1. About Square
"Excel Semp—!"
Hyatt's happy exclamation was cut off by a yell of Excel punch!—then a fist slammed into her innocently smiling face, and her body flew to smash like a mannequin against the wall. The woman in the doorway stood, rubbing her knuckles, looking blankly down at her handiwork.
Hyatt's eyes fluttered open. She still smiled, although blood had begun to trickle from her mouth.
"Excel…sempai," she whispered. "It' so…good to see you. Please…do come in."
Her head was swimming, and she wondered if it could really be her Senior in the doorway. She had last seen Excel-sempai slowly disappearing under the desert sands, strung out by fatigue and hunger, splashed with her own blood; stopped, ruined, dead. That sight, glimpsed only briefly from a window of the moving fortress, had cut to the center of Hyatt's mild soul, moving her as few things could. It wasn't like Excel to bleed. She, Hyatt, was fragile, but Excel had been indestructible, full of violent good health. Then, too, she had doubted if it were really her Senior she was seeing, a sorry corpse slipping away under whirling sand. The Excel she saw now with her hazy vision was the Excel she remembered, blazingly alive, a human rocket—then Excel-sempai was straddling her, screaming in her ear: "Alright, where is he? Where is he?"
Hyatt coughed. More blood gushed from her smiling mouth, and her eyes slid shut.
A large drop of sweat formed on Excel's forehead. She knelt for a moment, gripping Hyatt's motionless body by the neck, and sighed. I should've remembered. Out loud, she whined: "Hatchan!—Hey, what's the big idea! You can't just drop dead. C'mo-on, at least tell me where he is, huh? Or gimme a hint?"
Hyatt didn't stir, and blood stained the neck of her white dress. "Ne, Hatchan, come back to life so I can kill you already!" She pumped on Hyatt's chest, which only caused more blood to spurt from her mouth; and at that moment the door swung open. Excel twisted around. A young girl, with her mother's rich dark hair, stood in the doorway with a look of dull astonishment, the picture of innocence. Excel grinned meekly. Excel Excel Watanabe, four years old, waited silently for an explanation.
"Y'see…" said Excel, and stood up quickly. She stepped in front of Hyatt's body, but the larger part of it was still in plain view.
Think, tiny brain. There's a way to explain to the little munchkin why Excel is standing over the blood-stained corpse of her mother, isn't there? A menu began to form in her mind.
1) "Your mother is sleeping."
2) "She was like this when I got here."
3) "Hey, look over there!"
Then, finally:
4) (Purge every witnesses!)
The fourth option seemed the most attractive. As she prepared to strike, though, analyzing the target's weak points, Excel's eyes met Excel Watanabe's eyes. She felt the shock of a memory. Pale blues eyes – looking meekly upward – helpless – something terrible about to happen. She hesitated.
"What's wrong with mommy?" said Excel Watanabe, tonelessly.
"Y'see," Excel said, scratching the back of her neck, "the thing is – I'm an old friend of mommy's, and – well, the thing is, I kind of killed her? I mean your mommy's sleeping! That's what I said, right? Sleeping.—Hey, look over there!"
Excel Watanabe did not look, and Excel, ready to slip away, froze with one foot up in the air. She sighed, and opened her hands.
"Okay, I guess I did kill your mom. But it was kind of an accident. But I was gonna do it anyway. But she had it coming. But I guess, well, I feel kinda bad about this, but…"
"Why did you kill my mommy?"
"I, uh, well you see, I didn't mean—"
"Why did you kill my mommy? I'll be all alone. Daddy's gonna be all alone. Daddy's gonna cry."
"See, well, I kinda didn't think—"
Excel Watanabe grinned. "Just kiddin'! Don' worry, mommy does that all the time. Just give her a couple minutes, and she'll wake right up, 'kay?"
Then, grinning proudly, she marched past Excel into the kitchen. A moment later Excel heard her yelling: "Hey! Where's my snack!"
Hyatt stirred, groaned, then muttered: "Sorry, sweetie…I'll get it right away…"
"Hatchan," Excel said crossly.
"Ah! Excel-sempai."
"Don't Excel-sempai me! You and I have unfinished business!"
"Unfinished…business?" Still dazed, Hyatt rubbed her head, and tried to dab at the blood quickly drying around her mouth. "Sempai?"
"I'm not your Sempai! I'm here to get revenge for the horrible, horrible thing he did to me, and that you didn't stop, so there, and nothing's gonna stop me so you'd better tell where he is right now so I can kill you! I mean for good! Not like I did just now. And – agh." She held her head. "I'm confused."
"Sempai…" Hyatt gently touched her shoulder.
"Don't give me any of that! Don't think I'll go easy on you just cause…cause…"
Excel leaned on the wall. There was a moment of silence. Hyatt stood with her hands clasped, looking over her Senior.
Four years, and whatever trials she had undergone in the meantime, had done little to change Excel. Her broad, open face was the same, and the small sharp tooth that sometimes protruded over her lower lip. She wore a leather jacket, though, and jeans; and to Hyatt she now looked older. The bare arms and legs of her familiar costume had been girlish, although there had been nothing girlish about the body they exposed. Now, sensibly long-sleeved in a cool Japanese March, Excel had lost some innocent quality. The same could be said for Hyatt. Her fanciful costume had been replaced by a simple white dress.
The shrill complaint came from the kitchen: "Mommy!"
"I should fix her a snack," Hyatt explained, meekly bowing her head. After a moment she added: "I could fix you some tea, Sempai, if you would like."
Excel stared at her lowered head, and didn't answer.
"You must be thirsty after cycling all the way up that hill. You shouldn't push yourself too hard."
"Alright," Excel finally whispered. "You win."
She followed Hyatt silently into the kitchen, hands in her pockets, sticking her chin out at the trappings of domesticity. It was just like Hatchan to have such a pleasant house; it made her ill. But if Hatchan had a kid, that meant she must have—yuck, no way! Did she actually marry that loser who was always hanging around her?—what did it matter, though, if she was going to have her revenge on her and kill her for good. Just as soon as she'd had her tea. Because she was, now that Hatchan mentioned it, terribly thirsty.
Excel Watanabe waited truculently by the half-chopped cucumber on the cutting board; and as she and Excel stood by, Hyatt spread the cucumber slices over a bowl of rice and poured a glass of lemonade.
"Thank you, mommy!"
"Now E.E., please go take your snack into the living room and watch some television. Mommy and her friend are going to talk."
"Okay! Bye, Mommy. Bye, Mommy's friend."
"She is pretty cute," Excel said, as they watched the girl leave; then she shook her head violently. "But I don't care about that kind of thing."
"She's a very nice girl," said Hyatt. "I love her very much. And I love her father."
"Yeah, well, peachy for you. While you were having such a great time, some of us were…" She trailed off, slumped over on the counter.
"Yes, Sempai," Hyatt said brightly, beginning to fix the tea. "Where have you been all this time? I was very worried, even though Lord Ilpalazzo told me—"
"Don't—mention that name to me, ever. Or at least don't call him Lord."
"I never knew Excel-sempai to say anything like that! I thought Excel-sempai was wholly devoted to Lord Ilpalazzo, and his cause."
Excel sputtered. "Yeah!—Well, that was before—"
"I realize," Hyatt went on imperturbably, "that Lord Ilpalazzo treated Excel badly. I was very surprised. Hyatt never thought he would be capable of such a thing. But Lord Ilpalazzo—" she set the tea to boil, "is still Lord Ilpalazzo. Even if Hyatt herself no longer serves him."
Excel was mute. She lacked the words to express her anger, or her contempt for – him. It wasn't something she could afford to think about. There were so many things she had to think about – how to find him, how to thwart his defenses, how best to wreak her revenge once he was helpless in front of her – without having to question, in the first place, why it was necessary. She knew the powers of her brain were limited. She had to save it for the important stuff. Besides, what did Hatchan know about anything? Excel had taught her everything she knew. Excel had taught her that Lord Ilpalazzo—no. That was exactly the kind of thinking she didn't need.
"I suppose it's rather late for Hyatt to apologize."
"You suppose correctly."
"I realize Excel-sempai is very angry. But you have to believe that I'm very glad to see you, after so many years, and – that I never meant for anything bad to happen. I never thought—"
The kettle whistled. Hyatt quickly lifted it off the burner and began to pour the tea, but the sharp noise had planted an idea in Excel's mind. What if Hyatt was sharper than she let on?—What if she couldn't be trusted? What if she still did serve him, after all, and was only waiting for the right time—
"Please." Hyatt pressed the cup of tea into her hands. It was a rich black tea, and the smell was heavenly. Forgetting all thoughts of treachery, Excel lowered her lips and drank with greedy abandon, burning her tongue.
"Ilpalazzo – is good," Hyatt went on, nervously fingering her collar. "I had hoped that some day, Ilpalazzo and Excel might—"
Excel slammed the empty mug on the counter. The sound, like the report of a gun, made Hyatt jump. "Look, you and I have unfinished business, so you'd better stop talking and – start talking and tell me where he is."
Hyatt lowered her eyes again. "Hyatt doesn't want Excel-sempai to hurt Ilpalazzo."
"What!—How can you say that!" Excel reared forward. "You saw what he did to me! You saw…" She turned away. Hyatt looked at her, her mouth slightly open, and wished that there were something she could say. "You saw what he did to me. And there's no forgiving that. Ever. So you'd better tell me where he is. Or else, or else…"
"Excel-sempai should stay here with me. Hyatt remembers when she and Excel were employed at a 'difficult' high school. My husband works at a vocational school, and—"
"No!—Stop distracting me. With your tea, and your – I'm gonna go through with it! I'm gonna – kill him!"
Hyatt gasped.
"That's right. I'm gonna kill Ilpalazzo!"
"The Excel-sempai that Hyatt remembers would never say such terrible things!"
"Well he killed me, didn't he! Or he tried to. But – it's not that that hurts. I – oh – shut up! No more talking! No no no! Either you tell me where he is, or I'll, I'll – kill you! Or – I was gonna kill you anyway, so – I'll kill you worse!"
"I understand Excel-sempai wants to get even—"
"Oh no, no, no. To get even – Even Steven – I'd have to kill you, go into the other room, kill your daughter – then wait for your husband to come home, and kill him. That'd be about even, Hatchan. That'd be about square."
"But Hyatt's family has done nothing to you! How could that be even?"
Excel shook her head. "I don't know; it sounded like a cool thing to say, alright? But I don't want to get even…"
"Then," Hyatt said carefully, "what is it that you want?"
Excel didn't answer.
"Ilpalazzo is a good person. So is Excel-sempai. Excel would not hurt Hyatt, or Hyatt's family. Or Lord Ilpalazzo."
"You ditched him! You said it yourself! What's he to you now; why're you protecting him, Hatchan?"
"My codename is Hyatt," she said slowly. "Lord Ilpalazzo gave me that name. I once served Ilpalazzo. Ilpalazzo wants to conquer Japan. Hyatt is not interested in conquering, but Hyatt wants Ilpalazzo – and Excel-sempai – to be happy."
"You want him to be happy?—After what he did?" She tried to meet Hyatt's eyes, but Hyatt looked away. "You understand, don't you? I'm not angry that he tried to kill me. That doesn't bother me. If he had ordered me, I would have cut my guts out with a sharp blade, just as the sun rose, on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea…" Her eyes began to grow misty, and she stopped herself with an angry rattle of her head. "But he didn't! He just stood there and listened while I poured my tiny little heart out, and then he…
"You want me to be happy, Hatchan? Tell me where he is, how I can get to him, and I'll do it. Because I won't be happy until he's dead, dead, dead, and so you can't want us both to be happy!"
"But I do."
Excel's eyes drifted from Hyatt's lowered head to the pot of tea, simmering at her elbow. Then it began to dawn on her. "Hey Hatchan," she said suddenly. "You haven't poured yourself any tea. How come?"
"Oh, Hyatt isn't particularly thirsty. Would Excel-sempai like another cup?"
She felt a numbness in her fingers. Shi-it…if only I hadn't gulped it down so quick. So that's how it gonna be, she thought. You're not gonna let me hurt him.
"Please," said Hatchan, smiling, offering the teapot. "Don't you like the tea? It's good."
Excel pushed it away with a politic smile. "No thanks."
"Oh. Then perhaps you would like some lemonade…"
Hyatt half-turned, setting the teapot down, and reached for the door of the refrigerator. Excel hefted the large ceramic teapot and brought it down with a crack on Hyatt's defenseless head. The pot exploded in shards. Scalding tea sprayed Excel's jacket. Hyatt collapsed without whimper.
There was a moment of silence in the kitchen. In the living room, Excel could hear explosions and gunfire from the television; they had covered the sound. She still clutched the handle of the teapot, now independent of any teapot, and she let it drop.
Sorry, Hatchan, she thought, watching the blood pool rapidly around Hyatt's head, flowing from the mouth, the nose and the fractured skull. It would take her a while to sleep that one off. But hadn't she meant to do it all along? Hatchan had had it coming, hadn't she? Even before she'd tried the trick with tea. Because – because. She couldn't afford to stop, or think. Hatchan was on his side; she was the enemy.
Excel flexed her hands. So it hadn't been a lethal poison; probably it had only been meant to knock her out. Anyway, there hadn't been enough of a dose to do the job in one mug. She could leave, and she would have to; she didn't want to have to explain to the little girl, again, why her mother was laid out bloodily on the floor.
Evening was setting in. The sky was a mellow red, and the hiss of cicadas rose from bushes and trees. Soon, Hyatt's husband would be returning home from work.
Straddling her bicycle, Excel tried to clear her mind. Thoughts usually flowed through her mind like water, quickly replaced by others; but Hatchan's words, and the image of her bloodied head, had lodged there like a commercial jingle.
Ilpalazzo is a good person. So is Excel-sempai. Excel would not hurt Hyatt, or Hyatt's family. Or Lord Ilpalazzo.
She had been absolutely, no-shadow-of-a-doubt one-hundred-percent right to do whatever she'd done, was doing, and meant to do, she reminded herself. A wise man had told her once…
Weapons are the tools of violence; all decent men detest them. Weapons are the tools of fear; a decent man will avoid them except in the direst necessity, and, if compelled, will use them only with the utmost restraint. He enters a battle gravely, with sorrow and with great compassion, as if he were attending a funeral.
No-no-no-no-no. A wise man had told her once…
When you make up your mind to a thing, no matter how foolish and ill-conceived, the important thing is to go through with it, pig-headedly, at any cost!
There, that was more like it! Nodding to herself, she balanced her weight, kicked off, and began to pedal down the mountain.
Excel's preview: "Well, that wasn't much of a challenge, was it? I was expecting a little more lead-racing, pulse-pumping action, maybe a car chase or two! But I suspect that some of my enemies might put up a bit more of a fight, so if I intend to proceed with just my trusty fists, I might eventually find myself just a li-ttle outgunned!—So, I'll solve this problem in the traditional Japanese way! Silk and battleships! Silk and battleships! Well, maybe not, but lots and lots of steel is sure to be involved!—and also this guy who asked to be described as 'good with kids!' It's all coming up on the next episode of Death Rides a Bicycle: "The Man From Osaka!" Why isn't this parody following the nonchronological structure of the original movie? Who the heck knows! Tune in next time or something bad will probably happen to your family!"
Author's Note: The first quote that comes to Excel's mind is from the Tao Te Ching. I don't know about that second one.
