Warnings: Mentions of violence against protestors
Notes: This is in response to the prompt "round" in the daily prompt challenge I'm following in October 2021.
RIOT CHILD
Chapter 09:
"Round"
While Keiko and Yusuke did their homework at the coffee table (or, more accurately, while Keiko tried and mostly failed to get Yusuke to do his homework), Atsuko snored on the couch with a vodka bottle held loosely on her chest. She'd fallen asleep to the sound of the TV blaring a news report, drifting in and out of her alcohol-hazed stupor without really listening to the anchor's story about a cat up a tree or whatever story he was covering. Atsuko didn't give a shit about cats in trees; she just wanted to drink, and to take a nap, and to pretend like she was a responsible parent for an hour or two so she could sleep well that night when she poured herself into bed.
Atsuko was many things, but in denial of her status as a poor parent wasn't one of them.
A loud pop woke up from her stupor as the news program's coverage switched to something else—unrest in a far-off country, by the sound of things. This was of even less interest to Atsuko than the cat story. Still, her eyes fluttered open at the sound of gunfire just in time to see Keiko flinch and hunch over her homework, eyes glittering above her ever-present mask as they locked onto the TV screen. The tips of rifles and gas canisters reflected in her thick glasses, distorted and bright.
"Damn." Yusuke let out a low whistle while as Atsuko shut her eyes again. "They're really shooting at them, huh?"
Keiko shifted, a rustle of cloth against carpet. "Those are rubber bullets."
"Really?" Interest resonated in Yusuke's voice. "How do you know that?"
A pause. Then: "I just do."
"Well…" Yusuke sat in silence, interest flagging. "I guess rubber is better than real bullets."
"Not really," Keiko said at once. "They call them 'nonlethal rounds,' but rubber bullets can still kill."
Curiosity returned to Yusuke's tone. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. See how they're aiming their firearms?"
"I mean… they're aiming them at the protestors. They're aiming them like regular guns, right?"
"And that's the problem." Grim condemnation flavored Keiko's droning speech like the bitter taste of vodka on Atsuko's tongue. "You're supposed to shoot at the ground and let the rubber ricochet, which lessens the impact, to put it simply. That's what's supposed to make them nonlethal. Firing directly at people defeats the purpose of using rubber rounds. It's still dangerous. You could bleed out if they hit an artery. Or lose a finger." Keiko's voice dropped low, nearly to a whisper. "Maybe even an eye."
Yusuke whistled again. "Seriously, Kobun-kun. How do you know this stuff?"
Keiko didn't answer. The story on the TV changed. Another cat in a tree, or something. Boring. Without a care, Atsuko drifted back into the cloying clutches of sleep—but before the sandman claimed her, she heard Keiko's pencil tap-tap-tapping at the coffee table like the staccato patter of gunfire in a crowd.
The sound of Keiko muttering "1-3-1-2, 1-3-1-2, 1-3-1-2" followed Atsuko into her dreams.
NOTES
I will never forget the stuff I learned about rubber bullets (and the ways the police were misusing them) during 2020.
Big thanks to these fine folks for reviewing last chapter. Really glad y'all're still here: Convoluted Compassion, Kaiya Azure