Inside the base was like stepping into a completely different world. Everything was, structured and purposeful built in a way that made even the city outside seem even more chaotic by comparison.
The base was decent sized, but was still large enough to house and train hundreds of Marines comfortably. Paved paths connected the various buildings, and Marine soldiers were littered everywhere
The main parade ground sat near the center of a large open field where Marines assembled for drills and inspections. Right now, several groups were running through exercises, while their Instructors barked orders. And even some of the newer recruits practiced obstacle courses, did pushups, or sparred in designated training rings.
Off to the side of the parade ground, Benimaru could see another group of recruits running laps around the perimeter, their faces red and sweating despite the relatively cool afternoon air. Some were carrying heavy logs on their shoulders, stumbling under the weight as drill instructors shouted encouragement or more accurately, insults, at them to keep moving.
Surrounding the parade ground were the operational buildings. The barracks were long, practical structures designed to house personnel. Some clearly for officers with better upkeep, others plain and utilitarian for enlisted Marines and recruits.
The armory was a reinforced building with guards posted outside. Through its windows, Benimaru could see racks of weapons organized neatly. Next to it was the equipment depot where Marines collected uniforms, gear, and supplies.
The mess hall was a large building with smoke rising from its chimneys, the smell of food preparation drifting across the base, with Marines filtering in and out constantly.
There was a medical building marked with a red cross, administrative offices for paperwork and logistics, a communications building with antennas on its roof, training facilities including shooting ranges and indoor practice areas, and maintenance workshops for equipment repair.
Guard towers stood at intervals along the walls, and Marines walked regular patrol routes to keep the base secure.
But then after a while he found the building with the blue roof easily enough. It was a modest two-story structure near the entrance, clearly designed to be the first stop for new arrivals. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The interior was simple but functional with a few wooden benches along one wall, a desk at the far end with filing cabinets behind it, and various notices and regulations posted on the walls. Behind the desk sat a woman who looked up as he entered.
She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, with dark brown hair pulled back into a neat bun that kept it out of her face. Her Marine uniform was crisp and perfectly pressed, the kind of attention to detail that suggested she took her job seriously. She had warm brown eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners when she smiled, and a few freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. A pair of reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck, and she had a pen tucked behind one ear.
"Good afternoon," she said with a friendly smile, setting down the paperwork she'd been reviewing. "Can I help you with something?"
"I'm here for recruitment," Benimaru said, approaching the desk and showed the paper Ryota gave him.
Her eyebrows raised slightly with recognition. "Ah, yes! Benimaru right? I remember the captain mentioning something about a new recruit." She stood and extended her hand across the desk. "My name is Takara Minami. I handle recruit processing and coordination for this base. It's nice to meet you."
Benimaru shook her hand. "Nice to meet you too."
"Please, have a seat," she gestured to the chair in front of her desk as she sat back down, pulling out a fresh form and her pen.
Takara then went on to explain the basics of the recruitment process while filling out his paperwork.
Training would begin at dawn every day with physical conditioning, combat training, weapons practice, and classroom instruction on Marine regulations and tactics. Meals were served three times a day in the mess hall. And that Recruits got two rest days per week on a rotating schedule.
She also went into the initial training period and explained that it lasted 9 months, after which successful recruits would graduate to full Marine status and receive their first posting. And that there were about forty recruits in his current training group.
She finished the paperwork and stood, grabbing a key from one of the drawers. "Alright, let me show you to your dormitory. Follow me."
She led him out of the building and across the compound to a long, two-story barracks building. As they walked, she pointed out various facilities and gave little fun facts about the base.
"This is the dormitory," she said as they entered. The interior was clean and had a long hallway with doors on both sides. "Men's quarters are on the left side of the building, women's quarters are on the right. So if you're worried about privacy, you'll be fine. There are communal bathrooms at each end, but they're separated by gender."
She stopped at a door about halfway down the hall and unlocked it. "This will be your room. It's small, but functional."
The room was indeed small, just enough space for a narrow bed, a small desk with a chair, a footlocker for personal belongings, and a tiny closet. A single window looked out over part of the training grounds.
"Your uniform will be delivered tomorrow morning," Takara said, handing him the key. "Make sure you're up and dressed by 0500 and be ready for training...Any other questions?"
Benimaru thought for a moment. "What should I do for the rest of today?"
"Get settled in, rest up. You've got a long few months ahead of you." She smiled sympathetically. "If you need anything, the administration office is in the main building, the tall one in the center of the compound. Just ask for me or any of the officers on duty... Welcome to the Marines, new recruit."
With that, she gave him a small salute and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Benimaru stood in his new room for a moment, taking it in. Then he dropped his duffel bag on the bed and sat down heavily.
He pulled out the origami swan from his pocket and set it carefully on the small desk, then began unpacking his few belongings. His clothes went into the closet. And his collection of paper swans he arranged carefully on the windowsill of his window.
He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, exhaustion finally catching up with him.
When he'd first found himself reincarnated into this world, joining the Marines had never crossed his mind. He'd never imagined there'd come a day when he'd willingly walk through these gates and wear their uniform.
But becoming a Marine was probably the smartest move he could make if he wanted to get stronger. And now that he was here, he'd take full advantage of everything they had to offer. He'd drain this place dry of every resource, and anything else he could get his hands on. The Marines would be his stepping stone, a means to an end.
Nothing more...
🚪KNOCK..🚪KNOCK...🚪KNOCK
Benimaru's eyes opened. He must have dozed off for a bit, the light coming through the window had shifted, suggesting at least an hour had passed.
🚪KNOCK..🚪KNOCK...🚪KNOCK
"Coming," he called out, pushing himself up off the bed and walking to the door.
When he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with a boy who looked about his age, maybe a year or two older. The first thing Benimaru noticed was his bright, electric blue hair, which was almost unnatural in its vibrancy. His eyes were the same striking blue, wide and energetic. He had a face that seemed built for smiling, and right now he was grinning so widely it looked like his face might split in half.
"Hey there!" the boy said with infectious enthusiasm, practically bouncing on his feet. "You must be the new guy! I'm Troy!" He stuck out his hand eagerly. "Troy Mizushima! I'm in the room right next door! Heard someone moving around in here and figured I'd come say hi! Welcome to the barracks!"
Benimaru shook his hand briefly, keeping his expression neutral. "Benimaru."
"Awesome! Nice to meet you, man!" Troy's grin somehow got even wider. "So, hey—I was actually heading to dinner with a couple others. You wanna come? Good way to get to know some people, y'know?"
Benimaru shook his head. "I'll pass. Not really interested."
"Aw, come on!" Troy leaned against the doorframe, unfazed. "You gotta meet some people eventually, right? Make a few friends? Can't just sit around in here being all moody and emo." He waved a hand dramatically. "Live a little! Cheer up!"
Benimaru let out a long breath, realizing Troy wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Fine..why not."
"Yes! That's the spirit!" Troy clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make Benimaru take a half-step forward. "Come on, let's go before all the good stuff's gone!"
They left the barracks and headed down a wide corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions. Other recruits passed them in clusters, but Troy kept up a steady stream of chatter the entire way, pointing out different hallways and explaining what was where.
After a few minutes of walking and several turns, they finally reached a pair of massive double doors. The dull roar of voices and clattering dishes leaked through even before Troy pushed one open.
The mess hall was enormous.
Benimaru paused just inside the entrance, taking it in. The space was easily the size of a small warehouse, with rows upon rows of long wooden tables stretching from one end to the other. Marines filled nearly every seat, some still in their uniforms, others in casual clothes, all talking, laughing, or shoveling food into their mouths. The ceiling was high, supported by thick beams, and large windows along the walls let in natural light that mixed with the glow of hanging lanterns.
The air was thick with the smell of cooked meat, rice, and something vaguely sweet. At the far end of the hall was the serving area, a long counter manned by kitchen staff who ladled out portions onto metal trays as marines shuffled through the line.
"Pretty wild, right?" Troy said, grinning as he nudged Benimaru forward. "Gets packed like this every time... You'll get used to it though."
They joined the line, grabbing trays as they moved along. The food was simple but plentiful and Benimaru filled his tray without much thought, his eyes still wandering across the sea of faces in the hall.
"Over here!" Troy called once they'd gotten their food, weaving between tables toward a spot near the middle of the room. A few others were already seated, exactly three people who looked up as they approached.
"Yo! This is Benimaru," Troy announced as they sat down. "He's a new recruit, he just got here today."
The first to speak was a girl with sun-kissed tan skin and wild, curly auburn hair that fell past her shoulders in thick waves. Her hazel eyes were bright and expressive, and a smattering of freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks. She had an athletic build, clearly someone who spent time training. "Another fresh face? Welcome to the Marines...I'm Reina." Her smile was genuine, if a bit teasing.
Next to her sat a broad-shouldered guy with rich, dark brown skin and messy black hair that ran all the way down to his jaw. He had kind eyes and a square jaw, his frame muscular but not overly bulky. When he smiled, dimples appeared in his cheeks. "Name's Marcus," he said, his voice deep and warm. He gave a little two-finger salute with his fork.
The last person was almost the complete opposite, a pale, wiry kid with shaggy white-blonde hair that hung over his forehead and nearly obscured one of his ice-blue eyes. He had sharp, angular features and looked like he hadn't slept properly in days, with faint dark circles under his eyes. His fingers were long and thin as they pushed his hair back absently. "Kai," he said simply, his voice quiet and flat.
"Nice to meet you all," Benimaru said, setting his tray down and taking a seat.
Troy immediately dove into his food, talking between bites. "So I was just telling Benimaru about the place, figured he could use the rundown, y'know?. You guys have anything to add?"
Reina laughed, leaning back in her chair. "No not really, but I remember my First day here and it felt like getting thrown into the deep end."
"True," Marcus added, stabbing at a piece of fish. " It took me a solid week before I stopped getting lost every time I left my room."
Kai pushed his food around on his plate. "The layout's not that complicated if you actually pay attention."
"Easy for you to say, Mr. Photographic Memory," Troy shot back with a grin.
The conversation flowed easily around him, and Benimaru found himself just... listening. Troy was clearly the loud one, always cracking jokes or throwing in commentary. Marcus seemed easygoing and approachable, the kind of person who could get along with anyone. Reina had a competitive edge to her, confident and direct. Kai was quiet and analytical, the type who only spoke when he had something worth saying.
"So what's your deal?" Reina asked suddenly, her gaze landing on Benimaru. "You got some grand reason for joining up, or are you just looking for a paycheck?"
Benimaru met her eyes, keeping his expression neutral. "I'm here to get stronger."
He didn't mind telling other people that. It was a simple goal, yet straightforward enough that nobody would think twice about it or dig any deeper.
She raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely curious. "That's it? No 'justice for all' speech?"
"That's it."
Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Hey, honesty's refreshing. Better than listening to some of these guys go on and on about their noble causes every chance they get."
"Nothing wrong with having ideals," Kai said quietly, though there wasn't much conviction behind it.
"Didn't say there was. Just saying some people need to dial it back a notch."
The banter continued, and Benimaru slowly picked at his food. The mess hall buzzed around them, hundreds of voices blending into a constant hum, punctuated by bursts of laughter or the clang of trays being stacked. It was chaotic, loud, and overwhelming in its own way.
Then immediately he felt his skin crawl, a cold, prickling sensation that spread across his arms and up his neck. His heart hammered against his ribs, each beat louder and faster than the last, until it felt like it might burst through his chest. His breath caught once, twice, and suddenly he couldn't pull in enough air. The mess hall around him blurred at the edges, the voices becoming distant and muffled.
All he could see were flashes. Bodies on the ground. Blood pooling in the dirt. Yuki's pale face, her hand going limp. The flames. The screams. The giant man standing over him with those empty, cold eyes.
His hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.
"Sorry, but I need to go." The words came out flat, almost as if there was nothing wrong, as he pushed himself up from the table.
Everyone looked up at him, confusion flickering across their faces. Troy opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Reina gave him a look and shook her head slightly.
"Alright, man. See you around," Marcus said, his tone careful, like he sensed something was off but wasn't going to push.
Benimaru didn't respond. He just turned and walked away, weaving through the tables until he reached the doors. The moment he stepped into the outside, the noise of the mess hall dulled behind him, but his chest still felt tight, and his breathing was still shallow and uneven.
He forced himself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, until he reached his room. The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence was almost jarring after what happened in the mess hall.
Benimaru stood there for a moment, his back pressed against the door, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to steady his breathing.
In through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
Slow.
It took a few minutes, but eventually the racing in his chest began to ease, the images fading back into the corners of his mind where he usually kept them locked away.
This was almost normal by now. The anxiety attacks had become a regular occurrence ever since that day, that happens without warning. His body remembered what his mind tried to forget, and no matter how hard he pushed it down, it always found a way back to the surface.
But then he dropped onto the floor right there and started doing pushups.
"One...Two..." He muttered, as he went up and down again doing pushups.
The physical exertion helped. It always did, when he had his anxiety attacks that threatened to pull him under, this was the only thing that worked.
He didn't know why.
But it did...
So for the rest of the night, Benimaru continued doing pushups until his arms trembled violently with each rep, until his shoulders burned like they were on fire, until sweat dripped from his face and pooled on the floor beneath him. He pushed through the pain, through the exhaustion, through the point where his body screamed at him to stop.
. . . . .
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