The salty breeze from the ocean swept over the rocky cliffs where Shinji and Yu stood. The faint sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, mingling with the distant cries of gulls. Yu leaned against the rusted railing, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The golden glow of the setting sun painted the ocean in hues of orange and crimson, but her expression was far from calm.
"You've been quiet," Yu said, breaking the silence. Her voice was gentle, probing.
Shinji stood a few feet away, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. His eyes remained locked on the horizon, the muscles in his jaw tight. "Just… thinking," he muttered, his voice distant.
Yu frowned, turning to face him fully. "Shinji, you don't have to keep punishing yourself. What happened–"
Before she could finish, a deafening wail shattered the calm, the ground trembling beneath their feet. The piercing sound of the Kaiju alarm ripped through the air, echoing across the cliffs.
Shinji's head snapped toward the source of the sound, his entire body going rigid. Yu's breath hitched as she turned to the coast. Far out in the ocean, the water began to churn violently, massive waves rising as something stirred beneath the surface.
"Oh no," Yu whispered, her voice barely audible.
The surface of the ocean erupted, a monstrous shadow emerging from the depths. Water cascaded off its grotesque, armored form as it let out a bone-shaking roar. The Kaiju's glowing, spined carapace shimmered like a living nightmare, its massive claws slicing through the air as it turned toward the distant city.
Before Yu could react, Shinji bolted.
"Shinji! Wait!" she shouted, but he was already vaulting over the railing, landing heavily on the rocky ground below.
Her voice reached him, but he didn't stop. He sprinted toward the beach, the alarm wailing louder with each step. His mind honed in on the Kaiju, everything else fading away.
As he reached the open expanse of the shoreline, Shinji activated his quirk. The air around him shimmered, a faint blue glow enveloping his body. With a thunderous roar of displaced air, Saber Athena materialized in all its glory.
The Jaeger stood tall, its sleek, angular frame glinting in the fading sunlight. Its dual swords slid from their housings, humming with latent energy as Shinji locked into sync.
There was no hesitation. No pause. The Kaiju roared and lunged toward the shore, but Saber Athena was already moving. Shinji pushed the controls, the Jaeger surging forward with terrifying speed.
The first clash was devastating. Saber Athena's blade flashed in a deadly arc, carving deep into the Kaiju's left claw. The monster screeched, stumbling as glowing blue blood sprayed into the surf. Shinji didn't relent. With a burst of acceleration, Saber Athena drove forward, slashing again and again, each strike precise and ruthless.
From her vantage point on the cliffs, Yu could only watch in stunned silence. The way Shinji moved, the sheer ferocity of the strikes, it was almost inhuman. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion. He wasn't just fighting. He was dismantling the Kaiju.
The creature lunged with its remaining claw, but Shinji anticipated the move. Saber Athena twisted, dodging effortlessly before delivering a punishing strike to the Kaiju's side. The beast howled as one of its legs gave way, sending it crashing to its knees.
Shinji raised both swords high, the Jaeger towering over the wounded Kaiju. With a thunderous roar, Saber Athena brought the blades down in a devastating cross-slash, cutting deep into the monster's torso. The Kaiju let out a final, gurgling roar before collapsing into the ocean, its massive form sinking beneath the waves with a resounding crash.
Silence followed, save for the faint wail of the Kaiju alarm and the sound of the ocean reclaiming its prey. Saber Athena stood motionless, its twin swords still gleaming with the monster's ichor.
From the cliffs, Yu felt a mix of awe and dread knotting in her chest. She had seen Shinji fight before, but never like this. There was no hesitation in his movements, no sign of fear or doubt. This wasn't the boy she had grown up with. This was something else entirely.
The Jaeger dissolved in a flash of blue light, leaving Shinji standing alone on the bloodstained shore. His head hung low, his shoulders trembling as he caught his breath.
"Shinji," Yu called, carefully descending the rocky path toward him.
But as she drew closer, she saw him drop to his knees, his hands gripping his head. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his entire body shaking violently.
"No… no, no, no!" he muttered, his voice panicked and raw. "I can't… I can't stop…"
"Shinji!" Yu rushed to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. She reached out, but he recoiled as if her touch burned.
"I can still feel it!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "The weight of the swords, the blood on my hands… This isn't real," he muttered, clutching at his head. His fingers tangled in his hair, pulling as if to tear away the thoughts racing through his mind.
"Shinji!" Yu's voice rang out as she scrambled down the rocky path toward him. Her boots skidded on loose gravel, but she didn't stop until she reached his side.
He didn't seem to hear her. His eyes darted frantically across the horizon, scanning the ocean, the cliffs, the sky. "None of this is real," he whispered, his voice breaking. "It's just another dream. Another trick. I'm still there."
Yu dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Shinji, stop!" she shouted, shaking him lightly. "You're here! You're safe!"
But his gaze didn't focus on her. It passed through her, distant and haunted. "I didn't escape," he said, his voice hollow. "I'm still in the Breach. Still fighting. This... this isn't real. It's too good to be real."
Yu's heart clenched. "Shinji, you're not in the Breach. You're here, with me."
He flinched at her words, his body trembling as he pulled away. "No," he muttered, shaking his head violently. "No, no, no! It's just another test. They're showing me what I want to see, making me think I got out. But I didn't!"
His hands clawed at the sand as if searching for something solid, something real. His breath hitched, and tears streaked down his face.
"I'm still there," he rasped. "I never left. I'm still fighting, and every time I think it's over, I wake up and it starts again." His voice cracked, his despair bleeding into the night air. "I'll wake up, and you won't be here. None of this will be here."
Yu knelt closer, her chest tight as she reached out, cupping his face in her hands. "Shinji, look at me."
He froze at her touch, his wild eyes finally meeting hers.
"This is real," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tears in her own eyes. "I'm real. The Breach is gone. The Kaiju is gone. You're here, and you're safe. You made it out."
For a moment, he stared at her, his breathing ragged. His lips trembled as he whispered, "How can I know? How can I be sure?"
She leaned closer, her voice soft but resolute. "Feel the sand. Hear the waves. Smell the salt in the air. That's real, Shinji. Not a dream. Not a trick. Just real."
His gaze shifted downward, his hands sinking into the damp sand. He clenched it tightly, his breath catching as he felt the gritty texture beneath his fingers. Slowly, his body began to relax, the tension in his shoulders loosening.
"I…" His voice faltered, and he looked back at her, his eyes wide and lost. "I want to believe you."
Yu's hands tightened around his face. "Then believe me," she said, her voice trembling but strong. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."
Shinji closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. His body shook with silent sobs as he let himself believe, just for a moment, that she was right.
That he was finally free.
"It's over, Shinji," Yu said firmly, though her voice wavered. "The Kaiju's gone. You're safe. We're safe."
His eyes darted around wildly, unfocused. "What if next time it's not? What if I… what if I hurt someone else? What if it's you?"
"You won't," she said, gripping his shoulders. "You won't. You're stronger than this, Shinji."
He shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know what's real anymore, Yu. I can't trust myself!"
For a moment, Yu didn't know what to say. She could feel the fear radiating off him, the weight of his guilt crushing him from within. All she could do was pull him into a tight embrace, holding him as he trembled in her arms.
"It's okay," she whispered, her voice cracking. "We'll figure this out. Together."
The Kaiju alarm faded into the distance, leaving only the sound of the waves and Shinji's quiet, ragged sobs.
The Kaiju alarm's frantic wail slowly faded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie silence that was only broken by the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore. Shinji's shoulders trembled as he sat in the sand, his head bowed, tears still trailing silently down his cheeks. Yu sat beside him, her presence a silent anchor, holding him as he processed the fear and confusion that had gripped him in that moment of terror.
"Come on," she murmured softly, helping him to his feet. "Let's get back to the hospital."
Shinji nodded, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he took her offered arm. Together, they made their way back up the rocky path to where they had parked their bikes, Shinji's steps slow and unsteady. Yu kept a steadying hand on his back, her concern etched deeply in her eyes.
When they finally reached the hospital, the night air was cool and sharp, and the lights from the windows cast long, flickering shadows over the parking lot. Yu led Shinji to the entrance, pushing the door open with a quiet creak. Inside, the familiar antiseptic scent of the hospital greeted them, a stark contrast to the salty sea breeze they had just left behind.
They walked down the corridors, Shinji's steps hesitant and uneven. Every few moments, Yu would glance over at him, her heart aching as she watched the weight of his recent ordeal pressing down on him.
"Hey," she said softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's over, Shinji. You're safe now."
Shinji managed a faint, tight-lipped smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Is it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yu squeezed his hand again before leading him to the small, familiar room where they had set up his temporary bed. She helped him settle in, making sure he was comfortable before sitting down on the edge of his bed.
"Why didn't the alarm go off until the Kaiju was already there?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. "I thought there were measures in place for this kind of thing."
Shinji looked down at his hands, his fingers curling into fists. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I thought I was the only one who heard it. Thought I was losing my mind."
Yu's expression softened as she reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "You're not," she said firmly. "The alarm should have gone off sooner. Something's wrong.
Yu watched Shinji for a moment longer, her heart heavy with worry as she brushed a stray hair from his forehead. His breathing was steady, his face finally relaxed in sleep after the recent battle and the panic that had gripped him earlier. As she turned to leave the room, the door creaked open and Nezu stepped quietly inside.
Nezu moved over to the edge of the bed, his small eyes scanning Shinji's sleeping form with a thoughtful expression. "How is he?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yu's voice caught in her throat as she tried to hold back tears. "Exhausted," she replied, her tone strained. "Physically and mentally. I don't know if he'll ever be truly at peace again."
Nezu's ears twitched as he leaned closer, his gaze still fixed on Shinji. "We'll get there," he said gently. "It's just going to take time. And the right help. We also took care of the press and the police for you."
Aizawa joined them at the doorway, his expression serious as he looked over at Yu. "We need to keep an eye on him, make sure he's not isolated in his head," he said, his voice low and measured. "And we have to figure out why the alarm didn't go off."
Yu turned her gaze to Nezu, her voice soft but filled with concern. "Nezu, why didn't the Kaiju alarm go off until it was already there?" she asked, her eyes searching his as if hoping for answers.
Nezu looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "That's what we're trying to figure out, Yu," he said, his tone calm and steady. "The alarm should have activated as soon as the Kaiju got within a hundred miles. But for some reason, it didn't go off until it was almost on top of you two."
Yu's brow furrowed as she absorbed his words. "So it was like it just appeared out of nowhere?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Nezu nodded. "Exactly," he replied. "And even villains wouldn't risk tampering with the Kaiju systems, it's just too risky. Which means this isn't a regular breach. It didn't show up on the radar either like it just appeared on the beach."
Aizawa stepped forward, his expression serious. "So something or someone is bypassing the normal defenses," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "And that's not a good sign."
Nezu's gaze shifted between Yu and Aizawa. "We need to find out how this happened," he continued, his voice steady. "And why it chose this moment, why now?"
Yu's grip tightened on the edge of the bed where Shinji was sleeping. "It's like it's targeting him," she said quietly, her eyes flicking back to Nezu. "But why Shinji?"
Nezu's brow furrowed as he considered her question. "That's the million-dollar question," he replied, his voice serious. "There has to be a reason why this particular Kaiju appeared now, in this location, and not earlier."
Aizawa crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "And what about the Kaiju alarm?" he asked. "It didn't just fail, it seemed like it wasn't even activated until the last minute. That's not normal."
Nezu nodded in agreement. "Exactly," he said. "There's interference somewhere, someone or something is keeping us from seeing the full picture. And we need to find out who or what it is."
Nezu's expression grew more serious as he leaned closer. "We've seen Kaiju evolve before," he said softly. "Maybe they've developed a way to become undetectable, at least until it's too late. If that's the case, it changes everything."
Yu's eyes widened as she thought about what Nezu was suggesting. "That would explain why it just appeared," she said slowly, her voice trembling. "If it can phase in and out of detection…"
"Exactly," Nezu agreed. "And if it's true, we need to prepare for the possibility that others could do the same. We'll have to reassess our defenses and our strategies."
Aizawa's expression was grim. "Which means we need to act fast," he said. "We can't let another attack slip through undetected."
Nezu nodded. "We'll work with the best minds in the field," he said, his voice determined. "Together, we'll find a solution, whatever it takes."
Yu took a deep breath, her resolve firming. "We'll get through this," she said, her voice steady. "I promised Shinji."
Nezu gave her a small, reassuring smile. "One step at a time," he replied softly. "We're going to get through this together."
Before they left, Yu hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Have you seen the logs?" Her voice was tight with urgency. "In the first log, Shinji said it felt like that place was hunting him."
Nezu and Aizawa exchanged a concerned look before Nezu nodded. "Yes, we have," he replied, his tone serious. "It's part of what's worrying us, the logs are… unsettling."
Aizawa added, "Maybe it's true, maybe they are hunting him. We need to find out why."
Yu's grip tightened on the edge of Shinji's bed as her anxiety grew. "How do we make sure it doesn't happen again?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Nezu's eyes met hers with determination. "We'll figure it out," he assured her. "We'll find a way to protect him, and make sure he knows he's safe."
With that, the two of them turned and left the room, leaving Yu alone with Shinji as she tried to process everything they had just shared. She watched them go, her heart heavy with worry and the promise of what was yet to come.
Shinji woke later that night, his eyes fluttering open to the dim light filtering through the curtains. The room was quiet, the faint hum of the hospital machinery the only sound. He felt groggy, his limbs heavy, a testament to the exhaustion that had been weighing on him for weeks. He always seemed to be tired now, a relentless fatigue that never quite lifted, no matter how much he slept.
He hadn't slept more than a few hours on a good night, but he kept reassuring Yu that he was fine, that he was coping. It was a lie, one he told because he didn't want her to worry more, didn't want to add to the burden she already carried. As much as he wished he could believe it himself, there was always a nagging doubt, an edge of uncertainty that told him he wasn't really fine at all.
Shinji pushed himself up in bed, his back aching as he adjusted his pillows. He looked over at the empty chair beside his bed where Yu usually sat, her presence a silent comfort. She had been there every step of the way, even when he felt like he was barely hanging on. He missed her, missed the sound of her voice and the way she seemed to make everything just a little bit better.
But tonight, there was no one else in the room. No comforting presence, no soft words of encouragement. It was just him, alone with his thoughts and the quiet hum of the machines that kept him tethered to this place. Shinji let out a long, slow breath, his fingers tracing the edge of the blanket over his legs.
Everything had changed so quickly, and now he was left trying to piece together a reality that seemed more and more fragmented with each passing day. He had no answers, only more questions, and none of them seemed to lead anywhere he wanted to go.
He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly, as if that might help him find some kind of clarity. But all he could see was the shadow of the Kaiju, looming over him, the roar echoing in his mind. Was it real? Or was it just another nightmare, a twisted figment of his imagination?
Shinji let out a shaky breath and turned his head to stare at the ceiling. "Am I losing my mind?" he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur. "Or is it all just… slipping away?"
The silence that followed seemed to answer his question with its stillness, a reminder that he was alone in this struggle. There was no one else who could understand, no one who had been there, who knew what it felt like to be hunted by shadows that didn't even exist.
He turned onto his side, burying his face in the pillow. Maybe if he could close his eyes tight enough, hold on hard enough, he could make it all go away, forget about the Kaiju, forget about the Breach, forget about the fear that seemed to follow him everywhere.
But it never went away. It always lingered, lurking just behind his closed eyelids, waiting to pounce when he least expected it.
Shinji let out another deep breath, feeling the tears burn at the back of his eyes. "I just want it to stop," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I just want it to stop…"
For a long time, he lay there, listening to the soft sounds of the hospital around him. Eventually, his breathing grew slower, deeper, and he drifted off to sleep, only to be haunted by dreams that were just as real as the waking world, just as terrifying.
The next morning, Shinji woke feeling no less tired than when he had fallen asleep. The world outside his window was just beginning to stir, the first light of dawn creeping over the horizon. He pushed himself up slowly, his head pounding, and looked around the empty room.
He forced himself to sit up, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him. His gaze flickered to the door as if expecting someone to walk through it, Yu, Nezu, Aizawa, but the hospital remained silent, as empty as his thoughts.
Shinji took a deep breath, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His muscles ached, and he felt every inch of his fatigue in each movement. He stumbled toward the bathroom, leaning heavily on the walls for support. When he finally caught his reflection in the mirror, he barely recognized the person staring back at him, with hollow eyes, a face gaunt with exhaustion.
But as he looked closer, the reflection seemed to distort, a shadowy figure looming behind him, darker, twisted, a corrupted version of himself staring back with hollow eyes. Shinji's breath caught in his throat as he stepped closer to the mirror, the reflection warping with each movement he made.
"You were real?" he whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand, feeling the cold glass beneath his fingers. The shadowy figure in the mirror reached out in response, its fingers curling around his own as if trying to pull him in.
"No," Shinji breathed, his voice shaking as he took a step back. "This isn't real… it's not real."
The reflection in the mirror continued to mimic his movements, moving closer and closer until Shinji felt trapped, trapped by his own reflection, by the shadow of what he was becoming. He closed his eyes tightly, willing it all away, but when he opened them again, the reflection was still there, just as haunting, just as real.
"Get out of my head," he muttered, his voice a desperate whisper. "Get out of my head…"
Shinji clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles white as he stared at his distorted reflection in the mirror. The anger inside him was like a fire, consuming him from the inside out. Without a second thought, he reared back and punched the glass with all his strength.
The impact was immediate, sharp, biting pain shot up his arm as the mirror shattered. Jagged shards exploded outward, some embedding into his skin, drawing blood. Shinji gasped as he felt the searing pain of broken glass slicing through his flesh, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the reflection.
The broken pieces of the mirror lay at his feet, a jagged puzzle of glass that still held his twisted image. And amidst the shards, there it was, the reflection, still smiling, still mocking him with those hollow eyes. Shinji could see the smirk even as his blood mixed with the glass on the floor, his hand throbbing with pain.
"Get out!" he shouted again, his voice breaking as he tried to back away, but the reflection followed his every move. The smile didn't fade, it seemed to grow wider, more sinister as if it was feeding on his fear and doubt.
Shinji's breath came in ragged gasps as he looked down at his bloodied hand, the cuts deep and angry. He felt the hot trickle of blood run down his fingers, but the pain was secondary to the fear that was rising inside him, fear that he was becoming what he saw in the mirror, that he was losing control, losing himself.
He took a step back, his body trembling as he tried to keep his eyes from straying back to the mirror. "It's just a reflection," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice wavering. "Just a nightmare…"
But the reflection didn't disappear. It was still there, still staring back at him, its eyes unblinking, unchanging. Shinji clenched his jaw, his eyes filling with tears as he reached out to brush a piece of glass off his shoulder, wincing as the pain flared in his hand.
"Why won't you go away?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Why can't I get rid of you?"
The reflection just smiled back, its expression mocking, as if it knew something he didn't. Shinji's heart was pounding now, the panic rising in his chest as he felt himself losing grip on reality. He took another step back, his breathing shallow, his vision blurry with tears.
"I don't want to be like this," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I don't want to be this person…"
With a sudden, desperate cry, Shinji turned away from the mirror and punched the wall next to it, feeling the impact shake his bones. The sharp pain in his hand was nothing compared to the terror he felt, the terror that he was losing himself, piece by piece.
As he pulled his hand back, he looked at the blood smeared across his knuckles, the cuts still bleeding steadily. He could feel the hot sting with every heartbeat, and for a moment, he wondered if it was worth it, to feel something real, even if it was pain.
Shinji turned and stumbled out of the bathroom, leaving the broken mirror behind him, shards of glass glittering on the floor. He made his way back to his bed, his head down, his shoulders hunched. He could still see the reflection in his mind, still feel the weight of it, an ever-present reminder of the fear and doubt that seemed to follow him everywhere.
As he sat down on the bed, Shinji clenched his injured hand against his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He didn't know how to make it stop, didn't know how to make the shadows disappear. All he could do was try to ignore them, to push through the fear and the pain, even when it felt like it was swallowing him whole.
"Maybe I am losing myself," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "Maybe I already have…"
Shinji lay back on the bed, his right hand resting on his chest, blood trailing sluggishly from the cuts across his knuckles and palm. Tiny shards of glass still clung to the wounds, glittering faintly in the dim light. The pain was sharp, but distant, like it belonged to someone else. His fingers twitched involuntarily, smearing blood against his shirt, but he didn't care.
The shattered mirror in the bathroom felt like a metaphor he didn't want to examine too closely. He had punched it over and over, each impact shattering his reflection further until there was nothing left but jagged pieces on the floor. And still, it hadn't been enough.
The thoughts were louder now, screaming at him from every direction. He didn't deserve to be here. He didn't deserve Yu's patience or Nezu's optimism or anyone's belief that he could be fixed. He couldn't even control his own damn quirk.
He turned his head, staring at his bloodied hand. The crimson streaks dripped down onto his shirt, the dark stains spreading slowly. The glass embedded in his skin caught the light, a cruel reminder of his own fragility. He curled his fingers slightly, feeling the sting intensify, as if testing if he could still feel anything real.
The ceiling above him blurred as his vision swam, but the tears wouldn't fall. They never did. He let out a shaky breath, his chest tight and heavy, the weight of everything pressing down on him like he was still in the breach, fighting for every second of survival.
But there was no enemy to punch now. No kaiju to blame. It was just him and the reflection he'd destroyed, and he wasn't sure which one scared him more.
The silence of the room was oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of his uneven breathing. The blood continued to drip, a steady rhythm that felt like a clock counting down to… what? He didn't know.
And maybe that was the worst part.
The battle wasn't over. He knew that. But the question clawing at the edges of his mind was whether he even had the strength to keep fighting.
His right arm twitched faintly, the damaged nerves sending phantom signals that made his skin crawl. He stared at it, the arm that had once been whole, once been strong. Now it was a reminder of everything he'd lost. Not just in the breach, but in himself.
The ceiling blurred as his eyes burned with unshed tears. He clenched his fists, or tried to, at least. His right hand wouldn't cooperate, its movements sluggish and weak. The frustration bubbled inside him, hot and suffocating, until it spilled over into a strangled sound, half a growl, half a sob.
He wanted to scream, to hit something, to do anything that would make the weight bearable. But instead, he lay there, paralyzed by his own thoughts. The memories clawed their way back into his mind: Striker's arm being torn away, the Kaiju's acidic blood burning him like it was alive, the endless days in the breach where survival was the only thing that mattered.
His chest tightened, his breathing shallow and uneven. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the memories or the realization that they might never leave him. That the breach hadn't just taken his time, his strength, or his arm. It had taken him.
What was left? A body too broken to function properly. A mind too fractured to find peace. A life that felt like it wasn't his anymore.
He shut his eyes, but the darkness wasn't any kinder. The images were still there: Kaiju roaring, Striker falling apart, Yu's terrified face when he nearly lost control. He wanted to run from them, but there was nowhere to go.
Did it even matter if he got better? If he healed? Would anything he did now ever make up for what he couldn't do then?
The thoughts twisted and coiled in his mind, cold and sharp, until they felt like they were choking him. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste grounding him just enough to stop the spiral.
His breathing slowed, but the weight didn't lift. It was still there, pressing down on him, reminding him that the battle wasn't over.
But whether he could keep fighting it... that was a question he didn't have an answer for. And that terrified him more than anything else.