-Two-

Survivor's Guilt

The next morning found Shogo alone in the hospital room. At least, he thought it was morning…there were no windows, and the clock was gone. In fact, nearly everything that had been in the room the night before—stretchers, monitoring equipment, cabinets full of medicines—was gone. The only things left in the room were his own bed and the one next to his where Amarante Aspen lay, her lips parted slightly.

He sat up uneasily, and his blankets tumbled away. Silently, he peeled off his bandages. The stitches were now gone, leaving a tangle of raised red streaks across his body where his wounds had closed. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he found that movement was much easier than he had thought it would be. Good. If this really was Black Lotus, they would be constantly in danger's path. He didn't want to be caught helpless if the government decided to make a move against them.

The floor was cold, but it was reassuring, in a way. It was nice to feel something solid beneath his feet. A rush of vertigo washed over him, but he refused to sit back down. Gripping the edge of the bed for support, he waited for the sensation to ease, and then slowly, gingerly, straightened. He had to find out what was going on. Were they moving to a different location? Had they been attacked? No…if that were so, there would not have been time to move all of the furniture, and the Captain—he glanced her way and blinked—the Captain of the Guardians would not be lying in bed, staring at him.

"We're getting ready to relocate," she said softly, as though answering his thoughts. "We know where the next Program will be held, and our plan is to set up a more efficient system of retrieval before it begins. After what happened when we went in last time…it has been agreed that more preparations are necessary."

"What happened last time?" Shogo shook his head slowly. "My class, you mean?"

Aspen nodded, her eerily green eyes clouded with grief, but would say no more.

The door opened, and once again, Jun'ko bustled in, her arms full of bandages. She shoved them into a bag and handed the lot to Aspen, who thanked her and left the room. Shogo watched her go, trying not to scratch his newly-healed scars. They itched like hell.

"Physical therapy today," Jun'ko said briskly, producing a cane from behind the door. "You're going to need this for a while. And if I hear a single word of testosterone-laden protest, I will hit you with it in your most testosterone-laden spots. Got it?"

"Got it," Shogo said, wincing at the thought. "You know, your bedside manner leaves a little to be desired."

"I find it to be very effective," she said matter-of-factly, and he took the cane, tested his weight against it, and immediately made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Jun'ko demanded.

"To find a bathroom," he said over his shoulder as he hobbled out into the hallway. "I'm done peeing into a bag."

---

The next two months were some of the most painful of Shogo's life. The move to the Black Lotus' new base of operations was carried out while he was in a tranquilizer-induced sleep (to prevent him from seeing things he shouldn't, he supposed), and he saw almost no one but the trainer. Kyoto Dai was small and lean, and he wore his bleached hair in a strange, spiked style. Shogo, however, had quickly learned to take him seriously. He was fiercely intelligent, and he could do push-ups on his thumbs.

"Just remember," Dai said one morning, "it's already been as bad as it's going to get. At least you've gotten the getting-shot part over with."

"At least when I got shot my body went into shock," Shogo said through gritted teeth as he began his second set of exercises.

"You can complain all you want, Kawada, but I'm onto you. A guy like you isn't going to let any amount of pain stop him from getting around on his own. It's like a cage to you, being dependent on that cane, and the only way to get rid of it is to do what I say, when I say it, how I say it. You know it, and I know it, so quit your bitching." Dai grinned. "I gotta say, I'm really curious to see what they're planning to do with you."

Shogo, who had been balancing on one leg, wobbled precariously as he shot Dai a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

Dai crossed his arms over his narrow chest and snorted. "Oh, come on, you think they'd let a guy with as many skills as you have go without trying to recruit him? Especially surviving the Program twice? We're a group of idealists, yeah, but altruism only gets an organization so far. You've been here for a long time, and you can bet that if you leave, the government's going to find you—and when they do, you'll disappear. No one's going to force you to stay, but only an idiot would leave. Besides," he added, leaning forward, "don't you want to punish those bastards for what they've done to people? To you?"

As a general rule, Shogo didn't like to get involved. He had bent that rule with Shuya and Noriko, but that was very different from signing on with a not-so-secret anti-government movement. When he got involved, people died, some of them innocent people. It was messy, and he was done with it. A system of government like the one they had couldn't last forever. It would crumble someday, and some other power would replace it. Nothing was ever permanent. That was just the way the world worked. "I'm not much of a team player," he said, returning to his exercises. "And I'm tired of killing people. Thanks for helping me, but there's not a whole lot I can do to help you, unless you need a cook, or something."

Dai snorted again, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how important a good cook is. In a gig like this, morale is everything. Anyway, I'm just saying, most of the Program kids who can recover fully want to be Guardians. They want a chance to strike back, save some lives firsthand, and they're the best candidates, because they know what it's like to actually be there in the game. That's why I joined up."

"I had a feeling," Shogo grunted.

"That's right." Dai pointed to himself and said in a voice of mock-pride. "You're looking at the sole survivor of the Program two years before your first one. Black Lotus didn't get to us in time. It was me who found them. I wanted revenge against our dear Dictator. So does the survivor of the Program before mine, Reizo, and from what I hear, so does your friend Mitsuko. What that girl Megumi wants, no one really knows. I'm not sure whether she's more terrified of the government or of Mitsuko."

Shogo had seen both of them on a few occasions, and it hadn't been pretty. He had learned some time after his recovery began that Mitsuko had been the one to slash Megumi's throat. Megumi went into agonized hysterics whenever the two girls were in the same room together, and they had been kept separated as they underwent their respective therapies. Mitsuko, herself, registered no outward emotion whatsoever. Shogo suspected that she had long been teetering on the edge, and the Program had obviously pushed her over that edge. She was as cold as she was beautiful, and she had been barred from the Guardianship for reasons of emotional instability. These days, he saw her now and then doing odd jobs, and she had never said a single word to him. Megumi, deeply traumatized, did no jobs, at all, but haunted different rooms in the building like a ghost.

"I'll stay," he said finally, looking down at Dai. "But I'm not shooting anybody. I know this isn't going to stop at rescuing kids. You guys are going to go after the system."

Dai sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I hope you make good noodles, Kawada."