He had a normal life in Tokyo, back when he was a child. Though the city had bad air and was filled with people, there were still prefectures that were relatively quiet, neighborhoods that stayed idyllic within that hyperactive city of lights. Kako Ikuu was the son of a salaryman and a housemom, spending his days doing what boys did: lots of sports and not much of anything else. He wasn’t particularly good at soccer, of course, but it was the relationships built while kicking a ball that mattered. He grew up with a lot of fun packed into his everyday life, and while he certainly wasn’t popular himself, Ikuu was PART of the popular group. When his best friend in elementary school wanted to start a band, he started getting interested in learning to play the guitar. His parents were glad that he had gotten an interest that was veering more on the artistic side of things, and granted his request. Of course, like most elementary school relationships, his friends disappeared after the transition to middle school, and his original purpose for learning how to play the guitar was lost.
He didn’t lose heart though, and joined the light music club in middle school to make some use of his skills. Those days were passed with a significantly slower pace than before, afternoons spent chatting about music and playing a few songs with other club members. A relaxed pace, but he was older now, and Ikuu didn’t mind. A small group of friends that he could talk about stupid things with was alright as well. Those were carefree times that he doesn’t remember quite so clearly now, except for one thing.
On one warm afternoon, with the sky dyed orange, he had been walking home with a friend of his, when the Nephilim appeared.He could remember the black smoke, the heavy heat, the numbing pain.
He could remember passing out as the world around him collapsed.
He had spent two years in the hospital, coming to terms with the fact that he had lost his legs and his right arm, as well as a variety of other, less fatal, injuries. His friend was comatose, unresponsive to treatment or prayers. The monster that had haunted his dreams was gone, driven away by the actions of one heroic scientist.
His parents were still safe, by some irregular miracle, but he could tell that they wished they would have been dead, if it meant that he would be whole. He had already become accustom to the tears of his mother and the lies of his father by the time he left the hospital in an electronic wheelchair. They moved to central Tokyo soon after, as it was closest to the headquarters of SEED, an organization created to fight off this alien threat.
Every week, he would wheel himself to the ruins of his middle school, dusting off the hastily-erected memorial that stood there.
Every week, he would visit the hospital, counting down the days until his friend would be put off life-support.
Every week, he could feel himself slowly being strangled by the fear that everyone lived in.
But he continued with his studies, closing himself off to the outside world as he focused on the things in life that didn’t matter anymore. Studying gave him a small bit of purpose, in a world that would probably be annihilated in his generation.
Then, one day, SEED announced that they were seeking test pilots for a new series of weapons, the prototypes that would become the weapons to fend off the coming of the Nephilims. Their consent form, which stated the clear possibility of death, scared off most of the interested parties. For Ikuu, that was alright. He was too young, but after enough prostrating before his parents, he obtained their consent. SEED must have been desperate as well, for the human resources manager didn’t even bat an eye at Ikuu’s resume.
The first thing they outfitted him with was the prototype for Black Rabbit, a set of prosthetic limbs that replaced his old ones. He laughed at how perfect this all was, and then asked them to amputate his remaining limb, just so he can get a matching set of robotic arms and legs.
First, it was soccer. Then, it was the light music club. And now, he was asking people to butcher himself for the sake of humanity.
More consent forms were filled out. More permissions were begged for. And, on the fourth year since the last Nephilim attack, Ikuu could walk once more. The noose that had been tightening around his neck was removed, and he began to work in earnest once more.
It would be young girls who may be putting their lives on the line when they fought the Nephilim, but it would his life that was on the line when it came to calibrating the tech part of MagiTech.
