Fandom Metal Gear Solid V: Old Scars

[Retrohorror]

In the nine years since MSF's destruction, Kaz had travelled to Afghanistan to oversee the training of Mujahideen soldiers. While his participation in working with them had on surface level, been to oppose Soviet oppression, Kaz had an ulterior motive.

Intel had fallen in his lap about the possibility of Emmerich being sighted at the Afghanistan Central Base Camp. Though his leads would eventually turn up cold, in his haste for vengeance, Kaz made mistakes, and he paid the price for them.

It was why he and his unit were easily taken off-guard by the Parasite Unit: why he had lost both arm and leg in the ensuing chaos.

For a few days after, he had been holed up in some run-down shack. A torn dirty shirt was the only thing stemming off the bleeding. The pain had him fade in and out of consciousness between interrogations, torture, and humiliation. But in spite of that, he held in his mind the silhouette of a young woman. Xiē-xīn. God, he had given her some bullshit rambling about finding Emmerich. His betrayal had blindsided both of them, but maybe for her, it stung even more. After all, he could never really stand the bastard.

He didn't think he'd find his way back to her. And the thought of her never receiving at least a small amount of closure wounded him deeply.

But by some miracle, he found him: Snake.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, he saw again the light of day. He wasn't in any shape or form to ruminate on how he had taken it for granted; instead, his hatred for Cipher grew.

The angry and self-loathing man he had become was left for Xiē-xīn to deal with when he returned to Mother Base. While grabbing onto Snake, and yanking from a poor medic a crutch, he made known that she would be the only one to tend to his wounds.

Aside from Big Boss himself, only she had his full trust.

---

Glancing at the analog clock at his bedside, Kaz rumbled a low groan. Sleep was still heavy on his eyes, but in a strange quandary, he felt restless.

Kaz pulled himself out of bed and grabbing the crutch propped up on the nightstand began to hobble his way out of his quarters.

The first sound he heard were the calls of the seagulls roosting nearby. First light had yet to come, and the early morning hour was complete with a muggy gray gloom.

Like clockwork, he turned and headed to the one place he's been spending the majority of his time between sessions of therapy. Xiē-xīn must be up by now. He had committed to memory her usual routine, though he was not privy to reveal that fact to her. Right now, she was perhaps on the bridge overlooking the ocean. Perhaps it was on her way out from her bunker.

With her back to him, he approached, and with a small cough to alert her of his presence, he joined her. "Couldn't sleep much. I thought some air might do me some favors."

 

[khorvidae]

No one could have ever adequately prepared her for what she came back to. Brandishing what knowledge she had from the MSF and the remnants of Peace Walker that died with it, she returned to the turbulent ashes that bristle still with rage and disquiet, and it's a wonder why she returned at all. In short, she was terrible at cutting contact or covering her tracks.

Fortunately, the one who found her just so happened to be Kazuhira; for what reason, she failed to wonder on account of being too tickled by his determination. Then, with little convincing, she was at his side again, where once she was convinced their paths would never cross. Outposted in Afghanistan, she fixed gear, made gear, helped Kaz and his soldiers where she could. Not once had she wondered what it was he was after, presuming it was some facet of the former conflict perpetuated by something greater, or a desire to be remembered as a part of something greater after the fall of MSF. Xiē-xīn didn't care. Kaz had yet to lead her astray. And, she was helping people again, which felt like a win/win in every aspect.

But then everything went to shit.

Hindsight being a pain in the ass, Xié-xīn should've asked further questions about what exactly they were up against. Had she known the full extent of it ─ the Parasite Unit and XOF ─ she could have done something. At least, that's what she told herself to soften the blow. She couldn't say for sure whether it was her fault so many mujahideen soldiers were slaughtered or if Kaz’s kidnapping was attributed to her, but it certainly felt like it was. A heavy burden that weighed on her conscience in the days between seeped into her work, and buried itself in the confines of her heart. Something unresolved rested there. It, too, rotted alongside those who lived on in her memory by virtue of just being there.

By some miracle, she was able to play dead long enough to be rescued. Then, like every witness to some sort of massacre, she was interrogated. Ocelot's awe was priceless. He must've skipped over the memo that stated she was even there, but he treated her as cold as everyone else. Went so far as to imply she set up the whole thing, damn fool. Formidable interrogator, her ass. To occupy her afterward, however, as if nothing happened at all, she found herself in their shop to man their men because they couldn't be bothered. She could. With newfound guilt, she was hardened and a real bitch by most accounts. All the while, she was trying to make sense of what happened and praying to God that Kaz was somewhere, alive.

There was a point where she couldn't take it anymore. Those were days spent beating at Ocelot's door, when she couldn't find him on deck because she thought she found a lead, while he was concocting a larger plan unbeknownst to her.

Snake arrived at one point. Something about him was off, and that's besides the shrapnel protruding from his head like some half-devil hybrid. He was dissociated and hardened. After nine years, it was baffling to believe it was even him.

While everyone was celebrating his return, Xié-xīn couldn't help but wish Kaz was there to revel in the excitement. The other part of her didn't think it was possible. She couldn't bother herself with it. Part of her began to believe he was dead, and every passing day gave credence to it. Her open hostility was most notable at this time; getting into physical altercations over petty offenses and arguments over accidents. Eventually, Ocelot had to tell her to get her head out of her ass and lighten up. That went about as well as it had any other time. For attacking him, she was locked up for Snake to give a good talking to. How she hadn't been exhiled, she still can't fathom.

The day they planned to recover Kaz was the day Xié-xīn cleaned up her act real quick. Well, sort of. Knowing that she'd been excluded from the whole thing pissed her off greatly, but confirmation that he was alive meant more to her than anything at that moment. When he finally got there, after agonizing hours of anticipation, she was frozen still with fear, wondering what had gone so horribly wrong that he'd return in such horrid condition. And it was her job to care for him, as decreed by him, which she felt she had absolutely no right to do after what happened. That sense of unworthiness didn't impede her from being the first at his bedside, stringing along pretty apologies while he was supposed to be in recovery. He was different from then; everyone was.

---

For the first time in a long time, Xié-xīn peeled herself from her sheets and out on deck at a rough six in the morning. God's not even up yet, so it takes supplementary determination she's not mentally signed up for, however she's already standing by the time she's concluded as much. A series of lazed ‘whatever's took place: the unmade bed, the uncapped toothpaste, the disordered outfit and unbrushed hair. For what it's worth, she wants to fix those things, but her mind's too foggy to care. And, skillfully, she sneaks out on deck just early enough to witness the bending shades of gray and blue taking hold of the atmosphere. The morning air, fresh off the ocean waves, weaves expertly around her dwarfed figure, cooling the waking hotness of her cheeks and arms.

The gentle squawks of nearby seagulls filled the void between her and the ocean. From behind, she counts the clicks of familiar crutches. It's a subtle enough to forewarn her; after the last time, she was certain he was being louder on purpose. This time, given the hour, she is perplexed to see him, but visibly pleased when she turns to face him. She meets him halfway, almost in a rush, loosely holding out her limbs for him to grab onto at a moment's notice, knowing full well he's too stubborn.

“You’re not supposed to be up this early,” Xié-xīn scolds, although her hovering and soft tone of voice betrays her. "Here; let's get you propped up so you can watch the sunrise. Although, I think you'll be disappointed." She's not going to let him hobble back to bed now. Instead, she carefully leads him to an opening along the rig where a shipping container sat, should he desire the support.

Her hand flutters over his skin in the meantime. Quickly meeting his forehead with the flat of her her palm, then switching to the back of her hand; all is well, too well. With the missing limbs, the medical team urged her to watch for fevers. Something about the body being unable to regulate heat due to the missing pulse points. It was routine at this point, just not this early. Can't do anything about it now. In any case, he's been deprived of it for far too long; some fresh air would do him well indeed, better for his eyes too when there was no sun.