AKGO narrative segments compilation
I kept never getting around to this but I'd been meaning for a while to catalogue a couple of pieces of writing that I did for Awards Killing Game Odyssey in a more narrative style rather than the mainly dialogue only style I tend to use for roleplay since I feel a couple of them can stand on their own somewhat, I wanted to present hem in a more normal format, and there were some notes here and there I could add to them. They are obviously kind of awkward when read disconnected from the rest of the game's narrative but I guess think of this like a cutscene or CG gallery in a video game.
Prologue – original post link
And just like that, the war was over.
It wasn't long before he was clearing out the small residence he'd been stationed at near the base, getting ready to move on as he always did. It was November now, a creeping chill replacing summer's cicada shrills in the air and the leaves changing colors and beginning to fall from the trees. Soon they, like the cicadas, would all be dead as well. He didn't have very much to pack, which was fortunate given he didn't have much desire to stay any longer. Someone requested he collect a few other personal effects too, for safekeeping on behalf of their owner, but that task went quick enough. There wasn't much of that either. Some stationary supplies, a mechanical pencil and so on, made up most of it.
There were all sorts of emotions to be found in the city then, as convoys of trucks departed and the locals waved from the sidewalks, banners on display bidding farewell – relief that peace had returned, a few who were glad to see foreign forces leave town, a certain wistfulness and a worry about the economic prospects the community faced with the departure of the Americans, the base likely to end up a sleepy backup airfield for the Self-Defense Force.
He shared none of their relief. After all, the war ending didn't absolve anyone of their sins.
The memory of those days never left him and their weight didn't lessen much, but it was several years later before something came across his desk that, by an odd stroke of coincidence, brought them fully back to the front of his mind. It was early in spring then, before the cherry blossoms had begun to bloom.
Really, with shit like this coming up, it called for a vacation of sorts. Fortunately his schedule was free at just the right time...
Notes: There was a lot put in to creating an interesting, self-contained setting for AKGO and it was fun to learn about it as the game went on, but the other side of that was that I didn't really know anything about it at the time I was starting to write, so early on 'America' and 'Japan' get mentioned frequently where later on it would be 'Mycelia' and 'Kupon'. For the couple other people who have seen the
Iriya no Sora, UFO no Natsu anime
you might reminder Iriya's 'Asaba bag' she kept as a charm; that was my intention when I wrote Enomoto holding on to some 'stationary supplies' for an unidentified someone.
Night 4 – original post link
–Summer, 4 years prior–
She swept her eyes across the sky laid out around her. It was relatively dark and quiet in the cockpit, the pale blue glow of her instrument panels providing most of the light and the noise of her engines only a low, steady whirr at cruising speed, her view separated into the darkened gray of the clouds below her and the black field of stars above by a glowing ring of blue encircling the planet. It was almost relaxing up here like this, but she kept alert. Reconnaissance sweeps were done for a reason and uncovered enemies frequently enough, and unlike an interception sortie there was no chance she was returning to base before the allotted time was up.
Orders were orders. Save for once, she had always followed orders, even if it pushed her so far she wanted to cry. Even if, now, it wasn't for much more reason than for
her sake.
While the night had been quiet so far, there was, she had noticed, one strange visitor in the sky, the faint red strake of the comet visible high above her cockpit canopy. Her head ached, which was normal at this altitude though never this bad, and she gripped the controls tighter than usual.
Glancing up at the red glow above and then back to her instruments, checking her altitude, location, heading, and speed, she advanced the throttle, hearing the engines spool up faster and feeling the acceleration press her back into the seat, and nudged her nose into a shallow climb. Her left hand kept pushing further, the throttle clicking past the afterburner notch, until she'd finally pushed it all the way to the firewall.
She was starting to realize something wasn't right.
"...Uh, Manta Three to Control..."
–Early spring, a few months ago–
Enomoto leafed through the folder of documents, skimming a little on the technical details about comet orbits and so on. Appearances at random intervals, growing more frequent in the past few years. He didn't make a point of learning things he didn't have to know, and the basics would probably suffice to give him a workable, good-enough understanding for his purposes.
"I've seen a bit about this on the news lately," he said. "Say, comets aren't supposed to appear whenever they want to at different intervals are they?"
"Oh, yes and no," his briefer answered. "Comet orbits can be altered significantly by perturbation – to put it simply the gravitational effects of the gas giants like Jupiter can act on comets, and if their orbit is altered the interval between their apparitions is changed. All that said the Sargasso Vermelha's behavior is very unusual and there isn't any model that explains how and why it acts the way it does."
"And you think it might be within the scope of what I was working on, so to say?"
The woman fiddled with her glasses. "Basically we don't know. The last apparition though was three and a half, four years ago and it seems like it coincided with your program and there was some sort of incident. For some reason I can't pull the files on that, however. But yes, that's more or less what the fear is over at Command."
"...Tell me one other thing. Whether it is or isn't, isn't that something that doesn't concern me as someone who isn't an astronomer or involved in planning on levels like these?"
"Evidently there's some other complications and that's where someone like you comes in,--" she said, shrugging her shoulders, "--but that will be another briefing."
Hanabiboshi (Intermission) – part 1 – part 2 – part 3
"How do you say 'comet' in Japanese?"
Iriya looked at her feet, standing off to the side in the hangar. It was another hot summer day, and, with the hangar doors drawn open, even inside, shielded from the harsh sun beating down and with the fans blowing, she was sweating in her flight jacket and camouflage pants. Unzipping it had only helped so much, and taking it off when she was on a level three standby alert was unthinkable.
"I don't know that," she answered. "Sorry... I don't know many words like that in Japanese. Before I came here I had only learned simple ones."
"Right," Erica said. She moved a ladder into place next to the aircraft occupying the hangar, climbing up on to it, and beginning to fix a stencil beneath the cockpit canopy. "I guess everything you've taught me to say is simple, yeah."
"Enomoto talks to you in Japanese right?", she asked as Iriya stepped closer to her, picking up a small spray-can of paint, turning it over in her hands before offering it to Erica when she glanced down at the utility cart. "--Thanks."
Iriya nodded. "Yes. He does. Umm, sometimes." She paused, watching Erica fill in her stencil. "...You shot down another one?"
"Yeah. Two last night." It didn't take long for her to paint on the kill mark. "I would have come and told you about it but you were asleep when I got back to base."
She nodded again. "I came because I heard you had a sortie... I just wanted to talk to you because of that."
Not that long ago she had still been afraid Erica would push her away or not want to be friends with her, or think she was being clingy or bothersome, if she tried to talk to her. It had been hard to deal with. But, after everything, not anymore.
Erica climbed down, glancing at her as she took another stencil. "Thanks, Kana."
"...Why did you ask about comets?"
"Remember in the conditions briefing when they mentioned the comet that's going to appear?", she said, stepping back on to the ladder and fixing the second stencil in place. "The Sargasso Vermelha, something like that--," Erica finished putting on her stencil and took the can again, painting on another marking, just a plain saucer shape for a foe without a flag or roundel, "--I don't know about comets but when I was little before I got taken away my mom talked about it, how fate is written in the night sky and stuff. She was really in to it."
She paused, done painting, and stepped down from the ladder, leaving the spray-can on the cart and walking toward the open door as Iriya followed behind her, sitting down cross-legged on the hangar floor. They looked out across the airfield and at the barren desert beyond, a shimmering heat haze in the distance.
"I think she told me everyone has some kind of secret name," she continued as Iriya sat down next to her. "A 'star name', the name that's written in the stars as your name or something. She told me mine. I wish I could remember it."
There was a long silence, both of them just gazing out over the tarmac, not speaking.
"Do you believe in it?", Iriya asked,
Erica shrugged her shoulders. "I want to I guess... I want to believe that there's a reason for all of this, for why it's us that have to fly. That's how I can keep doing it." She put her hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun. "That and... I guess don't want you to die or to do it alone."
"...If it's what you want to believe I want to believe it too."
"It probably isn't true. Maybe we're both just fooling ourselves."
Iriya shook her head, feeling fear gripping at her again. "I... I want to believe it, so..."
"Say, have you heard of the
Suisei Matsuri?"
Iriya's almost robotic motions paused, her fork hanging in the air with a bite of macaroni on it.
By now Enomoto had gotten used to seeing it, but the way she ate had stuck out to him at first. He couldn't think of anyone else he'd met who never once seemed to take some bit of pleasure from eating. Iriya didn't seem to have any strong preferences in terms of food either, usually taking whatever she was given or whatever presented the path of least resistance. She could be a little unnerving.
Sometimes he wondered what the hell his job was here.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She seemed tired this afternoon. "I haven't."
"Basically it's an old religious festival in the town you came from," he said, slurping up some spaghetti. For as plain as the officer's mess, a windowless, clinical-feeling space tucked away on the base complex, was, the food was always better than one would expect.
"I don't know about it," Iriya said, between bites of chicken. "
...In English what is 'suisei'?" she asked, switching out of Japanese.
"
It means 'comet'," he said. "I suppose that's probably so, isn't it? Well, I thought you might've been interested in hearing a story like that."
"...Will you tell it to me?"
Enomoto nodded as she quietly ate, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere between her plate and his face. "Actually, reading about that comet there's a funny coincidence between the two of us. Like I said there was a comet festival in the town you were born, and apparently the last time it passed by the Earth or something was right about when I was born."
About thirty-two years ago, from his cursory web search on the Sargasso Vermelha.
"As for the comet festival... In ancient times there was once a famine in that district, so the residents prayed to their gods for help. The legend is that one night a red comet was in the sky..."
"In the past apparently people saw comets as bad omens so they were scared--," Enomoto paused, smirking a little, before deciding against saying 'scared shitless' to Iriya, "--when a piece of the comet fell. But when someone went to look at the fragment, a woman carrying a white jade stone emerged from it. The stone supposedly made their crops grow again and healed disease, so they treated the woman as a god and dedicated their harvest festival to her. They hung red lanterns up at their festival or set off fireworks to recall the comet, so the old names for the
Sargasso Vermelha in Japanese were '
Sekijōchin-boshi' or '
Hanabi-boshi'."
It was quiet in the nearly deserted cafeteria as both of them finished eating, the air conditioners straining in the background.
"Do you think it's important?", Iriya finally asked, still not quite making eye contact with him. "That both of us are connected to it."
"What do you mean by that?"
Her eyes went down to her empty plate, staring at it, then up to look him in the face. "Do you... Umm, do you think it's something like we were meant to meet eachother?"
"...Huh? Like fate written in the stars or something?" She nodded, her eyes drifting downward again, and Enomoto idly fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulling one out. "Well, in this day and age people don't really believe comets are omens of fate, good or bad. Really a comet is just a ball of rock and ice."
"Erica believes in it," Iriya replied.
Enomoto nodded. "People all have different beliefs. It might not be impossible it's true, but as to whether or not it's likely..."
"--...Have you heard of '
star names' before?"
"I can't say I have," he said. "Can I ask you this?" He pointed his finger at Iriya, prompting her to turn her gaze up just a little. "Do you think it would be better if that it was fated to be was the reason for everything? Would that make it easier?"
She seemed to be about to nod, he thought, but in the end she didn't answer.
'In fact there are stupid and cruel people in the world. Whether it's fate or not they're responsible for what they do themselves. A world governed by fate would be worse, in some ways.' It wasn't what Iriya needed to hear, so he stopped himself before saying it.
"Well, as I said, people believe in different things," Enomoto finished, retrieving his cigarette lighter and flicking it on. Iriya's head jerked up to look him in the eye again, a worried look on her face.
"...It's not permitted."
"Huh?"
"The military code of regulations says it's not permitted outside of posted areas, so... It's not permitted to do that...!"
He glanced down at the lighter in his hands and let out a chuckle, smirking and reluctantly flicking it off again and slipping it and the cigarette back into his pockets.
"...Your nose is bleeding again," Enomoto said, finding a packet of tissues in another pocket and handing it to her.
Iriya took it, trying to open it, her hands unsteady and her expression losing focus, but couldn't before she collapsed down onto her empty plate.
"Hey, Iriya...! Damnit,", he cursed, standing up.
She should have been able to handle a third level alert for this long, shouldn't she? Damnit, damnit...!
Enomoto sighed, ascertaining she couldn't stand on her own, and picked her up off the bench as one of the cafeteria staff, in camouflage fatigues, rushed over to the table.
"
It's fine," he said. "
I've got her."
"
Suisei."
"What?"
"
Suisei... It's how you say 'comet'."
Iriya sat in her infirmary bed, sheets scrunched up at her waist. The room didn't look much different than so much of the base, cramped and windowless, dominated by antiseptic white-painted walls. Next to the bed a monitor beeped away, showing her vital signs, returning now to mostly normal.
At the foot of the bed, Erica sat next to her, a downcast expression on her face that moved from looking at Iriya, down to her own hands only briely, and then back again.
"Yeah."
"Enomoto was telling me," Iriya continued. "About the comet... He said there was a story about the comet from where I was from... Do you want to hear it, Erica?"
She nodded. "Sure."
Erica sat quietly as Iriya retold it with eyes looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with them, the worrying crimson omen in the sky, the healing fragment and the alien god, and the festival in thanks to both of them, artificial red lights sent up into the sky in their honor, that the people of the town had celebrated for generations. When she had finished, Erica still didn't speak at first, gazing down at the tile floor.
"...There's helpful aliens too, huh?".
Iriya pulled her sheets closer to herself, not looking up from her hands, and it took her a few moments to finally answer as well.
"...Maybe there could be."
The monitor's steady beeping quickened and she felt short of breath, her vision going fuzzy as tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled to hold herself together and failed to, the tears begin to stream down her face and fall in droplets on the sheets, the backs of her hands, and her sleeves. When she tried to speak again it came out haltingly between sobs.
"Maybe... We're going to die--," her eyes stung and she had to close them, "--like this anyway so maybe... I can't... It would be better if it just ended already...!"
When she managed to look up and open her eyes again she saw Erica wiping her eyes with one sleeve, crying too.
"If you weren't... If no one even talked to me still... I would have already--"
"--I know," Erica said, her voice unsteady too. "I know... Maybe it would just... Just..."
"...You haven't been sleeping," Erica said after a moment, regaining just enough composure. Iriya shook her head.
"I couldn't... I couldn't, because of the alert..."
"I'm going to be flying the next reconaissance sweep. You're being moved to backup... Enomoto was telling them you couldn't fly like this."
"Enomoto was...?"
Erica nodded.
"It's going to be the night the comet appears, did you know?"
Shiina sighed, standing in her dimly-lit apartment kitchen, as she pulled the tab of her can of beer to open it, chugged most of it in one gulp, and leaned back against one of the walls, slumping. The ceiling fan slowly spun above her head.
"...Fuck this year."
She didn't smoke that often, at least not compared to Enomoto, but she'd probably go through a few cigarettes tonight too along with the beer, Shiina figured. She gulped down the rest of the can and walked over to the kitchen counter, tossing it on the countertop and looking down at the unusual contents of her sink.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her lighter.
"
Honestly, nobody needs to listen to those tapes," Enomoto had said. "
If anyone were to think they wanted to listen to them... Well, they'd be cured of that if they ever actually did listen. There's a transcript that will be filed anyway."
She flicked the lighter on.
In an apartment sink, dry except for the lighter fluid dousing the tangle of magnetic tape pulled out of the plastic cassette it had sat in it, the interception recordings for the 31st of August would be accidentally destroyed.
Notes: As far as I know in the present day it would probably be maintenance crews who would paint kill markings on an aircraft and not the pilots (a combat aircraft is after all an extremely expensive and sensitive piece of machinery, and something like the Black Manta especially so). This particular note is part of why I wanted to catalogue these because while it was better for the narrative to be loose with the facts I don't really like doing that without acknowledging it. Chronologically, the first part of the Night 4 story goes between the third and fourth scenes of this one.
Night 6 – original post link
–––December 24th, 2022–––
The machine fell silent, and 'Mayumi Shiina' put down her microphone and took a swig of her can of beer.
"Aaah... Karaoke with only two people really is a terrible party if it's not a date."
"I'm having fun, I guess," the woman she was sharing the booth with said. "I mean, it could be better, especially on Christmas. It's too bad no one else at the office wanted to come... You know weren't you seeing someone these days, actually?"
"He turned out to be a piece of shit," Shiina said bluntly. "Dating usually isn't worth it." She downed the rest of her beer and leaned forward, grinning a little. "What about you though, Eri-chan? Really it's not fair if you don't tell me a little bit too since I mentioned it to you. If there's any time of the year to bother talking about it, isn't Christmas it?"
"D-Don't ask me to talk about that, Senpai...!"
"Fine. Whatever."
Sakisaka sighed. "Wouldn't that be Valentine's Day or White Day anyway? ...Geez though senpai, you're terrible when you drink--." A smile crept onto her face. "I still remember that time during that school festival when you were so drunk you couldn't stand up. Weren't you still hung over the next evening when the level one alert got called?"
"I was over it by the next evening," Shiina said, making a bitter expression something like a smile.
"That was Enomoto's big operation, right?", Sakisaka asked. "We haven't had anything like that in a while. Oh, I mean, I'm glad that there's not a war on and I'm sure glad I haven't had to go undercover working at a school nurse's office again, but."
Shiina didn't think about it much – he was a colleague and, she supposed, a friend, but in the end they were just professional acquaintances, weren't they? And in a profession where things happen, at that – but it had been awhile since she'd spoken to Enomoto, now that she did think about it. About half a year now, was it? And anyway, it almost wasn't much to cry over given how he was. It was weird to think that there'd been a time where he'd chided her for her feelings about how things had gone with Iriya.
Plus, she had her own assignments to focus on. Maybe Fabafa this time, if the government wanted to get involved in that continent's business.
"Yeah," she answered. "It was, I guess."
"Wow, it's been what, three years now? Time really goes by, huh?"
Tonight at least though, she'd rather not think about work at all.
"I'm glad it's all over, honestly."
Neither of them had much more of an appetite for karaoke by now, the clock ticking down the last few minutes of their reserved time. Without much more conversation, they called it an evening and left, stepping out into the cold, the sky already dark, and parting ways. She could see her breath in the air as she walked.
She came to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for cars to pass, and, as she did, in front of her face, a few flecks of white began to fall.
A white christmas in Tokyo, in this era of changing climates even?
"God, how ridiculous."
–––December 31st, 2022?–––
Several thousand miles away
It was hard to say what day it was at this point, when no one was rigorously keeping track of time, so whether or not it was New Year's Eve... Well, who could say for sure. It had been a few months since they had arrived though, that was easy enough to estimate, and the temperature had cooled off, if only just a bit, so it was likely winter. That should also mean they were a few degrees north of the equator most likely, though not many given how warm it still was.
As happy as he had been to have fresh wild boar one of their first nights on the island, by this point the lack of variety had gotten a bit tiring. But, life on the island, hunting boars in the Everdark, fishing or gathering crabs from the beach and picking vegetables from the fields, or watching the stars at night from the roof and so on, was pleasant in its own way. It reminded Enomoto of the countryside where he grew up. Things of course had been a lot simpler and more relaxing before he joined the Self-Defense Forces.
For the occasion – even if there was some doubt, they had collectively agreed tonight was New Year's Eve – they'd really gone all out for the first time since their barbecue soon after arriving. There had been quite a spread for dinner, even with the limited resources of the island.
After he had finished, he'd decided to walk down to the beach, taking the flare gun from his hut with him.
"Ah, there you are this fine evening Mr. Enomoto!"
He glanced aside to see Sholmes, and Bushroot, Blumenthal, and Greenwood along with him.
"Yo--," he gave a lazy, casual wave, holding up the flare gun, "--I was planning on firing it off. As a substitute for fireworks it won't be much though."
"'Fraid that seems a bit wasteful," Greenwood said. "I don't want us burning up emergency supplies we can use the next time the comet appears."
"It's understandable," Enomoto replied. He smirked a little. "Well, that Hemlock fellow still seems to have enough ammunition to overthrow some small nation, doesn't he?" He turned to the girl. "Say, Blumenthal, would you like to do the honors for us?"
An uneasy look flashed on her face. "Uh... I guess I probably could? Like, if you really wanted..."
"I guess for you that's... Sorry."
She shook her head. "No, that's fine."
"...Senpai!--"
The group turned to look back up the hillside towards Vichyssoise Town, Bushroot narrowing his eyes and Sholmes letting out a sigh as they saw BBdori running down it, coming to a stop in front of them and catching their breath.
"--Couldn't you guys have waited up?!"
Bushroot paused, putting his hand to his chin in thought.
"...No?"
BBdori pouted and Enomoto stifled a snicker, asking them to, now that everyone had arrived, watch as he raised the flare gun and depressed the trigger.
A few seconds later, the flare burst above them, casting a faint red glow down on the beach below.
Day 8 – original post link
"--I suppose you'd probably rather not go up on your roof and eat," Enomoto said, the sound of pouring water from a thermos marking him filling two cups of instant noodles scavenged from the repository, the warm glow of the sun casting her indistinct vision golden through the open gaps in the walls of her hut. "Greenwood has some sort of ladder, doesn't he? I'm sure he'd lend it to us if it's just for an evening."
Acedia shook her head. "Y-Yeah... I'd rather just eat in here."
"Well, that's fine."
She clasped her hands together and looked down at her lap, the shimmering pinkish-white of her aura clearly outlining her body marred by the deep red ring looping around her wrist, and felt Phantom nuzzle against her leg in concern, moving her hands again to let him leap up on her lap and curl up. She wished she could stay in here all night, for that matter, just curled up the same way with her thoughts to keep her company even if she felt guilty about not doing more. But, if she wanted to still have a home to curl up in after tonight, she'd have to...
"How have you been holding up?", he asked.
"Umm... Well, you know."
'I've felt like the horse in the plinko board all afternoon since the rabbit came back' was probably going to mean nothing to him, so she left it at that. Enomoto nodded and, for a moment, both of them were quiet.
"Well, obviously this is a bit of a silly question and I can imagine the answer," he said, breaking the silence. "Have you ever killed anyone before?"
Enomoto's voice, especially whenever he talked about difficult things – and besides herself, she really hadn't met people with this much difficulty and angst in their backstory in real life before the Circinus – had a dusty and dry tone to it, like desert sand in a breeze. It fit, she thought, how harshly matter-of-fact he could be sometimes.
"Of course I haven't," Acedia said, shaking her head, pausing for a moment and letting her curiosity get the better of her, blurting out the question, "Have you?"
He smirked, she thought. This was the kind of moment where he'd probably smirk. "Do you want to know the answer to that?"
"...Oh, no, probably not. But, I'd understand it and accept it, either way."
"I was telling the truth when I said I'd never killed someone," he answered anyway. "Well, not with my own hands like we're thinking of with this business. My work wasn't really on the front lines in that way very often. I've been responsible for people dying, certainly... At any rate, do you believe you could?" Enomoto paused to let her answer, but nothing came out of her mouth. "Do you believe you could live with being that sort of person?"
Once again, her eyes were drawn to the cuff of hard light locked on her left wrist, it itself being an aura that she could see clearly. A twin of it was affixed to Enomoto's right, too.
"If... If everyone else has to, even I can try."
"But it's not going to be easy for you, is it?"
"Umm... It's probably not easy for anyone, right? Even for you I don't think you'd feel nothing. I mean, 'Major Character Death' is an archive warning for a reason..."
Acedia heard a wooden snap, the sound of two chopsticks being broken apart, and it stood out in her mind, echoed, then a rustling of paper as Enomoto stirred one of the cups of noodles.
"Do you think it would be easier for you to kill someone who chose to die?", he asked.
Snap. Stir. Phantom, somehow, picked up on the hint, and he lazily stretched out and then hopped off her lap, curling around her leg instead. Enomoto placed the other cup in her hands, and she felt its warmth on them. She said nothing.
"There's one more favor I want to ask from you..."
The sun's light had almost disappeared by now, the inside of her room darkly shaded, what were once fuzzy shapes out her window now an indistinct mass devoid of color. Even for the sun having set, she couldn't believe how cold it felt, the instant noodles that had warmed her up and soothed her slightly sore throat now long since finished.
The words spun around in Acedia's head. UFOs felt like a matter of course to her, something in the skies from another world that didn't belong, moving however they pleased – just like the comet. But to hear all this, a story so terrific and painful, it was just hard to take in even though, from Enomoto, she believed it had to be the truth as he knew it. She understood now why he felt so burdened. But, what he'd asked her to do...
"Mr. Enomoto, I... No, I won't."
She paused, wondering how best to say what she wanted to say. On a page, with time to think, that was fine, but no one had ever needed Acedia Blumenthal to be the one giving them a pep talk or a reason to go on living in real life before. Even if it took her a moment, though, this time it was her turn to interrupt.
"You shouldn't just think like that!", she blurted out. "I mean, even if you've made mistakes, even if you've done something wrong... People can change, can't they? They can try to make up for it and earn forgiveness and it doesn't just have to be by dying. Back on the ship, you tried to protect everyone and let yourself get shot to do it... You're still protecting me and helping me. All that was real, wasn't it?"
"You can't..." Acedia found herself struggling to keep talking, to keep her composure. "You can't seriously think the best way you can protect me is to let me kill you, can you?"
There was a long wait for him to answer. Finally, after a while, she felt Enomoto lift up her hat and lay a hand on her head, ruffling her hair.
"Honestly... Redemption is a lot harder in real life than it is in stories. Well, you could still be right, I guess."
He put her hat back on her head and walked towards the door.
"Mr. Enomoto, wait."
Sometimes, when she looked up at the stars and saw the roads that traced across them, she saw the points where they abruptly dropped away into nothing. She could never tell, really, if they meant anything at all, whether the ends of those roads were each the end of a life, someone's fate, or if they were the ends of fate, after which whoever walked them would find their own way.
"Hmm?"
"...No, it isn't anything. Maybe I'll talk about it later."
Notes: This one was kind of tough since I was writing it at the very last minute and I decided I wanted to do it from Acedia's point of view and not Enomoto's, which was the first time I'd ever written from a blind character's part of view, which was tough since visual descriptions are usually something I rely on a lot in writing. I'm not sure the central point of this one exactly works because it was only after the game had fully ended that I found out that part of Acedia's role power made her effectively immune to attempt incentives.
Become the Comet (Epilogue) – original post link
–––October 27th, 2019–––
Bank hard right and turn. The order pulsed down her arms to the neural link terminals in an instant and signalled the computers, spreading down wires to the control surfaces and pulling her plane and her lightheaded self into the maneuver, sharply cornering towards the target and the forces making her feel like the weight of the whole world had slammed down on her body.
The target was turning too. At two o'clock now. One o'clock. Heading for another merge. She trained her sights on it, reticule drifting on her heads-up display chasing it, trying to catch it.
"...I'll kill you." Her voice came out raspy between panting breaths. Time moved slower.
The green box contracted, enclosing the target as she heard the chime, a circle popping in on the display and contracting as well, positive lock, ready to fire, ignore the warning indicators and battle damage, "Fox three," click, click, she tapped the trigger twice in quick succession.
Two missiles streaked away, her auxilliary missile carrier drones long since exhausted leaving her with only internal stores left.
They contacted with the target and exploded, the alien, crystalline green object being shredded into a debris cloud shimmering emerald in the fire light.
The war was over.
If she could just get back then she'd--
Minutes passed.
Her head spun and ached, every possible alarm searing in her senses, pale green and blue in her displays replaced by red warning lights blinking in her eyes, chimes blaring in her ears, electricity crackling in her brain. She was dead tired, would have been slumped over in her seat if the unyielding acceleration didn't keep her pinned back, and the inside of her helmet visor was flecked with blood. It was still trickling from her nostrils and drops of it came up again when she couldn't help but cough.
She couldn't seem to stop the acceleration even retarding the throttles all the way. Pulling up hard on the stick or screwing her eyes shut and with all her will ordering the neural link to comply couldn't arrest the dive that was growing steeper. Her plane became an uncontrollable arc of light, like the comet.
Like Erica had.
Through it all, as the airframe shuddered from stress and the stick shook, she continued to grasp at the controls, so hard it hurt.
For so long, she hadn't cared whether or not the world ended. Everyone could die, herself included, and she would feel nothing. Now it was assured the world would go on and with that certainty, somehow, she was still afraid.
She was dizzy, her eyes fluttering open and shut. There was no way she was going to regain control like this. There was no way. She had known that from before she'd climbed into the cockpit for the last time.
'
I'll fight only for you; I'll die only for you.'
Iriya let her hands slip from the controls, aimlessly groping around for a switch, flicking it and severing the electric link between her mind and her plane. Even as tears welled up in her eyes again, she could still smile.
"Asaba... I did it, Asaba--," she whispered. "--...Can you see?"
...
......
.........
Notes: Half of this I wrote immediately after watching
Gravity somewhat inspired by a pivotal scene in it. Eventually when I was finishing my epilogue right before the awards board was going to close I thought about how in everything I'd written for Iriya up until then I'd never written combat so I ended up adding the first half of it.
Epilogue, additional parts – original post link
–––Present day–––
Circitus Island
And with that another war passed into the history books.
The volcano still rumbled and smoldered behind them as the sun came up out in the mists, over the steep cliffs and beaches of Maseon, forever lost to time.
"This place is a little worse for wear, isn't it?" one of them said, smirking. The Floral Meadow was scorched, smoke rising around them in plumes, the vegetation all consumed save for a few charred husks of treetrunks rimming it, stubbornly maintaining a little bit of their shape. "I suppose in the end it doesn't matter," he continued, "We'll be the last two to see it. I guess that's a distinction itself if you want to think of it that way."
He ran his hand over a blackened metal crate that sat in the middle of it all, and knelt, leaving the slate leaning against it and laying his fingers on the ashen remains of a sunflower head.
"Dawn comes," the other said, softly, as the first stood up. "May I trust you are satisfied, Mr. Enomoto?"
"Well, there's a few things I still would have liked to do here and certainly there's more than one thing I'd like to protect. I'm a professional and I had a job I was tasked with doing--," Enomoto paused, pulling his last cigarette out of the pack, lighting it, and taking a drag. He smiled. "--...But I understand better now what she meant about being willing to fight only for one person and die only for one person."
"Ms. Iriya, you mean?"
"Yeah. You know, I don't know I think she'd forgive me – hell, I don't know if I want her to – but I'd like to think she'll appreciate I did for Acedia what I couldn't do for her." He laughed a little. "She really has rubbed off on me too much. I used to wrap myself up in my shitty pride all the time and act too cool for this. I guess I appreciate it, though."
The sun crested the horizon and cast rays across the calm ocean below them.
"Are you ready, now?", the other asked. He looked like a teenager, Enomoto thought, clad in black clothes decorated with ochre feathers and with his green hair cut short save for two long strands that faded to turquoise, but given the circumstances of their meeting he was likely, in some way or another, ageless.
One more of the world's many wonders.
"I believe the others have all left before you," he continued. "And Ms. Blumenthal is safe, of that I can reassure you."
Enomoto lowered his cigarette and smirked again.
"I've been ready to go to hell for a few years now. Truthfully, I've lasted a lot longer than I expected."
–––Several weeks later–––
Chūō ward, Yamanojō city, Kupon
It was a crisp, beautiful spring day out, and a rare one she had totally free, but, nevertheless, 'Mayumi Shiina' was spending it in her small, sparsely-furnished apartment, kicking back on the couch flicking incessantly through boring, ordinary television channels. How the people who subsided on daytime television survived was mostly beyond her, though she supposed there were some informative programs.
She'd consider spending the day outdoors, but by this time of spring only a scant few pink petals were left on the cherry trees and the rainy season would soon be on its way. Instead she was left half-watching a mix of reruns and domestic advice shows for housewives while debating whether she could justify opening a can of beer at this time of day given she was off work.
There were still a few days before she'd have to go back in to the office, too. The government's interest in meddling in Fabafa had become more complicated lately, as far as she could tell due to some political shockwaves to do with the unexpected return to the country of an illegitimate heir to the throne or something of the sort, and that had meant a change of plans and a delay in her next assignment.
Evidently this heir was part-Kuponese though, and the higher ups seemed to find that quite interesting and potentially advantageous to whatever their position was supposed to be.
Just as soon as Shiina decided to get up and grab a beer out of the fridge, the moderators of one particular talk show going over the sordid details of the latest celebrity scandal as she stepped away from the television, she heard a knock at her apartment door and a muffled conversation going on outside it.
She sighed, knowing from experience that it was only very rarely that anything good came out of someone coming the door unexpected in the middle of the day. She cast a glance at her weathered metal baseball bat propped up by the door before she opened it.
When she did, she felt an odd air about the first person she noticed beyond it, that at first she couldn't quite put her finger on. The girl stood there, seeming nervous with her hat low over her eyes, and solemnly clutched a manila envelope in her arms.
"...We haven't met somewhere before, right?"