At ten years old, Jongin watched with the rest of the world as the first Kaiju hit the ground and took out one of the biggest cities in the United States. He and the rest of the children within the orphanage swarmed around the rusty TV, a product of the 2010’s that the caretaker never got around to replacing, and stared with wide eyes as the newscaster let out a terrified, high-pitched scream and ran. Jongin was too shocked to cry as he watched with fascinated horror as the Kaiju swiped through skyscrapers as if they were made of paper, the city turning into its giant sandbox. The room was silent save for the booming sounds of the Kaiju and the screams of the people within the city.  It wasn’t until the caretaker came running in, face red and mouth yelling for the children to go back to their rooms that any sound was made at all. It was as if the dam burst and suddenly, the children were screaming, screaming in fear, screaming in pain, but maybe also screaming for those who were unable to scream for themselves within the torn city. As the children left, one by one, Jongin sat in the corner of the room, knees hugged to his chest, and cried.

When the news of the first Jaeger being able to take down the Kaiju first broke out, Jongin was huddled in front of the Emergency TV in Downtown Seoul. He had found a home within the community of homeless families living in the middle of Downtown after the orphanage closed, and now lived off of the rationings of dried meat and bricks of bread. The scene was eerily similar to that of a year ago, when the first Kaiju landed. Jongin and the rest of the terrified city watched as the Kaiju let out an eerie roar, tail thrashing and head swinging. There was blue blood everywhere, spilling into the ocean at an alarming rate as Jongin watched with awe as the large Jaeger grabbed at the monster’s neck and squeezed. It was unbelievable, a scene right out of the 2000’s sci-fi action movies that the orphanage used to put on every Thursday night. It seemed as if the whole city was holding its breath, the silence suffocating as millions of eyes refused to waver from the scene in front of them. After seconds, minutes, maybe hours of tense watching, the Kaiju finally fell. Jongin laughed with the rest of the world, tears streaming down his face as he hugged the strangers around him with abandon. Suddenly, the world was given the luxury of the smallest sliver of hope. Now, the human race could be something more.

As soon as Jongin reached his fifteenth birthday, he signed his life over to the Jaeger program. The world had nothing more to offer him than five to ten work days on the defences around the city, and manual labor had never been Jongin’s interest. The Academy quickly discovered however, that Jongin had a very unique fighting style, very street oriented with little finesse.

It was very effective. It was also very hard match.

From day one the Commander and his team watched him, and even the trainees soon realized that the awkward, idealistic teenager who walked through the Academy doors and declared that he would become “the best Jaeger pilot ever” intended to keep to his promise. Jongin climbed up through the ranks quickly, surpassing even the most seasoned trainees, landing himself into the number one spot within the first six months of training with little regard for anyone elses’ opinion. Rumors spread quickly through the Academy quickly, whispers of a super soldier program, links to the mafia, training in America. Through it all, Jongin did not waver, head as tall as it had been when he arrived. In the end, he knew it would be worth all the sacrifices and more.

The only part that Jongin regretted about joining the Academy was all of the ing bookwork involved.

After grabbing a mug of coffee from the cafeteria (it seemed to be the only drink that they had in abundance), Jongin walked into the library, a tiny thing hidden in the corner of the Academy as if the architects didn’t want to give away that Jaeger pilots weren’t just naturally gifted with amazing fighting skills and knowledge of the world. With eyes half open and hoodie covering half of his face, Jongin plopped himself down into one of the closest chairs and promptly lay his head on his book, unaware of the slightly confused eyes that were staring at him from across the table.

After ten seconds of contemplating if it would be socially acceptable just to fall on the floor and sleep for a few days, Jongin slowly lifted his head off the table with a groan and opened his eyes in an attempt to seem more awake. However, he was really not expecting to see a small boy sitting across from him bent over a journal.

(what happened next was pure embarrassment on Jongin’s part, which he blamed solely on his lack of human interaction in the past six months.)

“Holy -- ,” Jongin squeaked in surprise, tipping back and flailing as he tried to regain his balance on the falling chair. Of course, the world really didn’t want to save his that day since he found himself on the floor anyway with a developing bruise on his and a concerned boy standing over him. ohmygod this cannot be happening to me. what the . it’s too early for me to have lost control of my limbs why do you hate me world.

“Um. So, are you okay?” The boy blinked at him in confusion, waving a hand over his face when Jongin chose not to respond. Instead, he stared at the wall in front of him in hopes that the whole library would just disappear and that this was all some really horrible nightmare.

(it wasn’t)

“You know, staring at the wall isn’t going to make your problems go away. I’ve tried.” Jongin just blinked and slowly pulled himself up from his sprawled position on the floor, refusing to make eye contact with the other people around him, namely the boy who still would not go away.

“You know, for a top trainee, you’re really clumsy.” Jongin turned his head and glared at the boy, taking pleasure in the fact that he was quite a bit taller than the odd stranger. Slowly and deliberately, Jongin pulled up his chair and settled himself into it once again, continually glaring at the floor like it owed him some life debt. Shrugging, the stranger turned back to his journal, giving Jongin the opportunity to get a good look a the trainee--or at least he assumed he was-- sitting across from him. It was odd though. Jongin had fought every trainee in the Academy and yet he didn’t recognize this one. Shrugging, Jongin turned down to read the title of the book he was supposed to be studying. He figured that the fight probably went by so quickly that he hadn’t really registered who the trainee was.

“I’m not a trainee,” said the stranger softly, breaking the silence with an odd twist to his lips that was neither a smile nor a smirk. Jongin spluttered, eyes wide in confusion as he looked up from his study of the author’s note,

“That’s what you’re thinking right? That I’m a trainee? I get that a lot.”

“I--well, I mean--you--you’re kind of--yeah.” the boy only chuckled, looking up to smile softly at Jongin.

“What do you do then?” Jongin asked semi-curiously, unsure of whether the stranger was trying to initiate conversation or not. He used his book as an armrest and propped his head onto his hand as he watched the boy across from him close his journal softly. Shrugging, the boy pushed his journal into a small bag that he had placed on the table,

“Stuff. Office work. Errands. Nothing super exciting like fighting people and coming back with a semi-broken body I assure you.”

“We have secretaries here?” Jongin asked, bewildered, as the boy laughed again. He chose to ignore the jab at his own profession in an attempt at being the better man. (that didn’t stop him from hating on the secretary-but-not-really-secretary in his mind)  

“No, I’m not a secretary. I just do the work of one.”

“Um. Okay.” Let it be known that Jongin was not known for his social skills for a very good reason. Grinning, the boy shook his head and stood up,

“For someone so famous around here, I wouldn’t have expected you to be so awkward,” commented the boy as he picked up his bag and turned to leave.

“Wait--,” the boy turned around, confused, only to see a matching confused expression on Jongin’s face. He’d never willing tried to approach someone before... Taking a deep breath, Jongin tried for a small smile and asked,

“What’s your name?” The boy paused, looking slightly shocked at Jongin’s attempt at something resembling friendship, before flashing him a brilliant smile, leaving Jongin slightly starstruck as he answered,

“Kyungsoo. My name is Kyungsoo.”

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