The television special was covering five days, and the last day of shooting had arrived. The schedule had proceeded without incident, and so far no major problems had been observed.
“Well, Captain, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Hoshina asked. He had come to the captain’s office first thing that morning. This was because last night in the dojo, Ashiro had been about to bring up some matter she wanted to talk about. Now she was sitting at her desk, reading through a document. The sky seen through the window behind her was dark, as if it might start to rain at any moment.
“About next week,” Ashiro began. “It’s been decided that I’m going on a business trip to Ariake Seaside Base, way down south in Kyushu.”
“The timing of this—Is it about those two identifieds?” Hoshina asked.
“Yes,” Ashiro replied, nodding. “It seems the higher-ups also have a dour view of the situation. Ordinarily, I’d have you attend as well, but things are what they are. You’ll be in charge of the base while I’m away.”
“Roger that,” Hoshina said. “After all, the load’s too heavy for Ikaruga and Shinomiya.”
Kaiju No. 8 and Kaiju No. 9 had both been sighted in northern Tokyo. It would be dangerous in the extreme for both of the Third Division’s strongest fighters to leave the base while those two were still unneutralized.
“Please take care during your trip. I’ll show myself out,” Hoshina said. He was just about to leave the office when Ashiro called after him.
“How’s the reporting going?”
“It’s going fine. After all, with Shinomiya and Izumo, Kaguragi and Furuhashi, and Ichikawa too, we’ve got a fine crop of newcomers this year. I think the crew can feel that they’ve got a story worth filming. They’re in pretty high spirits.”
“Really?” Ashiro said.
“Oh, and Hibino’s also getting his share of attention.”
Ashiro looked surprised to hear that.
“He’s the oldest newcomer, and he’s easy to handle for television,” Hoshina said. “With his promotion to general officer decided, he’s also trying hard. Though he does spin his wheels a lot, hm?”
Ashiro had no comment to offer. She was silently reading her document. To Hoshina, however, it looked like the line of her mouth had softened slightly. “You’ve told him that until I write his letter of appointment, he isn’t a general officer, haven’t you?” she asked.
“Y-yes. You were going to do that next week, weren’t you?”
Just then, the phone on Ashiro’s desk rang. She took it on the first ring. Her face wore the same calm, collected expression as always.
Huh? Was that a smile, or were my eyes playing tricks on me?
“Ashiro here. Okonogi? Understood.”
From her tone of voice, Hoshina instantly picked up on the situation. “Are we up, Captain?” he asked.
“Yes. Get everyone together ASAP,” Ashiro ordered.
A light sprinkle of raindrops was falling against the window.
Kafka, having his breakfast in the mess hall, looked outside and sluggishly murmured, “Rain, huh. And we’ve got sharpshooting practice this morning. I hate rainy days. You slip on the ground, your gun’s handle gets cold, and—”
Reno, sitting across the table from him, stirred his natto while he answered. “What did you expect? It’s not going to be good weather every time we go hunt kaiju in the field.”
“No kidding,” Kafka agreed. “It was tough in the Monster Sweeper days too.”
“Those days when there was deep snow were the worst.”
“Still, you’re right, Ichikawa. After all, the kaiju couldn’t care less about our situation.”
Looking at the seat across from him, Kafka could see the TV crew filming them having breakfast. “The filming ends today, right? It feels like it’s taken a long time—and also, like it was over before we knew it.”
Ultimately, Kafka hadn’t gotten his chance to show off in front of the camera. He’d sputtered his way through his interview on the first day and finished last on the second day’s obstacle course. Even during the previous night’s kendo training, he hadn’t managed to score a single point off Hoshina. “I’d like to at least show off a little on the last day.” Kafka said out loud.
“What are you talking about? If you push yourself too hard, nothing good will come of it—again.” It was Kikoru, speaking to Kafka from behind as she passed by with an empty tray. Akari and Hakua were with her.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Kikoru?” Kafka asked.
“Knowing you, you’ll end up running in circles. Just do your training without overextending yourself.”
Then, so that those around her wouldn’t hear, she whispered in Kafka’s ear, “Got it? This is the last day of filming, so be a good boy and don’t start wagging that tail of yours.”
“Oh yeah, right,” said Kafka. “I don’t have a tail though—just horns.”
“I’m not talking about your physical characteristics!”
Kikoru had spoken more loudly than she’d realized and was starting to draw stares.
“Kiko-baby, what’s the matter?” Akari asked from behind her.
Kikoru’s cheeks flushed and she cleared her throat, trying to pretend she hadn’t said anything. “Anyway, watch yourself, okay?” she said to Kafka.
“I told you, keep it down! Sheesh!” he said, getting flustered.
“Kafka Hibino. At the rate you’re going, you’re probably going to tell some hopeless dad jokes soon and put the whole room into an Arctic deep freeze,” Kikoru said.
“Ha, ha ha. No way would I do that.”
Back in elementary school, Kafka had had a homeroom teacher who told dad jokes at a rapid-fire pace. Kafka remembered vowing back then that no such puns or gags would ever cross his own lips in the future.
Kafka took a bit of rice and called out to Reno, who was on the other side of the table. “Hey, hey, Ichikawa. My joke just now wasn’t ‘Arctic,’ was it?”
“Eh, it was so-so,” Reno said unenthusiastically. “I’d put it around ‘winter on the Sea of Japan coast.’”
“That’s freezing cold!” Kafka exclaimed.
“Still, sir,” Reno continued, “you really ought to be careful, like Shinomiya says. You know—about kaiju-fication.”
Kikoru and Reno alike had been showing more concern for Kafka than usual these days. So much so in Reno’s case that even now he was still walking around with that paper mask of Kaiju No. 8 just in case he needed it again in an emergency.
“Ah, I’m fine,” Kafka said. “After all, I’m not gonna slip up like I did on the first day of filming.”
Just then, a loud alarm blared out in the mess hall.
It was just like the Sagamihara neutralization mission a scant three weeks ago.
“Kaiju emergence, kaiju emergence. Officers, prepare immediately for mobilization.”
No sooner had the operator’s voice rung out than the officers in the mess hall headed outside. Reno and Kafka looked at one another, got up, and ran outside, leaving their half-eaten breakfasts behind.
Hoshina came walking up through the pouring rain, clad in a parka and hood. “Third Division, this is an all-hands mobilization. Get started on your preparations immediately.”
“Yes, sir!” Kafka and the others replied, saluting him.