Author's note: I had originally planned for "Asako" to be the name of Iku's best friend, but later changed it to "Minako" when I realized Asako is Shibasaki's first name. Sorry for the confusion!

-Kero

Chapter 1: Hard Rock

Iku crouched down behind the fortified barrier as bullets whizzed by overhead and embedded themselves into the stone barricade behind her. Like many of the members in her platoon, she was unable to reach the front doors of the community center where the goal, a collection of controversial short stories and anecdotes, lie waiting for them to retrieve. The author, who recently passed away, had bequeathed the only complete set of his works to his local community center. Having heard this from the author's lawyer, the community center immediately called the Kanto Library and the Library Defense Force. Somehow, the information about this collection, rare since the MBC had destroyed most of the existing books not in private collectors' hands, leaked to the public. Naturally, the rarity of the books meant they held considerable monetary value, which was a newsworthy subject. Anticipating a confrontation with the MBC, the Kanto Library Defense Force deployed two fully armed mixed platoons of Task Force members and ordinary Defense Force members of 16 soldiers each. Iku's squad was among them, with Officer Doujo in command of her platoon.

Though they had left the base in the middle of the night at a time arranged by the author's lawyer and the community center, they were ambushed.

"We may have a mole among our ranks," said Doujo in a low growl before cursing under his breath.

"Let's worry about that later," said Komaki between gritted teeth as a bullet nicked a sandbag in the barricade and sent a spray of sand into his face. "Tezuka! Do something about that stray sniper!"

Like a stealthy cat, Tezuka donned his night vision goggles and snuck away somewhere. A few moment's later, Tezuka's rifle shot once, and Iku heard the sound of someone falling from a high perch accompanied by a small cry. Most likely, he was only wounded as many of these conflicts caused injuries and only sometimes death. Iku wondered what the point of it was, since many of their conflicts were like an intricate chess game with rules she barely understood. The battles were waged in public places such as these as well as behind closed doors in political arenas. The two opposing sides were caught up in a tide that ebbed and flowed equally, sometimes accompanied by give-and-take etiquette, sometimes accompanied by brute force. It was mind boggling for someone of Iku's mental capacity and yet here she was, in the thick of it all. Because she loved books. Because she loved...

"Can you all cover me?" Iku asked in a low voice into her helmet's communication mike.

"Don't you dare-" started Doujo angrily.

"I'm the fastest one here," she insisted. "This exchange is getting us nowhere."

"She's right," sighed Komaki. "We lose the element of darkness once the sun comes up in fifteen minutes We only have that much time left before we have to abandon everything. The center opens at 6 a.m."

"Fine," said Doujo reluctantly. "But-" She couldn't read the expression on his face but she didn't have time to think too hard on it.

"I'm going," she said, cutting him off. It was a matter of seconds between the moment Iku crouched down and took off her gear except for her bullet proof vest and the moment she rammed her shoulder into the revolving glass door of the community center. From experience, she learned to lean into glass doors with her shoulders as opposed to her face at times like these. She knew that once she reached the center, firing at her would be off limits as the MBC and the LDF were only allowed to shoot at one another, and not civilians or civilian buildings.

"Bring the armored truck to the back," ordered Doujo as he made plans for Iku's escape. It never ceased to amaze anyone in the Defense Force how "that girl" could fly. She had acquired quite the reputation as the only female Task Force member. Much to her chagrin, she knew that her legs also had a fan club among the Defense Force. If there was one thing she was really good at, it was definitely running. Sprinting in particular was her forte. Iku's high school nickname came to mind as she pushed past the entry and nearly collided with the anxious lawyer and the center's frightened staff members.

Just as they handed over the duffel of books, Iku winced and her right leg gave out from under her. The staff members rushed to her side and asked her if she had been shot. Partly in shock, Iku felt the damp spot on her fatigues and realized that she was bleeding. The lawyer offered his scarf and she used it to tie a tight tourniquet around her thigh.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She hadn't counted on being shot. Iku had no time to see if the wound was serious. Her digital watch told her she had less than ten minutes to escape the premises. She slung the duffel over one shoulder and called in for her armored back up to meet her at the west entrance, which Tezuka and another sniper had recently secured. If anything, she knew that she could count on her team mates, and that gave her peace of mind no matter what crazy stunt she was about to pull. She knew she would get an earful from him as soon as they returned, though.

But it wasn't until she threw herself into the back of the armored vehicle and she heard the report that the platoons were in retreat with no casualties that she let herself breathe a sigh of relief.

-0-0-0-

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" her commanding officer shouted at her. "Who do you think you are? Sonic? The Flash? Why the hell can't you wait for instructions?" He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and thought about yelling some more until he saw the wound on her leg. It was an unflattering gash on her thigh caused by a grazing bullet and powder burn. After she obtained first aid, she made sure the restricted books had been properly categorized in their database. Then she was questioned briefly by Captain Genda and afterward spent the rest of the day filling out her incident report while resting at the medical station. By the time Doujo came around to lecture her, the sun was about to go down.

"No running for a while," instructed the base surgeon.

"How long?" Iku asked tentatively.

"A month, to be safe," he recommended. "Use this cream to minimize the scarring. You're lucky you don't need stitches, that would've been a real tragedy on those legs of yours." She looked at him curiously and wondered if he was a member of that previously mentioned "fan club." Iku glanced at Doujo and saw he was giving the surgeon a dark look.

"From a purely aesthetic point of view, of course," said the surgeon chuckling nervously as he felt that perhaps Doujo might snap him in two for saying something impolite to her.

"But a whole month?" she complained. "What if we're called back on another field assignment? How am I supposed to-"

"It just means you won't be going," said Doujo, cutting her off. His word was final. "This will teach you to be so reckless. Unless your'e trying to," he paused before uttering the words 'give me a heart attack' and settled for "get yourself shot again."

She looked up at him defiantly. "The job got done."

"Why must you do things so recklessly?" he demanded, his tone almost pleading. "Where does this reckless streak of yours come from? I've met both your parents and they are about as mild mannered as soybean farmers. Were you adopted?" Iku ignored his sarcasm.

"But if I can't run," she stopped short of saying 'How can I be of use to you?' and settled for "what good am I?"

As she looked down on the ground, she felt that familiar hand on her head. She looked up and saw him smile one of those rare, endearing smiles at her that almost crossed the line between instructor and pupil, or superior and subordinate.

"You have plenty of other uses," he said in an uncharacteristic gentle tone. It was times like these that Iku loved the most about working with her superior officer, and perhaps the times she was most confused about what to do next. Perhaps he felt some of that confusion as well as he realized they were not alone and he wondered if he had crossed a line somewhere. He coughed to clear his throat and the smile faded into an uncomfortable, nervous expression.

"I'll leave you to it, then," he nodded to the surgeon and headed for the door. "Make good use of our days off to recuperate. Since your mobility is limited, you'll be doing mostly library work when we're back on duty until you're feeling better," he called over his shoulder.

"But I feel fine-" she started.

"That's an order," he commanded, before leaving.

"Yes sir," she answered unenthusiastically. Again, she felt that invisible barrier of superior and subordinate, widening the distance between them. His departure left her feeling more glum than when he was angry with her. Starting from now, she would have two days off to think about how glum she was.

"Just great," sighed Iku to herself.

Iku's phone beeped to alert her to a text message. She pulled it out of her pocket and flipped it open.

Ok 2 call? - Seiji

Bad day. Not now. - Iku

Off duty yet? - Seiji

Yes, y? - Iku

B ready in 20. ;-p - Seiji

Iku sighed. There was no convincing him otherwise if he set his mind on something. Iku knew him well enough to know that. The fact that her friend had actually taken the reins of his family's business successfully made him more incorrigible. He had grown into a rather flamboyant playboy with the confidence of a snotty prince, exactly the opposite of what his parents wanted him to be when they exiled him to Iku's hometown as the "pauper prince."

After being firmly bandaged she left for the dorms and rummaged through her closet for something suitable to wear. Knowing him, Seiji would taunt her for dressing like some androgynous person, which was fine for Iku's tastes, but probably inappropriate for wherever they were going. Her roommate eyed her suspiciously.

"With whom are you going out?" asked Shibasaki.

"It's not what you think. Can I borrow your sweater? You know, the one with the girly chiffon flower?"

"The fact that you call it 'girly' demeans it. But yes, you may," commented her roommate nonchalantly as she brushed scented oil through her clean, damp hair. "I take it you won't be eating in the commons tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I probably won't be back until late," answered Iku.

"What's up with you today? Is this about your getting shot?" asked Shibasaki, indicating towards her bandaged leg.

"Maybe," moped Iku cryptically. Her roommate shrugged and continued her detailed beauty ministrations by the mirror.

"Don't get knocked up or anything," said Shibasaki as Iku stepped out. She turned beet red.

"It's not like that!" she said in exasperation before closing the door, loudly.

"What the hell is she thinking?" muttered Iku to herself as she slung her purse strap over a shoulder. Though she didn't own much that was expensive, her canvas purse was a name brand item, the only one she owned, gifted to her as a birthday present from her oldest brother. It seemed everyone she knew lamented that she didn't dress like a girl more often.

Just as Iku stepped out of the women's dorm she didn't notice Doujo and Komaki approaching the entry way to the men's dorm a few yards away. She ignored the cat calls from a few fellow Defense Force members who happened to spot her. Just then, the screeching tires of a silver Mercedes S class convertible barreling down the drive toward Iku echoed through the courtyard. The car stopped impressively right in front of her and Seiji reached over and opened the passenger door for her from the driver's seat.

"My God, you actually look like a girl," was the first thing her friend thought to say to her after they had not seen one another since their university days. Dressed in a lilac merino wool sweater with the aforementioned chiffon flower adornment, as well as a black skirt and black strapped sandals, the only thing out of place was the hint of bandage wrapped around her right thigh.

"Here I thought you might actually meet me in combat boots and fatigues," he laughed.

Iku rolled her eyes. "Shut up," was the only retort Iku had for her long time friend. She glanced at his car. "Who did you have to rob to buy this? Could you be any more conspicuous?"

"What's the point of having money if you don't flaunt it a little? I thought I wanted to be more like James Bond, or something."

"Moron. James Bond drove Aston Martins," retorted Iku.

"Well, where to?" asked Seiji as Iku settled in the passenger seat. Iku sighed and recalled her very long day. The adrenaline rush had left her long ago and she was feeling the brunt of the after effects of the day's ordeals.

"Ocean," was her only sullen response.

"My, you must really be between a rock and a hard place," commented Seiji. Iku gave no reply and leaned her head back on the head rest.

"Roger that," he added, turning on the sound system to blast a trendy, hard rock beat, before he revved the engine and peeled out of the courtyard like a F1 racer.

Author's note: So all this time I was wondering, What if Iku had other possibilities? I mean following after the same guy for 6+ years takes dedication, but what if she started to doubt herself a little bit? What if Doujo had some competition? That's what was going through my mind when I wrote this. I wanted to give Iku a little more dimension.

-Kero