Return to Serenity Pt.1

November had passed, and now December loomed. The Jaegers were either completed or near completion, save one: The second Gipsy Danger's assembly was postponed due to a technical error; although the error has since been corrected, assembly was expected to finish by March 2026. However, since two functional – though uncompleted - Mark 6 Jaegers have arrived at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the delay did not cause much concern.

Many PPDC personnel had planned to take a holiday vacation, and Mako Mori was no exception: she was returning to her home village; with her went Raleigh. Marshall Hansen gave them the entire month and half of January to spend, but they decided to leave on the 10th of December.
Raleigh checked his personal belongings as he packed: clothing, toiletries, medication and finally memorabilia of him and Yancy. Half a decade had passed since the day they were forever separated, yet he could not forget that unfortunate day.

Mako came to his room to help him pack; she was happy. Raleigh reflected on how she brought him back to life, how he had nearly forgotten about Yancy and the rest of the world, and how happy he was being around Mako. When Mako was not looking, Raleigh returned the photo back to the wall. He knew that it was no use to dwell on the past.
"Goodbye, big brother," said Raleigh. As he left the room, he fancied that he heard the words "I'll always be with you, kid," ring in his head. He shrugged; it was just a figment of his imagination.

To escape the hungry public eyes, the couple went not to the airport, but instead traveled by a PPDC owned VTOL aircraft. The plan was to drop off at the Tokyo Shatterdome and travel by private jet to Tanegashima.
The day was cool and grey as they walked to the tarmac, joined by many others, Mako felt a chill in her heart. After her parents had died, her extended family cared not for her: they did not weep when she lost her parents; they gave her little more than their condolences after Onibaba was killed, and they turned their back on her after she was adopted. But she obliged to their wish that she would visit them; a wish expressed on a letter sent after the Kaiju war.

The couple made their way to the aircraft; it was scarcely bigger than a private jet. They sat in their seats, ready for the three-hour flight to commence. The aircraft took off vertically high into the sky.

Raleigh slept, and in his dream, he saw a peaceful village – one he had seen before, but had never been to. And then he saw a familiar girl playing in her backyard. He heard the sound of hammer and anvil nearby. It was then that he realized the dream was a recollection of Mako's memories he had absorbed in the drift. He heard someone speaking Japanese on the radio; he knew enough to know that this was Mako's memory of K-Day, the first day that changed her life.

The images shifted. Raleigh now saw the little girl, now wearing blue, in a big city, seemingly worried about something. In her hands were two red shoes proffered to her by her father. The man, dying of cancer, came to Tokyo with his family, seeking for a cure; and when he found it not, a pair of shoes he bought for his young daughter as a parting gift, though he did not tell her the purpose to darken her day.
Now he kneeled down to hold his daughter's shoulders in his hands, reassuring her that they were safe from the Kaiju: a lie made to comfort a frightened child. Then the alarms sounded, and the child was separated from her parents; Raleigh could hear their voices crying out to her, telling her that they would find her. But the girl was lost in an unfamiliar city, now attacked by a monster.

The images shifted again. He now saw a black man in military uniform; he recognized the man as a younger Stacker Pentecost, signing adoption forms while enduring comments from the child's extended family.

Raleigh Becket woke up to the sound of the pilot announcing their arrival at the Shatterdome. The Shatterdome, which had been sold to a private buyer in 2024 and had since been bought back, was now suffering a similar fate – being turned to a museum. Raleigh had an odd feeling of nostalgia as he and Mako were escorted from the landing platform to the streets outside.
Raleigh had been to Tokyo before the Kaiju War. He remembered the majestic city; the colorful, bright streets and buildings. But the city now lying before him was something even more: here he saw a futuristic city, one incredibly lofty and bore no resemblance to the one before the Onibaba Incident. The white city was bustling, busy with activities. Raleigh saw streams of cars passing the wide streets; he saw towering skyscrapers, their windows glistening in the late morning sunlight; he saw vibrant display screens brighter than the ones at Hong Kong; he saw the docks, the immense structures that harbored countless tall ships.

Mako flagged down a taxi and they went to the airport; she was in no less awe of the rebuilt city than her boyfriend was.
The airport was no different from the rest of the city: it was spotless and it housed many planes. The city was, in Raleigh's point of view, more beautiful than many walled countries inland.

Their flight took off at noon, and after a few hours, they landed in the small airport on the island. They arrived at the village in the afternoon; it was little different from the village Mako had left nearly ten years ago. Raleigh had vicariously been in the village before by drifting with Mako, but to stand in it was an entirely different thing. The village was peaceful, the air was clean and he could hear the sounds of birds chirping nearby; the fields were green and lush; the sky was crystal clear; and he could smell a fragrant drought of air flowing with the wind. While the metropolis of Tokyo held him in awe and wonder, the little village in Tanegashima filled him with comfort and peace: he felt that after long years of war and death, here was a place he could finally rest – where he could be at peace, a return to serenity. The weight of their baggage troubled them little.
They hiked the small hill on top of which several houses lie, including one that had once been Mako's. Many of those houses were now the abode of her extended family: her grandmother, her uncle and aunt, her cousins and their children. Mako knocked on the door of the closest house.
The door opened and they were greeted by a middle-aged Japanese woman who then ushered them inside. She led them through small, rustic-looking hallways into a room behind white sliding doors. The house reminded Raleigh of abodes he had seen in old Asian period films: apparently, this house was made to invoke that atmosphere. And the room they were now in was no different – a small square room, at the midst of which lie a single long rectangular table, hugging low to the floor. Surrounding the table was a congregation of four adults, three children, and an old lady whom Raleigh knew was Mako's grandmother.

They gave the heroes a warm welcome and a warm drink, then the old lady beckoned them to sit opposite to her, and the woman who greeted them was to sit by her side. She then asked them about their lives and wellbeing, and then they praised them for their deeds.

Raleigh did not like it; that the people who once ostracized Mako would now have her in welcoming arms; that the mouths that gave her scorn now gave her flattery; that they saw worth in her only now that she saved their world. But if Mako was not bothered, then who was he to think differently?

As the adults talk for hours, the children, along with Raleigh, were left out of the conversation, and are weary of hearing matters they had no say in. A child, no older than six, leaned closer to Raleigh and spoke to him. Aside from his accent, Raleigh was fluent in Japanese, and knew more than enough to converse with the boy.
"Did you and she really pilot a Jaeger?" whispered the boy; wonder filled the child's eyes as he spoke to one whom he regarded his hero.
"Yes, we did," replied Raleigh. The child's excitement was palpable, but before he said anything, he gave a quick glance at his mother, and sheepishly said to Raleigh, "Maybe we should talk later. By the way, my name's Isao."

It was 5:30 when they finished talking, and the children went outside to play. Isao tugged Raleigh outside the house and under the shade of an alder tree; Raleigh could see the two other children under the tree. They urged Raleigh to sit beside them. "These are my cousins: Akiko-chan and Ayako-chan" said Isao, pointing to the two girls. Under the shade of the alder tree, the children talked and played, as was their wont, but for the most part they asked Raleigh many questions about the Jaegers and the Kaiju.
"Were they really as awesome as in the movies – the Jaegers, I mean?" asked Isao.
"Oh yes," answered Raleigh, "Yes they were."
"And the Kaiju?" he pressed, "Were they really as big as mama and papa told me?"
"Oh they were big, mean, nasty monsters alright," said Raleigh, "Of course, while we don't mean much to them; it's like fighting a storm, but when you're inside a Jaeger, it's different: when you're in a Jaeger, you feel like you can fight that storm and you can w- oof!"
As Raleigh spoke to Isao, he did not notice Akiko sneaking behind his back and jumping on him. The four-year-old laughed as others joined in and tickled the much bigger Ranger. Then they stopped and continued asking him questions. "Can you tell us any stories?" said Ayako, the eldest child.
Her request was obliged: Raleigh told them stories of his recruitment, and his fights as a Ranger when the Jaeger program was still in its heydays. He told them stories of pilots who had given their lives to their duties, he told them of Hong Kong and The Breach. The children listened increasingly intently as his tales went nearer to the end – to the Battle of The Breach.

Mako came walking to the group, "Kids, your mothers said it's getting dark soon," the children scurried home. They idolized her as much as Raleigh; and what greater surprise could there be than to discover that the left-hemisphere pilot of Gipsy Danger was their own Auntie Mako?

"This big baby too," said Mako, you're coming with me, Raleigh."
"My grandmother gave me my house back," she added, "It's the one further up the hill."
"Are you okay with all this?" asked Raleigh, his face full of concern, "Did everything go as well as you expected?"
Mako smiled, "Everything went better than I had expected. Don't resent my family, Raleigh, they have decided to make up for what they had done in the past."

The two walked to through the rest of the village, greeted by friendly faces who not only greeted Mako as a celebrity and a hero, but also as an old friend. They reached the house as the light began to fade. Raleigh took the time to appreciate the beauty of the island: the sun sinking into the horizon, its orange light bathed the serene landscape; beyond, he saw the sea glimmer crimson under the sunset; he saw the clouds shine red and breaking the light into many wonderful colors that danced like living rainbows. The village was not far from town, but little noise and pollutant came to affect its tranquility. Raleigh wished the holiday vacation were indefinite.

The house was cozy and warm; Raleigh noted that it was well kept, as if the owners had cleaned it yesterday. "Aunt Kayo comes here often and tidies the house," explained Mako, "She was rather attached to my father."
Mako ran her hands along the walls, then the bookcase, then the stair's handrail, then the family photo in a frame on her desk in her old bedroom. She allowed a moment's time to cherish the past, and then she put it behind her: the past was not for her to dwell on. Then she felt Raleigh's arms around her shoulders.
"Care to show me around?" he asked.
"I'm sure you know the way around here well enough," she replied. Verily, Raleigh indeed knew his way around; he vicariously guided himself through Mako's memories around the house and was surprised to find that everything was exactly the same as in the memories. He walked to the living room and saw, on the wall, an elegant sword set in bejeweled scabbards; he recognized it as the first sword Mako had forged with the help of her father. It was a far cry from the ingeniously designed chainsword she had integrated into Gipsy Danger's arm, but was marvelous nonetheless.

"Your aunt must have been very meticulous in cleaning and putting things in place," he said.
From upstairs, he could hear her voice reply, "Yes, she truly was."

They slung their baggage on the bed and helped each other unpack. Mako stowed their clothes in the empty wardrobe, in which her parents' clothes once hung. When the unpacking was finished, Raleigh went to the bathroom to wash his face along with the weariness shown in it while Mako proceeded to set up her laptop on her mother's makeup table. They heard the phone rang.
"I'll get it," said Mako, followed by sounds of footfalls. Raleigh could hear her speaking Japanese to the caller, but the bathroom door muffled the words and he could not make anything of it.

"Grandma's invited us for dinner," said Mako once Raleigh emerged from the bathroom.
"Then what are we waiting for?" he said. He was hungry: he had missed lunch, and he had climbed two hills that afternoon.

Mako revealed that her family had given them two bicycles, which were now in the shed outside the house – the shed that had once housed Massao's tools. They raced to the house, riding their bicycles; Mako, knowing the land well, arrived first and Raleigh followed not far behind. Kayo – the woman who had greeted them at the door earlier that day - stood waiting for them, and led them inside once again. The dining room was the same room as the one they sat inside for hours earlier that day.

Raleigh did not remember much of what happened at the dinner, for he ate busily; but he remembered the children asking Mako and him more questions about the Jaegers and the Kaiju.

After a few servings and a few more gulps of liquor, they excused themselves from the table – from the overly inquisitive children. They rode their bicycles to the top of the hill, close to their house. They set themselves down on the ground and looked up at the sky; it was clear, and stars shone brightly. They lied there on the ground, untroubled by the cool air.

"Do you think we will ever contact a friendly species from the stars?" asked Mako, remembering that there was once a space center on the island, though the center had fallen into disrepair after it was converted into a failed PPDC outpost.

"Who the hell knows?" said Raleigh, passing a can of beer to Mako

Raleigh produced an MP3 player from his pocket and handed one earphone bud to Mako. She accepted it happily: on the island, listening to music together was the closest thing to drifting. When she plugged the earphone in her ear, the stars seemed to wheel and swirl around her.

This chapter was intended to be much longer than this, but I intended to split it into two or three parts.