An Author's Note about one of the plotlines follows this chapter.
Chapter Three - The Sempai Of My Sempais Is My…
AUGUST 15TH, 1945, THE TERRITORIAL WATERS OF THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN
Men clever enough to outwit American civilian and naval commanders (and, it was said by some, even the venerable Yamamoto himself) were in the end unable to outwit the man they touted as a living god but used mainly as a figurehead. Whether it was for the sake of resources, living space, naked raw aggression or an ideology based on racial supremacy, the war started in the name of Emperor Hirohito was called to a halt by him, under terms that guaranteed nothing, not even the integrity of his throne, to the people of the defeated Japanese Empire. His men were reportedly surrendering in some cases personally to an American General whose style ruffled some of his countrymen's feathers, but which the Japanese people understood and would greatly appreciate.
This order was not issued in time to stop one last small wave of pilots from initiating the morale-raising but militarily worthless attacks known as kamikaze. The last recorded attack had in fact occurred the day before. This one would go largely unrecorded.
This all occurred in less than five minutes before the eyes of Awa Urashima, who felt he was destined to be one of those pilots entering Heaven in his divine Emperor's name, all while sending the American would-be invaders to Hell.
Heaven had other ideas.
The wind that was supposed to guide him straight into one of the American vessels strutting arrogantly into the waters of his homeland instead fought him every step of the way. In each pass, he would catch sight of a ship, and before it even had a chance to fire at him, Urashima would find himself blown off course. The planes had been stripped of radios, but the pilots had been taught to return if no viable target presented itself. Only on extreme occasions had the lack of a target been challenged by superiors. But Awa Urashima was determined that there would not even be a hint of a whisper of loose talk about him, so returning was not an option.
Around him, the lack of experience and the war-weariness of the young pilots was proving telling. Fudo's plane was cut in two by gunners now used to these suicidal runs. Kusama attempted an ascent far too steep for his plane, burdened by explosives, to tolerate. One fool found the open sea and nothing more. One learned the hard way why smokestacks and not the big guns were preferred targets. One ignited into a fireball that somehow flew just above the highest point on an aircraft carrier, with not even its debris reaching the decks below, and burning out just shy of reaching the water.
Urashima had not thought highly of his compatriots, and that was an understatement. Yet something very like sympathy nearly stirred in him to see their attempts fail so completely. In most men, this would at least be a moment to gather or lose resolve. But Awa Urashima was not like most men. For at all times to all things, he was a complete asshole.
"If there is a god for supreme Baka, let them all go there with him. Let neither Heaven nor Hell be burdened with their clumsy load."
And for those who think all men, or even all Humans, are always this way, let the following words firmly establish Awa in a unique light.
"And again I say to The Divine Wind—get out of my way or face my curse!"
The winds buffeting him ceased, and his vision sharpened to that of a hawk's. Before him, two vessels seeking to avoid his fallen comrades had maneuvered themselves close enough to be side by side, the report of their guns holding off another wave of planes, should they come. To make matters perfect, Urashima spied men on both ships carrying ammunition to reload the large batteries. Urashima saw the opening their combined firepower left, and moved swiftly to a point where his crash would strike at both crews and the ammo they moved. He could take out two ships at once, and move into a hall of legends. He imagined children would sing of Urashima, who saved the war the weak-willed thought lost.
"Banzai!"
The descent seemed to move in slow motion. The ships below, whose near intersection had only been brief, did not move quite so slowly. The opening Urashima saw widened to a gap, and then into a valley, relatively speaking.
"I—will—not—be—denied!"
Several laws of physics did not at all agree with Urashima's boast. He would become known as a man who had two large ships side by side, with exposed piles of volatile ammunition also in the strike zone, who in the end could not hit either one. His frantic attempts to control his plane's angle of descent only gave him a picture-perfect water landing—and the American sailors were taking lots of pictures that day. Urashima's belts, which tore during the rapid descent, were unable to help him as he bounced around in the cockpit on impact.
*You will be denied, willful one—and I will not be cursed. The others threw their lives away, but they were respectful as they passed. You dishonor them, and me. Heaven is denied you, as is Hell, which has no time to torment mere boasters. Awa Urashima, you are a foolish little man, with your prideful certainty. I curse you with a gift some mortals plead for, but you are not capable of seeing it as such. So as you are scorned and mocked, you will pray for sleep, but sleep won't come. Not the sleep that lasts for hours, but the sleep you truly desire.*
He awoke from this awful dream to hear a voice speaking English. Their culture was decadent, but some few American films were worth his time, so Urashima had learned the language.
"He broke every bone in his body?"
"Damned near to it. No one can even figure how it is he's alive."
Urashima heard a click.
"That can be seen to."
"I sympathize, Sergeant. But no less than Big Mac has an interest in this fella."
Mac? Mac—Arthur?
*Did I somehow achieve my goal, and now their great general wishes to use me as part of a prisoner exchange, so venerated am I in the homeland? To be alive, yet having shown the willingness to sacrifice all? The scorn of the ladies will turn to adoration, soon. Some back in my village may be required to show their devotion more than others.*
A baka and his pipe dream are soon parted.
"Yep. He wants this poor jerk to be on the aircraft carrier when he takes Hirohito's surrender. A sign to anybody in Japan who might still think resistance is a good idea. This fool is a living symbol of the futility of suicide runs, on foot or in the sky."
The doctor left, and only the soldier who didn't seem happy with guarding a helpless prisoner remained.
"You have got to be the biggest, unluckiest non-commissioned jerk-hole in this entire war, and I mean both theaters, and I have known some of the very biggest. You must have pissed off God himself, my friend, because we thought sure we were all goners when you made your descent. Where two ships that big found the speed to get apart like that, I'll never know."
Sam McDougal could not know that his unwilling guest was perfectly capable of understanding him, and yet still could not hear him. For along with pounds of plaster and bandages, Awa Urashima was now wrapped in enough shame to burst his heart like a balloon.
In fact, it did this on several occasions, but still he would not die.
In another place, the head nurse had taken ill, and lay down to die. Some said it was the lingering sickness from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Those who had been her obedient staff would not come near her. In part this was fear of the radiation and the illness it caused. In part this was payback for one who had shown no humanity towards those she only slightly outranked.
But there was one who would not leave her side.
"Drink this, Sempai."
"I—cannot see. I was fine not so long ago."
"Sempai merely needs to rest. To regain her strength."
"No. I swore to Kami to invest the worth of my soul in this overlong war, and that is coming called due with its end. Who is it that attends me?"
"It is Hinata, Sempai. Do you wish me to go?"
The once-proud woman coughed.
"Go? And have me die alone? I am not that proud, child. In fact, right now, I am very scared. Why do you attend me, when I have called you cursed?"
"Because Sempai came to get me and the others out of the dead cities. That is why Sempai is sick now."
"But you are not sick?"
"I—do not get sick, Sempai."
The nurse reached out and touched Hinata's cheek.
"Because-you are cursed, aren't you?"
"Hai."
"Yet you are here and now my blessing. Is there no one for you, then? Would they die to be near you?"
Hinata shook her head.
"My curse does not bring death to me, Sempai. It brings me to death."
A wild thought struck the dying woman.
"How old—are you?"
Hinata looked around her. They were alone.
"Much of it is a blur. I recall a noisy bombardment the Americans made…"
The nurse almost laughed.
"They have done quite a bit of that."
"Hai. But at that time, they were led by a man named Perry."
The nurse coughed again loudly, but not from her illness.
"That was almost ninety years ago!"
The worst part was, it made sense. None of the family names she had given checked out, and even the insanity of war could not account for the wholesale erasure of tens of clans.
"My clan kept me, or at least made sure there was always a place for me to stay. That never lasts more than a few years. I am often sent away to wander, but I befriended some fox-spirits by helping them evade hunters and trappers, so I always have food. I am strong and have served warriors who taught me their ways as a reward for my obedience. I have kept my maidenhood pure—not that this has always been an easy thing. This occurred just as I first began to see boys as something other than hairy girls with extra parts."
The nurse felt her own time coming, and so asked the most obvious question her mind could still muster.
"Why are you cursed?"
"My apologies, Sempai. I am not permitted to say this, unless to someone like myself. I would not wish to curse you now, as you seek Heaven and your just rest."
The hand of one passing squeezed the hand of one who probably wished to.
"You are a hidden treasure, to be kind rather than embittered after too long a journey. One day, you will see me again, and I will guide you to another hidden treasure. Hai?"
"Hai, Sempai. Arigato. Sempai?"
Hinata walked towards the other nurses, more attendant to who among them would be the late head nurse's replacement than their patients.
"She is gone. We must bury her."
Behind what she now thought of as her desk, one of the prime candidates shrugged.
"Burn her glowing carcass and be done with it. I say…"
Hinata rose up and smashed the desk to splinters. The others shuddered to see this. She looked around at them.
"Get your lazy fat asses to work or I will treat you as I did that piece of furniture. Now take our fallen Sempai, who was a good if difficult woman, and bury her properly—and there better be a cleric to cant prayers over her grave! The rest of you—do the work of sworn healers or face me in the field outside!"
When they had scattered and at last begun to do their jobs once more, a voice came from behind Hinata.
"I never liked that desk. I don't like giving people who must work so obvious place to sit down in front of their wounded charges. It would seem that we have found our new head nurse."
The hospital administrator, a man once scorned by his family for seeking this title when a war was on, smiled at the girl whose partial story he had overheard on his way to pay her predecessor his respects. He was very much in earnest. Hinata picked up a pack of cigarettes from the remains of the smashed desk, lit it, and placed one in her mouth. It wasn't like it could stunt her growth, after all.
"So it would seem, Manager-San."
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001
PRIVATE JOURNAL, SHINOBU URASHIMA
The young woman stopped and smiled before crossing it out—as she did every single day.
"Okay, okay…I know."
PRIVATE JOURNAL, SHINOBU MAEHARA—DARN IT ALL
I don't know why I do that to myself. I sometimes realize that I'm lucky Sempai Naru isn't the type to forbid him to have female friends. That I couldn't do without. I still recall just after Sempais got serious about each other, and Kei found me rifling through his-collection of art and photos. Yeah, it was his porn stash. He was flabbergasted, but when I asked him to swallow his sense of place and just recommend some to me, he finally did what none of the other girls' would—explain the sometimes twisted logic those magazines and videos use. Mind you, he strained to keep it all in euphemism mode, but thoroughly so. Really, the logic is a simple one, but for me he tried his best. That was what I really asked of him, and he gave it. He got his revenge, though. The final magazine he gave me featured a young man and a younger girl who made their connection when she asked him to recommend some porn. I had to laugh, because it meant to my mind that he took me seriously. In fact, it was maybe that knowledge that made me join the others in acting like an ass just before and to some extent, inside Molmol. How could it be that he took me seriously but wouldn't take me, period? That made me angry, and being that angry made me a little crazy. Or maybe a lot crazy.
Small wonder Sempai Kei and I get on like we do. We both make these grandiose efforts to stand tall before the others. Until recently, his efforts at such were callously dismissed—while mine were sweetly and amusedly dismissed. Ohhh—every time—and I mean every time I try and act all sophisticated, I only end up making myself look even more like a foolish little girl. The incidents are actually very few, but I always make sure they're memorable.
When I brought a boy I liked home, I thought the others would envy me, since I seemed to be the first one who actually had one come in to say hello, as opposed to just picking one of us up and later running for cover—apologies to Kitsune—I mean Mitsu—and Sempai Naru, but that happened more than once. That boy was Kenichi, the idiot whose second appearance almost ruined last Tuesday. Not that the first appearance wasn't scarring. I think I cried for weeks every second that I was not in school.
I may still be naïve, but when a guy has his thing squeezed by a nearsighted naked pretty girl, his being stunned stupid by this doesn't seem so hard to understand. That was how we all first met Sempai Kei, for the most part. I was stunned by seeing it that night—mainly because you are supposed to be stunned. That's what everyone tells you. You're a young girl. If he flashes it, you're supposed to be offended. I considered all that well after the fact. At the time, the others—and forgive me, sometimes the phrase 'psycho witches' does apply—seemed to want to gut this poor shaking wreck of a man all for resolving one of life's mysteries for me. I mean, I didn't get pregnant from looking at it, nor did my mother teleport in and demand we marry, and to my knowledge, tribes of yokai and oni didn't suddenly assault the Inn. I honestly thought they might kill him (not realizing the mere presence of a man was shaking them up worse than it ever could have for me), so I tried to act all sophisticated, and said I barely saw anything, because it was so brief-and small. What I had meant to try and say was, that wasn't my first sighting, and I'd seen all kinds of boys and men and their privates, and it was all no big deal. The only thing my words did was crush him further, to the point the others left him alone out of pity.
Then there was the beach. I was the 'sacrifice' meant to raise his fallen spirits. I was to pretend to be out cold while he gave me mouth to mouth. Instead, my nerves seized up and I gave him foot to crotch. Is that when he gave up on me, I wonder? Did he love me up till then, when he realized this stupid little girl was too jumpy to be worth it?
At least I only got blasted drunk on our dinner date. As Sempai Naru gave me a hangover remedy the next day, I asked if there was any possibility that Sempai Kei and I had done it while I was out. Mind you, this was the same woman who at that time still regularly clobbered him. But when I asked that, she nearly clobbered me. Looking back, I understand what kind of Baka-Prime question that really was. But then she calmed down—probably because someone so silly and stupid could no longer be considered a threat.
Molmol I out and out forgive myself for. I did stupid things on the way and while there, but that was mainly the work of three other people ; Su, Mitsune and O-Sempai Seta. Dragging me into that insanity when I was insane with love-grief cannot be laid at my feet.
I still managed to strike out on my own when Sempai Kei and I had dinner at Alice-San's Johnny Rocket's. After proclaiming my intention to be his mistress, I symbolically seized his hot dog from the tray and wiped the mustard from my mouth after taking a big bite—smiling all the while. As Sempai tried to tell me-the girls and guys in his ecchi videos behave in ways that would get them all locked up in real life. In my case, locked up for worst supporting performance.
I'll stop writing for now. I'm expecting an early call from Papa, and I have to resolve a lingering doubt from my all-grown-up wannabe performance last Tuesday. I hope I can. Because if I intend to remain close to my sempais, then that means also dealing on a regular basis with their oldest friend. I only hope, after what I've heard, she can still be one of mine.
Having a rack like hers wouldn't hurt, either.
"Hate you? Shinobu, never!"
"But—Sempai Naru said you were really upset with me last week."
Mutsumi chuckled.
"We all were-and now we're not. You let worrying over that dinner date get to you, and you weren't acting like yourself."
Shinobu still looked and felt worried.
"But didn't you also say I got off easy, as regards my part in Molmol?"
Mutsumi glanced at her watch, and then sat down with Shinobu.
"The only thing I ever really resented you for was based on the fact that I was suspicious of some of your past crying jags."
"Huh? How so?"
Mutsumi shrugged.
"You never hit Kei until recently, and then only twice before swearing not to again. But you had to know at some point that your running off crying about some action of his was going to get him swatted by the others. I kind of got the impression that, while you would never want to hit him yourself, you were content to see him punished by the others, knowing on some level that you could make it happen."
Shinobu's head swam for a moment.
"Am I that devious?"
"No, silly—not actively. But I was, before things changed, on the verge of telling you that. And do you know why?"
"To stop Sempai Kei from getting hit because of me?"
Mutsumi shrugged.
"Only in part. I saw early on that they were a determined lot, and sweet Kei just couldn't keep his face out of our chests, could he? But the other part, Shinobu, was for you."
"For me?"
Mutsumi glanced again at her watch.
"Remember, I wasn't around when you were brand-new here. By the time we met, I didn't see a baby. I saw the only woman here who didn't know Kei from that sandbox who had a real chance at nabbing him. I saw the woman strong enough to cook and clean for all of us, and sometimes, the only joy in my Kei's existence. I see so much of him in you."
Their eyes met, and Mutsumi chuckled again.
"Yeah-poor choice of phrase. But then, I am a bit awkward. Shinobu, I refuse to baby you, not out of some contempt, but out of deepest respect. Naru sees it too. If she ever lets that temper of hers get out of control again, she knows there are two people he would seek out in a heartbeat, and either of whom could have him in that same heartbeat. I refuse to go easy on you out of that same respect. I refuse to baby you—because I don't see a baby here."
JOURNAL
Okay. I officially love her. And maybe in that light, even last Tuesday's debacle can be seen in a good light. If I can get everyone—even Sempais-that upset with me—then maybe my days of being simply sweet little Shinobu are done. I can actually see myself ending up like Sempai Naru was three years ago-ummm—I mean confidence-wise. I doubt Arlo-San is immortal.
But Kami pleaaaaase give me some Otohime DNA. You know the kind.
Everyone's gone for the day super-early. All three of our Todai entrants are in class, which is unusual. Mitsu's making the rounds of some contractors, getting prices and probably more ideas about the Sou. Motoko is taking a round of cram classes almost all day—I just know she's gonna be next in. Su is registering with various government officials, and has to take some oaths to not try and overthrow the Emperor, The Prime Minister and the Diet while she is a resident in Japan.
But then the call comes.
The connection on the phone-line was shaky, to say the least.
"Papa?"
"Shinobu-have to get-resolve this-can't keep the adoption a secret from you anymore-it doesn't matter-love you. Have to g-"
Shinobu had spoken to her father for all of fifteen seconds. Her connection to reality was shaky, to say the least.
JOURNAL
I need my Sempais, but they are not here. I need my parents in residence to help me deal with the bombshell my Oto-San just dropped.
In an automatic mode, I make the dinner for tonight, like a living food processor. Arlo-San has promised not to bring his own cooking-though it is pretty darn good, and makes him all the cuter to me-and Mutsumi's not-jerk brother will also be there, much to Motoko's reserved but visible delight.
I'm-adopted? But I look so much like my pare-No, I must drive that thought out. I can't handle it right now. Right now, even the painful distraction that was Mitsune's photo of my Sempais doing it would be welcome. I just can't be-shut it down, Maehara-if that is my name. Shinobu-deriving from 'hidden'. Was that a joke on your part, Fath-Maehara-San?
I know my own weaknesses. If I allow this to destroy me, on top of my recent reactions to losing out to Sempai Naru, I will never recover. Besides, my Sempais adopted me too. Maybe I am just someone people like to take in and take care of. There are worse ways to be.
That just leaves me to get my butt to school. I hope my friend Amy is there. She calls me her lifeline on Japanese culture since she moved here—she's waiting on her folks, who are big wheels in the financial community in the States, to join her. By answering her questions, I hope to avoid asking too many of my own.
It just *can't* be true.
"So is the Sempai Clan powerful and all?"
Shinobu stared blankly before catching on. Amy's Japanese was quite good, but her New England accent meant a nasal sound was injected into the mix that had to be accounted for.
"Baka-Sempai is not a clan. His clan name is Urashima. Sempai is just what I call him."
"Oh. Sorry. Is that like Only-Chan-oh, I'm such a goof!"
"You are not none neither—to coin a phrase. You're in a new place, and you're trying to learn its ways. A Sempai is like this, Amy-San : A sempai is another parent. A sempai is a sibling. A sempai is devotion that is freely chosen, yet at times binds you even more than the familial devotion you are born to, and pray the two should never come into conflict. If one of you is about to be struck by a car, you and your sempai should fight it out over who saves who. A sempai is all things to you, and you should expect to be all things to them, always."
"Wow, good explanation, Maehara-s-err—Shinobu-ch—ummmm-what do I call you?"
"Shinobu's fine. I mean, the honorific system hits us too. We understand it, but there's a bunch of ways to say the exact same thing-kind of like the Eskimos have different words for snow."
"Aleuts, Shinobu-I learned that the hard way."
A voice from behind Shinobu boomed out.
"I would have expected that my students' student would know that, Maehara-Chan."
Amy's eyes went wide, along with the eyes of nearly every girl—and not a few of the boys—present in the schoolyard. Shinobu turned and gulped at the sight of the imposing figure.
"O-Sempai Seta!"
She got up immediately from and bowed. Amy whispered a question.
"Who..?"
"Noriyasu Seta—my sempai's sempai."
"Which sempai?"
"Both of them!"
"So he's like a twice-over Grandfather?"
Seta smiled and winked an eye at Amy.
"Better not say that in front of my wife, kid. Implications, you know."
"His wife?"
Shinobu was getting nervous, but tried to be traditionally nervous.
"His wife is my Sempai's aunt, and the former Ryobo—House Mother—at our dorm."
"Wow—I may not be Japanese, but I know that's a lot of deep connections."
Seta was suddenly talking to Shinobu's homeroom teacher, who squealed in front of him and hugged the stuffings out of him.
"Yes, it is. And while I will obey his wish, whatever it is, I dread it."
"Why? Is he some kind of Ickey guy?"
"Ummm—you mean Ecchi, right—but more like you mean pervert? No, he's not that at all."
The sound of his laughter boomed across the yard. Shinobu grimaced.
"He's just a giant goofball."
JOURNAL
No, that wasn't the emergence of 'Dark Shinobu'. I like O-Sempai. He is funny, and three people I love think the world of him. Since he kind of looks like an older Sempai Kei, I can't fault him on his looks. It's just—it's like every last thing that I do not like about Sempai Kei is magnified in this man, except no one calls him out on it-they even praise him for the same basic things that used to get my Kei so much trouble.
Maybe that's not fair or accurate. Maybe it's just that, with the identity of my parents in doubt, I can't deal with a surrogate 'grandfather' at this time. Yet I have no choice.
Noriyasu Seta is O-Sempai, twice over. If I ever refused him, I think I might even have to leave Japan.
Shinobu's teacher chastised her.
"Maehara-Chan! Shame on you for not revealing that Seta-Sama is your O-Sempai and Obi-San. Half the instructors here took classes from this great man."
Seta chuckled.
"Actually, Taehara-Kun? She just calls my wife Auntie. She's never called me Uncle."
"Well, she SHOULD!"
Shinobu winced, but spoke anyway.
"Sensei? Shouldn't I get to class before the bell rings?"
The teacher handed her a piece of paper.
"Amy-San will deliver your homework for this week to the Hinata-Sou. Good luck in aiding Seta-Sama, Maehara-Chan. You have our envy."
Shinobu stared at the pass from school in utter shock.
"Just like that? Was the principal one of your students, too, O-Sempai?"
"Hooo-no. He was one of my housemates. He cheated off me to pass History."
His look turned serious.
"Shinobu, I need your help. She's probably scared, and seeing your friendly face if and when we find her, will likely calm her down better than I could alone."
"Calm down-who?"
Seta laughed again.
"Fu-didn't I mention? This morning on Paraklese Island, someone kidnapped Nyamo. We believe the abductor is gonna set down in Tokyo about Noon. Are you in?"
"To rescue her?"
"That—and I believe you may be in a unique position to talk the abductor down."
Before Shinobu could ask the question that answer inspired, Seta moved like lightning for the road just outside the school, and Shinobu became very very afraid.
"O-Sempai—are you driving us there?"
She hoped and prayed the answer was no. Launchpad McQuack frankly had a better record at handling motion crafts.
"No time-we're hopping a ride on-"
Seta pointed at a giant pink mechanical turtle.
"MECHA-SAMA SUPER X 4!"
Shinobu felt her entire body reverberating from his proclamation.
"Why did you shout like that?"
"I shouted?"
At the wheel of MSSX4 was as grizzled an old man as Shinobu had ever seen, wearing a fedora hat and sporting an eyepatch.
"He never even realizes it, Girlie. Nori here has a flair for the idiotically dramatic."
At first, Shinobu wondered why such an old man was their pilot. But she relented because one, Grandma was obviously a good pilot, and two, it kept Seta out of the driver's seat. Seta moved to protest the man's opinion of him.
"Hank…"
The old man cut him off summarily.
"Nori, I am your O-Sempai times four or five. Now, what were you going to say?"
"Nothing."
Shinobu looked over their conveyance.
"Why is it pink?"
Seta made a shushing motion with his fingers over his lips.
"What Sarah doesn't know won't hurt me."
Old Hank checked over one of the ship's fins.
"Dang! We lost a piece of hull plating-when someone just had to drive for a spell."
"Hank, you were exhausted."
"I'm still a better pilot and driver asleep or dead than you were when I first met you—and you've lost ground ever since. Now where we gonna find that plating?"
Shinobu looked around her.
"Some kids eat their cafeteria lunch around here, so…"
Shinobu simply seemed to reach around a corner and pulled out three metal trays. Seta looked at her with new eyes.
"How?"
"Whenever kids eat their lunch, inevitably some ditch things where they shouldn't. I knew some kids eat their cafeteria lunch here, and I know when I do, there are never enough trays. Will these do?"
Placed against the gap, the trays simply melted into place, the fin as good as new. Seta smiled.
"The finest in Molmolian nano-tech."
Girl and old man together started openly.
"Molmolian?"
"Molmol. Why'd it have to be Molmol?"
Hank looked at Shinobu.
"Yours?"
She nodded.
"Shot at, arrested, forcibly conscripted—by my best friend. Yours?"
He rolled his visible eye.
"Tigers, nearly dumped into a volcano, gauntlet of spears—by the guy giving my bachelor party-as my bachelor party."
Shinobu bowed.
"Hank-San wins."
As the motor started up, the old man shook his head.
"Actually, I prefer to be called…"
As the wind rushed past them, he was drowned out. Shinobu approached their pilot.
"Sir—how did you lose your eye?"
He gave her a very dirty leer and decidedly wicked grin.
"My wife found me flirting with a cute-as-hell Japanese schoolgirl."
Shinobu found herself forced to smile. Tokyo International came in sight.
"We don't have clearance, so we'll have to hoof it. Hank? How will we find you?"
Hank looked at his students' student.
"I'll be the one driving the giant pink flying mechanical turtle."
"Suppose there's more than one?"
As Seta left, Hank stopped Shinobu.
"He's your O-Sempai kid-but I'm his. Descendant, I grant you permission to respectfully interpret his orders."
"Many thanks, Grandfather."
Catching up with him, Shinobu and Seta ran for the airport's main entrance.
"Won't they have to disembark?"
"Her family said the abductor was traveling light."
"But Nyamo is no weakling. Won't she put up a struggle?"
"They said she didn't seem to be resisting."
Shinobu was sensing something she didn't like one bit.
"Then how do you know she was kidnapped?"
"That is what her family said."
The rush of things took her thoughts away. Inside, the boards indicated the flight in question had arrived and was disembarking. At customer service, Seta asked a question and Shinobu drew an odd stare.
"We're trying to find a young woman who may have been…"
"Well, that was fast."
The receptionist was looking at Shinobu.
"What was fast?"
"Well, I just told you that you should dress more decently, and here you are…what happened to your tan?"
Shinobu thought quickly.
"Which way did I go?"
The confused receptionist pointed left.
"Thanks!"
"Maehara."
"Yes?"
The receptionist now looked even more confused.
"I thought—that you would want the name of the man traveling with-the other you?"
"That's great! So what is it?"
"Maehara."
"Yes?"
"Who are you?"
"Shinobu Maehara."
"Oh—so is Yasuharu Maehara your husband, brother?"
Slowly, Shinobu turned and glared at Seta, who grinned ever more broadly as his position worsened.
"We-helll-I did say that you were in a unique position to talk him down."
Shinobu felt the metal in her hand, and this time didn't question where the skillet came from.
"You—will tell me immediately everything you haven't bothered to as yet."
"Shinobu-"
She twirled her pan like a gunslinger girl's gun.
"I am as determined as Kei, I can get as angry as your wife, and I can hit like Naru! So talk!"
THREE HOURS LATER
Hank walked into the lock-up.
"Girlie, threatening a man in the middle of an airport is Seta-level stupid."
Hank turned his attention to the other one.
"What did you do to piss off this sweet young thing?"
"I—kind of failed to mention that her father was the suspected abductor-of the girl who looks exactly like her. And now we've lost our lead."
Hank thought for a moment.
"Girlie, you got a picture of your Dad?"
Shinobu produced it, and Hank nearly growled. He showed the picture to Seta, then slapped him with it.
"Remind you of anyone?"
"Oh-my. Now, we don't have to worry about Nyamo!"
Shinobu sighed.
"That's good."
"Now, the fate of the world and the universe itself hangs in the balance."
Shinobu looked up at Old Hank.
"He does this all the time, doesn't he?"
"Since he was nine."
Oddly (or perhaps not so oddly) the invoking of Grandma Hina's name got the charges dropped against Shinobu, and they were on their way to a rural location the two men knew of.
"Why would my father kidnap Nyamo?"
"I no longer believe he did. I think I know why he sought her out, though."
"Please don't tell me he has a daughter fetish."
"That—I couldn't say. But no, he is seeking something here. How much do you know about your father?"
Shinobu began to tear up.
"Yasuharu Maehara is not my father. He told me this morning I was adopted."
Seta gave her a quick hug, and the goofball briefly became her Sempai in an older body.
"Don't be so sure of your facts. Archeologist's first rule."
Hank bristled.
"That's NOT our first rule!"
"Hank!"
"WHAT?"
"CHASM!"
The MSSX4 stopped short of the gaping maw of a valley. Seta wiped his head.
"The gravity compensators don't work so well over a gap this deep. I'll have to take it down and re-ascend from there."
Hank was out and about with a machete in hand.
"I'll take Shinobu and seek a path up here. They don't know what they're getting into."
Moving through the underbrush like a pro, Hank kept his eye on a kid who was better prepared for this than he'd allowed.
"Hang on, Shin-chan. I think this is going to have a good pay-off."
"It had better, Grampy. I'd hate to leave this world with no one knowing it. Especially-"
"Keitaro? I met him while Nori was in the states last. Good kid. Seems at least a little more capable than Nori, when it comes to basic common sense. But no one will ever be the finder that Nori is. He can just—"
"Hank-San, wait!"
Shinobu reached down and found a disc with a hole in the middle.
"Nyamo's nearby. This is a Paraklesian Cooking Tray, meant for poisonous animals."
"Good girl-the hole catches and drains out whatever poisons the fire doesn't cook out. But it's not from your friend-unless she's thousands of years old."
"Huh?"
"This area was once one of the few Japanese outposts of the Great Turtle Civilization. It all begins to make sense."
"Respect, O-Sempai, but nothing is making sense. My father—who may not even be my father- has kidnapped a girl who looks exactly like me and has taken her to an outpost of a lost civilization that, every time I get anywhere near, trouble and chaos follows. The bottom is-"
Hank grabbed her and pulled her back from a large precipice.
"-falling out from under me?"
The gap was much smaller than the one Seta was trying to field, but for them, it looked like the end.
"We'll have to turn around. There's no way past this."
Hank reached into his carry-sack and pulled out a bullwhip.
"Don't be so sure—and hang on!"
His whip snagged an outcropping of rock near the middle of the gap. Grabbing Shinobu up, the ancient man swung across.
"You—O-Sempai-you—you're—you're-"
Hank grinned.
"Took you that long to figure it out?"
"But you'd have to be over 100!"
"What can I say? I drink from the right cup."
"Huh?"
"Don't believe everything you see in the movies, kid. Some things I keep around."
Shinobu mouthed the words 'Oh That Cup' before they resumed their walk. Just a short while later, they sighted Shinobu's father and Nyamo standing in the ruins of what had once been a home. Their hands were linked, and they were reciting prayers in Japanese and Paraklesy. Nyamo saw her duplicate.
"Shinobu, come quickly! We need you here. And you've brought Mister Junior!"
Hank mouthed the word 'Dad!' as they approached. Shinobu hugged and held Yasuharu Maehara.
"I don't care if I am adopted. You are and will always be my Papa!"
Yasu gently pushed her away.
"Shin-Baka! You're not adopted! I have a scar on my arm from where your mother hit me while in delivery. I'M the one whose adopted! Quickly, join with me and Nyamo in saying prayers over your grandfather's birthplace."
"Papa, Granpapa was born outside Yokohama…wait, you mean that Nyamo and I have the same grandfather?"
Nyamo hugged her cousin hard.
"I knew there was a connection between us. We are family!"
"Now hurry, you two. It's almost 3 PM."
Hank smiled.
"The One-Hundredth Anniversary of your granpa's birth, kid. I first met him during the war. Your Dad's a dead ringer for him. We had to work together when King Jamba Lya of Molmol kidnapped-errr—two important American and Japanese leaders, trying to broker peace."
"How important?"
Hank relented.
"One sat on a throne, one used a wheelchair. It ended better than it deserved to."
With the hour approaching, the three said what they needed to, and Nyamo smiled and looked at the diminishing sun.
"Grandfather! As I vowed, I have come to the place of your birth on the mark of a century's passage—and I have brought your son who was not my parent and met again my dear friend who is also revealed to me as family…"
Her smile faded abruptly.
"The spirits are unhappy. Hate rules. Blind, unyielding hate. Mountains crumble, far from here. The dread gate opens…"
She fainted, and her newfound Uncle caught her.
"Poor kid. She'd been up all night, but the chance to keep her promise was too great a temptation."
Seta flew in then, and walked over to the remains of the old home his more direct Sempai had been born in.
"Hank?"
"He said he hid it in the bowels of the Earth, Nori."
"Shin-chan? Find the root-cellar."
Shinobu almost unconsciously moved to a certain spot, dug her hand down, and found a bound bamboo doorway in the ground.
"How did I do that?"
Seta was again smiling broadly.
"Recent historical and archeological studies have stopped focusing on rulers, and instead focus on the ruled. You have a talent for finding things that ordinary everyday people used to cook, store and keep food in. I knew I'd find a piece of Keitaro deep inside you!"
Hank hit Seta with his hat while Shinobu blushed as never before.
"Can we just find…whatever it is and go home?"
Yasu Maehara held his little girl tight.
"You poor thing. Thinking I'd spring news that big on you—and then hearing a piece of innuendo like that?"
"You've never met Mitsu, have you Papa?"
They both helped Nyamo revive while Seta went through a root cellar abandoned many years. He came out holding a wax cylinder.
"The next piece of The Toudai Rose puzzle is in our hands. Maybe we don't even need to worry about the Red Gate."
Hank shook his head.
"I've heard that one before. Nah, Crowley and his bunch planned this too well. They broke poor Phil Lovecraft so much, he had to write those stories to hide it all in. But this is important, no doubt. Lucky thing your boy's girl turned out to be Oikura's granddaughter."
"Nah, Hank. At the Hinata-Sou, there are no coincidences. Just an amazing family I happened to buy into."
"I can see that. Say, where's the turtle?"
The MSSX4 floated over from the nearby valley, a woman and a girl with glares to melt steel standing in it.
"NORI!"
"DAD!"
Hank walked over to Haruka and Sarah to broker peace. He glanced at Seta.
"You…didn't tell them anything, did you?"
Haruka laughed with Hank, while Sarah went to the Maeharas and Nyamo saying 'I Knew It!' to their familial revelation. On the way to drop Nyamo off at her home, Shinobu saw the coordinates.
"Seta-Sama, we're not headed to Paraklese. We're headed to…"
She dreaded saying the word.
"Molmol. Hank-San, will you protect me?"
Hank put his hand on her shoulder and smiled.
"Kid—you're on your own."
Nyamo, tending to her sleeping new Uncle, shrugged.
"Nothing is wrong with Molmol, Shinobu. My fiancé awaits me there, with my family who he gathered in my absence."
"You have a fiancé? He's Molmolian?"
"Oh, yes. A very wealthy and powerful man. My family says we must wait, but he says for me he will wait forever, if need be."
*Oh, Please.* thought Shinobu. *Let it be anyone…anyone at all…anyone except…*
The craft landed, and indeed Nyamo's family awaited her in the company of her very powerful and wealthy suitor, whose arms she ran into.
"Nyamo!"
"Lambda Lu! My King!"
Shinobu began to have a very bad Tuesday once again. The girl-now her cousin-who looked exactly like Shinobu was set to marry the man who looked exactly like Keitaro.
"Errr—Sire? Weren't you set to marry Amalla Su?"
Lamda Lu pshawed this.
"Her? She gets angry and hits me all the time. What man could possibly put up with that every single night when he could have a treasure like Nyamo?"
Nyamo nodded.
"Besides—he can always marry her later. She and I get along just fine."
The new family members said goodbye. They left on the MSSX4, and Shinobu pointed at Seta.
"In 18 years, after your child is born and grown…I WILL BE WAITING!"
Seta whispered to his wife.
"I take it now would not be a good time to tell her I introduced Lamda Lu to Nyamo?"
Haruka rubbed his head and sighed.
"At least you're learning."
Sarah shook her head.
"I was right to tell King Lamda no, right? Cause I have school in the morning."
Demolished in her father's arms, she heard his story.
"Your grandfather was devastated by your grandmother's death, and left me with the Maeharas just before he left to study Paraklese. After a certain point, we weren't even sure he was alive anymore, and Mama and Papa showed me so much love, I agreed to take their name."
"But why did you never tell me that? Why did you think I would be thrown off?"
"Well, you always adored Granma Maehara. I knew you'd be upset that you weren't her blood."
Shinobu sighed.
"Papa—she kind of scared me silly when you and Mama separated. She said I'd be bounced from relative to relative. I'll always love her, but I would have understood her a little better if I had known how you were bounced around."
Yasu held Shinobu close.
"Eh, Nobody's Perfect, Shin-Chan. Howsabout I take you out to dinner?"
Shinobu sat bolt upright.
"DINNER!"
The Mecha-Sama Super X4 made like a shot for the Hinata-Sou. Inside, everyone had been waiting for Shinobu, and greeted her father.
"Everyone please vacate my kitchen—except Sempai Kei—I need someone to whine to. Please?"
JOURNAL
O-Sempai Hank has agreed to have dinner with us, and even in her all-business bender, Mitsu is as girlish as any of us around him. Papa simply doesn't get to the Sou often enough, though I can tell Arlo wishes he'd known he was coming. Motoko's 'guest' not date is Mutsumi's brother Koichi, who brought her a small box of chocolates.
I'd forgotten that I'd made dinner pretty much in advance, so Sempai Kei and I have a nice talk while I finalize and reheat.
Keitaro laughed, but he made sure Shinobu knew that he was laughing with her.
"He can be a bit much. But I learned such an incredible amount from him—what are you doing?"
Shinobu held up a slip of paper, yellowed and crinkled.
"It's a recipe for lemon pepper tilapia a guest left for Grandma-in 1959— Come to Hyannisport when you can, Hina. Love, Jack and Jackie. Hmm. Wonder who they were?"
Keitaro whisked the paper away from her.
"Looks like you've got the touch. Shin, my Uncle can be a trip. But he means well, and it's almost always a trip worth taking."
"Almost?"
"Molmol."
"Speaking of Molmol and marriages-Sempai, is fate just messing with me?"
He squeezed her free hand.
"Maybe fate is just jealous of what we have together."
She smiled, but shrugged as she put down the bowls.
"What exactly do you call our near-physical duplicates becoming engaged to be married, so soon after we established who we are and are not to each other?"
Kei shrugged.
"I'd call that the summation of us : Always tender but always awkward. Besides which, I firmly consider Molmol to be part of an alternate universe."
Shinobu thought back to something she overheard.
"Sempai, what is the Toudai Rose?"
Keitaro didn't look happy to hear that said.
"That thing? It's the artifact that caused all the trouble in Molmol. It has an inscription of a rose by a tower with a gate. The legends say it keeps the world that is from colliding with the worlds that aren't. Don't let Su hear that I said this, but I'd just as soon never see it or Molmol again."
Shinobu grabbed some bowls, and bid Keitaro do the same.
"Friends, sempais, family-lend me your appetites."
Kei nodded.
"We come to feed Caesar—not to bury him."
Shinobu winked.
"Except maybe that uncle of yours. The jury is still out on that one."
JOURNAL
After dinner, I flatly told Arlo how I was on the rebound from Kei. He understood, and said he would rather build a stew-something slow and steady than endures rather than a soufflé that pops at the first bump.
Then he stole a kiss. It was as brief as brief gets, and only our lips met. Yet for that one moment, I could honestly say 'Kei Who?' and mean it. Which made me feel less rotten than it should have. I think he was about to try again when Su rushed out to tell us something.
Please, Kami. No more interesting times. I'll even let Arlo to second base early, but let peace and dullness prevail, just for a while.
9PM, Local Time, The Hinata-Sou
In the living room, everyone was seated around the TV. Mitsu pointed to the screen.
"I thought they were running some kind of disaster movie. But this is the news. This is happening right out of New York. A plane just crashed into one of the Twin Towers."
Mutsumi stared at the screen and took on a look of obvious horror.
"A commuter plane?"
"Nah. This was a jet airliner. Big one. What could drive it that far off course?"
As they were talking, further reports spoke of another such plane crashing into one of the other towers. Motoko shook her head.
"One plane crashing like that could be a sad accident. Two indicates an act of war."
Naru looked ill.
"Do you know how many people work in those Towers? I did a school report on New York City's infrastructure. What if the fire burns in the subway tunnels below the buildings?"
Su looked with eyes wide but confused.
"Who would do this? What about the people in the planes?"
Shinobu tried to be optimistic. This was difficult.
"Disasters and terrorist attacks happen all over the world. Americans and especially New Yorkers are tough. They can handle this-can't they?"
The tears were already in her voice as she finished. Koichi's phone went off. It was his foreman at the Maintenance firm he worked for.
"Motoko-Chan? Sis? I gotta bail. They want me in Tokyo ASAP—in case maybe these attacks are part of a worldwide thing. Don't know what I'd do against all that, though."
His fist met Motoko's and she wished him well rather tenderly. Normally, such a thing would draw oooh's and ah's from the others. This was not normal. Sarah was in tears, held by her father. The pair had been on top of those same towers just before the misadventure in Molmol started up. Haruka asked Old Hank if he knew anyone that worked in that area.
"It's a big area, Ruka. Odds are, everyone is gonna know someone before this is over."
The old man felt just a little older. Arlo's cell-phone rang next.
"Uh, Kei-Sempai? My Mom wants to talk to you—it's important."
Keitaro took the phone and heard Alice's words. He then took his aunt aside, spoke, and she seized and held onto him for dear life. Naru ran to Arlo.
"What did she say?"
Arlo Guthrie felt like running. That he did not, he would later realize, had been among the most important decisions of his life.
"My Mom said that Hinata-Dono called her from New York about an hour before all this started. Said she was all excited about taking an aerial tour of the city in her little plane. It was supposed to start fifteen minutes after that. Now—she can't get back through to her."
Naru tried to step back from the facts.
"Phone and cell lines just could be overwhelmed right now."
Motoko attempted a defense.
"She perhaps never got up in the air. There are always delays on small airfields."
Mitsu channeled her old self for all it was worth.
"She stopped off, had a beer, and some knucklehead told her she couldn't fly that way. Probably cursing him out as we speak."
Su held Sarah while Seta joined their nephew in calming his wife. Shinobu sat with Kei and had no words. Mutsumi openly mumbled.
"Grandma Hina, I'm all alone. Could you find someone to play with me, here in the sandbox?"
Except for news (including two other such planes), all was silence after that until about an hour later when the news of the first collapse occurred.
As they held and kept to each other and awaited some kind of word, all felt as though a harsh wind now blew through the Hinata-Sou, perhaps blowing away its founder in the process.
THE AIRSPACE IN AND AROUND NEW YORK CITY
Had the plane struck hers any at all, she would have been finished instantly, curse or no curse. She knew that much.
Hinata Urashima also knew that she had to quickly regain control of her plane, thrown off by the backwash of the first jetliner's passage into oblivion. The sun had glared directly in her eyes several times, and the explosion when the plane met its hijackers' target was still ringing in her ears. But she knew how to fly a plane, and she knew she had to gain a sense of where she was to do this. Finally clearing her senses and righting her aircraft, she looked out.
Ahead of her were the legendary, song-inspiring cliffsides facing the Hudson River known as the New Jersey Palisades.
Fifteen seconds before the plane struck the cliffsides, Hinata swore she heard her husband's voice and felt his arms around her.
"Awa?"
AND NOW A FEW WORDS ON A TENDER SUBJECT, OR 'TOO SOON?'
First off, let me thank again those who are reading and have read 'Life After Molmol' and hopefully will continue to read it. You have helped make a bad period in my life, as resumes and applications hit a brick economic wall, a lot more bearable.
I really should have known that including the 9/11 attacks in Book Two would provoke some criticism. For my naivete in this matter, I do apologize. I should also add that I have been writing 9/11 fic since 9/12/2001, no joke. I have included it in other stories, though perhaps an LH audience hasn't read those, which is understandable. So why add such a sad reality to a funny fantasy piece about an unlucky everydude and his eventual sort-of harem?
I do feel like I already brought some non-animanga reality into this world. Book One ignored the 'oh well it's just wacky' excuse that sees many a character from even having to see the doghouse and put almost all of them through the wringer, especially Kitsune and Su. But that was not wholly outside the realm of Love Hina, and it addressed an arc I now find I was not alone in criticizing.
I'll go into what I intended to deliver at story's end. But why I chose 9/11 goes to several things. One, it is an instantly recognizable event, especially in America. Two, it is huge enough to have something happen tangentially without being either ridiculous or disrespectful. Third and finally, there is a convergence of sorts. You see, a little more than a month after 9/11, on October 31st, 2001, something came to an end. It was the final chapter in a saga about a seemingly hopeless nerd and his pursuit of a woman who seemed a hopeless shrew-and in this finale they at last married. Once I found out this connection, I couldn't let it go. The harsh reality took over just as the fairy tale romance concluded. This story began to form in my mind, and what you see and will see is the result.
I respect the memories of those who died and the grieving of those left behind. I know a lot of people who lost people that sad day. Nearby Middletown, New Jersey (I live at the Jersey Shore in a town called Belmar) saw almost as many losses as New York itself, and per capita, an even higher percentage. On 9/15/2001, a preacher in that area told me how many funerals he had been presiding over. That man is the stepfather of my dear friend Jess, married to my old friend Ryan, on the day Jess gave birth to my beautiful angel of a niece, Sam. She came to us at the best possible time, a ray of light in a very dark week, and someday I hope to tell her this when she can fully grasp such an enormous loss and shock.
To those who may be offended by the timing or placement of the story, I apologize. But while I will not dismiss you, I will go ahead with this piece. I can only ask you to trust me ; If you liked Book One, stay with me and see how Book Two turns out. I think you will find it is worth the payoff. For the record, certain elements in play are meant to set up Book Three.
This continues the story of how our friends grew up, amidst joy and pain, love and loss, laughter and tears. I am and continue to be so grateful for the opportunity to write it and have you read it.
'Goji' Rob Morris, 1AM on Wednesday June 30th, 2010