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“So, what’s your story, Mr. Becket?” Mako asks, sitting beside him. They’d gone to the mess hall late - nearly 8pm - for dinner, hoping to avoid the leering crowds that greeted them at lunch after their failed Drift test.
Raleigh looked up from the mashed potatoes he was sculpting with his fork into abyssal eyes, a face of angles milky skin painted with curiosity, and suppressed his heart as it leaped into his throat. Regardless of how the test had gone, Raleigh was sure he’d won some kind of lottery, and the prize was being the closest person on the planet to Mako Mori. “You already know that, don’t you? Been inside my head and all.”
She smiled, an expression tugging tightly at the corners of her mouth as if a pair of fishing hooks were constantly threatening to break her set expression. As if emotions of joy were so foreign to her face her muscles were unused to the movements. Raleigh found it charming.
“Not that. How did you come to know Japanese?” She asked, swinging a leg over the bench attached to the mess hall table, turning her body towards him.
“Is it that strange that I know another language?” He retorted, chewing on a piece of bread.
She frowned playfully. “You could barely pass English in the 10th grade. You come from Alaska. Everyone I met at the Anchorage Shatterdome–” she paused, letting it click into place that yes she had been there and yes she had seen him “–was… how do I put it? They could never remember the difference between China, Japan, or Korea.”
Raleigh laughed at what was obviously an old sticking point for her. “Yeah, well. They never expected much out of boys up there. They put you through the bare minimum of school, and most of us didn’t make it through that before we ended up on crabbers.”
Mako brushed blue strands of hair with her hands, letting them fall against her features at will. Her eyes an ice pick, digging into the target of her curiousity. “So, how did a boy who was supposed to become a crabber come to know Japanese?”
Raleigh sighed, seeing his escape routes evaporate before him. “They taught Yancy and I the basics in Academy. Marshall thought we’d be going to the Tokyo Shatterdome once Gipsy was ready to deploy.” “‘They are a proud and respectful people!’” Raleigh imitated in an unconvincing London accent. “‘You must learn their language if you are to live among them and uphold the name of the Jaeger program!’”
Mako laughed, a hand floating in front of her mouth modestly. “But you know more than just the basics. Though your pronunciation is… well, it leaves something to be desired.” she finished, looking up at him through the sheer curtain of her bangs.
Raleigh gave her an incredulous look. “Well, shitusreshimashita, we aren’t all natives now are we?” He finished with a smile, disarming her and coaxing another laugh from behind her hand. When Mako finally stopped laughing, Raleigh found she was looking at him, eyes wide, expectantly.
“You really wanna know, don’t you?” He said ruefully. “Fine.” Mako shifted, leaning forward intently.
Raleigh could feel the regret sneaking up on him as he began his tale. “So, we learned the basics in Jaeger Academy, like I just told you. Obviously, we didn’t wind up there, but for a good month or two they were teaching Yancy and I the ohayou’s and arigatou’s in the vain hope that two G.I.’s wouldn’t ruin Stacker’s image over there. But me – well, it’s like you said – I’m no good with words. I was never into reading. I was always better with my hands, with my eyes. But Stacker didn’t want me falling behind, so…”
Her eyebrows arched, her eyes widening, making Mako’s eyes obsidian circles in a pools of white. “Stacker..?”
Raleigh looked at her wryly, breaking into a breathy, embarrassed chuckle when he caught her eyes. “So one day, he called me into his office. But instead of talking there, like we always would, he brought me through the door in the back…”
“... That lead to where we lived.” Mako finished the sentence for him, a look of glee spreading on her face.
“Oh, man, Mako. Seeing that place threw me for a loop.” Raleigh continued, laughing at the memory. “It was filled with pink sheets with a cat on it and–”
“–Hello Kitty!” Mako interjected, indignant. “Those were my favorite!”
It was Raleigh’s turn to raise his eyebrows, this time in disbelief. “–Hello Kitty sheets, and this small, old LCD TV. He sat me down on the floor and said ‘Now I know your type, Raleigh, and you ain't gonna learn in no classroom. So sit here and learn so you don’t embarrass yourself, boy.’”
Mako was biting the edge of her her lower lip, tears in the corners of her eyes as she tried to contain her laughter. “So? What did you watch? I had quite the collection.” she said, proudly.
He squinted his eyes closed and pursed his lips, mortified at her laughter. “A bit of everything. But I settled on Gundam Wing.” He said, sneaking a look out of the corner of his eyes.
Mako couldn’t contain herself anymore, and was doubled over, shaking with silent laughter, a breathy chortle escaping her occasionally. “So you learned,” she said, looking up, amused, “By watching anime?”
“This is why I didn’t wanna tell you” he said, embarrassed. “I was sure you’d laugh.”
“So I guess I should have added rocket launchers to Gipsy, so she can fly in space” Mako said, breathless with laughter.
Raleigh put his head in his hands as Mako’s laughter echoed off the empty mess hall, drawing stares from passers by.