mission report for track_04 (part 1 of 2)

[capn_planet]

Mission report for track_04
Delivered by: digitalized_

Title: Days of Cadet Grey (1/2)
Groups/Pairings: Kanjani8, NEWS, bits of KinKi Kids and others.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mixing fantasy with sci-fi. One crappy drawing.
Summary: This should have been their world, but they brought conflict with them. Life goes on after that.
Notes: Thanks to K-san for the last minute beta ? Remaining mistakes are all mine. I tried going for quantity instead of quality at first, but when that didn't work and I was clearly out of time, I decided to forgo that too and try finishing most of the story I had in mind. I didn't have time to think the details through, so please try to ignore any shoddy plotlines. And I do apologize if everyone sounds like the same character. I hope there are at least some elements you might find enjoyable, track_04!


--

The only difference between the meeting room and any other room in the base is the amount of chairs. Ryo arrives to the meeting second-to-last, plopping himself onto the chair nearest his usual corner. The room, barely large enough to accommodate the six now in it, is already buzzing with idle chatter.

"I heard they reinvented guns," Ryo says to no one in particular.

Yoko glances at Ryo, then quickly loses interest and turns away to continue his conversation with Subaru. Yasu doesn't even bother looking up, sitting in another corner of the room arguing with a piece of metal again, probably deep in debate with the piece of rock on why it contains more magnesium and not enough iron. This leaves only Maru and Hina to pay Ryo any attention.

"Any reason that's of any importance?" Hina asks, circling something in his notebook at the same time.

Ryo huffs. Hina, being indestructible, simply doesn't understand the pain of lesser mortals. Literally. The lucky bastard's never felt pain while Ryo's sole existence is to to deal with physical pain. Once, to see if he could knock Hina down, Ryo tried to move his wounds onto Hina, and the pain rebounded. Everything bounces off Hina.

"While they're reinventing weapons," Ryo says, "we're working our asses off just to feed ourselves."

Ryo's practically a veteran in the field, and he still has to venture outside their base three times a month to search for anything that hints at being edible. The recycling system in their base has long since gone corrupt, meaning unless there are spare rations from the main ship, they have to rely on any food they can gather in the wild. Ryo hears there are still species brought from Earth that are alive on the ship--it's been years since he's gone back onto the Emblem, and he doesn't remember what food from Earth tastes like any more. He doesn't remember what his mom's cooking tastes like.

"So far, we can react fast enough for any sort of assault they deal out," Hina points out. "And they had guns already, didn't they? They just didn't know how to make new ones until now."

That seems to catch Subaru's attention. Or maybe whatever he was talking with Yoko about turned out to be less interesting than the topic Ryo initiated.

"There's too many of them," Subaru says. "Guns and bombs are simple enough, but if they start making missiles, they could take us out with one hit."

"Not if they're made of metal," Yasu says, looking up from his perch.

"What if they're not?" Ryo retorts, irritated. "We might have all these abilities they don't have, but they're not stupid. We've never even had a proper education. They'll learn and advance, and soon they'll take us all out just like they planned. So what if we live for the first hundred years? Don't you want to live past that?"

"We can't reproduce," Yoko says, joining in the conversation with Subaru. "We're a dead community, and no one knows how long we can live. Does it truly matter?"

"Do you want to die, then?"

Yoko pinches his mouth into a line, and Ryo knows he's won at this part of the discussion. None of them wants to die, that's why they're still here, why they're fighting to survive another day.

The door opens, and Ohkura finally shows up, casually walking in like he's not the last person to arrive. Ryo's about to chide Ohkura for being late when he feels the dull ache coming from Ohkura, a silent throb against Ryo's senses. Of course the idiot's wounds haven't healed, if he's not smart enough to avoid getting hurt in the first place. Ryo turns towards the rest of the room.

"Now that Ohkura's here, what's on the agenda today?" Ryo asks Hina. Weapon talk would have to wait another day.

"The Northern lookout requested reinforcements," Hina says, tapping his pencil listlessly. "We're to send in three people, no more, no less. Duration estimated to be three months, maybe more."

Ohkura yawns. The others take the information in.

"Who wants to go?" Yoko asks when no one opts speaks.

"We're doing this by volunteering now?" Subaru says, earning a small chuckle from Maru. Ryo doesn't find it funny, but if he says so, the others would think he's just being disagreeable because they didn't take his opinion into account earlier. Three seconds later, he says it anyway.

"We could scissor-paper-stone our way to a conclusion, if you guys want," Yoko says.

"Ryo, don't you have friends at the Northern lookout?" Hina says, looking at him expectantly.

Ryo rolls his eyes. Predictable. "Yeah, fine. I'll go."

Yoko follows with a loud sigh, obviously garnering attention. Ryo fixes a glare towards Yoko, who deftly ignores any disapproval and absorbs the attention anyway. Sometimes, Ryo laments how they know each other too well to get under one another's skins. They pretty much live in each other's skins, by this point. Maybe it is a good idea to get away for a while.

"I'll go too," Yoko says, forcefully sighing at the end again. "It's boring around here. And Ryo, stop being pointlessly grumpy, it's biting at my nerves. Negative emotions are just so unhealthy."

"Don't you dare temper my emotions," Ryo warns. It's common courtesy that they never use their abilities against each other without consent, but sometimes Ryo thinks Yoko might accidentally forget what courtesy means. Especially if Yoko continues to laugh in that annoyingly high-pitched giggle-like way. Ryo's going to have to put up with this for three months, without the others around to restrain Yoko. He wonders if it's too late to suggest they draw lots instead.

"No one else?" Hina asks.

Everyone exchanges looks, including Hina, and they must all be debating whether to volunteer. Staying at the lookout means a change of scenery, but it also means surveillance duty, and the trip there won't be easy. Even at top speed, it would be a three day journey.

A surprising voice speaks up. "I'll go," Subaru says nonchalantly, ignoring the looks the other six are giving him.

Most of the time, it's hard to tell if Subaru's paying attention in meetings. Subaru always has an indifferent look on him, like he doesn't care what decisions are made, like the results of these meetings don't concern him. He probably would have said yes if anyone asked him to go, but for Subaru to volunteer, there's definitely something different going on in the guy's mind. But even with six pair of curious eyes on him, Subaru's already clamped down once more, looking almost bored.

Hina coughs. "That's settled, then," he says, writing into his notebook. "We'll have to reschedule our duties at base, so the ones that aren't going should go over that. As for you three, Yoko should have the details already, just ask him."

So Yoko intended to go in the first place, the sly bastard. Compared to Subaru, it's not really unexpected. Ryo scoots towards the two, eyes fixing on Subaru and Yoko as everyone in the room shift into two groups. He doesn't remember ever grouping up with the other two before, except for short discussions with Yoko that generally lead to frustration.

Yet it doesn't take thought for Ryo to trust them with his life, even if he might not trust them to hand him a cup of unadulterated water.

--

It all began when the abandoned spacecraft crashed onto Earth. The exterior design of the spacecraft was the exact copy of a common meteorite, and no being on Earth suspected anything unusual of the falling rock until its hull held as it went through Earth's atmosphere like no meteorite should. It crashed into the place Earthlings know as Japan.

The first to investigate were soldiers, soon followed by scientists. While it already made a strong impression by making it to Earth without a scratch on its surface, the insides startled the world even more, for even without a pilot, the ship was obviously foreign. Alien.

Scientists rejoiced. There were no written records, at least none that humans could identify, but the ship design itself was enough to provoke revolutionary discoveries. Humans started by imitating the ship, copying engine designs and any device they could determine the use for. Within years, humans gained the knowledge of near light-speed travel and the ability to venture on in space without exhausting energy. It didn't stop there. The entire world was intrigued by the continued study of the spaceship, and aside from building spaceships far beyond what was possible just a few years before, they soon found what could almost be signs of the original owners of the ship.

Exactly seven years after the ship arrived on Earth, the five years old son of the first person to touch the ship began moving objects without touching them. He was studied, but doctors did not think to link this with the spacecraft until the head scientist's son burned down his own crib without a scar on his body. They were the first ones of us.

This went beyond human logic. It sounded like magic instead of cold, hard science. Humans tried genetics, first--whatever caused this mutation, it didn't show up in the genetic sampling methods humans used. But it was clear that something was causing this change, for the second sons of the same fathers turned out the same. And mothers. Anyone who had directly touched the abandoned spacecraft and reproduced had children that could do things no human should be able to do. Many people came in contact with the spacecraft--there were nearly a hundred of us already, even in that first decade.

These otherworldly abilities caused no immediate harm. The children were studied closely and had to be separated from other children, but they were otherwise fairly normal. Perhaps this is a gift from space? Some people thought this a possible evolution trend. Some day, perhaps it would spread to entire human population. It was unusual, but, like the superpowered humans in comics, it could be that they could live amongst normal humans. Others thought the children, the parents and the spacecraft should be isolated from the rest of the world to avoid contaminating the rest of Earth's population.

But no action was taken until it was discovered that these children--the earliest few adult by then--were infertile. Sexual functions remained, albeit less active, but the gametes from the mutants could not form fertilized embryos.

This caused an uproar on Earth. The first reason was fear--now, if this was to spread, it would cause extinction. And then there was repulsion. Species are often defined by groups of animals capable of interbreeding. If they could not reproduce with humans, these mutated beings could be considered humans no longer. If they could not reproduce at all, then all for the better.

The abandoned spacecraft that caused all this was soon put in quarantine. Anyone who ever touched it was banned from having children, leading to forced abortions, but by then there are already one hundred and sixty three of us.

We were always afraid. Our parents tried to protect us, and some of us had powerful parents, but most of them were soldiers and scientists. It had been deemed safe to touch us, for the condition doesn't spread from our bodies, but people still feared us for our abilities. The best of us can bring down a building just by one look, but if the entire Earth wanted us gone, where could we go? And we were always kept in isolation. Escape was possible, easy even, but our faces and names were common knowledge and eventually no one tried to leave.

Finally, an answer came sixty years later. Humans found a planet that housed life of its own--none intellectual, that was important too. And humans were ready to try migration. They had the technology for reefersleep, so that living humans could be kept in storage for the hundred year flight to arrive at the star they knew as Epsilon Aequor. But they needed pilots.

That was where we came in. Much to the annoyance of humans, odd powers weren't the only difference in us--we moved faster, we healed faster, and we aged slower. In all aspects except one, we were considered better, and that made us even easier to hate. By then, we weren't part of the human race anymore, so what better way to rid the Earth of these abominations than by throwing them back into space? After all, that was where we came from. And since our biological clock slows down even more as we age, leading to possibly triple the length of a normal lifetime, we're exactly the ideal beings to lead this hundred year voyage to another planet that promised life. They didn't even need all of us at once. If we rotated, each of us would only have to spend twenty years on a spaceship.

More importantly, though, we were promised people who would trust us, who would view us as people. We would be a new sort of community, one that accepted differences such as ours, one that welcomes changes with alien sources. And we believed. One hundred and sixty three of us, four thousand frozen passengers. Most of our parents were dead by then, so we didn't have any relatives. No strings to attach us to Earth anymore. We took a vote. All of us decided to go.

Then we boarded the Emblem.

-'Letters to Future Generations of Celestial City', Koyama Keiichiro

--

Light filters in from the holes in the walls. If Yoko cares to peek out, there would be a view of wilderness, open grassland with scattered trees that create a colorless savannah. And if he looks further, past the bleak plain, he would be able to take a glimpse of Celestial City.

The entire city is under one huge gravity dome. The gravity of this planet is slightly less than Earth's, and the decision to build this dome was made back on Earth. The differing gravity should not matter in the long run, not unless the citizens in the city are planning to return to Earth, but perhaps gravity isn't the reason they built the dome. That was the reason fed to the records, but maybe it was designed to keep out the mutants in the first place. It was unnecessary--nothing in the world could force Yoko to go near the dome.

The gravity on this planet feels natural. Yoko doesn't know if this is because they're adaptable, because they've been in space too long, or because their bodies were built for less than one G.

He looks at the guy named Kato Shigeaki, who's trying to hide his impatience.

"What can you guys do?" Kato says for the second time. "I read your profiles, but...I didn't get much out of them."

Yoko barely hides a sneer. He's seen those files. Hell, he wrote them, as did Ryo and Subaru. Kato was trying too hard to be polite--those files are, graciously put, indecipherable.

Ryo's file is illegible, written like something from the hands of a three year old first learning to write. Yoko's had everything from able to breathe, able to talk, able to move his limbs to able to make believe and able to make people smile. The latter two had more to do with his ability, but he found no reason to make it easy for people to know. Subaru's file consists of one sentence.

"Why are you-" Ryo manages to make this sound insulting, "-asking? Isn't Yamapi the commander of this place?"

"He put me in charge," Kato grits, reaching his limit.

Yoko pushes Kato's temper down, until it's bubbling just under the surface. His friends would disapprove if they knew, but they have no way of knowing, and Yoko won't be telling. Emotions are a two-way business--either he actively influences others, or let them affect him, and Yoko hates living with involuntary emotions.

Kato's looking at them expectantly, but Ryo's not budging, and Subaru's never going to be the first person to move. Yoko sighs inwardly and closes his eyes, raising a finger and focusing on the tip.

When he opens his eyes, Kato is staring at him, and the guy beside Kato--Masuda, maybe--appears to be taking several steps backwards. At the tip of Yoko's finger is an image of one of the spider-like creatures on this planet, a small creature with four legs on the ground and four legs in the air. It's actually quite tasty, even though most people refuse to try because it resembles spiders. So far, Yoko thinks he's the only person to pop one in his mouth when he finds any.

"Is that-what is, where did you...?" Masuda stammers, clutching tightly at the back of Kato's clothes.

Kato takes a look at the stack of papers he's holding, presumably looking at their profiles. "Able to make people see things?" Kato reads, then looks up at Yoko. "Is this what that means?"

Aw. Yoko had hoped maybe Kato would believe it for a second or two. "Yeah," he answers, "not much to it. A whole city is possible if I have enough time to think about it."

"So it's not real?" Masuda asks with a small voice.

"No," Kato says uncomfortably. "So can you let go now?"

"You can poke at it if you want," Yoko offers, moving the image towards Masuda. The guy lets go of Kato slowly, takes a quick look at Yoko, and jumps even further back until he hits the wall.

Yoko laughs, and doesn't provide anything else. It's not exactly a secret, but he doesn't like mentioning empathy. No one wants to know a person who can indirectly alter your thoughts without a trace, and nothing good comes out of being an empath. The most he ever got out of the ability was convincing a soldier from the opposing side that he wasn't the enemy for five minutes, just so he could escape. Yoko wouldn't hold it against Ryo or Subaru if they tell, but it's not information he's going to offer himself.

Neither Ryo nor Subaru passes him a glance. Likely they never expected Yoko to say anything regarding the subject.

"And you?" Kato asks Ryo. Yoko applauds Kato's courage--outsiders don't usually dare to approach Ryo when he's like that.

"You really want to know?" Ryo grins, reaching into his pocket. Seconds later, Ryo's toying with his pocket knife, pushing the blade in and out of the handle.

Kato glares. "Yes."

"Don't move," Ryo says, and before Kato could react, he launches forward.

Kato jolts backward, shielding his body with his arms while still holding the stack of files and making it painfully obvious that he's not a field agent. Behind him, Masuda surprises Yoko by taking a battle stance, the muscles on his legs readying a pounce. Yoko finds himself tensing, and decides that if Ryo hurts someone, he's not taking any responsibility just because Ryo's lost his mind.

Ryo backs up the moment his blade lightly brushes against Kato's arm. He ends up standing a meter away from Kato, who's staring with wide eyes. Kato glances towards the faint line of red appearing on his arm and winces, and Yoko almost feels sorry for the guy.

"The hell was that for?" Kato shouts, clutching his arm.

Ryo smiles dangerously, walking towards Kato once more. Kato attempts to hold Ryo off with his expression, but this time Ryo reaches out with only his hand, taking it back after he touches Kato's left sleeve. "A demonstration," Ryo says. "Look again."

Kato looks at his arm again and this time, he can't see the wound. Ryo holds out his arm, a new slit identical to the one on Kato's arm now visible.

"That's what you do?" Kato asks, bewildered. Ryo shrugs, and Kato frowns. "You're crazy. I should report this."

"To whom?" Ryo asks laughingly. The sense of defeat comes in waves from where Kato stands.

"If that wound gets infected, you deserve it," Kato says. He looks at Subaru, and Yoko realizes that as scared of Ryo as Kato is, he's completely terrified of Subaru. The fingers on Kato's spare hand twitches nervously. "And you? I don't need a demonstration. No...no knives necessary."

"I pass through things," Subaru says. The same sentence he wrote for his profile.

"Could you elaborate?"

Subaru's ability is to ignore the outer world, thus enabling him to go through anything he chooses. Mostly that means passing through walls, but it also extends to liquid and heat and anything else Subaru doesn't like at the time. Yoko thinks Subaru shuts down voices during boring meetings as well.

"Does it matter?" Subaru retorts. "Weak teamwork is worse than going solo. Ryo might be able to team up with Yamashita, but we don't know you. We're not going to work together."

"Fine," Kato says. Yoko senses an equal amount of irateness and relief. "Scouting mission to that new camp, you and Yokoyama-kun. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Subaru says before Yoko could protest.

There's a new camp built at the outskirts of the City, three miles away from the dome wall and facing the lookout tower. It's likely just another surveillance point, but someone needs to go and confirm it. Yoko nods his agreement; there's nothing better to do, and although he's not into the idea of making new friends, they did come here to help.

Kato walks away, Masuda trailing behind him. Ryo says he's going to take a nap and goes off towards the lounge, leaving Subaru and Yoko alone in the corridor.

"I'm making a wire-call to home," Yoko says. "Want to come?"

For the past month, he's saved nearly all his electricity ration for this call. This means not using the lighting system and not accessing his logs, though he's written some things down using the morning light. Sunlight never reaches the base he calls home, and it's amazing how much he doesn't realize he misses natural light till it's there. It's comforting to know that he misses home even more.

Subaru nods. "You've saved up too, right? That's nearly twenty minutes in total, and I don't really have anything I want to say."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Yoko says. "Come on."

They make their way to the wire room, on the fifth floor of the tower, one floor beneath the top. Exactly five wires hang out from the window, one for each base and one linking to the main ship. The only place they aren't connected to is the Southern lookout, because it would take going around the dome to reach, and too much effort to maintain.

Yoko checks the electricity supply, makes sure the current amount going through the lookout is enough to sustain his call, and links himself onto the system. Five minutes later, Maru's voice comes out fuzzily from the speakers.

"Yokocho! It is you, right?"

Yoko laughs heartily. It's wonderful to hear a voice from back home. Sure, he has Ryo and Subaru around, but he's gotten tired of them already. A fresh voice is certainly welcome, and talking to Maru is effortless. It's odd not being able to determine what Maru is feeling, but since it's Maru, Yoko trusts the other to express himself enough through speech.

They talk about unimportant things like how much of a mother-hen Hina is without Yoko around, how Subaru still hates strangers but Ryo glimmered at the prospect of having people to threaten around, and Yoko wants nothing more than to talk with the rest of their crew without a time limit.

"Anyone else around?" Yoko asks.

"Aw, already sick of me?" Maru says. "Hina and Ohkura are still out hunting. Yasu's around here somewhere, I'm hearing noises so he might be coming near."

"Not as sick as I am of Ryo and Subaru," Yoko says. "We're handling some of their work since that wounded guy's still in the infirmary, but otherwise the freshness wore off two weeks ago."

"You'll start complaining again once you're back home," Maru says. That's true, but Maru doesn't have to point it out so openly. Suddenly there's a lot more indecipherable noise in the background, until Maru's voice comes through once more. "Hang on, Yasu wants to talk. There's still time?"

"Five minutes or less, I think. Get him on."

"Hello," Yasu says, his voice uncharacteristically timid. "Yasuda here."

"Hi," Yoko snorts. "Yokoyama here. Anything in particular you want to say?"

"Wanted to say hello," Yasu says. "Oh, and-" even without empathy, Yoko wants to point and shout that he knew there was something else, "-can I talk to Shibutani-san?"

Yoko nearly chokes. He must have heard that wrong. "Pffft, what did you just call Subaru?"

Soft ruffling noises followed by a whizzing sound, and finally Yasu says, "Shibutani-san?"

"Did not seeing him for a month cause you to suddenly respect him more?" Yoko asks through stifled laughter. They've been together for eleven years, more if he counts the years they spent on the Emblem and the years back on Earth. They've long gone past the period of adding suffixes to each other's names.

"No," Yasu stutters. "I don't know. What should I call him?"

"Why are you asking me that?" Yoko retorts. Yasu might be talking with his rocks too much again, if this is what he's like. "Everyone calls him Subaru."

"If everyone calls him that, wouldn't he just forget who just talked to him?"

Yoko looks at Subaru, who's been listening to the entire conversation without much interest. He's trying to preserve his look of indifference, but Yoko feels Subaru flustering in his mind, and sometimes, his friends are just downright weird. He wouldn't want them any other way.

"You're weird. Subaru, your number one fan wants to talk to you, so get over here," Yoko says, pointing to the microphone.

Subaru trudges over, and Yoko grins. In a few days, they would be anxious about staying undetectable and trying to camouflage against the scarce wild life on the plains. Right now, it isn't anything worth worrying over.

--

"You've never been to the frontline before," Yamashita says as soon as he enters the room. When Massu tries to stand up, Yamashita motions for him to remain seated. "I want to talk, and this place is as good as any."

The observation room, located at the top of the lookout tower, isn't much larger than Massu's room. Massu's not claustrophobic, not really, he just prefers larger spaces and small closed spaces have the tendency to make him uncomfortable.

This is the first time Yamashita has actively seeked him out since Massu transferred to the Northern lookout. Massu had thought maybe Yamashita was uninterested, and that was unfortunate but acceptable. Now he thinks maybe Yamashita didn't want Massu on his team, which would make things much more tricky for Massu. There were other candidates that could have been transferred here, and Massu had been glad that he finally has a change to prove that he could work in a group.

It just means Massu would have to prove himself to Yamashita as well.

"I've been doing field work since the beginning," Massu says firmly. "You might be the best, but I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not the best," Yamashita says, moving a chair closer to sit on. "I'm just curious why you're suddenly here now. I've seen you around, but you were always at the back."

Massu looks out the window--might as well reaffirm his hourly check on the City and nearby camp sites. He also fights down the urge to move away from Yamashita, knowing he would only look impolite, even though he thinks his personal space is being invaded and Yamashita's presence feels like a prickly thorn bush he can't ignore.

He doesn't know why he was always kept at the back, nor why he's here now. Massu's always been the type to work silently and hope that someone would recognize his capabilities.

Explaining to Yamashita would be pointless, especially when Massu himself doesn't know why he's finally transferred here after all those years of wanting to do more. Maybe he should try to do what he always does, and show Yamashita what he can do instead. If Yamashita continues to think that Massu doesn't belong in his group, then this probably isn't the place for Massu to work in.

Massu scans the room, looking for a target. He sees nothing, and so he takes out his pencil, the one that he's about to throw away anyway because the wooden parts are breaking apart, and hands it to Yamashita. Yamashita looks confused, taking the pencil with a questioning look.

Massu hums. Lightly, because the volume doesn't matter when it's the right frequency he's searching for. When he knows he's found it, he concentrates on the middle of the pencil, wanting to show off a little. Massu doesn't know if Yamashita felt the vibrations, but when the middle portion breaks into pieces and the pencil snaps into two, Massu smiles at Yamashita.

"I know what I'm doing," Massu repeats. "And I can follow orders."

"Oh," Yamashita comments, and Massu thinks, ah, of course it wouldn't be that easy to get Yamashita to like him. He holds out his hand to take the crashed stationery back, but Yamashita dumps the remains of the pencil into his own pocket.

"Listening to you talk," Yamashita says, "who could have thought your voice's destructive?"

"Um." Massu tries to think of a reply to that. "Uh," he tries, but he's having trouble deciding what Yamashita means.

"You have a such a soft voice. Like honey."

That's something Massu hasn't heard of for a long time. There's no equivalent of bees on this planet, and honey's became another one of those things everyone talks about but no one really remembers. Like highways, and cars. And pigs. And all other animals, except chickens, which they have a carefully kept flock of on the Ship.

"When I was a kid," Massu begins. When he stops to think, Yamashita urges him on with a hand, and Massu tries to remember his childhood. Everything seems so far away. "I used to...blow things up when I talked. So I whispered all the time. I'm better at controlling it now, but it means I have to keep my voice down." When he isn't sure what else to say and looks up to Yamashita's neutral expression, Massu mutters, "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Yamashita says. "Must be annoying, having something out of your control."

"Not really." When Massu was young, he was more worried about being separated from his parents than he was about being able to shout. There was always something his mother talked about, though. It's personal, and it has nothing to do with Yamashita, and yet Massu blurts out, "I can't sing though."

To Yamashita, it's just standard conversation. "Oh. Why not?"

"The pitch," Massu explains. "If I focus on following a tune I can't control it. I can't sing anyway."

Outside, there are sounds of footsteps, and Massu wonders if anyone's coming up. Usually, only the person on watch duty comes up here to the top of the tower, but maybe someone's noticed how long Massu's been gone. He tries not to wish there's someone coming by, but it's difficult to think when his boss insists on having a heartfelt conversation after ignoring him for weeks. At this point he's babbling whatever comes to mind first and it's getting embarrassing.

"That's disappointing. I would've loved to hear you sing," Yamashita says, looking Massu in the eye. Massu fidgets some more. "Bet you would sound wonderful."

Massu opens his mouth and closes it, then decides to open it back up and look away at the same time. It ends up with him looking at the wall with a gaping mouth and he probably looks dumb, given how dumb he's feeling.

Yamashita chuckles, and Massu's not sure if he should take that as a good sign. "Am I scaring you? I apologize if I am."

Yes, sort of, Massu thinks, but there is no way he can say that aloud. "It's a privilege to be working with you," Massu says instead.

"Now, don't start talking like that," Yamashita says. "I kept wanting to talk, but it's hard to find a starting point. I actually wrote a few drafts in my mind. Your friend, the one that transferred here with you? He laughed at me when I tried talking to him with those in mind. We had fun chatting, and I finally gathered to courage to come find you."

It's just like Tegoshi to forget regulations and talk to someone as high up as Yamashita normally.

"You've been here a long time," Yamashita continues, and they're back onto the same topic again. "Why were you staying in base, then, if you can fight?"

Massu still doesn't know. But perhaps this time, he can give a better answer. "I never wanted to, but they say I'm needed now. I want to protect my home."

"That's a noble cause," Yamashita says, and Massu winces. That wasn't what he wanted it to sound like.

"That's not it," Massu says, trying to explain. It's always so confusing when people don't understand him and why does he have to say everything? Massu searches for the words, knowing they exist but also knowing that they might never come to him.

Yamashita doesn't rush him. He doesn't leave either, sitting patiently as Massu thinks. Massu wonders why, wonders if Yamashita simply doesn't have anything better to do or he's truly curious about the new addition to his team. But the look on Yamashita's face shows no disdain, and seeing Yamashita's smile makes Massu smile back. The expression is uplifting, and Massu thinks maybe Yamashita would understand, no matter what he has to say.

And so Massu says, "I think it's survival."

Yamashita doesn't say anything in reply. He does, however, reach out and place a hand on Massu's shoulder, and Massu thinks if it were under any other circumstances he would have instinctively shrugged it off, but this feels alright. When Yamashita withdraws his hand, Massu almost misses the warmth, and he wonders when was the last time someone touched him to offer comfort.

It's been nearly an hour; almost time for an hourly report again.

Time is endless when the only thing to look forward to is an empty room without a proper bed. Massu isn't the best conversationalist. It seems like Yamashita isn't either, and Massu thinks he can almost feel the silence between them expending towards the empty plains separating them from Celestial City. If sound is motion and noise is destruction, what is silence? Massu laughs dryly at himself -- poetic musings don't suit him. He doesn't consider himself stupid (who does?), but he's not the type to think much, except when necessary. Boredom brings out the philosopher in everyone.

For a while he watched the wind whip through Yamashita's hair. When Yamashita notices Massu watching him, Massu shifts his gaze towards the ceiling.

"Have you killed?" Yamashita asks, surprising Massu. All of a sudden the air around them is heavier.

It's a valid question. There are people who hold onto the ideal that they shouldn't kill, that they should try to negotiate towards a happy ending. Those people don't often make it out of base. If they are to work together, Yamashita would want someone he could trust in a pinch.

And so Massu answers, "Once."

He wonders what Yamashita's count is, wonders if Yamashita thinks him naive. After a while, when the silence starts threatening to engulf, Massu adds the only words that allow him to sleep at night. "They had guns pointed at Tegoshi and me," he murmurs. Weakly. As if that justifies murder. Perhaps Yamashita is now thinking, ah, yes, there's the reason this kid doesn't belong at the frontlines. Too soft, too feeble, too uncertain.

"Can you do it again?"

Massu wonders why Yamashita is asking him this. It's not the kind of question a commander asks their subordinates. It's not even the kind of questions friends normally ask each other. Massu's never talked about it with Tegoshi, never even wanted to because there was nothing to say.

Yet Yamashita's asking him this, and while he has to answer, it also feels right to talk to Yamashita about everything. There are reasons why some people make good leaders, and maybe this is why despite being close in age, Yamashita is the one in command. If Massu's not careful, he thinks he might accidentally spill his heart out to Yamashita, and the fact that this conversation is weeks late doesn't matter the slightest anymore.

And so Massu thinks, it doesn't whether this man thinks he's unsuitable in this field, because he is willing to fight under him. If Yamashita can have this conversation with him on their first mission together, then Massu can trust Yamashita with all his might.

Massu takes a deep breath. "If I need to."

Yamashita nods.

--

For the first few years, the planet shouted at him. Earth's speech was a whisper, soft and barely audible, and compared to Earth this planet is brash and defiant and too loud. This isn't the first time the planet has seen intelligence, but it's the first time the planet sees colonization, and it is confused.

Night after night Tsuyoshi closed off the larger voices, letting the softer noises lull him towards sleep. He tried to recall the soothing lullaby Earth provided, but even at the same volume, the two planets sound completely different. Earth is older, and wiser, and most of all tired of the life it sustains, while this planet is young and unaccustomed to dramatic changes.

Asleep, he felt something else. Familiarity. One part of him--the part that isn't quite human--belongs here more than Earth, and it flourished here. This isn't the planet it came from, but it is close, so very close that it's curious why they're here instead of there.

Time goes by, and gradually, Tsuyoshi realizes that he's coming to know the planet. It wasn't easy, and he still has trouble seeing this as home, but the planet's voice became a lesser burden and Tsuyoshi feels lighter.

When he buried the Emblem underground under orders, it felt again like the world was against him. The planet was surprisingly accepting, the earth and rocks obeying him obediently as he secured the ship under the surface. It was the people around him that made him feel isolated, those who couldn't deal with hiding the Ship even though the action was reversible and Tsuyoshi was acting under orders.

More time went by, and it became another fact that doesn't bother him anymore. It helps that he now knows the rhythm of the planet by heart, and he might not have friends (or maybe he does, Tsuyoshi never learned how to spot the exact moment when two people become friends), but having the respect of his coworkers meant he felt he had a place in the grand scheme of things.

There will always be days when he wakes up and feels like he's in the wrong place. There will always be days when he drops too deep into thought and feels like he's drowning, or days when he sees Koichi lost in thought and hitting the wall. But that's how life is, and Tsuyoshi thinks, all things considered, they're doing pretty well on this planet.

--

Day 1 on the Emblem
I have been asleep for ten years. I don't feel like I've been sleeping at all, but I am glad to have woken from reefersleep. Out of the one hundred woken, three have died. I do not think I knew them. There is suspicion that our caskets are second-rate, but there is no proof. Five years until I'm to be put asleep once more, what kind of work awaits me?

Day 2 on the Emblem
Koyama found me.

Day 16 on the Emblem
Boredom awaited. Manual work is better than no work at all, but I still feel like a captive on this ship. Thirty more years of this might drive me crazy.

Day 1825 on the Emblem
Last entry before going into reefersleep. I can only hope to wake up once more.

Day 1827 on the Emblem
Yesterday was busy. The ship is different from the last time I woke, I cannot tell how different yet./The livestock are stranger now, despite scientists guaranteeing there wouldn't be inbreeding./Ten died from being awakened this time, being frozen doesn't agree with our bodies./It could not have happened while I was asleep, so perhaps it is simply time, but my thoughts are forking themselves without my conscious thinking./It is hard to keep one thought process, harder yet to keep conversation. I will never tell Koyama this, but I am glad he understands.

Day 1850, Emblem
I have better control now.

Day 2351, Emblem
One of our electricity generators has failed. It will be a while before I can write again.

Day 2985, Emblem
Books and papers are not the way to studying engineering. The slightest mistake could cause every one of us to die and we can only hope the original builders were meticulous enough on the rest of the ship.

Day 3544, Emblem
Landing!

Day 1, Epsilon Aequor
Restarting from day one. We have successfully landed, and are preparing to wake up our passengers.

Day 2, Epsilon Aequor
We were betrayed.

Day 14, Epsilon Aequor
We have secured the Emblem for our use. Our passengers must have planned this all the way back on Earth. They have seized all land vehicles, including most of the equipment prepared for use to transform this planet for our use. Only Emblem remains ours. God knows where they are going. They have weapons. And we have protected them for so long--they are our passengers. Twenty years for each of us, one hundred years in total. How can we attack them when we are supposed to protect? If they carried the same ideas from Earth, I understand why they would want us dead. But some of ours are on their side now. Nothing makes sense.

Day 101, Eden? Epsilon Aequor
They renamed the planet Eden. Perhaps they do not understand the religious background of the name, or perhaps they thought it simple. It doesn't fit us. Our state is still largely temporary. There is conflict everywhere. Maybe one day the planet will have a real name, but for now it remains Epsilon Aequor, the name we brought from Earth.

Day 165, Epsilon Aequor
Four bases have been set around the Emblem's landing spot using the four remaining travel ships.

Day 1211, Epsilon Aequor
They put the Emblem underground today. For what purposes, I cannot fathom. Perhaps to mark an end of an era?

Day 1742, Epsilon Aequor
Buildings to be used as lookout towers have been erected from the ground today, with the power of one person. Each of us can do different things, but sometimes I wonder if I am good for anything at all. In fits of boredom, I have been calculating the natural cycles for this planet, only to discover that someone with a connection to nature could figure it all out within hours. A multiprocessor is only useful doing mundane things that have no place in a life such as ours.



Day 4731 on this god-forsaken planet
I have been assigned to the Northern lookout. I should be honored, but it is easier to be afraid.

Day 4736, Epsilon Aequor
There is sunlight for half of the day. The sunrise is an amazing sight. So is the sunset.

-transcripts from Kato Shigeaki's diary.

--

Sunlight never reaches the forest, and there are things living in the forest that makes the bravest hunter shudder (mostly because they could be practically invisible or poisonous or potentially deadly or all of the above), but Maru's having fun and that's all that matters.

"Let's sing!" Maru says, launching a tone without a melody. Who cares about music when there's noise.

"This isn't a picnic," Ryo says, biting out the words.

Except it kind of seems like one, and Maru's willing to take whatever they get. They're cooped up in a tiny travel-size hidden base remodeled from a ship nearly all the time, and even when they're outside they usually journey out in pairs. This is the first time in more than ten years that six of them are outside together, and the only possible downside to this is that Yoko's not here with them.

"But it's the first time this many of us are making this trip together!" Maru says, jumping over the large root in front of him. Hina and Ohkura step onto it while Ryo and Subaru go around it.

Yasu is lagging behind. It's very understandable, because they're near the borders of the forest by now, and they rarely get to venture this far, not when it's easier to stay unnoticed inside the forest. So, no one can blame Yasu for wanting to dig into the forest floor, searching for samples near areas he's never gone through before. Yasu's rocks are important, they're part of his powers or something, and it's easier to let Yasu do what he wants because while Yasu's normally the nicest person around, he's also incredibly snappy if he doesn't get his mineral fix, and wow does that sound weird.

Maru was serious about singing, though. Kind of. He makes a seal-like noise, trying to imitate the unique bark that isn't quite like the dog-fish hybrids on this planet and someone really needs to start naming these creatures in a language people actually understand (like anything other than Latin).

He hears a bark in return, and sees Subaru grinning widely before him. Trust Subaru to join him in the fun. Maru slaps Subaru's back and Subaru growls in return, and oh this game is so on. Bark. Roar. Woof. Yap. Gnarl. Howl.

"We're never catching any live prey now," Ryo declares, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I'm tired," Ohkura whines, and everyone gives him a sympathetic look but no one bothers to slow down because Ohkura's been saying the same thing since they started this trip in the morning.

This time, instead of a selected three, six of them are traveling to the Northern lookout. And Yoko's not even staying to keep watch--he's going back to the Emblem to participate in some large meeting that's probably going to decide all of their fate, and boy is Maru glad he's not the one that has to go. Making this three day trip to the Northern lookout is like a field trip combined with the best vacation ever compared to a stress-filled meeting.

Maru tries not to think about the abandoned Northern base. It's been their home for nearly thirteen years, and thinking about it empty and almost abandoned feels wrong. Which is why Maru's purposely trying not to think of the empty halls, the vines that are undoubtedly going to grow, the tiny insect-creatures that are going to crawl around and the utter darkness inside the room he knows as his.

Yeah, not working.

"Animals around here are more active when the sun's nearly setting. We'll hunt then," Hina says, trying to maintain order.

Sunlight. It's almost a novelty to think of, when the sun doesn't reach their base and the only light they get is the scarce light they manage to produce from the small supply of electricity they get.

Hina mentioned the sun setting. There are going to be sunrises and sunsets. Light that gives off warmth and isn't artificial. Light that comes from another star.

Maru can barely contain himself from bubbling in joy. So he doesn't, letting his excitement show in the way he walks and who cares if he's prancing, in a few hours he might actually see open space instead of peering into the sky through branches and it sounds amazing.

When he looks back, Yasu is looking at him with an amused expression, and Maru laughs. Subaru seems momentarily confused, but doesn't let that bother him, and starts a nursery rhyme with lyrics he's clearly making up as he sings. Maru sings along, adding a verse the moment Subaru finishes, and when Maru's done, Yasu follows. They make such a great team, the others really should consider joining in too.

"If there's anything left on this half of the planet," Ryo says.

Maru tuts at Ryo, and Subaru just sings louder. Yasu starts laughing uncontrollably. Ohkura laughs along, but soon starts grumbling once more, and Hina offers to help carry most of Ohkura's belongings. The tips of Ohkura's lips quirk, and Maru smiles; it's just like Ohkura to wring help out of someone just by being completely himself.

Although they start focusing on walking a little more after that, each time Maru mutters the lyrics under his breath, Yasu giggles. And this is just the first day. Maru does remember that this is an official mission, responsible adults and all; he also can't wait for tomorrow to arrive.

--

Tegoshi normally doesn't bother worrying about other people, because he wholeheartedly believes that the world can fully function if everyone just worries about themselves.

But when Koyama doesn't pass him a glance as Tegoshi purposely walks by, coughing and pretending to trip over his own feet, Tegoshi knows that something is up. If a Shige imitation doesn't get a response, it must mean that Koyama's under great emotional stress, like the time the chicken Koyama adopted on the Emblem died and got turned into dinner. Koyama wanted a proper burial, but the only burial possible was to throw the chicken off board and they cannot afford to waste food, even if the food in question is old chicken meat that tastes like rubber.

And when Yamashita turns around the corner with the same grim expression pasted on his face, Tegoshi gets the hint that not only is this something really serious, but both Koyama and Yamashita are involved.

Tegoshi shrugs and decides he's thirsty. If it's important, he'll know in due time; if it has nothing to do with him, then he's not going to dive into more trouble. Right now he wants some water to rinse his throat and an excuse to get away from the other two in the hallway.

Approximately one hour and twenty minutes later, it turns out that it's very important, and Yamashita's calling an emergency meeting to announce whatever it is.

Tegoshi walks in the meeting room and smiles when he sees his favorite spot still open. It's the chair at the far end from the door, slightly to the right of the room and easily the best corner to either insert input or slack off completely and draw the least attention.

Koyama isn't there yet, but both Massu and Yamashita is, and Tegoshi wonders if Massu notices how they gravitate towards each other when they're not paying attention.

People grow to sense each other better as they spend time together, of course; even people who hate each other learn to read each other, although more in a clashing sort of way than the gradual adapting most people comply to. Having spent much of his adolescence with Massu, Tegoshi always knows when Massu's hungry, which might seem like an useless thing to know but anyone who knows Massu knows how important it is that Massu's fed properly.

It's different with Yamashita and Massu. When Yamashita's jotting down a plan and runs out of things to write on, he only needs to look up and Massu would be there with sheets of paper before Yamashita thinks of asking. When Massu's room is running low on electricity on the days he needs to work overnight, Yamashita would file in a supply transfer before Massu sends in a request.

They're polite to each other, professionally so, but even without conversation Yamashita seems to connect with Massu in ways Tegoshi simply doesn't. It's easy and natural to feel a little dejected, but Tegoshi's mostly glad. Comfort isn't easily found on this world of theirs.

When the group is properly assembled, all five of them sitting around the round table, Yamashita starts explaining the alterations that are about to happen, and Tegoshi realizes that this is one of the biggest changes that has happened to him in years.

They're deserting all four bases that surround and protect the Emblem, which sounds ridiculous to Tegoshi because the Emblem means their continual survival and the future. The teams living in the bases are to either move back to the Emblem, or be called to the frontline, meaning they're combining units and people are coming out to the two lookouts to join forces.

And a small tag team is going to try sneaking in the Celestial City.

To which Tegoshi's reaction is--what? Celestial City is not off limits, because it doesn't need to be. No one goes near the City, not even if you're invisible, invincible and undetectable at the same time. Nothing is worth the risk of taunting the City when all they want is for everyone in the City to leave them alone. Nothing until now, that is, and apparently only the people going on this mission have access to the details.

Tegoshi isn't even going. Instead, Massu is, which totally isn't fair because they're practically equal.

"The rest of us are to maintain surveillance twenty-four-seven and be ready for any attack," Yamashita says, putting down his notes. His lips pinched in a line, Yamashita then adds, "And I've been called back to the Emblem, along with Koyama."

Massu looks at Yamashita with a calm expression, exactly what the rest of them don't seem to be feeling. "Of course," Massu says. "You're our leader."

"They're discussing something about our future, aren't they? Wait, no need to answer," Shige says, shooting his hands up in a surrender pose. "I know you can't. Good luck, Yamashita-kun. What's this about Koyama?"

Koyama explains, but Tegoshi's not quite in the mood to hear everything. Something about tutoring kids (forty years olds, but Tegoshi's sixty and they still look like kids, so they are kids) because Koyama can stabilize and promote utilization of powers and chickens. Or he might have heard that wrong and it means Koyama's going back to take care of a new batch of chickens, which would make so much more sense.

"I'm more suited for combat, and you guys know it! Everyone knows that," Yamashita says. Tegoshi nods in agreement. "I don't get the higher-ups, and I don't plan to. I'm going too."

"No, you're not," Massu says. "Don't do this, Yamashita-kun."

Yamashita narrows his eyes at Massu, and Tegoshi almost feels sorry for his friend. Not that Tegoshi would back down either, but he's also not into dramatic scenes, and now that he thinks about it, it's weird that Massu's getting worked up over things.

"Massu's right, Yamapi," Tegoshi says. "You should follow orders. And this mission might be out of the ordinary, but you know Massu can handle it."

The meeting is over. Yamashita, excellent fighter though he is (and Tegoshi can admit that freely), will be going back to the Emblem. Massu will be joining in the team that's going to sneak into Celestial City, horrifying as it sounds. And the rest of them, Tegoshi included, will be watching over the Northern lookout until further orders, as boring as things will be.

For years, they've been living alongside the City, around but never near. They hide from attacks and defend themselves from the soldiers of the City only when under direct assault, and that's the way it's always been. Aside from wanting the City to forget they ever existed, Tegoshi doesn't know of any other plan.

Except things are changing now. Huge shifts in the dynamics of their statuses are being made, and there has to be a reason behind this. Something is in the works, but Tegoshi isn't allowed to know, and it's all really terribly irritating.

Something has started the ball rolling, and they are all going under.

--

Yamapi rarely acknowledges the fact that he's the leader of the lookout. He's a true believer of everyone having their own place in the world, and he knows his own. It has nothing to do with leadership.

He has no trouble deciding things for himself, he just doesn't know how he should figure things out for others--fortunately, Koyama doesn't mind asking everyone's opinions and putting it all together, so Yamapi leaves the planning to Koyama. He also has no trouble submitting his own work, but he's never sure how he should know everything that's going on at once--which is perfect, because processing everything at once is something Shige excels at.

Except now he has to help decide the entire fate of their group of not-quite-humans, and Yamapi never knows what to think about politics.

It's worse that he's not allowed to talk about things with the others, so he can't even consult his friends on their opinions. He's probably not allowed to think about it till he gets to the Emblem.

Even if he suspects that this might be a suicide mission.

"I can't let you go," Yamapi says.

"Yes, you can," Massu replies, and Yamapi hates the way Massu's looking at him. "You should trust me once in a while."

Yamapi's going back to the Emblem, the safest place he could possibly be on this planet. And Massu's heading towards the City, where detection means instant slaughter. How is it that he has to let Massu do this with a randomly assembled group instead of someone from his own team backing him up?

"I do trust you. I just don't want to."

Deep at night, in the privacy of Massu's room, even hushed voices seem to echo back to them.

When Massu's deep asleep and snoring lightly, Yamapi runs his fingers over the slope of Massu's throat, lingering over the larynx. How could such a simple feature of the human body create such beauty, he wonders, and how was he to bear the disappearance of Massu's voice?

The answer is simple. He won't. Yamapi can already feel himself breaking, and he knows it's only a matter before he comes apart.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, even if Massu can't hear him. Even if Yamapi knows that if Massu were awake, Massu would never forgive him, knows that once Massu wakes up he would be angry at Yamapi's stupidity. Even if Massu might never trust Yamapi again, not when Yamapi promised to trust in Massu's ability. In time, Massu could learn to hate him, cursing when he thinks of Yamapi in the future. And that's the only thought that's sustaining Yamapi--he's willing to live through anything, fight, die just so Massu has time, just so he can be certain that Massu will live on.

And with a simple flick of his fingers, Yamapi takes Massu's voice, stores it into himself. and locks it with a key. Usually he keeps the senses he steals on the surface, almost afraid to try putting them further in, but this time it's deeply embedded within a place no one else will know until Yamapi chooses to reveal it.

All that's left is to leave the lookout before anyone wakes, and Massu will have to catch up with Yamapi and the team needs to leave before that happens because that's the only way they'd be near the City when the gates open for the month.

Then Yamapi would likely lose all respect everywhere and make a fool of himself, plus if the mission fails Yamapi himself--along with the rest of the world--would hate Yamashita Tomohisa forever.

But he's going through with this plan anyway. Idiotic and brainless doesn't even begin to describe this.

Part 2.