Chapter 14 — Zazen Boys / Number Girl

diiiing-dong

A hand snatched the remote on the portable blue footrest. The TV volume was muted. The living room was quiet.

diiiing-dong

Yomotsu and Yuri peeked their heads over the red couch, so that their faces down to their noses were exposed. Then they hesitantly looked towards one another.

"You should probably go see who it is," Yuri whispered.

"I'm blind," Yomotsu responded.

"But… This is your house. I'm just staying here."

"I consider us equal partners in this."

diiiing-dong

"Yomotsu, they are going to leave soon if you don't hurry!"

"How about we both go over there?"

"That... That would work. Strength in numbers."

"Justice is on our side, Yuri."

Yomotsu leapt over the couch and landed halfway between the living room and the door. Yuri landed at the same time, next to him. They exchanged glances once more.

diiii-

Yomotsu lunged forward and flung open the door. Yuri stood by his side, ready to bring on the fire.

"Oh, hey," said the pizza delivery man. "How are you guys today?"

The two assumed calm standing posture. Yuri leaned his hand against the doorframe, to look relaxed and cool. Really, however, he was doing it largely to maintain his balance. He was wearing something more casual today, and yet his maroon cashmere turtleneck and dark blue dress pants very clearly contrasted Yomotsu's white shorts and tie-dye shirt.

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. "Just fine, sir."

"WE ARE DOING EXQUISITE," Yomotsu shouted. His skin was almost as dull a shade as his hair. "YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT THE FATED TIME! A RIGHTEOUS HERO NEEDS NOURISHMENT."

The pizza delivery man gave a chill nod. "Yeah," he said, handing over the boxes to Yomotsu. "And I need $14.60, please."

Now, the reader might very appropriately ask why now, all of a sudden, these two would be afraid of opening the door? Have they always been this socially awkward? If so, what about Yomotsu's success at customer service, and what about how cool they were when they met each other back in chapter 1? What gives? Were they watching something spooky on TV? These are great questions. If there was a committee in charge of awarding prizes to the best questions of the year, this would win the Inquirer award. Or the Questie. But that makes it sound too much like an adventure-based award and not one involving the merits of verbal searches for truth.

Yomotsu nudged Yuri sharply in the side. "I THINK THE GENTLEMAN NEEDS MONETARY PAYMENT. Pssssst, Yuri I'm broke; help a friend out here!"

The answer is actually quite simple. Yuri and Yomotsu are men with masks and multiple dimensions. They have their home life, which is separate from their work life, which is separate from their real work of bringing criminals to justice. Each persona composed one individual, but they could also act independently and had their own respective strengths and weaknesses. It all depended on which environment was at play.

"Ugh, hold on." Yuri retrieved the wallet from his pocket and fished out the exact amount.

Today's environment was unusual.

"Thanks, man," the pizza delivery man said. "Have a good day!"

Yomotsu still had an awkward grin on his face when he stepped back and let Yuri close the door. A sense of normalcy returned after the boxes had been set on the table. Yuri watched Yomotsu open them up: a large pineapple pizza, a medium mushroom, and an order of breadsticks. Yuri went to the fridge.

"Think he'll like—?"

"He will have to learn if he doesn't!" Yomotsu interrupted Yuri.

Yuri smiled. He poured the 2 liter of grape Fanta into three red party cups.

They did not readily admit to it anyone but each other, to whom they very readily admitted it, but they were very excited for today. They could put up fronts for a while, but honestly, this really was an interesting development. This was something different, for a change. It sounded fun.

They did, of course, have to make sure that Luke did not wander into the wrong elements of the house, such as the basement. Withstanding those obstacles, however, they were just going to try to be very much themselves around Luke. If he was actually a jerkfaic and someone they did not want to readily associate with, this would repel them. If he was as FANTASTIC as he seemed, well, then he would likely put up with it all the more and a sense of mutual genuineness could be reached. That was the mentality Yuri had put forth and Yomotsu had agreed upon, at least. They had planned out this day with the expectation of leaving things open to change.

diiiing-dong

This time Yuri rushed to the door. "LUKE-SENPAI IS GOING TO NOTICE ME FIRST!"

He opened the door, and there was Luke— wearing a light brown jacket over a white polo. He smiled when he saw Yuri and said, "Is that pizza I smell? I thought I was supposed to pay…" He sniffed at the air and then, when his eyes settled back on Yuri, his eyes lowered slightly, to his shirt. Yuri looked down, also. "It looks like you got some on your shirt."

Yuri freaked. He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and furiously wiped at the dark red stain on his maroon turtleneck. Luke chuckled and walked past him, calling out to Yomotsu as he slipped off his shoes. Yuri groaned and quietly lamented, "How truly embarrassing…"

When he returned, Luke and Yomotsu were concluding some small chat as Yomotsu dramatically scooped two slices of pizza on each of the three paper plates. He used a fork and pizza server with absolute flare, and with every motion he made, he would make loud sound effects.

"PIIIIII-" He scooped up the final piece.

"ZZZZAAAA-" He dropped it onto the plate.

"IS SERVED!" He handed the plate over to Luke, who was clearly amused. Yuri shook his head gently. That was definitely Yomotsu, the Yomotsu he knew. The awkwardness of the encounter with the pizza delivery man had faded away. Given the high rank Luke held at the store, it was a curiosity that they were so easily able to let go of their fronts, but a mutual understanding quickly developed that there was no need to be proper. It was probably the pizza that had that effect.

Yomotsu had a slice of the pineapple, to humor Luke's request, but his heart was devoted to the mushroom pizza. He ended up going back for another slice of that. Yuri ate his two pieces of pineapple and enjoyed them. Luke went back for double helpings. Breadsticks were passed and the grape Fanta poured.

Yomotsu had his iPod connected to the speakers, and while they ate, he had an album on play—Zazen Boys 4. Luke and Yuri, who had never heard the album before, both immediately connected with "Asobi" and were soon singing along with Yomotsu's perfect karaoke. By "Weekend," Yomotsu was instinctively dancing and doing hip thrusts with the music, causing Yuri to remark to Luke, "Here we provide dinner and a show."

"He really can dance," Luke remarked, as Yomotsu began to move in chaotic spasms with the guitar.

"It's part of his morning routine," Yuri confessed. "So I imagine he's had years to practice…"

Luke watched and pondered as Yomotsu began to spin on the ground and pull breakdance moves. "I wonder if he can make his legs go the other way."

Yuri turned his head. "…huh?"

Luke nervously laughed. "Well, uh, I mean… You know… Make his legs go the other way."

"That sounds like something a 1920s American gangster would threaten someone: 'Don't mess with me or I'll make yer legs go the other way.' I don't know if Yomotsu can do that to himself or would want to," Yuri joked.

"Idiot Funk" was playing when Luke and Yuri both found themselves being drawn to the television. It had been playing silently while they ate, but they both happened to notice what was being broadcast on JusTV. A "BREAKING NEWS" banner was at the bottom of the screen.

"Turn off the music for a second," Yuri said.

Yomotsu could tell by the tone that he should listen, rather than make a retort. The volume was turned back up, and Yomotsu occupied the empty couch.

"—first televised message from the rumored culprit of the recent crimes," the male newscaster reported, from his desk. "And we have been told that we will be killed if we do not allow this footage on the air. Given JusTV's dedication to informing about the public about the threats to peace and order, even if our lives were not on the line, we would reveal this important message out of our dedication to justice. Let's all watch, and then we'll open up discussion to our JusTV commentators."

The image of the newsroom switched to that of a white screen, with an elaborate black "K" taking up the center. There was silence both coming from the screen and in the Hirasaka/Petrov residence.

"Greetings. I am Kira."

The voice was clear yet distorted beyond recognition.

"You may be wondering why I have taken this long to address the public. I have been seeing the full capabilities of my powers, and I have been trying to see how many could understand what is happening and going to happen without me spelling it out. I was not disappointed. Through the Internet, people across the world have started cheering on 'Kira.' While major media outlets have disappointingly slid my existence under the rug, I found the resources of the world's investigators to be quite amusing. They are on the wrong side of history, and the people know that."

The voice continued. "The media has largely ignored the death of many of the world's worst criminals, most of whom have died from 'heart attacks' over the past couple of months. Government officials have denounced these deaths as inconsequential coincidences, and that is why I am making this public statement: I, Kira, do exist, and I intend to not stop until evil has been wiped from this world."

"There are, however, false prophets of justice that I must address. You can know them by their fruits: if their methods do not change the world, and if they fall short of destroying evil entirely, then they are distractions at best and my enemies at the worst. I will not be obstructed by anyone in my mission to make this world safe. At the moment, all I seek is cooperation from law enforcement and public support from all 'heroes' across the world. If my mission is halted by those who should be on my side, my requests will become demands. The people want a better world, and the oligarchies and corrupt leadership of this world will not deprive them of it."

The newsroom returned, but the voices of the commentators were muffled. All Yuri could think about was his own reaction. Kira. The sudden decrease in villainous activity around the country and rest of the world was put into context. The reason why Graceville was now the hub for crime was clear—Kira was testing them, to see how they would respond. He was seeing if they could handle it. While he killed the criminals of the world, Lunatic and the 12th were putting them in prisons.

Yuri looked at Yomotsu for a second, but neither could say anything at the moment. Neither knew what to say, with Luke there. They let him have the first response. Their supervisor looked at the TV in dismay and, swallowing hard, managed to joke, "Well, I think we know now what will be on the news for the next couple of weeks, so we won't have to watch it until this blows over."

Yuri's eyes went back to Yomotsu, then Luke. "But… what if it doesn't blow over?"

Luke looked at him and said, flatly, "I'm sure the police can take care of something like this. He's just another NEXT. Nothing the world hasn't seen and dealt with before. I just hope we don't get caught in the crossfire, with all the weird luck this town has been having lately."

"Yeah," Yuri said quietly. "You're probably right."

Yomotsu looked straight ahead, at nothing in particular, and said from the other couch, "And if Kira does show up here… We have the 12th and Lunatic to defeat him." To Yuri, it sounded both simultaneously like a promise and a fearful question. It was as though he was confident to Luke, but at the same time, pulling Yuri aside and asking him, "Can we do it?"

They had not uncovered any identifiable trace on these days. Of course, they had been observing. From the basement, Yuri kept up with criminal justice around the globe, just as he had in Sternbild. Nothing, however, could be followed. They were all just heart attacks, at various times and in various parts of the globe. They were all criminals, but their crimes varied. The likely motive was, simply, to advance a code of justice. Whose shadow was sweeping over the world, whether an individual or organization, there was no real way of knowing. It would take a detective far greater than Yuri to determine something like that.

He had other things to worry about, such as keeping the day fun for Luke, Yomotsu, and himself. He could not let it show how much this Kira speech had affected him. They had to, unfortunately, put up a front with Luke after all.

"Do you like video games?" Yuri suddenly asked.

Luke returned the question with a smile. "I noticed all the gaming systems you guys have… I admit, I'm pretty good. Especially at strategy games and fighting games. Mercy and I play against each other all the time."

Yomotsu was already firing up the Playstation 2. "And Yuri and I are also masters of a certain fighting game in particular… Thus, let's see put our mettle to the test with some Soul Calibur III. I CLAIM TALIM."

Luke immediately raised an eyebrow at him. "Talim?"

"Yes, Talim!" Yomtosu cried out victoriously.

"No offense, but she's one of the worst players in the entire series," Luke said.

Yomotsu smiled. "Not when I use her. But you'll see. 'Some things can only be conveyed through battle.' Just you see."

Luke rolled his eyes, but then his game face activated. "I'm Zasalamel."

Yuri cracked his neck. "Then I will be Voldo. This battle decides who gets the last breadsticks."

The real battle, though, was not over when Zasalamel pwned Voldo, or when Yomotsu cried "I WILL AVENGE YOUUUU" and used Talim to ring-out Zasalamel. Nor was it over when, after this, the three decided to take turns trying to find ridiculous ways to kill themselves and throw themselves out of the ring for fun. The real battle was between Lunatic and the 12th. This Saturday of pizza and Zazen Boys and Soul Calibur III was fun, but a lot more was on their minds now. For the very same reason Luke joked that they should avoid the news for the next couple of weeks, they knew they would have to study it all the more furiously and go deeper than any paper that could reach their doorstep or any program that could reach their television set. Kira had spoken, and now they had to decide whether or not they would talk back.

It was night out there. Like colored lenses, each progression of the day overlapped that which proceeded it, darkening and muddling the hue in the mind, until all that could be seen in ones thoughts was darkness. Until, in other words, the day was done. At some point, one day gave way to another, and the mind would have to reset itself with a new clean lens. Then something else would color it, and something else on top, and it all ended the same—in a day unrecognizable, in a day buried in color, a day in memory alone.

Yomotsu traced his fingers along the mahogany wood. He felt his way around the sharp corner of the wood and found a shelf. He found a book and slid it out of its position, making a mental note of how far along in the row he had found it.

"Where is it I've read that someone condemned to death says or thinks, an hour before his death, that if he had to live on some high rock, on such a narrow ledge that he'd only got room to stand, with the ocean, everlasting darkness, everlasting solitude, everlasting tempest around him, if he had to remain standing on a square yard of space all his life, a thousand years, eternity, it were better to live like that than to die at once! Only to live, to live, to live! Life, whatever it may be! . . . How true it is! Good God, how true! Man is a vile creature! . . . And vile is he who calls man vile for that."

Yomotsu smiled. She could read from the text, without him even showing her the spot his finger was on. He used his finger to keep this spot in the book and sat in the armchair directly across from where Olivia had her cat, Dostoevsky, sleeping on her lap.

"I had a dream last night that you might find interesting, Yomo," she said, her voice soft in the quiet room. He could hear the grandfather clock ticking, ever running backward as the storyteller went back through her memories. "There was the great ocean all around me, and I was above the waters. But it was night, and the darkness prevented me from seeing my shadow reflect on the waves. So I moved on, until night turned to day, and then I found land. My shadow touched the land, and then the land melted into a million colors. You wouldn't believe it, Yomo, how beautiful it was. Like living through a continuous spectrum of light, but greater, much greater. And out of these colors, a universe formed, and every aspect of creation was just a different shade of me. And when I moved, shapes and figures rippled through the new cosmos. When I breathed and took the sight in, the universe breathed in and out. For a while, I didn't feel alone, because the universe, for all its splendor, appeared to realize it was just a shadow of one being. There was no division… But how lonely would it have been, if I had realized that I was only looking at myself, the entire time? And I wonder if the Creator realized right away what I only noticed when I woke up: I am alone, with millions of versions of myself. And all I see, is myself, and anything I create would only be more me and would not change the fact that I am all there is."

Yomotsu nodded slowly. He had his arms and legs crossed. "And yet, we see a lot of differences among people. If we were all beautiful colors and shapes, created from a great shadow, life would be a lot simpler."

"The problem, in that situation, would not be that we are not created from that great shadow, but that we are ignorant of our identity in a greater Source." She paused, likely to clean off her glasses with her handkerchief or to thoughtfully pet Dostoevsky. "You, me, your friend with the cute butt, all the criminals you have captured, and yes, even Kira… We are so busy separating ourselves, that we fail to see how we are all related."

She took a longer pause.

"I want to meet Shaq. I haven't really followed his career, but he seems like such a nice young man. And I don't even like hockey."

Yomotsu opened the book again, but she did not read from it. Instead, he heard her rise from her seat. She placed her hand on his head.

"Perhaps the Creator thinks that mankind has been a failed experiment. Has the Creator ever had to descend and intervene to destroy a beaver colony because it was 'evil'? Has the Creator had to use divine intervention to silence the howling of wolves? Martyrs line up at history's firing squad, and as the fires of damnation rise upon every generation, we continue through the samsara of philosophies and ideologies. We are still trying to figure out our mankind. The most prominent men gather at summits to talk of peace and progress, yet children die from starvation in a world with unprecedented resources. It's strange, isn't it, Yomo?"

She lightly scratched his head.

"I like you. You are trying to break the cycle. You can't change the world if you only know what you are against. You have to know what—or who—you are fighting for. And right now, you are thinking about who you will be fighting against. Behind every madman exists a foundation of how he became the way he did. Kira is not unique, but what he is capable of certainly is. And not everyone is going to see through his ploys. They will listen to his promises and look back at the past—and they will see the evil throughout history and the failure of mankind to stop it. But as tragic as these evils in the world are, the use of evil to fight evil is a tragedy in of itself. If we were to give understanding, empathy, compassion, love, and community a year of our attention—it would do far more than what Kira intends. In fact, it would have the opposite effect of his resolution."

She sat back down. "He will divide people and make them fear each other. Rather than think of men as brothers, as part of the same creation, Kira will lead them into thinking that their fellow man is a totally separate, potential enemy. His death has no consequence to the other. But my hope still is in humanity. I practice this faith by appreciating the world around me, by teaching children that it is okay to be themselves, and by being a shoulder to cry and lean on. I am the sum of every faith and hope. All that is needed for Kira to fail is for individuals to understand and make a stand; they will not need great power or divine intervention, but simply human patience and love. We need the glory of togetherness. I am a comforter in this time of tears, now and forever…"

He felt that her eyes were on him.

"Yomotsu, Kira will not kill you. I will save you all. But I cannot do that if you and your friend hide yourselves. You must disobey Kira, not because a voice is needed, but because each voice is needed."

She breathed out a soft sigh and shifted her weight in the chair, presumably to look out the window.

"Has it ever occurred to you, that if we simply ate the leaves off trees, we would not have hunger problems in the world? I was sweeping the front porch off the other day, and I realized, 'wow, we should all just eat these leaves.' Why haven't they made me president yet? I am personable and intelligent. I'm good with numbers. I am a number girl, but I am also a philosopher-girl and a writer-girl."

Yomotsu chuckled. "Well, for what it's worth, you're my president, Miss Olivia."