Hitokiri Orange Road
Chapter 5. Tentative Bindings
The school sat about a third of the way between the Tendo dojo and the meat slaughtering plant. Akane arose early to check in at the clinic. Kyosuke also left early to get his uniform. They ate rice porridge for breakfast. It was hot, but had a charcoal tang. Akane had grown thinner and the undersides of her eyes looked bruised.
"Are you feeling well?" Kyosuke asked.
"I'm fine," she answered brusquely.
Akane finished her breakfast quickly. Kyosuke picked up his pace and thanked her for the meal. She left the room with the bowls. He took the opportunity to examine the room. Most of the books were dusty martial arts manuals. The cabinet and shrine looked well cared for, though.
A black and white photo showed a man in a formal kimono standing next his young wife who wore a Western-style dress. The woman held a swaddled child in her arms. A color picture showed a pretty girl in a high school blazer and skirt. Her skirt and hair were worn long. She smiled while flashing a victory "V". Half of the photo was cut away, though an arm of another girl remained slung around her waist. The incense censer was empty.
Akane returned with her school bag. They left the dojo by the side door and separated at the corner. Kyosuke turned the corner, found an alleyway, and teleported.
The manager Arisawa caught Kyosuke trying to sneak into the dorm. To the boy's surprise, Arisawa did not chew him out, but gave him another sheaf of paperwork. High school had become mandatory for those under 18 years old. He was to move out in the morning. In the meantime, he had to find housing in one of the blocks listed in his new housing permit. Kyosuke had also been issued a new work permit.
Kyosuke returned his work clothes and put on his uniform. As he changed, an empty pack of Lucky Strikes fell out. Kyosuke almost threw it out, but after meeting Ayukawa, all of the previous day's events seemed important. A note was stuffed inside the wrapper. He recognized Ayukawa's handwriting. The note listed an address with a meeting time. Kyosuke kept the note and discarded the wrapper. Kyosuke hurriedly finished dressing and took off for school without washing his face. The unfamiliar permits sat stiffly in his rear pocket as he ran to find a secluded place.
He had not fully recovered from the previous day's exertion; teleporting left him gasping for air as he jogged the last yards to the school gate. To his surprise, soldiers guarded the gate. They wore green camoflauge, flak jackets, and helmets. Two carried assault rifles on their backs and checked for permits and ID. Another two held their long black guns at ready. The stream of students were eerily silent.
The line moved slowly. Kyosuke found himself next to Ayukawa. She gave him a surprised look and then whipped her head away. He did not try to get her attention, though he sorely wanted to. Up close, Kyosuke saw that the soldiers were almost the same age as himself. The students were herded by the other soldiers to the gym. Each homeroom teacher stood next to a group of students. The gym floor had been marked by precisely spaced lines of tape that measured two feet wide. The students stopped at the tape. Homeroom teachers held up signs for their students.
Soldiers stood lined the sides of their gym with their weapons ready. Some students' eyes flicked back and forth. Others stood rigidly still as if emulating the soldiers. Everyone was ill at ease. Kyosuke was reminded of the pigs led into the processing plants. His homeroom teacher looked sternly at Kyosuke and his orange arm band. Kyosuke shuffled into place, sorted by name. The girls formed a second column. Ayukawa and Akane were already in line. He looked at the back of their heads for a moment, but neither of them turned around.
A podium had been set up in front of the assembled students. A middle-aged man wearing aviator sunglasses and an off-the-rack suit stepped behind the podium. He limped up to the podium. A soldier saluted him as he took his place in front of the microphone. The principal of the school stood to the side of him. He looked small next to the man with sunglasses. The principal mopped his forehead repeatedly with a white handkerchief.
The PA system screeched noisily as the man began speaking.
"Good morning," the man in sunglasses said in a hoarse voice.
The classes remained silent. The room grew tense as they heard the mechanical click of the guns being readied.
"When someone says good morning, aren't you supposed to say good morning back?" the man demanded. His voice did not rise, but slid closer to the edge. He pulled off his glasses and swept the students with an intense stare. "Let's start again. Good morning."
"Good morning," the assembly replied in a wary unison.
"Better," the government man said. "After the disturbance of the past several days, I hope that we can settle down to our everyday lives. I am here today to remind you that things have changed.
"There are rules to society, and those rules were broken. Don't think that you can get away with that."
A girl in Kyosuke's class had begun to sniffle. The soft sobs drifted through the entire auditorium. The girl's neighbors shifted uncomfortably in their places. They said nothing to the sobbing girl. They swayed uncomfortably in place, as if bound to the ground by the thin band of masking tape. After an initial stirring, the audience focused on the podium.
Kyosuke forced his face to follow suit though it was against his instinct to leave her crying. He did not remember the girl's name. She had not been in his class at his Koryo Academy. The girl was small and child-like. Her hiccuping sobs grew louder until they no longer could be contained. She began crying unreservedly. She mumbled refrain under her tears, "Fujisaki-sempai, where did you go? Where are you?"
They all waited for her to stop, including the man at the podium. He put a stick of gum in his mouth and began chewing. He surveyed the class, seemingly oblivious to the mourning girl. His face was a bland mask. Finally, the homeroom teacher gave the girl a handkerchief. She sank into his arms. The teacher looked uncomfortable.
"I'm taking her out into the hallway," the teacher announced.
The government man gave him a blank look. The teacher led the girl out of the room. The man in shades neatly spat out the gum into the silver wrapper.
"As I was saying," the middle aged man continued. "Things are going to be different."
After the assembly, the students reported to homeroom. The homeroom teacher had returned to the assembly. He was white. When they reached class, he informed them that the girl was at the nurse's office and that there was no word on Fujisawa-sempai's whereabouts. Unexpectedly, one or two of the girl students burst out crying upon reaching the safety of the class. The teacher went to soothe them.
As the teacher walked through the aisles, he clasped some students' shoulders in encouragement. Kyosuke watched them from the corner of his eye. He was surprised that his daily torturer was a good teacher to the other students. He stole a glance at Ayukawa; she stared out of the window as she always did.
The troops and government man after homeroom. None of the teachers asked about the appearance of new students, such as Kyosuke or Ayukawa, and pretended as if nothing had happened.
Missing day after day of class had left Kyosuke hopelessly behind the other students. He zoned through the rest of the school day. After classes, he teleported back to the plant. Ayukawa's meeting time was after the five o'clock curfew. He could not go in a high school uniform. Kyosuke changed into a his best khakis, that were neatly patched at a knee, and a worn shirt. Arisawa gave him the last of his pay and told him to keep the older man in mind if we wanted to make money on the side. The boy said a simple farewell to his coworkers.
Kyosuke's meager possessions fit into a single duffel bag. It was half past six when he was finished. The meeting was at seven. Kyosuke left off his orange armband. The destination was close to the bar where he had see Ayukawa. The address turned out to be a convenience store. There was no one to meet him. Kyosuke walked into the store. The round analog clock read 7:00 PM. The slight and gray proprietor glanced at him, but did not say anything. Kyosuke waited ten minutes, and then remembered the cigarette brand that the first note had come in. It was a long shot, but he decided to buy a pack. He breathed a sigh of relief as he found a scrap of paper with the tobacco.
Kyosuke left the store at a brisk walk. His destination was at the south end of the industrial zone. The other plant workers warned him that several high school gangs used abandoned factories and warehouses as hang-outs. And he could believe it after seeing the rows derelict buildings and abandoned yards strung with rusted barbed wire. Kyosuke arrived at a man-made hill of discarded cinder blocks and fractured concrete. The debris bled rust. A ramshackle. sheet metal building sat several dozen yards away. It looked like the remnants of a bomb blast.
Kyosuke picked his way through ruins by moonlight. The footing was treacherous. One misstep sent a piece of steel wire through the toe of his work boots. Fortunately, it had punctured the very tip between his largest toe and its neighbor. He eased his foot from the sharp steel. He stopped near the highest point in the heap and waited.
"Mz. Ayukawa," Kyosuke called out.
It felt strange, but seemed appropriate to address her more formally. He dropped his bag and held up his arms to show that he wasn't holding anything. If it was going to be spy drama, he might as well go all the way.
"I'm here and I'm here alone. I just want to talk to you," he announced
The sound of rubble drew his attention to his rear. Just as he turned, a louder disturbance caught his attention. He turned forward in time to be blinded by an industrial strength flashlight.
"Keep your hands up," Madoka ordered.
Ayukawa approached to quickly search his pockets. She backed away several steps and lowered her flashlight. Instead of her black long gang jacket, she wore a respectable long coat with a scarf. He looked her over once and then studied her face from the flow of her hair to her eyes, nose, and mouth; she was the same down to the eye lashes. She returned his long look with a glare.
"Can I put my hands down?" he asked.
"You're the one that put them up," Madoka said. "If you've got something to say, talk."
"Okay, first, what is the Program?"
His question broke her hard stare into a look of confusion.
"You're joking," she answered.
"I'm not, I got the same reaction from the Tendo sisters."
"How could you not know?"
"I only started school here a few months ago," Kyosuke explained. He couldn't tell her that he was from another world.
"But you must have gone to school somewhere. It's compulsory. No one escapes it, the Program."
"Let's pretend that I'm from another world. Could you please explain the Program for me? In your own words. Like what is it?"
"Okay, Mr. Alien," she answered sardonically. "It's a part of growing up. It used to be restricted to the last year of junior high. You know what junior high is right?
"Classrooms are chosen at random from all over Japan. Each year anywhere from eight to twelve classes are chosen. Each class is taken to a secluded place like a mountain or island and then the classmates are forced to fight and kill until there is only one person standing."
"You're joking," Kyosuke blurted.
His insides ran cold. Though the words were Japanese, he felt as if he were hearing an alien language.
"Why would anyone do that to children?" he demanded. Though he said children, he was only a year and change out of junior high. "What is the Program for?"
"Some people say that it's meaningless, another government directive that's taken a life of its own and gone out of control. Other people say that it's the ultimate form of entertainment for those at the top. I think that it's a form of control. Do you remember Sato Fumiko in the gym today?"
"The girl who started to cry?"
"She and us were like Japan. The Program is terrible and arbitrary, and it is inflicted on children. If the government can inflict this on parents year after year, then what will get people stirred up? What won't we tolerate? We end up just like that auditorium.
"We notice her pain, but let her cry anyway. That was probably why the government stooge let her cry. It reminds of our cowardice. It reminds us that we are all cowards," Ayukawa's fists curled. Her eyes shimmered with the intensity of her emotions. "Now do you understand the Program?"
Kyosuke numbly nodded.
Several lights switched on, from the foot of the hill. Kyosuke shied away from the brightness. Ayukawa darted forward, seized his right arm in a vise-like grip and twisted it. The inner edge of her forearm cut off his breath. He grit his teeth against the pain. He struggled for small breaths. If he struggled and managed to escape her grip, she would never trust him.
"Show yourself!" Madoka demanded. "One step closer and I'll break your snitch's neck."
It was another girl gang. They wore blazers and long skirts with surgical masks to hide their faces. Kyosuke discerned the silhouettes of pipes and chains through the industrial strength flashlights. More gang members flanked them at the base of the hill, some of them wore different styles of uniforms. They began advancing up the hill.
"Ayukawa," he choked out. "I didn't snitch, I didn't betray you."
"You're right, I would need to trust in you before you could betray me," she said coldly.
She slammed a knee into his lower back, striking dead on a kidney. Kyosuke fell to his knees gasping for breath. Ayukawa backed away from him and fished out yard-long rod of steel reinforcing from a debris. A sharp blow knocked off chips of concrete.
"Madoka!" a voice called from the main group at the foot of the hill. A whip-lean girl separated from the main group. She pointed an unfolded straight razor up the hill. "I, Mari the Razor, second in command of Red Swallowtails of Fushimidai Academy will bring you to justice. Because of your betrayal, our leader was captured and yet you and that slinking bitch Oryuu escaped."
"Oryuu would never cut and run!" Ayukawa called back. "She tried to get most of the other gangs to leave."
"Tell that to Kaori, whose brother was also captured!" Mari jerked her thumb behind her.
A girl in a long black suicide jacket stood in the middle of the group. The jacket bore the same markings as the ones Kyosuke saw from the previous day. He rose painfully to his feet and backed up as twenty odd gangsters advanced toward the top of the hill. He backed up toward Madoka and Madoka backed up toward him. The stood nearly back to back, exposing their flank to Mari's main group, which stayed at the base of the hill.
Kyosuke felt his mouth go dry. He never associated pain with gain or any positive machismo. The boy only ascribed hurt to pain and the rough women promised him a world of hurting.
"You really don't have anything to do with them, do you?" Madoka asked him.
"No."
"Can you fight?"
"No really," Kyosuke answered. "But I have a trick or two that I can pull."
"Like moving those shelves?"
"Something like that."
The gangsters were a third of the way up the hill. On the way up, Kyosuke had stepped over a partly buried traffic barrier that had rocked under his weight. He could make out the outline of the barrier further uphill from the gangster.
"There's going to be a break, get ready to make for it," Kyosuke said.
Madoka nodded. The gangster below him noticed his inattention and threw the pipe that she had been holding. Kyosuke began to duck, but remembered that Madoka stood behind him. He froze in mid-motion and threw up his arm against the spinning steel. He threw an impulse of will behind the arm, but it was too late. The blow resonated through his arm. It took a moment for the pain to catch up with Kyosuke. He doubled over his arm as heavy red pulses of pain ran through his body.
Despite the pain, Kyosuke focused his power on the partly buried traffic barrier. He pushed at it with all the force that he could muster. The gangster dove out of the way as the barrier teetered dangerously, and then rolled from its unsteady perch. As it rolled, a section of the hill cascaded down with it.
Ayukawa seized Kyosuke around the waist and charged down the hill in the wake of the collapse. The delinquents dove away from the tons of crashing concrete. Their feet skid over the unstable rubble. Madoka's natural grace and uncanny dexterity barely kept them upright. Under the cover of dust and night, they ran from the shaken gangsters into the night.
Ayukawa's grip shifted to his wrist, but it never wavered. Every step jarred his arm, shooting a fresh shot of pain through him. In spite of it, he put one flat foot on the pavement after another. They made several turns and then ducked into an alley until the sounds of pursuit rushed past them. Madoka managed to pick the cheap lock at the back of an abandoned office building.
Madoka locked the door and then helped Kyosuke into a windowless room. She quickly flicked on her trench lighter. The floor was litter with pieces of plaster and dust. She propped him against a wall. She rummaged through his bag. There was a rickety chair that she dismantled for splints.
"I thought that I'd lost that, thanks," Kyosuke said between wheezed breaths.
"Let me see your arm," Ayukawa said.
Kyosuke bit down on one his cleaner shirts as she as she probed his arm for damage; a bone had been displaced. He bit back a muffled scream as he felt the bone grind; the boy was left shaken and sweating. Another shirt was sacrificed to bind his hurt arm.
"I can't seem to keep on my two feet these days," the boy gasped. He forced a weak smile.
"How are you feeling, Kasuga?"
"Fine," he answered. Fine, now that I've heard you call me by my name, he added quietly to himself.
Kyosuke let his muscles relax as much as he could and settled down.