STREETS OF TOKYO
The early morning sun peered down at Sousuke from its height above the cloudless Tokyo sky.
"I have plenty of time to reach the targeted train," Sousuke said, his hair tossed by wind strong enough to kick up small dervishes of leaves and dust. "No… that is not proper wording. I am not targeting the train."
He strode at a goodly pace along a well-swept brick sidewalk, in a stretch of city dotted by old but quaint homes, their owners or renters out tidying up blown leaves and the very rare piece of errant garbage before they began their days.
"Here you go sweetie, this might help." A toothless woman dressed in a simple coat held a bright red ribbon in her hand. "You're so lucky to have such long luxurious hair."
"Affirmative… I think…." Sousuke stood still politely, as the woman tied the ribbon on 'his' hair, binding the fluttering mass of blue into one long pony tail. "I thank you, M'am." Sousuke offered to buy the ribbon, but the woman would not except any form of payment. He offered to help sweep, but the kindly woman would hear nothing off it.
"I wouldn't want you to get dirty of sweaty," the woman said, her eyes opening wide and sparkling. "A girl like you must have a boyfriend at school." She chuckled before suffering a quick wheezy cough. "Maybe more than one."
"None that I know of," Sousuke said. He knew of Fuwa sempai of course, but that was a past thing. He'd know if Kaname had any boyfriend now, wouldn't he? He felt a twinge of jealousy, but easily fought it down. It was an alien feeling, and one he would not tolerate during a mission. But, some things were easier said than done. He and Kaname may still be orbiting each other like planets, but they had grown a great deal closer.
"-" He had another thought. If by some miracle Kaname did have a secret boyfriend, he would not do everything needed to keep up appearances. If a boy tried to kiss or grope him in that body, Kaname would be looking for a new beau. The police would be looking for a missing person.
Resuming his quick pace out of habit, the young operative nodded at more friendly folks who called out greeting or words of encouragement. Was this because these people knew Kaname? Or, was it because she was a nicely dressed and pretty young woman? In his own body, he rarely heard any kind words from strangers. Was that because of the way he looked, or because of the perpetual scowl he wore? It seems that 'being' Kaname Chidori might help him learn about her, and find out things about himself.
"Ahhh-" Sousuke stopped dead in his tracks. A discarded city paper clung to his face, like one of the larval stage monsters in the movie 'Alien.' Peeling it off of his face, he prepared to fold it up and place in his school bag, as there were no trash receptacles on the streets of Tokyo. Looking at the open page, he frowned. 'Copy Cat criminals take inspiration from the Pony Man', one article read. "Well… no one like that will have any gripe against me now…." Once again he felt the strange sensation of 'his' ponytail bouncing in the wind.
"Please... Mariko..."
Sousuke noticed a middle-aged man down on one knee, tempted to prostrate himself before the object of his desires.
"Mariko... my Mariko..." The man looked up at the much younger woman, who looked cross as she made sure no one was watching the embarrassing scene. "Please don't leave me... we're so close... it's like I'm inside of you, and you're inside of me."
Sousuke stumbled slightly, his thought causing the clumsiness, not some loose pebble or uneven bit of concrete. Fate kept laughing at him. He was inside Kaname. She was inside him.
Heading down the main street in this district, he saw a crowd of people gathered around a large fifty-foot ginkgo tree growing in front of a long-standing family store. Everyone was looking upward. Some were calling out cooing noises, while others were shaking brightly-colored streamers. Some newly arrived spectators pointed up at the top of the tree, which hovered gracefully over one of the ubiquitous power pole that lined Japanese avenues.
"Hideki-" A young boy dressed in elementary school uniform wiped his nose, he eyes wet with tears. "Hideki… please come down… Hideki, you're my best friend…."
Sousuke looked up himself. The Hideki in question was a small white cat with a black ring around one eye. That esteemed pet was perched precariously in the top branches of the tree. A number of noisy dogs ran around the base of the tree, some jumping and putting their paws on its trunk, kicking over opened cans of tuna and catnip-scented toys that had been placed there. They were no doubt the cause of the cat's crazy ascent. People on the sidewalk tried in vain to chase the dogs away, or at least rein them in somehow.
"This is not a weapon," Sousuke said, rummaging through Kaname's school bag. There were a small number of small plastic containers with pull tops. He uncapped one and stealthily tossed it amongst the howling hounds. Before long, as if by magic, the dogs left with little more than a whimper or too. Ninjas once used scents to keep away dogs. The old ways still worked today.
"Oh no!" The boy brought a hand to his mouth. Hideki had scampered even further up. The thin branch bent like a bow under his weight. He was mewing in a pitiful fashion.
"What hasn't the fire department sent help," one young woman said to no one in particular. "Someone must have called them."
"Emergency responders will not come, at least not in big cities." A college student spoke up. "They want to always be available for human emergencies. And, their ladder trucks won't reach that height."
"What we really need is someone in a tree climbing profession," an elderly man said. "My son-in-law worked for the forestry department." When he was asked if he would call that man, he replied "No. It wouldn't do any good. The good for nothing slipped on a bar of soap and broke his arm. Really. Soap. Who does that?!"
Sousuke rubbed the bump on Kaname's forehead, feeling a bit foolish then.
"It's not tree climbers you need now," a young woman remarked, moments after a collective gasp of dread rose from the small crowd. Hideki had lost his grasp. He landed on top of the electrical pole, close to deadly transformers and the dangerous hissing lines. "Someone should call the utility company."
"They won't come either," a friend of the college boy said. "They don't want to spook a trapped cat into making a fatal move. They also don't want to put workers at risk from a frantic feline." He mentioned that one man had been suspended for using the extending platform on his truck to rescue a cat from a powerline, since his action violated safety protocols. Members of his community subsequently gathered up money to help the hero through his hardship.
"Those idiots!" The old man cursed. A group of youths with less brains than good intentions had taken it upon themselves to save the day. They had seen been watching a YouTube video; but, while watching it, they had not seen the cat change locations.
"Yehhhh-hhh-hh-h!" One young man swung a pain can around and around like a bolo. It was attached to a long rope. Letting the erstwhile weapon fly, he snared the top bough of the tree. "Alright now, pull!" His friends did so, despite cries from the crowd.
The boys had gotten the idea from a video they had seen. A Russian soldier had gone to extreme measures to help a cat down from a tree. After the paint can trick failed, the intrepid Spetsnaz commando used a folding saw to cut down the tree. The tree fell on power lines, tearing some lose, right before it crashed into a building and broke a number of windows. The cat had, fortunately, managed to run along un-electrified wires to safety.
"No!" The bough broke loose. It fell, landing atop the transformers, which began to smoke and throw out larger and larger arks of electricity. The cat would be shocked if it didn't escape. The poor creature was too frightened to move. To make matters even worse, one transformer burst into flame.
"Gather nets," Sousuke spoke up, trying to think what a Mithril member should do in this circumstance if a human was in danger. "Blankets. Futons. Pillows. Anything which can catch a falling cat, or at least soften the impact." If he had an A.S., he could reach up and save the furry victim. But, that was neither here or there. Kaname Chidori piloting an M9 or Arbalest? Not likely!
"We don't have too much time before those lightning bolts fry the kittie." A young man made wringing motions with his blemish-free hands.
Sousuke had emotionally involved. So much so, that he forgot his first, second, and third priority: getting to school safely, intact, and early enough to tackle any unforseen circumstances that might be waiting for him. He looked around. "I know what to do!" He walked over to a shop undergoing renovation. He picked up what looked to be a six-foot length of PVC pipe, sealed at one end. "I will need dry ice. As much as anyone can get. That, and potatoes."
A good many people questioned his thinking, but he remained silent. Someone knew a good source of dry ice. Baskin Robbins. That ice cream shop places small pieces of the terribly cold substance on the top of their take-out containers, so that customers' ice cream wouldn't melt before they reached home. A good fortune would have it, there was a '31-Flavors' shop just around the corner.
"Ready the blankets," Sousuke said. He had also asked for a large flimsy plastic bottle filled with water. He added dry ice to the bottle, capped it, and dropped it in the tube. He quickly tamped the largest potato in the bore of the tubing. "Ah… good… this appears to be made of ABS." Acrylonitrile butadiene styrene… another popular plastic piping material…more expensive and less common than PVC, but available in the same sizes and pressure ratings. Unlike PVC, it is used in compressed air systems, as it splits rather than shatters on failure. "It won't be long."
"What are you doing, pretty lady." The boy crying for Hideki looked at Sousuke.
"I am not a pretty lady. I'm a specialist." Sousuke motioned for someone to move the boy away to a safe distance. "No. Forget I said that. I am a pretty… lady." He had to keep telling himself that. He must be Kaname Chidori.
"I know what that is," the elderly man said. "That is a potato cannon!"
"I know about those," an equally old man said, another elderly member of the Japanese military. "The potato cannon can trace its origin to World War II… to some weapon… I can't remember its name… it wasn't Japanese…."
"Holman Projector," Sousuke added, surprising to two vets. "Those were contrived as a shipboard anti-aircraft weapons and were essentially pneumatic mortars, using compressed air or high pressure steam to fire an explosive projectile at enemy aircraft. They had been intended primarily as a stop-gap defensive weapon for British merchant ships, which had been suffering heavy losses from Luftwaffe aircraft flying anti-shipping missions, the low altitude at which such strikes often took place that a weapon of such limited range and velocity could throw up an effective screen of fire over a vessel, even if only to create a distracting or deterrent effect, obliging the enemy to bomb from greater heights which reduced bombing accuracy."
The old men went dead silent for a few moments. Who in hell might expect those words… that many words… to come from the mouth of a blue-haired high school girl?
"Well, they were not very effective at stopping aircraft directly," a third vet said, finally getting his tongue to work again. "But…while direct hits were rare, the bombs fired by the projector displayed an unexpected property: the explosion would leave a large puff of black smoke. Firing a large number in quick succession gave the impression to incoming pilots that the target vessel was armed with something far more deadly than the Holman Projector, deterring or disrupting attacks, or convincing the aircraft's crew an attack at greater range would be prudent."
"Right," one of the elderly men corroborated. "Anything which increased the distance of an attack would cause a commensurate decrease in accuracy."
"The Holman Projector had very little success. One cargo ship's crew shoot down two airplanes. That was it. Two for the entire war. For all ships using the device," Sousuke noted. "It became better known for its other uses. Since it had a wide barrel, the projector could shoot nearly anything that could fit inside it; the most popular makeshift ammunition was potatoes."
"Potatoes," one matronly woman said, looking at the gun and the pile of potatoes. She looked at Sousuke and said: "Tsk… tsk… just what are they teaching young ladies in Home Economics these days."
"All spud guns propel projectiles using pressurized gas in the same manner as a firearm," the one vet remarked. "There are four ways that the guns can do this: By the combustion of a gaseous fuel-air mixture….by the release of compressed air through a valve… by the combustion of a pre-pressurized fuel-air mixture…" He left things hanging and gave Sousuke a glance. He could take things home.
"By the explosion of a dry ice bomb placed in the pipe," Sousuke said. "A dry ice cannon uses the sublimation of solid carbon dioxide to generate the gas pressure to propel a projectile. The oldest examples simply involve dropping pieces of dry ice into a tube closed at one end and sealing the other end by jamming the projectile in. When the pressure of the carbon dioxide from the subliming dry ice builds high enough, the projectile will be blown out of the tube." He carefully aimed the tubing, so his shot would bring about his intended effect.
"This is a more modern version." Sousuke patted the device. It was not a weapon. It would not cause him to disobey his orders. "A dry ice bomb launcher. A plastic bottle containing water with dry ice added and quickly sealed and dropped down a tube, which is closed at one end. A projectile is inserted in after it. The water accelerates the sublimation of the dry ice and the pressure from the carbon dioxide gas produced eventually ruptures the plastic bottle and launches the projectile."
"He'll hit the kittie!" Many in the crowd stood aghast. Who would be so cruel or show such poor judgment as to strike a innocent creature with a speeding spud?!
"But at least it will be off of the pole and we can all go about our business," some lout in a three-piece suit said.
B-O-O-M-!-!-!-!
"Kids… do not try this at home…" Sousuke was lecturing the children present, not needing to eye-ball the target any longer. "Adults should follow the same rules as if handling a conventional firearm. Given the frequently improvised materials and construction used in spud guns, it is particularly important for the user to use basic ear and eye protection when operating one."
R-o-w-r-lllll-llll-lll-ll-llll-lll-ll-l
The potato had fragmented into countless tiny pieces, impacting on the post just below the cowering cat.. The exploding spud and the echoing sound of the explosion frightened the cat into jumping. With a gasp of hope and expectation, the net-minders and blanket-brigade helped catch the cat and lay it safely into the arms of the boy, who with a happy smile and tearful eyes told Sousuke that his name Momotaro.
"First time I ever saw anything like that," a half-blind man told the tree, thinking it was his younger brother.
"Time?" Sousuke felt his throat and bowels tighten "Time!" He looked down at Kaname's wrist watch. "Shit!" He took off running. He would miss the train.
"I hope we got that!" An attractive blonde woman in a sharp business suit directed her crew. She was speaking into a microphone. He crew worked digital recorders, boom microphones, and pole lights. "Just who was that blue-haired goddess….' She continues with her morning news feed.
"Meow," Hideki said.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sousuke ran.
Kaname's shoes made a totally different noise than his combat boots would, as he tore down a stretch of sidewalk, dodging fellow pedestrians the way that a football running back tries to dodge defenders.
He ran as if his life depended on it. He leaped over fire hydrants, worker's heads sticking out of manholes, and young children playing with spinning tops on the sidewalk.
Shortcuts weren't short enough. Sliding down rails was exciting; but, it didn't save enough time. Crouching down as he held onto the back of a speeding city bus got him noticed, as groups of people held up their cell phones, internal cameras clicking away.
All was for naught. He arrived at the train platform in time to see his train disappear around the first bend in the track. "This is a problem," he said in a sour tone. "If I wait for the next train, I will arrive at the school too late to do surveillance, or to practice my Kaname-mannerisms." This mission had to succeed. Kaname's school-life and personal reputation depended on it.
"I will need to borrow another bicycle." He had done that before with Kaname, when the two of them were rushing back to school. He had returned that bicycle, bent and broken as it was after he had jumped it off a sharp incline, he and Kaname ending up in a tree. "I will do my best to treat this one better." Sousuke stole the bright blue bicycle…a mamachari… 'Mom's bicycle'… the omnipresent inexpensive bicycle of Tokyo, with multiple gears and a large basket in front.
"Here we go," he said. "Engines to full ahead." He began pumping his legs furiously. The bike shot forth like a bullet from a gun. Hair straight behind him like a horse's tail, he sped along a flat stretch of street, weaving in between slow-moving automobiles. He he came to a steep slope. Picking up speed, he flew down the roadway, shirt fluttering and dancing. Old men and young boys exclaimed 'They're white!' as he passed them by, Kaname's panties visible to all. To the male onlookers, their gaze rivetted on the blue-haired beauty it almost looked like sparkles decorated her wake. Magical Girls were real!
"Pardon me!" Sousuke brushed against a man. He had no time to recognize the man from behind. He had barely missed running over the Jindai janitor, walking along carrying a large plastic bag, his nearest koi fish inside. "Sorry doggie!" He leaped the bike airborne, shooting over a white Japanese Spitz. Frightened, the small dog peed on its owner's foot. "Coming through!" He veered away from a bearded man with a large camera, the lens worth far more than the janitor's expensive koi and custom chainsaw combined.
"Wow." The cameraman… a famous artist working for the biggest city paper and numerous photo-blogs… was struck by inspiration. "She's beautiful." The camera whirred as pictures came in quick succession. "Perfect!" The photos would grace his printed and posted work. The last shot held the image of Kaname's body and a sleek black-and-white patrol care.
To onlookers with a fertile imagination, the curvy and sexy sports car looked like a deadly shark cruising the city street. All it lacked was a fin. The same could be said for the driver of that automobile. Eyes half-crazed, she scanned the environs intently, hunting for the smallest of blood trails. She would stomp down on that gas pedal if she saw the slightest of offenses. "What-" She had seen something out of the corner of her eye. The car began move like a skier on a slalom slope, curving this way and that along colorful gates. "There!"
The car, one of the three Nissan 370 Nismo received by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, rear-wheel drive and powered by a sweet 370 horsepower engine, suddenly sped up excessively. Car number 465 was on the move! Top lights went on. A siren wailed.
The Metropolitan Police has a staff of over forty-thousand officers manning one hundred and two stations in the prefecture. It was Sousuke's luck that the driver of that car was the one person in that forty-thousand that he had no desire to meet again in any circumstance. It was Yoko Wakana, the living embodiment of Miyuki Kobayakawa from 'You're Under Arrest!'
"Damn." Sousuke swore repeatedly under his breath. Once again, he mistakenly believed that he was being chased down because he had stolen a bicycle. The last time, he had actually been accosted because he and Kaname were riding double on a bicycle. Accosted by that very same Yoko Wakana: the same woman he had fought an epic skirmish with, him in the Bonta-kun mini A.S. suit.
"It's her!" Wakana practically drooled. Her partner held fiercely onto the car's 'Jesus strap,' fearing for her life. If she had been in danger before, in the usual dumpy cars they were given to drive, she might find a quick way to the next life in this speedster. "That blue hair!" To Wakana, blue hair was like a red cape to a bull. She recognized Kaname, of course. She wasn't thinking about the time she wrecked a car chasing two teenagers. She was reminiscing about one of the most exciting moments in her violently abnormal life: that very same contest against Bonta-kun. It had turned out to be a draw, and she hated draws. Capturing the Pony Man pervert had gained her a car again; but, she had been left with a sour taste in her mouth.
"Maybe we should-" Rebecca Lee, sometimes called Revy by the other patrol members who watched 'Black Lagoon,' was unaware of Wakana's history with the girl on the bicycle. She was much more interested in the safety of pedestrians, people milling around on the sidewalks, and the shop owners setting up their tables, counters, and yatai carts.
"Shut up!" Wakana's eyes were blood-shot. Her breathing came quickly. "Grab the stun gun, Two Hands! Just pretend you're back in Roanapur!" She was a big-time fan of that anime, too. She felt a kinship with the troubled, confident, loud, competitive, sarcastic, battle hungry, rude, deadly, extremely ill-tempered and ruthless anime Revy, who had been raised by an abusive, alcoholic father, just like Wakana. One day, after fleeing from one of her father's rampages, Revy was arrested, beaten, and raped by a corrupt police officer. Upon being returned home following this ordeal, she shot and killed her father after he callously asked her for another drink, using a pillow as a make-shift silencer. Wakana had dreamed of doing the same, even though she had never been sexually abused.
"But-" Rebecca did not like 'Black Lagoon.' She didn't like being called by the name of a sadistic, incredibly destructive, volatile, gun-crazed psychopath. She didn't realize that the pistol she carried, a Beretta 92F, was an unmodified version of Revy's favorite gun. "The civilians-" She did, of course, realize that she was riding shotgun with a sadistic, incredibly destructive, gun-crazed psychopath.
"Fuck'em!" Spittle dripped from Wakan's mouth. That blue-haired girl… she would know how to find Bonta-Kun. She had beaten up every theme-park mascot she had come across ever since that fateful day, but not a single one put up a good fight. "Fumo fumo!" The car picked up speed yet again.
"If you want me to shoot," Rebecca said, desperate to slow her partner down. "Slow the hell down!" She rolled down her window, and readied her 12-guage shotgun. The gun contained a wireless long-range electric shock projectile produced by Taser International. The XREP… officially named the eXtended Range Electro-Muscular Projectile… contains a small high-voltage battery. "Or I might hit an innocent"
"Who gives a shit!" Wakan pushed the accelerator to the floor. She put a handheld device to her mouth, after turning the outside speaker on. "Pull over. You… with the blue hair… pull over or its jail for you." She paid no heed to the people running for their lives, or leaping through the air, landing in vegetable stalls and on steaming grills.
"I cannot be detained," Sousuke said, pumping Kaname's legs to their physical limit. "I cannot be delayed!" Japanese high schools put up with a lot of different deviant and desultory behavior that their Western counterparts would clamp down on with unrelenting severity. But, there was one thing they would not tolerate: truancy, even to the slightest degree. "I will not apologize." He didn't mean saying he regretted his actions to the authorities. He was referring to the danger he was about to put a large number of people in. He jumped a curb and slid hard to the right, choosing to ride a bit out of his way, down a pathway lined on both sides by gastro-pubs, food stalls, fish vendors, and shops of various types.
"No!" Rebecca called out, nearly fumbling her gun. "You can't go down there!"
"Don't worry," Wakana called out in a shrill voice, snot streaming down from her nostrils and flecks of foam spraying from her tongue. "We'll fit… barely…" The car would fit down the alleyway with a few feet to spare on either side… if the shop owners hadn't put tables and chairs outside, and the vendors had decided to leave their stands, carts, and shelves at home. "They won't, though…." Colorful store flags, old women with walkers, beckoning cats, a long string of unlit lanterns, folding chairs and wooden crates, and a middle-aged scout master from the Scout Association of Japan went airborne. A milli-second later, the Scout master was joined by his scouts.
"On my honor, I promise I will do my best to do my duty to Buddha and the country," one young man cried out, wishing he had gone to school instead of this field trip.
"If I live today," another boy said, his merit badges flying off of his sash. "I will start obeying the Scout Laws…help other people at all times…and to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."
"I will be faithful!" A third boy said.
"I will be friendly," a fourth scout promised.
"I will be courteous," a fifth remarked.
"I will be kind," the sixth said, adding to the chorus.
"I will be cheerful…thrifty…courageous… thankful." Numbers seven, eight, nine, and ten followed suit.
"Suck my ass!" The eleventh and final boy shouted.
"I do not need this!" Sousuke seethed. The handle bar was growing loose, shaking up a storm. If felt as if the chain wanted to jump off of the sprocket, and one pedal had already flown off to its freedom. As luck would have it, Sousuke spied another bicycle, standing unoccupied and unguarded against the side of a stall selling sweet fruit crepes, gyoza, and korokke. He let the bike he was on continue on its way, as he jumped off and commandeered the other. In for a dime, or in for a dollar. What would that be in Japanese currency? He didn't have time to think on that!
"Shoot her!" Wakana's voice sounded a lot like Robert Muldoon in 'Jurassic Park' at that moment, as if she were ordering a guard to shoot a velociraptor. "Shooooo-oooo-ooo-oo-ot herrrr-rrr-rr-r." She grabbed the shotgun from Rebecca. The car plowed through a trio of girls eating takoyaki. Four businessmen on the way to work ended up covered in okonomiyaki, yakitori, and taiyaki when a number of selling stands fragmented in the most explosive manner imaginable. Potted plants leaped out of their pots, shooting upward like rockets one after another, depleting a long stretch of road of its greenery. "Here… take the wheel…."
"I-" Rebecca was too shocked to move at first. She watched in horror as one retiree after another jumped back from their bench, saki and spirits spilling and sloshing as the patrol car careened down the area between bars and restaurants. "I think I need to transfer!" She grabbed hold of the wheel. A bewildering selection of steaming hot vats, aromatic fried bites, and local delicacies jumped skyward as they passed. Large satisfying seafood platters would not be satisfying anyone. The constantly chattering crowd went silent, before bursting out into a symphony of shouts and screams.
"Now I have you!" Wakana readied her shot. Aiming, she began to squeeze the trigger. "Keep the car straight!"
Sousuke had no idea what the pair of policewomen were doing. He saw a chance and he took it. A cargo truck was parked in front of a novelty store. A pair of workers were preparing to carry cargo into the shop. "I hope this will work!" It did. Reaching out his hand he grabbed hold of a lever on the rear of the vehicle. He used his grasp and the bike's momentum to slingshot off of the sidewalk and into the street, heading straight for an alley wide enough for one or two people at most.
"My apologies…" He called out when he struck a man in a ceremonial black robe, a scarlet kaku obi around his waist. "Sorry, sir…." He bounced off another man in similar garb. "Oooops… my bad… send me the bill…." He struck three additional men in succession. Then, without time even to blink, he bowled over a good dozen more. He cursed when he saw their exposed arms. Those markings were tattoos. Tattoos and garb like that meant yakusa.
He was mistaken. The colorful markings were not on skin, but instead deccorated the fabric sleeves of ceremonial clothing worn underneath the robes. The men were not yakusa; they were mourners leaving a wake, about to make their was over to a funeral ceremony. The ashes they were carrying were no longer in the ceremonial urn.
"Uhhh-" Sousuke had been ducking down further, hoping to dodge any bullets fired. None came. Something more deadly to a teenage boy showed up unexpectedly. "Those are-" Prostitutes were standing outside of their brothel, and behind the windows of an adjacent sex club, two of the few remaining establishments that once made up a once large soaplands region. He came perilously close to losing control of the bike when he saw one in a blue wig. She looked like that girl in Hong Kong! Foolishly, he closed his eyes as he kept pedaling. Luckily he didn't hit anything or anyone. Hearing the jangly sounds of a pachinko parlor, he opened his eyes again.
Buildings rushed past. Some were scrap-and-build apartments with clean concrete and polished railings. Others were wooden barracks-like buildings, currently spared the fate of the building that had long since been torn down. Graffiti and street art adorned one side of the alley, while the other was decorated by banners, colorful posters, and other signs of gentrification.
Back at the truck, the lever fell all the way down, just as Sousuke had made it a few bike-lengths along his escape route.. The automatic lift gate lifted. A large number of plush Bonta-kun dolls spilled out, piling up into a great pyramid, and tumbling out onto street and sidewalk. The rain of dolls distracted Wakan at just the wrong moment. Braking to a stop, she inadvertently pulled the trigger. The projectile flew.
The burly and hairy-armed truck driver, sporting a jaunty hat, leaned out of his window when he heard the gate open. Biting down on his third Choco Banana of the morning, he did not see the XREP before it struck him in the neck. Fins open, the cylindrical projectile had released four electrodes, which now spread an electrical charge across the shoulder of the unfortunate man.
"Uuuu-uu-uu-u-" The driver spasmed. He took his foot off the brake. He had not applied the parking brake. That was even more unfortunate, since the tuck was pointed down a slope, with the road T-shaped at the bottom. The truck descended the hill, slowly at first, soon too fast for the workers to reach the cab. Faster and faster it sped, until it crashed into a china shop at the bottom. The name on the side of the truck was 'The Bull Moving Company.'
"That's not coming out of my paycheck!" Rebeccas shouted.
"Don't get your panties in a knot," Wakana said. "I'll write the report. The man was drunk. He stepped on the accelerator instead of the brake. It happens all of the time." At least it did, in her logbooks. "They're not putting me behind a damned desk again!"
"We're saved-" Rebecca coughed. "I mean... whatever shall we do… the perpetrator escaped." The car couldn't fit down that path, even if it were up on two wheels. "I guess it's time to go back to base."
"We'll just go this way," Wakana laughed insanely. She nodded towards a one-way street. One way the other way. "This street will bring us out ahead of that girl." She veered hard left, her hands back on the wheel. "Reload." She swore when Rebecca fumbled a handful of XREP rounds on purpose. The car shot forth from the street like a black-and-white artillery round, sliding sideways before spinning out as the obsessed driver cranked on the wheel. Coming to a stop, she knocked a bento-seller's stand on its side. A man grilling yaki tomorokoshi and shioyaki screamed as his apron burst into flame. A young girl who had collected change for years began crying when her money-purse flew from her hand, bouncing twice before it disappeared down a sewer grate.
"Mrphllbrphllsmrphylll-" Rebecca couldn't speak properly until she spat out a mouthful of bebi kasutera. The sponge cake had been rammed down her throat by impact, almost choking her. "The girl… (cough)… the girl is nowhere… (cough cough cough)… to be seen." That ought to do it.
"I see her," Wakana said, contradicting the other officer. She pointed down a long set of terraced stairs, leading from one platform to another. "She will not get away." She frowned when a businessman, his fancy shirt stained with coffee and bean paste, leaned inside the passenger side window to complain. She didn't notice that his tie got stuck on the seatbelt guide. She wouldn't have acted any differently if she had. "Scram, asshole." She gunned the car again.
"Wait…" The frantic man shouted as he was pulled forward. "Wait… wait… waitwaitwaitwaitwait…." Twisting this way and that, his belt gave way and his expensive European slack flew off. His underwear with its cute red hearts threatened to follow suit. This was shaping up to be a bad day for the influential CEO.
Car and man flew along, down the endless steps with a continuous bumping motion punctuated by short airborne leaps. "That's dangerous," Wakana said ironically, when the Nismo had four wheels on the road again. She was watching Sousuke's bicycle ballet, as he maneuvered the leaping bicycle in remarkable fashion. Rebecca was staring as the frayed remnant of a silk tie. "I really like that girl," Wakana said. "I wonder if she might consider a career in police enforcement."
Sousuke had chosen a very dangerous gambit. He had ridden his bicycle off of the road, through a gate, and onto the set of train tracks that he would have travelled along had he made his train. He wasn't too far from his station. The thing that he… and obviously Wakana… didn't know, was that this was the northbound track, not the southbound. He didn't have a good amount of time to make it off of the track.
"Wait! You can't shoot her." Rebecca froze. Wakana held her pistol out of the car window. "You'll kill her."
"I'm not aiming for her," Wakana replied. "I'll just shoot the bike tire." That was a near impossible shot, with a moving car, a moving bike, and the sun in the driver's eyes. She squinted, the bright light making her see fuzzy white images. "She'll probably survive the fall…."
"Th-th-th-th-" Rebecca was too frightened to get her words out. "The train!" Sure enough, the northbound train was on schedule. The Japanese people did not allow truancy for buses, trains, and planes either. She thought about unbuckling her seat belt and exiting the car. There would be just enough time. She didn't have that chance. The car slid to a stop, and moments later began moving in reverse.
"This is better than Russian roulette," Wakana said, distracted by a new way to put her life on the line. "I can always find that Bonta-kun some other day."
Sousuke had left the tracks. He was running on two feet now, the bicycle standing against a telephone pole, right next to a large basket of umbrellas. He surmised that the loud noise her heard, a tortured scraping and screeching sound, came from a police car flipped on its side, pushed along by a train coming to an emergency stop.
"Gotta run," Sousuke said, looking down at Kaname's watch. A few minutes later he finished his jaunt just moments before the school gates closed with a resounding thud.
Before entering the school building, he took a moment to stand at the corner of a brick wall, surveying the actions of some strangers. A large panel truck had the name of a photography studio emblazoned on its sides. A young man of medium height, not much older than himself by the look of it, fussed with his hair and apparel while directing a large work crew: big burly men and lithe athletic women carrying camera boxes, light stands, screens and back drops, in addition to zipped up duffle bags.
"I do not like new things," Sousuke mused, taking another minute to peruse the building perimeter. The movement out front was not designed to draw the attention away from some nefarious or covert operation out back, was it? "But… I have seen the school yearbooks…."
Satisfied… at least, not overly worried yet… Sousuke rushed to catch up with last students entering Jindai High.
"Kaname… there you are… hurry!" Kyouko was waiting for her just inside the building.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Again, this chapter was written together with the next, but split in two for 'easy' reading. As if anything about this story has been easy.