The first thing you notice when you first open your eyes is the starkness of the ceiling. It’s vast and daunting, reminding you of the incident that occurred before this ever happened — before you were rushed to a hospital.
Things never went your way. The estimation of casualties were far more than you initially counted due to your carelessness, buildings were destroyed, and a daikaiju slipped from your sight leading to more disasters.
You were never good with self blame, but it was something you were acquainted with.
“Don’t force yourself to move.”
It took every ounce of strength you had left to crane your head to look in his direction, seeing a frown on Gen’s features. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to you. He has always been like this—serious and disapproving, his sharp eyes reflecting a depth of concern that he rarely showed behind closed doors.
“You’re,” He stops himself, a crease forming on his face as he stares at you. It was all written on his face. “You should have stayed near the rear where I stationed you. But you rushed off, forced yourself to run in the middle of the battle, did more damage than intended, and got severely injured. You know where I’m getting at, right?”
It’s hard to fight back tears, hearing others reprimand how you were utterly inept during missions was something you can tolerate, but hearing it from your own partner, felt like a knife to the heart. You despised having to disappoint him, having to see that same look of exhaustion paint his face as he desperately fixes your mess.
“Do you know what the weight of your action bore? It affected everything and everyone. Being part of the Defense Force isn’t only about surviving, it’s about fighting kaijus, protecting civilians and minimizing damage as much as possible. But fuck,” He breathes out, shutting his eyes as a means to calm himself. “You’re so careless, so damn careless.”