My name is Isao Koga. Before I was a Federation soldier, I was nothing but a low-life delinquent born into a world where violence was the only language we spoke. My family? It was a goddamn circus of misery. My old man was an unemployed, abusive drunk who pinned every failure in his life on me. My mother was a gambling addict and a hostess who'd watch me get a face-full of fist without blinking with the same blank stare she gave a losing pachinko machine. My brother was a corporate slave at some black company who never stepped foot in the house, and my sister took off with her boyfriend years ago. Home wasn't a home; it was a torture chamber in a neighborhood that felt like the deepest pit of hell.
I grew up in one of the roughest neighborhoods in Japan. It wasn't a home; it was a torture chamber. By the time I was in elementary school, I was already throwing hands in the yard against bullies who always brought backup twice my size. I learned early: if you don't swing first, you don't survive. I was forged in brawls. Whenever some punk tried to humiliate me, I fought back. But I hit my limit when old man started using his belt for target practice while my mom watched like it was a free show. I walked out and never looked back, choosing to sleep on the streets of Kabuki-cho with the other 'Toyoko' kids rather than take another beating.
Even back in elementary school, I was throwing hands in the yard against bullies who always brought backup. One day, when I was cornered, a group of "Yankii' (gangsters) stepped in. I didn't ask for a savior, but they showed up anyway. A group of Yankii intervened during one of my brawls, beating the hell out of the punks surrounding me. That gang wasn't just a bunch of thugs; they were a family. The leader's girlfriend patched up my wounds and offered to take me home, but I told her I'd rather rot on the streets than go back to my old man. I chose the "Yankii' life. They looked after me. They'd drop me off at school on their modified bikes, help me study, keep me fed, and teach me how to really fight. I admired them. I wanted to be just like them when I grew up. But my "rotten" biological family couldn't let it go. They tracked me down at the Yankii house, putting on a disgusting act of being "caring parents". I knew the second I stepped through their door, the beatings would start again. I stood my ground and screamed,
"I don't wanna going back! Dad's just gonna beat me, and Mom doesn't care about! I don't wanna be with them!!".
My old man snapped twisted into that familiar mask of rage. He tried to lunged at me with a heavy sandal, but the 'Yankii' leader was faster. He leveled my old man with a baseball bat, shattering his teeth right there on the pavement. He told those worthless losers to fuck off, and they ran. To pay them back for adopting me, I worked my ass off—washing clothes, scrubbing toilets, and keeping the base spotless. I was one of them now.
By high school, I was the walking definition of a delinquent. I sported the Yankii style and attended a boys' school that was basically a dumpster for the lowest rungs of society—walls covered in graffiti and classrooms filled with broken furniture. On my first day, I showed the 'senpai' zero respect. . I got into a brawl with a senpai and left him with a loosened jaw. The teachers? They were too terrified of us to look us in the eye even speak.
That's where I met Koga Zenjūbò. I was smoking on the field when he walked up on the school field and he just smirked.
"You're not half-bad for a punk. I'm impressed," He said, taking a drag of his own cigarette.
"You trying to start something, pal?" I barked back.
Koga just flicked his ash. "Actually, we're in the same class. I want to tell you since we are in the same class... In this school, the one who is strongest is on the pinnacle".
"The pinnacle, huh? That the only rule here?"
"Simple as it gets," Koga grinned. "Earn the respect of the other classes, and they'll follow you."
From that day on, Koga and I ran the school. We took over classes, brawled with rival schools, and dodged the cops. Sometimes the Federation soldiers would get involved to break up the riots. Fighting the cops was a joke, but the Federation guys? They were brutal, unlike the "shit" local police. Losing to them felt like a wake-up call—a hard punch to my pride. I eventually got busted, but that's when I met Emiya Mitsurugi. He'd seen me fight and offered me a spot in the Federation, an offered me a deal: join the Federation. He needed people who knew how to scrap, Since Koga was already heading to the military, I signed up.
Months later, I was stationed at the Naha Base in Okinawa. It felt like a permanent summer holiday, packed with locals and 'Gaijin' (foreigners). In the hangar, I saw my first Middle Mobile Suit: the RH-35E Draken-E. Koga and I shared a bunk, trained like hell, and learned to pilot the Federation's steel. That's also where we met the base's "Diva," Ohara Shiranui, and Emiya's assistant, Kisaki Shinomiya. Koga spent half his time trying to flirt with Ohara, being the smooth-talker he thought he was, immediately started trying to get close to Ohara.
Then the One Year War kicked off. The "Zeeks" (Zeon) invaded Earth, and we fought back with everything we had—Type-61 tanks, Saberfish, and Regina missile squads. It was a slaughter. We were getting wrecked by their giant Mobile Suits until Koga and I decided to take matters into our own hands. We found a Zaku I and a Zaku II in Tomishiro City, took down the pilots, and "borrowed" the suits. Bringing those Zeon machines back to Naha made us legends at the base. That's also when I met Emma Kasumi. We used those stolen Zakus to kick the Zeon forces out of Japan. When the news hit that Garma Zabi was dead, we finally felt like we had a chance.
Two weeks later, When the Federation finally sent the 'RGM-79 GM' and 'GM Cannon' from Jaburo to Naha, I looked at the new tech with hunger. My stolen Zaku I was busted, and I knew the GM was built from the Gundam's data. I looked at my future unit—a GM customized with twin beam sabers—and made a vow:
"Someday," I whispered to the machine, "I'm gonna pilot a real Gundam."
The war got ugly when Zeon's amphibious units attacked. Our GMs weren't built for the water, and their beam weapons and claws were tearing us apart. Then, more transports arrived with the Aqua GM and the Marine Type Gundam, along with a guy named Kyosuke Benimaru.
The war got uglier. Zeon's amphibious units were tearing us apart in the water. Even with the arrival of the 'Aqua GM' and 'Gundam Marine Type', my entire team was wiped out during a mission at Kudaka Island. I had to listen to their screams over the comms as my entire team was wiped out. I had to listen to their screams over the comms as they were butchered. I was the last one standing, facing down a Zogok and a Juaggu with nothing but two beam sabers. I went into a trance, shredding them both until my GM was a wreck and I was the only one left alive on a field of corpses. My GM was practically scrap by the time I finished them, but I survived. Everyone else was K.I.A..
After the Federation took Odessa and California Base, the Zeeks started retreating to space. Naha Base volunteered for the space campaign, and we boarded the Pegasus-class 'Gray Phantom'. Because of my record, they gave me what I'd dreamed of: the 'FA-78-1 Full Armor Gundam'. I was officially an Ace.
Koga walked up to me, grinning. "Congrats, Isao," Koga said, slapping my shoulder. "You're officially an Ace."
"Piece of cake," I joked, though my heart was pounding. "I wanted a Gundam, and I got one."
"You reached the pinnacle, my friend," Koga replied. "You're the pilot of the most feared suit there is".
"You better become an Ace too," I told him. " "So we can both pilot Gundams and
We're gonna take those Zeeks together."
We fought through the horrors of space—the zero gravity, Space was a different beast—zero gravity, thruster management, and perfect timing. We were losing people to Rick Doms and those terrifying Bigro Mobile Armors.
"Keep them away from the ship!" I yelled over the comms, blasting Doms with my beam gun. When a Bigro charged Emma, I dashed in and sliced its claw off, sending it fleeing into the dark.
Then came Operation Cemballo—the attack on the space fortress Solomon. The Federation used the Solar System to melt the fortress gates, and we swarmed in. It was a massacre. Dozle Zabi tried to turn the tide in the Big Zam, destroying the flagship 'Titan', but it wasn't enough. Solomon fell. Next stop: A Baoa Qu. The night before the final battle, Koga and I had a drink in the hangar.
"You ready for the end?" I asked.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Koga said, looking at the stars.
"Hey, you've been chasing Ohara forever. Why haven't you told her how you feel?"
Koga laughed. "And get shot down right before the battle? That's a sad way to go, man. I'll tell her on Christmas when we're back on Earth. If I don't make it... you tell her for me."
December 31, U.C. 0079. The assault on A Baoa Qu was total chaos. We fought everything—Zakus, Doms, and the new Gelgoogs. I ran my ammo dry and purged my armor, finished the fight with nothing but a beam saber and whatever weapons I could scavenge from the wreckage.
On January 1, U.C. 0080, the war officially ended with the Granada Treaty. We headed back to Naha Base by October. I decided to stay a soldier; the pay was good, and my "adopted" family at the base was all I had left. My Gundam was repaired and redesignated as the RX-78-1. It looked sharp with its new yellow V-fin and new paint job, thanks to Masao who is Naha Best mechanic. Koga was still playing it cool with Ohara, promising to make his move on Christmas. In November, the base was supposed to receive a white RX-78-2 for Koga to pilot. But the Zeeks didn't get the memo about the war being over.
"CODE RED! ZEON INVASION!"
I scrambled to my Gundam as the base was hit by Zakus, Doms, and a red Gouf Custom piloted by an Ace named Zuckerberg. Zeon remnants raided the base. He was a monster, moving like a Newtype. He was tearing through our tanks like they were paper. I tried to pin him down, I was stunned by his heat rod, unable to move. I saw Koga running toward the hangar, He wasn't even in his pilot suit; he was wearing our old school uniform. Zuckerberg ditched his Gouf, sprinted into the hangar, and I thought Koga was the one in the cockpit until the Gundam turned its guns on me.
"Stop messing around, Koga!" I screamed.
But it wasn't Koga. The mechanic, Masao, screamed over the radio that Zuckerberg had shot Koga dead and then used the Gundam to stomp his body into the dirt. My blood boiled. I went into a blind rage, Everything went red. I charged him in a blind rage,but Zuckerberg was too good. He beat me down with a shield bash and missiles before escaping with the stolen Gundam. When I got to the hangar floor, there was nothing left of my best friend but a gruesome smear of guts and bone. I buried him at Shikina-en. I traded my pilot suit for Koga's old school uniform. That's what I wear into the cockpit now—a reminder of where we came from and what I have to avenge. My buddy, the guy who taught me about the pinnacle, was gone. Swearing I wouldn't take it off until Zuckerberg was dead.
A month later, new faces arrived: Lydia Mercer, Barry Abbot, and a Newtype named Aaron Smith. We got new suits, too—the GM Type C and the Zaku II F2. I joined Aaron's "Shiisaa-team," training every day to be ready for the day I saw that Zuckerberg again.
Now, it's the Obon festival. I spent the morning cleaning Koga's grave and praying for the strength to kill the man who took him. That night, while the city was celebrating with Eisa dances, Ohara and I were on patrol, watching the crowds.
"I missed this festival," Ohara said softly. "If Koga was still alive, he wouldn't have missed a second of it."
The weight in my chest became unbearable. My heart felt like lead. I led her away from the crowds to a quiet spot.
"Ohara, there's something I have to tell you," I said, my hands trembling. "Koga... he was like my brother. He taught me what it meant to be at the top, I should wait until I kill Zuckerberg, but I have to tell you," I said, my hands trembling. "Koga... he wasn't just hitting on you. He wanted to be close to you. He reached his pinnacle, but losing him was a punch to the gut for all of us".
Ohara looked at me, her eyes sad. "I know he did. Losing him... it still hurts."
"There's more," I started. "Koga—"
*CRACKLE.*
My walkie-talkie hissed, cutting me off. "Captain Isao! Lieutenant Ohara! Get to the rendezvous point, now!"
The moment was gone. Ohara ran back toward the base, and I stood there in the dark.
Ohara turned to leave, telling me we'd talk later. I watched her go, the words still stuck in my throat. I have to find Zuckerberg. I have to finish this so I can finally give Koga the peace he deserves and I still had a debt of blood to pay.
'To be continued.'