Fooly Cooly
Faster Than Light
Today is the day. This is the day I make something happen. That's what I'm hoping, anyway.
Because nothing ever happens here, not anymore, not since that woman left. It's been nothing but normal days, with ordinary people, living commonplace lives. The Medical Mechanica plant has been shut down ever since the day Haruko took off, untouched for about five years now. Not as many people lost their jobs as everyone thought when it 'closed its doors.' Looking back, I don't think anyone ever really worked there, but whatever. Most everyone seems to have forgotten all about it now as it lies, derelict, on top of a hill everyone avoids. I'd wanted this, once – a return to normality. Now I think that may have been a mistake.
A car horn blares at me because it looked like I might walk out into the street, but I had already stopped. I had to stop, or I'd have been out of tune. Guess I cut it kind of close, though – made the driver nervous. He's shouting something, but, to be honest, I can't summon enough concern for the man to listen.
"-idiot kid! Go back to school!" manages to make it through.
It isn't like this was the first time I've skipped. I've even gotten to be known as something of a delinquent. I shake my head. Of course he doesn't know that. I ignore him until the light changes and he leaves in an angry rush.
I don't get into fights or anything stupid like that, but I usually only show up for class when I have nothing better to do. The teachers try to talk to me about it sometimes, but it's not like there's a problem. There's nothing for them to fix. I've just been focused on other things.
The tune I've been following picks up tempo, and just as I start walking to keep in step, the light at the crosswalk changes. I smile because I'm getting better at this: I'm getting better at reading the N.O. It was hard at first, and I really didn't notice it at all until a couple months after Haruko had left. Then, over time, I started to notice. Guess it was because I'm 'attuned' to it or something, like those people on T.V. that claim to be 'attuned to the dead,' but whatever the reason, I started noticing it, and once I did it was hard to stop.
I remember when I was on the road with her, Haruko told me a little about N.O., but all she said was it had something to do with the waves given off by the left and right sides of the brain. It was how she kept pulling things through my head, I know that much, and I know Atomsk's power came from it. I still don't know what it is, exactly, but, even though that's the case, I've been figuring out how to use it anyway. Funny isn't it? You can have no idea how something works, like a car or a cell phone, but you can still use it just fine.
That's how it was for me. At first it was just a weird feeling, like pins and needles in my forehead, but it got worse over time. It was hard to pick out the patterns back then because it was uncomfortable, fuzzy, and it gave me headaches. The only thing that made it calm back down was going back to my room. That's part of why I started skipping class. The headaches would get too bad to concentrate, so I'd give up and go home, lay in my bed until it went away. At first I'd go see the nurse, but that got to be a pain after a while. Then the school got a new nurse, one that asked a lot of very specific questions. I was already suspicious, but when she started prescribing Amaro's special eyebrows to treat my problem, I decided it was time to cut out the middle man and just go home. I didn't get it; probably never would have either. I thought Haruko had given me brain damage from all the times she'd hit me in the head with her guitar and all the weird stuff she pulled out of it. Then, one day I was just laying in my room, thinking I was going crazy and wondering if I was going to start hearing radio channels from my teeth, and I noticed Haruko's guitar. It was buried in clothes and other stuff that I'd heaped on top. I hadn't touched it since she left. Now, I wasn't feeling nostalgic or anything. I was just bored, and I thought I'd try playing it, just pluck a string or two, but as soon as I touched it, everything changed.
The N.O. wasn't fuzzy anymore. It still didn't make any sense, but it was coming through loud and clear. I remember it seemed to be coming from everywhere, and from everything – waves of energy. Some bounced off some things, some flowed through others. Sometimes this changed the rhythm, sometimes it didn't. It was chaotic and crazy and unpredictable and exactly, exactly like Haruko. It was better than static, though, so I started carrying that guitar almost everywhere, and just like that I stopped having headaches. It took me a while, longer than I'm proud to admit, but after a lot of thought and a few happy accidents I came to realize what these guitars are. They're tuning instruments, tools for using N.O. They don't tune the N.O., though, like I thought they did at first. Instead, they tune the person holding them, or, as it turned out, whatever you hit with them. People are different, though, we give off our own, really complicated rhythm, and most people can only hear their own beat. It's like a chorus of the tone deaf, everyone just playing out of tune, following basic rhythms without knowing how or why, but never really syncing up. If you couldn't hear it, then it wouldn't bother you, being out of tune I mean. For me, and I guess people like Haruko, the guitar helps get you in tune with the ambient N.O. They do more, if you know how to make them, but mostly they're for tuning. After a while, since everything was less fuzzy, I started noticing patterns, little beats. Then I started to notice how some of these little beats played off one another, how they affected one another, forming little tunes, and the farther I follow it, the more things start to seem less chaotic.
I've been practicing a lot since then, with Canti, mostly, and I can follow bigger tunes, follow them farther, but I think I've gone as far as I can without Haruko. I need to see her again. I just hope I'm ready. Up ahead, far in the distance, is the old Medical Mechanica plant, sitting lopsided on top of the hill where Atomsk dropped it. I've put this off long enough, I think.
It's August, so it's hot, but that doesn't bother me. It's just part of the rhythm. The sun is playing its part, and it's got a pretty strong beat. Everything else is in chorus, and its waves are rising back off the pavement. I could try to play along, but the timing isn't right, and I need to follow a different tune anyway. It won't be time for me to go on for a while yet. Even then, I won't be using my own instrument. This makes me a little nervous as I adjust the strap across my shoulder and frown. She took mine, so it was her guitar that was stuck to my back instead, making the sweat run down under my school uniform. I didn't realize it would be a big deal when I was just learning, but now…my train of thought is broken by a subtle change that makes me lose the beat. I blink a few times in confusion, then try to get it back.
I'm passing the stairs that lead down to the train station, trying to get back in step, when I hear Ninamori's voice from behind me. It breaks my concentration again, and I give up on following that particular pattern any farther.
Ninamori. That explained the change. It can be a little frustrating, the way some people affect the beat without knowing it. They make things unpredictable.
"Found you! I knew you'd be coming here! Didn't you listen at all the last time?" she asks as she catches up to me, "The teachers are talking about disenrolling you, do you know that?
She's also in her school uniform, same style as mine, and her shoulder length hair is a little out of place. Sweat is beading on her forehead, and she seems out of breath. Guess she ran here.
"They won't," I say, "They have to make me seem normal, or all their extra funding gets cut. It's bad for you to be here though, right? The class rep should be in class."
She blushes a little, but I pretend not to notice.
"It looks bad on me if I have a lot of delinquents in my class," she says, defensively.
"Then you should have gone to a better school, like your dad wanted."
It's the same old argument that we always have. She really should have gone to the rich kid school in Tokyo since she's the mayor's daughter and her grades have always been good. Nobody knows why she didn't. Even though the argument always went the same way, this still makes her mad. I can see it in the way she purses her lips and everything about her seems to tense up for a moment. I know where this is going. She'll shout, then she'll storm off. That's good since I'm going to miss my window if I stick around here all day. Already lost the tune, but I can catch a similar wave if I get going now.
I start to walk again while I wait for her to finish the routine.
"Damn it, Naota!"she shouts, but after a few seconds I realize she isn't running off like I thought she would. She sighs, then jogs alongside me and matches my pace, still angry but not as much as I thought she'd be.
See what I mean? Completely offbeat. Unpredictable.
"Why do you always carry that dumb old thing?" she asks, referring to Haruko's guitar, "I've never seen you play it. Do you even know how?"
"Not really," I admit, "It's no good for music, anyway."
"Then why carry it?"
"Because it throws people off," I say with a sly smile that says I know it wasn't the answer she was hoping for. I almost never give her straight answers. It's not that I don't want to tell her the truth; it's just that she has this habit of asking questions that I have a hard time answering honestly.
She rolls her eyes, then there's a pause before she asks, "So, where are we going?" ignoring the fact that I'd dodged her questions again.
"You should go back to class," I tell her, flatly.
"So should you," she answers, matching my tone.
"I'm a delinquent," I say.
"Then I'll be a delinquent too."
Her answer is annoying, but I end up smiling anyway. I actually like these arguments we have. I don't know if it's because I like her or if I just like the break in routine. Either way, I think she enjoys it too, since she's always coming up with reasons to follow me around or stop by my house. She'll drop off assignments from teachers, scold me for skipping, and just about anything else she can think of to argue over. Her rhythm is so hard to follow, though, that I don't try to understand what she does. It might not matter after my performance anyway. That thought makes a small, sinking feeling start in my stomach, but I dismiss it with a heavy breath. I'd made up my mind. No sense doubting my decision now.
We walk along the street together for a while, until it slopes uphill and the buildings become sparse, and she says, "You're going up to the plant again, aren't you?"
When I don't answer, she says, "You're going to get yourself into more trouble."
I smile. She's probably right.
"But you're bringing that guitar this time." She's stopped walking, so I stop too. "You never bring it when you go there. I thought you were afraid they would take it away or something."
She waits, but I don't say anything. What was there to say?
"They won't let you in. They don't let anyone in. Besides, aren't you afraid of what they'll do to your family? You're dad doesn't work, and your shop doesn't sell bread since your grandfather passed on."
I frown, but still don't say anything, so she keeps going, "Everybody knows they pay for everything. If you keep trying to get into the old plant, then they might stop giving you money."
"Maybe," I say, scratching the back of my head, "but that just means Dad will have to find a job, like everyone else."
"I'm not talking about your dad!" she says, clenching her fists, "why can't you just…YOU'RE SUCH AN IDIOT, NAOTA! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO WEIRD?"
She doesn't meet my eyes, and after a moment her face starts turning red. I look away and pretend I don't notice her embarrassment, and, after a moment, I start walking again. She huffs behind me, but I hear her feet as she follows.
I can't say she's wrong. I'm not exactly normal. Everybody else went right back to normal when Haruko left. It was like the whole thing had been a big, exciting dream, one that everyone shared, but everyone agreed to forget. I couldn't though. I'd told her I loved her, but, looking back, she was right to call me a kid. I probably didn't love her, not really. Admired her, maybe. And maybe that was why I hadn't gone back to normal like everyone else. Because I wanted to be more like her, different and exiting.
I'm not like her, though. Not exactly. Everybody has their own unique rhythm, their own beat that they move to. Mine isn't quite like Haruko's, but it's nothing like most people's, subdued and predictable. Even after the smoke stopped coming out of the plant, people still acted like it was washing their brains clean. Maybe that's just how most people are. Plain.
As I walk, the plant gets closer and closer, and as it does, the tune I'm following grows more muffled, like its being flattened out. That's what Medical Mechanica does, I guess. They flatten out the rhythm of the N.O. so it's easier to read. I hate that, though. It sucks the life right out of being alive. We'd already left town, and you would think that a road that only goes to a derelict plant would be run down, but it looks like it had been recently repaved. I also see black government vehicles head this way every once in a while, and I wonder what they want with the place. Maybe its similar to what I'm trying to do?
I realize with growing unease that having Ninamori around is a problem, and all these thoughts of Haruko make me wonder what she would do in a situation like this.
I come to a sudden stop, smile mischievously and look back at Ninamori.
"What?" she asks, still ruffled.
"Do you really want to know?" I ask, almost mockingly, like she would have, "why I carry this old guitar?"
"It's because it was that woman's," she spits back with a chilly assurance, "you're old housekeeper, the one with the vespa."
I feel my eyebrows go up in surprise, but I keep my composure and say, "Yeah, that's part of it. Probably not what you think, though."
"Then why?" she asks, "Why does a person who can't play the guitar carry one around all the time?"
My smile fades, replaced by sudden, hopefully unexpected sincerity, and I say, "You remember what happened, don't you? With the plant, Medical Mechanica…with Haruko?"
She looks down at the ground and hesitates, but then she meets my eyes fiercely, "Of course I do! Everyone remembers, but you're the only one who won't let it go! It's because of that woman! Why can't –"
"Eri," I interrupt. Using her first name is a bit bold, but it trips her up enough for me to speak, and I continue, "She took something that belongs to me, and I'm going to go get it back."
She's still flustered, and looks confused, but she manages to ask, "What does she have that's worth going back there?"
"My instrument," I say. I sling Haruko's guitar around in front of me and plucking a string. It warbles flatly. "This one's hers, so it's always out of tune when I use it."
She frowns, "You said you can't play the guitar."
I smile, "I said it's no good for music."
Her composure changes and she suddenly adopts a cool, aloof attitude. This was always her fallback when she was feeling conflicted and didn't know what to do. It reminds me of when we were younger, and we thought acting that way made us look cool.
Still, after a few seconds of silent, dispassionate glaring, she asks, "So, why do you carry the guitar around, Naota?"
My smile gets a little wider, and I say, "I could just tell you, but I don't think it would make any sense. Tell you what, though, if you wait back in town, then I'll show you when I get back."
She rolls her eyes like she knew I wasn't going to give her a straight answer, and says, "You're just trying to ditch me again."
"Could be," I answer, "but if you can't trust me that much, then you wouldn't believe the answer anyway. That's why I have to show you."
She stares at me, and raises a skeptical eyebrow.
"That's the deal, Ninamori," I say, "If you don't like it, then I'll just keep making up weird answers for you."
She seems to think it over, then, unexpectedly, she marches up to a few inches in front of me and locks eyes.
"Promise me," she demands.
I blink, then say, "Alright, I promise. I'll show you when I get back."
She doesn't seem satisfied, and I'm about to try and reassure her, but she leans forward. Her eyes are closed, our lips touch, and I can feel the warmth of her skin. I feel the blood rush to my face, I blink, and it's over.
"They have guns," she says, stepping back and bringing a hand bashfully to her lips as she stares at the ground, "Just promise you won't do anything stupid."
Before I can answer, she turns on her heel and starts marching away.
I come to my senses and shout, "Don't you want to hear my answer?"
She stops long enough to look back over her shoulder with that aloof look on her face, even though she's blushing as bad as I am, and says, "You can show me by being in class tomorrow! And you better show me what's so great about your guitar too!" Then she walks away.
The mayor's daughter, bossy, aggressive, likes to argue, but really cute sometimes.
Oh well, problem solved, I guess. I try to stop smiling, but I can't.
I catch the tune I'd been following, or one like it anyway, and I start walking toward the plant again, though with a bit more bounce in my step now. The trees are pretty thick alongside the road. It's usually how I sneak past the guards. They're like that all the way up to some parts of the fence, and there was one place where I could slip under. I'm not going that way today, though. There's no point in sneaking around since I need the whole area cleared out for my performance. Better to go ahead and make a scene this time.
It isn't long before the end of the road comes into view. There's a guard booth, the gate, and the big fence. As I get closer, I can see the guard inside the booth is on the phone. He looks like he's nervous. The guard by the gate sees me coming, and puts his hand on butt of his pistol. Are they going to shoot me? That didn't seem likely. Not yet, anyway.
"That's close enough, kid!" the gate guard shouts, "we're under orders to keep you away from the plant."
I keep walking, but I smile and say, "Really? Did Amaro mention me specifically? Or did you mean you're supposed to keep everyone away from the plant?"
I reach back and take Haruko's guitar in my right hand. It was a made for left-handers, but there was nothing I could do about that. As soon as I grab it, everything snaps into focus. Everything is clearer, but I can feel the limits of using someone else's instrument. Still, I can feel the beat, the waves coming from each guard, and I think I can tell how the moves are going to play out. I just have to keep up.
"Shit," I hear the guard say. He looks to the guy in the booth and says, "Ask command if we have permission to shoot!"
"Don't worry about command," I say, easily. I feel my own N.O. as it syncs up with the cacophony of everything else. As it does, it all seems less chaotic, and I can almost hear a kind of symphony. I practiced this with Canti. Now I have to move with the waves. Before the guard can blink, I'm standing just behind him, and before his brain can catch up, I smile back and say, "You can shoot if you want."
He doesn't have time to draw. I swing the guitar around and catch him in the back of the head. I control it though, hold back. The guitar rings out, and he flies off into the trees. The second guard is shouting into his phone now, but when he sees me looking his way he pulls his own gun and starts shooting.
I follow the rhythm and make sure I'm not where the bullets are going to be. My body moves in ways it probably shouldn't be able to. Not one bullet even scratches me as I lunge forward and swing hard, shattering the booth with the man inside. The guitar rings, and the waves it gives off are echoed by each and every splinter and broken brick of the now ruined booth as they fly. I use the resonance to guide the pieces so the man is unconscious but unhurt…mostly…he'll be alright.
Two down.
A slight hop carries me up and over the fence. I land lightly on the pavement just beyond with the iron-shaped Medical Mechanica plant looming in front of me.
There should be two more guards patrolling the premises, and I see one of them running my way with his gun drawn as I walk across the wide open blacktop between the gate and the plant. Two bullets hit the ground just past where I had been standing only a moment ago. Would have gone right through me, but I'd felt them coming and jumped. I clear a good twenty feet before I feel gravity start to pull back, and as it does I pull myself through the N.O., back toward the earth before he can start shooting again. I come down right in front of him, and I come down hard. I strike the ground like lightning, and Haruko's guitar makes the thunder. The earth caves in slightly and blows outward from the force of the impact. A wave erupts from the instrument, sending the man hurtling out into the fence where he collapses in a heap. The last guard comes running around the far side of the plant just in time for me to swing and catch the other man's pistol on its way back down from the blast a moment ago. The pistol flies out, ricochets off the distant guard's head, and down he goes, leaving me smiling confidently to myself.
That's all for the opening act, on with the show.
In the distance, I can hear the chopping of helicopters, and, because I'm on top of the hill, I can see a group of black cars speeding toward town. They had to be on their way here – probably Amaro and his ridiculous eyebrows. He comes by the shop sometimes to check in on me and my dad. Keeping tabs on me, really.
I pull out my phone and call Canti. As usual, he answers after only one ring.
He can't say anything, but he can hear just fine, so I say, "Hey, It's me. The place is clear, but more are coming. Hurry up and get over here."
He should be in the woods nearby waiting if he remembered the plan at all. Sometimes I think Haruko knocked the brains right out of that robot, but he's never failed me in a pinch.
While I wait, I decide to go ahead and get things moving, so I walk over to the plant. I take a deep breath, and I reach out to touch its surface. The N.O., which already felt subdued here, went completely flat when I touched it. I concentrate and think of Haruko.
These plants were the opposite of a focus. They didn't tune a user, they tuned the ambient N.O. so that it was all flat. I think I can get them to do something else, though. If I can tune the plant, even for a second, maybe it will tune the ambient N.O. along with it. I don't know if it'll work, but I've been right about other stuff like this.
So here goes nothing.
I pull the ripcord on the back of Haruko's guitar and it rumbles to life, pouring out a familiar feeling N.O., her N.O. It gives it off like radiation as I plant my feet, tighten my grip, and swing, just like she taught me. The ground shakes as I make contact, and the guitar screeches out against the plant's stillness.
I wait a moment for the sound to die, but it doesn't. It gets louder, and I realize it's the plant making it now. White smoke suddenly billows out and the plant's siren joins in the clamor for the first time in years as the entire thing begins to glow a bright yellow.
I can't help but laugh. I think that it's working, and that I just might be some kind of genius!
At that moment, Canti crashes down next to me, an alarmed question mark flashing across his screen. There was always something odd about Canti's rhythm. It isn't quite like a machine, but it isn't quite like a normal person's either. It's more like…mine and Haruko's, but a little different. It's hard to explain, but suffice it to say he can use N.O. like us. He says it's how he flies, and he tried to show me how to do it, but I couldn't figure that one out. Best I could do was pull myself along in quick dashes. Still, him being able to use N.O. is what made him such a great partner to practice everything with. Sometimes I wonder why Medical Mechanica would build a robot that can use N.O., but Canti doesn't like to talk about Medical Mechanica, so I usually have to let it go.
"Now what?" flashes across the robot's screen as he points at the glowing plant, "and why is that glowing?"
I don't feel good about this, but I wasn't entirely honest with him when I told him why I wanted him here.
"I don't really have time to explain, so do me a favor and stand right there," I say, walking back from the plant and pointing at a spot on the ground in front of me, "I need you to watch the plant and wait for something."
He accommodates, like always, which makes me feel a bit worse. Still, I wouldn't do any permanent damage…probably.
I pull the ripcord again, and the guitar resonates. I take my stance just as Canti turns to ask "what am I waiting for–"
I catch him right in the midsection, and he slams back into the plant. Rather than falling back down, though, he seems to stick to the side of it like a magnet on a refrigerator door. Light shoots out blindingly from his screen, and I wait. Canti had been used as a gate before. Same as me.
Come on…come on! I think. Do something!
After a few moments, the sound begins to die, the smoke stops pouring out, and the siren stops. My heart sinks a little as I think that maybe all I did was make a lot of noise, but once the din dies completely, something else rings out from Canti's head.
It sounds like a phone.
The ringing stops, and a voice says, "Hello? Who is this? You're not selling something stupid, like...sporks or something, are you?"
It's Haruko's voice, I'm sure of it. I haven't heard it in a while, but it's not something you forget. So, there it is, there's really only one thing left to do.
"…Heloooo"
I'm not sure about this, but…I think at this point I'm supposed to go through Canti's head. I step closer and give the robot's glowing screen a scrutinizing look. How does this work? I've never been on this end before, since, in my experience, things always used to come out of my head.
"Ugh, if you're not going to say anything then hang up. Can I hang up? How do I hang up my own head? Heeeeeey, answer me."
I reach out to touch Canti's screen, but my hand goes clean through, disappearing into the bright light. So, do I just jump in? I'm not sure what to do here, but when I try to pull my hand back I'm surprised to discover that I can't.
"Oh, man…oh I'm gonna sneeze."
I yank a few more times without success, then plant my feet on Canti's chest and try to pull my hand free with everything I've got, but I can feel it pulling back. N.O. starts spiraling into the light from around me, pouring into Canti's head, and it gets harder and harder to resist the pull.
"Ah…Ahh…"
My foot slips, and I topple forward into the light. I'm blinded by it for an instant as I'm pulled in.
"Ah-Choo!"
The next thing I know, I'm hitting the ground hard and skidding to a stop on a metal floor. I'm stunned for a moment, but I blink back my suprise and push myself up into a sitting position while my eyes readjust.
"Huh," I say, looking around. There are a lot of odd looking, tall buildings. The closest one I see is about five hundred meters away, and I seem to be sitting on a big, flat, metal circle which, on closer inspection, is hanging off the side of a big building behind me. "Where…am I?"
"Eeew," Haruko's voice says, making me look over to my right. And just like that, there she is. She's standing there, staring at me with a look of complete disgust as she wipes at her nose with a finger. "My booger is talking."
A big, stupid smile spreads across my face and I can't make it go away. I realize she's talking about me, though, and I frown at what she just said. She looks the same. It strikes me as very strange how exactly the same she looks. Same weird pink hair, same slender features, same yellow eyes with the same sharp look in them. She looked to be the same age. She had the same…nose. "Did I," I start as she sniffles, "just come out of your nose?"
"Yeah, that's where boogers come from."
"Huh," I say, dumbly, as I get to my feet and take another quick look around, "That's not what I expected, but this definitely isn't Mabase."
Overhead, I can see what look like space ships flying in neatly organized lines as they move between buildings…and also the sky is green. Almost mint green.
I laugh and run my hand back over my head and through my hair. I almost can't believe it, "It actually worked!"
"Uhh," I hear from behind me.
"Haruko," I say, turning to face her and cutting off whatever she was about to say, "I need to talk to you."
"Do we…" she says, squinting at me, "know each other?"
I smile.
"You don't recognize me, huh?" I say, not really surprised. I shrug, and then I swing her guitar up and rest it on my shoulder, "You recognize this, though, right?"
She smirks, but her eyes narrow a little.
"How've you been, evil space alien?"
"Pffff!" she spits out before bursting into laughter, "Look at you, still trying to act cool! After I just sneezed you!"
I try to keep my embarrassment from showing, but she has a point. I attempt to quickly change the subject by saying, "So you do remember me."
She settles down, looks me up and down, and shakes her head.
"Not really, sorry kid," she says, turning and walking toward a weird looking motorcycle parked not far away, "welcome to Neodora, hope you like it here."
The bike is pretty big, and it's yellow. The same yellow as the vespa she used to ride. It doesn't have wheels, though, and it just sort of floats. It's pretty cool, really, like something you'd see in a sci-fi movie or a manga or something. Still, I'm more interested in what is sitting on the back of it - a big, red, double-necked guitar.
I smile even wider this time. Jackpot.
I spring forward, pulling myself against the N.O. Haruko is nothing but a brightly colored streak in the instant that I pass her, and then I've crossed the big metal circle and land easily in front of the bike. I can feel the waves rolling off the instrument. It's strong. Shockingly strong.
It isn't exactly mine though. I can feel something familiar hidden in it all, calling to me, but it's all mixed up. Half of that thing is mine, but half of it is Atomsk's and I'm not sure what to do about that. I reach out to pick it up, but I don't get that far.
Two feet plant themselves harshly into my ribcage, and I careen across the open metal ground. Haruko springs off me from her dropkick and lands in a crouch while I crash to a rough stop, her guitar landing a few feet away.
I pick myself up and shake my head to clear the shock. Hadn't felt that one coming.
"You can't have that," she says.
"Why not?" I wheeze, brushing myself off.
She bats her eyes and strikes a ridiculous, dreamy pose, "Because it's a memento of a lost love! He promised himself to me, but we knew we could never truly be together. Like star-crossed lovers we went our separate ways, me with his guitar and he with mine!"
Her eyes grow sharp, and her dreamy smile turns into a smirk, "so you see I'm quite attached to it."
I fold my arms behind my head and act like I don't know what she's getting at. I know the game she's playing. She's trying to throw off my rhythm.
"Sounds romantic," I say, "I feel sorry for the guy though. Was he blind?"
Her smirk widens just a bit, and she says, "You know, I can't remember. He was short, though, like really short, even for a little kid. And he had these big puppy dog eyes. They were kind of pathetic, you know?"
I put on a look of disgust and say, "Little kid…? So, you one of those types, huh?"
We stare at each other with forced smiles for a moment, there is a long silence, then she starts to laugh. I feel my fake smile giving way to a real one, and I laugh too.
When we're done, she asks, "What do you want, Naota?"
"My guitar," I answer, glad she hadn't called me 'Ta-kun.'
She shakes her head and shrugs, saying, "Your guitar? You've got mine, don't you? What's wrong with that?"
I look over at her instrument as it lays there on the ground and grimace.
"It doesn't work anymore."
"There's nothing wrong with it. Stop being such a brat," she counters.
I shake my head determinedly.
"I need mine. Yours won't work. You know what I'm talking about."
"Maybe you just lack talent," she says flatly, "I don't have any problems using someone else's."
I sigh. She might be telling the truth, but I doubt it. I mull it over as I walk over and pick up her weird blue guitar. She had to be at a disadvantage using an instrument that wasn't hers…wasn't a part of her.
"Maybe you're guitar is just garbage," I toss back. I pluck a string and wince at the sound it makes, "I mean, its gaudy, and it sounds like crap."
Her eye twitches.
"Seriously, what's with the stupid ripcord? It looks like a kid's toy. And I worry sometimes, you know? It makes everything seem loud and crazy, and I think, 'what if this thing is screwing up my brain? What if I end up as crazy as Haruko…?' That scares me. That really scares me."
"Naota…" she says, masking a snarl with a forced smile.
I crouch down and look like I'm inspecting her guitar closely as I hold it out in front of me. I let out an exaggerated sigh, and then start banging it on the ground harshly. I don't focus with it, so it just strikes the ground and makes a horrible noise, and every time it does, Haruko's right eye twitches ever-so-slightly.
Did you know that the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body? Haruko is a lefty too. Right eye keeps twitching like that side of her head hurts.
I smile and stop banging on her instrument. I'm being smug, and I know it, but I have to admit, getting to her like this feels good.
"You brat," she says in a barely audible whisper, "I leave that for you to take care of, and this is how you repay me?"
Haruko stomps her right foot on the ground, and, behind her, her bike bucks like a horse, tossing my mismatched guitar high into the air. I lose sight of it as it passes in front of the sun, but Haruko just stands there. She holds out her hand expectantly, and catches the falling instrument by one of its necks just before it hits the ground.
My smile falters just a little, my mouth goes dry, and my stomach rises into my chest. I tell myself to stay calm. She's using a guitar that's half mine and half Atomsk's, so she's just as handicapped as I am. Maybe even twice as handicapped. I felt the waves coming off of that thing, even Haruko would have a hard time using it…or so I tell myself.
I focus on the instrument in my hand. As I do I can feel her N.O. as she focuses on the one in hers, and in that moment I start to feel like candle standing in front of a bonfire.
Then I smile again. Oh well, can't exactly turn back. Here goes.
I dash, pulling through the N.O., and end up just behind her as I bring an upward arching swing toward her back. The look of surprise on her face is encouraging for a second, but then she swings around like a coiled spring. When our instruments meet it makes my teeth rattle. She doesn't budge, but I get pushed back a few feet by the force of the impact. Dust rises all around us in a cloud at the edge of the shock wave as I skid to a halt, shake it off and stand up straight again.
Okay, so she's definitely stronger than I am. Still, I've seen her swing harder. The last time we fought I had absorbed Atomsk. That power was insane, and she held her own against it. It was different now. I was a whole hell of a lot weaker, but she didn't seem to be in top shape either.
I smile again. Looks like I was right. She couldn't use that double necked monster properly.
I dash forward, landing to her left, and I notice she didn't follow the movement. Her eyes turn to me as if I'd appeared out of nowhere. Was it too fast? I don't have time to get a second thought as she directs a vicious horizontal slash at my head. I evade by dashing again just as I feel my own guitar brushing against my hair. This time I land a ways to her right. She's still following through with her pervious swing, so I take advantage of the opening, leaping up at her from my crouched position and bring her guitar down hard toward her right shoulder just as she notices me. Before the swing can connect, she spins away, rebounds, and brings my guitar crashing against her own as I defend myself with it.
I'm sent flying for the second time, but I land on my feet and manage to send a pained smile back at Haruko despite the stinging in my hands. This isn't going well.
"That's a neat little trick you've got there, Naota-kun," Haruko says with what may be genuine admiration, "You zip around so fast it's like trying to swat a fly out of the air."
"Thanks," I say back, "I call it dashing. Figured it out while Canti was trying to teach me to fly."
Haruko smiles innocently, floats up so that there's about two feet of air between her and the ground, and says, "You mean like this? I thought you knew how already. You did it last time."
I shrug and say, "I think that was more Atomsk than me. I still can't do it."
"Poor Naota," Haruko says, floating idly, "can't get it up without Atomsk's help?"
I visibly flinch at her joke. I know it isn't cool to let it show, but that was rough. Haruko starts laughing and spinning in the air at my discomfort, and I realize she's wide open.
No, I can't fly, but I can jump just fine, and dashing works in the air.
I jump up a good six feet, then pull hard against the N.O. My dash ends far behind Haruko, leaving her looking in all directions for me. Before gravity can start to pull me down, I dash again, this time springing off a nearby wall and into a third dash which ends above Haruko. I let gravity do its thing, swing down hard, and to my surprise, it actually connects.
The guitar hits Haruko square in the back, sending her slamming into the hard ground below, but before my feet can even meet the deck she recoils and springs away on her free hand, landing where I had been a moment ago. Our positions were now reversed.
She looks angry for a moment, but then she smirks and rolls her shoulders as if she had a crick in them.
I hadn't exactly held back on that swing, but Haruko just looks…uncomfortable. I don't imagine it had felt good on her end, but it doesn't seem to have done much damage either. Regardless, I suddenly feel a little more confident. Part of me didn't think I'd even be able to land a hit.
Haruko stops rolling her shoulders, turns her head to the side, and says with a melancholy look, "Wow, to think you'd grow up to be the sort of man that would hit a lady like that. What would your mother think?"
I make my whole body wilt, and put on my best wounded expression, saying, "My mother…died when I was little. I barely even remember her." Then I look at the ground, squat down, and start drawing circles in the dust with my finger like a hurt child.
I look up at Haruko to see her reaction, but it wasn't what I was hoping for. She looks like someone just farted.
"Oh man," she says, bringing her hand to her mouth as if to keep from vomiting, "that's the worst acting I've ever seen. I think I'm gonna be sick."
"Come on!" I shout back, getting back up to my feet, "I'm hurting here! Where's your womanly sympathy?"
"Didn't you tell me your mom ran out on your deadbeat father when you were eight?"
There's a short, awkward silence as I fail to recover.
"You, uh…you have a pretty good memory," I say, resignedly.
She grins arrogantly and says, "Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I really meant it when I said that trick of yours is neat. How do you do it?"
"You mean dashing?" I ask, a little surprised, and I feel a little more confidence creeping into my head. A short dash lands me right next to her as I say, "You mean you don't know how?"
"Cocky…" is all she says before, almost too late, I notice her body shifting into a hard swing. I dash backward to evade as a blow sliced the air where my head had just been. When I land again she's gone.
"…brat!" is all I hear from above me before Haruko crashes down like a meteor. I step back in time to avoid being hit, but the shock wave hurls me back. I barely even have time to bring her guitar up before she's on me.
She flies at me with reckless abandon, swinging one time after another after another, pressing her brutal, half-crazed assault so fiercely that I can't get away. It's all I can do to meet swing for swing. Each time the guitars meet, it sends fresh agony through my hands and sets my ears to ringing as waves of violently released kinetic energy erupt around us. Luckily, there's a lull, a point where she can't keep up the offensive. Before she can prepare her next salvo, I dash away, landing near her bike.
For just a moment she doesn't notice me. She rears up, tosses her head back, and smiles like a lunatic. It's a wide, shark-toothed smile, and all I can do is stare in wide-eyed wonder. She really is a monster, that Haruko. My hands are throbbing, and I alternate shaking them out before getting my grip back. There's no doubt about it, in a contest of strength, there is no contest. Haruko is going to crush me like a bug if I fight her head on.
But I'm not at a complete disadvantage…
She notices me, and comes flying. She's leaning into her next swing with everything she's got, feet not touching the ground as she hurtles toward me, and I wait. I wait until the swing starts, her shoulders rolling into it, her eyes locked on me like a predator. Then I dash, and her swing catches air.
…I'm faster than she is.
I wait until she spots me, and dash again before she can do anything, landing on the other side of her and just a bit closer. Her head turns my way, and I dash again, landing closer. This time it's only her eye that catches me as I dash one last time, and now I right in front of her, and I'm swinging up at her chin.
She blocks, but the hit is solid, and I follow it with another, then another. It wasn't just that I moved faster, I was swinging faster than her too. A hit almost connects with her shoulder as she tried to keep up, but then our guitars lock and she pushes back fiercely, which throws off my balance. She follows up with a wild downward swing of her own, and I'm forced to dash away.
I land just as her swing strikes the deck, and the whole world seems to shake. The platform we're standing on makes an unnerving metal groan, but it holds, and we both size each other up again from a distance.
Lucky me, I get in the first word.
"That thing looks heavy!" I shout, referring to my guitar. I hold hers up like an offering and say, "I'll trade you."
She laughs, but shakes her head and says, "Give it up, kid. You're fast, but that's not gonna be enough."
I scratch my head and sigh. She's probably right.
"Why do you even want that thing?" I ask, "I can tell it doesn't work for you, just like yours doesn't really work for me."
She acts aloof, leans to the side, and props herself up with the guitar as she picks at her nose with her pinky.
"I could ask you the same thing, Naota-kun," she says, inspecting something she's now extracted from her nose, "why do you want this guitar so bad?"
"Because it's mine!" I answer. I realize how childish I sound after the words leave my mouth, so I follow it by saying, "You know what I mean. It's meant for me."
"Not really," Haruko says, flicking her previous something away with disdain, "It's not just yours, its Atomsk's too."
"Is that why?" I ask, "Because it's his? I thought you wanted to eat him, what good does having his instrument do you?"
"It helps me track him," Haruko answers with sudden, blunt honesty, "when I use it I can feel his mojo. And yeah, I want to eat him…what about you?"
Her eyes lock onto me with narrow suspicion as she waits for my answer.
I'm not entirely sure what she's getting at and I grope for an answer for a moment before eventually taking the most obvious implication.
"Do I want to eat him?" I ask, probingly.
"Well do you?"
"Why would I?"
"You did it before…"
A heavy silence builds in the few seconds it takes for me to string up a response, but I manage to say, "I just want my guitar, Haruko. I don't want anything to do with whatever's going on between you and Atomsk. That's all out of my league."
Her eyebrows go up from either suspicion or disbelief, it's hard to tell with this much distance between us, but I do see her smile. It's a weird sort of smile. Not because anything about it is odd, but because it looks sincere and warm and completely out of place on Haruko's face.
"You think so, huh?" she asked, ironically, "Maybe you don't get it, Naota, but you ate Atomsk. He was all yours. You made this freaky guitar, and you beat me. There aren't too many out there that can handle that kind of N.O. And now here you are, popping out of people's heads uninvited, dashing around like quicksilver, and I can't seem to squish you. You're not the kid I left back in Mabase."
I feel the blood rising in my cheeks and I suddenly find that I can't look at her. I'm not used to getting complimented, and I'm painfully aware of how embarrassed it's making me look. Before I can say anything, though, she says, "From where I'm standing, you could turn into a real threat. I'm wondering if maybe I made a mistake, leaving you my instrument."
Her face is placid and unsettling as the beat of her N.O. rolls over me and makes the hairs on my arm stand on end. I remember when I had absorbed Atomsk, how she'd gotten whipped up into a frenzy. She probably would have killed me, if she could. Whatever her reason was behind it, getting Atomsk was important to her, and despite that all that, she'd left me her instrument. I look at her guitar and think about how it really did help me. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't had it, if Haruko had just taken hers and mine and left. What would have happened with my headaches? Would they have gotten worse?
I frown, look back at Haruko and say, "Guess I forgot to thank you."
She presses the palm of her free hand against her forehead, her previous aggression gone without a trace, and says, "It's true. You've been completely ungrateful. Do you even know what could happen to someone like you if you don't have an instrument?" At this she launches into a series of dramatic gestures, saying, "It starts with headaches, and your eyebrows fall out, but it gets so much worse. Your eyes could melt and leak down your face! Your whole head could explode off of your shoulders! You could mutate into an eight legged, alien arachnid monster and eat your friends and family in order to sustain your evil bloodlust! Or…in extreme cases…you could even lose your manhood!"
I stare blankly at her as she finishes her display. "…huh?"
"Your snake could have lost its venom!" she exclaims, waiting expectantly for me to react.
When I intentionally don't give her what she's looking for, she points her finger at me, then, slowly, lets it go limp-
"I get it already, cut it out!" I shout, which is instantly answered with her satisfied smirk. "Geez, I'm tryin' to say thanks here, ya know?"
Haruko leans in and puts a hand to her ear, saying, "What was that? I can't hear you, you have to be louder!"
I roll my eyes, then chuckle, then shout, "I said thanks for lending me your stupid guitar, you freaky alien! Its gaudy and it makes everything seem crazy, but it really helped, and…I think…I probably would have missed you if you hadn't left it, so thanks."
To my surprise, she actually looks somewhat taken aback. She blinks a few times without saying anything, then recovers, saying, "Yeah, well, don't mention it kid…besides, there's a catch, right?"
I smile brazenly and say, "Yeah. I still want my guitar back."
"And I still need Atomsk's," she replies.
I hum amusedly to myself and rub at the back of my neck.
"I guess there's no way around it then," I say.
Haruko smiles that sharkish smile of hers and says, "Guess not."
For a moment it's like we're horses in the stable, waiting for the gates to open as we stare at one another. My body is tense and coiled, then, like a silent shot was fired, we both rush forward. We meet with the swing of our instruments. Their collision is earth-shaking. Her second swing is a miss, and I counter with a flurry of my own. Her body shifts and contorts like smoke as she evades some hits and bats aside others. A sweeping roundhouse swing from her is too fast to dodge and to fierce to match and I'm sent several feet in the air when I block. I recover after an aerial flip and pull hard against the N.O. so I rebound instantly, swinging hard as I land in front of her. The hit knocks her guard down, but before I can capitalize she brings her own head crashing down on mine.
It's like fireworks going off in my head as colored spots dance in my vision, but at the same time I feel something other than blinding pain as our skulls collide. For just an instant I can feel a connection. Not between me and Haruko, but between Haruko and the instrument I hold in my hand, her instrument. It feels like they connect through me, and in that instant I can feel my own instrument do the same from her hand, through her, and to me. It isn't Atomsk's that I feel, though it's there, it's my own instrument calling me from inside that mashed up, double-necked beast.
But it only lasts an instant.
The rest of the world hammers back into focus as I stagger backward, stunned and barely fend off two heavy blows from Haruko. I manage to dash away to the right, but land too close to a wall and, failing to control my momentum, crash into it. Harko flies at me mercilessly as I stagger to my feet. My vision is blurry from the head butt, and I realize I need a second to recover. Unable to clear my head, I dash the only way I can think to, straight up. I come out mid air, about six stories up, to find Haruko below as she launches upward toward me. I begin to fall and try to use gravity to my advantage, putting everything I've got into one downward swing, but Haruko meets it with an upward swing of her own. They meet mid-air, and the air ripples from the power of it. The glass from the windows of the building beside us shatter violently inward, but that's below me now as I careen upward, windows passing me in blurred succession to indicate how many floors I was flying past until, just as I begin to slow, I crest the top of the building. The light of a foreign sun greets me from the other side, and the ground is so far below it makes me dizzy. Before I can start to fall again, I pull against the N.O., propelling myself sideways so that I slide to a halt on the building's flat rooftop.
Haruko appears as she lunges upward, over the top of the building. She arches over my head, then comes crashing down behind me. I throw my whole body into a double-handed swing that she meets in kind. My arms scream in protest from the impact as building shakes beneath our feet. The boom of the shock wave dies to the sound of broken glass cascading somewhere beyond the edge of the roof, and we meet again. The advantage in speed I enjoyed before wanes as my arms begin to numb and exhaustion starts weighing me down. I dash away to avoid her next blow, then back again, landing only long enough to swing once before dashing away again. I do this repeatedly, but each hit is blocked. Her counter-swings miss by less and less each time I escape, until, finally, one doesn't miss at all. The hit knocks Haruko's guitar clean out of my hands and staggers me. Without an instrument I can feel my connection to the N.O. weaken, and my body locks in anticipation of a finishing blow.
It doesn't come, though. After a few tense seconds of not being smeared across the rooftop my body relaxes just a bit, and I can hear what sounds like sirens in the distance. I look up at Haruko, and she is looking out into the distance at a few dots with flashing lights that are approaching from the direction of the setting sun.
"Space Police," she says, wistfully, as she watches them approach, "Looks like playtime's over, Naota-kun."
I walk over to her guitar and squat down to pick it up. Pins and needles stab at my arms as feeling begins to return to them and I grab the instrument. Haruko looks my way and smiles almost pityingly.
"Give it up already," she says, "You lost, but you did pretty good."
I think back to that headbutt before, the sensation I felt through the pain. It was almost like our instruments were trying to return to their owners.
"If you run now, they might not catch you, you know," Haruko says, "Better to live to fight another day."
I get an idea that makes me smile. I switch her guitar from my right hand to my left, and I say, "Yeah, that's true, my little performance is just about over." Then I reach over, grab the ripcord on Haruko's guitar, and pull, making the instrument rev and pour out Haruko's N.O. "but I think I have time for a curtain call."
I dash forward with everyting I've got left and land an inch from Haruko's face. Simultaneously I grab the second neck of my own guitar with my right hand and swing with my left. I'm right handed, so the swing is slow and awkward, and Haruko simply catches it with her free hand before it can connect. My guitar is now in my good hand, hers is more-or-less in her off hand and it's resonating with her own N.O.
Perfect.
She looks confused at my confident smirk just before I reel my head back and bring it down on hers as hard as I can. Our foreheads collide a second time, and once again I can feel our instruments connecting, but this time Haruko's is resonating strongly.
It all happens in an instant, but in that instant time seems to slow. She can't help it, the pull is too strong, and I feel her focus switch from my guitar to the familiar comfort of her own. At the same time, I switch my own focus to the fusion of my and Atomsk's instrument. I can feel my own N.O., my own rhythm mixed with his. They're in tune with each other as they sing in perfect harmony, but they are still separate, two voices, and I reach for mine.
The instant ends with Haruko in a state of confusion. We each have a hand on the double-necked guitar as it roars out a bright red light. I focus on my own rhythm as it calls out to me in the cacophony, and, slowly at first, but then gradually faster, the harmony starts to break down. I abandon Haruko's instrument, grab my neck of the other guitar with both hands, plant my feet, and I swing away. I swing like my brother did when I was a kid, like Haruko taught me the day she first pulled my own guitar out of my head, and in a screech of metallic cords and a thunderous, ear shattering boom, I tear something free!
The light and sound fades away into the distance like thunder and lightning, and Haruko and I are left facing each other. In Haruko's right hand, she has her own instrument. In her left, she's holding what is unmistakably Atomsk's. Not mine and Atomsk's, just his, just the single-necked, red Gibson of the Pirate King.
As for me, the numbness in my arms is gone, and I can feel the N.O. with a clarity I've never felt before as I look down at what I now hold in my own hands. It's a white, 1967 Gibson Flying V.
It's my guitar.
Haruko blinks a few times, looks at what she's holding in either hand, and then starts to smile. The smile becomes a laugh, and the laugh turns out to be contagious. I'm euphoric, and, most importantly, still alive, and Haruko seems perfectly happy with this new development. We're both still standing there laughing when the police arrive. Their ships form a ring around the rooftop, and a lot of bright lights are shined down on us. Our laughter is drowned out by a man on a loudspeaker who starts saying something about 'unauthorized use of force' and a lot of other stuff but, to be honest, I can't summon enough concern for the man to listen.
"Well, looks like you got what you came for!" Haruko shouts above the noise, "Now what?"
I swing my guitar up gently and rest it over my shoulders, then I shrug and shout back, "I go home now, I guess!"
The man on the loudspeaker begins to sound agitated. Probably because we're not paying attention to him.
Haruko holds both of her guitars in one hand and whistles inaudibly into the fingers of her free hand. Within seconds her big yellow bike comes careening up over the edge of the building and lands beside her. Without so much as flinching, she straddles the bike, smiles at me, and asks, "How do plan on getting there?"
I pause, look down at my guitar, up at the flashy police ships, and then stare at her blankly.
"I have no idea!"
". . ."
Credit Roll
(Author's Note: Jukebox Hero goes well with this, I think)