Singapore Island, Asean Foundation
Present Day
0600
The island state was one of the places in the world where when night falls, the city would remain as bright as ever. This was so even in the suburbia, where skyrocketing population density has forced citizens to live in apartments stacked half a skyscraper tall. Every floor of the city obsessed with security shone with orange light, and some of that reflected in to everyone's bedrooms.
It was just enough light to make out a small figure curled up in bed.
"Super giant parfait... Delicious..." She dreamed while nibbling on her pillow.
When the clock struck 6, the radio turned on.
"...High-Chancellor Engelmann announced yesterday that German scientists have made yet another breakthrough towards the understanding of IS Perception. This comes as the EU prepares itself for the biggest military review since its inception..."
"Uuu..." groaned the small girl. "Another five minutes..."
“The ISpers are individuals whose brain have structures that, by accident rather than design, can interact with IS cores and amplify the IS' capabilities...”
"...have to get up..."
Eyes still sealed shut, and hair frazzled beyond presentability, the girl felt about the side desk for the Off button. But her small stature had her falling far short of the target.
She squirmed, and missed. Visibly annoyed, she stretched. And stretched. And streeetched...
And tumbled bodily to the floor.
"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow..."
"Karon? Are you alright?" Her mother called from the kitchen.
"I'm fine!!" She called back, then moaned softly. “The parfait...”
“The ISper program, once lampooned as Project Stargate II, has experts working with the ever growing pool of Schwarzehase supersoldiers discovered with the abilities...”
In another part of the island, another person was listening to the same broadcast. She was far removed from the towering government flats. Instead, her home was nestled within acres of landscaped garden, fenced by tall rainforest trees and concertina-topped concrete. The odd gardener or two pruned the living ornaments that lined the cured grass as they did their morning patrol, while maids hurried about the compound preparing it for guests when they appear.
"They are progressing very swiftly," the pink haired girl said.
The man in the holographic window suspended over her breakfast sighed. "It is a terrifying prospect. The closer the EU are in unraveling the mystery of ISpers, the edgier the rest of the world is getting."
She smiled. "I'm sure we're close to making a few discoveries ourselves."
That did not help his mood.
"...I'm sorry, Gin. I never expected you, of all people, to be an ISper. Ever since the Schwarzehase discovered it, the world has been racing to find and create them..."
He transferred his weight from one arm to the next.
"It has been nothing but a curse for the both of us."
"No," the girl replied after dabbing her lips with a napkin. "Father is always working to keep our nation together. If my ability can help the Foundation, I'd step up gladly!"
"That is good, for the President of the Asean Foundation. But as a father..."
He shrugged.
"I feel that I am asking too much of my little girl."
"Mother does not agree," Gin said. "Me too. We’re both cheering for you, always."
President Tio nodded slowly and let a small smile loose.
"Thank you, Gin. You two always know what to say to me."
"Mm!" Gin said as she stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Now quit moping around and go act like a President should!!"
Tio could recognize that posture any time.
"Aye-aye, Ma'am."
When he terminated the line, Gin stepped away from the table and towards the ornate cupboard. As the serfs cleared soiled plates, Gin touched a small frame. The image within its sculptured square changed as she did, moving with each light swipe. She stopped when it came to that of her father, her mother, and her little self. It was taken when Tio first took office eight years ago. And in the years that passed, so much had changed. Tio’s hair had gone completely gray and Gin had grown up to his shoulders. Gin’s finger touched the image of her mother, and smiled.
“See you later, Mother.”
“...Dunois Corp have announced the completion of the most expensive IS Equalizer ever made. Hand-crafted by weapon artist Vulkan Weber over 5 years, the latest item from ‘Vulkan’s Forge’ is aptly the Mjolnir. Like its mythical namesake, the Mjolnir is a gigantic hammer. But collectors can not ever hope to own this artefact. It is apparrently not for sale...”
“Yawn~~~”
Karon grumbled as she came back from the shower. She was already in her school uniform. In some circles, the simple get-up was known as sailor uniform, but in Singapore it meant so much more. The only school with authentic seirafuku was the Singapore Japanese Girls School. It was the elite of the elite in all schools on the island, and had twinning programs and bridging courses to almost everything in Japan. It took every single bit of effort just to get through the front door and earn the right to wear the clothes of red, blue and white.
But it was worth it. For the only way to Singapore Representative Candidacy was via the National Cadet Corp (Stratos), a nation-wide organization that combined military-grade IS training with the rigors of a school club. And the best branch was in the SJGS.
Karon stopped and twirled in front of the mirror, mentally letting the night’s minimal sleep go away and replace with the excitement of the coming day. She attached a small collar pin of the NCCS crest to her lapels and smoothed out the fabric. Gou then finished off with a pair of red lucky ribbons to the strands of hair which framed her face. Karon twirled again. Satisfied with her handiwork, the small girl gave her messy room a once-over before turning her attention to a stand in the corner. Nestled beneath posters of cutie rock greats like Nakano Azusa and Hirasawa Yui was her prized friend: a sparklingly-polished Fender Mustang.
“Muttan!” Karon called out to the electric guitar and skipped over fallen plushies, almost falling over twice before she arrived. With a quick sweep, Karon slung it on, hoped on to her bed and scratched a high-power riff, without the power plugged in. She had to keep it that way, not everyone needed to wake as early as she did.
But that was enough; the pingy twangs of the wires were loud and overdriven in her head; her kitty-printed sheets was her live stage; the plushies below the silently raving crowd as Gou strummed out her energized solo. Her hands moved with a life of their own; the tune was her own creation; the climax built up as she willed it. Then, at the cresendo, she jumped off the stage with a loud strum.
All would have gone to plan had she not stepped on a squeaky toy on the way down.
"Waaah!!"
Her legs shot out from under her and Karon tumbled backward on to the bed. The shockwave sent more soft toys into the air. She cringed for impact, then, Daniel David bounced off her head.
The girl laughed sheepishly.
"Karon!"
There was her mother again.
"Coming!" Karon called as she wriggled out of Muttan's grasp, placed him back on his stand and hurried out.
The news continued to be read over the airwaves. This however was not routine for the figure kneeling on polished wood, deep in meditation. She much preferred the early quiet just before dawn, with nothing more for company than the wooden shinken by her right, and a light novel on her left. This was her in her natural state, surrounding herself in calm and cleansing her soul, readying for the coming chaos that was each day of her life. With her long black hair tied back, white keikogi and crimson hakama ironed meticulously flat, there was no way one would have guessed her public persona.
Which was why the radio droning in the background was out of place. Someone, most probably her mother, decided that everyone in the dojo should be updated to the latest in current affairs this particular morning. She knew full well the news this morning would only serve to rile her up, and knowing her, that was the entire point. Riselle decided that this was not disturbing her inner peace.
"In other news, Riz has called it quits! The rising idol of [Empatsu no Eiyuu] made the shock announcement yesterday during a meet-and-greet session organized in conjunction with her latest album. The [Goddess of Tsundere], as she is known to her fans, personally said that she would be going on hiatus to focus on her education.”
Riz’s eyebrow twitched at hearing her own voice as the sound bite played and took her over last evening’s events.
"This is an important announcement, so I felt it was only right that I say it in person...”
The lights were bright as ever, and her audience were only shadows thronged against the heavy barriers set up around the stage.
“I'm taking a break."
The uproar from the gathered mass was so loud even the microphone recording distorted at that point. It hit her with the force of a charging elephant, and with practiced courage Riz the Idol let it flow right through her. She bided her time, waiting for the fans to pick on the cue. For now, she let them grieve.
“I know this comes as a shock. Hontoni, gomen ne.”
It was a lie. Every single word was a lie. It was a script that her manager forced upon her after the older veteran tried and failed to make Riselle change her mind. She had enough of it all, of the cameras shoved in her face, of the slimy throng of adolescent men vying for her attention even when she knew nothing about them, of the constant fear of stalkers...
And most of all, that every single one of them loved [Goddess of Tsundere], not Riselle Koh Yukimura, the shy girl in glasses who just wanted to make real friends. How laughable...
She waited for the next wave of ‘sorrow’ die down, trying to ignore the odd cries of encouragement without showing it.
“But I’m not completely out of it.”
Her smile came on at the flick of a mental switch.
“Tomorrow, I’ll be competing with other candidates for the position of Singapore Representative, and I’ll be enrolling in the Infinite Stratos Academy for further training.”
She gave a wink.
“I’ll have a surprise for you when I return!”
As expected, the crowd cheered their approval loudly. Riselle could only find disgust in herself, to so easily have them eating out of her hand. That sentiment she suppressed as well.
The script decided that Riz would give thanks, bow then take her leave. But as she stood there, she could see grown men crying like little girls, and little girls waving their hand-made placards with frantic force. She could smell their disappointment. And then, from the furthest back row, a slow ripple gathered up and grew as it flooded forward. The crowd's cheers morphed from shapeless noise to synchronized chants: "Ri-zu! Ri-zu! Ri-zu!"
Riselle sucked a breath in and steeled herself as Riz fought to get out.
Like always, the fans won against years of bushido practice.
“S-So, be a good boy and w-wait for me, okay?!”
Riz stammered at the top of her voice, like the celluloid characters she has come to play over, and over, and over.
“I-If you go off w-worshipping another goddess, I’ll never forgive you, you got that?!”
The crowd erupted in rapturous applause as Riselle ended the memory there. Even though Riz left the stage with a lasting impression, Riselle shook her head, defeated by her own kindness.
"Even at the last moment, I was still acting..."
A trio of sharp raps on her bamboo door broke up her self-reflection.
“Young Mistress?”
“Come in,” Riz replied while waving her hand. As if it were magic, her wooden sword and her novel dissolved away. A soft click and beep told her that those equalizers had been stored successfully.
The retainers on the other side slid the door open, and the leader knelt by the frame, head bowed.
“Your armor is ready for fitting, Young Mistress.”
“Proceed.”
The servants widened the gap and retreated hurriedly. They returned soon enough, wheeling giant mechanical parts so heavy that sturdy power-assisted movers had to be used. These were floating on gravitic repulsion to avoid the heavy system from cracking the aged plank flooring. It was a necessary expense even if pinpoint barriers able to survive being driven into surrounded every plank and pillar in this dojo; barriers can be strained, and that was unnecessary an expense.
As the retainers moved to her back, Riselle gave another mental command.
[Skin change: Default.] Her IS declared.
The kendo gear being just a physical holographic reshaping of the IS frame vaporized in an instant, and was replaced by crimson armor plates over grey servo frames. It was distinctively an Uchigane, painted blood red according to her spec. But a trained eye could spy small alcoves and hard points where in the stock design would have been covered in plate or be simply absent. The Kohs owned the largest weapons manufacturing plants in the Foundation after all, and this was a Uchigane kept by the family for product demonstrations. With their daughter both a honed swordsgirl and a popular idol, possession of that unit naturally came to her. Riselle had to admit that the Uchigane was the only thing she still loved about being an idol...
Riselle meditated for a bit as she kept on kneeling, even after doing that for an hour. IS compensation for blood circulation and forcefielding had reduced seiza to a joke.
“How is it?” Said a new voice.
“Hahaue,” the younger girl greeted her mother. “This armor is no trouble.”
Mrs Koh did catch Riselle shooting a brief glance off to the side. It was directed at another armor, as crimson as the Uchigane, was displayed like a museum piece.
“Do you remember the purpose of today's exercise?”
“Yes.” Riselle replied with a strict tone. “I am to demonstrate the effectiveness of Oowashi Uchigane against the second-hand Tears the United Kingdom will be selling the Foundation in a best of 3 duel.”
The servants tapped a few more controls, and the package began to unfurl. Repulsion forces floated it off the trolley and eased it gently into place. Soft clunks of metal bolting in echoed in the hall.
“But you are not confident of winning?”
“No, Hahaue,” Riselle continued in that grey tone. “The Oowashi Uchikage pack will suffice...”
She closed her arms around herself, blushing a little.
“...but I prefer the warmth of Tenmoku.”
The older woman tossed her head back and laughed.
“But you do swimsuit editions so well!”
“Ha-Hahaue!!” Riselle retorted.
“Fitting complete, Young Mistress,” said one of the servants as they backed the hoverpad away.
The frazzled Riselle nodded mutely, then moved to stand up. Boosted by the deep leggings, Yukimura’s enlarged form blocked out the ceiling lamp and shrouded her mother in shadow. Riselle twisted torso left and right, flexed her claws, then shifted the Oowashi pack’s aerofoils with mental commands. Once everything checked out, Mrs Koh gave her approval.
“You’re a big girl, I can’t even pat your head now,” she commented. “So let me worry about the minor details and focus on your part.”
Riselle knelt back down to disengage from the suit when her mother wrapped her arms around the not-so-little one.
“Good luck. Got that?”
Riselle was surprised for a moment, but the frustration from before quickly faded. She returned the hug.
“Yes, Hahaue,” Riz smiled.
2011-12-21, 05:16
Artist
