(Once upon a time Susan Foster created a Sentinel sub-universe, in which civilization recognized and relied upon Guides and Sentinels . . . with very different results to the status of each. It is a terrifying universe, but very readable. And i couldn't help wondering . . . how would other characters adapt to that universe? I have Foster-sama's permission to explore the GDP universe, but this is in no wise authentic or recognized as part of it
In this particular splinter-reality of a splinter-reality, the status of Guides and Sentinels is different in the cultures influenced by China than in those derived from Europe. [All those centuries of respect for scholars!] For those who don't know (and might care) 'senpai' is a title for someone senior or more experienced than the speaker, 'chan' for a junior or someone so close that politeness doesn't matter. I don't think i used any other fan-girl Japanese, but please forgive me if i slip!
You probably guessed already that Clamp School Detectives, The Sentinel and Susan Foster's GDP Universe are not mine. I have borrowed a few lines of dialogue from one episode of Clamp School Detectives.)
Part 1: Prologue (Takamura Suoh)
One of the several hundred sunflowers planted alongside the path had been partly uprooted. The flower hadn't started to wither, but Suoh saw a slight limpness in the topmost leaves. He hated seeing bright things die. Gardening wasn't his skill, but he took the time to reset the sunflower's stem and tamp the earth around it. The flower was still strong. It should recover.
Coming along the path behind him, half a dozen girl students were crowded around the Imonoyama boy. A camera appeared, and Imonoyama Nokoru posed as if he were a television idol. It was embarassing, to see a boy of eight years so aware of his own charm. Suoh looked away.
Something was strange about Imonoyama Nokoru. The boy was far too pretty. Blonde hair and blue eyes and open friendliness guaranteed he would be the target of classroom bullies. He would never survive in a school that wasn't owned by his family.
Nokoru wasn't stupid though. Maybe his work for the Imonoyama electronics firm was family indulgence, but he held his own in college-level classes. Rumor said the American space program had been trying to hire him since he was six years old, and NASA wasn't an Imonoyama subsidiary. Not yet.
Ignoring the Imonoyama and his fans left Suoh vulnerable. A couple of the girls decided that two handsome boys were better than one. They were happy and energetic, pushing him into place beside their idol, and he couldn't bring himself to quash their spirits. The one carrying a camera backed away to snapshot range.
They would never have pursued Suoh alone. (And if they had, he would have evaded them early enough to avoid offense.) Only Nokoru attracted the universal attention of the Clamp Campus co-eds . . . from kindergarten right through college.
Suoh realized he had stared too long and hastily looked away. The camera clicked and buzzed. He thought the mob of female students would be disappointed with their photo, but he could feel only relief. What would they have seen on his face a moment earlier?
Imonoyama Nokoru wasn't isolated. Crowds surrounded him any time he was in public. Suoh was imagining things. He left as swiftly as possible, more swiftly than was really polite.
He knew his mother was concerned that he do well, after transferring to a new school in the middle of the year. Over tea she prodded him into mentioning Imonoyama-senpai, which was giving the boy too much attention. And then she distracted him with weapons practice -- at tea-time! Really, Mother was behaving very informally!
"You never know when in life you might encounter that person who will determine your destiny," she told him.
Why did adults say the same things over and over? Suoh knew he was a sentinel. He knew that every sentinel had to find a guide, and he would. Eventually. He was only seven. He wasn't going to tie himself to the spoilt lastborn son of a wealthy family, with no enemy but his own popularity.
His guide would be older. A lady who looked like his second-grade teacher, maybe, an heiress afraid of a hostile family and an avaricious world. Or a government official targeted by Chinese agents. Someone in such continual risk as to need not just a bodyguard, not just a sentinel, but a Takamura sentinel.
He put daydreams aside as he entered the practice area. A few minutes later the last of seven opponents raised his head from the mat.
"Suoh-chan is feeling very energetic today!"
The Elder said Suoh was advancing well (or at least didn't bring his staff down on Suoh's head, which came to the same thing). Preparing for bed, Suoh found all of the traps his family had left for him. He felt encouraged.
He had no classes with the other boy. Clamp Campus had over a thousand students and staff. Suoh didn't have to understand Nokoru, just avoid him.
It worked for most of the day. Suoh even left the campus by a different gate than usual. He was certain he'd gotten away safely, until a hand on his shoulder made him start. He couldn't remember the last time that anyone not a Takamura managed to sneak up on him!
He should have remembered that his opponent was an Imonoyama. Suoh's training meant he could hardly be unaware of the campus security systems. Perhaps it was strange that an eight-year-old would have access to them, but Suoh knew his own abilities too well to doubt another's.
He could not refuse his senpai's request for a few minutes of time. He followed the older boy to the nearby park, accepted a popsicle as if he could be bribed with sweets like some undisciplined child. Sentinel taste made most treats unbearable.
"I know you're not much of a sweet-tooth. It's okay. The 'Sleet' popsicle is delicious without being too sugary," Imonoyama-senpai said, and went to greet a flock of birds.
How did he know what Suoh's tastes were? Worse still, he was right. The flavor of the ice had subtleties a sentinel could appreciate.
The birds gathered about the youngest Imonoyama as eagerly as the girl students had. Finally Suoh realized what intelligence and luck and the capacity to persuade added up to. This Imonoyama was a guide.
It made him one of the very few people in Japan, or the world, of whom Suoh had reason to be wary. Nokoru had sought him out, offered him attention and refreshment, but neither the Imonoyamas nor the Takamuras had been notified of his intent. That did not look well. Suoh left the barely-tasted popsicle in a trash bin as he walked away.
Several dark-suited men hurried into the park as he came out. It wasn't surprising that an Imonoyama -- even a young and unimportant one -- had bodyguards. They were badly trained, to have lost track of the boy for so long!
At tea that afternoon Suoh was still trying to find the words for what he'd guessed, when his mother was called away by a house servant. She returned with another woman, Imonoyama-sama, who was the Chair of the Clamp Campus.
Suoh told her all he knew of the dark-suited men, who were not Imonoyama guards after all. Before she left he bowed to her.
"One who has failed in his duty as a sentinel and a Takamura makes no claim to the shelter of this house. As ronin, therefore, this one pledges that Imonoyama Nokoru will return to you."
His mother, the head of Takamura, covered her mouth as if to hide amusement. Her other hand brushed the side of the tatami mat.
"Assuredly your record as a Takamura is ended. But why do you think you will be allowed to leave this house?"
"Takamura-san! (He rolled to avoid a flight of darts from the wall.) I am (leapt above spear points thrust from under the floor) the best of my generation."
Just after he reached the door, an explosion left a small charred circle there. Shouts and cries receded toward the front gate.
"Should I wish him luck?" the Imonoyama asked.
"Luck is the province of a guide, surely. That one who has no family, yet he has skill."
"Then may it happen that both our sons will return to us."