vi. puppets in the crowds

Sometimes Kaminaga thought it was funny, how they never knew each other's real names, but went along with it anyway. It never bothered him that people who are the closest to what he could call friends, might initially had been men of totally different personalities to what they chose to exhibit now. He took in all of their fake identities naturally, like it was just how the world works and accepted deliberately. Perhaps because the man called Kaminaga too wasn't supposed to exist in the first place (yet he could no longer picture himself being anyone but Kaminaga).

Before he knew it, the summer heat had dissipated and chilly autumn wind began to knock on their windows. It brought a rather pleasant nuance to the agency; Hatano wasn't as short-fused, Miyoshi stopped complaining about his hair, and even Yuuki seemed to be in good humor (well of course he was, being able to cut off some expenses through the unused electric fans, that old scrooge)—though he wasn't any less torturous in his training programs.

The days went fast, but it was as if nothing changed. Their trainings continued as usual, and by now he could see clearly who excelled at what. Tazaki was unbeatable in misdirection—or pickpocketing, it's astounding just how fast his hands were; Jitsui was the best at making poisons as well as interrogating, and yet that little devil didn't get affected too much by the truth serum; Fukumoto was a first class actor, and after learning how horrifyingly convincing his disguises were, Kaminaga wondered if the quiet cook that he's now was ever the actual trait of the tall man.

Be that as it might, he still hadn't gotten any further hint of the real Miyoshi. Kaminaga tried not to let the fellow spy preoccupy his mind too much, but it couldn't be helped when they were seeing each other's face every day, sleeping on the bed next to the other, and constantly got paired in seduction classes. Then adding to Kaminaga's annoyance, he couldn't really decide what Miyoshi's strongest point was; from cryptography to safe-cracking, language studies or social dancing, he seemed to excel in everything. If he must choose one thing that he thought Miyoshi was best at, then it's probably stealing Kaminaga's very own heart (that was a joke, of course, but Kaminaga couldn't think of anything else to diminish his own curiosity).

After one time Jitsui pointed out that they lately had been going out drinking so much at night, he decided to tag along with Tazaki to Hanayashiki. It was not their usual kind of amusement, but immersing himself in something that was not alcohol or playing around in bars might be a nice change of pace. At some point Miyoshi heard that they were going out, so he invited himself to join. Fukumoto and Odagiri, who had just returned from an errand and met them in the entryway of the cafeteria, wanted to go too. Then somehow, Amari, Hatano and Jitsui also joined in so they ended up going out with all members.

The weather was mild that afternoon, hence they forwent a few streetcar rides and started by foot. The rain had just ceased, leaving small puddles on the side of the pavement; the water reflected sunlight like broken mirrors. Fallen ginkgo leaves were ubiquitous, torn and crumbled under the passing shoes, while some traversed the air as they passed by. One of them landed on Miyoshi's hair, and Kaminaga tried quite hard not to pick it up himself.

Near Manseibashi Station, they ran into Yuuki who was walking from the opposite direction. The eight of them acted like they didn't know their superior, and the Lieutenant Colonel didn't even bother to spare them so much as a glance. Kaminaga didn't miss the cheeky smile widening on Hatano's lips after.

"I thought Tazaki-san loves animals," Jitsui began, as they waited for the streetcar.

"I do." Tazaki said.

"Isn't that why he wanted to go to Hanayashiki in the first place?" Amari asked. "To see the animals."

"Caged and circus animals," Jitsui reiterated, "isn't that kind of cruel?"

"Cruel?" Kaminaga chuckled. "I don't want to hear that from you."

The other spies followed suit in giving out a small laugh, but nobody wanted to mention their session with Jitsui during the last interrogation exercise with the truth serum. The addressed black-haired spy only smiled, in the way that it meant trouble or he was also amused—Kaminaga wasn't sure which. Hatano then threw in, "Won't this be the day Tazaki pick every lock in the cages and set the animals loose?"

"If it's Tazaki, wouldn't he just make them disappear, with magic tricks or something."

"But I don't think he could hide something as big as a lion under his sleeves—that's not literally possible, I mean."

"He could still hide pigeons, though."

"Gentlemen," Tazaki said, cutting off before anyone could add anything, "I am not doing anything illegal today."

"That means you'll really do it on another day, right?"

"Oh, well."

"You see that smile? He always makes that gentle expression, but you're actually one of the nastiest out of us all, aren't you, Tazaki?"

Listening to the idle chatter in the group, Kaminaga had to admit that he was rather entertained. Regardless of the spy's real intentions, he would still say Tazaki was one of the kindest people he'd ever known. He was polite, refined, and always having a tender smile that was also confident, but not arrogant. Sometimes he and Amari would drag him along to dance halls or tea houses, and competing on who would succeed in taking a lady home first or frolicking all night with geisha women. He almost never heard Tazaki complained, except for that one time when a stray cat got into the agency building and scared off his pigeons.

Still, despite his growing fondness for the spy, it bemused Kaminaga when witnessing how capable Tazaki was in using other people to get what he wanted; he didn't say it, but ingeniously created a situation in which others would unconsciously compel to his wishes. He had no guilt, and often would only exchange meaningful glances with Kaminaga, without ceasing to show that trademark smile of his.

That was about as much as Kaminaga could get from mere observation, and he knew the others also possessed the same sort of disparate sides, with traits that were unfit to the persona they're now using. Would it make them more human as it was man's nature to be a hypocrite, or would it make them more of a machine as they fabricate emotions and deprive themselves from the real ones? Kaminaga might as well never find the answer, but not once he had thought their lives were any less worth living, not when he finally felt belong.

Hanayashiki attracted many people, especially families with children. It was a small ground, but in every season the mass came over to admire the beauty of flowers, while sitting over a cup of tea between artificial waterfalls and fish ponds. At one entrance were lifelike dolls dressed in chrysanthemums, depicting scenes from famous plays; it reminded Kaminaga again that it was already autumn, and it had almost been a year since he entered D-Agency. Fukumoto and Odagiri went straight to the tea shops, and one by one each of them detached themselves from the group, blending in with the crowd. It was made to be cheerful park, yet Kaminaga could feel the atmosphere was somehow a little subdued. The children seemed unaffected, but perhaps in the minds of those parents accompanying them were also the thought of their oldest sons, currently battling in foreign lands, dying almost vainly for the empire.

Left with only three people—himself, Tazaki and Miyoshi—they walked along flower beds, absentmindedly pointing out the Latin names and meanings in flower languages of each one they saw, trying to see who remembered the most from their botanical classes. At one corner it was filled with red spider lilies, just in time for their bloom, bright like blood over the green of their stalks. The flowers made him think of Miyoshi, elegant and poisonous, stood as if their heads were held high.

Tazaki stopped at the bird stage just beyond the zoo area, as it was expected. The remaining two proceeded to the puppet theater next to it; they came in the middle of a show, of a fairytale with a title that Kaminaga couldn't remember. Some of the dolls, moved by contrivances, acquired gasps and screams as they appeared slowly from a basket. Crowded with children, they watched from the back. Miyoshi's stare was fixed on the puppets the entire time, but to Kaminaga he looked utterly unimpressed. Among the children laughs he'd been hearing all day, Kaminaga realized he had forgotten how to laugh like them, genuinely, at something so simple. He wondered where and when did his innocence go, or if there was a time on these days when his mind wasn't laden with questions.

The audience then clapped, the show was over; Miyoshi said he wanted to look for a drink, and reality snapped him back from his musings.

"How about tea?" he asked. The other spy nodded, and they head to the direction Fukumoto and Odagiri were going earlier. When it was only between them, he'd also been aware, that the easygoing and chatterbox Kaminaga wasn't necessary. He and Miyoshi had long surpassed the point where there's a need to exchange a bantering in every three minutes, while a kind of comfortable silence had developed between them. Sometimes it would only be the two of them together, busy with their own thoughts, and things had never been any more perfect.

Taking once last glance to the puppet theater, it suddenly struck him. His mind replayed the talk in the café at Kagurazaka last summer, and discerned it wasn't even a question that actually needed an answer. Kaminaga had come up with a conclusion that he couldn't provide a logical explanation to, but was sure of it regardless.

Miyoshi didn't just take up the offer; like Kaminaga, he too volunteered to be a spy.

In the midst of autumn foliage and cheers of children, Kaminaga imagined themselves as mechanical puppets on a stage they called the world.