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Some say I'm the Reverse
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cutting it up again.
Quote:
<--------------->
They met each other a few more times in that field. Ichika once wrote his name in the soil, oddly enough in Kanji. Orimura Ichika: Cut from a bone, a single summer. He then asked his playmate what her full name was.
Shiho only wrote her given name in plan hiragana, which meant nothing. Ichika did not pursue the matter further.
Those few times they played chase together, Ichika could never catch her. On more than one occassion he wondered how it was Shiho ran as fast as she did. Or hid as well as she did. At the age of five or six, Ichika kept trying but almost always lost to Shiho. Except the moments she let him win.
Shiho never answered when he asked. She could never explain how her feats were considered normal for her clan. Maybe I'm just stronger, she wanted to say. But Shiho was also afraid to lose the only friend she had.
The times she spent with him were short, in the grassy plains beneath the mountain. Away from the big house, away from the clan. She preferred it here, where no one forced her to apologize for things her father supposedly did.
"I bet you have a big family." Ichika asked.
Shiho was afraid for a second, but answered. "Yeah."
"In my family there's just me and Chifuyu-nee," Ichika didn't seem sad or jealous, just stating a fact. Then a worried look on his face, coupled with that sheepish laughter. And the silly gesture of scratching his head. "We don't stay in the same place for long. Maybe I'll go somewhere else."
"DON'T!"
Ichika was a little frightened at this response, but laughed it off. "Actually, Chifuyu-nee usually takes me to different places to live. She says its to protect me. Maybe she'll stay here this time."
"If you stay, I'll protect you."
"Hah?" Ichika had an odd look on his face, not laughing only because of the seriousness on the little girl's face. "But you're a girl."
"I will protect you." The little girl grabbed his hand tightly. "If I protect you, do you promise to stay?"
"It's a boy's job to protect a girl, you know." He then stopped, realizing how he sounded after mentioning his sister earlier. "I mean only giant robots and big monsters can protect a boy. Just like in the cartoons."
"Then I'll stop being a girl." Shiho spoke in a firm voice, with unnatural determination for a child her age. "Even if I have to become a monster, I'll protect you. Just stay."
"I promise I'll stay, Shiho-chan." Ichika smiled back, more than a little amused at Shiho's serious look. "If you promise to tell me about your family."
There was a hint of terror in the little girl's eyes for a second, but it left just as quickly. Shiho had already decided. Without her father there was no reason for her to stay with the clan. At worst, she would go with Ichika. Shiho actually liked the idea, being part of another family. To be with her first real friend. "If you come here tomorrow, I'll tell you."
"It's a promise." Ichika held up a small hand, pinky finger curled. "Pinky promise?"
Shiho curled her small, trusting finger around his.
<--------------->
It was one of the few public areas of the island, yet one that saw few people roaming it. A small park, with little greenery and lighting. Quiet, without the school's usual sounds of girl talk and giggling. The support staff of IS Academy occasionally took their lunch breaks here, cloistered away from work and the students nearby. It was not monitored as heavily as the rest of the island, something that Orimura Chifuyu made a mental note to change in the next few days.
Chifuyu felt uncomfortable with the calm. Something was always going wrong in and around the Academy. If everything appeared to be going smoothly, then something was going VERY wrong and Chifuyu didn't know about it just yet. A frown as she realized that it would very likely involve her younger brother.
A glance at her watch. Quarter past three in the afternoon. The exact time she had been advised in the message earlier. At this specific location.
"Orimura Chifuyu."
She turned to the voice. A girl stepped out of a tree's shade and into the sun. Baseball cap shading her eyes, but as young as most of the first-years at IS Academy. The girl's face was new to her, not one of the faces she'd seen in the school or among the staff. Suspicion crossed Orimura's face as she wondered how the girl got through security.
"You finally show yourself," Chifuyu challenged in her low and cautious monotone. New, yet strangely familar. Almost in reflex, she put one arm to her waist. A casual pose to most, but it hid her intentions well. It hid her footing and stance from the person she was speaking to.
"You're prompt." The mystery girl stopped a short distance from Orimura. Had Chifuyu brought a sword, the girl would be just out of her reach. Cautious, as if debating whether to wait or to strike. "I didn't think you would take time out of your busy schedule to see me."
Orimura was not amused. "Your name, little girl?"
The girl chuckled, as if privy to an inside joke. "<Ren>. Just call me that."
"So, what did you want to talk about? Or are you just here to waste my time?"
"If you thought this was a waste of time, you wouldn't be speaking to me. White is black. And black is white." <Ren> took a few more cautious steps forward, now within the edge of Chifuyu's range of movement. And aimed a pointed response. "So are you the Black Knight or the White Knight?"
Faster than a snake could strike, Chifuyu closed the distance as she leapt forward and grabbed the girl's right arm. <Ren> did not resist as the older woman had a look at the injury. Also exposed was the red tattoo. There was a split-second flinch from Orimura when she recognized the mark, but she said nothing.
The memory of a flash of blades came to Orimura's mind.
Calmly, Chifuyu let go of <Ren>'s arm. The red tattoo and its meaning was familiar to her, and she looked at the girl with a renewed sense of wariness and distrust. "You've been watching my brother, haven't you? For how long?"
"Since the second Mondo Grosso."
The answer seemed to take Orimura by surprise. She hid it well otherwise, keeping an impassive mask of nonchalance on her face.
"It was right after your brother was kidnapped." <Ren> confirmed. "You were the top-ranked IS pilot at the time, but you pulled out of the competition with your IS to rescue your brother." The girl then gave Orimura an aside glance, treading carefully. "That made a lot of people in the Japanese Government nervous."
"Then let them be nervous." Chifuyu's demeanor did not shift. "Politics don't interest me."
"There was a genuine fear that someone would use your brother to blackmail you into going against them. Some in the Government still think it was the Germans who kidnapped Ichika in the first place." Like the Koanchosa-cho, <Ren> did not add. "To get you to train their IS cadre, of course."
Chifuyu looked at <Ren> doubtfully. "You can't be from the Ministry of Justice." Far too young, she did not add. Orimura kept a cold, professional distance and air to her speech. "Naicho? Or the Johohonbu? Most likely the latter." Chifuyu surmised. "You don't act like one of those desk drones at the Naichou."
<Ren> made no response to the probing questions.
"I thought Tatenashi Sarashiki was in charge of protecting that idiot brother of mine?" There was the slightest of reactions, and Chifuyu noted the split-second scowl on <Ren>'s face at the mention of Sarashiki's name. "Ah. So it's an inter-service rivalry."
"Having an IS shouldn't be the sole reason to choose who protects whom." <Ren> tried, but could not keep the air of petulance out of her voice.
"Don't be an arrogant kid." Orimura felt like slapping the girl, but knew <Ren> would merely dodge it. "An IS changes everything. Even a relatively unskilled IS user can do more damage than a small army."
"There are problems that can't be solved with an IS." If <Ren> was affected by Chifuyu's rebuke, it did not register. "Intelligence gathering. Covert operations. Infiltrating enemy organizations."
"You sound like a man whining about the IS taking away his job."
<Ren> stopped, balling up her right fist. The pain stopped her train of thought, made her rethink her response. Yet still: "My way of thinking is not wrong."
Chifuyu's eyes narrowed. The girl seemed more familiar the more she spoke to her. "I've met you before, haven't I?"
"Have you?"
"If you were one of my students, I'd throw the book at you for that response." Chifuyu regarded the younger woman with her own tight-lipped smile. "Instead of a duel with swords, a knife in the back, is that what you're saying?" She'd meant it as a joke, and had not expected the response. "A knife can never be a sword. The IS is a sword. A long sword, meant to clash with other long swords."
"A good sword is passed down and cared for. A knife, you just use it and throw it away. You can always get another knife." <Ren> tried to shrug in her normal arrogant way, but the pain stopped her. All she could muster was a grimace. "But isn't that alright?"
"So." Chifuyu was ready now, arms crossed and guarded. Ready to make a deal and cautious. "What is it you really want to talk about?"
"I have information you might be able to use."
<--------------->
He did not see her that day.
Shiho escaped from her family early that day, hoping to see the boy when he came. Her heart beat fast. Either he would stay here in the nearby town, or she would run away and join them. Part of another, better family. One that didn't need to remind Shiho of her lack of value.
She arrived at the spot, excitedly standing in wait. The sun turned the sky blue and she could feel her heart beat fast, even though she had stopped running. She waited.
The sun took its time as it crossed the blue above. Shiho began to tire, and sat down in the same spot. And waited.
And waited.
And waited. Watching the changing colors of the sky.
Blue turned to purple. Purple turned to red. Red into black.
Still she waited. Night fell. And there was nothing at all. No laughter, not even an apology.
"Liar." The child sobbed without crying. "Ichika you liar."
<--------------->
"Ichika you liar," <Ren> whispered softly under her breath. Walking slowly, she tarried her time. Halfheartedly wanting to loiter in the Academy's grounds for a bit longer.
The information she had passed to Chifuyu was scant, and she had no idea if it meant anything to the woman. Orimura kept a cold face throughout. All she did was nod and advise she would take it into consideration. For all <Ren> knew, the teachers of IS Academy already had good information on what was to happen.
The Americans will probably strike soon. Whispers that the Johohonbu had heard, but never confirmed. <Ren> was fairly certain they were more than whispers. Someone is feeding information to Phantom Task and other groups.
She stopped in her tracks, catching a familiar face not far away.
<Ren> was silent, staring now at the figure in a male IS Academy uniform seated in a parkside bench. Too far, and facing away. There was a concerned look on his face, as if he was waiting intently for someone.
<Ren> bit her lip, and took a quiet step forward.
It was then that she saw his face brighten up. <Ren> froze, stepping to one side to remain unseen. A small troupe of girls ran up to the boy, some were cheerful while the others were quarrelsome. All of them revolved around him, as if he were the sun and they the planets of his universe. At all of this, he laughed and scratched the back of his head.
Just as <Ren> remembered him, ten years ago.
God, that moron looks so happy. <Ren> herself could not help but genuinely smile for a split-second. That bunch of idiots will protect him for me, right?
"Shiho. Arashikage Shiho." <Ren> whispered to herself, knowing full well the boy and his troupe could not hear her. "That's my name, Ichika. I've kept my promise."
I became a monster but I still couldn't protect you.
Slowly, silently she left the unknowing group. Feet quiet as she quickened her pace. Away from IS Academy. Heartbeats hurting every step of the way. She made it to the sky-tram without incident, without hesitation.
"If you have been watching him that long, I'm surprised you haven't fallen for him yet."
<Ren> looked to the familiar voice, seeing Haruko seated in the sky-tram. An empty bento box of the convenience store variety was at her feet, and the half-full grocery bag beside it completed the picture. The analyst's peeved expression almost made <Ren> laugh.
"How do you know I haven't?"
I don't know whether you're joking or if you were dead serious when you said that. Kokuto grimaced even further as she massaged her legs. "Do you know how long I've been sitting alone inside this stupid thing?"
<Ren> took another look at the grocery bag. "Long enough to finish four cans of coffee."
"Shut up!" The grimace grew wider. Then, the analyst looked <Ren> in the eye. "I could see you, you know. Watching over Orimura and his gang."
Like a snake avoiding a man's eye, <Ren> looked away. "Then I must be getting sloppy."
"Were you? Seriously, I mean. Were you serious about that? About falling for Orimura?"
"Completely serious." <Ren> put her hands in her jacket pockets, then sat in the opposite seat.
Kokuto remained silent.
"I didn't have his happy childhood, nor the friendships he had. We're not compatible." <Ren> continued without any emotion. Haruko found it hard to read the look in her eyes. As always like a snake, unreadable. "I'm not like Orimura Ichika. My life is a whole different set of experiences and lessons."
Haruko leaned back in her seat. It was another fifteen minutes before they would arrive at the mainland. A lifetime before their much longer trip northward. "Weren't you tempted to just go to him and confess?"
<Ren> did not answer at first. There was a pang of pain in her heart that moment, but it passed quickly. With an arrogant shrug, hiding her snake eyes behind her cap brim, she snorted in mock disgust.
"Not my style."
"You REALLY sure this is alright?"
"Yeah." <Ren> pulled the cap brim down further, trying not to show her face to Haruko. "To him, I don't exist. He mustn't know I exist."
The sky-tram picked up speed, leaving the call of the warm sun behind.
"It's better this way."
<--------------->
There were heavy footsteps as Ichika slowly dragged his half-dead body to his dorm room. He sighed, possibly for the hundredth time that day. From keeping Laura, Rin and Cecilia from opening fire on one another to avoiding Houki's ire, the remains of his energy were drained from the day's practice session. In front of the room door, he wondered whether or not the girls were getting more out of the practice session than he was. They certainly spent more time duelling each other than training him anything new. If they were more like Charl, he began thinking. Then stopped as he recalled how dangerous a quietly angry Charlotte could also be. Nevermind. Just let me be alone for tonight.
At that moment, the door opened right in front of him.
"Ja-jaan! A wild Tatenashi onee-san appears~!"
"Oh. It's you." Ichika just look back dumbly at Tatenashi Sarashiki's peppy smile. At least she's fully clothed this time.
"Just 'oh, it's you'? That's so cruel, Ichika-kun!" Tatenashi replied in her charmingly joking manner. The trademark folding fan popped open, the words 'tease' written on them. "After all we've been through, is that the way you greet me?"
"I don't have energy left." Orimura shambled past Sarashiki, and just fell facefirst into the bed. There were only two possibilities in his mind: Either Tatenashi was going to tease him again, or she was going to put him through one more practice session. The fact was that he was tired. Too tired to even sleep, as he was still conscious of Tatenashi sitting beside him. The fan gently tapped Ichika's forehead, far more gently than he had been expecting.
Her scent. The familiar fragrance of her closeness soothed him despite Ichika's resistance.
"Ichika-kun?" Tatenashi's voice was oddly subdued this time. "Have you had any other childhood friends?"
A tired but still awake Orimura replied "...you're not going to suddenly make up some crazy story about how you're my third childhood friend, are you?"
"Now, why would I do that?" the fan popped open again to hide her fox-like smile, 'Honesty' written on it. Just as quickly it snapped closed. "Do you remember all of your childhood friends?"
"I'm too tired to make a list."
A giggle. "Then, who's the one you first remember?
"Houki." Ichika smiles despite himself, remembering Houki as a child. Sometimes he found it odd that he could not remember anything at all before his sister brought them to live with the Shinonono family, just as he turned five years old. But it had never really bothered him. Even if Rin and his other old friends Dan and Ran complained about how skewed his memories seemed to be on events.
"Would your childhood friends do everything they could to protect you?"
"I would protect them." Orimura said that absently, remembering the Silverio Gospel incident all too well. And of Laura, Cecilia, and Charlotte. "It doesn't matter how long I know them, I would protect them."
"But would your childhood friends do the same thing for you?"
"Houki would do the same for me. Rin, too. And probably even Dan and Ran--you don't know them." He was getting tired. "They're the only ones, I think."
The room went silent. Ichika felt as if Sarashiki were waiting for him to call out another name. She waited a minute longer before standing up.
"Tatenashi-san?"
"Good night, Ichika-kun." She waved goodbye with a smile on her face as she switched off the lights. "You'll be really busy in the future."
The remark puzzled his fatigue-addled brain. Ichika wondered why Sarashiki's cheerful voice sounded different, almost forced. But he quickly lost consciousness to sleep.
<--------------->
It was dead quiet at twilight when Kokuto halted her car.
The dark blue of the sky was interrupted only by the silent falling of snow. Little patches of white that stuck to the car window only seconds before melting away. Haruko kept the engine and heater running as the vehicle sat on Taisetsu National Highway, on the southern bend where it turned away from the frigid Ishikari River. Daisetsuzan National Park had at its core a volcanic mountain range popular with hikers in summer and skiers in winter. It was not secluded, but in the cold white brush of winter few tourists emerged at night. In the long nights of dark and cold it was ideal for the secretive few to set up camp. The car would travel on through to Sounkyo Gorge and Kitakami, where Kokuto would report back to HQ. But for <Ren> this was the end of the road.
No backpack, not even a quiver for the arrows. Haruko sat silently, observing <Ren> do a final check on her gear. During the long days of travel, <Ren> had managed to stich together the remanants of her old grayed clothing with the insulated white ski jacket and pants Haruko had acquired. <Ren> only wore thin gloves, arguing she needed to keep her hands free. The many shuriken and knives were unseen, hidden in pockets and the belt pouches on <Ren>'s body. Only the two short swords and bow were obvious to Kokuto's view. The arrows she carried were eight, all in her hands.
The trip from the warm summer beaches to the cold mountains was spent mostly in silence, save for the occassional question on the mission. Haruko felt uncomfortable, as <Ren> did not bother to ask why this operation had to be carried out, nor to what purpose. Kokuto surmised that by now, she no longer cared. But the silence was something Haruko did not relish. Oddly, she missed the frequent sharp barbs and sarcasm they used to share.
"Have you ever heard the story of the White Snake?"
<Ren> paused in her task of fitting a white balaclava to her face, giving Haruko a blank look.
"It's an old chinese tale. I just want to talk and keep the air in here warm."
<Ren> pulled off the white mask. "Go ahead."
That was anticlimactic. Haruko was expecting at least a single insult, but decided not to push it. "The story goes that a boy named Xu Xian saved a young white snake from death. The white snake then feels indebted to the boy, and spends the next years of her life learning to become human." Kokuto paused at <Ren>'s impatient glare. "Long story short, a lot of weird light novel hijinks happen, among which she becomes friends with a green snake and gets chased down by a buddhist monk trying to exorcise her. She eventually meets Xu Xian as a young man later on and marries him. Thing is, by this time the monk finally tracks them both down and imprisons the snake. The monk then said their relationship was forbidden by the laws of nature and should never have happened. The end."
"That's a pretty bad ending to a fairy tale."
"People tell fairy tales because they can't tell the truth," Haruko was looking straight ahead. The darkness was deepening, and the snow began to build up. "It doesn't matter if your reasons are good and just. You can't question what's established without being labelled an enemy."
"So I'm as bad as Phantom Task, now?" <Ren> replied. Silence was the response.
The passenger door opened, and cold air cut into the car. <Ren> pulled the white balaclava fit snugly over her mouth and nose, a minor comfort against the frost and snow. The hood of the ski jacket went over that, and only then did Kokuto realize she was looking at <Ren> in her natural state.
Ninja. A white snake in the snow.
"Kokuto." <Ren> held the bow in her right hand, the clutch of arrows in her left. The darkness made it hard to see her eyes through the white mask. "I'm not the tragic heroine in this story."
"I guess not." Haruko chuckled but found herself unable to follow. Always staying behind, where I can't make a difference. Almost an afterthought: "I'll keep you in touch with Ichika's progress."
The wind was beginning to pick up.
"Stop pitying me."
"Pity you? It's the guys you're hunting down I really pity." Haruko spoke with new strength in her voice. Then a smile. "Promise me you'll get back here. It's our job to watch over Orimura Ichika, remember? The job's not done yet."
<Ren> did not turn around.
"I can't make that promise."
The white figure disappeared into the white snow.
<--------------->
Ice tinkled in the glass, cooling the liquid amber fire as Orimura Chifuyu toyed with it.
Brandy. V.S.O.P. Strong. Chifuyu felt she needed a stiffer drink than usual today, and she was well into her fourth. Conversations that hold no meaning for one party, but means everything to the other. Ice sat inside the pouring liquid fire. She began to sip at it, but ended up downing the whole glass. Orimura set it down on the bar table with a clattter, and the bartender was only too happy to refill her drink once more.
"Yamada." Chifuyu softly questioned her companion. "What do you know about Ninja?"
"Ninja? Why the sudden topic?" The bob of green hair that was Yamada Maya comically bent her head to one side. After a few seconds, she decided that Orimura was serious, and responded. "Well, all I know about Ninja are from action movies and stories. It's not like they exist in real life, do they?"
"They once did. Everyone knows a ninja tale. But nobody has the true story." Tinkling. The ice in the near-empty glass played a song as Chifuyu rattled it. "There are many names, alternate readings and meanings. Shinobi. Monomi. Nokizaru. Iga-mono. Read by the chinese it's pronounced <Ren>-<Zhi>. Many names, never the same meaning. Or maybe all of the meanings are deliberately false."
"Just like the Ninja themselves?"
"The word itself means nothing." Chifuyu coldly responded, downing her drink once again. "There are many ways to read the word <Ninja> or <Shinobi>: 'One who practises the art of invisibility', or 'one who steals away at night'. But there is another way of reading the words." Chifuyu motioned to the bartender, who poured her another shot of brandy. "It can also mean 'One Who Endures'." Outwardly she kept her composed demeanor, but she was fully drunk and knew it all too well. To do the work of a monster, you must first become a monster. The senior Orimura almost had a tone of pity with her next words. "One who accepts hardship without reward, or suffers silently being hated by those they protect.
"That's the reason why all ninja lie. Why they encourage stories of their being ruthless, monstrous and inhuman." A clatter as she emptied the next drink. Again, the glass was filled without question. "It's the only way they can protect their hearts from breaking."
Maya, who had absolutely no idea what Chifuyu was talking about, was content to just nod and smile.
I don't want my brother anywhere near her. Silently, she downed her drink in one gulp, the cold fire of alcohol comforting in her gut. She's me. Chifuyu could not smile at the realization. She's the younger me, the me that I could have become. If I had more arrogance than skill. If I had made more mistakes in life.
The me that never had Ichika. Staring into the glass, she could see only her own eyes looking back at her. Someone who can no longer be saved.
<--------------->
Progress was slow through the snow-whipped night.
In the snow, her grey and white suit was invisible. The wind would howl, then suddenly stop. Along with it the snow crystals would either dance lightly or cut at what little was exposed of her face. The cold weather in the valley areas would drop to -4.1 degrees centigrade, but in the mountains it was -10 degrees. That would drop even further the longer at night she stayed. The snow began to curdle in the gust.
Whiteout. When snow and wind struck so strong, that there was no sky and no soil. The sounds of wind made it difficult to hear.
The white was more perfect than darkness.
She stopped in the emptiness. Nothing could be done, as she could not risk losing her way in the near-blizzard. All she could do was stay her ground, wait out the gusts. Alone in the frost of the mountain, <Ren> sat crosslegged in the snow. She set the bow and arrows pinned betwwen legs and right ankle, not wanting to risk their loss. Slowly, her limbs began to numb, but not from the cold.
Focus. Concentration on the task.
Her hands interlocked, and she made gestures known only to herself. The nine kuji-in, hand symbols used to focus one's thoughts in meditation. The symbols both had meaning and had none. A tool, like any blade in <Ren>'s arsenal. Originally a buddhist form of prayer, people long thought these were forms of dark and haunted ninja magic. The Arashikage clan did not bother to correct that misconception.
Time passed so quickly for others, but to her the seconds drew out like churning ages. Nerves slowed, drawing out the small agonies she still felt. Winter moved backward as her mind slowly lost track of pain. The cold. The heat of her breath under her mask.
Focus.
The mind-set of the Arashikage. The cold was forgotten now. The stabbing pain in her right arm and leg continued, but the meaning of that pain faded from view as she picked up her weapons and stood against the wind. Carefully she tested the bow, ensuring the ice and frost had not frozen the cams and wheels on it.
Memory.
Long before she was taught to throw knives, her father taught her this skill. It honed her ability to aim and strike targets. Knives, shuriken and other improvised thrown objects became more practical and common in her line of work, but she began learning with the bow and arrow.
The art of the longbow was a samurai's skill, as much as the long sword was a samurai's weapon. Like the art of the sword, the art of the bow was passed down with meticulously prescribed technique, cerewmony and ritual. For show, not for practical use. <Ren> had no use for ceremony. The bow existed to hit targets at range. A shorter bow, lacking in the range and size of the traditional longbow of old, was more useful to her line of work. Easily carried. Lightweight and durable. And the compound bow she used allowed for more power and range than a traditional short bow of the same size.
She pulled the drawstring, a mild pressure on her right arm. The pain was not gone. It was still there, but merely as a reminder. It did not hinder her, and her thoughts were free of it. The task at hand was all she could think of.
A sound.
Three of the eight arrows were now in her left hand, and she notched one, pointed forward and guiding her way. The other two were hooked between her two small fingers, ready for fast follow-up shots. She wasn't hitting distant targets, but people just a few meters outside her arm's reach.
The Ear that Sees. Her father taught her that skill as well. In a place where vision is unreliable, <Ren> listened intently. Filtering out the noises of wind and snow. She could not shoot on sight, but she could hear them. The steps in the snow, the breaths. The occassional sneeze or muttered curse. Cold wind, and the mildly irritating scent of sulfur. <Ren> remembered that the peaks at Daisetsuzan were all volcanoes, of varying levels of activity. This was one of the many reasons Hokkaido was still popular in the chill of winter; natural hot springs. It was that same reason her targets were stationed here as well.
Hot and cold hell, in the same place.
The whiteout continued, masking her approach to the site. She stopped when the edge of her eye caught movement.
There was a shadow in the white mass.
<Ren> let her instincts, sound and scent guide her, loosing the main arrow. It flew, silent save for the quivering of the drawstring in the cold wind.
The slim shaft penetrated the soft area behind a man's ear. The shadow jerked a second, then slid helplessly to the ground. Silent, small steps in the snow followed as <Ren> checked the body. Tall. Pistol in belt. Mobile phone. A glance at the man's hand. Just out taking a smoke. Probably to avoid the sulfur smell. She was satisfied with her handiwork as the dead man glared back at her accusingly. She pulled the arrow out of the man's skull, wiping off the blood and gore with the snow.
Without another word, <Ren> moved away. She could not trust the white snow and howling wind to last long enough for this mission. A hidden part of her mind excitedly whispered how much easier this was when allowed to kill. Another part felt shame, dreading to think what Ichika would have said or felt about killing. But the mind that was in control only saw these ideas in periphery. Unimportant to the task at hand.
Buildings. No, structures. In the white, there were only the ghostly frames of buildings. Two, maybe three structures that resembled apartments in the cold and grey night. Abandoned housing and offices among the volcanic mountains above the clouds, a commune for a sulfur mine that never got off the ground. The imaginative part of <Ren>'s mind thought of the people here, making their home in a cemetery. The cynical part felt it appropriate for the work she was about to do.
We drove on featureless roads up and down oddly rolling hills for nearly an hour before we finally sighted the battleship-like apartments through the mist. At each crest of a hill we’d stop and pile out of the car, wander off the verge and stare out into the white.
Voices. <Ren> froze but kept the bow steady, unsure of how many were coming her way.
"...swear if he's frozen to death while smoking, I'm going to laugh!" The voice rather than the man cut through the white wind.
"If we find him. It's all goddamn snow. Up, down, left right. Everywhere." A hoarse, angry voice yelled out. A pair of blurred figures moved through the snow. "A whole Self-Defense Force tank batallion could be ten feet in front us and we wouldn't even know they were there."
The hissing of a radio. The voice was more subdued and difficult to hear.
<Ren> held the bowstring tightly, wondering if she had been found. A curse and an afterthought, as she wondered if she should have buried the first body. Haruko would have told me to leave him alone and sneak past.
"I wish they'd hurry up and finish up here. My fingers are freezing off!"
Finally they emerged from the whiteout, two large figures in thick winter clothing. The lead one had a flashlight and handgun out, the snow folding like mist around them. The second was too far away for <Ren> to see. The first man strode past, unaware.
Then the figure of the second man stopped and turned curiously in her direction.
No hesitation.
The first arrow flew, and a gurgled surprise came from the second man's throat. The second was just as rapid, and an electrical pop sounded at the death of the radio. The third shot was fired just in time to puncture the first man's face as he spun around.
<Ren> did not bother to check the bodies or retrieve her arrows, turning toward the ruined buildings.
Would he hate me? There was no pause in her stride as she pulled another three arrows from her right hand. The thoughts in her head were dispassionate, far removed from what she was actually doing. That idiot would hate me. I'm sure of it.
The building she entered was empty, wind howling through the open and shattered windows. But here, the effect of the snow was at least limited. Walking through the empty corridors <Ren>'s vision improved. She made no noise creeping through the building's rotted-through concrete steps and halls, covered in a thin layer snow. Only a casual glance told her that there had been people here. A door ajar, showing the abandoned bed and shelves within. Communal baths with their yellowed white tiles falling into the pure white of the snow. The acoustics of the ruins made it sound like there were more men, further away than she knew they were.
The scent of sulfur grew stronger. <Ren> took a look up at the sign at the corner.
Gymnasium. The community was meant to stand on its own, while mining sulphur and other materials. Facilities, housing and amenities all on the same grounds. The smell of sulfur was growing stronger, almost beckoning <Ren> forward. It grew both brighter and warmer as she approached, and her pace slowed. There were low, subdued voices as if discussions were ongoing. <Ren> stopped at the corner of a doorway. The voices were more distinct, but the echoes in the building made it harder for her to determine numbers. It was also too risky to peer around the corner or use one of her more polished blades as a mirrror.
She set the bow down and took out her tanto. There were cracks in the rotted wooden door frame, which she slowly and quietly widened using the knife's chisel edge. It did not take long for her to make a peephole.
Eight men. Four with submachineguns. Five arrows. She sighted through the peephole. There were cracks in the ground, which was likely the source of heat. And some mechanical equipment she did not recognize. <Ren> doubted she could hit more than three before the rest would pepper her with gunfire. They were preoccupied with their project, with terms <Ren> could not understand, nor did she care about. I only need to hit the target.
She spun around the corner and took aim. Finish it in one shot.
---CRACK.
The bow exploded in <Ren>'s hands as the gunfire shattered the top camwheel. The bowstring whipped around, nearly striking her eye. She dropped the now-useless weapon and ducked behind the wall, gritting her teeth as her ears were assaulted by the echoes of automatic fire. Just as suddenly, the firing stopped.
"I'm a little disappointed that the government only sent one assassin!" A man's voice boasted from within.
So we have a talker. <Ren>'s left hand pulled out a pair of throwing darts, even as she began regretting the injury in her right arm. If she had full ability for both arms, she would just throw her blades at the enemy. There were enough blades for it, but one arm alone couldn't hurl the weapons fast enough or far enough. At best she could wield her shorter sword, use her right like a shield. But there was no way she could use it offensively.
Quickly, she ran out of the hallway. The gunmen would follow.
Leaping through the empty windows, back into the snow. Sudden chill, from the warmer indoors back into the storm. <Ren> barely heard gunfire following her but did not throw the knives. Firing blind, or herding me? <Ren>'s right arm gripped the handle of her Wakizashi, but did not draw the weapon out.
"Do they pay you idiots to think at all?"
<Ren> could hear the shouting over the wind and snow but could not pinpoint its exact location. She scuttled like a crab along the ground, trying to find a target. Her eyes hadn't readjusted from the light indoors, and it was difficult to hear as the wind seemed even stronger than earlier.
"Do you even know who you're targeting? I'm Kanemaru Oura! KANEMARU OURA!!"
I know damn well who you are. <Ren>'s grip tightened on the two throwing knives.
Former Representative for Kanagawa, Kanemaru Oura. A man who was known to be loud and pro-military but otherwise pedestrian in his political career. On retirement, he became a consultant for the US-based Constellis Holdings Private Security firm. Senior Japanese bureaucrats retiring to companies after their stint in government was nothing new; it was practically institutionalized in Japan. Not long afterward, the Johohonbu suspected him of security leaks and the more reluctant Department of Justice agreed. The disgraced ex-politician was later acquitted but asked to leave quietly.
Oura refused to go quietly.
He also promised to get back at the government for this. Politicians making threats were nothing new, but Oura was serious. The last information gleaned by the Johohonbu was that he was organizing some sort of operation in Hokkaido.
Which is where I come in. The reasons for this mission were unimportant. <Ren> had to focus on the task, without distraction. She then heard a soft sound like a rock being dropped, as something was tossed in the snow next to her. A grey-green cylinder with yellow band---
Grenade.
Goddamnit. <Ren> suddenly wondered about karma. Instantly she bolted, before the object exploded. The blast hit her hard, throwing her yards away but without shrapnel. Concussion Grenade. Her ears were ringing painfully. The balaclava and hood did nothing to soften the explosive pressure. More important, she could not hear her enemy and was forced to rely on her sight. Reflexively she threw the knives where the grenade thrower had been, then ran. There was gunfire, but it sounded murky through her deafened ears. She started to feel more pain, realizing she'd landed on her still-healing ribs. Her legs started to ache as she finally turned around another corner of the building. Quickly, she drew out more weapons with her left hand. Shuriken this time. The star-pointed blades would not penetrate as deeply as a proper throwing knife but had more range due to its spin.
"...but the rest of the world goes on." Kanemaru was still talking, yelling into the snow. <Ren>'s hearing was improving as the clipped voices of other people could now be heard. Warning the man to stay down. "But I won't make you forget! Japan needs a proper military force! Japan needs ME!"
He didn't stop ranting, through all of that? <Ren> found herself relying more on her sight despite the white darkness. Whether her target was serious about his promise did not matter. An adrenaline thrill raced through her veins, realizing she just might enjoy killing her target. Small name, big ego. Her smile became cold and wicked.
Why does he have to die?
<Ren> paused, mind suddenly blank. Espionage and assassination were her skills. Unloved by her clan but with too much training invested, she was made into the Johohonbu's knife. From childhood to her pre-teen years, a weapon used against threats to the Japanese Government. Following orders but never once questioning them. She never thought of questioning her orders before.
You never had a problem with it before.
Before, she hadn't been guarding Ichika.
That's not your job anymore. Nervously, she tightened her right fist. Still some pain. Feeling it now. The Arashikage mind-set's focus, her ability to ignore pain and function normally was broken. It's not like you can do anything for that idiot any longer.
Almost too late, she heard a foot crunch behind her. Spinning around, she flung the star-shaped blades into the man's eyes. He screamed, and <Ren> knocked him aside. He was unarmed, not that it mattered to her. Keep focused. She cursed herself for being sloppy. Don't think, act.
Gunfire followed the screaming. The guards, possibly mercenaries Kanemaru had hired. Controlled bursts, trying to draw a bead on her. <Ren> pulled out more shuriken, and started throwing them at and into the building. As expected, the noises of metal on broken concrete or wood were followed by the expected bursts of submachinegun fire. <Ren>'s ears had recovered enough to pinpoint the source of gunfire, as she followed up by hurling straight-bladed throwing knives at the gunmen.
Shuriken to draw their fire, straight knives to the actual target. <Ren> figured she could do this a few more times before they got wise to it, even though the sudden yelps told her that the blades hit home. Too far to be fatal, but definite hits.
Be glad they don't have infrared goggles. Or the multi-phase vision available on some types of IS. Oddly, <Ren> wondered whether Ichika's Byakushiki had the same capability. Stop living in the past or you'll die in the present.
The gunfire stopped.
They're quick to catch on. <Ren> took out more of her throwing blades, noticing her lightness of weight. She was running out of blades and shuriken too quickly. Footsteps following but she could not tell how close. Further she ran intot he abandoned town. Wooden shacks rotting in the snow, construction workers' huts. The place had never been finished before it had closed. Cracked windows spattered with mud and frost glinted slightly back at her, as if the snow itself was giving off an unearthly, glowing light.
Daylight's coming. <Ren> realized it was not an illusion. It was growing lighter, and still the snowstorm dulled her vision.
It's a boy's job to protect a girl, you know.
All of a sudden, she thought she heard Ichika's voice in her mind. And then, her father's voice.
Pay attention to your surroundings.
The sound of footsteps in snow had vanished.
Ambush? <Ren> stopped in her tracks, ears and eyes tensed and seeking out some form of stimuli.
She could hear the man rushing at her before she saw him, an indeterminate object in his hand.
Knife. Her left hand flicked upward, a snake spitting venom. Her weapon was a thin blade, optimized for straight flight. Pinpoint hit to the wrist, forcing the man to drop the object as he cries out. Not a knife. A now-familiar soft sound in the snow.
Another concussion grenade.
<Ren> bolts, even as the man clumsily fumbles for the weapon. The sudden blast flings her sideways. A wooden shack broke her fall. <Ren> was thankful that she was being slammed into her left side. Balancing out the pain. She was more prepared this time, rolling with the blast and coming to a stop on her knees.
Stupid. <Ren> tore the splinter-filled balaclava from her face. She couldn't tell if the shredding pain was from the cold of the splinters ripping into her face.Careless. Stupid.
A click. Metal on metal, a gun being readied.
Oura.
"Keep those hands away from your swords." Gun trembling in his hand, a mix of terror and delight on Kanemaru's face. He was alone, possibly trailing his bodyguards when they went after <Ren> in the storm. The wind was beginning to die out, and she could clearly see the man's face. "Stay on your knees. Hands on the ground."
<Ren> silently obeyed, hands in the cold snow. Oura hadn't yelled out to his colleagues but the explosion would bring them round soon enough.
"Not so scary without your knives, eh?" Only brave against a girl when holding a weapon. The courage granted by holding a gun, not a true courage. Nowhere near bravery. "Those cowards in the Diet couldn't even face me in a fair fight!"
"Cowards?" <Ren> could not help but mock the man. The pistol he held was more like a toy than an actual weapon, the way he held it. "This coming from someone too scared to face a little girl without a gun."
"I'm not stupid!" He spat in the tone of a fool after being found out. "I know the Johohonbu sent you! You're all afraid of me!" The politician was forcing himself to smile. Faking courage that he had none of. "You want me silenced. Why?"
"Not my department. Not my job."
"Because you're afraid of me, that's why! You're afraid of Kanemaru Oura!" A ham actor, finally given his captive audience. A small part of <Ren> wished he wouldn't try to kill her with bloated monologue. "You're afraid because you know I'm right! I am the hope for Japan! I am a patriot!"
You're a loony. <Ren> realized she didn't really care why Kanemaru Oura was marked for death, and that it didn't really matter. All she wanted to do was make him shut up. Permanently.
"It no longer matters." Kanemaru's laugh was off-kilter, like a record being scratched while playing. "What can you do? You have no weapons left!"
Oura was wrong. There were weapons all around her. Shards of cold icicles were mixed in uneven, jagged edges like shattered glass sticking out of the snow and street. They were swimming in a sea of cold swords.
"A knife is just a tool to be used and thrown away. Not even worth the respect and value of a sword. But more great men were killed by a knife than with a sword." The words from the girl's lips seemed to cause the air to freeze. "And you're not much of a man, either."
Kanemaru fidgeted, holding his gun in both hands but visibly trembling. "How dare you speak to me like that!"
"Because you're nothing." <Ren> remained kneeling, hands in the snow and ice. Her right hand clutched a good-sized icicle. Just the right length. "You're just another target."
"What'll you do? Throw a snowball at me?"
"Yes." <Ren> smiled her devilishly cruel smile. "Bet your life on it?"
"Watch the suit, little girl." He laughed aloud, carelessly pointing at her with his pistol. "I'll kill you if you stain it."
The wind whistled in the cold, piercing even his insides. A second later, the man realized it was not the wind or the cold that he was feeling. The assassin was holding her right arm straight. As though she had thrown something. Frightened, Oura looked down.
Blood staining the snow and pinkish garbled flesh was running from the insides of his stomach down to his pants leg. The blunt end of an icicle sticking out of his abdomen, which he never noticed even being there. He didn't even see her throw the weapon. There wasn't even pain until he realized that the slowly growing hole in his stomach really should hurt.
"Oh, I'm sorry." <Ren> sneered back, even as she felt the muscles in her right arm spasm in white-hot pain. "I cut your suit."
Oura stammered silently, suddenly kneeling. Frustrated, angry. But unable to give voice to them. The talkative man, unable to speak as he dropped facefirst into the snow.
There was no remorse. But neither was there was no exhilaration.
It feels empty. <Ren> found herself giggling despite standing in the cold silence. A slightly mad, empty laugh as she looked up at the incoming footsteps in the snow. By now, the wind and snow had stopped, and <Ren> was in clear daylight.
The guards had finally caught up to her.
What took you so long? <Ren> resisted the urge to insult them openly. They were angry. Some had blood streaking across their suits and faces. Some of them still had her knives sticking out of their arms. Injured and scared, but most of all angry.
<Ren> drew her swords. Her real swords. Straight and curved. Her right hand lancing in pain as she carried the handle tightly.
The men had their guns drawn. The guards formed a wall between her and freedom.
Say what you may. <Ren> wielded her blades backhanded, as her father and his forefathers before had when taking a life. With a bitter but rare honest smile. In the end I am still my father's child.
Gunfire erupted.
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2015-02-05, 08:29
Author
Official art: They know what we want.
"Focus entirely on me, you ordinary soldier."
