Tokubetsukeisatsutai, Coded #235904002NT11820
To the Office of Kaisho; ATTN: Kaisho Yuri Nagata ONLY
Detailed Background Checks; Personnel ID 04002818; Taiyouji Jiro, Nito Kaii
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...streaming contents... Name of Personnel:Jiro Taiyouji Rank:Nito Kaii Date of Birth:19.07.795 Place of Birth:Musashino, New Tokyo Education:Kusari Naval Academy, Fighter Pilot (818 Graduate; Ranked #41) Date of Enlistment:01.03.818 Family:Retired-Santo Kaisa Genzou Taiyouji (father), Late-Nito Kaisa Gin Taiyouji (brother), Mikari Taiyouji (step-mother), Eka Hamada (mother)
Commentaries:
Jiro Taiyouji is the second son and heir of the current head of Taiyouji Family, Genzou Taiyouji.
The father, Genzou, has found and owns a half of the shares of Taiyo Aviation, effectively a branch of the Samura Heavy Industries now, which manufactures and designs ships and aviation mechanics for commercial flight. Genzou is also a Flight Engineer himself, and in his time of serving with the Kusari Navy, he took part in several projects to improve the older designs of the naval ships that are in use today. He retired from active duty in 794, approximately a year before the birth of his second son.
Jiro's late half-brother was Nito Kaisa Gin Taiyouji, the decorated Seto war veteran. He started his naval career in 812 AS after he graduated from the then Imperial Naval Academy, ranked as high as #3 among his peers. He showed great promise both in battle and in command duty through his time in the Imperial Naval Forces. With the rank of Nito Kaisa, he was in charge of a Special Operations Task Force, belonging to the Seto Battlegroup. All records showed him and his whole Task Force to be K.I.A., before the separation of Seto Battlegroup from the rest of the Naval Forces.
An intense search into the background of Jiro and his family, and the hospital records on the date of Jiro's birth, make it highly likely that he's the result of an illegitimate relationship between his father Genzou, and Eka Hamada, who's a woman of common birth, an owner of a restaurant in Musashi, New Tokyo. This illegitimate relationship in the past, and Jiro's dubious birth are kept secret from the public to preserve the good image of the Taiyouji family and Taiyo Company.
It is unknown if Jiro is aware of the identity of his biological mother, but it is possible that he knows of his dubious birth, due to an earlier family incident after which Jiro left home at a teen age to fall in with Hogosha youth gangs for a couple of years. It is said that he was literally beaten up and dragged out from the underworld and forced into the Naval Acadamy by his brother Gin. Even though it was already mid-season in the Academy, and no recruits would be taken, his influential father and brother pulled enough strings to make it happen.
It also appears that there are many cases where his father had to bribe the Instructors and the Head of the Academy so he was not kicked out and could pass to the next term. Especially his first two years in the Academy shows many bad conduct records. But the next two years, [which is interesting to note that this timeline intersects with the reported death of his brother, Gin] there is a steady improvement, his marks reach to acceptable levels, and after a small incident in his third year, his discipline record is totally clean. There's a note on his examination paper at the end of his third year, from the Flight Instructor Ito Kaii Nao Nozaki, which simply says 'He's a natural,'. His flight scores are indeed among the highest of his peers, and was the single most determinant factor in his graduation and admittance into the Naval Forces. In other fields such as responsibility, tactics and command his scores were barely below average.
After graduation, he was immediately enlisted into the force with the rank of Santo Kaii, and was sent to Battleship Matsumoto to reinforce the patrols against the Blood Dragons and GC threats.
In his rookie season, Jiro had been repeatedly disciplined for disobeying orders, and was grounded a couple of times. But the constant loss of rookie pilots did not allow the command to be choosy enough to send him off. He was apparently not the smartest guy, but he somehow survived. Here's a report from his wing leader about Jiro's behavior at the time:
"This guy is nuts. He doesn't listen to an order to retreat, or just listens way too late, having all the enemies on his tail and just barely surviving, everytime. He had not lost a ship yet, but he took more damage than the rest of the wing combined in the last two months... He flies blindly into the middle of the enemy formation as if he wants them all to shoot at him. I fear we'll have to add him to the list of fried nuggets soon enough, but the lad is a beast in a fight, and an amazing drinking mate... I can easily say that he's really liked by the rest of the team... I'll have to do my best to reform him, but I fear I might not have too much time left for it..."
In the early 820, he was promoted to Nito Kaii and he also received a few medals. But only a few days after he, again, disobeyed direct orders to retreat and lost his vessel in the skirmish, which hospitalized him for a month and grounded him for another. He was demoted, and his medals were taken.
Here is the report from when he was admitted to the Primary Naval Forces in 820-6, evaluating his rookie year:
"Mental health and psyche analyses suggest that Jiro is suspectable to rash decisions, often ignoring the commanding officers who are usually correct when they are advising caution. Statistics show that the vessels he flew ended up 44% more damaged compared to the average of his squadron in year 819.
His squad mates sounded their concerns about his poor planning and reckless tendencies many times, but they also always mentioned his cheerful nature and supportive attitude towards his fellow pilots. Naturally, however, it's not advised to give him the responsibility of command."
In the late June of 820, Jiro applied to the Primary Naval Forces, stating his reason as "You guys get all the action!". The next day, his request was accepted after a meeting with his old wing leader, who spoke rather favorable of him despite Jiro's shortcomings. He was promoted to Nito Kaii, and was transferred to a wing in New Tokyo, relatively less dangerous than his rookie station. It was reported that he was not happy about his new wing at first, as he wanted action.
As Jiro is the heir of Taiyo Company, his father's efforts may have helped him as well in his admittance; it only makes the Taiyouji family more prestigious when their heir has some success in the navy.
Strangely enough, Jiro's time in the Primary Forces appear a little more responsible than his rookie year. Even though he had never challenged a direct order yet, there are some incidents.
In his very first day in the Primaries, Jiro was evaluated by the advisor Yuji Kobayakawa. They flew to Tau-29 with the reports of Exile sightings, and managed to catch one. It is said that Jiro quickly captured the Exile pilot and brought her to Battleship Nagumo for questioning. From where she later escaped, under shady circumstances.
The same day, their patrol was attacked by an Outcast raid party, and the only one remaining with his ship was Kobayakawa, as Jiro remained back and guarded Kobayakawa's retreat.
There was a case a bit afterwards, in a lost skirmish where the pilots in Jiro's patrol disagreed among each others. One of the pilots in the patrol went on a drinking spree after the incident, crashed her ship, and subsequently was demoted. After her demotion, she was assigned to be Jiro's wing-mate by the command in order to force them to cooperate with each other.
A Tokkeitai agent also reports that she took him to a flight through the omicrons in his first week, and tried to get an idea about his mentality through the journey. It's reported that Jiro had told her about his simple philosophy, which, in his words, is 'to be content, to accept and live with what you have to, to love what's near, to enjoy simple things, but to also guard them with your life when it comes to that,'. Jiro apparently also added that he has absolutely no ambition, he wouldn't want to be that 'heir of the Taiyouji family, who has to be perfect like Gin,' if he had a choice. Probably, he doesn't find himself fit for such a responsibility, and he doesn't feel like he can fill his brother's shoes.
Jiro is known to keep his distance from the Taiyouji family's estate, and only communicates with his relatives if he absolutely has to. 'There is a deep enmity between himself and his mother', is what the servants of the Taiyouji household say, 'and a degree of coldness between father and son,'. 'You'd think that the young master despises the Taiyouji, and generally everything about them,'.
Jiro is known to make fun of the opposing enemy in the skirmishes, most probably to make them target himself. Reading his patrol logs, it appeared to us that he enjoys to insult the Farmers Alliance the most. An interesting thing to note in one of the patrol logs was that, even though many of the pilots and citizens of Kusari still remain somewhat loyal, never daring to speak against the Emperor's person, Jiro has no reservation about telling how much he despises the Emperor to incite a Farmer opponent into attacking him. The strength and sureness of his words when he insults the Emperor leave no trace of doubt that he indeed despises the Emperor. This is intriguing, as the Taiyouji family are claiming descent from the Imperial Family, and have been among the Emperors' most loyal supporters through centuries. The head of Taiyouji, Jiro's father, still doesn't hide his support to the Emperor, at least in words only.
This might be an example of how much Jiro actually despises the Taiyouji family in actuality.
Jiro has been a part of the Primary Force for about five months, here are several more things of note so far:
Jiro took part in the successful covert operation into Omicron Minor, against the Liberty Forces, in coordination of our elite agents that infiltrated the Arch.
He argues with agent Kiyohime usually, which was once rather vehement. Her outlook on life can be considered to be a near complete contrast of Jiro's.
In the recent incident of Nansei, it was his wing that got their ships stolen by the rebels. In that scenario, he showed a lot of attachment to his wing-mate Teta Nakamura, who's also the pilot who was demoted after a drinking spree, and got herself assigned to Jiro's wing.
Jiro's a friend of Motoya Toshiro, a bartender in the Perfect Blossom Tea Room, who's also known as 'Philosopher Toshiro' or 'Uncle Toshiro'. Toshiro, in the past, got in trouble with the authority, as he was caught while smuggling foreign alcoholic beverages to bypass the taxes. This might hint that Jiro could still be in contact with the underworld from his youth; but if he is, he's very careful at it as we were not able to find a proof of any of his involvements of that kind as of yet.
In the dark of the night, his parents' room was lit with an orange lamp. Jiro was watching their murky shadows through an elaborate bamboo screen.
"You are always off somewhere... playing with your... mistresses!" mother sobbed, her voice shaking with sadness and anger, stopping to hiss after every few words. Her shadow crooked towards father threateningly... She was always scary. "Producing half witted... bastards... like Jiro..." she spat the name, "while I am here... in this stuffy place... having to take care of your bastard..."
Jiro took a step back from the screen.
Father replied strictly, "Lower your voice."
Mother hissed back, "Afraid of your bastard hearing it?! Why don't I go and--" a crash cut her voice momentarily, pieces of glass jingled on the floor.
The woman's voice, who he thought as his mother all this time, became foreign. They turned into wild mumbles, stabbed his skin like they were fangs of beasts, then left his mind for plain, cold silence.
The reality struck him like a thunder in his silent void... It all made sense. But why was it so cold, trembling his feet? Why would he only hear the race of his heart?
He sneaked a look back over his shoulder to the big house one last time. There was a river of tears silently running down on his cheek alike the calm river he was paddling on. Towards the shore, to the other side, where he'd be free.
The sky looked darker that night; the stars were a lot less brighter compared to the last night when he was with his brother. Joking around and laughing together, warming next to a big fire. He missed that fire, it was cold now.
He tried to forget the cold that kept on shaking his whole body forcefully, he fought it back and looked forward. The city was before him with all its shine, crowd and noise. Surely, he'd be warmed there, and would never feel lonely.
The boat thunked on to the shore. The boy shrugged and stepped out of it on to the ground that was foreign and unknown. He stepped forwards still, sniffling and drying his tears off his cheeks, ignoring the reality of the home he left behind on the other side of the river. He'd never look back again, he'd always step forwards, he'd remain free. He did not need them, and they did not want him. He was not one of them.
Frowning with angry thoughts, hoping they'll scare off his sadness, he walked on as fast as he could. He stepped without an aim with the river of people, where ever his feet dragged him. His thoughts were taken over by the city. There was so much noise, so much clamor mixing up and creating confusion. Shining lights from every direction, attractions he had never seen before, faces he never looked at before. He felt free at last, with so many people around him, he'd never need 'them'.
He fell in love with what he saw; he was trying to look at every direction at the same time. An old couple was drinking something together in a shop by the street, holding hands and smiling to each others while they spoke in hushed tones. The shop smelled so nicely, he could not help but be drawn towards it. He came upon a street performer performing by the shop, throwing so many shiny objects into the air and catching them with a skill of hand, spitting fire from his mouth, dancing and jumping around like a funny monkey while doing it all. The people crowded around him with wonder and kept a rhythm with their clapping. He forgot how long he stood there and watched the performer with a wide smile on his lips.
But as the time went on, he started to be drawn more and more by the smells around him, rather than his eyes. Behind the performer was a restaurant full of people, eating merrily with their loved ones. The boy felt the growl in his stomach. How much he'd want to take a bite from the tasty beef that'd be cooked at his home around this time by their old cook. Served to them on their plates by their many servants, with many desserts and sweet drinks, on a table that looked like a funfair rather than a dinner.
He frowned again and shook his head to each side rapidly. He shook the thoughts out of his head. No. He'd not be weak, like he was told he's by that woman he thought is his mother, who kept on telling that he is a weakling and how much better his elder brother is. He'd not look back from his shoulder again... even though the home was no longer behind his shoulder.
He looked back behind his shoulder. There were only big people with unknown faces, living their own lives without even taking any attention of him. He was in a foreign ground, lost in a loud city, without a way to go, place to eat, or a bed to sleep in.
It was cold again. The music and the dance of the performer no longer entertained him. It looked lifeless and fake. He walked away from the crowd. Seeking a bit of darkness, loneliness, away from all this confusion, all that clamour and fake extravagance which revoltingly oppressed him, scared him and made him feel even lonelier.
He took a byway and entered into a dark alley, walking slowly, at a loss with what to do... Could he really manage to be free? He started to doubt it now. His anger had no meaning any more, and it was only the taste of defeat he could feel along with how hungry he is. He had to get back to home... But which way he should go?
He was trying to look at every direction at the same time again. This time not with love, but with immense fear. The shadows elongated dangerously at every corner where there was even a bit of light, the darkness took him over suddenly without he could realize it. He looked up, the tall buildings covered upon him like a dungeon, even the stars could not be seen any more.
Something rustled behind him in the darkness, skipped closer to him lightly, and rapidly. He turned to look at what it is, to his horror. Two eyes, brightly and dangerously shining at him, a cold murderous stare. It stepped closer, forcing the boy to take a step backwards. Three more couples of stares appeared quickly behind it, and looked at him silently for a while. The boy's knees felt weaker and weaker, he fell on to the ground as he tried to take another step back.
From under the eyes appeared long and sharp teeth, as if it was not enough to scare the boy already. The boy had not heard such a dangerous sound before ever in his life. His eyes opened wide with the growls, unable to take his eyes of those teeth and murderous eyes. It was so cold, freezing his body and sneaking into his thoughts, he could not even drag himself backwards as he was forced to look back at these monsters emptily.
They looked at each others that way for half a minute, maybe longer, until the monster in the front finally let out a loud bark. The boy was so overcome with fear that moment, he did not know when he stood up, and when he started to run with all his strength towards the opposite side of those eyes. Crying as hard and loud as he can, holding his head in between his arms, blocking his ears, his eyes barely able to see ahead from the blur of his tears.
He ran and ran, without aiming for a direction, losing himself in the city further. He sometimes tumbled on to big people and other things, fell down on to the hard ground, bruised his legs, wounded his arms and hands. His clothes dirtied in the mud and dust, tore up at his knees and shoulders.
Breathless, bleeding, and covered in dust all over, he ended up at the edge of a somewhat calm street. Under a street light, with no people or scary monsters around. He still scanned around himself every ten seconds to make sure as much as the tears in his eyes would allow. He'd keep on running forever, but his feet could not take him anywhere further than this. The shake of his knees got more dangerous, his head was also buzzing. His stomach aching, without any energy and anything to eat, his world started to blur around further...
He let himself down, hiccuping uncontrollably. He dragged his hurting body towards a corner that looked somewhat like a shelter, and pulled some boxes of carton over himself. He was so tired, he was starting to forget his hunger and fear. He tried to imagine that it's warm, he's in his safe home, his belly full, in his comfortable bed inside blankets. His tears were running down on to the cold floor still. He gave up.
Slowly approaching the ground piece by piece, snow looks like cotton sprinkled around the dim street light. The child shivers, covered under a cardboard. With his consciousness sharpening like the knives stabbing in his stomach from his hunger, he uncomfortably shakes his body.
Something sniffles at his foot, then growls weakly. The child, alarmed, throws the cardboard off himself, fearing it's one of those monsters that chased him last night. His gaze meets a puppy's bright brown eyes, looking back at him curiously. Sighing, he tries to calm his fast beating heart down.
Its big ears fall down from each side of its head. It growls again, and lets out an attempt at barking. The boy's hands reach to its head to pet. The puppy won't allow it, it shakes itself away and hops a step back. The boy shrugs at first, but feeling lonely, he tries to strike a conversation with it.
"You're hungry too?" he asks. He waits, the silence elongates, the puppy doesn't answer, just looks at him with those annoyingly innocent eyes. "What?" he asks this time with a frown. He waits, the puppy waits. His stomach growls, the puppy growls back.
Puffing, the boy struggles himself up on his feet, pats some dust off his clothes. He looks up and down the street. Snow flakes cover the dark sky boxed in between the towering buildings. Slowly piles up on the roads and pathways, over closed shop signs and dirty old sign posts.
A little light sneak into the scene from down the street, where the buildings are much smaller. The dawn breaks.
The boy takes a last look at the stray puppy, realizing how similar they are, but he decides to ignore it. With hunger dulling his mind, he walks down the street towards the light. The puppy follows behind him with shy steps, leaving some respectful distance.