Zero Sum Game, page 19
As the fear lessened its hold on her heart and body, a new emotion crept in: embarrassment. If she was honest with herself, a little bit of shame and depression also. Some protector I turned out to be, she thought. I ran when I got my first chance. When it came to the flight-or-fight instinct, I was flight all the way.
The thought saddened her. She should have fought Fujiya, to get as much information as she could from him about Shimizu's next step. She hadn't expected to see a Noigel, a real breathing alien, standing in front of her. She hadn't realized how big and strong he was. How could she fight something like that; someone like him? A professional soldier versus an eighth grade schoolgirl.
Those were excuses; she had been scared and she had run. What would Voice's former owner think of her? Would he had given her the suit if he could have looked into her heart and seen how easily scared she got? What did Voice himself think? She almost asked, then closed her mouth without saying anything. Her makeup was finished and she stared in the mirror. She looked pretty, she admitted. She didn't look brave.
She put away her makeup and walked onto the balcony. She rested one knee on top of the air-conditioner generator (grateful her father always had her clean it) and leaned on her forearms against the railing, dangling her hands over the side. She heard small yells and screams. Two kids, a boy and a girl, chased each other in the street below. She looked both ways, making sure the street was clear. They were first or second graders, running with abandon and fun. The girl wore a bright yellow randoseru, its flap decorated with anime characters. Hina recognized them as the latest incarnation of PreCure, the popular magical girl anime. She smiled to herself, she had often watched the same anime series when she was a child. The boy pushed the girl, she took off running and the boy gave chase. They ran until the girl stopped and took a step backwards. The boy smashed into the hard backpack and went sprawling to the ground. They laughed; the boy stood back up, and ran after her.
Hina's eyes followed the cartoon randoseru until the girl was out of sight. She remembered watching those anime as a kid; the brave heroines fighting monsters from other dimensions, who were bent on finding some objects of power so they could release an evil being and bring an innocent world to an end. Isn't that what Shimizu is doing? she thought. He may not be searching for magical diamonds or pieces of a star, but he was intent on destroying an innocent world. The similarity made her uncomfortable. She wasn't a magical girl kicking and punching her way towards peace. She was a scared teenager who ran, not fought. Am I that different from the girls of Sailor Moon or PreCure? she wondered. Yes, those girls fought monsters and looked cool doing it.
But anime couldn't show what they were feeling during the fight. Were they scared, unsure, wanting to run away like she did? Hina thought maybe they were. Nobody, anime character or not, felt confident in a fight. The warriors of PreCure were frightened they wouldn't defeat the bad guy, and the monster-of-the-week wasn't sure it could defeat the heroes. Everyone was scared.
Hina realized it was what a person did with that fear that made her the heroine who defeated the black blob of evil, or turned them into the cowardly bystander who ran away. The girls of PreCure and other anime kept fighting; and the more they fought, the better warriors they became. They practiced fighting the way she practiced weightlifting. Hina may be the strongest person in school, but she hadn't started that way. When she had begun weightlifting in first grade, she had been clumsy and uncoordinated. But she kept training, and over time the amount of weight she could lift increased. She had gotten better through training.
"That's what I need, Voice," she said.
"Must I remind you, I'm a battle suit, not a mind reader?"
Hina smiled; not even Voice's snarkiness would get to her. "I was scared. I should have fought Fujiya and found out his plan. But I ran the first chance I had."
"Yes, you should have."
"I need practice. Not like martial arts practice or anything like that. I mean, fighting practice. If I'm going to face Fujiya again, and eventually Shimizu—"
"Most likely the two of them at the same time," Voice interjected.
Hina hated that thought but continued. "Then I need to get over the fear of fighting."
"No one gets over that fear, not even professionals like Ichihara and Fujiya."
"But they're brave enough not to run away from a fight when they need to. That's what I need."
"I'm not following your train of thought, Hina."
She realized her plan sounded crazy even before she said it aloud. "I need to be like a heroine. I need to help people, stop bad guys from hurting them. If I can stand up to human criminals, maybe I'll have more courage when I meet Fujiya again."
The battle suit was silent, long enough for her to ask, "Voice?"
"Your logic is flawed but somewhat reasonable. While I do not agree with this plan, I understand the basic need of it. I will try to assist you. How do you intended to find these criminals? May I point out that, compared to the rest of the world, Japan is a relatively safe country?"
That was true. It may not be as violent as America, but crime was crime. "Can you monitor the police radios or something like that? Like they do in movies? Let me know when a crime occurs, then I can try to stop it."
"Yes, I can. But I remind you, crime happens at any time. What if it occurs during class? Do you intend to run away from school every time an alarm goes off?"
Voice had a good point, she admitted. She remembered all the anime and movies she had seen as a kid; it seemed evil beings always managed to attack when the heroine was out of school, as if they were forbidden to do nasty activities from eight to four pm. She needed to help people, but she couldn't raise suspicions either. Her friends and her father couldn't know what she was up to.
"No," she said. "I'll handle whatever I can after school. If I start skipping classes or I'm always late, everyone will get suspicious. I'll have to…I don't know…pick my crimes, I guess. It's the only thing I can think of right now." She and Voice could work out a better plan later.
Her crime fighting career would have to wait a bit longer; her father was pulling into their apartment's designated spot. He got out, opened the door to the back seat, and took out several heavy grocery bags.
Hina went inside the apartment, and when she heard her father coming up the last flight of steps, she held the door open.
"I'm back," Mitsuo said. "When did you get home?"
"Welcome back. A few minutes ago," she said.
Mitsuo held up three bags. "Could you take these?" His arm shook with the strain of holding them up. Hina slipped her hand underneath her father's through the handle, and he pulled his hand free. She lifted them as if they were filled with air instead of heavy cans and boxes. Hina took her bags into the kitchen and put them on the table.
"Start putting things away," her father said as he came in and slung his bags on the table. They landed with a thud.
As she returned from putting food in the refrigerator he asked, "Are you okay?" Concern covered his face.
Her heartbeat sped up. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"
"You seem…like you had an exciting day. A little flushed."
She smiled. "I guess I did."
— — —
Shimizu accepted the Noigel scanner from Fujiya. As they stood in the foyer of Shimizu's luxurious apartment, Fujiya's face pulsated like a bubble about to burst; his mouth formed a thin line and blotches of red colored his cheeks. He had the worst poker face Shimizu had ever seen.
"Let me guess," Shimizu said. "Human girl: 2. You: 0."
Fujiya said nothing and brushed by Shimizu. He sat on the leather couch in the living room. "I got the data," he said.
Shimizu tapped the scanner against the palm of his hand. "Did the authorities intervene?"
"We were gone before they showed up."
Shimizu put the scanner in his pocket, went to his kitchen, and poured a glass of water from the refrigerated bottle. Back in the living room, he took a seat across from Fujiya. "If one learns from one's mistakes, you're the smartest person on the planet." He watched Fujiya fume on the couch.
Fujiya turned away and looked out the window. "She's only a human."
Shimizu shrugged, indicating the case was closed. He took the scanner out of his pocket. After a moment of looking at it, he asked, "What was it like?"
Fujiya gestured to the device. "The data is all there." Shimizu kept his gaze on him. Some of Fujiya's anger drained away. "Like the simulations said it would. A little more violent than I thought it would be." He paused. "I think it'll work."
Shimizu turned the scanner over in his hands. He wanted to examine its contents now but would wait until tonight. He had other business at AHI that couldn't be put off. He tried to control is impatience. He wondered if Fujiya was right. How close was it to the tests? he asked himself. Was it not close enough? Or was it, if possible, exactly like the tests had been? Isn't it possible everything was going like he had planned? They had encountered unexpected surprises. But maybe everything would work out in the end. If the data on the scanner confirmed his greatest hopes, they could move on to the next phase and launch the catoms on a planetary scale. Then he would have saved his race. They would declare him a hero. A savior. He'd be honored and rewarded more than any other Noigel in history.
But underneath all that, below the craving for fame and recognition, he truly wanted to save his people. No matter how many monuments they built or the number of artifacts they left behind, even if it was every piece of material they had, their race would fade into history if no one were alive. Without flesh and blood that continued carrying the Noigel race, being a Noigel, their civilization would end up as a note on a history data chip. Shimizu couldn't let that happen. He'd be their savior, come hell or high water.
Fujiya rose and walked to the balcony. He stood there, silent, gazing over Hiroshima. Fujiya looked like he had something on his mind, and he didn't often look like that.
After another few seconds of silence, Fujiya asked, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
This intrigued him, Fujiya didn't often speak so formally. "Go ahead."
He faced Shimizu, who watched him with curiosity. It sounded as if Fujiya was about to get sentimental, something he never associated with his subordinate. "I revealed my true form to her. I turned off the holo emitters and stood before her as a Noigel soldier."
Shimizu grimaced; he had ordered Fujiya to never switch off the holographic disguise under any circumstances. He kept quiet, wanting to hear what Fujiya had to say. He'd reprimand him later.
The big man stared at his hands and feet, as if seeing them again after being hidden in bandages following a terrible accident. "I saw myself for the first time in almost five years. My real self. My own skin, my own muscles. Me. I saw me."
The sentimentality and sadness in Fujiya's eyes shocked Shimizu. In all the years of working with him, Shimizu had never seen such an expression on his face. "I want this to succeed as much as you do," Fujiya said. "I want our race to live. More importantly, I want to live. I want to be me again."
The speech touched Shimizu although he didn't let it show. Fujiya never seriously complained about the mission. He was a soldier. Shimizu had chosen him because he was strong, big, and willing to follow orders. Now he brought up a good point, one Shimizu hadn't considered. He had been hiding so long that he hadn't realized he was hiding. At that moment he wanted to jump up, turn off his flash skin, and stand in his apartment as a true Noigel. He wanted to breathe air that wasn't filtered through an energy field. He wanted to use his own senses, not have them relayed through artificial biofeedback. But he couldn't. Under no circumstances could he discard his flash skin. He wouldn't die instantly if he switched it off, but the risk of exposing his cover was too high. The urge to come into his apartment every day, deactivate it, and be him would be too great. When he finished his mission, when Earth was New Noigel, there would be no need for flash skins—for himself, Fujiya, or anyone.
Fujiya still stood at the window. Shimizu came up beside him. "We'll succeed. And that battle suit out there, and these flash skins, won't mean a thing anymore. We'll be Noigel once again."
Of this, he had no doubt.
CHAPTER 21
There were no classes the next day at Hiroshima City Junior High School. The new school week had brought with it a different activity: Sports Day practice. After the morning homeroom, the students were ordered out onto the dusty playing field. Everyone wore their gym clothes and a headband of their team's color. On one long side of the oval field were freestanding tents, where the students would sit when they weren't participating in events. Each team had its own section to sit in (although no chairs, they sat on the ground) and each team consisted of a balanced number of first-, second-, and third-years.
On the opposite side of the field were a pair of freestanding tents. Several long tables were set up there: on one of them rested a microphone and portable music player. The student announcer would sit there, and his partner would be in charge of playing music between every event. Chairs were set up for the teachers and the band; most would be empty for practice week but would fill up on Sunday. Between the tents stood a small metal platform where the principal would give his opening and closing remarks.
Hina had participated in Sports Day once before. Most of the first day would be spent on drills for the marches, and formations for the opening and closing ceremonies. The students practiced how to enter onto the field, how to go to and from their tents before and after events, and other dull routines. The sun scorched her skin and the air blanketed her with humidity. The red headband she wore did little to dry her wet brow. Her white shirt clung to her back and the dust from the field covered her shoes and butt. Every couple of hours, the students took a ten minute break, resting under the shade of their respective team tents and drinking sports drinks or tea from their thermos bottles. Lunch came, with the same duties as every day, then more marches and formation practices. The homeroom teachers were responsible for keeping the students in line, but even the teachers without homerooms were required to stay outside with the students. Only the principal and the office workers could spend the day inside.
Practice ended, and Hina gathered her belongings at the tent. She hadn't stopped by Ami's house to retrieve her bag after leaving it with her at the coffee shop. Ami had been a friend enough to bring it with her this morning. Hina wanted to go home and relax. She had no homework, but she still had weightlifting training. She didn't have much time to spend with her dad.
Thinking of him, she took a detour. Her favorite donut store was not too far away. Her father ate the same old dreary breakfast every day. She decided to get him a few donuts for in the morning and, she had to admit, for herself as well.
The shop wasn't too crowded. The donut case and register were in front, and the majority of seating was to her left, with an enclosed smoking area at the very end. She wondered why anyone would want to spoil the sweetness of donuts with cigarettes. Could they even taste them with all that smoke in the air and in their mouths?
A few customers occupied the shop. A high school student took up a single table next to the entrance, papers and textbooks disarrayed across the table. In the main seating area were: a family with a toddler, two old women, and a salaryman sitting by himself.
"Welcome to our store," the two clerks shouted in unison. Hina ordered two donuts for herself and a cafe-au-lait, and three donuts to-go for her father.
Before the second clerk rang up Hina's order, she leaned over the counter and said, "Miss, I wouldn't sit near the gentleman." Hina followed her gaze to the salaryman. His gray hair was matted and limp, and his dull suit looked as if it had been slept in for two days. He stared at his cell phone's screen with bloodshot eyes. He gripped the phone so tight his knuckles were white. Hina was afraid he'd break the device. His patted his jacket pocket, as if assuring himself something still resided inside. He picked up a coffee cup with a shaky hand and took a loud sip.
"He's been here since seven this morning," the clerk continued.
"Can't you ask him to leave?"
The clerk shook her head. "As long as he continues to order, we can't kick him out. Plus, he hasn't really bothered anyone. He talks to himself. I have a bad feeling about him."
"He might be sick," the other clerk said.
Hina wondered for a moment; the man wasn't wearing a cough and cold mask. Then she understood the woman's meaning: sick in the mind. She noticed that the tables on either side of him were unoccupied.
"Thanks for the warning," Hina said.
She paid, took her tray to a table and sat. Across the aisle from her sat the salaryman, still staring at his cell phone. He creeped her out a little bit, she tried to ignore him. The family not far from her enjoyed themselves; the toddler threw as many bits and crumbs of his donut at his parents as he ate. They smiled and giggled and talked.
Hina bit into her donut, enjoying the sweetness of the chocolate and the crunchiness of the shredded coconut. It had been a while since she had been here; to her donuts were always a morning food. Maybe it was the slight sugar rush that jolted her, making her feel she could tackle the upcoming day. It felt strange eating one now, in the afternoon. When she was in elementary school, she sometimes stopped in with her parents on the weekends. But since entering junior high and having weightlifting training, her trips here had pretty much ended.
The register clerk ran around the end of the counter. She locked the door and flipped the business sign from 'Open' to 'Closed.' She lowered the blinds at the nearest window. Hina wondered what was going on. Were they closing early? She didn't think so, the staff would have made an announcement. And the clerk didn't walk in a professional manner, she almost ran and looked scared. But of what? Hina wondered.
