Motion on a fourth dimensional plane
Note: Ack, it's been awhile.
School sucks, period. The past three months were like hell for me. In between struggling with math for no apparent reason and having to do either English essays or Physics labs, I found I had very little time to write. Worse, I found myself unable to write for long durations of time. The day I shall no longer have to do a lab write-up and talk about how certain physics principles apply to an experiment will be a great day for me indeed.
School and such aside, onto Motion.
Not much for this chapter actually. Dialogue killed me here, as it did with all my other fics I tried to write during this. I was able to keep going, however, and I eventually got it done. This chapter has a bit more info about Sergeant Randall, and up until now, is the most detailed regarding Sergeant Randall. Of course, I am leaving out certain bits until the later future, where they will help to display him and everything even more. For the moment, this chapter is the first of many bits of him adapting to life at Hinata-Sou. It may turn out to be a bit comedic from what I have planned, but I won't whack it too much out of proportion. But, throw in a veteran soldier with the already crazy group that consists of Love Hina and most should expect a bit of comic relief now and then.
Of course, there will still be the gritty war flashbacks every often, and a bit more. Those, I know I will have a great amount of fun writing when I get to them.
All in all, not much else. Onto the chapter. In the meantime, I need to sleep, study math, and hopefully keep up with my writing…
…ugh…
Chapter 6: MOOTW
Eating breakfast around the residents was quite…awkward. I actually should have taken off my armour when I had the chance. But, seeing how I did not think of that before, I was now sitting at the table in full military gear, minus my helmet, with a disproportionately sized bowl of rice in my thick gloved hands. I finished my fourth bowl of rice as well as with some other side dishes, while the residents had barely started their first. All sets of eyes were on me, and while I decided not to turn my head to look behind me, I could have sworn Su occasionally climbed onto my back to examine me closer.
"This is delicious" I finally said, breaking what felt like an eternity of silence, complementing on Shinobu's fine cooking. Indeed, it was quite fine. Definitely better than military rations and even more so than that stuff they give us at base camps.
"Thank you!" she happily exclaimed. "Are you still hungry?"
"No, I'm fine."
I set the bowl aside. I probably shouldn't have, since it left me sitting still with nothing to do but look back at everybody while they were staring at me. Now that the truth about me was out, I could understand everybody's sudden interest - there was a soldier from the future sitting at their table eating breakfast with them. How could they not want to sit there and observe me? In a way, I felt like some of those specimens I once examined under a microscope back in school. I now understood what they probably felt – varying shades of awkwardness.
"Again, I want to thank everybody for accepting me here," I said. "These are some rather bizarre circumstances, and the fact that everybody was willing to look past it is of great assistance to me."
"Don't worry about it, we forgive you" Keitaro replied. Strangely, he was in a relatively good spirits, even after all that has happened. Hell, he was still in good condition, even after being hit by Naru again.
The residents had accepted me. After coming out of the room and meeting with them face-to-face for the actual first time, they were all bright and positive and introduced themselves nicely. It would appear as though my actions the other night worked for everybody's benefit – they were safe, the inn and teahouse weren't demolished, and I had something to do that I connected quite well with. I could tell, however, there was still a level of distrust and scepticism still present.
Then again, that level of distrust and scepticism was probably them wanting to know what sort of future was in store for them.
"So, you're from the future?" Kitsune asked curiously. "What's it like? Do you have a flying car? Food in pill form? Clones? Robots? Robot-Clones?!"
This was going to be quite difficult to cope with. Any information I give could potentially screw the future up. It's best if I say nothing, or at least keep quiet about specific details.
"Not exactly" I replied weakly.
"Come on…tell us something," Kitsune purred as she got closer to me. "Anything? Can you at least tell us about yourself?"
That last bit seemed to catch everybody attention. I suppose it wouldn't be that bad to tell them something about me, seeing how I was going to live with them for an unspecified amount of time. Of course, I had to keep within military protocol, Article 4-C in particular, and keep certain details in secrecy. Then again, how does protocol even relate to a situation like this? Hell, I just found a major loophole in the system for a time when it needs a rule.
"Well, I'm a soldier, I'm currently holding the rank of Sergeant First Class, and I have been a soldier for the last eight years."
"Eight years?" Su was practically sliding on the table, amazed by that number.
It was true – I have served in the Commonwealth military for eight years now. I started decently young, did a few tours in brushfire conflicts and peacekeeping missions prior to The War and kept going until now. Come to think about it, this was the first time I've actually thought about how long I've been in the military. Eight years is quite a fair bit of time. I suppose the expression, 'time flies when you're having fun' holds true even for my situation.
"How old are you?" Shinobu asked as she brought more food to the table for the others to eat.
"I'm twenty-six years old."
"Wait, so you joined the army when you were…eighteen? Wouldn't you have just finished high school?" Naru asked.
I nodded my head in agreement.
"I finished high school, did some time in university, and then joined up," I explained. "I decided to go career when I did it."
"Career?" Sarah asked. "Doesn't that mean you've decided to be a soldier, like, forever?"
"Pretty much, until I choose to retire, at least."
There was a collective feeling of amazement that came from the residents. True, I had decided go the career route and stay in the military. It was something other people never cared too much about when I first did it, except for those who asked why I decided to waste my life like that. Five years later, when The War began, they then started to look at me differently. I decided to join the military for a career, and now there was a war going on – 'are you stupid?' I was asked; 'aren't you throwing away your life?' familiar people and old friends asked me.
"But why? Why would you even join the army?" Keitaro asked.
Interesting – I was rarely asked that. Of all the things I could have done, I decided to join the army. Of all the career paths that were laid out in front of me following high school with more promising results and benefits – and wages – I decided to spend the rest of my life serving in the military. My mind tried to find the same reasons it had agreed on back then. Was it for the sake of service? During that time, the world was quite a fragile place. The Commonwealth and the Bloc were at each others throats and each side never ceased to try and provoke open war. Did I join for what then seemed like a possible war? Or was it related to personal decisions? Did I join to prove something, to my family?
Did I join to prove something, to myself?
"It's hard to say." I went for the most ambiguous answer, possibly, because I didn't have the real reason myself. "I thought about it for awhile, and it seemed like a good idea at the time for me, and I was willing to do my part in the grand scheme of things."
"I don't agree about a career that involves purposefully ending the lives of others."
From her seat at the far end of the table, Motoko's comment prompted silence from the others. The part of me that grew used to war and accepted it completely disagreed, and wanted to tell her that, especially seeing how she trained and carried a sword with her. However, that side was the same one that often got soldiers reprimands when dealing with civilians. I'm better than that – I outgrew that during the time I spent as a Corporal.
"If it helps, think of me as someone who picked the wrong choice of career and has no way out of it until it all blows over" I answered.
My answer only elevated the curiousness of the residents.
"What do you mean by 'no way out'?" Keitaro asked. "Is there something going on in the future?"
"World War Three?" Naru added, rather horrified. "Is there a war in the future?"
Everybody must have at least known what World War III meant. Then again, it would be another two years before they would see the logical start of it. This was the point where I could not tell them anything, particularly regarding the fact that my war was logically the fourth World War.
"I can't answer that."
The curiousness of the residents faded into disappointment. They wouldn't be receiving an exclusive first look into the future – that's for sure.
"Come on, can't you give us something?" Kitsune asked, begging. "A hint, maybe?"
"Well, you've seen all my equipment," I replied. "If somebody like me is running around with kit like that, you know at least something's going on."
The residents were pushed into disappointment yet again. They wanted something more concrete than that, but I was going to give them the benefit of free thought. By giving such inconclusive and ambiguous answers, they were left to figure out what I meant.
"So, if you're not going to tell us anything, does that mean you're not going to tell us why you're here?" Kitsune asked.
"Believe me, if I knew why I was here, I would say it" I answered, somewhat half-truthfully. I probably wouldn't say it, actually, but it did provide a rather nice answer.
I did have to wonder, though, why was I here? Of all the soldiers in the Commonwealth, why was it only me that was sent back through time? Furthermore, why did this thing even happen?
"Wait, this thing that's happening in the future," Kitsune asked again. "Is it serious?"
The War was quite a serious thing. It was a large scale war between two ideologies, a revival of the old East versus West, Communism versus Democracy. If one side lost, the other would take over and that ideology would rule supreme over the entire planet. Then again, it was only serious to those who actually understood inside and out the political ramifications of what would happen.
"You could say that" I responded.
"Serious enough that your leaders decided to send a hero back in time to stop it from ever happening?" Kitsune continued. She really got into it. She was standing, with her arms outstretched in front of her, with her eyes opened and her face locked in a crazed expression.
"In order to the collective robotic hegemony, the last of mankind's valiant resistance sends back their finest soldier and hero over a century into the past to change history and prevent their future war from ever erupting!"
By now, Kitsune was actually standing on the table with her arms raised while screaming her prediction in the most outrageous voice possible. Everybody at the table stared up at her and continued so without a word. An awkward minute or two passed by. I'll admit, it was the most illogical prediction I've yet to hear from anybody. Sure, I had a Silver Star and I did a good job of leading my squad, well enough that command had nice things to say about me, but the finest soldier? A hero, even?
It was flattering, but in spite of that, I had to realise it simply wasn't so in my case – quite sadly.
"You were watching Terminator again, weren't you?" Keitaro asked, breaking the silence.
Kitsune hopped off the table and back into her chair.
"Of course, it's such a good movie, and Shuwa-chan is sooooo sexy!"
"Shuwa-chan?" I asked, confused.
"Arnold Schwarzenegger, the famous Austrian body building and actor," Naru explained for me. "In Japan, he has the nickname Shuwa-chan."
"Oh, the Governor" I said, thinking out loud.
Come to think about, I really need to stop doing that. Especially when the information I'm thinking out loud happens to be information they don't need to know yet.
"Wait, what?" Kitsune was right in front of me, with a look of surprise on her face. No doubt, she had heard 'governor' and wanted to know more.
"Uh…of course, Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor…of…guns…yeah, the Governor of Guns," I said. My mind was a mess, pulling up as many words as possible that would make sense. Hell, 'Governor of Guns?' What kind of dumb shit was that? I've BS-ed a hell of a lot before, but nothing like that.
"As part of a tribute to the numerous action movies he had made, my squad gave him the nickname 'the Governor of Guns', stuff like that."
Wait a minute - was Schwarzenegger even an action star? Was I getting this right, or was I pinning this on the wrong person? I knew I heard the name from somewhere, something about a famous actor becoming a governor or something, and that his push from actor to a government position was seen after a bit as the first of many soon to be actors and actresses taking up roles in government. Was I getting the right person? I looked back up at Kitsune, who simply stared at me. Would she buy it? Was she going to believe it?
"That's pretty cool," she finally said, apparently in agreement. "So, he's still popular even in the future?"
"Yeah, he still is. Actually, considering how most of the movies in my time are political documentaries, it's nice to see some old action flicks now and then."
Well, that part was true, at least. In the 22nd century, most movies to be recently released end up as political documentaries discussing Communism and Capitalism. I have little to no idea on how movie makers can manage to fit political discussion into a movie about, say, university students travelling the world in search of hidden treasure and/or sex, but somehow it was doable. If I'll agree with the ultra left-wing politicians on one thing, it will be on the fact that most of our media actually is propaganda. Back at home, I can't go half a block without seeing a recruitment advertisement or a television set airing a pro-Capitalist program.
"Oh, so you're awake?" a new voice spoke.
Haruka then came into the dining room. She looked the same as ever – dressed in her usual apron with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.
"Good morning, ma'am" I greeted, standing up and kindly saluting. I know she doesn't have any sort of military rank, particularly above me, but it was the least I could do.
"I'm surprised you're up," she continued. "You were banged up pretty good the last we saw of you."
"Don't worry, ma'am, I'm perfectly fine" I said, reassuringly.
"Really?" Haruka asked, as she arched an eyebrow and temporarily took her cigarette from her mouth. "Whatever. I'm sure you know yourself better than I do."
"That I do, ma'am" I replied bluntly.
"Well, with that aside," she then began, after taking another whiff of her cigarette before continuing. "I suppose you can speak English?"
Much to my surprise, plus the others in the dining room, Haruka spoke her last sentence in English to me. It was interesting to hear her speak, actually. For a Japanese person, she spoke the language almost perfectly. No accent, no mispronunciations – just English, in the way it would be spoken.
Come to think about it, Haruka being able to speak English perfectly got me back into thinking how well trained she is. Not only could she handle a weapon, but she was at least bilingual. Was it just me, or were all the characteristics I have noticed in her so far just perfectly coincidental for some type of military operative?
"Yes, ma'am, that I can do, although it shouldn't be much a surprise" I replied.
Everybody in the dining room looked at me with added interest. Come to think about it, they never heard me speak in English just yet. So far, I either had microphones in my helmet translate for me, or I spoke directly in Japanese. Judging from the rather confused glances of the residents, they probably had no idea what I just said.
"That's an interesting accent – British?" Haruka asked as she listened to my voice.
"Yeah," I replied. "I lived in Great Britain since I was small and I still do, actually."
"That explains the accent," Haruka continued. "Your Japanese is pretty good."
"Oh, thank you ma'am, I'm of a mixed background – mostly Caucasian but part Japanese as well," I said with smile. "I figured it would be in my best interests to learn at least another language, and as you can possibly tell, it was a good idea. I actually wanted to learn German when I was younger, but that wouldn't have helped me here now, would it?"
I have to admit, I often succumbed to the guilty pleasure of talking about myself. Then again, all of this was barely the surface of Sergeant First Class J. Randall's personal history – a rather traumatic romp through hell and back and back again for shits and giggles, if I do say so myself.
"Um…hello?" Keitaro weakly interrupted. "Can the both of you speak a language we can all understand, at least?"
"Sorry, got caught in the moment" I said, reverting back to Japanese. Come to think about it, did my accent carry into my Japanese just as well? Japanese with a British accent – that was quite fascinating.
"He was just saying how he was British" Haruka said, summarising our little tête-à-tête with a single sentence.
"Like James Bond?!" Kitsune asked, excited.
"Who?" I asked in response to Kitsune. James Bond? Who the hell is he?
"…never mind…"
I was left to my remaining state of confusion as Kitsune shrunk back into her chair. With her questions and wonderings about the future at least suppressed, Haruka continued on.
"So, you're fine? Good, we'll need your help."
"What sort of help?"
"We may have accepted that you're from the future and that you're marooned here for the time being, and that we can't let you walk around freely because of all the stuff you know," Haruka began. "But that does not excuse you from helping Hinata Sou while you're staying here."
Is she implying what I think she's implying? For some reason, I conjured up an image of myself wearing an apron much like the one Haruka has, walking around with a tray of tea and serving customers, smiling and laughing and saying things like 'Have a nice day, sir!' or 'Enjoy your tea, miss!'
I cringed at that thought. I did not serve eight years in the military, fought all over the Ural Mountains for a year-and-a-half through snow, wind, and artillery bombardments and the other year-and-a-half all throughout the rest of Africa, Central Europe, and dozens of other places, killed hundreds of Bloc soldiers in a multitude of fronts and battlefields – and survived all of them – only to be serving tea at this time.
"What sort of help are you implying?" I inquired, choosing my words carefully.
"For one, repairing all the damage you caused" Naru said, interrupting Haruka.
"Damage that I caused?" I scoffed. "Well, that's a bit cruel now, don't you think? I didn't even do half of it."
"But you did do half of it" Keitaro piped up. I shot him a glare, and he noticeably grimaced and tried to put as much distance between himself and me while staying in his chair.
"What we mean is, all the damage you caused directly," Haruka explained. "All the walls you shot at, the bullet holes, my door…"
Oh, so they were talking about that - collateral damage, perhaps? If Commonwealth soldiers failed completely in one aspect, it was limiting that type of damage. Every other place we ended up at, we almost always smashed the place up and left it in smouldering ruins when we left. It was quite funny – we walked out of these places with a general idea that we liberated the people, but walked out amidst ruined buildings and rubble that once consisted of a poor family's house. More chances than naught, it was our own bombers or artillery that demolished their house in the first place.
"Alright, I accept, I'll help clean up the damage" I said in agreement to their terms.
"Good," Haruka said. "After that, you should at least help my nephew clean the inn every often as well."
Fair enough. There wasn't any way I could argue otherwise. If I help clean the building, I suppose I had a place to stay at. It was a two-way deal that would benefit all sides. Well, not for me, since cleaning was the pits.
"Do you have any clothes you can wear? That suit isn't exactly conspicuous." Haruka commented at my armour. Of course, it didn't look like anything they've ever seen before. If I wanted to stay low, I needed something else a bit 'normal' at least.
"Don't worry about it - I've got some stuff under the suit that shouldn't raise too much attention. I just need to get this stuff off first."
I made my way back to the room I woke up in. Turns out, it was located in between Kitsune and Keitaro's room. Everybody in the kitchen followed me and kept a good eye on me as I prepared to remove my armour.
The Commonwealth's standard combat uniforms consisted of many parts and layers. It wasn't complex or overly difficult, but the sheer volume of crap we wore made the process of disrobing rather tricky and a bit like completing a jigsaw puzzle. I started with my armoured plating. The thick black plates of nanomaterial armour covered my upper torso, my forearms, the sides of my shoulders, knees, shins, and all the vital areas. The plates were strapped into place and were sealed onto junction points on my outer soft armour to ensure they'd stay in place despite the punishment we'd receive.
After removing all the armoured plating, I was left to the outer layer of soft armour. The soft armour was exactly as it sounded and comprised of the rest of our major suited armour. The pixels of varying size that made up the digital camouflage pattern were mixtures of light and dark greys, blacks, and whites – the near standard urban-style camouflage pattern for the Commonwealth. The soft armour, although impossible to tell from the outside, was actually a thin sealed layer that held special oils with suspended nanomachines that would bond together on impact or when an impact is imminent and form a layer of temporary armoured plating – liquid armour, the last I heard. That way, for all the other parts of our body not protected by our main armoured plating, the soft armour was light, manoeuvrable, and could protect us quite well on the battlefield. There were two parts to it, the upper torso and everything else below the waist. With my chest plating now removed, several suit seals were now uncovered and were operable. I rotated the seals and felt the suit depressurise. With that done, I opened it up from the front and removed the first half of the soft armour. The second half was a bit trickier, due to the fact that our boots were also fixed onto the suit. A brief flick of the quick-release seals and switches allowed me to remove my boots with ease, followed by the lower half of my combat suit.
Underneath that was the climate suit, a thin body glove that regulated our body temperatures for whatever conditions we were fighting in. It used a system of nanomachines that would change their internal temperatures to warm or cool down our bodies. There wasn't much to it – I simply opened up the straps and slid out of the glove. After the long and arduous process of removing my armour, I was rewarded with being stripped down to my basic fatigues. The basic Commonwealth military fatigues are comprised of a rather primitive white t-shirt and a set of trousers patterned in the same camouflage pattern as my soft armour. While I didn't technically have 'shoes', per se, I was wearing the standard issue high-mobility, basic military footwear. It was more of a reinforced sock with a set of treads on the bottom of the foot, but it was lightweight and accomplished its rather minimal purpose quite well regardless. It could slip into our boots easily and still allow for a great amount of mobility.
I took a moment to stretch my tired muscles. I've worn that same suit for the better part of eight weeks non-stop and taking it off now only reminds me of how heavy all of it actually was. With my armour removed, I felt significantly lighter. Hell, I was feeling so light I figure I could run fifty long laps in record time without breaking a sweat.
The residents eyed me curiously. Of course they would – I looked almost completely different without my armour. Commonwealth soldiers were akin to robots or machines on the battlefield, all because of the armour. It made us look a hundred pounds heavier, a foot-and-a-half taller, and easily more threatening and less human to our enemies. Without the armour, most Commonwealth soldiers were either lanky teenagers fresh out of high school, or medium built, mid-twenties to thirty-something year old men. I existed somewhere in the latter, but my physical profile was probably a tad bit smaller than the other soldiers of that category.
In the end, being without my armour made me the most uninspiring and most generic person most would ever meet – an average Joe Blow from down the street, technically speaking.
"Alright, I'm ready," I said to Haruka. "And everybody, please don't touch my weapons or equipment while I'm out, okay?"
There was a slight nod of agreement amongst the other residents. I noticed it the most in Su. While I didn't want anybody poking around with my gear, I figure she'd do it anyways. With that aside, I followed Haruka out of the building. I didn't see where the others went to, but I figure they'd stay in the building. It wasn't my concern – my primary one was about the amount of damage I'd have to repair.
"We have some spare wood and tools in the back of the teahouse" Haruka explained as we approached the building.
Turns out, I did do a fair bit of damage. The doorframe was completely smashed away, more so than I last remember. Of course, it was a spur of the moment sort of decision, and in those times, certain details escape the human mind. There were also several ruined patches and sections on the side of the building, courtesy of the big Mecha-Tama I had fought the other night, and if I had to guess, I'd have to repair those as well.
I wasn't much of a repairman, but I knew how to make basic repairs. After showing me to the wood and tools, Haruka left me to do my work. I picked up the pieces of wood and began nailing them into place. I had a whole bunch of them lying on the ground next to me. The small, metal pieces were so damn primitive. In a way, I can't even begin to imagine how people used to use them to hold things together. In the 22nd century, nanite sealing pastes were far more prevalent and much more efficient to use. A small colony of specialised nanomachines would be wiped over top of the needed area and whatever needs to be attached is simple attached. After that, the nanites would make bonds between the atoms of the material and keep the pieces together.
I kept hammering at the nails. Seriously, how the hell are these things supposed to keep parts together? Apply enough movement and pressure on the nailed pieces and the whole thing could be lifted away. Hell, I slammed myself through the door and it broke off quite easily. Nanite pastes would hold on and self-repair where needed.
Well, I couldn't blame the nails, at least. It would be another century before nanite pastes would find their way into use.
I continued my work for what seemed like the better part of an hour or two. If I had to guess, the teahouse must have been closed today, due to the lack of customers. The sly thought of the business not doing well crossed my mind for a moment, and then passed as I continued my work. When I finished, I stood back and admired my handiwork. It wasn't too bad, actually, especially since I had to do it with my bare hands and with primitive tools.
My goodness, was high technology going to be my downfall, or what?
"Finished?" Haruka walked out of the teahouse and looked over my work.
"Not bad, isn't it?"
"Good, now fix the holes in my wall."
I groaned as I moved the materials and resumed my work, this time on the hole the smaller Mecha-Tamas made as they broke into the teahouse before. I nailed in place several smaller planks of wood, covering the wide gaping maw in the wall. It wasn't hard to do, easier, actually, than having to meticulously nail parts together for the doorframe. I was almost done within a few minutes, actually.
"So, what unit are you from?" Haruka asked while I worked.
I stopped for a moment and looked back at her. The memories of the interrogation flashed through my head, remembering how they continued to ask what my unit was.
"Okay let me rephrase that," Haruka said, correcting her question. "What sort of unit are you from? I'm not asking what unit you're from specifically."
What sort of unit? I suppose I could answer that. My regiment was the 1st Mechanised Light Calvary Regiment. The insignia wasn't patterned on my fatigues, but it was printed on my left shoulder plate, and was also tattooed to my right bicep, but nobody here knew about that. Hell, half of my squad didn't know about that tattoo – the result of a bet I was most unfortunate to take part in, but never mind that.
The symbol for my regiment was an ironclad horse standing high on its rear legs in front of a shield, and the ornate number '1' beneath the horse. The term mechanised light calvary was simply, a fancier way of saying mechanised infantry. The uses for mechanised infantry were exploited quite well by the Commonwealth in The War. Because we had vehicular support, we were fast, well armoured, and well armed. In addition to providing support on the field for the general infantry, our light calvary status often had us selected to be used as reconnaissance, with the intent of finding the enemy. Also fitting onto our list of duties were skirmishing and raids, to be done with the intentions either of demoralising the opponent or softening up their lines for when the bulk of the attack force makes it in. Our services were in demand quite a bit in The War, actually. On every front and in every condition and situation, we hit the Bloc forces first, faster and harder.
"Technically speaking, I fall into the category of mechanised infantry" I explained, simplifying the details of my unit.
"Armoured personnel carriers for you, then?" Haruka asked.
"Yeah, although we operate with other types of vehicles."
My regiment used a decent supply of vehicles. The other day, just before the time travel snafus, my squad and all the others were using the M350 'Rhino' armoured personnel carrier, a large, blocky vehicle that was well armoured and capable of transporting soldiers out onto the battlefield with great speed and safety. It was the backbone of most ground related operations, due to the fact it was a modular vehicle, able to have parts swapped out at base for whatever the operation needed. The modifications included extra armour, greater storage space for up to two or three squads, and even weaponry that would allow it to return punishment in the form of 60mm autocannons and racks filled with hard hitting antitank rockets. Those were but some of the things a Rhino APC could be equipped with.
The other vehicles included light tanks, fast attack vehicles, as well as the iconic Walkers. I held the detail about the Walkers to myself. Haruka didn't need to know about the twelve metre bipedal tanks just yet.
Hell, she didn't need to know about them, period.
"Funny, I would have figured you for Special Forces or something" Haruka commented, much to my amusement.
I was amused, mainly because the definition of 'Special Forces' had changed a fair bit over the course of a century and a half. By default, any rare number of soldiers saying how they wanted to become a Special Forces operator would have to be either incredibility stupid or fresh out of boot – just another way of saying 'stupid', actually. Of course, the long list of stories and truths about the infamous Commonwealth SpecWar operators were tales for another time. Hell, I don't even know much about them anyways. Anybody who does is more likely to end up in front of the North American Trans-Continental monorail on a busy day. That point was interesting, because there actually have been, so I've heard, anyways.
"No, I'm mechanised infantry only. What makes you say that even?" I asked her, while continuing my work of boarding up the holes in the wall.
"I'm not sure," Haruka replied, leaning back in her seat. "You look and act like one, to me, at least."
I suppose that was true. My hair was short, but there was still a certain amount of it on my head, much longer than what 20th century military regulations would have possibly allowed. The short strains of hair were an undetermined dark colour, as though my genetics were confused as to whether it should have been straight black or simply chestnut coloured. The length was all due to the nanites watching for lice or other problems. As a result, Commonwealth soldiers could keep their hair without any negative side affects. As for how I acted…that was an interesting point. I suppose I was a bit more on the open side, but I suppose I could be one hell of a hard ass when I wanted to – and I've certainly done that before.
Then again, after serving with Ostergard as my right hand man for about three years and leading 2nd Squad and the usual assortment of screwballs and idiots, I suppose I have gotten soft while not in the fray.
"Believe me, I'm just a grunt," I said to Haruka. "A more intelligent grunt, but yeah, just a grunt."
"I've got a question for you, actually," I spoke up shortly afterwards, while keeping up with my work. "What are you - military or paramilitary?"
Haruka looked at me as though I said something stupid. Her glance then turned into amusement.
"I mistake you for Special Forces, and you mistake me for somebody in the military?"
"Well, let's see," I said, counting down the things I observed about her. "You're unnaturally calm in any sort of dangerous situation, like me holding your nephew at gunpoint and the attack by the Mecha-Tamas the other night. You seem to be at least bilingual and while I might be wrong, I suspect you can speak more languages than just English.
"And on top of that, you can also handle a firearm rather well. Rather ideal qualifications for some type of highly trained operator."
I eagerly awaited her answer. She looked at me with a calm gaze that was impossible to decipher. There was something about that look, something that suggested she was professional and highly skilled. That same look is quite intriguing, actually. I'll even have to admit, that look made Haruka look stunningly gorgeous. While I was limited thanks to the aforementioned nanites, that same air gave a very sexy and mysterious attribute to Haruka. It was a very confident and immovable air to her that I was certainly most fascinated with.
"I'm just naturally calm," she eventually replied. "It's better to walk into anything confident rather than screaming, like Keitaro, for example. The languages? I picked up a few when I travelled around for a bit."
I guess that made sense. Not everybody had to be former-military to have those.
"What about the training with firearms, then?"
Haruka shrugged.
"A girl needs to protect herself, right?"
I suppose. It was the same rationale that inspired my younger sister to buy a firearm. At least, I hope so.
"Sorry about all the questions. I just thought of you as military or related."
"Believe me, I'm just a teahouse manager," Haruka said, smiling. "A teahouse manager that happens to be highly skilled with various weapons, but yeah, just an owner and operator of a teahouse."
Her last explanation was just soaked with irony, an exact mirror of what I said. Well, I'm just a grunt, and she's just a teahouse manager. It was as simple as that.
My work continued along. I boarded up the holes, and went back into the inn to fix whatever damage was there. It wasn't hard but rather, it was boring as hell. Despite the nanites keeping me awake, I found it was tempting to fall over and sleep. I took a short break and ate lunch with the others before going back to work, boarding up bullet holes and fixing whatever needed to be fixed. Trying to describe all of that would be like trying to write a book about my day-to-day routine outside of war – it's merely one repetitive and indescribable act over and over again.
If I had to guess, it was around the evening when I had finished the last of my work. Repairing the damage inside Su's room was…problematic. Jungle warfare was bad enough, but trying to fix things inside a jungle was just stupid. I was grateful, since Su wasn't in her room then. If she were…well, I figure, I'd finally be able to leave her room the next day or two later.
I exited her room and stretched for a moment. My back was a little sore and my hands were stiff and almost impossible to move. The nanites would be onto them in moments, but for the moments before they get to work, I would at least have to cope with the feeling.
Dinner was a few hours ago, so I figured I'd head straight back to my room and grab a bit of my ration bar. It was tasteless and lacked the real feel of Shinobu's fine cooking, but it got rid of my hunger. With all the repairing out of the way, I had some time for myself. I laid back and stared at the ceiling, a wave of thoughts and questions running through my head.
Is this all for real? Was I really here?
I couldn't dispute that question. Every other moment I am here I keep telling myself the answer. I am here. This isn't some sick Alice in Wonderland-esque dream or hallucination. I was really here, in another time, with people I don't know, in a world I know nothing about.
When will I get back to my era? When will I go back to fighting the war I spent my last three years fighting?
As far as the questions went, I was relieved, somewhat. Being away from it meant I had some time to rest and recollect myself. It was like a form of leave, I suppose. If so, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, actually.
"Hey, Sergeant-san?" a voice spoke, outside my door. It sounded like Keitaro. I got up off the ground and up to the door.
"Evenin'" I replied.
"Aren't you going to eat dinner? Shinobu left a plate for you" Keitaro said, much to my surprise.
"Really? She made dinner for me?"
Shinobu was quite nice to have done that. Actually, 'quite nice' wasn't a method of describing her. Was her heart made of pure gold or something? She was kind enough to make an extra portion for me, and even save it for me. In particular, it was me – somebody she wouldn't trust just yet, no doubt, but she still makes food for them.
"I'll get it later, I had some work to finish up with" I replied, getting my mind off of it. There was much a thing as too much charity, especially for a person like me.
"Uh, hey, Sergeant-san, can you help me?" Keitaro asked. "I need to clean the outdoor baths, and I need a bit of help getting the mops and stuff."
"Alright, sure. Let's go."
I was playing it nice. While the thought of having some rest would have been nice, I figured it was best to actually help him. I followed him to a storage closet and helped him carry several buckets, mops, and the whole collection of cleaning tools and chemicals. If I had to guess, he would have needed a pair of round trips to get it all, but with me helping, one journey was all it would need.
"I'm curious, how does somebody like you end up here?" I asked Keitaro. It was a genuine question from my end. A person like him, in a place like this – how does that happen?
"I was looking for a place to stay after my parents kicked me out, and I came here," he said. "My grandmother left me the deeds to Hinata Sou, and now I'm the manager."
Well, that explains why he was the manager. Still, he seemed to be an extremely unlikely choice for a manager. I had more questions, however.
"Your parents kick you out?" I asked, trying to learn more about his situation. "How does that happen? Fed up with your lazy ass or what?"
"No, I kept failing my entrance exam."
As we travelled along, Keitaro told me a long, but somehow fascinating story of him failing his entrance exam into Tokyo University, not once, but three times. Somehow, the first two were enough to coerce Keitaro's parents to kick him out of their house, which would explain why somebody like him was here. But of course, failing three times in a row does make one ask a few other questions, and given his set of circumstances, a few others as well.
"Can't you just go to another school?" I asked him. "I mean, there's got to be at least one you can get into."
It was the first and most obvious question. Sure, I suppose Tokyo University was a prestigious school, the last I heard prior to Japan joining the Bloc, circa 2139, but was it worth all the apparent torture to make it in? With the type of logic I grew up with, I would say no, but what did Keitaro think?
"Well…" he started, somewhat hesitantly. "I have my…reasons."
"Oh?"
"Sergeant-san, have you ever…made a promise?" Keitaro then asked after a moment of silence between the two of us. "With a girl you…loved?"
I stopped mid stride, prompting him to halt as well. That question flashed several disturbing truths and memories through my head, relics and old pieces of history that once existed with me.
"No" I answered bluntly, in particular, to the 'love' part.
"That's why I'm here," Keitaro continued, going on to explain a story of how he made a promise to a girl he loved at a young age to meet with her at Tokyo University when the both grew up.
"Huh…" I replied simply, as the details of his tale ran through my head. "That's so…sappy."
Keitaro shot a rather confused, but irritated glare at me.
"What's wrong with it?" he demanded. "Haven't you ever loved somebody before?"
"I refuse to answer that" I answered, and continued to walk.
"Come on, haven't you?" Keitaro asked again, much to my annoyance.
"Trying to pull information like that out of me only gets you closer to having your throat slit ear-to-ear by me late at night."
The two of us remained silence as we travelled along, buckets, mops, cleanings solutions, and all the rest in hand, towards the baths. Well of course, it would be quite hard to say anything else after I give a threat like that. Luckily, I wasn't much of a throat slitting person. It was always a little too messy to have to work with, and the timing made it relatively difficult to work with as well, and having a flopping and gurgling body rolling around on the floor made a bit too much noise for the intended purpose. I preferred driving the blade of my knife up into the brain from the side of the head, right where the bone was the thinnest. If I was lucky, I could hit the medulla oblongata, which would make the whole thing easier to work with.
But of course, that was just me. I was more protective about certain aspects of my life, and that included my past and anything related to that word.
When we got to the baths, we entered through the change rooms and stopped there for a moment. Keitaro dumped all the stuff he was carrying and prepared himself for the long and possibly tortuous task of cleaning the baths.
"We should mop it down first, and then do the rest."
"Got it, following your lead."
I picked up my bucket and mop and began to follow Keitaro into the baths. I then stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed something. It was a small, discarded piece of clothing. Picking it up for closer examination, I then realised it was a pair of white cotton panties. Well, what would this be doing lying around here like this…?
A horrifying thought went through my head. I got up and moved towards Keitaro, who had just opened the door leading into the outdoor baths.
"Wait up, Keitaro!" I shouted as I got closer. "I think there's somebody inside!"
Too late – there actually was. Worse, there were six people inside. Even worse, they were all women and in varying degrees of undress, inside a warm and steaming hot springs with water slowly beading off at least three of their curvaceous bodies. Naru, Kitsune, Motoko, Su, Sarah, and Shinobu were in the hot springs, and so were Keitaro and me. Shinobu slowly cowered away and hid herself behind Kitsune, while Naru and Motoko in particular wore identical expressions of disbelief.
Silence was all that proceeded. Keitaro watched on in utter shock, completely incapable of words. Everybody else looked at us in confusion. I knew what would happen afterwards – that confusion will slowly turn into blind, raging anger, especially from Naru and Motoko. Memories of the first day quickly flashed by, and I knew it was inevitable. I needed to do something – something to save my life. And Keitaro's, I suppose, but first priorities are for me.
I dropped my mop and lifted the bucket. I flipped it around and slammed it onto Keitaro's head.
"Don't look! Don't look!"
With my hands on the sides of the bucket, I moved Keitaro aside and forced him to the ground. If I was lucky, I could at least make myself look better here, by trying to prevent Keitaro form looking. I then direct my attention back at the other residents of Hinata Inn. With Keitaro out of the way, I suppose I could do something. Perhaps all I need to do is approach this diplomatically – instead of gawking, I should be talking, right?
"Listen, I understand how bad this looks, but let me assure you, this was completely and solely accidental-"
"ZANGAKEN!"
…screw diplomacy. Here, talking meant me having to stand still – otherwise known as an easy target.
There wasn't any other way to describe what just happened. I didn't stand a chance and neither did Keitaro. Motoko's attack sent the two of us flying back into the changing room and up against the wall. Keitaro sat up next to me, dazed and lost as he tried to figure out what happened after I covered his head with the bucket.
He didn't need to ask – Motoko and her sword hovering in front of us, as well as with a now pissed off Naru with her fist raised was a dead giveaway.
"You know what, Keitaro?" I asked sarcastically and somewhat out of humour. "You – are brilliant. You walk in and you don't even bother checking the area first. Is it any wonder why this shit happens to you, and why it's now dragged me in?"
Keitaro looked at me in disbelief. We were this close to possible and painful death and I was saying that jokingly.
"Silence!" Motoko barked edging the tip of her sword closer. "I should have known! I don't expect much from Urashima, but you!"
She then directed her weapon at me. Oh, joy.
"You are a vile and uncivilised barbarian, one that takes pleasure in hurting and ending the lives of others! And now you've brought your evils upon the residents and have even dared to peep at the bodies of innocent maidens!"
"Listen, I can explain…" I tried to say again.
"Explain what?!" Naru demanded as she stepped up with her fist shaking. "That you two just happened to waltz in while we're all bathing?!"
"It was an accident - I swear, Narusegaw-!"
Keitaro, previously quiet and filled with fear then responded – with fear. That might have been the reason why he stood up so fast with a back straighter than a recruit on parade, followed by a sharp and apologetic bow. I fail to understand how it happened, but his bow somehow resulted in him landing his face in between Naru's not-insignificant cleavage, much to the surprise of Naru and the identical shock from the others.
"What the-! Keitaro, you pervert!"
Naru wound back her fist, and a split second later, the Hinata Inn manager was stuck in a roughly man-shaped impact crater in the wall, and then slowly crumbled to the ground moments later. It wasn't all that surprising, but I had to admit, there was something strangely comical about it.
"Alright, listen up," I said, getting back to my negotiations. While Motoko kept her sword at me, I stood up to hopefully be able to speak to them easier. "I can't speak for him, but for myself, I was dragged here to clean the baths. I have no intention of watching anybody at any time."
"That's your excuse?" Naru angrily clenched her fist, ready to strike at me.
I needed something to work with – fast. I kept with my usual argument or excuse about being here just to clean. It was the truth, but I was having a harder time conveying that.
"Come on, you've got to at least give the both of us the benefit of the doubt!"
"What doubt?!" Naru screamed. "Both of you walked in here while all of us are bathing!"
"Hey, it's not my fault," I said in my defence, turning my attention towards the unconscious and twitching figure of Keitaro. "This idiot didn't check the area before he entered. If anything, punish him, but not me. If anything, I'm the victim of shoddy intelligence, and that does not warrant an execution or even a court martial."
Rather, it warrants for the aforementioned intelligence officer to be shot - from my experience, at least.
"Uh…Naru-sempai?" Motoko tried to get Naru's attention, but Naru ignored her.
Strangely, there was a look of concern on Motoko's face. Was she concerned for Keitaro? Never mind, scratch that – there was not a chance in hell she would be concerned for him. She tried desperately to talk to Naru, but Naru remained set on arguing with me, as did I against her.
"Not now Motoko!" Naru hastily said.
"Come on, you've got to listen, at least consider it!" I shot back.
"N-N-Naru-sempai?" Shinobu tried rather weakly to get through to Naru, but as it did with Motoko, her cries fell upon deaf ears.
Come to think about it, why are Motoko and Shinobu trying to talk to Naru for? Do they feel sympathy for Keitaro and me, and want to settle this whole accident peacefully? I have no doubt perhaps Shinobu would feel that way, but Motoko as well? What was going on?
"Do you expect us to believe all that?!" Naru demanded, getting more and more irate. "That the only two males here will accidentally walk in on us bathing?!"
"Well, it is a possibility! Come on, shit happens, right? In my line of work, shit happens, every-single-day!"
While I spoke back, I caught a glance at Naru's eyes. Her dark hazel eyes were narrowed angrily, while her face was expressed in a snarl rivalling that of a ferocious animal. There was no doubt about it – Naru was simply vicious when agitated. Naru was really determined to argue back at me, and she was determined to prove her point. I couldn't help but admire her. People who would go that far in any conflict or struggle often make the best soldiers. It's like staring a lion in the face and hoping it won't take a swipe at your face.
My eyes then caught the looks on Sarah and Su's eyes as they watched on. Strangely, they were giggling, in an attempt to hold back a far greater fit of laughter. Wait, why would they be laughing? There wasn't that much that was funny about this, unless getting yelled at by Naru would be considered so. I then looked towards Kitsune. I then realised something was amiss. Her eyes were opened, and her cheeks carried a faint blush as she found the situation to be quite humorous as well.
What could those three possibly find funny about this? Something, I was wrong, I could feel it, but I couldn't pin it down. Ah, hell, I can figure out whatever goes wrong on the battlefield, but in a civilian area displaced over a century in the past and I'm stuck just wondering?
"Hey, Naru?"
"I'm a little busy, Kitsune!" Naru shouted in reply, without looking back at her friend.
"But, Naru…" Kitsune started, resisting the urge to laugh. "There's something you should know…"
"Not…now!"
"Come on Kitsune, let Naru be," I said, somewhat sarcastically. "As you can tell, we're trying to have a civilised argument over here."
"Oh, sure, you probably do want your argument to continue…" Sarah added with a peculiar tone of voice.
That caught my attention, as well as Naru's. What would Sarah mean by that?
"Naru? I don't know how to say this, but you're…" Kitsune tried to say, but was suddenly interrupted as Su came flying forward.
"You're butt naked, Naru!"
…wait-a-minute…what?!
I realised it the same time Naru did. She was, indeed, naked. Worse, she was standing in front of me, with every curve and every bit of her uncovered. Her towel was in a pile on the ground, located halfway between the still unconscious Keitaro and her. How the hell did Naru's towel suddenly fall off? I remembered back to when Naru hit Keitaro. He had taken a bow, when his face landed in Naru's chest and from there she hit him. Therefore, Naru's towel must have come off the moment Keitaro's face left her cleavage.
How the hell does that work?
It was the first answer to another pair of questions. First, how did I not notice Naru was naked? Well, come to think about it, the answer is quite obvious – the nanites. Suppressed sex drives meant having all natural responses towards nudity removed. Therefore, seeing a normal person was no different from seeing a naked person. That would take into account why I failed to notice why Naru was naked the entire time.
The next question – how the hell did Naru not notice she was naked? Was she so deep in our argument that she, too, did not notice her condition?
I suppose that was possible.
Just then, I heard a groan right next to me, followed my movement. Keitaro was slowly getting up. He had gotten up to his feet within moments, rubbing his back and his head. It didn't take long for me to realise what would eventually happen to him.
"Ugh, what happened? Did a truck hit me or something-ack!"
Keitaro's face turned several shades of red as his eyes looked upon the completely naked form of Naru. Unlike me and the colony of nanites that inhabited my body, Keitaro had no means of being able to control his responses. In fact, he had no means of being able to prevent his responses form overreacting, period. Hence, his flailing arms, his screams, and his shocked facial expression.
"What the…?!" Naru eventually caught on, much to her horror. She frantically tried to cover herself amidst her embarrassed blushing.
"No wait, Narusegawa!"
"Keitaro, you PERVERT!"
SMACK!
Naru sent one of her fists into Keitaro. The force of the impact sent Keitaro flying out of the changing room, smashing through several walls in the process, not to any surprise.
"Huh…" I looked towards the hole in the wall and tried to find the again unconscious form of Keitaro. I found myself in humour for a moment afterwards as my thought regarding this entered my head.
"I'm curious, is there is a pool running here? A 'how many times does Keitaro get hammered by Naru' sort of thing? If so, count me in. I may be stuck in the wrong time era, but I might as well make some money off of it."
"A pool, eh?" Kitsune said to herself, thinking over the idea. "That is brilliant."
"Yeah, being on my squad does have that effect," I replied. I then noticed again that Naru was still naked. I reached for the discarded towel and handed it to her. "Here you go, ma'am. Sorry it had to come to this."
Naru snatched the towel out of my hands and angrily put it back on.
"Sorry? Sorry?!" Motoko said as she jumped back into the game, her sword ready to strike. "Do you believe you can redeem yourself by just saying 'sorry'?!"
"That's it," Naru growled as she raised her fist yet again. "You…are…dead!"
Oh, boy, I didn't actually get out of this one in one piece. I slowly braced myself. If I was lucky, I shouldn't be injured that badly.
"Hold up, hold up…"
Kitsune squeezed by Naru and Motoko and stood herself between myself and them.
"Come on, I think we should let Sarge go."
"WHAT?!"
"WHAT?!"
"WHAT?!"
…
Funny, the last cry of disbelief actually came from me. I should have said something else. But still, I'll have to admit, Kitsune saving my life? What was going on? Was I being spared?
"Hey, don't worry, I think it was an honest mistake," Kitsune explained. "It's not Sarge's fault, at least. We should let him go."
"But…but…Kitsune-san!" Motoko tried to argue back. "He came in with Urashima and peeped on us!"
"Don't worry about it, I don't think Sarge meant it" Kitsune continued, much to my relief. It was quite interesting listening to Kitsune. I noticed in particular how she was calling me 'Sarge'. What was going on?
"I think he was here just to help out and clean, like the good, and well-disciplined soldier he is," Kitsune said, turning back to smile at me. She then directed me towards the door, much to Naru and Motoko's disagreement.
"Wait a second! Kitsune, you're not-?" Naru tried to talk to her foxy friend, but by then, Kitsune had pushed me out the door.
"Don't worry, Naru, I'll explain a bit. In the meantime, we should let Sarge go."
Naru stopped in her tracks, as did Motoko. I could tell they disagreed heavily with what Kitsune was suggesting and struggled to refrain themselves from attacking me. I looked back at everybody with a somewhat meek and reserved glance.
"Alright then. Well, have a good night everybody. I'm sorry things went foul like that. You won't see this out of me again."
The other residents remained silent at they looked back at me, not to my surprise.
"And you, Sarge," Kitsune then said. "You have a great night."
Kitsune smiled and winked at me as she closed the door. I was left starting at the door in complete confusion over what just happened. There was something about that look she gave me, something that shook me to my very core. There was something mischievous about it, yet something that warranted for my trust. I couldn't help but see the fox in new light. Then again, what was she implying? For what purpose did she decide to help me out?
My goodness, am I thinking too much about this?
I started to walk away from the entrance to the changing rooms, following the path that Keitaro had taken when he was hit by Naru. I found him crumbled in a pile, lodged somewhere between a wall and the floor. I wasn't sure if I should be surprised or not, but he was still breathing and certainly not dead. Christ, is this guy immortal or something? Does he have some sort of genetic mutation that allows him to survive an inordinate amount of punishment?
…
Again, I'm probably thinking way too much.
"Hey, wake up, jackass," I said to him as I stood him up. "Wake up."
Keitaro babbled for a bit, clearly not recovering as fast as I was hoping. Well, at least he was partially conscious. I could work with that. I heaved him over my shoulder and carried him off, heading for his room. I was done for the night. I suppose the least I could do is drop him off in his room and then head back to mine.
"Ugh…my head…what's going on? Sergeant-san, is that you?"
"Yes, it is," I replied. By now, I had reached and entered his room. I dropped him into his futon and made sure he was lying with his face up. I couldn't exactly plop him with his face pointed down and accidentally suffocate him, right?
Hell, can I even do that?
"Oh, and congratulations, Keitaro - you almost got the two of us murdered just moments ago," I said to him as I stood up and prepared to leave. "If I can offer any advice, please check the baths before you decide to enter, especially if it is me that's following you into them."
Much to my disappointment, he was already asleep. I'd have to tell him again probably tomorrow. If so, I would be willing to bet this won't be the last time today's incident occurred.
Seeing how there wasn't anything left for me to do, I went back to my room. Despite the unfurnished and empty look, it felt like home for me. It was probably because I had my gear stowed about the room, and to see that always reminded me of base camp. Sitting down on the futon, I reached for my weapons. It was a habit – I liked to check my weapons just before I slept. Much like how some people liked to read before they sleep, I field stripped my weapons, cleaned them, popped in a fresh magazine, and kept them ready for when I need them. As experience went, that was the proper thing to do.
My weapons checked out just fine. Setting them down beside me, I then curled up in the futon. I rested one hand on my sidearm and kept my rifle within arm's reach.
It's funny, actually. This whole situation reminds me of what happened before The War broke out. The Commonwealth ran various peacekeeping missions all throughout Europe and Asia, most of which I matured in. They were the same ones categorised under MOOTW, or military operations other than war. There was actually a significant amount of emphasis on the 'military operations' part of the acronym. Just because I was on a mission to give aid to a broken country, it didn't mean there were still hostiles somewhere out there just waiting to ambush the squads of Commonwealth soldiers. It never did hurt to be too careful.
I eventually drifted off to sleep. The sixth day had come to an end, and goodness knows what will happen on the seventh, the eighth, or however many other days I will remain here.
…yet another reason to keep my side arm's safety switched off.