KNIGHT | type 2 - new life
@teslagravity
One of Tougou's surbordinates told him that one day he wouldn't be able to play keep-away for much longer, that he would slip up and make a mistake. Tougou would usher the lower ranking officer away with a command to complete some unnecessary debriefing and take the moment for himself to make his way down the hall and toward his office.
The pristine silver logo of the United Nations would be the first thing to look him in the face, and Tougou would ignore the pang of something that was surely not guilt that ran through him. He'd attribute it to the mechanical adjustments that reinforced his spine and then drag himself over to his desk. That familiar whiff of mahogany wood and steel would make Tougou pinch the bridge of his nose, but his eyes always drifted over to the familiar silver dog tags he left draped over an old photograph on the left side of his desk. Those were the proof of a life he lived well. Funny how this new life he'd made for himself was more of the same, save for arguably the largest piece missing: Lars. Tougou always went through this--spending a few minutes remembering how good things were before knowing that this current arrangement was better. If Lars wanted to save the world, Tougou would help him do it. First it was the communicator and the blade Tougou left with Raven. Then, it was the tip sent to the Middle East after Raven and more men of the UN uncovered Jin's body and tried to bring it back into custody. Tougou remembered the preparations, the intentions to study Jin before that all went straight to hell because that extraction team was killed. Tougou remembered the way his fingers cramped writing every single note and signing off on the documents.
There would be no inspection, just outright imprisonment. And then, Lars and his Rebel Army--Yggdrasil--had Jin, and now there was a target on that army's back. The new development left Tougou in a cross of being pissed off and not surprised in the slightest. "More work." Tougou muttered, picking up the silver dog tags. He held them up to the light, inspecting the dents and scratches across the familiar lion insignia. Tougou knew that slogan by heart, burned the damned thing into his brain, and now...
Tougou closed his fist around the tags before carefully slipping them into a small pocket of his armor. Next was the worn photograph of Tougou and Lars, fresh out of the first year of the military. That memory was burned into Tougou's brain too; the aches and the pains of training and the precise taste of the ice cold beer he had before the picture was even taken. It was a reward before rest day, but Tougou thought he might have been nursing some broken ribs; Lars always hit his opponents like a goddamned freight train, even when it was a friendly spar. Tougou carefully dislodged the photo from the old cracked frame, folded the picture into the still present worn folds and slipped it underneath the padding of his right arm. "I don't get paid enough by the UN for this." Tougou grumbled. He ran his gloved hand through his inky black hair and reached for the red and white helmet he kept on the right side of his desk. That may have been the only pristine thing in this office when he thought about it. His bosses were even kind enough to have the long white streak run along the path of the long scar near his right eye. The words of his subordinate crept back into his brain: "You know, Sir, one day you won't be able to keep your new life a secret. You'll slip up!" "How new is this life..." Tougou snorted, reaching inside the helmet to switch on the voice modifier. The modifier crackled to life and Tougou spoke, his voice no longer his, "If I'm still having to look after you, Lars?" He slipped on the helmet, and as the visor began to bring up his vitals he chuckled to himself.
Tougou grabbed his familiar but still heavier than usual blade and shut his office door behind him.
