Fallen Wings

The morning sun rose quietly over the docks, casting golden hues across the waterfront. Inside the team's camper van, the atmosphere was a mix of quiet determination and exhaustion from the previous night's reconnaissance.

Lieutenant Fujimoto had taken it upon himself to shadow the aquacraft captain from the shadows. Disguised as an ordinary civilian, he trailed the man to his apartment complex in the neighboring district. From a discreet vantage point, Fujimoto kept a careful watch, reporting updates over comms.

"He's making calls," Fujimoto murmured through his earpiece. "Too far to hear anything, but he's clearly nervous. I’ll keep monitoring."

Back at the camper, the team split into their respective tasks. Emi, along with Agent Hirose, roamed the docks under the guise of curious visitors. They struck casual conversations with workers and vendors, subtly prying for any rumors or unusual activity.

Inside the camper, Kasumi Ito sat at her workstation, eyes glued to the multiple screens displaying drone and UGV footage from the previous night. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against her mug of now-cold tea. Each frame she reviewed felt like a puzzle piece just out of reach.

Emi returned to the camper after finishing her round of inquiries. Spotting Kasumi’s stiff posture, Emi decided to step in. Grabbing a fresh cup of coffee, she walked over to her supervisor.

"Here, Captain," Emi said, setting the mug down beside Kasumi. "Thought you could use a break."

Kasumi blinked, momentarily surprised, before giving Emi a tired but grateful smile. "Thanks, Honey-Chan. I’d say I’m fine, but..." she glanced at her tea, "I think this cup’s been empty for hours."

Emi chuckled lightly, sitting down across from her. "Any luck with the footage?"

"Not much," Kasumi admitted, rubbing her temples. "There’s a lot of activity on the docks, but nothing solid enough to tie it all together. It’s like knowing there’s a storm brewing but not seeing the clouds yet."

"Storms aren’t invincible," Emi said thoughtfully. "We just need to find the right gust of wind to expose it."

Kasumi looked at her, slightly impressed. "Not bad, Emi. You’re starting to sound like one of us."

Emi grinned. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

Their exchange was brief, but it reaffirmed the camaraderie that had formed over the past months. Emi had proven herself time and again, and moments like this—where she stepped up for her team—cemented her place within the unit.

Fujimoto adjusted his cap, keeping his head low as he trailed the aquacraft captain from a safe distance. The man walked briskly down the street, glancing over his shoulder now and then. Once the captain disappeared into a nearby shop, Fujimoto slipped into the apartment building unnoticed.

Hacking into the door’s basic security system was easy. Fujimoto stepped inside, scanning the small space quickly. It was unremarkable—a typical bachelor’s apartment. However, as he sifted through the cluttered desk and trash can, a crumpled piece of paper caught his eye.

Unfolding it, he found a hastily written note:

"Dock 14, 11 PM. Don't be late."

Fujimoto frowned. So, they’re meeting again. Wasting no time, he slipped out of the apartment and returned to the camper van, where Kasumi and the rest of the team waited.

Kasumi tapped her fingers on the table as Fujimoto recounted his findings. "Dock 14, huh?" she said thoughtfully.

"It’s tonight," Fujimoto confirmed. "We need to move quickly if we’re going to catch them in the act."

Kasumi nodded, her serious demeanor taking over. "Here’s the plan. Hirose will head in first to scout the area and blend in. Emi and Fujimoto, you’ll follow later to monitor him and provide backup. We’ll stay connected via comms. Everyone needs to keep their guard up—we don’t know what we’re walking into."

The team agreed and prepared for their mission.

The air at the docks was damp and thick with the salty tang of the sea. The team parked their vehicle a short distance away, blending into the shadows of the quiet industrial zone.

Hirose, dressed inconspicuously, moved ahead, hands casually in his pockets. His practiced ease allowed him to slip into the area unnoticed. Emi and Fujimoto followed at a distance, keeping an eye on him from behind crates stacked near the dock.

From his position, Hirose caught sight of a group of men gathered by the shore. The aquacraft captain stood among them, flanked by several others, including a tall figure whose neck bore a tattoo of a burnt wing with the letter G.

Hirose crouched behind a rusted metal container, watching intently as the group conducted their business. Moments later, an aquacraft surfaced from the water. Its sleek, advanced design gleamed under the faint dock lights.

The craft’s hatch opened, and workers emerged, carrying heavy cargo onto the dock. One of the men opened a container, revealing several sleek, high-tech weapons.

Hirose’s breath hitched. What the hell are those? The weapons' designs were unlike anything he’d seen before—sleek, compact, and undoubtedly dangerous.

As he shifted slightly for a better look, he felt the cold, sharp edge of a saber press against his neck.

"You aren’t supposed to be here," a low, chilling voice murmured behind him.

Hirose froze, his pulse racing. The blade at his throat left no room for error.

Fujimoto crouched lower behind the stack of crates, narrowing his eyes at the scene unfolding by the shore. The man with the tattoo gestured toward the open container of weapons, his voice carrying faintly in the cool night air.

But Fujimoto’s focus was shattered when he spotted Hirose being led into the group, his hands raised and a blade pressed against his back.

"Dammit," Fujimoto hissed.

"Is that… Hirose?" Emi whispered, her voice tight with worry.

Fujimoto nodded grimly. "Be calm and don’t make any noise. I’ll keep an eye on this. You go back to Kasumi and report—"

Before Fujimoto could finish, a faint hum filled the air. Shadows passed over them, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"They’re above us," he whispered.

Emi glanced up to see figures hovering silently in the air, their silhouettes barely visible against the night sky. They descended quickly, surrounding Fujimoto and Emi in an instant.

"Stay calm," Fujimoto said quietly, his hand slipping into his pocket. His fingers found the disguised pen Kasumi had given him weeks ago. He’d initially scoffed at the idea, confident he’d never need a failsafe. Now, as he clicked the hidden button, he muttered under his breath, "Thank God I took it."

The distress signal was sent.

The men forced Fujimoto and Emi to their feet, binding their wrists with coarse restraints before dragging them toward the group by the shore.

"Found these two snooping around," one of the captors reported to the tattooed man, shoving Fujimoto and Emi forward.

The man with the burnt wing tattoo turned slowly to face them, his dark eyes narrowing as they scanned each captive.

"And who might you be?" he asked coldly, stepping closer to Emi, who glared defiantly despite her fear.

"Just some lost hikers," Fujimoto said with forced nonchalance.

The tattooed man sneered, clearly unconvinced. "You’ve seen too much." He turned to one of his men. "Take them inside the craft. We’ll deal with them later."

Back in the camper, Kasumi, Nakamura, and Saito stared at the blinking distress signal on their monitor.

"Fujimoto and Emi are in trouble," Nakamura said, her voice heavy.

"No doubt about it," Kasumi replied, her jaw clenched. "And if we don’t act now, we’re going to lose them."

"What’s the plan, Captain?" Saito asked.

Kasumi’s mind worked quickly. She glanced at the equipment piled in the corner and smirked. "We’ll create a diversion—smokescreen grenades. Nakamura, you’ll cover us from the camper with the drones. Saito, you’re with me for extraction."

"And if they have hostages?" Nakamura asked.

"We extract them first. No fighting unless absolutely necessary."

Under the cover of darkness, Kasumi and Saito approached the dock’s perimeter. A well-placed drone dropped smokescreen grenades into the heart of the enemy group, filling the area with thick, choking clouds.

"Go!" Kasumi barked as she and Saito charged forward.

The commotion caused chaos among the captors, who scrambled blindly through the smoke. Kasumi found Fujimoto and Emi first, cutting their restraints with a quick slash of her combat knife.

"Where’s Hirose?" Kasumi demanded.

"He’s over there!" Fujimoto pointed through the haze.

They found Hirose slumped against a container, clutching his side where blood seeped through his uniform.

"No time," Kasumi said, helping him to his feet. "We need to move!"

As they retreated, one of the enemies fired blindly into the smoke. The team ducked, narrowly avoiding the shots, before disappearing into the night.

By the time dawn broke, the team was back in Kyoto, Hirose being treated for his injuries. Emi sat beside him, her face pale as she replayed the harrowing events in her mind.

Kasumi stood before the PSIA director, her posture stiff as she gave her report.

"You acted independently," the director said sharply. "You should have informed us sooner."

"With all due respect, sir," Kasumi replied, "had we waited, my team wouldn’t have the intel we now possess."

The director sighed, rubbing his temples. "The military will take over from here. You’ve done well, but this is beyond your jurisdiction now."

As Kasumi left the office, she found her team waiting.

"We’re done here," she said. "But we did good. Rest up—we’ve earned it."

Emi glanced at Kasumi, a newfound admiration in her eyes. For the first time, she truly understood what it meant to work as a team in the face of danger.

In the dimly lit underground chamber, the masked man stood stiffly, holding a secure satellite phone to his ear. The air around him seemed colder, heavier, as the voice on the other end crackled to life.

"You failed," came the deep, gravelly tone, sharp as broken glass.

"My apologies, sir," the masked man said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to remain composed. "They acted quicker than expected. But I—"

"Enough excuses!" the voice roared, cutting him off. The masked man instinctively gripped the phone tighter as if it might shield him from the wrath pouring through the line.

"You’ve exposed us," the voice continued, quieter now but no less venomous. "The authorities will be circling like vultures. Clean up your mess, leave no trace."

"Yes, sir. I’ll—"

"And listen carefully," the voice growled, sending a chill down the masked man’s spine. "If you fail again, don’t bother coming back. You’ll be dead before you cross my threshold."

The line went dead, leaving the masked man staring into the shadows, his breathing uneven.

Clenching his fist, he turned to his subordinates. "Prepare the aquacraft. We're moving everything tonight. No mistakes this time."

The room buzzed with hurried activity, the stakes now clear to everyone present.

The military operation was swift and decisive. Troops stormed the docks under the cover of night, surrounding the smugglers’ base before they had a chance to flee. Armed personnel boarded the aquacraft, securing the illegal cargo and confiscating the smuggled weapons.

The masked man tried to escape amidst the chaos but found his path blocked at every turn. Trapped and with nowhere to run, he slumped against a crate, panting. He knew the end had come, but his hatred burned hotter than his fear.

"Someone’s going down with me," he muttered, pulling out his encrypted device. Quickly, he typed a brief message and attached the clearest images he had managed to capture of Fujimoto and Emi during the operation. With a trembling finger, he hit send.

"There," he said bitterly. "At least I’ll leave them a parting gift."

Moments later, the military burst into the room. Guns were drawn, shouts rang out, and the masked man dropped his device as he was wrestled to the ground. Metal cuffs snapped onto his wrists, and he was dragged away.

Far from the chaos, in an opulent and shadowy office, the leader nicknamed Black Wing leaned back in his chair, the glow of his phone illuminating his face. He opened the message, his cold, calculating eyes scanning the images of Emi and Fujimoto.

"So these are the flies that buzzed too close to the fire," he murmured.

His expression darkened as he scrolled through the report from his now-captured subordinate. The military had seized everything—his weapons, his operation, and his reputation were all at risk.

With a sharp growl, he squeezed the phone in his hand, the plastic and glass groaning under the pressure. Finally, with a loud snap, the device shattered in his grip, shards scattering onto his desk.

"Fools," he snarled, rising from his chair. His towering figure cast a menacing shadow across the room. "They’ll pay for this. No one interferes with me and lives to tell the tale."

Emi’s FDP had come to an end, leaving her with a profound sense of growth and accomplishment. The past three months had been filled with challenges, lessons, and moments that sharpened not just her skills but her mindset. She was eager to return to the academy, to reunite with her friends, and to show Kaito how far she had come.

After finalizing the clearance paperwork with Kasumi, they made their way to the specialized airship that Kasumi had rented from the SRU. It was a sleek, compact craft, perfect for the short journey back to the academy. Kasumi had decided to accompany Emi as a live witness to her FDP performance, and Fujimoto tagged along—though he insisted it was only because he had nothing better to do.

As the airship cruised smoothly on autopilot, the trio settled into an easy camaraderie. Kasumi pulled out a small bento box, sharing its contents with Emi and Fujimoto.

“Can you believe it?” Kasumi sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Three months, and I still can’t manage a proper date. My last one stood me up because his ‘goldfish was sick.’ Seriously, what kind of excuse is that?”

Fujimoto smirked. “Maybe he really liked his goldfish.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Kasumi huffed, then turned her gaze to Emi. “Speaking of romantic disasters, what’s this I hear about ‘Kaito-sensei’? You’ve mentioned him more times than I can count. What’s the story there?”

Emi flushed, her cheeks turning crimson. “It’s not like that! He’s just...an amazing mentor. I want to show him how much I’ve improved.”

Kasumi chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’d love to meet this ‘amazing’ Kaito-sensei someday.”

As the teasing continued, Fujimoto’s gaze shifted to the window. Something caught his eye—a series of small, orb-like objects hovering around] the airship. His eyes narrowed as they moved in synchronized patterns, encircling them.

“Uh, Captain,” he said, his voice tense, “we’ve got company.”

Both Emi and Kasumi turned to him, their laughter fading.

“What do you mean?” Kasumi asked, moving toward the window.

“Drones,” Fujimoto said, his tone grim. “They’re all around us.”

Before anyone could react further, the drones blinked with a sudden, synchronized red light—and then exploded.

The airship jolted violently as the shockwaves tore through its frame. Flames and debris erupted, engulfing the craft in an instant.