"Shimada."
Genji turned from the blast doors to find the commander striding towards him. Alarmed, he quickly snapped to attention in a salute. "Sir?"
The commander grimaced. "At ease. You may drop all the formalities when we're outside training."
Genji relaxed. "Is there something you require?"
"Something you do, as a matter of fact. Here."
"This is… what is this?" The small black object that sat in Genji's hand stood in stark contrast to the white of his armor. It was a cube; larger than an average dice with another critical difference: its six sides were blank.
"That is a holographic communicator," Jack said, "currently broken and in need of repair. Unfortunately, the ship lacks the spare parts to do so, and since I've heard that you're already given the task to acquisition certain materials for Miyamoto, you can get this fixed along the way."
"Can't you send someone more qualified?" The cyborg paused. "I don't really know a lot of things."
The soldier waved him off. "Of course I can. I'm just choosing not to. You do it."
"What is it for? What about the…" Genji shuddered. "The metal thing on my back?"
"The bio-tag? Won't work across large distances, didn't Winston tell you? I'm giving you this because it's one of the conditions Angela gave me for bringing you here."
The cyborg regarded the strange object. "I can speak to her through this?"
"Provided you can get it working." He pull out a slip of paper. "Here's the address. It's in the heart of the city."
"Thank you," said the cyborg accepting the slip. He remembered something. "I'll need… I'll need — he pulled out notes of currency he was given — these things, right?"
The soldier regarded him in disbelief. "You're telling me you remember the name of some obscure Japanese throwing knife, but you don't have any recollection of money?"
Genji shrugged. "They're not throwing knives. Just simple farming—"
"Either way," Jack cut in, "when you get to the place, just mention my name and have the guy handle it. He owes me a couple of favors anyway."
"You come here often?" he asked curiously.
"I was stationed here before I was sent on my mission to Singapore. Place feels like home to me. One of Miyamoto's tasks for you is to learn the lives of the people here, correct?"
"It is so."
Genji waited for a piece of advice, maybe a place or a path to follow to get started. None came.
"Be at shooting range one at oh-nine-hundred hours. Till then, you have free time. Sleeping quarters open at seventeen-hundred hours for the recruits. You're in number three." With a curt nod, the commander retreated from where he came, ducking through a door. He hesitated, one hand on the frame. "Good luck. With Korea." He shut the door behind him.
"What was that about?"
Genji turned around. Approaching him was the man he first seen on the ship. "The lord."
He drew his mouth into a line. "Stop that, please. It was a joke, and I've enough problems as it is."
"As you wish."
He sighed, and looked to the door. "Strange that you're taking this gate out. The recruits normally leave by gate four."
"And you?"
"Less people come here, so less traffic, and the faster I can get onto land," he said, shrugging. "It's been a while since I was back here, and I faster I get my money changed, the more time I have for myself."
"Money… changed?" Genji scratched his head. He couldn't feel it, of course, but he found that it helps him think.
"Yeah. All I have is Chinese currency right now. We just came from China."
Remembering something, Genji said, "You said we would arrive the next day, in the morning."
The man grew visibly uncomfortable. "Well, the storm passed and the sea seems to be favorable, it not that much of a surprise…" He paused, squirming. "It's not like I misread the map or anything."
A moment passed between them, the blast doors hissing at the sides as they slowly pulled open from the frame. Genji started laughing. When his laughter earned him a glare, he laughed harder.
"Not a word. I'm serious. Not a word to nobody, alright?" he gushed.
"I promise." Genji realized something. "You don't seem uncomfortable around me, not like all the others here. And you do not know me."
"People are uncomfortable with what they don't understand," he replied, calming down. "Don't be so hard on them. And with the rumors going around of another Omnic Uprising, it gives people a bad impression of your kind. It's unfair, but there you go."
What?
"But I personally don't believe in any of that hogwash. And even if I did, I don't judge a person — he paused — well, in your case omnic, on where they came from or what people say about them."
Genji waved his hands in front of him. "I'm not—"
"Don't pretend to be someone, or something else. You don't have to change for anyone." His eyes hardened. "Frankly, I'm not impressed with this batch of recruits. You would think from where they come from and how they were chosen, they would already have known to not make assumptions about others…" He sighed. "But such is the function of the human condition. I never introduced myself to you, haven't I? Sergeant Rivers." He held out a hand.
The cyborg remained silent as he took his hand and shook it, the doors slowly opening fully with a metallic yawn. The corridor beyond was more dimly lit, with a simpler pair of sliding doors at the end.
"Well, let's go." He paced purposefully through the doors and into the corridor, Genji following behind. Reaching the end, he hit a large button to the side of the wall with a fist, and the doors quickly slid open to the salty evening air.
He blinked, shielding his eyes from the momentary brightness. Genji took a moment and waited for his eyes and visor to adjust itself to it, before looking up and having his breath taken away.
It was an amazing sight, even from the docks. Bright, multi-faceted buildings pierced the clouds, with shorter ones encompassing their perimeter. The lights from them shone and winked from windows, glowing like a huge gem, dispersing every shade and hue of light into their surroundings. It colored the evening sky: rays beamed out into the night, and painted each cloud a flavor, giving an impression of giant bunches of floating cotton candy. How can they be built so high? the cyborg thought in awe.
The cyborg felt no sense of inexplicable familiarity, as he did other things. It wasn't very long ago that he lost his memories, but he was sure he had never seen anything like this before. Life spilled from the kaleidoscopic city from the buildings to the traffic he could barely hear from the distance, carrying so much activity in a single scene that the cyborg could only attempt to drink it all in at once.
Through glass panels that walled the skyscrapers, he could perceive the constant movement of its inhabitants with the aid of his visor. The men and women within who were clad in uncomfortable looking tight, black and white clothing paced briskly back and forth, carrying cases, papers, and the occasional phone to their ears. They all had an urgent yet stoic expression about their faces as they did so, except for one in a corner who lay sprawled across a table, head resting in his arms. Genji hoped he was alright. Drool glimmered on his desk, soaking into his tie.
"Well, I'm off this way," said the sergeant as he jumped off the ship onto a metal platform which connected to the dock. It rang from his landing.
"Wait," called Genji, reaching out, "where can I find the markets? I know nothing of this place."
"Same here. All I know is that the moneychanger's this way. Good luck!" he replied over his shoulder, waving as he walked off.
Looking around, Genji realized that the docks carried no splendor the city in the distance embodied, but it did carry a charm of its own, in its own quiet way. The docks themselves were a plain expanse of concrete with several short pillars lining the edges to anchor ships to the shore, but the huts and houses built along its outlines were quaint, picturesque little things made of brick, wood, and concrete for a few. Some were taller than the others, some were wider and larger, in pleasant disarray. Not two were the same.
So this is Korea, the cyborg thought as he carefully stepped out onto the concrete. It is beautiful here. He watched fishermen rein in between larger ships, hauling nets of today's catch over their shoulders and shouting in a strange language, adding to the cacophony of squawking seagulls, bells and whistles.
He approached a nearby fisherman who was busy tossing empty nets out onto the shore. Clad in high brown boots and a bulky black windbreaker, his breath misted in puffs with each exhale. It was cold, Genji could tell, but isn't especially affected by. He seemed quite insulated against it.
"Hello," greeted Genji. The man turned to him. His expression darkened. The cyborg hesitated. "Do you… understand me?"
Abruptly, he turned away, lifted his heap of nets and paced towards a small wooden shack. He promptly shut the door behind him.
For a reason the cyborg couldn't explain, he felt an odd sense of embarrassment and shame. He wasn't sure how to deal with his new surroundings. All he knew was the isolation of the watch point and the friendliness he found there. He felt a pang of sadness. He missed it greatly.
He decided to try again. Even having steeled himself, he still found himself in considerable unease when another fisherman turned from him and walked away without so much a word, not giving Genji a chance to finish this sentence this time. It wasn't animosity or even disgust; just cold, nonchalant indifference. They gave him no indication of whether they understood him or not.
How was he supposed to discover details about the lives of people here, if they did not even want to speak to him? Feeling troubled, the cyborg looked around, wondering about his next course of action. The only way left to go is forward, he thought, the doctor's words echoing in his head.
The doctor. Genji pulled out the slip of paper the commander given to him and inspected it. New Myeong-dong 71 street, #01-22. Genji looked up to a nearby signpost. New Myeong-dong, 66 street. He smiled. Basic arithmetic wasn't robbed from him, at least.
Stowing away the piece of paper, he took a deep breath, and stalked off down the path leading to the sixty-seventh street. The air hung heavier here, in contrast to the light coolness of the watch point. Serendipitously, he found himself to be walking through a market; it was lined with stores built into the buildings which flanked the street where the higher levels seemed to be residences, where windows across its façade ranged varyingly in its design, color, and states of open or closed. Genji looked up. It seemed to go on for quite a height, twice the tallest building on the Rock of Gibraltor.
Besides the shop houses, standalone stalls elevated by wheels occupied the outer perimeter of the street, goods laid out on cloths and planks while their peddlers loudly advertised them. Genji didn't understand a word. One thing is for certain, however. It was a nagging suspicion at first, but he could deny it no longer. The shopkeepers, in the buildings or otherwise, would quieten when they saw him before hastily tearing their eyes away, and continue with their business as he passed.
Like he was carrying an aura of silence, where he loudly existed in the absence of sound.
The cyborg tried to ignore it, to put on an air of callousness that was shown to him. It didn't help very much.
Despite this, he kept an eye out for any of the items that was asked of him, nervously clutching at the crumpled notes in his hand. Before long, he came upon a stall that sold eggs. Only eggs. From the top to bottom shelves, every available surface was filled with them. Every size and color decorated it, with a man leaning on the counter coolly behind it, a slightly bored face peeking out between the racks of eggs.
He wasn't very different from the others. It was obvious he wasn't very enthusiastic about his job, and he moved his gaze away from the cyborg almost immediately after they made eye contact, but sighed and returned it when Genji came right before him, unable to ignore him any longer.
"And how may I help you?" he asked reluctantly, in clear English.
Genji hid a sigh of relief. "Hello. I would like some eggs—"
"Omnic! An omnic!" cried the voice of a child. Genji looked behind the man, seeing a young boy sitting on a chest, swinging his legs. He was playing with a wooden ball, intricately carved with patterns. His lips were spayed in a playful smile.
"Quiet, boy!" the man hissed, turning. "Keep your voice down, and not another word!"
"A real omnic!" the child yelled shrilly, heedless. "I haven't seen one this close before. What's your name, mister? Do you have a name? Do omnics have names?"
The shopkeeper anxiously glanced around. He rounded on the child. "Silence! This instant! You will not speak of them. We do not speak of them!"
"But father," he said quieter, eyes growing wide, "you told me about them. I want to know more."
"You know not what you speak," he replied urgently. He seemed to have forgotten about Genji. "I told you about them, so you should know precisely why you should at this moment shut your mouth!"
"But I'm curious!" he whined.
"No but's—"
"What about the—"
"Silence! Now!"
"—the Revolution?"
The shopkeeper sprung up, as though jolted by electricity. Without meeting Genji's eyes, he pulled a lever on his stall. The shutters slammed closed as he cuffed the boy's mouth with a hand, leading him away and into a door behind them. Genji listened to his indistinct mumbling, holding his gaze, before the door slammed shut, hiding them from view.
Genji stood on the spot, processing what just happened. The… Revolution? He shook his head, frustrated. He came to Korea to find answers, not more questions. But it seemed like on every turn, he was running into everything at odds with him without the slightest inkling on why that might be. He looked around. People around were openly staring now, only looking away when he faced them. Genji felt himself growing angrier at this.
There was nothing more he could accomplish here. He continued his journey to the heart of the city, still thinking about the child that showed an interest to who he was … Or what he was. The cyborg looked at his hands as the sound of traffic slowly grew louder, the lights getting brighter. He stared at metal things imitating fingers and palms as they pivoted inwards on metal joints as he clenched his fists, and how they extended outwards as he unfurled his fingers one at a time.
What is this sinking feeling in my heart? he thought, forming fists again, and watching again. Regret? Sadness? So much I do not know, should I hope to understand? He remembered Winston's promise of full disclosure. A promise miles away.
Genji stopped and looked up. And through conflicted feelings and confusion, he felt a profound sense of awe from seeing the city from the inside. How long had he walked?
The city was bright. There was no better way to put it. A myriad of colors took the scene, flashing and blinking before they winked out or changed to another color. Traffic lights, headlights, signboards and naked lightbulbs were among the notable few that contributed to it. Genji felt more comfortable here. The throng he found himself a part of pushed against him as people hurried past, but never giving him a second look. There was just too much going on.
He let himself get pushed along, following the crowd, before making an advance of his own when he realized he was being steered the wrong way. He pushed his way to the sign which pointed him deeper into the city to his destination, when somehow, through the constant noise of people talking over each other, the traffic and honking of more than a few vehicles, he heard the unmistakable sound of soft crying.
Two. Two voices he heard crying, sobbing and sniffling, overlapping one another. He turned to his left. Through the bodies of moving people, he caught a glimpse of a pair of very young girls huddled against a lamppost, eyes wide with confusion and fear as they frantically searched the crowd that pressed against them.
Genji found himself pushing his way towards them, without a second thought. When he got closer, he saw that one girl had chestnut hair which fell below her shoulders with similarly brown eyes, while the other had black hair, like a starless night sky which shade her eyes also shared. The latter saw him approaching first.
Genji paused in his tracks and watched the color drain out of the girl's face at the sight of him, before seeing something behind him and smiling widely, delight taking on her features. She hurried through a forest of legs and embraced a squatting woman who looked very much similar to her, tears in both their eyes. The cyborg looked back. The other didn't seem to realize her friend was gone. She had given up scanning the crowd and resolved to sitting on the ground, hugging her knees with her head tucked between them. Her shoulders twitched, jerking up and down as she sobbed while the fabric of her jeans became dampened with tears.
Eyes wide with fear. Fear greater than being lost and confused. Genji hesitated. Should he help the girl when his mere appearance engendered such terror in the other? Will he help at all? Will it spur her to dash into the crowd in a panic, leaving her in a worse position than before?
Should he leave? Let someone else deal with it?
No.
He carefully stepped beside her and knelt down. The soft sound of resigned crying tore at him. In some ways, it was a lot worse than the frantic, panicked sobs that he heard before. As softly and tenderly as he could, he touched her shoulder. To tell her that he was there.
Slowly, so very slowly, she raised her eyes. Half-lidded swollen red eyes gradually widened at the sight of Genji, at the realization of what she saw. They continued to widen with understanding, until there was no more grief in them. There was just no more room for it as they became filled with pure, unadulterated fear.
"I will not hurt you," he said softly, but clearly. Slowly. "I want to help you. Do you understand me?"
The girl froze. She sat perfectly still, like a statue. The moment stretched on for an eternity. Just when Genji began to consider leaving before he did any more harm, she nodded the slightest amount, still keeping her eyes on him.
A small victory. "Have you lost your mother?"
Another tiny nod.
"Do you remember where you came from?"
She glanced quickly to the left, then the right, before resting her eyes on him once more. Some fear had since left them. Tears began welling in her eyes as she stared at him.
"Shh. It will be okay." He sat down next to her, but made sure not to touch her. The people passing them gave them strange looks. "There is nothing to fear. You will find your way home."
The girl returned her head to her knees. Her shoulders still shook, but not as much as before. She mumbled something.
"What was that? I did not hear you."
She raised her eyes at him, teary and scared. "Promise?"
How strange. Genji made a mental note to talk about this to the doctor later. He was quite sure he just felt something break inside him.
"I promise," he answered solemnly. "And I will not leave you until you do."
The girl sniffed and hesitated, before shuffling herself closer to him. Leaning on his arm, she gasped and heaved one or twice more before settling down. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, just quieter now. She closed her eyes.
Genji awkwardly reached over with his other hand and patted her on the head. She didn't seem to mind, so he kept patting her on the head. Awkwardly. He let some time to pass. After a while, the girl looked almost asleep. She was breathing slowly now, eyes still closed, still leaning on Genji.
He hesitated. "Are you… asleep?"
She shook her head.
"Dead, then?" he tried. He immediately regretted his words.
She giggled. The sound of it filled him with glee and cast his regret to oblivion.
"Are you ready to start looking for your mother?"
She nodded into his arm. Then she stood up, and clumsily dusted her pants. Her eyes were still puffy, but they were calm now. Kneading them with a hand, she reached for Genji's hand with the other.
Genji felt something in him twist at the sight of this. "Would you like to rest a little bit more?"
The girl coughed. "No," she said softly. "I'm okay now."
"All right. Where do you feel like going? Which path seems the most familiar?"
She considered for a moment, thoughtful. Looking between the junctions, she finally pointed to the one on the right.
A few moments into walking, she broke the silence. "You won't leave, right?"
"No," he confirmed kindly. "I swear on my… on my—" What did he have to swear on? Not much, to be honest. Maybe he did once, but there was the small issue of him not remembering a thing. "—on my name," he finished lamely.
The girl glanced up at him quizzically.
"My name is Genji," he added, pausing. "What about yours?"
"Hana."