Author's opening remarks:
Anatomy of a story that gives a nod and a wink to anatomy- As with a majority of my stories, most of this one was done entirely on the fly, meaning I initially had no idea where things might go. Settings, certain words, pictures in my head, events in my own life, animes or movies that I have seen, books or plays that I have read… anything can spark a sentence or phrase that leads to God only knows where, with the freshly chosen sentences and words suggesting or demanding new directions. Wash, rinse, repeat. There is little major editing; but, I do sometimes go backwards or forwards from the heart of the story and tailor things better, make things more coherent, or flesh things out. Epic stories, however, need planning, research, and rough structure; but, where the rubber meets the road, much of the writing is still born from shear spontaneity.
For movie buffs, think of 'The Matrix.' One particular quote, specifically:
"This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill—the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill—you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."
Obviously, most of my stories are Red Pills.
In this tale, the only thing I had at the start was the premise of 'The Trade,' and the key point that Kaname would finally understand that even without the weapons of war, Sousuke is never truly devoid of weapons. Thinking of things for Sousuke to choose in trade, I considered what a teenage girl might have in her bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. That led to one possibility, and that selection provided the trope.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Preface:
Gotta bounce.
It's urban slang, and can be equated to 'need to leave' or ' got to go.'
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The light bulb in the overhead fixture buzzed, flickered, and resumed normal operation.
For a brief moment, the boy… dressed in khaki, hands dotted with grease marks and head sporting a hairdo a nesting squirrel would envy… flashed his gaze about the room, intent to find if anything was threatening or amiss.
"It's just a light bulb, Mister." The young woman… dressed in a charming ensemble, with perfectly coiffed hair and well kept fingernails… sniffed, as if she were the only one in the room clever enough to figure that out. "It's not like some scheming villain would replace a fluor with a bomb or something."
"Incorrect," the boy remarked, sure in his knowledge. "Chechnya. The regional government office in Grozny, the Chechen capital. Russian television showed images of civilians and soldiers, many soaked in blood, stumbling or being carried from the wreckage of the four-story concrete building. A huge crater near the entrance, more than a dozen feet deep, marked the site of the explosions. Russia's Emergencies Ministry put the death toll at forty-six. Another seventy people were reported to have been taken to hospitals, at least twenty of them critically injured." He paused, realizing he had skipped the necessary introduction. "A red mercury bomb had been disguised as a light bulb."
"Grrr-rrr-rrr." Kaname Chidori sounded like a cross between a busy garbage disposal and a badger sow defending her kits. "SOUSUKE…." She made a fist, but with strenuous effort, did not shake it in the mercenary's direction. "This… is… not… Chechnya!" She huffed. "Harumpf! I'm pretty sure that the tube is safe!"
"The facts are merely historic," Sousuke said in a brusque manner. "Bombs do not favor one nation only… and neither do bombers." He strode into the next room and emptied the contents of a large satchel on Kaname's bed. When one gun muzzle left a crescent shaped stain of soot on a pretty embroidered bed spread, he pushed the bag's strap to conceal the dreadful faux pa. "Ironically-" He went back to the living room… returned to the bedroom… and repeated the process with a large freshly creased duffel bag. He had replaced his previous disreputable preceding bag… a trusted companion on many an excursion or infiltration … to please the blue-haired girl, who always insisted that he should pay more attention to his appearance. "-The London Underground, commonly known as… the Tube… is the world's oldest subway system and one of the busiest. A bomb, wrapped in a plastic grocery bag and concealed in a bucket, exploded at the height of the morning rush last Friday. The explosion and panic left twenty-nine people injured, but luckily none were killed. It was the first terrorist attack in Britain at its most vulnerable point… mass transit… since the fifty-two people were killed five years ago. The Islamic State asserted responsibility for the bucket bomb hours later in a message on its Amaq news site that said a 'detachment' of its disciples had carried out the attack… at least the language suggested that there was more than one assailant."
"How do you remember all of those numbers?" Kaname looked incredulous, wondering if Sousuke's inept results in Mathematics class were merely a ruse, a way to get out of work, and a means to keep her expectations low. She frowned. He had almost distracted her again. Sometimes she felt as if she needed a long snorkel to breath when the melancholy misfit piled things on too deep. "Don't confuse matters. Light bulbs." She pointed upwards. "Buckets." She nodded towards her hallway closet, home to a small utility bucket. "Penguin clocks." She tossed her shimmering hair in the direction of her bedside table. "And… " She thought a moment. She had no idea where the next example came from. "My navel. All safe. No need for hand-held devices or bomb sniffing dogs. Nothing to worry about… unless I have a toxic level of lint in my belly button." That ought to shut him up! It was amazing that she actually thought that thought. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me yet again? And again again again? Maybe it's time to see a shrink!
"Naval?" Sousuke pursed his lips, a gesture rarely seen by anyone or anything, his bathroom mirror and shiny reflective boots included. "Safe." He nodded his head. "Your unconscious choice of that one word… and attachment of a feeling of security… must indicate that you are finally feeling grateful for the protection of the SRT and Da Danaan. And, Captain Testarossa too, naturally."
"GAH!" Kanaqme sounded as if she had just taken a healthy swig from a bottle of Castor Oil. "Baka!" She herself didn't know if the 'Baka' was prompted by the usual language error… the unpleasant memories of her last visit to the submersible… or the mention of another Whispered girl's name. "It's N… A… V… E… L," she griped, her leg twitching. A kick would probably hurt her more than him. "Not N…A… V… A… L."
"Perhaps you sprayed on too much perfume." Sousuke sniffed. It was perfume, was it not? Yes. No one had a noxious or explosive gaseous agent that smelled in just such a way. Right? "It may be interrupting the necessary flow of oxygen to your brain." That would be especially bad, given her comorbidity of hypotension. "Naval. Relating to ships or shipping. Or, relating to a navy. Consisting of or involving warships. Whatever appellation, it is definitely spelled 'n-a-v-a-l.'"
"Moron." The dam had burst, again. "Loser!" Kaname felt her temperature rise. She did indeed feel a bit dizzy, now. "Idiot! Jerk!" She walked over to a stack of neatly stacked books… toppled them like a Jenga tower… so that she could easy reach a specific text. She rifled through that book, more energetic than a whirling dervish. After grabbing a highlighter, and following a grand flourish, she marked a word, all the while deciding that Sousuke would buy her a new Dictionary. "Read that, soldier!" He would also reorganize all of those books. Everything was his fault, after all.
"Uhhh-hhh-hhh." Sousuke felt his breath catch in his throat. He felt a sweatdrop form at one temple. "Navel. 'N-a-v-e-l.' A rounded knotty depression in the center of a person's belly caused by the detachment of the umbilical cord after birth; the umbilicus." He closed the book. "Mea culpa. I stand corrected."
"You are anything but correct!" Kaname said, feeling justified and basking in her short-lived glory. "Everybody knows that. The only ones who are not so inclined, simply have not met you yet. Big bozo!" She stood stunned, wondering how she had overlooked the mound of weapons and military paraphernalia overflowing past the edge of her bed. "You are shrewd in your own way, I'll give you that much. But you will not distract me from today's mission!" Crap! Did she just say 'mission?' Had she been infected with the Sagara Virus? There was no known inoculation or antidote for that! Only euthanasia. But, with as hectic as things had gotten the past week, maybe she would prefer the peace of the grave.
"Kaname. I was not-" Sousuke misread his classmate's words, yet again. So may subtleties. Sarcasm. Scoffing. Sneering. So forth and so on. Was that a characteristic of girls? Or of all non-military personnel?
"No!" Kaname held her hand up. Inches from Sousuke's face. "Shhh! Not another word." She didn't realize that she had come very close to triggering an automatic jujitsu move on her bodyguard's part. "You promised." Actually, he had finally acquiesced, after she had hounded him for days, without ever taking an oath. Of course, in the girl's mind, just such a pledge… no, a covenant… was engraved on his soul, emblazoned letters blinking fitfully like the ancient neon sign outside of a shabby motel.
Yes, Kaname realized deep inside, that Sousuke kept her safe, and weapons helped Sousuke do his job. But weapons also put passersby in grave danger… prompted huge repair bills at school and in public establishments… and often drew return fire, like moths to a flickering fuse… no, moths to a flame. She patted a hand against one ear, as if that could eject all military jargon out of the other ear. "So let's do this."
"Affirmative," Sousuke replied, feeling very uneasy. Kaname's safety was his duty, and recently, his private and very personal concern. Weapons were a necessary tool of his trade. And what might happen, if his superiors found out that she was escorting his Whispered charge, unarmed? Guns and knives can be replaced. So can operatives. He did not want to be pulled from this assignment. "But… fair is fair…." At some point in their lengthy verbal tug-of-war, Kaname had agreed to making things a trade, instead of something one-sided and absolute. "This-" He pulled open a drawer in Kaname's oaken dresser. "This, too-" He opened a large jewelry box sitting on tome of the dresser. "I believe this will serve-" He pulled open her bedroom closet, earning a sharp rap on the head when he pulled it off of its old and worn runners. He promptly reset the door. "Please wait-" He walked into the adjacent bathroom, caused a raucous noise, glass upon glass, and returned with his arms cradling a colorful assortment of perfume bottle. "And… let me think-"
"We don't have that long," Kaname said under her breath, annoyed that her personal items were in play. Why had she agreed to that clause?
"I will return-" Sousuke sped off, his feet making no sound as he glided across the thin carpet.
"Just my luck," Kaname sniped. Dualities and dichotomies, they were both a bitch! There were days when she felt angry, almost affronted, when the young commando showed up at school again. And then, there were the times that she tugged at hangnails, and did her best not to weep with her face in a pillow, when she prayed with every fiber in her being that he would return safely from a dangerous and hotly contested battle.
"Here-" Sousuke upended a pilfered laundry basket, spilling wrapped packets of melon bread and other treats on the floor next to the bed. He needed a mound of choices to match that pile of combat gear. "My choices are practical. These items might lead to an unwanted gain in girth." Seeing the look on Kaname's face, he quickly added. "I replaced the celery, carrots, and cucumbers I had originally scrounged… soybeans, sweet potatoes, and seaweed, too. Those may bring a healthier… shine… to… your-" He coughed. "Face."
Kaname instinctively brought a hand to her face, and nearly glanced in the mirror that was barely attached to the wall behind her dresser. Her eyes narrowed. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her complexion. A small fortune spent on cleansers, exfoliators, moisturizers, toners, and eye cream had seen to that.
She opened her mouth to retort, but succeeded in keeping things on course. "I'll start things off. This will need to go." She tossed a well-worn Steyr Taktische Maschinenpistole into an enormous plastic bin. "And anything that goes with it."
"As you wish." Sousuke swallowed hard, thinking of the meaning of a similar phrase in 'The Princess Bride.' "Fifteen… twenty… and thirty round magazines of 9×19mm Parabellum." One toss was errant, and left a mark on the wall. The look he got was the type a hungry cobra might a mouse. Or, a hammer might give a nail. "The suppressor." That toss hit the mark, dead center, metal clanging off metal.
"Y-Your-" Kaname cleared her throat, feeling a bit naked. "Your turn." She would not close her eyes or turn away. She was made of stronger and sterner stuff than that.
"Hmmm." Sousuke looked around the room. "These will do." He picked up a pair of gold Mary Jane pumps and flung them into the bin. "The boys give you strange looks when you wear those. You need less attention, not more." He blinked. That was a strategic move in its entirety, right?. There was no way that he might feel any small bite of the Jealousy Bug.
"But I really-" Kaname bit her tongue. Tit for tat. She might have lost that first exchange; but, it was about the war, not the battle. Strategy, not tactics. Besides, she could always put on some old clothes that she was going to give to the needy, and dive into the dumpster behind her apartment building. That wouldn't be cheating. Unless she got caught! Better make sure she dumped her expatriated things in a dumpster behind a different building, one a sleuthy military maniac would not check. The guns and ammo she would drop into a deep area in Tokyo Bay.
Hmmm. The class rep was somewhat puzzled. Why was she was still smiling? It couldn't be the fact that Sousuke had noticed the way that she looked in attractive footwear, naturally. "Fine," she sighed.
"WAIT!" Sousuke shouted when Kaname reached for another gun.
"You said that you would do this!" Kaname didn't want to be disappointed by the boy, again. Not this week. Not after so many other mishaps and misadventures on Monday… Tuesday… Wednesday… Thursday… and Friday. She really wished that she could undo Friday. She shuddered.
"The safety is off," Sousuke offered as an explanation. "And the gun is loaded." He always needed at least one weapon ready to go, just in case. He took the weapon… made it safe… and then flipped it over his shoulder, so he didn't have to see the Heckler & Koch MP5 disappear forever.
"Which clips?" Kaname wanted to throw away the ammunition herself. It was a visceral need. And, that insensitive clod had been the one to deep six her shoes. Payback was Hell. He should know that by now. If his brain didn't, his bruises certainly would.
"That… that… and that." Sousuke pointed at three 9x19mm Parabellum clips. He wondered why Kaname was chuckling. She wasn't a masochist, as some girls in the class suggested, was she? She stood to lose an item next. "And so… this-" He chose a cleanly designed and clear bottle of Sakura by Miya Shinma, a scribbled cherry blossom on its white label.
"But that's twenty-one thousand yen!" Kaname gasped.
"Even civilian clones of the HK fetch a price greater than one thousand US dollars," Sousuke rebutted, cost conscious himself. A number of the weapons on the bed had been paid for from his own pocket. He felt a bit conflicted. Sure, he was willing to give up as many weapons as Kaname might demand, assuming she would leave him a pistol at the very least. If not, one fact stood timely and true. At no cost to himself, he could be resupplied after a single phone call. No, the Lt. Commander might dock it from his pay. He would eventually take the risk of sneaking guns into school and on their walks to and fro. But…as a gift of sorts to Kaname… he would entirely downside his arsenal for a brief and nervous period of time.
"Fine," Kaname said, cross. "That means I get to choose two this time." She changed the rules as was her usual wont and scanned the pile. "You only get one!" She sighed. So many weapons and so little time. Okay. Let's change things up a bit. A shotgun. "Bye bye!" She threw away a banged-up Remington Model 870. "Oh. You, too." She tossed away a rather nasty looking anti-armor blade with an imprint of the winged dagger of the British SAS. "So… small things only this time…" Kaname followed Sousuke's gaze towards her jewel box. "No. Strike that. Inexpensive things."
"How much does this cost," Sousuke asked, using another dagger to lift a frilly brassiere from Kaname's underwear drawer, as if he were lifting a rattlesnake away from his campsite.
"SOUSUKE!" Kaname lunged, removed the bra from the clutches of the defiling knife. And then in a fit of pique, threw it away herself. She then had a wicked thought and quickly exorcised it. Where had that come from?! Wait. Heh heh heh. Why not. "You perv. I see your evil plan. You just want me to go around braless." She waited for the fatal thrust. "Bouncing this way and that…."
"…" Sousuke opened his mouth and said nothing. The dagger fell from his weak grasp. He was very fortunate to be wearing steel-toes boots.
"Speaking of bouncing," Kaname said, arching her back. She was not a tramp, and that was by no means an enticement or invitation. She had the power. That felt uplifting. "Let's get rid of that ugly thing!" She grunted and hefted the heavy weapon over to the bin and let go. "See you later, Betty."
Sousuke didn't say anything. He was shocked that Kaname recalled anything from his lunchtime discourse on mines. The device was not actually a German World War Two S-mine… Schrapnellmine… known as the 'Bouncing Betty' on the Western Front and 'frog-mine' on the Eastern Front. That nasty weapon was the best-known version of a class of mines known as bounding mines. When triggered, those mines are launched into the air and then detonated at about one meter from the ground. The explosion projects a lethal spray of shrapnel in all directions, intended for unshielded infantry. In actuality, the explosive ordinance was a Yugoslavian PROM-1, a loose derivative of the S -mine, widely used during the Croatian War of Independence by both sides. Sousuke had picked it up during a mission to Eritrea.
"So, what bounces better-" Kaname began impishly, knowing that Sousuke would choose the weapon of course. Maybe she could even catch her stiff and proper protector blushing. That would be a major coup. "Betty or me." She could get away with her flirting. There was no one here to handcuff her to a bedrail, the way that someone had done to an annoying and overly bold platinum-haired girl.
"I would have to say you-" That answer slipped out immediately and honestly. Sousuke felt as if someone poured molten lead over his body. "I-… that-… I mean-…." He trembled ever so slightly. Even the most observant person would miss that tremor. Kaname caught it, and her eyes grew slightly large.
"Th-" Kaname swallowed when she couldn't cough. She tossed her hair and looked away from her companion, as if the very sight of him might turn her into a pillar of salt. "Thank you, Sousuke." She wanted to swiftly turn things into a joke; but, she couldn't find the words. "Umm." The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable bit. "Your turn." The silence stretched on. "Wellll-lll-ll-l." Kaname glared at Sousuke.
"I apologize," Sousuke said. For some reason, he thought of Kaname's word-play as a frontal assault, so to speak. A subtle attack, that had left him feeling intrigued and frantic at the same time. No! His assignment would not permit him to be intrigued. And, of course, a seasoned combat veteran must not be frantic, frightened, or flummoxed. His thoughts turned to Sun Tzu. Didn't they always? There routinely was one quotation or another that could help him. "Thus we may know that there are five essentials for victory," he whispered. "One. He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight. Two. He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces…." The word 'handling' almost caused his higher thought processes to short out. "Next. Three. He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks. Four. He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared. Five. He will win who has military capacity and is not interfered with by the sovereign." He stood firm. Number Four would suffice. He had just fallen victim to it, himself. This time, he would use it to his advantage. What is good for the goose is good for the gander.
"While we are young…." Kaname demanded, wondering if the loss of weapons might send her companion over the edge. Why had he been mumbling like that?
"Again, I am sorry." Sousuke steeled his courage. This kind of thing was like guerilla warfare in the never-ending contest between boys and girls. In this field of battle, he was a greenhorn, a noob. "I was waiting. I was hoping you might-" He forced the word out. "Jiggle." He had heard Kurz say that to a shapely cook at Merida base. He had learned something during his observation. Red hand-shaped marks do arise on slapped faces. It was not merely a myth propagated by anime and manga.
"…" It was Kaname's turn to run silent and run deep. She couldn't get a breath in or out. An imaginary angel on one should said 'Sweet." Yes. He had noticed her. And found her appealing. An imaginary devil appeared and kicked the angel to the curb. "Dead meat!" It growled. Nuff said. "Youuuuu…" Like a crazed bull seeing red, Kaname rushed forward, put her hands on Sousuke's chest, and pushed him like a huge heap of snow moved along by a shovel truck.
WHAM!
Sousuke landed hard in the refuse bin. He grimaced, when the mine dug into his back, just to the left of his spine. A normal man might stay silent now. But, he was a Specialist. And he might have been infected by the Weber virus. "What? No jiggle?" Just how far out of character was he going to go? He had no chance to feel scandalized, or bask in a macho moment. Kaname's response was prompt and non-verbal.
BAM BAM BAM BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM (pause) BAMMM!
To the young mercenary, it seemed like the world was raining steel. He was struck by an AKM assault rifle and bundled boxes of 7.62 × 39mm Soviet intermediate cartridges. A Cina Lake grenade launcher soon followed. Then an HK P11 underwater pistol borrowed from Mao. A Knight's Armament Revolver Rifle won in a bet from Kurz. A trio of M18 Claymores bartered from a toothless old woman in Bosnia, at the cost of a purchased goose and a pilfered chicken. A Fabrique Nationale FN P90. A Glock 26. A Norinco QBB-9r and a large woolen sack of 5.8 x 42mm cartridges. A Tactical Key Loader. And just when the stunned soldier took his hands away from his head, a tardy Royal Ordinance ARWEN 37 anti-riot weapon added to his collection of welts.
"Hmmmpfff!" Kaname put her hands on his hips.
Sousuke found himself seeing stars. Disoriented, he fortunately missed the chance to report that Kaname had indeed bounced. With good longitude and latitude at first, followed by small aftershocks. He rocked the bin from side to side until he got it to tip over. Grimacing, he rolled out… lay flat on his back for a few moments… and then got himself to his feet. "I counted eight-" Sousuke said. "-I think." His mind was foggy, but he was not going to do a recount. Eight is enough.
"Oh No," Kaname said, hands up. "That all counts as one. O-N-E. Wait. No. That was all a freebie!" She frowned. "After all, you…." She was not going to repeat a thing! And no, it was by no means her fault in any which way. It never was!
"I disagree," Sousuke said sternly. "But… you taught me the concept of compromise in personal relationships." He was not deterred by seeing Kaname mouth 'what personal relationship?' "So… I will only take four."
"But… but…." Kaname could only watch as Sousuke began prowling the room, trying to find something equivalent. He had really liked that ARWEN. "I think maybe it's time to end the game." She could stop while she was ahead. Her home, her jurisdiction. Then again, she was Kaname Chidori. Compared to the things she had suffered in Junior High... and the frightening turn events that followed the kidnapping of her high school class by Gauron... this was a walk in the park. She had set out with a goal in mind, and refused to backpedal. All weapons must go! "No. Forget that I said that. Fine. Four. Feel free." She tossed her hair again. "Freak."
"First," Sousuke said. He moved his hand towards the iconic Bonta-kun doll, but paused. No. Not that one. He felt a kinship with that stuffed toy, having used his Bonta-kun AS on numerous occasions. "The decorative pillow." It was white and pink with hearts. It had been a gift from a transfer student from Romania. It was a goner. "Second." He picked up a shoe rack holding four pairs of causal shoes.
"But that's more than-" Kaname stopped, holding back from adding 'more than one thing.' Sousuke bowed before her, but not in contrition.
"Feel my scalp." He gasped momentarily when Kaname ran her hands over a large number of lumps and bumps. There were a lot more than just one boo boo. When the girl sheepishly nodded her head, he continued. "Third." He chose a lovely sky blue sundress. Kaname had been wearing that outfit on the day she had been kidnapped by a crazed religious cult. As a result, Sousuke felt an unprofessional grudge against it. "And forth." He reached down into the jewelry box and lifted out a fine gold chain. It ran through a lovely diamond ring.
""NO! YOU CAN'T!" Kaname grabbed onto Sousuke's arm, and was dragged across her bedroom carpet, her stocking feet incapable of grab sufficient purchase. "THAT MEANS TOO MUCH!" Sousuke kept walking, more robot than man at that moment. Some forms of combat and conflict were contests. Rules were rules. It was unprofessional and discourteous to deviate from those mandates. "Please." That last word was barely audible.
Sousuke stopped. He turned to look at Kaname.
"It was my mother's wedding ring," Kaname said, tears in her eyes. She wiped the water away and squared her shoulders. "It had been my father's mother's ring before that."
"I see." Sousuke met Kaname's gaze. "I cannot put this back, now."
Kaname closed her eyes and bit her lip. She wanted to shout. She would shout, waking the dead, if that was what it would take. Mouth half open, she watched as Sousuke walked away from the jewelry box, but also away from the disposal bin. He strode over to the bed… opened a trusty old gun-cleaning kit… and removed a costly micro-fiber cloth. He polished the chain… breathed on the gemstones… and gave a lustrous shine to the ring as well. Finished, he walked over, opened Kaname's clenched hand, and dropped the chain within. He closed the hand again.
"Thank you, Sousuke." Kaname sniffled. That had been a nice touch, the buffing. Yes, she now had skin oil on it; but, she could polish again herself, later. "Hey-" Just what was that military misfit doing now?
Sousuke folded the corners of Kaname's bedspread over the pile of weapons and accessories, and pulled them towards one another. He schlepped the heavy load over to the bin, and released two of the cotton corners. The weapons spilled out, barely fitting within the engorged container. "You need give up nothing else," Sousuke said, stoically.
Kaname didn't know what she should feel at that moment. She had won, big time. Yet, there was a feeling of sorrow in her heart, swiftly replaced by a feeling of relief. Also, an affirmation. So many swirling thoughts and surging emotions.
"I will call someone to dispose of the weapons appropriately," Sousuke said, his voice flat. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He was not a parent. Those weapons were not his children. Just the same, he felt as if he had just lost a terrible and tortuous custody battle. No. It was worse than that. It felt as if he were the father of a kidnapped child, and he was at his wits end, waiting for his tormentors to call with their ransom demand.
"And I will treat you to dinner." Kaname could afford to be magnanimous. She felt somewhat sad herself, looking at Sousuke, but this was all for the better, wasn't it? She paused, her eyebrows rising. She felt a sudden swell of suspicion. "Spread'em, Mister." She patted Sousuke down, stopping just short of performing a cavity search. No hidden Derringers, dart guns, daggers, or detonators. No garrottes under the collar. No syringes, crushable compounds, or Chloroform. No attack dog whistles or illegal pheromones. Hmmmm. There might be something tucked behind that bulge in his trousers. She was not about to pat that down! She would just have to trust to Fate.
Kaname grabbed her purse and housekeys, and shepherded Sousuke out of the apartment. It was a fine sunny day, and a brisk walk to her favorite new café would do wonders for their appetites. She tried to engage Sousuke in small talk with little success. At first she felt that he was too somber, a poor sport, a man mourning his small metal friends. But, she soon came to the conclusion that he was no more quiet than usual. She simply wanted to hear him speak, for once. She not only encouraged a chatty transformation, she nearly demanded it.
Some time later, the pair sat in a pair of pleasant folding chairs, lounging beneath a large colorful awning, arms resting on a stylish pietra dura style table they had been seated at. The location gave Sousuke a good view of the surroundings. Kaname could at least let him have that much.
Frosty mugs of fruit drinks arrived, followed by elaborate and elephantine parfaits, each a rhapsody of colors and flavors, a perfect pairing following the healthy salads and seafood they had eaten for dinner. Kaname practically inhaled her desert, stopping numerous times to pray for the blissful banishment of Brain Freeze. Sousuke took small slow sips, and even slower spoonfulls. There was a distant look in his eyes. It was not sorrow. It was surveillance.
The happenstance was a healthy dose of serendipity, of course. Serendipity layered with coincidence and drizzled with misfortune, with a big cherry of tragedy on top. Three dark SUVs squealed to a sudden stop. Darkly dressed and daring bandits exited the gleaming vehicles with profession precision, automatic weapons in hand and unlit sticks of dynamite in their waistbands. Ski masks hid their faces. Tattoos at their wrists would tell an experienced soldier or intelligence officer that the intruders were from Solntsevskaya Bratva, a dangerous offshoot of the Russian Mafia.
Based in the Solntsevo District of Moscow, the gang recruited local unemployed, aggressive young men in Tokyo as foot soldiers. Those newbies were accompanied today by members of the Doktor's Bratvavor subdivision of the Solntsevskaya, a collection of men independently operated and headed by the notorious Doktor Spatzhat, but acting in alliance with the main gang today. Russian natives, they carried a plethora of effective weapons: tasers, cattle prods, stun guns, bolos, chain whips, and edged weapons galore. A good many of them felt that pistols were for pussies.
"All we want is the money," a burly thug called out. "We don't need no heroes."
"But, we could use a few hostages," another malodorous brute cackled. "Pretty ones. Zhenshchina udovol'stviya angliyskiy. Hah hah hah hah."
When the brigand with bad BO and his more pleasantly hygienic cronies scanned the women at the establishment, their eyes naturally gravitated to the cool beauty with the exotic blue hair. "That one!"
"Snachala ya," an older man with a slight paunch said, licking his lips. Of the customers, only Sousuke knew that meant 'me first.'
"Ya luchshiy," a dapper and somewhat dainty gangster stated. 'Me the best.'
"I-" Kaname looked at Sousuke. At that very instant, she felt very foolish. Sousuke was unarmed. She had even forced him to leave all manner of tracking and communication devices at the apartment. She instinctively knew that if she struggled or tried to escape, her captors would show no mercy. They might gleefully enjoy their lascivious urges if provoked, if they didn't plan to do her have their way with her without provocation. She would be lucky if they dumped her out somewhere secluded, sexually soiled but still alive. And, what about Sousuke? He wouldn't sit idly by. Without weapons, would he perish before she did?
Kaname should have known better.
She really should have.
Suddenly worried about how her father or sister might receive the tragic news of her passing, she was a bit slow on the uptake.
She never saw Sousuke stand and move in one fluid motion. It wasn't until the second unconscious body landed on the awning above her head… causing that fabric and aluminum tubing to collapse, the falling bodies nearly flattening her… that her vision gained focus and she caught bits and pieces of the blur around her.
Large men, turning black and blue, but mostly red with blood, went crashing through restaurant windows. Purloined weapons left evil men and the occasional villainous women holding their innards in their arms, looking for missing digits at the roadside, or running for cover, numerous bullet holes ventilating their clothing. Cars exploded. Flaming tires rolled down the road. A smoldering toupee sat atop a bent automobile aerial.
Someone obviously had an artificial leg. It sat now, mangled and misshapen, in the back seat of a patron's double-parked roadster. There was a huge tear in the convertible's roof. But the owner of that plastic limb fared better than one of his companions. One man had a long staff weapon shoved far up his rectum, making him look like a human popsicle or lollipop. The noise that he made was indescribable.
"Well, I guess I should have expected." Kaname stood serenely, strangely enough. She didn't duck. She didn't cover. She didn't even cower. She simply ran a finger around the top of her parfait glass, gathered up a small sample of the sweet confection, and licked it from her tongue. Only then did she push the table over and crouch down behind it. Yes, she was acting a bit too blasé. It wasn't as if she was perfectly safe. It simply felt that way for a moment. Bodies flew through the air, seemingly in slow motion, as if everything was choreographed, a military version of a Bolshoi ballet. "I should have seen it coming a mile away." Sousuke didn't have to carry his own weapons. He could always borrow someone else's.
When all the knives were thrown, and all the guns spent, Sousuke moved onto Plan B. And Plan C, Plan D, and Plan E. A broken wine bottle. A shish kebab skewer. A large paving stone. The cord from a flagpole tied to a heavy brass spittoon. Chef's knives. An impromptu flamethrower crafted on the spot from a Propane hose, tubing from a cappuccino machine, and a powerful air pump usually used to inflate the bistro's brightly lit mascot.
One thing after another.
"I was so stupid," Kaname admitted. "Dumb dumb dumb-" She took a long drink from the juice glass that she had carried with her. "Dumber than dumb."
Sousuke didn't have to bring or borrow weapons. To that boy, everything WAS a weapon!
"Really really stupid," Kaname admitted again. Sousuke had run out of handy items. But that hardly put an end to things. Yes. She certainly should have known better. She had gotten lost in Dreamland, where hopes spring eternal. And, of course, she wanted control, in a world that seemed to have none to offer. "I hope we don't have to pay for all this." Mithril's Finance Department had already paid many clandestine tabs, thanks to a certain Sergeant. They had recently assigned a clerk exclusively to his 'accidents.'
The one great truth that Kaname realized, was that while Sousuke was a maestro with weapons, and a true artist when it came to armed mayhem and mash-ups, he didn't necessarily need his deadly toys.
Sousuke himself was the greatest weapon of all.
"I lose," Kaname Whispered. But, if she had gotten the sharp end of the stick, why was she smiling? At that moment, her head might be saying 'I lose,' but her heart was thinking 'but maybe I've won after all.' No. She never felt that. Not for a fleeting instance!
Later, when the JSDF arrived to finish off the gangsters and incognito Mithril forces rousted from the nearest safe house joined the clean-up, Sousuke and Kaname managed to leave unseen before the authorities had asked all of their questions. By chance, there had been no camera crews on the road or airborne during the fracas. So the two of them would not be on the news. That would make the Intelligence Department at Mithril happy. But, happenstance was not on their side. Two girls from their class had been there, so the story would be all over school by lunchtime Monday.
On the walk home, Kaname kept stopping Sousuke every ten or twenty steps or so, to make certain he truly wasn't seriously injured… and to be quite sure that he had not pilfered a weapon or two. Sweet and Sour. Sugar and Spice. That was Kaname Chidori, of course.
As they passed by a toy store display window, am uncharacteristic thought crossed Kaname mind. At the front of the window, in all their nostalgic glory, were a number of Modelguns, Japanese replica guns, which are usually made of zinc alloys or plastic materials. They are designed to highly replicate the physical appearance in full scale of the real gun counterpart. The better ones are made to highly replicate the internal mechanisms so that they are able to strip-down exactly and imitate closely the functionalities of the real counterparts. They operate exactly like a cap gun, using a small plastic percussion cap to produce gunfire sound, spark, and blowback operation, but strictly not able to shoot any projectiles.
"I think I will let you reclaim one weapon as a reward."
"A reward, Kaname?" Sousuke followed the girl's gaze, and noticed the modelguns.
"Yes," Kaname said. "The bistro building is still standing. And no one died." She wasn't actually certain about the latter claim.
"So," Sousuke pointed. "You'll purchase me one of those." Souuske felt certain that he had her pegged. It was in effect, a toy gun. Making him little more than a tin soldier.
"Nope," Kaname said, as if talking to a moron. "If some creep from Amalgam shows up, what good will one of those do. Sheesh, Sousuke. Do you want me to buy you a pair of footie pajamas too? Maybe a nice blankie? Big baby!"
"What then?" Sousuke cocked his head and appraised Kaname's cheerful face.
"Because Kaname Chidori is generous beyond belief-" Kaname laughed that awkward and slightly frightening laugh of hers. "Ah hah hah hah hah hah!" She held one finger up, and then shook it from side to side. "She will let you reclaim one weapon… one, Mister… from the waste bin." But, of course, there was always a catch. "And I will judge you on your choice."
"I see," Sousuke replied. He knew what the girl meant. The lower the boom the higher grade. The less deader, the better. The less damage, the more connubial bliss. Without the connubial, of course. Whatever that was. "I have decided."
Kaname couldn't help herself. She was curious what Sousuke had chosen. She felt that pins and needles tingling.
"The ARWEN 37 is a less-lethal launcher," Sousuke claimed, when they eventually made their way back to Kaname's digs. He held up a strange weapon that reminded Kaname of a stripped down grenade launcher, with a rotary magazine, a tubular barrel, and an extendable butt stock. "Here." He tossed it to his classmate, surprised that she bobbled it, having never seen her mishandle a fly ball in gym class.
"…" The smile on Kaname's face morphed into a frown.
"As you can see-" Sousuke said, taking the weapon back with a contested tug. He knew that Kaname didn't want to keep cradling the device… she had wanted to throw it at him. "-The ARWEN 37 weapon is light: three point one one kilograms unloaded or three point eight three kilograms fully loaded with AR-1 baton rounds; finished in matt black; and, because of its design, is very safe. It is very easy to use, being suitable for right or left-handed operators of any height or... ...build." He coughed, making a point not to glance at Kaname's blouse. "Exposed parts-" He coughed again. "-Are made of anodized aluminum alloy and plastics, which are unaffected by damp environments; where steel parts are necessary, they are in shielded positions where they can be kept lubricated and protected from rust. Routine stripping-"He didn't cough that time. "-Cleaning, lubrication and reassembly are easily done with the simple tools, brushes and cloths. It fires 37 mm less-lethal rounds… a foam, wooden, or tear gas payload… designed for riot control. It has a five-round rotary drum magazine. 'ARWEN' is an acronym for 'Anti Riot Weapon Enfield'."
"Fine," Kaname said. "Now-" She was interrupted. No. Point in fact. She had failed to interrupt a garrulous Sousuke. Want him to talk about the weather, a school assignment, his feelings, or his past? Good luck! It would be easier getting something from a clam or a crustacean! But once he got started talking military stuff, he could ramble on until the cows came home.
"It was designed in 1977 by the British Royal Small Arms Factory Enfield-" Sousuke added, "-Then part of the Royal Ordnance Factories. It came out of a British Military request for a multi-shot riot control weapon to replace the single-shot Federal Riot Gun. Three prototypes were designed and tested: one semi-automatic, one rotary-drum, and one pump-action. At the end of testing the rotary-drum model was put into production. The case has a rebated rim, so although the projectiles are comparable with other 37 mm riot control weapons, the loaded rounds are quite different. By that I mean-"
"Alright already!" Kaname said a little too loudly. "I approve." She did her signature hair toss. "And I hope that this will be enough to keep you happy."
"Negative," Sousuke admitted. His bossy companion had gotten the better of him, in a way. Mentally armed, he would return salvo. Once again he would channel a certain sniper.
"But-" Kaname made a face. "You said that you would be happy with one gun. You're stuck with that one, soldier!" She had that feisty sound to her voice yet again.
"The weapon is fine, Kaname." Sousuke said, feeling a bit belligerent himself. Kaname had seemed a bit too smug for his liking.
"Huh?" Kaname made a quizzical face. "Then what?"
"I was hoping for more," Sousuke said serenely, a bit on edge nonetheless. "Seeing how I saved your life-" He paused for effect, something else that he had learned by watching Kurz. "-Yet again." He let that sink like a depth charge. He flexed his limbs, and rolled his head around on his neck. He pulled one knee to his chest and then another. He was feeling rather tight after that rather animated skirmish. He could use a good run about now.
"And-" Kaname felt a sinking sensation, quite certain that she shouldn't ask.
"I'll need your educated opinion," Sousuke remarked, walking over to Kaname's exit door. He opened it, and made certain that there was no one in the hallway and that there was nothing blocking the way. "What do you think… should I ask for a jiggle… or a bounce…" He walked out the door. "Or maybe a nice… eh hem... wiggle."
"What?" Kaname blurted out incredulously. That tired trope, again?! Cliched and more than just a little personal!
Sousuke began power walking, covering ground quickly.
Kaname clenched everything that could be clenched, grinding her teeth in audible fashion. Sousuke's actions had been wrong in so many ways. The world seemed wildly out of balance. There was no place for a hipster Sousuke Sagara. If his newfound nerve was akin to pencil markings on paper, it was her job to be the pencil eraser. Or White Out. Even a blowtorch if necessary.
She was somewhat tired. She felt a tad bloated, having eaten too much. And, she still felt a bit off kilter having suffered through another armed melee. She could have simply let Sousuke walk off, and given him a wicked pinch in the next Home Room.
But, did she?
"That's it!" Kaname began walking, a magnet drawn to steel. No, more like a cat following moving prey. The door slammed behind her, hard enough to knock one of her framed pictures off of the living room wall.
Sousuke broke into a steady jog. Reaching the nearest stairwell, he began sliding down the bannisters, jumping to the landing below whenever he ran out of rail. He politely apologized when speeding past patrons and employees in the building's lobby area.
"I am going to wash your mouth out with soap-" Kaname huffed. "-And a toilet brush. A dirty one. From school." Kaname bypassed jogging. She promptly began sprinting. She ran even faster when she overhear Sousuke's voice. It was faint, but she could make it out.
"Da Danaan, this is Urzu 7 calling," Sousuke said. "I request immediate emergency pickup." There was a pause. "Yes. Most certainly. My life is in danger."
Kaname shouted "You cheater," causing a wizened old woman to drop her groceries, just before she reached the safely of her apartment. She gave her equally shrunken husband a gimlet eye.
Sousuke Sagara was built for endurance. Kaname Chidori was built for speed. There would be time before a clandestine vehicle could drive up and toss the young soldier into the rear seat, or a cloaked copter could descend and whisk him away to safety.
Who would prove the victor in this little spat?
The world might very well have opportunity to find out what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Or when an unstoppable force threatens two removable objects, as one Chinese-American Sergeant Major might add.
"Sooner or later, jerk." Kaname felt the anger ebbing away. This wasn't about embarrassed rage or righteous fury anymore. This was about winning or losing. Hell, it might even be fun. But, she certainly wouldn't let her target know that. "Time is on my side."
Sousuke had heard those last words. Once again, he found the absolute worst words to say by accident. When he thought about the benefit of having a clandestine organization backing him, he said "But Tessa is on my side." He was still drastically bad at reading the room. But he was quite adept at throwing gasoline onto a fire.
"OOOOO-OOOO-OOO-OO-OH." Heart bumping harder. Legs churning faster. The blue-haired girl was suddenly a human heat seeking missile.
Business as usual in the world of two teens.
THE END
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Author's note:
Sure.
I know that this is 'Full Metal Panic', not a Gainax show like 'Otaku no Video.' We're also not talking 'Baywatch' here.
Still… it is a fanfic… so I took some liberties.