Something that's been preying on my mind for the last while. It's a manga-verse take-off of BR which has Moroboshi Ataru from UY (with the ninja skills I gave him for the fanfic series The Senior Year I co-created with Mike Smith) as a player in an earlier "episode" . . . then he discovers some way to save players and give them new lives for themselves.
The text is very long, so there's another part coming right after this.
Fred
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K?zu-shima (140 kilometres south-southwest of T?ky?), three years ago . . .
"Let this serve as official notification that Tomobiki Junior High School Year Three Class D has successfully concluded this week's Program." An amused chuckle echoed over the volcanic island that formed one of the Izu-shot?, one of the several chains of islands leading south from T?ky? Bay towards the Marianas. "Sorry about that, Moroboshi-kun, but there are certain formalities that must be acknowledged."
"I must personally confess that I believe the DVD collection for this particular episode will sell through the roof, especially among the martial arts fanatics out there," Kamon Yonemi stated as the soldiers assigned to this particular episode of The Program -- officially designated Event 64/04 -- monitored the lone man walking calmly through the forest towards the elementary school that had served as base camp for the Internal Security Ministry's team watching over this event. "Your personal profile never said anything about you practicing the martial arts, Moroboshi-kun." A chuckle. "Well, surprises do happen on occasion, though we do try our best to control them. Anyhow, have a safe walk back to the hut. The helicopter's on its way."
Out in the forest, a lone man with the body of a track runner and shaggy brown hair styled off the collar slowly walked between the trees, clearly unbothered by the sights of dead people around him, most of them shot with either guns or arrows, the others stabbed by knives. The looks on their faces ranged from either total surprise to twisted anger to looks of peace and acceptance. Though the lone survivor -- he hardly saw himself as having "won" this sick game -- did not focus his eyes on any of them, he couldn't help but note who they were. And while he ached deep in his heart at the senseless deaths of forty-one of his classmates over the previous two-and-a-half days, he wasn't in full control of his body . . . and hadn't been that way since he had woken inside one of the classrooms at K?zu-shima Elementary School with a Model 22 "Guadalcanal" explosive-equipped tracking collar wrapped around his neck, soon to learn he would either have to kill to survive within the next three days or be dead.
Fortunately for him, Moroboshi Ataru had some help in that regard.
Was this the ONLY way to do that, OnÛ-san?
A voice that sounded like all the dead of the Greater East Asia War speaking out from their graves then echoed from somewhere deep within his mind, It was necessary, Ataru. The tactical situation was against us in every aspect. The overall social and cultural situation surrounding this event also was against us even if we somehow aided all your classmates in trying to resist the Program. The only true solution -- both immediate and long-term -- was to 'play' to survive. We did that. A pause, and then that dark voice added, Be thankful that for those we had to confront directly, we were merciful to them. They did not suffer before their spirits slipped into the DÓo.
He nodded. So what do we do now?
We await Noa's coming to us. When I discussed this possibility with her several weeks ago on her last trip to Tomobiki, she vowed that once we were alive and free of the government's surveillance, we will be extracted and taken to Sagussa. Once there, the Promise can at last be fulfilled and we can live separate lives.
Another nod. It'll be so strange seeing them all again.
Their love for you is enormous, Ataru, that voice then advised. Far greater than anything your blood-relatives or few friends have ever expressed. Living with them will be much more desirable than living a virtual pariah here in Japan, known throughout the country as a person who survived while so many of his peers died.
True . . .
* * *
Tomobiki (west of T?ky?), two hours later . . .
"There it is, Young Master."
Mend? Sh?tar? took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled as he turned to gaze to the south as a lone Republic Army helicopter moved to land on the nearby helipad. Like many of the people standing there awaiting the arrival of this week's Program winner, he felt a mixed storm of emotions deep in his heart. His usual feelings of disgust when it came to Moroboshi Ataru, a man who fancied himself a ladies' man yet acted like a total boor when it came to their female schoolmates. The sense of relief at knowing that since another class at Tomobiki Junior High had been selected to participate in The Program, he and his own friends in Class 3-C were totally safe. The horror and sadness -- thought held back by years of self-discipline and the belief in bushid? he had been trained to hold more dear than his own life -- at the thought of forty-one of his schoolmates having died in the service of their nation. And . . .
Admiration . . .?
"Amazing that he survived virtually unscathed."
Hearing that comment from Aisuru Satoshi, Mend? nodded. "Hai, Megane-san," he affirmed, calling the other man by his preferred nickname. "You would never suspect such a thing from Moroboshi of all people. He was in excellent physical condition and he did have some martial arts knowledge . . . " -- his hand gripped the shingunt? that he carried with him at all times; being the elder son of one of the richest families in all of the Greater East Asia Republic, he was exempted from the standing regulations when it came to carrying personal weapons so he could defend himself against hooligans who might want to target him to obtain bribe money from his parents -- " . . . but I never suspected he was something quite like what we saw on the television."
"How did he learn that sort of stuff, anyway?" Urayamu Akira then asked. He -- along with Megane's other friends, Shitto K?suke and Daremo Hiroyuki; "Chibi," "Perm" and "Kakugari" as they were normally known as -- had come together with the scion of the Mend? fortune to await the arrival of their old elementary school classmate. "I never saw him go to a martial arts d?j?. And he doesn't have one at home."
"Don't know, Chibi," Megane breathed out.
"See his dad?" Perm asked.
The others gazed on him. "What do you mean?" Kakugari asked.
"When we were watching this in the school gymnasium," Perm said. "I looked at his dad shortly after Ataru made his first kill. He looked like he recognised something -- something that was plain EVIL! -- in what Ataru was doing."
The others considered that as the helicopter flared to a landing. "What could such be?" Mend? wondered as the side door opened, allowing two white-clad soldiers of the Non-Aggressive Defensive Army to step out, and then they moved to help someone else -- a person dressed in the standard dark blue gakuran that was normal school dress for over half the junior high and high schools in the Republic -- to disembark.
"ATARU-KUN!"
The five men watched as a sobbing Miyake Shinobu raced out of the crowd of well-wishers towards Ataru. Watching the survivor of this week's Program episode, Mend? was quick to note the other man perk on hearing his childhood friend cry out his name, and then he stood still as she moved to hug him . . . only to side-step at the last moment, allowing poor Shinobu to trip over his outstretched foot and slam face-first into the asphalt of the landing pad. Without any sort of acknowledgement to her whatsoever, Ataru then slipped his hands into his pockets, and then moved to head for the main gate, AWAY from his peers and teachers who had gathered to welcome him home.
"Moroboshi . . . " Mend? breathed out, outrage billowing deep in his heart on seeing the beautiful Shinobu treated in such at fashion. "How DARE . . .?!"
"Leave it, Mend?."
He stopped, turning to stare wide-eyed at Megane. "Megane-san . . .?"
"If YOU had been the one who had just come off that helicopter after being forced to fight through the Program of all things, how would YOU feel?" the other man asked as he gazed at the young scion of the Mend? fortune.
Mend? considered that for a moment, and then nodded. "Young Master, your orders?" the Kuromegane that had been standing close by then asked.
A sigh. "Let Moroboshi leave the grounds unmolested," Mend? ordered as he gazed on the crowd that had been waiting for Ataru, all of whom hadn't moved from where they had been standing, they watching silently as Ataru walked away from them, none moving to go after him. "He obviously needs time alone after what he's endured."
A deep bow. "Hai."
* * *
On a street near the Moroboshi home, fifteen minutes later . . .
We are not being followed.
"Good. Where's Noa?"
"Right here."
Ataru stopped on hearing that lilting voice, and then he turned to gaze wide-eyed at the older woman that had just stepped out of the alley to his right. Dressed in somewhat plain clothes -- jeans, T-shirt, cardigan-knit sweater, sunglasses -- she had stylishly-tapered red-brown hair and dark blue eyes on a face that looked almost Ainu-ish from a distance. Of course, Ataru knew this woman wasn't Ainu or any other of the known races that were native to Japan . . . to say anything of Earth itself.
"Hi."
"Hi," Aruka Noa breathed out before she walked over to gently draw the younger man -- both physically and chronologically -- into her arms. "You're safe."
"Where is everyone?"
"Right now, aboard the Hasei'cha," she stated as she pulled away to gaze into his soft brown eyes. "We retrieved all your personal belongings from your house. Lufy and Priss both expressed their deep displeasure at your parents' lack of support when it came to your surviving the Program. Pity those two ki-mei'aidoei didn't survive long, especially after Lufy told them about what really happened to Kaeru."
Ataru perked. "Oh?!" he trilled, clearly not caring a bit over what happened to his parents Muchi and Kinsh?. "That must have gone over well!"
Noa giggled. "Oh, it did. Especially after a subspace message was sent to Nagussa and Kaeru told your parents right to their faces -- figuratively -- that he wished to have nothing to do with the 'rampantly illogical, immoral and corrupt society' they were a part of . . . and that he did not acknowledge as his own."
He staggered, grasping his chest as if he was about to suffer a heart attack. "Oh, that must have really hit them heart! You're so cruel, Noa-chan!"
Both of them shared a look, and then they laughed before warmly embracing once more. "So . . . are you ready to leave this rampantly illogical, immoral and corrupt society as well, my beloved daimon'cha?" Noa then whispered into his ear.
A sigh. "Take us home, my sweet and perfect ashi'cha."
"Hai."
A second later, a ringing noise that would make most Star Trek fans immediately think of a transporter being energised echoed through the streets of Tomobiki . . .
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Vengeance of the Phoenix
by Fred Herriot
Based on Battle Royale, created by Takami K?shun; and Urusei Yatsura, created by Takahashi Rumiko.
Including characters from Kid? Keisatsu Patlabor, created by Headgear (Oshii Mamoru, It? Kazunori, Izubuchi Yutaka, Takada Akemi and Y?ki Masami); Gall Force and Bubblegum Crisis, created by ARTMIC, Youmex and AIC; NOÙL, created by Pioneer LDC;
Also including characters and situations from the fanfic series The Senior Year, created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot.
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WRITER'S INTRODUCTION: Another plot-bunny that's been preying on my mind for the last while, which wasn't totally satiated when I included the Battle Royale characters in Avalonians and Questors. This story -- while still conforming to the history of the Greater East Asia Republic as I came up with in A&Q -- has Moroboshi Ataru as an actual near-peer of the Shiroiwa gang as well as a Program survivor. And as always with my work, Ataru did (as demonstrated in the teaser) serve as the host-body for the Saik? Jinseijutsu, also known as Moroboshi Negako. For those familiar with both A&Q and its prequel story Phoenix from the Ashes, Ataru will not wind up with more sisters than before; I don't want to overcomplicate this story. All daishi'cha mentioned here are -- as was what was depicted in The Senior Year -- namesakes of the characters they resemble from the various anime and manga series listed in the title blurb; unlike what I did for initial drafts of TSY, there will be no "-chan" or other indentifier behind their name to tell them apart from their namesakes (if they appear in the same scene).
So sit back and enjoy!
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At Lagrange Point One, close to the Moon, today . . .
" . . . dumb-ass bird . . . call. Hear it? I gotta . . . gotta go . . . "
"Go where?"
Silence.
A surprised gasp escaped the muscular and tall man who had lying on the bed as he bolted up, looking wildly around for a moment before the strangeness of the room he was in made him pause and blink as his mind started to take in all the weird details. Painted a soft white overall, it had a futuristic feel to it, though it was clearly meant as more of a guest room at some hotel than anyone's permanent living quarters. As he took that in, he noted a nightstand to one side of the circular bed he was in -- which was large enough to fit a couple of people comfortably -- with a lamp and what appeared to be some sort of mini-laptop computer on it. He then looked around to see a doorway -- probably leading to a bathroom -- a large, oval-shaped window with shutters closed over it, a small living area with what appeared to be a television on a table, two couches, a coffee table and a lone reclining chair, then a set of doors without handles leading out to somewhere else, and then a small dresser unit where . . .
"Keiko . . . "
The tall and statuesque young woman with the long brown hair done in a thick French braid and the deep brown eyes smiled as she rose from the chair beside the dresser unit, moving over to sit down on his bed. "Hey, Mister Smug," he said as she reached over to pass a hand over Kawada Sh?go's chest, which made him jolt in shock on feeling a real hand touch him. "Can you figure out what just happened to you?"
He blinked in confusion. "I died and went to Heaven."
She shook her head. "No, this isn't Heaven. Try again."
More silence.
"Oh, fuck!" he breathed out. "We're in Hell, right?"
"No, this isn't Hell either," she teased. "Try again."
Still more silence.
"We're alive . . .?"
Inoue Keiko nodded. "Yeah, we're alive. Everyone from Event 67/19 -- that's the official code for the 'episode' you and your friends were involved in -- except for two people." She then smirked. "You helped TWO people ESCAPE the Program. Why?"
Sh?go blinked before he sighed. "I had to know."
She blinked. "About what?"
"If I could feel like you wanted me to do."
Keiko blinked as she looked at him, and then she smiled. "Baka . . . "
She then leaned in to kiss him hard. Surprised by that show of raw emotion from his would-be girlfriend -- whether or not they really had dated before that dark weekend a year before when his life was forever changed thanks to the Program -- Sh?go remained still for a moment, and then he relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her to draw her into his lap. Feeling her up -- though he still felt himself too much of a gentleman to not touch her in more intimate places -- he was quick to sense that she had no obvious wounds of her body and that whatever had brought her back to life had also restored her to what appeared to be a perfect level of physical health. What the fuck could that be?! the once-volunteer scrub nurse for a doctor that had worked in the poorer sections of K?be then wondered. The government makes DAMN sure that there are no survivors save for the set 'winner' of any Program episode! Kamon told me that before I gave him a pencil tracheotomy! How the fuck is Keiko still ALIVE . . .?!
Keiko then pulled away from him as she fixed him with a knowing look. "Magic."
"Huh?"
"How I'm alive," she admitted as she leaned her forehead against his. "Sorry. Your thoughts were broadcasting so loudly to me, I couldn't help but listen in."
Sh?go blinked again. "Magic?"
"Well, it's actually described as a high form of meta-psionics," she explained. "I don't understand half of it, so I just equate it to a form of magic." Keiko then smirked as she gently passed her fingers over his chest. "The people who rescued our old class, your current class and all the other classes that were forced to 'play' have such a high level of technology -- genetics, meta-physics, all the standard sciences and even types of sciences I don't even BEGIN to understand -- that it was quite possible for them to snare our very SOULS from our bodies just as we were about to reach the point where any form of resuccistation could have saved us . . . and then they deposted those souls into new bodies cloned from our original ones." She then pulled up her hand to gaze at it. "With some interesting add-ons."
He tensed. "Like what?"
"Telepathy," she answered matter-of-factly. "Empathy. An eight-hundred year lifespan compared to what's normal for Terrans. A very fast healing factor that just gobbles up disease viruses like a kid eating cotton candy."
Silence.
"I can't believe that," he then declared, shaking his head.
She smiled sympathetically at him. "That's what I said a year ago when it happened to me." Taking a deep breath, she got up and walked over to the dresser, opening it to pull out what looked like a golf shirt and a pair of track pants, then she pulled out a pair of slippers. Noting that, Sh?go was quick to see Keiko dressed in a similar fashion, though her shirt had a stylised firebird insignia over her left breast, her name in scripted R?maji on her right breast and a weird glyph system running along the seam of her pant legs. "These were prepared for you ahead of time," she said as she placed the clothes on the bed. "Our benefactors don't believe in underwear, but you won't need them; the pants have moisture capture fibres that'll catch anything. You won't need to go to the washroom just yet; your body is fresh out of a gestation tank, so you haven't eaten anything yet. I'll let you get dressed."
And with a wink, she walked to the doorway, it swooshing open to reveal a hallway of some sort beyond. After she walked through it, the door automatically closed behind her. Some sort of motion-sensor system? he wondered as he moved to slip the covers away from his body, and then he picked up the clothes. Pausing as he scanned around to find a mirror, he then hummed as he gazed on the other doorway leading out of this room. Shrugging, he then walked toward it. Instantly, the door opened, which made him jolt before he sighed. "Oh, man! Convenient," he breathed out before walking in, and then he relaxed. "Okay, standard high-tech bathroom," he mused before his grey eyes locked on what he needed to use. "Ah, there you are!"
With that, he walked over to stare at himself in the mirror . . .
. . . and then he gaped. "Holy SHIT!"
What looked back was not what he had been like when he was still attending K?be Second District Junior High School. And it certainly wasn't what he had looked like when he attending Shiroiwa Junior High School just before being sucked once more into the Program. His body resembled what he should have turned out to be at his current age had he not "played" at all in that sickest of all games. Full head of almost-black hair to the level of his collar, parted in the centre and styled in ragged bangs over his forehead and ears. No scars anywhere on his body, not even those the Program had marked on his face. Perfect muscle tone everywhere; Shit! I almost look like a bulkier version of that Sugihara guy who was in the class! he mused . . .
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
He jolted on hearing that very feminine shriek, and then spun around . . .
. . . to see a madly-blushing girl who was also quite naked and carrying the same type of clothes he had been given standing at the OTHER doorway leading into the bathroom. Quickly moving to cover himself, Sh?go turned away. "Sorry!"
"I'm sorry!" the girl cried out as she looked away.
He then perked on recognising that voice. "Minami?!"
She perked, and then turned to stare at him, revealing a plump face with acne scars and freckles under it, black hair that went to the shoulder and wide, innocent blue eyes, though not under glasses. "Who . . .?" she began before her eyes locked on his face, and then the colour vanished from her cheeks as she began to quake. "No . . .!" she gasped, her eyes instantly tearing as she tried to stumble back from the door. "No, please, Sh?go-san . . . don't hurt me . . . please don't hurt me . . .!"
She soon got far away enough for said door to close, blocking her view of him. Sh?go remained still for a moment, and then he moaned. "Oh, fuck . . . I need a damned smoke!" he muttered before turning to walk out of the bathroom into his bedroom again. Quickly slipping on his trousers and shirt -- he was quick to note that his name was written with a macron over the first "o" -- he then moved to put on his shoes, and then marched over to the main door, it opening as he came close. Stepping into the hallway, he looked one way, and then turned . . . before crying out on seein Keiko standing there. "Damn it, Keiko! Don't scare me like that!" he spat out.
She moaned. "What happened?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Oh, nothing much!" he stated in a mock-casual way. "Other than my finding out I'm sharing a bathroom with a girl I put a fuckin' SHOTGUN ROUND into on that damned island where we were forced to PLAY! Who's fuckin' idea was THAT, anyhow?!"
Keiko blinked, and then she moaned. "Ayumu . . . "
He stopped. "Huh?"
A shake of the head. "Sorry about that, Sh?go. The Sagussans who are helping us mean well, but they sometimes don't get things right." Keiko looked behind her to the door one down from Sh?go's. "Who's in Minami Kaori's room?!" she called out.
The door then whooshed open to reveal a tall woman with blonde-brown hair, pale blue eyes and freckles on a face that had a certain Western cant to it. "Just me, Keiko-chan," said woman said in a clearly accented voice. "She's okay."
"Can you get someone to put a security lock on her bathroom door, then do the same to Sh?go's bathroom door so they don't surprise each other, Sempai?"
"Hai, hai!" And with that, the door was closed.
Sh?go blinked. "Who's she?"
"Nishimura Tina-sempai," Keiko explained. "K?ka Girl's Academy, Junior Year Three, Class A, out from Yokohama. They 'played' the year before we did, the tenth episode that year." She took a deep breath. "They were the first ones to be rescued this way; they just got cleared to help out with recovery support whenever the Sagussans go out to rescue everyone from dying, just like you guys almost did."
He blinked several times. "Who are the Sagussans?"
Keiko smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Something alien?"
A nod. "Yeah. C'mon, let me get you something to eat and I'll show you."
With that, they headed back into his quarters. Motioning him to sit down on the bed, Keiko then walked over to the nightstand and tapped a control. "Inoue to Bridge."
"Bridge, Okano here."
"Yuka-sempai, is someone coming around with the breakfast tray soon?"
"About ten minutes. I assume you would-be hubby's awake."
Sh?go jolted as Keiko tried not to blush too much. "Sempai . . .!"
An amused laugh. "Well, you begged the people running this show to come out since Sh?go-kun WAS doing a repeat run, Keiko-chan!" said person scolded.
"Can you tell the galley staff to hurry it up, please?" she wondered.
"Hai!"
The link was cut, and then Keiko sighed as she moved to head to the window. "Ready?" she asked as she gazed in expectation at him.
He nodded. She then flicked a control, which made the window shutters retract up to reveal solid, pitch-black night beyond, that dotted with many stars . . . and a familiar half-globe shape way off in the distance. As the view towards Earth was opened up, Keiko tried not to wince on sensing the flood of shock and disbelief surge up through her would-be boyfriend's heart, and then she gave him a sympathetic look. "We're about three hundred thousand kilometres away from T?ky? right now," she said. "Well out of range of any sort of satellite surveillance system, so no one on Earth is aware that we're up here. It's about two days after your episode ended, so all we can do concerning Sh?ya and Noriko is track them down and make them disappear."
"They'll be in K?be," he advised after finding it within himself to talk once more after realising he was in deep space somewhere close to Earth. "I told them to head that way before I passed out on the boat and wound up here. Some people my old man knew who would be willing to help out with getting them to the States."
"Alright, I'll pass that up," she said, nodding in appreciation, and then she sighed. "You obviously have some questions. You might as well start asking."
"Are we really . . . well, 'us?!'"
Keiko blinked before she gazed at him. "Yes," she said with a firm nod. "The device that was used to pull your soul out of your body is . . . " A shrug. "Well, in layman's terms, it literally warps Reality to whatever the person using it wants to have happen. If you want to punch back in time to save someone from literally dying -- as we hope to do eventually with all the Program players all the way back from 1947 when this whole insanity started -- then that's what this device does." She then reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a diamond-shaped crystal. "Once your soul was freed from its original body, it was placed in something like this." She tossed it to him, smiling as he caught it single-handedly. "It's called 'meson,' which is short for 'mesonium.' It's got a very high atomic number and doesn't exist naturally. But once it's created, it's incredibly stable and able to resist anything, especially if it's charged up with any sort of energy. Like the electrical impulses that fire up our brains." As he gaped at her, she added, "Once your soul was placed into that crystal, it was then inserted into the body you have right now. Cloned as I said before, but upgraded to Sagussan norms, not Terran. I told you all the advantages about it already." A sigh. "Once your soul fully meshed in with your new brain, the meson then disintegrated into molecules that flood your blood-stream, augmenting the regenerative enzymes -- something produced by your body's lympth nodes and pumped right into your blood or so I'm told -- and helping you stay healthy within reason." She held up her finger. "It's a one-time deal, though. If you die this time, that's it."
"It's either Heaven or Hell for us," he mused before tossing the crystal back.
She caught it. "Yeah. Our hosts don't believe in that sort of thing -- as soon as you fully awaken to your new body's abilities, you'll understand why -- but you have to admit, living like this is much better than dying as a 'player' in some sick game forced on us by the government for whatever warped reason has kept driving it for sixty-four years." Slipping the crystal into her pocket, she crossed her arms as if she was hugging herself. "It's not a bad life. We're living on a planet over 33,000 light-years from here. Practically Earth-normal climate, though it's somewhat like the Sahara Desert these days with a lot more water. They're making it better every step of the way. And if current Earth technology develops as it's going right now, it'll be centuries before our people could get out there. And hopefully by then . . . "
"No Greater East Asia Republic," he finished for her.
A nod. "Yeah."
"So who are these . . . Sagussans, you called them?"
A chuckle. "You ever hear of the 'Silent Killer?'"
Sh?go perked. "Wait a sec' . . . " he breathed out, and then he nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of him! He played in one of the early episodes three years ago, right?"
"Event 64/04," Keiko supplied. "Tomobiki Junior High School, Class 3-D. Moroboshi Ataru is his name." She sighed. "It turns out that the Sagussans had met up with him eleven years ago, just before he started elementary school. Back then, they were emotionless robots, like Vulcans from Star Trek. The why is pretty easy to understand, but I'll explain that later." She gazed at him. "They all share the same type of powers we have. Telepathy -- touch-telepathy -- and empathy. Therer were a hundred thousand of them. Perfect logic machines. And a six year-old boy was brought in amongst them for two whole months. Guess what happened to them."
He blinked as he considered that, and then he whistled. "Damn . . . "
"Yeah," she said. "So when he was forced to play in the Program, they -- and they were monitoring him covertly -- were quite pissed off. In a way, they helped make sure he survived it, then whisked him away after he was brought back to Tomobiki. After he recovered from what happened, he decided that since it wasn't just plain fair that he survived when so many others didn't, he'd use the Sagussans' technology to save everyone he could. Starting with Yuka-sempai's and Tina-sempai's class two years ago, he had ships sent here to pick everyone up -- save for the survivors, though they're watched over by automated reconnaissance probes -- before they pass on into whatever awaits us in the next life." A smirk. "And no one in Japan is any the wiser."
Silence fell as the doctor's son from K?be considered that, a nod slowly twitching his head as he considered what had just been revealed to him. "Damn! Who the hell would suspect this sort of thing?" he wondered as an admiring smile crossed his face, and then he sobered up. "I take it informing the relatives . . . "
"That was left to the members of each class to decide what to do," she admitted. "I can tell you that right from Tina-sempai's classes onward, people have pretty much voted to NOT tell their relatives anything." At his surprised look, she explained, "In their eyes, the fact that our parents just sit back and let the Program carry on without stopping it is reason enough to 'stay dead' in their eyes. Why give them the right to be happy to know their baby ultimately survived the Program?" A snort. "Just like you said to that mother who's baby got scalded that one time. Remember that?" At his nod, she sighed. "If our parents and all the elders in our society don't seem to care about what happens when we're made to kill or be killed, why should we make them happy by revealing to them that we all survived? Or will survive once the Sagussans figure out a way to go after the people from before Tina-sempai's class who died?" A sigh. "Hopefully, one of these days, people in Japan will clue in and overthrow the Central Committee once and for all time." The Central Committee was the senior ruling body of the Greater East Asia Republic, the council ruled by the Senior Chairman, the modern-day sh?gun who ruled the land in the absence of an heir to the long-dead Sh?wa Emperor, who -- with his whole family -- had been killed by a rogue Nazi atomic-tipped V-2 rocket launched from a barge towed by a U-boat back in 1945, the very year the Empire of Japan officially was re-named the "Republic of Greater East Asia."
"Doubt it'll happen anytime soon," he admitted. "With over two hundred million people in Japan and all the island territories around us -- AND with a still-growing birth rate -- there's loads of would-be 'players' out there for them to choose from."
A sad nod. "Yeah."
"So what are these Sagussans like? Are they human?"
A nod. "In almost every way that counts, they are. Some will look way too different from what we might accept as 'human' -- pointed ears, horn-buds on the head, wild skin colours from electric blue to dark green to a mettalic tan-brown shade, a race that look like Klingons from Star Trek, hair colours across the spectrum, people who have WINGS and TAILS like demons in Western mythology -- but they're all humanoid deep down in their heart. Red blood, you can have kids with them . . . " Keiko then smirked. "According to a theory their scientists like to use to explain it, there was this 'race X' that seeded the inhabited planets of the galaxy with DNA to allow whatever sentient species that grew up there to evolve in a way so that, when they all got out into space, they can interbreed with each other with no problems at all."
He hummed. "Weird, but I'll buy it." He then blinked. "So why didn't these Sagussans take Moroboshi away when they first met up with him?"
"Because they did respect the fact that he -- at the time -- did care for his parents, though they later turned out to be like those idiots who bet on who ends up winning a Program episode," she answered him. "When they came to get him three years ago, two of them went into his house to get his personal belongings." A shake of the head. "His mother was moaning about how unlucky she was to have a son that was too stupid to NOT get killed in the Program." As Sh?go gaped in shocked disbelief at her, she added, "And his father was just hiding himself behind the daily paper and not saying anything to her. Let's just say that when Lufy and Priss got to hear that, they decided to express their displeasure at them in a rather terminal manner."
He breathed out. "Fuck . . .!"
"Yeah," she said. "I guess after hearing that, Yuka-sempai and her friends all wondered if it was just worth it, running into parents who might actually be relieved to NOT have to worry about their children anymore." A shake of the head. "Well, it doesn't matter in the long run. We're alive, we're living our lives free and we can make new futures for ourselves and our friends. It's an easy trade-off . . . "
A chuckle. "Yeah . . . "
A chime echoed at the door. "Come!" Keiko called out.
The door opened to reveal a smiling woman in the same model of shirt-and-track pants Keiko had, though she had green-tinted black hair and chestnut eyes, the name Kotomi written on her breast. She was guiding in a floating cart -- Some sort of anti-gravity system? Sh?go thought to himself -- with large glasses full of what had to be some sort of milkshake-like drink. "Some breakfast for the hubby, Keiko-chan?"
Keiko blushed. "Kotomi-sempai . . .!"
Sh?go laughed . . .
* * *
A half-hour later . . .
"Damn . . . "
"Freakin' awesome, ain't it?"
Sh?go perked on hearing that voice, and then he turned to see a slender fellow with spiky grey-black hair and deep blue eyes walk up to stand beside him. Much to his amusement, the only two-time player (that he knew of) in the Program was quick to see the hoop rings hooked into the lower lobes of Mimura Shinji's ears. Where the hell did this wise guy get hold of them? Sh?go wondered before nodding as he gazed around the circular dual-level bridge of the rather LARGE spaceship they were now aboard. "Yeah, it is," he admitted. "You startin' to hit on all the girls aboard the ship already?"
"You mean girls like Kaho-sempai?" Shinji asked as he gazed in appreciation at Shimizu Kaho, a green-eyed girl with deep red hair who was now leaning over Okano Yuka's shoulder to check out some system on the ship; neither of the just-revived Shiroiwa Junior High School students had been given much of a tour, though Keiko had gone back down belowdecks to make sure everything was okay with the thirty-eight other people who had been literally reborn this day. "Nah! I'm willing to wait until we get back to Sagussa and check out all the babes there! You hear about that?!"
A smirk. "Every teenage heterosexual and bisexual man's -- and bisexual and lesbian woman's -- wet dream come true, magnified to the nth degree," Sh?go mused before taking a moment to sip from the delicious shake that had been prepared for him. "At least Moroboshi's willing to SHARE! How big was the count in the end?!"
"A hundred-and-four thousand, nine hundred-and-fifteen Sagussans PLUS over two-point-five billion Avalonians. And ALL of them are good-looking GIRLS!" Shinji said, trying not to leer. "Gods, add all the people from the Program to that . . .!"
"When they get to rescuing them all," the other man advised.
"Amen to that," Shinji noted before sipping his own shake. "What are you going to do now, Mister Two-Time Player?" he asked. "We can't go home -- much that I don't think many of us COULD go home -- so we have to think of new lives for ourselves."
"Haven't thought that far ahead, Shinji," Sh?go admitted. "I'm still getting over the shock of being ALIVE, much less being reunited with Keiko."
Shinji nodded; Kaho had briefed him in on what had been going on with all of his classmates in preparing him to fully come to grips with what had happened on Oki-shima. Of course, Sh?go's story had impressed the younger man; to learn that someone had died because she had loved him THAT much -- and to grieve for that person to the point where he was willing to risk his life ONE MORE TIME in the cruicible of the Program to understand what her sacrifice meant -- was a really admirable thing. He then sighed as he remembered what else Kaho had told him about. "Hear about Kazuo and Mitsuko?"
A sigh. "Yeah, Keiko and Tina told me," Sh?go stated. "In a funny way, Kazuo had the most pure reason to fight in the Program. He never was taught the difference between right and wrong and he couldn't feel any sort of emotions. Kinda explains what he said before he passed on." At Shinji's questioning look, he quoted the former boy-gang leader, "'I can feel again.'" A shake of the head. "Definitely some extreme version of Kl³verûBucy Syndrome. Where you lose the ability to fear anything that could threaten you. In his case, he lost not only the ability to fear . . . "
"But to love, hate, like . . . " Shinji shuddered. "Jeez! Poor guy!"
Sh?go nodded. "He's going to have problems adjusting to being 'normal' again," he warned. "New body with a completely intact and operational pair of amygdalae. And since the accident that killed his mom happened when he was six, he's missed out on NINE years of developing normal human emotions." A sigh. "Hope there're some good psychologists on Sagussa who can help him out in that case. He'll need it."
"Not just him."
Sh?go blinked, and then he breathed out. "Yeah. Mitsuko, you mean."
"What type of sick fuck would RAPE a NINE year-old girl?" Shinji hissed.
"A sick fuck who deserves to be castrated," Sh?go mused. "Then again, Mitsuko did something just as bad. Sickin' a Yakuza fighter in to kill both him and her mom?"
Shinji chuckled. "Yeah! I will admit, that was class!" A shake of the head. "Damn! I used to think of her as a psycho-bitch from hell. But now . . . "
A nod. "I hear you, Shinji. I hear you."
"You want to hear something else?"
"What?"
"Y?ichir?'s got a big crush on her."
Silence.
"Y?ichir? . . . " Sh?go repeated as he tried to recall that name, and then his eyes widened as he recalled who that person was. "Oh, one of the little guys in the class! Takiguchi, right?! He's friends with Hatagami! The anime fan?!"
"Very same man," Shinji said. "He's having a ball looking over all the pictures of the Sagussans that he can access on his terminal in his bedroom, guessing all the names that Moroboshi-sempai gave them all. He's got them right almost all the time."
"You're kiddin' me!"
"No joking, amigo! He's in Heaven, that boy!"
Both men laughed . . .
* * *
In another cabin below-decks . . .
"So Ataru-sempai named as many girls as he could after characters from anime so that he didn't have to use their sequential numbers, right?"
"Hai," Wakura Kotomi said as she picked up the empty milkshake glass and placed it on the cart, then held out her hand to take the glass S?ma Mitsuko had in her hand, which she gave over with a slight nod of thanks. "It's rather strange that they would accept his giving them Earth-like names -- after all, there are loads of Sagussan names to chose from -- but since they all love him so much, they let him call them by those names." She smiled. "Not everyone has a name yet, but Sempai's working on it. We're joining in -- not to mention all the other classes that've been saved so far -- so hopefully soon enough, every one of the daishi'cha will have a name."
"And they were all reborn to help literally give birth to a whole new race on that planet?" Takiguchi Y?ichir? then asked. "To replace the one that died out there?"
A nod. "Hai." Kotomi then winked at them; like Keiko when it came to putting Kawada Sh?go and Minami Kaori in ajoining rooms, Kotomi was upset at the fact that Takiguchi Y?ichir? and S?ma Mitsuko were in ajoining room. Honestly! What the HELL is that Ayumu thinking of?! the green-haired former student of the K?ka Girl's Academy railed to herself yet again. "Anyhow, try not to go crazy with each other while I'm gone getting you some light snacks from the kitchen. It's okay to feel nervous with each other, but remember: You're NOT playing in the Program anymore! Alright?"
"Hai, Sempai!" Y?ichir? said with a grin as Mitsuko simply nodded.
With that, Kotomi headed out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Mitsuko breathed out as she crossed her arms. "So . . . what should we do, Y?ichir?-kun?" she asked, her voice far more timid and shy than what she had used when she had been together with Y?ichir? and his friend Hatagami Tadakatsu on Oki-shima.
He blinked, and then he sighed, though he did reach over to gently grasp her hand. A sense of relief then came over him as he sensed that she wasn't going to yank her hand away from him, and then he blushed as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder . . . just like a girl would normally do with a man she cared for when they were out on a date. And even though Y?ichir? knew what his current companion was all too capable of doing when she was provoked, he felt a small spark of hope that somehow, this terribly hurt and abused woman would finally crawl out of whatever emotional hell she had been forced to live through for the past five years, then go forth and live a life that wouldn't be dominated by teenage prostitution and petty thievery.
While he DID remember the last moments of his "first life" -- as he had come to call his time in this existence to the point where Mitsuko had driven her kama scythe into his throat while they were together on the northern side of Oki-shima -- when a nude Mitsuko had been trying desperately to "save" him from dying by having sex with him, he hoped she could finally overcome the horrid demons haunting her soul and be the beautiful person he believed deep down she was. And -- thanks to what Kotomi had told him about what Mitsuko had endured in her short life -- he realised now that she had been honestly trying to save him a couple nights before; the words he had said to her just before that happened had struck a deep chord within the young woman's fractured soul, touching the innocent child that was buried in her heart. All he had to do was keep using words like he had in those last few moments -- to NOT LEAVE HER when she clearly needed someone she could care for and TRUST the most! -- to help the "good" side of S?ma Mitsuko out of whatever cage trapped her now and make sure she would always remain in control for the remainder of their rather long lives.
"Well, I guess I could hold off on looking on a computer screen," he said as he tapped off the small unit on his nightstand. "After all, I've got the girl I've always thought of as the prettiest girl in the whole world in my cabin right now." As Mitsuko stared at him, he blushed. "And even now that I know what that girl's been through in her life, I . . . " He then bit his teeth before surging onto his feet.
"Y?ichir?!" she gasped.
He walked over to the window to gaze out into the starry night beyond; the cabin he had was on the starboard side of the vast command superstructure of a nine-kilometre long, swan-shaped vessel called the Lyna'cha, which meant that he could only see the Moon at a close distance in lieu of the Earth several hundred thousand kilometres away. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to gulp. "I . . . I really don't know the right words to say to you, Mitsuko-san," he then admitted as he looked over his shoulder at her. "If I flub it up somehow, please don't get mad at me."
A shudder raced through her, and then she looked away as she felt that warm, inviting stare emitting from his blue-green eyes wash over her. "Am I bad?"
He perked, and then he shook his head. "No. It's like I told you all along," he answered. "You were lost, Mitsuko-san. And now I kinda understand why you were lost. I . . . " He paused as he closed his eyes. "If you don't want talk about it -- or want me to talk about it -- well, I can understand that . . . "
Another shudder, this time with tears in her eyes. "Please don't . . . "
A nod. "O-okay," he said, and then he took a deep breath. "You've always been forced to go look for something. I guess it's really love that you want. And it's something we all want. But you never got it . . . and you were never taught how to find love and accept it as love. I . . . " He bit his lower lip. "I know you can't really trust people, Mitsuko-san. I'm not asking you to trust me. I've no right to demand anything of you. No one does. But . . . I want to help you discover the love you want, Mitsuko-san. I want to help you find what you're looking for . . . if you'll let me. So that you . . . " His own eyes began to tear. "You won't be lost anymore."
Seeing the young anime fan on the verge of breaking down and crying, Mitsuko froze as her heart seemed to skip several beats. Instantly, a coldness then gripped her heart as the image of a badly torn-up and dirty rag doll flashed through her mind.
He's taking our trust . . .
Y?ichir? blinked as he felt . . . something escape the girl in his room, and then he turned to see the woman seated on his bed staring at him with a pair of dead eyes that instantly made his heart go cold as he remembered other times he's seen that.
And it was the one thing he -- and so many others -- feared.
"Hardcore" S?ma.
"Liar . . .!"
"Mitsuko-san . . . "
Shuddering, she got up, moving to side-step away from him, retreating for the main door. "You're no different!" Mitsuko hissed out, her voice picking up in volume as she raised a shaking hand to point at him. "Just like every other man I've been with! You take my trust, you say nice words to me and then you LEAVE ME!"
"Mitsuko-san!"
With a scream, she turned to run out of the room . . .
. . . and then gasped as a hand clamped down HARD on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, making her cry out in shock as something surged right through her nervous system to overwhelm her. As she collapsed towards the deck, two strong arms then caught her, and then she was lifted gently into the arms of a woman looking to be about twenty or so, with long brown hair styled in curly bangs over her forehead and eyes of burning chestnuts on a face that had a particularly metallic-like tan. And on her right cheek was a curious tattoo looking like some sort of musical eighth note symbol crossed with a hunting knife. She was dressed in what Y?ichir? recognised was the standard duty uniform of a serviceman in the Sagussan Republic Navy: A dark blue short-sleeved jumpsuit with red trim that flowed into a stylised firebird-like symbol on her chest that showed off all the cleavage in the world, though she had dark green pants over her red buccanneer-style boots. On her shoulders were rectangular rank epaulettes similar to what American officers still loyal to the central government had worn on their tunic shoulders during the Civil War, said epaulettes bearing four square diamond-shaped studs in a row. Y?ichir? didn't know what the rank actually represented since he had only barely begun to study everything about the race that had saved his life before Mitsuko had come in to visit him. "Ano . . . " he began.
The woman who had stunned Mitsuko with a nerve pinch took a deep breath. "Lucky thing I was close by to keep a mental 'eye' on this kid," she mused . . .
* * *
The text is very long, so there's another part coming right after this.
Fred
**** **** ****
K?zu-shima (140 kilometres south-southwest of T?ky?), three years ago . . .
"Let this serve as official notification that Tomobiki Junior High School Year Three Class D has successfully concluded this week's Program." An amused chuckle echoed over the volcanic island that formed one of the Izu-shot?, one of the several chains of islands leading south from T?ky? Bay towards the Marianas. "Sorry about that, Moroboshi-kun, but there are certain formalities that must be acknowledged."
"I must personally confess that I believe the DVD collection for this particular episode will sell through the roof, especially among the martial arts fanatics out there," Kamon Yonemi stated as the soldiers assigned to this particular episode of The Program -- officially designated Event 64/04 -- monitored the lone man walking calmly through the forest towards the elementary school that had served as base camp for the Internal Security Ministry's team watching over this event. "Your personal profile never said anything about you practicing the martial arts, Moroboshi-kun." A chuckle. "Well, surprises do happen on occasion, though we do try our best to control them. Anyhow, have a safe walk back to the hut. The helicopter's on its way."
Out in the forest, a lone man with the body of a track runner and shaggy brown hair styled off the collar slowly walked between the trees, clearly unbothered by the sights of dead people around him, most of them shot with either guns or arrows, the others stabbed by knives. The looks on their faces ranged from either total surprise to twisted anger to looks of peace and acceptance. Though the lone survivor -- he hardly saw himself as having "won" this sick game -- did not focus his eyes on any of them, he couldn't help but note who they were. And while he ached deep in his heart at the senseless deaths of forty-one of his classmates over the previous two-and-a-half days, he wasn't in full control of his body . . . and hadn't been that way since he had woken inside one of the classrooms at K?zu-shima Elementary School with a Model 22 "Guadalcanal" explosive-equipped tracking collar wrapped around his neck, soon to learn he would either have to kill to survive within the next three days or be dead.
Fortunately for him, Moroboshi Ataru had some help in that regard.
Was this the ONLY way to do that, OnÛ-san?
A voice that sounded like all the dead of the Greater East Asia War speaking out from their graves then echoed from somewhere deep within his mind, It was necessary, Ataru. The tactical situation was against us in every aspect. The overall social and cultural situation surrounding this event also was against us even if we somehow aided all your classmates in trying to resist the Program. The only true solution -- both immediate and long-term -- was to 'play' to survive. We did that. A pause, and then that dark voice added, Be thankful that for those we had to confront directly, we were merciful to them. They did not suffer before their spirits slipped into the DÓo.
He nodded. So what do we do now?
We await Noa's coming to us. When I discussed this possibility with her several weeks ago on her last trip to Tomobiki, she vowed that once we were alive and free of the government's surveillance, we will be extracted and taken to Sagussa. Once there, the Promise can at last be fulfilled and we can live separate lives.
Another nod. It'll be so strange seeing them all again.
Their love for you is enormous, Ataru, that voice then advised. Far greater than anything your blood-relatives or few friends have ever expressed. Living with them will be much more desirable than living a virtual pariah here in Japan, known throughout the country as a person who survived while so many of his peers died.
True . . .
* * *
Tomobiki (west of T?ky?), two hours later . . .
"There it is, Young Master."
Mend? Sh?tar? took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled as he turned to gaze to the south as a lone Republic Army helicopter moved to land on the nearby helipad. Like many of the people standing there awaiting the arrival of this week's Program winner, he felt a mixed storm of emotions deep in his heart. His usual feelings of disgust when it came to Moroboshi Ataru, a man who fancied himself a ladies' man yet acted like a total boor when it came to their female schoolmates. The sense of relief at knowing that since another class at Tomobiki Junior High had been selected to participate in The Program, he and his own friends in Class 3-C were totally safe. The horror and sadness -- thought held back by years of self-discipline and the belief in bushid? he had been trained to hold more dear than his own life -- at the thought of forty-one of his schoolmates having died in the service of their nation. And . . .
Admiration . . .?
"Amazing that he survived virtually unscathed."
Hearing that comment from Aisuru Satoshi, Mend? nodded. "Hai, Megane-san," he affirmed, calling the other man by his preferred nickname. "You would never suspect such a thing from Moroboshi of all people. He was in excellent physical condition and he did have some martial arts knowledge . . . " -- his hand gripped the shingunt? that he carried with him at all times; being the elder son of one of the richest families in all of the Greater East Asia Republic, he was exempted from the standing regulations when it came to carrying personal weapons so he could defend himself against hooligans who might want to target him to obtain bribe money from his parents -- " . . . but I never suspected he was something quite like what we saw on the television."
"How did he learn that sort of stuff, anyway?" Urayamu Akira then asked. He -- along with Megane's other friends, Shitto K?suke and Daremo Hiroyuki; "Chibi," "Perm" and "Kakugari" as they were normally known as -- had come together with the scion of the Mend? fortune to await the arrival of their old elementary school classmate. "I never saw him go to a martial arts d?j?. And he doesn't have one at home."
"Don't know, Chibi," Megane breathed out.
"See his dad?" Perm asked.
The others gazed on him. "What do you mean?" Kakugari asked.
"When we were watching this in the school gymnasium," Perm said. "I looked at his dad shortly after Ataru made his first kill. He looked like he recognised something -- something that was plain EVIL! -- in what Ataru was doing."
The others considered that as the helicopter flared to a landing. "What could such be?" Mend? wondered as the side door opened, allowing two white-clad soldiers of the Non-Aggressive Defensive Army to step out, and then they moved to help someone else -- a person dressed in the standard dark blue gakuran that was normal school dress for over half the junior high and high schools in the Republic -- to disembark.
"ATARU-KUN!"
The five men watched as a sobbing Miyake Shinobu raced out of the crowd of well-wishers towards Ataru. Watching the survivor of this week's Program episode, Mend? was quick to note the other man perk on hearing his childhood friend cry out his name, and then he stood still as she moved to hug him . . . only to side-step at the last moment, allowing poor Shinobu to trip over his outstretched foot and slam face-first into the asphalt of the landing pad. Without any sort of acknowledgement to her whatsoever, Ataru then slipped his hands into his pockets, and then moved to head for the main gate, AWAY from his peers and teachers who had gathered to welcome him home.
"Moroboshi . . . " Mend? breathed out, outrage billowing deep in his heart on seeing the beautiful Shinobu treated in such at fashion. "How DARE . . .?!"
"Leave it, Mend?."
He stopped, turning to stare wide-eyed at Megane. "Megane-san . . .?"
"If YOU had been the one who had just come off that helicopter after being forced to fight through the Program of all things, how would YOU feel?" the other man asked as he gazed at the young scion of the Mend? fortune.
Mend? considered that for a moment, and then nodded. "Young Master, your orders?" the Kuromegane that had been standing close by then asked.
A sigh. "Let Moroboshi leave the grounds unmolested," Mend? ordered as he gazed on the crowd that had been waiting for Ataru, all of whom hadn't moved from where they had been standing, they watching silently as Ataru walked away from them, none moving to go after him. "He obviously needs time alone after what he's endured."
A deep bow. "Hai."
* * *
On a street near the Moroboshi home, fifteen minutes later . . .
We are not being followed.
"Good. Where's Noa?"
"Right here."
Ataru stopped on hearing that lilting voice, and then he turned to gaze wide-eyed at the older woman that had just stepped out of the alley to his right. Dressed in somewhat plain clothes -- jeans, T-shirt, cardigan-knit sweater, sunglasses -- she had stylishly-tapered red-brown hair and dark blue eyes on a face that looked almost Ainu-ish from a distance. Of course, Ataru knew this woman wasn't Ainu or any other of the known races that were native to Japan . . . to say anything of Earth itself.
"Hi."
"Hi," Aruka Noa breathed out before she walked over to gently draw the younger man -- both physically and chronologically -- into her arms. "You're safe."
"Where is everyone?"
"Right now, aboard the Hasei'cha," she stated as she pulled away to gaze into his soft brown eyes. "We retrieved all your personal belongings from your house. Lufy and Priss both expressed their deep displeasure at your parents' lack of support when it came to your surviving the Program. Pity those two ki-mei'aidoei didn't survive long, especially after Lufy told them about what really happened to Kaeru."
Ataru perked. "Oh?!" he trilled, clearly not caring a bit over what happened to his parents Muchi and Kinsh?. "That must have gone over well!"
Noa giggled. "Oh, it did. Especially after a subspace message was sent to Nagussa and Kaeru told your parents right to their faces -- figuratively -- that he wished to have nothing to do with the 'rampantly illogical, immoral and corrupt society' they were a part of . . . and that he did not acknowledge as his own."
He staggered, grasping his chest as if he was about to suffer a heart attack. "Oh, that must have really hit them heart! You're so cruel, Noa-chan!"
Both of them shared a look, and then they laughed before warmly embracing once more. "So . . . are you ready to leave this rampantly illogical, immoral and corrupt society as well, my beloved daimon'cha?" Noa then whispered into his ear.
A sigh. "Take us home, my sweet and perfect ashi'cha."
"Hai."
A second later, a ringing noise that would make most Star Trek fans immediately think of a transporter being energised echoed through the streets of Tomobiki . . .
**** **** ****
Vengeance of the Phoenix
by Fred Herriot
Based on Battle Royale, created by Takami K?shun; and Urusei Yatsura, created by Takahashi Rumiko.
Including characters from Kid? Keisatsu Patlabor, created by Headgear (Oshii Mamoru, It? Kazunori, Izubuchi Yutaka, Takada Akemi and Y?ki Masami); Gall Force and Bubblegum Crisis, created by ARTMIC, Youmex and AIC; NOÙL, created by Pioneer LDC;
Also including characters and situations from the fanfic series The Senior Year, created by Mike Smith and Fred Herriot.
**** **** ****
WRITER'S INTRODUCTION: Another plot-bunny that's been preying on my mind for the last while, which wasn't totally satiated when I included the Battle Royale characters in Avalonians and Questors. This story -- while still conforming to the history of the Greater East Asia Republic as I came up with in A&Q -- has Moroboshi Ataru as an actual near-peer of the Shiroiwa gang as well as a Program survivor. And as always with my work, Ataru did (as demonstrated in the teaser) serve as the host-body for the Saik? Jinseijutsu, also known as Moroboshi Negako. For those familiar with both A&Q and its prequel story Phoenix from the Ashes, Ataru will not wind up with more sisters than before; I don't want to overcomplicate this story. All daishi'cha mentioned here are -- as was what was depicted in The Senior Year -- namesakes of the characters they resemble from the various anime and manga series listed in the title blurb; unlike what I did for initial drafts of TSY, there will be no "-chan" or other indentifier behind their name to tell them apart from their namesakes (if they appear in the same scene).
So sit back and enjoy!
**** **** ****
At Lagrange Point One, close to the Moon, today . . .
" . . . dumb-ass bird . . . call. Hear it? I gotta . . . gotta go . . . "
"Go where?"
Silence.
A surprised gasp escaped the muscular and tall man who had lying on the bed as he bolted up, looking wildly around for a moment before the strangeness of the room he was in made him pause and blink as his mind started to take in all the weird details. Painted a soft white overall, it had a futuristic feel to it, though it was clearly meant as more of a guest room at some hotel than anyone's permanent living quarters. As he took that in, he noted a nightstand to one side of the circular bed he was in -- which was large enough to fit a couple of people comfortably -- with a lamp and what appeared to be some sort of mini-laptop computer on it. He then looked around to see a doorway -- probably leading to a bathroom -- a large, oval-shaped window with shutters closed over it, a small living area with what appeared to be a television on a table, two couches, a coffee table and a lone reclining chair, then a set of doors without handles leading out to somewhere else, and then a small dresser unit where . . .
"Keiko . . . "
The tall and statuesque young woman with the long brown hair done in a thick French braid and the deep brown eyes smiled as she rose from the chair beside the dresser unit, moving over to sit down on his bed. "Hey, Mister Smug," he said as she reached over to pass a hand over Kawada Sh?go's chest, which made him jolt in shock on feeling a real hand touch him. "Can you figure out what just happened to you?"
He blinked in confusion. "I died and went to Heaven."
She shook her head. "No, this isn't Heaven. Try again."
More silence.
"Oh, fuck!" he breathed out. "We're in Hell, right?"
"No, this isn't Hell either," she teased. "Try again."
Still more silence.
"We're alive . . .?"
Inoue Keiko nodded. "Yeah, we're alive. Everyone from Event 67/19 -- that's the official code for the 'episode' you and your friends were involved in -- except for two people." She then smirked. "You helped TWO people ESCAPE the Program. Why?"
Sh?go blinked before he sighed. "I had to know."
She blinked. "About what?"
"If I could feel like you wanted me to do."
Keiko blinked as she looked at him, and then she smiled. "Baka . . . "
She then leaned in to kiss him hard. Surprised by that show of raw emotion from his would-be girlfriend -- whether or not they really had dated before that dark weekend a year before when his life was forever changed thanks to the Program -- Sh?go remained still for a moment, and then he relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her to draw her into his lap. Feeling her up -- though he still felt himself too much of a gentleman to not touch her in more intimate places -- he was quick to sense that she had no obvious wounds of her body and that whatever had brought her back to life had also restored her to what appeared to be a perfect level of physical health. What the fuck could that be?! the once-volunteer scrub nurse for a doctor that had worked in the poorer sections of K?be then wondered. The government makes DAMN sure that there are no survivors save for the set 'winner' of any Program episode! Kamon told me that before I gave him a pencil tracheotomy! How the fuck is Keiko still ALIVE . . .?!
Keiko then pulled away from him as she fixed him with a knowing look. "Magic."
"Huh?"
"How I'm alive," she admitted as she leaned her forehead against his. "Sorry. Your thoughts were broadcasting so loudly to me, I couldn't help but listen in."
Sh?go blinked again. "Magic?"
"Well, it's actually described as a high form of meta-psionics," she explained. "I don't understand half of it, so I just equate it to a form of magic." Keiko then smirked as she gently passed her fingers over his chest. "The people who rescued our old class, your current class and all the other classes that were forced to 'play' have such a high level of technology -- genetics, meta-physics, all the standard sciences and even types of sciences I don't even BEGIN to understand -- that it was quite possible for them to snare our very SOULS from our bodies just as we were about to reach the point where any form of resuccistation could have saved us . . . and then they deposted those souls into new bodies cloned from our original ones." She then pulled up her hand to gaze at it. "With some interesting add-ons."
He tensed. "Like what?"
"Telepathy," she answered matter-of-factly. "Empathy. An eight-hundred year lifespan compared to what's normal for Terrans. A very fast healing factor that just gobbles up disease viruses like a kid eating cotton candy."
Silence.
"I can't believe that," he then declared, shaking his head.
She smiled sympathetically at him. "That's what I said a year ago when it happened to me." Taking a deep breath, she got up and walked over to the dresser, opening it to pull out what looked like a golf shirt and a pair of track pants, then she pulled out a pair of slippers. Noting that, Sh?go was quick to see Keiko dressed in a similar fashion, though her shirt had a stylised firebird insignia over her left breast, her name in scripted R?maji on her right breast and a weird glyph system running along the seam of her pant legs. "These were prepared for you ahead of time," she said as she placed the clothes on the bed. "Our benefactors don't believe in underwear, but you won't need them; the pants have moisture capture fibres that'll catch anything. You won't need to go to the washroom just yet; your body is fresh out of a gestation tank, so you haven't eaten anything yet. I'll let you get dressed."
And with a wink, she walked to the doorway, it swooshing open to reveal a hallway of some sort beyond. After she walked through it, the door automatically closed behind her. Some sort of motion-sensor system? he wondered as he moved to slip the covers away from his body, and then he picked up the clothes. Pausing as he scanned around to find a mirror, he then hummed as he gazed on the other doorway leading out of this room. Shrugging, he then walked toward it. Instantly, the door opened, which made him jolt before he sighed. "Oh, man! Convenient," he breathed out before walking in, and then he relaxed. "Okay, standard high-tech bathroom," he mused before his grey eyes locked on what he needed to use. "Ah, there you are!"
With that, he walked over to stare at himself in the mirror . . .
. . . and then he gaped. "Holy SHIT!"
What looked back was not what he had been like when he was still attending K?be Second District Junior High School. And it certainly wasn't what he had looked like when he attending Shiroiwa Junior High School just before being sucked once more into the Program. His body resembled what he should have turned out to be at his current age had he not "played" at all in that sickest of all games. Full head of almost-black hair to the level of his collar, parted in the centre and styled in ragged bangs over his forehead and ears. No scars anywhere on his body, not even those the Program had marked on his face. Perfect muscle tone everywhere; Shit! I almost look like a bulkier version of that Sugihara guy who was in the class! he mused . . .
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
He jolted on hearing that very feminine shriek, and then spun around . . .
. . . to see a madly-blushing girl who was also quite naked and carrying the same type of clothes he had been given standing at the OTHER doorway leading into the bathroom. Quickly moving to cover himself, Sh?go turned away. "Sorry!"
"I'm sorry!" the girl cried out as she looked away.
He then perked on recognising that voice. "Minami?!"
She perked, and then turned to stare at him, revealing a plump face with acne scars and freckles under it, black hair that went to the shoulder and wide, innocent blue eyes, though not under glasses. "Who . . .?" she began before her eyes locked on his face, and then the colour vanished from her cheeks as she began to quake. "No . . .!" she gasped, her eyes instantly tearing as she tried to stumble back from the door. "No, please, Sh?go-san . . . don't hurt me . . . please don't hurt me . . .!"
She soon got far away enough for said door to close, blocking her view of him. Sh?go remained still for a moment, and then he moaned. "Oh, fuck . . . I need a damned smoke!" he muttered before turning to walk out of the bathroom into his bedroom again. Quickly slipping on his trousers and shirt -- he was quick to note that his name was written with a macron over the first "o" -- he then moved to put on his shoes, and then marched over to the main door, it opening as he came close. Stepping into the hallway, he looked one way, and then turned . . . before crying out on seein Keiko standing there. "Damn it, Keiko! Don't scare me like that!" he spat out.
She moaned. "What happened?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Oh, nothing much!" he stated in a mock-casual way. "Other than my finding out I'm sharing a bathroom with a girl I put a fuckin' SHOTGUN ROUND into on that damned island where we were forced to PLAY! Who's fuckin' idea was THAT, anyhow?!"
Keiko blinked, and then she moaned. "Ayumu . . . "
He stopped. "Huh?"
A shake of the head. "Sorry about that, Sh?go. The Sagussans who are helping us mean well, but they sometimes don't get things right." Keiko looked behind her to the door one down from Sh?go's. "Who's in Minami Kaori's room?!" she called out.
The door then whooshed open to reveal a tall woman with blonde-brown hair, pale blue eyes and freckles on a face that had a certain Western cant to it. "Just me, Keiko-chan," said woman said in a clearly accented voice. "She's okay."
"Can you get someone to put a security lock on her bathroom door, then do the same to Sh?go's bathroom door so they don't surprise each other, Sempai?"
"Hai, hai!" And with that, the door was closed.
Sh?go blinked. "Who's she?"
"Nishimura Tina-sempai," Keiko explained. "K?ka Girl's Academy, Junior Year Three, Class A, out from Yokohama. They 'played' the year before we did, the tenth episode that year." She took a deep breath. "They were the first ones to be rescued this way; they just got cleared to help out with recovery support whenever the Sagussans go out to rescue everyone from dying, just like you guys almost did."
He blinked several times. "Who are the Sagussans?"
Keiko smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Something alien?"
A nod. "Yeah. C'mon, let me get you something to eat and I'll show you."
With that, they headed back into his quarters. Motioning him to sit down on the bed, Keiko then walked over to the nightstand and tapped a control. "Inoue to Bridge."
"Bridge, Okano here."
"Yuka-sempai, is someone coming around with the breakfast tray soon?"
"About ten minutes. I assume you would-be hubby's awake."
Sh?go jolted as Keiko tried not to blush too much. "Sempai . . .!"
An amused laugh. "Well, you begged the people running this show to come out since Sh?go-kun WAS doing a repeat run, Keiko-chan!" said person scolded.
"Can you tell the galley staff to hurry it up, please?" she wondered.
"Hai!"
The link was cut, and then Keiko sighed as she moved to head to the window. "Ready?" she asked as she gazed in expectation at him.
He nodded. She then flicked a control, which made the window shutters retract up to reveal solid, pitch-black night beyond, that dotted with many stars . . . and a familiar half-globe shape way off in the distance. As the view towards Earth was opened up, Keiko tried not to wince on sensing the flood of shock and disbelief surge up through her would-be boyfriend's heart, and then she gave him a sympathetic look. "We're about three hundred thousand kilometres away from T?ky? right now," she said. "Well out of range of any sort of satellite surveillance system, so no one on Earth is aware that we're up here. It's about two days after your episode ended, so all we can do concerning Sh?ya and Noriko is track them down and make them disappear."
"They'll be in K?be," he advised after finding it within himself to talk once more after realising he was in deep space somewhere close to Earth. "I told them to head that way before I passed out on the boat and wound up here. Some people my old man knew who would be willing to help out with getting them to the States."
"Alright, I'll pass that up," she said, nodding in appreciation, and then she sighed. "You obviously have some questions. You might as well start asking."
"Are we really . . . well, 'us?!'"
Keiko blinked before she gazed at him. "Yes," she said with a firm nod. "The device that was used to pull your soul out of your body is . . . " A shrug. "Well, in layman's terms, it literally warps Reality to whatever the person using it wants to have happen. If you want to punch back in time to save someone from literally dying -- as we hope to do eventually with all the Program players all the way back from 1947 when this whole insanity started -- then that's what this device does." She then reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a diamond-shaped crystal. "Once your soul was freed from its original body, it was placed in something like this." She tossed it to him, smiling as he caught it single-handedly. "It's called 'meson,' which is short for 'mesonium.' It's got a very high atomic number and doesn't exist naturally. But once it's created, it's incredibly stable and able to resist anything, especially if it's charged up with any sort of energy. Like the electrical impulses that fire up our brains." As he gaped at her, she added, "Once your soul was placed into that crystal, it was then inserted into the body you have right now. Cloned as I said before, but upgraded to Sagussan norms, not Terran. I told you all the advantages about it already." A sigh. "Once your soul fully meshed in with your new brain, the meson then disintegrated into molecules that flood your blood-stream, augmenting the regenerative enzymes -- something produced by your body's lympth nodes and pumped right into your blood or so I'm told -- and helping you stay healthy within reason." She held up her finger. "It's a one-time deal, though. If you die this time, that's it."
"It's either Heaven or Hell for us," he mused before tossing the crystal back.
She caught it. "Yeah. Our hosts don't believe in that sort of thing -- as soon as you fully awaken to your new body's abilities, you'll understand why -- but you have to admit, living like this is much better than dying as a 'player' in some sick game forced on us by the government for whatever warped reason has kept driving it for sixty-four years." Slipping the crystal into her pocket, she crossed her arms as if she was hugging herself. "It's not a bad life. We're living on a planet over 33,000 light-years from here. Practically Earth-normal climate, though it's somewhat like the Sahara Desert these days with a lot more water. They're making it better every step of the way. And if current Earth technology develops as it's going right now, it'll be centuries before our people could get out there. And hopefully by then . . . "
"No Greater East Asia Republic," he finished for her.
A nod. "Yeah."
"So who are these . . . Sagussans, you called them?"
A chuckle. "You ever hear of the 'Silent Killer?'"
Sh?go perked. "Wait a sec' . . . " he breathed out, and then he nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of him! He played in one of the early episodes three years ago, right?"
"Event 64/04," Keiko supplied. "Tomobiki Junior High School, Class 3-D. Moroboshi Ataru is his name." She sighed. "It turns out that the Sagussans had met up with him eleven years ago, just before he started elementary school. Back then, they were emotionless robots, like Vulcans from Star Trek. The why is pretty easy to understand, but I'll explain that later." She gazed at him. "They all share the same type of powers we have. Telepathy -- touch-telepathy -- and empathy. Therer were a hundred thousand of them. Perfect logic machines. And a six year-old boy was brought in amongst them for two whole months. Guess what happened to them."
He blinked as he considered that, and then he whistled. "Damn . . . "
"Yeah," she said. "So when he was forced to play in the Program, they -- and they were monitoring him covertly -- were quite pissed off. In a way, they helped make sure he survived it, then whisked him away after he was brought back to Tomobiki. After he recovered from what happened, he decided that since it wasn't just plain fair that he survived when so many others didn't, he'd use the Sagussans' technology to save everyone he could. Starting with Yuka-sempai's and Tina-sempai's class two years ago, he had ships sent here to pick everyone up -- save for the survivors, though they're watched over by automated reconnaissance probes -- before they pass on into whatever awaits us in the next life." A smirk. "And no one in Japan is any the wiser."
Silence fell as the doctor's son from K?be considered that, a nod slowly twitching his head as he considered what had just been revealed to him. "Damn! Who the hell would suspect this sort of thing?" he wondered as an admiring smile crossed his face, and then he sobered up. "I take it informing the relatives . . . "
"That was left to the members of each class to decide what to do," she admitted. "I can tell you that right from Tina-sempai's classes onward, people have pretty much voted to NOT tell their relatives anything." At his surprised look, she explained, "In their eyes, the fact that our parents just sit back and let the Program carry on without stopping it is reason enough to 'stay dead' in their eyes. Why give them the right to be happy to know their baby ultimately survived the Program?" A snort. "Just like you said to that mother who's baby got scalded that one time. Remember that?" At his nod, she sighed. "If our parents and all the elders in our society don't seem to care about what happens when we're made to kill or be killed, why should we make them happy by revealing to them that we all survived? Or will survive once the Sagussans figure out a way to go after the people from before Tina-sempai's class who died?" A sigh. "Hopefully, one of these days, people in Japan will clue in and overthrow the Central Committee once and for all time." The Central Committee was the senior ruling body of the Greater East Asia Republic, the council ruled by the Senior Chairman, the modern-day sh?gun who ruled the land in the absence of an heir to the long-dead Sh?wa Emperor, who -- with his whole family -- had been killed by a rogue Nazi atomic-tipped V-2 rocket launched from a barge towed by a U-boat back in 1945, the very year the Empire of Japan officially was re-named the "Republic of Greater East Asia."
"Doubt it'll happen anytime soon," he admitted. "With over two hundred million people in Japan and all the island territories around us -- AND with a still-growing birth rate -- there's loads of would-be 'players' out there for them to choose from."
A sad nod. "Yeah."
"So what are these Sagussans like? Are they human?"
A nod. "In almost every way that counts, they are. Some will look way too different from what we might accept as 'human' -- pointed ears, horn-buds on the head, wild skin colours from electric blue to dark green to a mettalic tan-brown shade, a race that look like Klingons from Star Trek, hair colours across the spectrum, people who have WINGS and TAILS like demons in Western mythology -- but they're all humanoid deep down in their heart. Red blood, you can have kids with them . . . " Keiko then smirked. "According to a theory their scientists like to use to explain it, there was this 'race X' that seeded the inhabited planets of the galaxy with DNA to allow whatever sentient species that grew up there to evolve in a way so that, when they all got out into space, they can interbreed with each other with no problems at all."
He hummed. "Weird, but I'll buy it." He then blinked. "So why didn't these Sagussans take Moroboshi away when they first met up with him?"
"Because they did respect the fact that he -- at the time -- did care for his parents, though they later turned out to be like those idiots who bet on who ends up winning a Program episode," she answered him. "When they came to get him three years ago, two of them went into his house to get his personal belongings." A shake of the head. "His mother was moaning about how unlucky she was to have a son that was too stupid to NOT get killed in the Program." As Sh?go gaped in shocked disbelief at her, she added, "And his father was just hiding himself behind the daily paper and not saying anything to her. Let's just say that when Lufy and Priss got to hear that, they decided to express their displeasure at them in a rather terminal manner."
He breathed out. "Fuck . . .!"
"Yeah," she said. "I guess after hearing that, Yuka-sempai and her friends all wondered if it was just worth it, running into parents who might actually be relieved to NOT have to worry about their children anymore." A shake of the head. "Well, it doesn't matter in the long run. We're alive, we're living our lives free and we can make new futures for ourselves and our friends. It's an easy trade-off . . . "
A chuckle. "Yeah . . . "
A chime echoed at the door. "Come!" Keiko called out.
The door opened to reveal a smiling woman in the same model of shirt-and-track pants Keiko had, though she had green-tinted black hair and chestnut eyes, the name Kotomi written on her breast. She was guiding in a floating cart -- Some sort of anti-gravity system? Sh?go thought to himself -- with large glasses full of what had to be some sort of milkshake-like drink. "Some breakfast for the hubby, Keiko-chan?"
Keiko blushed. "Kotomi-sempai . . .!"
Sh?go laughed . . .
* * *
A half-hour later . . .
"Damn . . . "
"Freakin' awesome, ain't it?"
Sh?go perked on hearing that voice, and then he turned to see a slender fellow with spiky grey-black hair and deep blue eyes walk up to stand beside him. Much to his amusement, the only two-time player (that he knew of) in the Program was quick to see the hoop rings hooked into the lower lobes of Mimura Shinji's ears. Where the hell did this wise guy get hold of them? Sh?go wondered before nodding as he gazed around the circular dual-level bridge of the rather LARGE spaceship they were now aboard. "Yeah, it is," he admitted. "You startin' to hit on all the girls aboard the ship already?"
"You mean girls like Kaho-sempai?" Shinji asked as he gazed in appreciation at Shimizu Kaho, a green-eyed girl with deep red hair who was now leaning over Okano Yuka's shoulder to check out some system on the ship; neither of the just-revived Shiroiwa Junior High School students had been given much of a tour, though Keiko had gone back down belowdecks to make sure everything was okay with the thirty-eight other people who had been literally reborn this day. "Nah! I'm willing to wait until we get back to Sagussa and check out all the babes there! You hear about that?!"
A smirk. "Every teenage heterosexual and bisexual man's -- and bisexual and lesbian woman's -- wet dream come true, magnified to the nth degree," Sh?go mused before taking a moment to sip from the delicious shake that had been prepared for him. "At least Moroboshi's willing to SHARE! How big was the count in the end?!"
"A hundred-and-four thousand, nine hundred-and-fifteen Sagussans PLUS over two-point-five billion Avalonians. And ALL of them are good-looking GIRLS!" Shinji said, trying not to leer. "Gods, add all the people from the Program to that . . .!"
"When they get to rescuing them all," the other man advised.
"Amen to that," Shinji noted before sipping his own shake. "What are you going to do now, Mister Two-Time Player?" he asked. "We can't go home -- much that I don't think many of us COULD go home -- so we have to think of new lives for ourselves."
"Haven't thought that far ahead, Shinji," Sh?go admitted. "I'm still getting over the shock of being ALIVE, much less being reunited with Keiko."
Shinji nodded; Kaho had briefed him in on what had been going on with all of his classmates in preparing him to fully come to grips with what had happened on Oki-shima. Of course, Sh?go's story had impressed the younger man; to learn that someone had died because she had loved him THAT much -- and to grieve for that person to the point where he was willing to risk his life ONE MORE TIME in the cruicible of the Program to understand what her sacrifice meant -- was a really admirable thing. He then sighed as he remembered what else Kaho had told him about. "Hear about Kazuo and Mitsuko?"
A sigh. "Yeah, Keiko and Tina told me," Sh?go stated. "In a funny way, Kazuo had the most pure reason to fight in the Program. He never was taught the difference between right and wrong and he couldn't feel any sort of emotions. Kinda explains what he said before he passed on." At Shinji's questioning look, he quoted the former boy-gang leader, "'I can feel again.'" A shake of the head. "Definitely some extreme version of Kl³verûBucy Syndrome. Where you lose the ability to fear anything that could threaten you. In his case, he lost not only the ability to fear . . . "
"But to love, hate, like . . . " Shinji shuddered. "Jeez! Poor guy!"
Sh?go nodded. "He's going to have problems adjusting to being 'normal' again," he warned. "New body with a completely intact and operational pair of amygdalae. And since the accident that killed his mom happened when he was six, he's missed out on NINE years of developing normal human emotions." A sigh. "Hope there're some good psychologists on Sagussa who can help him out in that case. He'll need it."
"Not just him."
Sh?go blinked, and then he breathed out. "Yeah. Mitsuko, you mean."
"What type of sick fuck would RAPE a NINE year-old girl?" Shinji hissed.
"A sick fuck who deserves to be castrated," Sh?go mused. "Then again, Mitsuko did something just as bad. Sickin' a Yakuza fighter in to kill both him and her mom?"
Shinji chuckled. "Yeah! I will admit, that was class!" A shake of the head. "Damn! I used to think of her as a psycho-bitch from hell. But now . . . "
A nod. "I hear you, Shinji. I hear you."
"You want to hear something else?"
"What?"
"Y?ichir?'s got a big crush on her."
Silence.
"Y?ichir? . . . " Sh?go repeated as he tried to recall that name, and then his eyes widened as he recalled who that person was. "Oh, one of the little guys in the class! Takiguchi, right?! He's friends with Hatagami! The anime fan?!"
"Very same man," Shinji said. "He's having a ball looking over all the pictures of the Sagussans that he can access on his terminal in his bedroom, guessing all the names that Moroboshi-sempai gave them all. He's got them right almost all the time."
"You're kiddin' me!"
"No joking, amigo! He's in Heaven, that boy!"
Both men laughed . . .
* * *
In another cabin below-decks . . .
"So Ataru-sempai named as many girls as he could after characters from anime so that he didn't have to use their sequential numbers, right?"
"Hai," Wakura Kotomi said as she picked up the empty milkshake glass and placed it on the cart, then held out her hand to take the glass S?ma Mitsuko had in her hand, which she gave over with a slight nod of thanks. "It's rather strange that they would accept his giving them Earth-like names -- after all, there are loads of Sagussan names to chose from -- but since they all love him so much, they let him call them by those names." She smiled. "Not everyone has a name yet, but Sempai's working on it. We're joining in -- not to mention all the other classes that've been saved so far -- so hopefully soon enough, every one of the daishi'cha will have a name."
"And they were all reborn to help literally give birth to a whole new race on that planet?" Takiguchi Y?ichir? then asked. "To replace the one that died out there?"
A nod. "Hai." Kotomi then winked at them; like Keiko when it came to putting Kawada Sh?go and Minami Kaori in ajoining rooms, Kotomi was upset at the fact that Takiguchi Y?ichir? and S?ma Mitsuko were in ajoining room. Honestly! What the HELL is that Ayumu thinking of?! the green-haired former student of the K?ka Girl's Academy railed to herself yet again. "Anyhow, try not to go crazy with each other while I'm gone getting you some light snacks from the kitchen. It's okay to feel nervous with each other, but remember: You're NOT playing in the Program anymore! Alright?"
"Hai, Sempai!" Y?ichir? said with a grin as Mitsuko simply nodded.
With that, Kotomi headed out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Mitsuko breathed out as she crossed her arms. "So . . . what should we do, Y?ichir?-kun?" she asked, her voice far more timid and shy than what she had used when she had been together with Y?ichir? and his friend Hatagami Tadakatsu on Oki-shima.
He blinked, and then he sighed, though he did reach over to gently grasp her hand. A sense of relief then came over him as he sensed that she wasn't going to yank her hand away from him, and then he blushed as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder . . . just like a girl would normally do with a man she cared for when they were out on a date. And even though Y?ichir? knew what his current companion was all too capable of doing when she was provoked, he felt a small spark of hope that somehow, this terribly hurt and abused woman would finally crawl out of whatever emotional hell she had been forced to live through for the past five years, then go forth and live a life that wouldn't be dominated by teenage prostitution and petty thievery.
While he DID remember the last moments of his "first life" -- as he had come to call his time in this existence to the point where Mitsuko had driven her kama scythe into his throat while they were together on the northern side of Oki-shima -- when a nude Mitsuko had been trying desperately to "save" him from dying by having sex with him, he hoped she could finally overcome the horrid demons haunting her soul and be the beautiful person he believed deep down she was. And -- thanks to what Kotomi had told him about what Mitsuko had endured in her short life -- he realised now that she had been honestly trying to save him a couple nights before; the words he had said to her just before that happened had struck a deep chord within the young woman's fractured soul, touching the innocent child that was buried in her heart. All he had to do was keep using words like he had in those last few moments -- to NOT LEAVE HER when she clearly needed someone she could care for and TRUST the most! -- to help the "good" side of S?ma Mitsuko out of whatever cage trapped her now and make sure she would always remain in control for the remainder of their rather long lives.
"Well, I guess I could hold off on looking on a computer screen," he said as he tapped off the small unit on his nightstand. "After all, I've got the girl I've always thought of as the prettiest girl in the whole world in my cabin right now." As Mitsuko stared at him, he blushed. "And even now that I know what that girl's been through in her life, I . . . " He then bit his teeth before surging onto his feet.
"Y?ichir?!" she gasped.
He walked over to the window to gaze out into the starry night beyond; the cabin he had was on the starboard side of the vast command superstructure of a nine-kilometre long, swan-shaped vessel called the Lyna'cha, which meant that he could only see the Moon at a close distance in lieu of the Earth several hundred thousand kilometres away. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to gulp. "I . . . I really don't know the right words to say to you, Mitsuko-san," he then admitted as he looked over his shoulder at her. "If I flub it up somehow, please don't get mad at me."
A shudder raced through her, and then she looked away as she felt that warm, inviting stare emitting from his blue-green eyes wash over her. "Am I bad?"
He perked, and then he shook his head. "No. It's like I told you all along," he answered. "You were lost, Mitsuko-san. And now I kinda understand why you were lost. I . . . " He paused as he closed his eyes. "If you don't want talk about it -- or want me to talk about it -- well, I can understand that . . . "
Another shudder, this time with tears in her eyes. "Please don't . . . "
A nod. "O-okay," he said, and then he took a deep breath. "You've always been forced to go look for something. I guess it's really love that you want. And it's something we all want. But you never got it . . . and you were never taught how to find love and accept it as love. I . . . " He bit his lower lip. "I know you can't really trust people, Mitsuko-san. I'm not asking you to trust me. I've no right to demand anything of you. No one does. But . . . I want to help you discover the love you want, Mitsuko-san. I want to help you find what you're looking for . . . if you'll let me. So that you . . . " His own eyes began to tear. "You won't be lost anymore."
Seeing the young anime fan on the verge of breaking down and crying, Mitsuko froze as her heart seemed to skip several beats. Instantly, a coldness then gripped her heart as the image of a badly torn-up and dirty rag doll flashed through her mind.
He's taking our trust . . .
Y?ichir? blinked as he felt . . . something escape the girl in his room, and then he turned to see the woman seated on his bed staring at him with a pair of dead eyes that instantly made his heart go cold as he remembered other times he's seen that.
And it was the one thing he -- and so many others -- feared.
"Hardcore" S?ma.
"Liar . . .!"
"Mitsuko-san . . . "
Shuddering, she got up, moving to side-step away from him, retreating for the main door. "You're no different!" Mitsuko hissed out, her voice picking up in volume as she raised a shaking hand to point at him. "Just like every other man I've been with! You take my trust, you say nice words to me and then you LEAVE ME!"
"Mitsuko-san!"
With a scream, she turned to run out of the room . . .
. . . and then gasped as a hand clamped down HARD on the juncture between her neck and shoulder, making her cry out in shock as something surged right through her nervous system to overwhelm her. As she collapsed towards the deck, two strong arms then caught her, and then she was lifted gently into the arms of a woman looking to be about twenty or so, with long brown hair styled in curly bangs over her forehead and eyes of burning chestnuts on a face that had a particularly metallic-like tan. And on her right cheek was a curious tattoo looking like some sort of musical eighth note symbol crossed with a hunting knife. She was dressed in what Y?ichir? recognised was the standard duty uniform of a serviceman in the Sagussan Republic Navy: A dark blue short-sleeved jumpsuit with red trim that flowed into a stylised firebird-like symbol on her chest that showed off all the cleavage in the world, though she had dark green pants over her red buccanneer-style boots. On her shoulders were rectangular rank epaulettes similar to what American officers still loyal to the central government had worn on their tunic shoulders during the Civil War, said epaulettes bearing four square diamond-shaped studs in a row. Y?ichir? didn't know what the rank actually represented since he had only barely begun to study everything about the race that had saved his life before Mitsuko had come in to visit him. "Ano . . . " he began.
The woman who had stunned Mitsuko with a nerve pinch took a deep breath. "Lucky thing I was close by to keep a mental 'eye' on this kid," she mused . . .
* * *
