Aftermath: 50 - And Then The End is Known

Together, they look out at the sky, over the land, as if from the cockpit of a Jaeger.

Chapter warnings: Realistic depictions of neurological, physical, and bureaucratic trauma. War. Grief. Death. Mental illness. Regular illness.

Text iteration: Witching hour.

Additional notes: None.

2035 (Fifty – And Then the End is Known)

Absolution, when it comes, comes from Mako. Hermann sits with her on a wooden porch, attached to the second level of her home. Raleigh is inside, making dinner. Newton, extremely popular with Hideo and Sayaka, is presiding over Homework Time. 

Mako sips a colored drink and shows him photos from Sayaka’s first science fair. It occurs to Hermann that the girl looks very much like Mako—not so much her features, but her upturned face, her expectant expression. When Hermann points this out, Mako puts the photos down. She closes her eyes, tightly, gripping her drink. 

“Mako,” Hermann says, gently. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Mako whispers. She opens her eyes, tucks her chin, and smiles at him through tears. “I just had a thought, and it surprised me.”

“I know the feeling,” Hermann says dryly.

“Not that kind of thought,” Mako says. “I remember when you told me that we might have been co-pilots, if not for Raleigh. You were the only one besides me with any training.” She wipes her eyes and continues. “But in the end, we formed a partnership all the same. And look at what we’ve done. Look at where we are. Look at who we saved.” She looks at the picture in her hand. “Sayaka and Hideo,” she says. “Ourselves. Raleigh, from a life of wandering loneliness and despair. Newt from more and worse. You and I. We did that. Alone, but also together.”

Hermann feels his own eyes burn. 

“He would be so proud,” Mako says, looking at the picture of her daughter in her hands. She shuts her eyes tightly, struggling with the words. “He would be so proud that I didn’t make the same mistake twice.” 

“Yes,” Hermann says. “I believe that’s right.”

“Dr. Lightcap, too, would be proud of all of us. You I think, though, most of all.”

“Me,” Hermann says, taken aback.

“Because you rescued Newt,” Mako whispers, “Newt, whom she loved best of all of us. But mostly because you made him happy.”

Hermann wipes away a tear. “It seemed, at times, so unlikely,” he confesses.

“I know it did,” Mako replies, taking his hand. Together, they look out at the sky, over the land, as if from the cockpit of a Jaeger. Not toward the breach but toward the glitter of San Francisco. The city shines in the light of early evening.

“We’re happy,” she whispers, squeezing Hermann’s hand. “All of us are happy.”