Morning came early for the defense squad. At 6:00 a.m., the sound of the wake-up bugle rang out through the barracks at Tachikawa Base. Reno sat up in bed the moment he heard it. Soft morning sunlight was shining through a gap in the curtains.
This isn’t the hospital. Oh, that’s right. I’m back at defense. He had less than five minutes to get ready for work. Reno quickly folded his futon. Each squad would be having their morning assemblies next, so he had to hurry to get dressed.
“Ahriiight! Mornin’ already?” Iharu, who’d been asleep in the bed next to Reno, leapt out of his futon. He snored late at night, but he woke up with exceptional ease.
“It’s been quiet around here but looks like things’re about to get rowdy again.” So said a grimacing Haruichi, grooming his hair in front of the sink and mirror. Five minutes not being enough time for the task, he’d apparently gotten up before reveille.
Aoi Kaguragi, a young man with a light-tan complexion, made his bed with the experienced hand one would expect of an ex-JGSDF member. Neat, crisp, and not a wrinkle to be found.
At the sight of these teammates with whom he barracked, Reno, too, felt a swell of eagerness surging up inside. He was ready to get back to work. He’d spent two weeks slowly recuperating in a hospital room—of course, even there he’d kept up his studies—but there was no question that his fellow recruits had been steadily improving their skills during the same period. Reno knew he had to catch back up to them.
And above all, that race through the obstacle course is waiting for us tomorrow.
Reno had received notice from Hoshina earlier about the obstacle course. It was a form of training where they’d suit up and compete for the best time doing target practice among a throng of abandoned buildings. From what he had heard, new recruits tended to do poorly.
Still, amid these circumstances, there was one individual who had still not gotten out of bed.
“Mr. Hibino, are you doing all right?” Reno looked at Kafka in the next bed over. Although Kafka was sitting up, his futon still wasn’t even folded. Kafka’s brow was furrowed, and he was holding his head and moaning.
“Unghh, my head’s killing me.”
“What’s the matter, old man? Hangover?” asked Iharu.
“It’s ’cause I’d been laying off the sauce since I joined the force.” Kafka explained wearily. “Hits hard when it’s been a while.”
“Please, pull yourself together. The TV coverage is starting today.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right! All right, then. Time to get serious.” Kafka got out of bed and immediately belched, vomited, and went pale.
At this point, Reno was getting a very bad feeling.
Last night, it was probably for the best that I had that ready.
After the squad-level morning assemblies were done, each member had rotating cleaning duties. Reno, together with Haruichi, were in charge of cleaning the men’s restrooms.
“Hey, Reno, you’ve known Kafka since before he joined the Defense Force, right?” asked Haruichi.
“That’s right. I’ve known him since I was a part-time kaiju dismantler.”
“So that’s why you call him ‘mister’ and ‘sir’,” eh? Still, it’s kind of misleading for the rest of us.”
Reno was puzzled. “What?” he asked.
“I mean, the past is what it is, and yes, he is older, but now that you’ve entered the Defense Force together, there’s no seniority for either of you.”
“Well, that’s true, I guess.” Haruichi certainly did have a point. Kafka might be older than him, but he’d joined the force at the same time as the rest, and there were even those like Haruichi who had dropped his honorific. The only one addressing him as a superior now was Reno. From an outsider’s point of view, that was misleading, and an open invitation to misunderstandings. For some reason, though, Reno just didn’t feel like dropping the habit of calling him “sir” and “mister.”