watched the others brush sleep from their eyes. When they had first replaced his ruined eyes with robotics, he'd done much the same as they were out of habit, but as he'd gotten used to his superior eyes he'd stopped bothering pretending he was totally human, much the same way Inohara no longer needed to do strength workouts, every muscle in his body strengthened by synthetic fibers and giving him super-human strength even beyond the improvements they'd all received. Okada looked down at his copy of the roster, distracted.
"They put TOKIO in District 5," he said, "weren't they banned from District 5?"
"We were banned from District 12 and we're there first," Ken answered, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder against him and pointing at where it said 'V6 - Patrol' on the rotation. Okada hummed agreement, tilting his head against Ken's for a long moment as they read over the list.
"Ah, we have the rest of the day off," Okada noticed, belatedly. He turned toward Ken (and, next to him, Go) and grinned.
"Keep it PG this time," Sakamoto called after them, as they barreled out of the V6 dormitory.
All three of them laughed when they heard Inohara's 'fat chance of that' echoing behind them in the hallway.
"I'm just saying, they could have mentioned that they thought there was a Swarm attack coming," Ken said, as he re-loaded his rifle. Okada grunted, leaning around cover and narrowing his eyes, engaging the zoom function. Go was messing with their malfunctioning emergency beacon, cursing as he tried to repair the damage done by a grenade.
"We have thirteen or so coming around the block," he called back, "where's the gunship?"
His radio implant crackled to life at his temple just then. "She's on her way!"
Sakamoto appeared between them then. "Go, how's the emergency beacon coming?"
"It's, uh, it's not," Go said, looking back over his shoulder and shaking his head.
Sakamoto looked roughly like he wanted to throttle someone--"all right," he said, finally, "Go, Ken, where's the closest tethered emergency beacon?"
Ken ducked behind the wall, letting Okada take his place firing at the approaching aliens, and flicked open his radar. "The beacon on the border of the district is two blocks west and three north," he said, "the District 12 beacon is eighteen blocks east and--" he stopped when Sakamoto lifted a hand.
"Get to the border beacon," Sakamoto ordered, "go. Inohara, Nagano, hurry. Okada, we need to fall back to the apartment complex and wait for the gunship--"he leaned out to empty his rifle at the approaching Swarmers, then leaned back in--"and act as a distraction. Duty up."
Ken leaned around Sakamoto to give Okada one last grin and a thumbs up. "Duty up, Okada-kun," he called over his shoulder, and smacked Go on the back with his robotic arm, "we'll see you at home, boys!"
"What do you mean we can't go back?!" "Leader's still out there! He's immortal, he can't die!" "General, please, just let us go..."
Sakamoto ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. "I guess we're not the only ones looking to head back out into District 12," he said, and crossed the hallway to tap the keypad. Higashiyama's door slid open, and both Higashiyama and the members of TOKIO turned their heads to stare at him.
"Sir," Sakamoto said, "V6 is heading back out. Go-kun and Ken-kun are still out there."
"I can't in good conscience send you back out there, we don't know if they're even alive," Higashiyama answered, rubbing at his temples, "it's not that I don't want to save them, but if there's nothing to save and any of you get hurt in the process..."
"That's a risk we're going to have to take, sir," Sakamoto answered, "my subordinates are out there. And we are going to save them."
Higashiyama sighed. "Team up, then," he said, pointing vaguely at the four remaining members of TOKIO, "don't blow up the whole damn city, you hear me?"
"We're splitting up," Sakamoto said, hands on his hips, "one to one. Unless the fine gentlemen of TOKIO had some other plan?"
Taichi looked around at the others, and they took a moment to whisper back and forth. After a moment of whispered arguing, they burst into a sudden rock-paper-scissors tournament, and when Nagase emerged victorious over Taichi, Taichi turned back toward V6.
"We're up for it," he said, "...and Nagase gets Okada."
Nagase grinned over Taichi's head, hopping off the back of the tank and immediately throwing his forearm atop Okada's head. "Yo," he said, and laughed when Okada shoved his arm off of his head.
"Then Inohara will go with..."
"Mabo," Inocchi chirped, and his wide grin was so enthsiastic Sakamoto had to really remind himself that the last time those two were paired up they had destroyed an entire glass production company.
"And that means I get Nagano-kun," Yamaguchi boomed, suddenly, "have fun with Sakamoto-kun, Taichi."
Sakamoto whimpered.
"Well, then, Sakamoto-kun," Taichi called, "you get to drive the tank!"
"That's what I was afraid you were going to say," Sakamoto grumbled, glaring after Yamaguchi and Nagano (and even Matsuoka and Inohara, who were now involved in a healthy elbowing contest--at least they hadn't graduated to actual bullets yet).
"So, Okada," Nagase called out across the street, apparently forgetting once again that he even had a radio, "is Ken even putting out yet?" He cursed when his gun ran out of bullets and tossed the strap of the rifle over his shoulder, fumbling around for once of his many other guns. Nagase had always, even in training, been useless with reloading guns, so as soon as he'd graduated training he'd taken to carrying a multitude of them instead. Okada had taken a position in a broken-down pickup truck, his sniper rifle set up over the hood as he glared at his radar, looking for the tell-tale blip of one of his teammates. Nagase had taken up position behind some rubble, and was now in the midst of trying to wrestle his shotgun off of his back.
"Why are you so interested in everyone else's sex lives?" Okada asked over the radio, before he relaxed his shoulders and fired a single shot, which echoed through the heads of three Swarmers in a row--not bad, he figured.
"'cause I like to know my friends are getting laid," Nagase called back, before managing to pull the pin on a grenade. He tossed it, abruptly, toward the herd of aliens now rushing headlong down the street. Okada often had his doubts about the standing plan to defend the city--isolate the aliens in one District, close it off, and kill them all--but he did know one thing. These things were even dumber than Nagase, and it showed when half of the front-runners exploded from barreling right over the grenade. Damn things didn't even think about using splitting up into pairs or trios, which would have made them deadly long before this.
"I'm not telling you anything after that time you told everyone Go had finally lost his virginity. We should move up," Okada mused.
"What, so he isn't putting out?" Nagase seemed legitimately flabbergasted.
Okada leveled a glare at the back of Nagase's big stupid head. "That's not what I said," he answered.
"Oh. Oooooh. You're not putting out?!" It figured the only time Nagase remembered how to use the all-company radio channel was when he was saying shit like that.
"Sometimes," Okada began, "I wonder if they removed part of your brain when they added that metal plate to your skull."
"...fuck you! Oi--let's go over a block and head toward the beacon!" Nagase shouted, "I think I've got a reading on Leader!"
Okada hooked his sniper rifle on his back and reached for the assault rifle strapped to the small of his back, setting his shoulders as he popped up on the balls of his feet. He fired a series of small bursts--five down, a pause, three more--and when there were enough piled up bodies to stop the Swarm for a moment, he hopped over the side of the truck and sprinted to meet Nagase at the corner.
"Shall we?" Nagase asked, "you take point, I'll take care of these boys following us." He had finally gotten his grenade launcher ready, and his grin was wide.
"All right," Okada said, looking at the launcher warily, "don't back it up and blow off your arms again. How many times have you had them replaced?"
"Eh, two or three, 's no big deal," Nagase practically sang, and Okada rolled his eyes as he started the long walk down the block. Behind him he could hear Nagase hooting and hollering, and figured at least someone was having fun. Go and Ken had been two thirds of him for years, now, a trio of guys light on foot and easy to work with. They'd become a team, a new kind of death-dealing machine, talented in three different ways. Ken was top of the class in close combat, even now, ten years after graduation, and Go had a way with electronics that made him invaluable. As for Okada, well, Okada had spent four years studying cybernetics, and while he was certainly more than his augmentations, the implants made a great soldier even better. Especially when it came to sniping--Okada was at peace in his own mind, at peace in this body, and he could wait, more patiently than nearly anybody he had ever met. Go and Ken being missing was like having half of his hands gone. Sure, he could work, but it wasn't anything like full strength. Having Nagase around instead probably gave him back one hand, though--Okada and Nagase had spent a couple of months in the field together as teenagers fresh out of training camp, and they'd found themselves patching together a rough kind of informal partnership. Nagase was kind of an idiot, but he was adaptable and creative, and Okada liked that in a fellow soldier. Nagase would always have your back--somehow.
He heard Nagase call 'grenade out!', then the short 'boom' of Nagase launching an explosive, and Okada ducked his head down, settling his feet flat on the ground and bending his knees a bit. The ensuing explosion rocked the rubble and cars around Okada, but he was able to stand up and continue nearly immediately. Working with Nagase again was like riding a bike--they were on-and-off partners every few years, the golden boys of their era and a mighty example of the power of the Johnny's Program--and Okada would never forget how to pedal this one.
"So which way?" Okada called over the radio.
"One more block and then turn left!" Nagase's voice echoed from farther back. Okada laughed, shaking his head, and broke into a jog. As he turned the corner, he slowed, his hackles up, and froze. He leaned his head forward, peering around the corner--five Swarmers. Okada eyed the ground across the street and leaped out into the open. He'd taken down two by the time they realized he was there, and he backed up as the other three began their loping approach. One fell with six bullets lodged in his chest, and then another, but by the time Okada looked around for the third it had disappeared. Okada turned on his heel, gun tight within his fingers as he peered around.
He heard the thing's wheezy breathing before anything else, and ducked the swing of its arm blade instinctively. He threw his weight forward on his right foot, and whirled on his foot, launching himself shoulder-first at the damn thing. Get them away from you. That was what Ken had said, right when he'd first been recruited, green and new and from completely out in the boondocks, getting used to new eyes and useless. Ken had been a grinning hellion then, out-stepping their instructors and out-thinking their classmates. His advice worked well now, as the Swarmer stumbled back from colliding with Okada's heavy mass, and Okada was able to swing his rifle up to pump the damn thing full of bullets. He wiped yellow alien blood from his face and straightened, fist up.
"Nagase, hurry the hell up," he called. He heard Nagase thumping his way through a jog around the corner. When Nagase finally pulled up to a stop when he was nearly atop Okada, his big arm tossing itself about Okada's shoulder as they looked down the street to the next block--which looked roughly like a slaughterhouse.
"Can they go five minutes without getting into some killing competition?" Nagase asked, as they watched Matsuoka and Inohara bicker their way down the block.
"Question for the ages," Okada answered, narrowing his eyes, "I have the tank on radar. They're still moving."
"Ahhh, Taichi's all pissed because he couldn't have his usual post-mission fuck with Leader earlier, good luck to Sakamoto-kun," Nagase mused aloud, "you see the gunship anywhere?"
"No," Okada answered, "though that might be because your arm is in front of my face."
Nagase chuckled, pulling back. "Whoops," he said, "guess we better get in there?"
"Ladies first," Okada said, before he could help himself, and laughed aloud when Nagase finally comprehended the joke and, as a result, tripped over himself.
"I hate you," Nagase grumbled, and Okada smacked Nagase's shoulder with some good cheer.
"Hey! MABO!" Nagase refused to use his radio no matter how strategic it would be to do otherwise, Okada noted, wincing from a suddenly ringing eardrum.
Matsuoka glanced back momentarily, nodding hello before he turned back toward the turret at his hip. "Nagase," he said, as they got closer, "take this guy and put him on top of the dumpster. Take this--"he slapped a small block of C4 into Nagase's hand--"and put it underneath the thing. Duty up, douchebag."
"Yes your Highness, of course your Highness," Nagase grumbled under his breath, and hefted both turret and explosives in his hands. Then he was off, and Okada looked up at Matsuoka.
"Need me for anything?" Okada asked, scratching the back of his head.
"No, we're falling back," Matsuoka answered, "meeting up with the tank and taking the ground route in--Gussan and Nagano-kun got ahold of us on the other channel, they found our Leader and your better thirds, but the gunship's pinned down. Time to do some exterminating, eh? Oi, Inocchi, get down from the roof!"
"You two work together a lot better than you pretend to," Okada mused.
Matsuoka looked at him, grinning widely. "Hey, you get used to people eventually," he said, shrugged, "Inohara's still a massive moron--"Inohara threw a shingle from the roof at him--"but he's a not-totally-useless moron."
"Your vote of confidence is inspiring," Inohara called, as he hooked a grapple on the roof and began his rappel toward the ground, "and really, you're a moron too! A moron obsessed with beer!"
"I'm from TOKIO, beer is our lifeblood," Matsuoka said, defensively.
"And nudity is our uniform," Inohara parroted back.
Matsuoka offered him a friendly thumbs up. "You're like a regular TOKIO guy already," he said, fondly, "I always knew you were jealous--stop fucking throwing shingles at me!"
"Yeah, you'd know all about shingles," Inohara called, and laughed at the pleasant middle finger Matsuoka offered him before he gathered up all of the remote detonators attached to the C4 he'd no doubt attached to every flammable surface on the block.
Inohara dropped down the last five or six feet, offering a wide grin at Okada. "We better catch up," he said, "or he'll forget where we're going."
"I heard that!" Matsuoka called back.
The four of them regrouped around the corner, ducking into a side street as Matsuoka fiddled with his radio. "You're around the corner?" Matsuoka repeated for the rest of them, "you'll meet us at the corner with the door wide open. Got it."
"Duty up, people," Inohara said, briskly, "let's get to it."
"Who the hell gave you a license?" Matsuoka bellowed as the lot of them pushed at the bumped of the tank.
"No one," Inohara said, laughter wracking his body, "he doesn't have one!"
"And we let him drive Kojima-chan?!" Nagase yelped, putting his shoulder into it and pushing, the massive strength of the implants in his arms and chest making it easy enough to push the tank forward out of the wreckage of the now-ruined apartment building and back out onto the street, "let me drive!"
"Not just no," Matsuoka snapped, "but hell no. That's my spot, Nagase, cut it out--" the two of them shoved at each other uselessly as Inohara ducked into the back of the tank and slid into the driver's seat Sakamoto had vacated. Okada took one look at them, shaking his head, and crawled up the side to join Taichi at the mounted gun, cradling his sniper rifle close and his head moving, hawk-like, toward any suddent movements.
"Thanks, guys, I always wanted to drive a tank!" Inohara enthused, and that sent both Okada and Taichi into a round of laughter that had both Matsuoka and Nagase fuming.
"Hop in or I'm leaving you behind, boys!"
That was enough to get them both in gear, though they sulked the whole way toward the beacon.
"Now approaching the rendezvous point," Inohara called back, in his best air stewardess imitation, "please be ready to exit the vehicle and murder every villainous alien in sight!"
They turned the corner. Inohara put on the brakes, slamming the tank to a stop. "That's a lot more than we thought," he said, lightly.
"More aliens just means more bullets," Sakamoto answered, "or, at least, that's what I tell the kids at boot."
Matsuoka was already pulling and twisting wires and reaching for detonator signals, his mind clearly elsewhere.
?
"Nagase, what are you..."
Nagase had turned on the bench behind the cockpit, pulling open the overhead, and he looked back from swapping out assault rifles. "'s easier to just grab new weapons," he said.
"He means he's too dumb to keep track of ammo," Matsuoka reported for him, and ducked the swing of Nagase's elbow.
Abruptly, the back hatch of the tank opened up, and an irritated-looking Taichi glared at them all. "Can we get this paryt started, ladies?" he asked, pointedly, "I wanna go home."
"He means his dick misses Leader," Nagase said, distracted, and hauled a wicked-looking rocket launcher out of the overhead. He inspected it momentarily. "We have any rockets for this?" he asked Matsuoka.
"Under the navigator seat," Matsuoka reported, nodding toward Sakamoto's seat.
"Gimme my rockets!" Nagase sang, and Sakamoto's face changed to one of abject horror when Nagase dove over the top of the chair, his upper between his legs, looking for the rockets.
"Hey, guys? A little help here?" Yamaguchi's voice buzzing over the radio was scratchy and a bit irritated, and it had Inohara scrambling to mess with the frequency on the tank receiver.
"You guys still alive?" Nagase asked. From his position upside down between Sakamoto's legs, the sound should have been muted, but somehow Nagase managed to yell so loud the whole tank echoed.
"We're fine!" Nagano sounded fairly cheery, for the circumstances, "Go-kun and Ken-kun have rigged up an explosive, and Yamaguchi-kun helped me repair the gunship enough to airlift all five of us out of here. We need you to clear out some of these guys so the five of us can meet up. Joshima-kun is with Go and Ken near the beacon. Yamaguchi-kun and I are about twenty meters ahead of you--Yamaguchi-kun is on top of the gunship!"
"Ah, I see him," Okada called down.
"All right," Sakamoto said, "Mabo, Nagase, Taichi, go toward Go and Ken and Leader. Okada, Inohara, you're with me. Let's go rescue our gunship. Duty up, gentlemen."
Matsuoka and Nagase shared a glance before hopping out of the tank, following a roaring Taichi and his double-barreled shotgun. Inohara reached once more for the controls, pointing the tank toward the crowding aliens around the gunship. As they drove closer he could see Yamaguchi firing at them from the roof of the gun-loaded helicopter and Nagano firing the mounted machine gun out the side door. "Okada," Sakamoto called, "get ready to fire."
"Aye, sir."
"Three... two... one!"
"So, what, the three of you just holed up in liquor store and did shots between turns on the beacon's radio?"
Ken was still a little tipsy even after eating dinner at the mess hall, grinning goofily at Okada and whining for people to do things for him. "Yeeeep," he said.
"Man, next time I'm volunteering for beacon duty," Nagase grumbled from Okada's other side. Go, half-stumbling against Nagase, snorted.
"It wasn't that much fun," he said, "your Leader kept stealing all the whiskey!"
"That's Leader for you," Nagase said, sadly. Okada laughed, and as the four of them exited the mess hall Nagase caught sight of the pair everyone had taken to calling the Kinki Kids. "KO-CHAN~" Nagase trilled, and slapped both Okada and Go on the back before he skipped off.
"...so do you think he knows we cut the ass out of his pants yet?" Ken asked, yawning.
"Even if he does, do you think he cares?" Go countered, "it is Nagase."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
"Well, even if Nagase doesn't care, I guess Matsuoka-kun does, huh?" Okada asked, and both Go and Ken turned to stare at him.
"Get off me, Inohara, I need to beat them up--"
"Guess we better go plan our next move," Okada mused, "come on, then."