A column of large-scale transport vehicles was making its way up a mountain road. Weapons, rescue supplies, and Third Division officers were packed tightly inside. As the vehicle swayed this way and that, Kafka was moaning with a hand on his stomach. “Uhhh,” he groaned.
Hoshina noticed and said, sounding a little shocked, “What’s the matter, Kafka? You go too heavy on the rice again?”
“N-no, sir! It’s more like I was midway through breakfast, so now I’m hungry.”
The sound of Kafka’s growling stomach resounded throughout the vehicle.
“Overeating one day and undereating the next. You’re a man of extremes.” Hoshina said.
The swaying and vibrations from the mountain road were taking a physical toll on Kafka.
Not good! I’m starting to feel a little sick.
Kafka realized he’d broken out in a bit of a sweat underneath his suit. As the vehicles got closer to the emergence site, his heart was beating hard and fast.
Just then, he was clapped on the shoulder from the side. Reno, sitting next to him, was holding out a chocolate bar.
“Here. Eat this, sir,” Reno said.
“Is it really okay? That belongs to you.”
“I’ll be fine. Anyway, sir, wasn’t it you who told me we’ve gotta eat when we’re able, or things’ll be hard later on?” Those were the words Kafka had said to Reno on his first day as a part-time worker.
“Wow, you remembered a silly thing like that?” Kafka asked.
“I did. Now eat this.”
“Thanks, Ichikawa.” Kafka took the candy bar from Reno, then began munching on it hungrily.
It’s settled down a little. And I have a weapon of my own too. I’ll do what I’m able to at the scene.
Though Kafka still hadn’t received his letter of appointment, he had gone out on the front line at Sagamihara and swiftly identified the kaiju’s weakness, and for that he’d been recognized as a general officer. He’d gained a bit of confidence from that.
“Vice-Captain Hoshina! On the site this time, I plan on identifying the kaiju’s cores and supplying information!”
Hoshina nodded at Kafka’s powerful declaration. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Except this time, we don’t need you to. We’ve already figured out where their cores are.”
Kafka nearly fell over. “Whaa—?” he said in shock.
Hoshina explained, “We just got a communiqué from the analysis unit. Look at these images of the kaiju at the scene. These kaiju are from the same family tree as the ones Ikaruga Platoon neutralized a week ago.”
This was good news, Kafka told himself. If they knew where the cores were located this early, that alone would make it much easier to deal with the kaiju. This was the fruit of the data collected by the Defense Force analysis unit.
“Still, you can do something besides that, can’t you?” Hoshina asked.
“Yes, sir!” Kafka answered in a powerful voice. His job wasn’t limited to analysis only. There were lots of things he could do, like neutralizing damaged yoju and providing support for other officers.
With no inkling of how many times he’d done so already, Kafka performed a painstaking check of his rifle and suit. That’s when he realized that Kikoru, who was sitting in front of him, had been silent for a while now. Her head was resting on one hand, and she wore a sullen expression on her face.
“What’s the matter, Kikoru?” Kafka asked.
“What do you mean, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just had a feeling you were in a bad mood.”
“It isn’t anything like that,” she said dismissively.
Kafka kept questioning her. “Did you not get to finish your breakfast?”
“Don’t lump me in with you,” Kikoru growled.
“Hey! Eating a good breakfast is important, right?”
Kafka wouldn’t stop talking, and Kikoru let out a long sigh in response.
Kikoru’s bad mood was due to something Hoshina had told her just prior to heading out.
“What? I can’t use my custom weapon this time?”
Kikoru’s voice was loud, but Hoshina remained calm and nodded. “It’s a pity,” he said. “But we just sent that axe back to Izumo Tech. Apparently, some fine-tuning is necessary. Can you deal with the kaiju using firearms this time?”
“And I studied Squadron-Style Axe Technique for this!” Kikoru said in exasperation. “Okay, what about the greatsword—”
“That’s also been sent back,” Hoshina said flatly.
The familiar sensation of the axe and greatsword in her hands offered new tactics and possibilities in battle that were simply unimaginable with firearms. They could improve Kikoru’s combat ability by leaps and bounds. The thought of going into battle without her custom weapons was deeply frustrating.
“With your unleashed combat power, a gun should be plenty powerful. Save the custom weapons for your next battle,” Hoshina said.
Kikoru could only nod reluctantly and say, “Understood, sir.”
“It’s fine. No big deal. I should be able to fight just fine with a gun.”
“What’d you say, Kikoru?”
“Like I said, it’s nothing.”
Kikoru spun her head away from Kafka.
Kafka cocked his head, unable to fully understand the tense mood she was in.
Two hours after leaving the base, the transports finally came to a halt. Hoshina got up, looked around at the faces inside the vehicle, and said, “Well, let’s get to it, people—time to neutralize some kaiju. Let’s put some spirit into it.”
The door opened and an icy wind blew in, cutting like a knife. Kafka gulped as he saw the scene outside. Dozens of transport vehicles were lined up on a vast plot of land. Before their eyes, the sacred Mount Fuji rose up high beneath a leaden sky. Minami-Tsuru, Yamanashi Prefecture—this was the Ground Self-Defense Force’s North Fuji garrison.
Kafka slapped both of his cheeks, stepped outside, and yelled, “All right! Let’s do this, Ichikawa! Kikoru!”
“Why are you giving orders? Good grief,” Kikoru said in disgust.
The Third Division’s kaiju-neutralization operation was about to begin.