Warning:
Exceedingly dense chapter ahead. Take all necessary precautions.
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MATHEMATICS CLASS
Sousuke walked into the classroom, somewhat in a daze.
In a daze would be putting things politely. He was desperate beyond desperation, and feeling foolish beyond all possible foolishness.
He still had not arrived at any kind of solution for his Japanese History dilemma. And, to top things off so to speak, he was feeling rather sheepish about the whole hair-dying incident. Sheepish and on edge, his whole mind alight, as if he had interpreted a set of orders incorrectly, lost an important battle, with the blood of his comrades literally on his hands.
For the safety of everyone in that classroom… no, maybe the entire city… or the whole world… it would be best that no one commented on his…Kaname's… hair. That included the teacher. Speaking of which, the teacher had not made it to the room yet.
"Whoa!" Hisashi Uehara exclaimed. He was a good enough player to be captain of the boy's baseball team as a second year. "Who's that babe? A new transfer student?"
"That's no babe," Makoto Ono said, an equally good athlete and ahead of the boys' soccer club. "That's Chidori." He had been rejected by Kaname in the past. On multiple occasions.
"With a black wig," Keisuke Kagawa remarked. He was another member of the soccer squad. And another rejected sujtor."Hey! Chidori! Who do you think you are, Sadako?" He was making reference to 'The Ring's' shambling, straggle-haired ghoul, the movie character who had started a craze for what became known as 'dead wet girls' …onryo… ghost-like beings whose violent, lovelorn or otherwise unhappy demises leave them wandering through the earthly realm after death, instead of passing over peacefully to the afterlife.
Sousuke's trigger finger twitched. His eyes narrowed. He felt Kaname's teeth clench.
"Don't be ridiculous," O-ren Juri said. The barely passable looking girl also had gripes with Kaname. "She's more like the Yuki-Onna from 'The Woman of the Snow.' Leaving people's heart cold. Or, like the woman from the other part of 'Kwaidan'… you know, from 'The Black Hair.' She looks like she's alive, but she's dead inside."
"I think she looks good in black hair," Rumiko Arakawa said. She was an Anime Club fan whose love for the genre bordered on obsession. "However, in cases where the anime character has long, flowing black hair, it can be intended as a shorthand for noble lady…Japanese princess… idol of the whole school. It doesn't always mean 'typical' or 'like everyone else,' like black hair in general. It can overlap with the yamato nadeshiko."
That was a complicated Japanese aesthetic and cultural concept. Well done, such a character will show a subtle touch of iron, being unwilling to let people or things hurt the ones she cares about, or distract her from her goals or missions Poorly done, a yamato nadeshiko will turn out to be the ultimate doormat. Kaname an idol? Certainly, in some student's minds. But her iron was obvious, not subtle, and she would never be anyone's doormat, unless she had to play that role to save the people that she cared about.
"It might be best-" Sousuke felt his pulse begin to race. His reptile brain felt threatened, as if someone had dropped a figurative Oxygen Destroyer in the room.
"Well, anything beats blue hair," Koji Matsuzaka said, another die-hard baseball boy. And, another person Kaname had rejected. "What's that mean?" He looked over at Rumiko.
"Blue typically signifies a quiet, soft-spoken, intellectual, sometimes even introverted character, the girl replied. In addition-" She was interrupted.
"Quiet?" Shing-Shen Xing laughed. "Kaname? Quiet? And intellectual? Pleassss-sss-ss-se. She only pretends to be so smart." He wasn't an athlete. He was a mathlete. He was a pimple-face geek and a momma's boy, yet thought he was the cock of the walk. Thing's just didn't add up.
"It would be for everyone's best interest-" Sousuke still could not get a word in.
"Wise, impartial, talented, mature, intuitive, introverted, concerned with science, justice, reason," Shiina Himejina said. She was another anime freak. Her room at home had little room for a futon, filled as it was by boxes of figurines and ceiling-high stacks of manga. "Blue-haired female characters are cool like water… or cold like ice. They are not always noticed, but their influence is clearly felt, somewhat like the wind. They have many hidden talents, and a keen awareness of the emotions of themselves and others. Unlike black-haired characters, they are not averse to seeking advice. They often play the role of teachers, tacticians, and confidants. The darker the hair, the more responsible…but, alternately, they may be an elitist jerk. Supernatural abilities are common to blue hair."
"Elitist jerk," Hidetoshi Honda said. Another soccer player. "Now you're talking. "But the only thing she's hiding is the thing shoved far up her ass. Supernatural powers? Like she's been possessed by some dead woman? Shit!"
"She-" Sousuke's natural need to stand up for Kaname was rising like a great beast from the depths. This wasn't the first time that he had heard someone insult Kaname. But, now he was Kaname, at least in body. He felt like he was being insulted, too.
"I think yellow hair would fit her better," Gisaburu Yoshida said. The boy had been black-balled before, kept out of the Anime Club. "Yellow-haired girls are confident, happy, romantic, artful, whimsical, naïve, ditzy, impish, manipulative, callous, or stubborn." He put a strong emphasis on the last three words. "They often fall into three different categories. You know, like the Dumb Blonde: They may be immature and selfish, too." He was looking at a particular girl with hair dyed blonde.
"He's right," Mari Hiromushe was one of the girl's that had black-balled the boy, and the one with blonde hair. "Maybe for the first time in his 3-D life." She was a big fan of 2-D, naturally. "Yellow hairs can be trouble makers, or they can cause chaos unconsciously. They often have street-smarts, charm, and a bag full of of tricks." She laughed. "That leaves Chidori out."
"The third type is very uncommon," Gisaburu said. "Unlike Mari, who is as common as they come. No, even more common than common. The commonest!" He was on the verge of hyperventilating. "They fit the Western trope… the Prince Charming one… and they are chivalrous…humble… and pure."
"Pffff-fff-ff-t!" Hidetoshi snorted. Had he been drinking milk, it would have come shooting put from his nostrils. "Humble? Chidori? But pure, that I'll buy. Who would want her?" He waved his arm in Sousuke's general direction.
"I might-" That response had Sousuke feeling very uncomfortable. Why had he said that? And, he had let that slip in front of everyone. But, they didn't hear, and didn't know that it was his mind responding, not hers. His confusion almost put out the burning fuse of anger.
Almost.
"Girls with yellow hair can also be the rude or inconsiderate foreigner", Gisaburu noted. You know… a non-Japanese character with an abrasive or rude personality…' He looked over at Kaname's body. "Chidori was in America for a while. Maybe that counts."
"You're all wrong," Daidai Yoon claimed. "She probably has red hair hidden under blue. Red-haired girls are tomboyish…inconsiderate… loud… they can be headstrong… and sometimes fit the 'leader. archetype. They are the type wo often speak their mind without holding back… or act rash or even stupid. Flagrantly dark orange hair girls are often the same. Both types often have really big appetites."
"Tsundere alert," Gotoku Muto a soccer player piped in. "And those anime girls have explosive emotions. And that's really odd, since red-hair guy are often calm, humble, and disciplined fighters." He shrugged. "The girls are often passionate, seductive, feisty, enthusiastic, adventurous, dynamic, primal, hot-headed, aggressive, opinionated."
"Opinionated? Chidori?" Keisuke feigned disbelief. "Chidori?" many of the other students chuckled or laughed out loud. "Red haired girls play an aggressive role, alright. Just ask Sagara. He's probably in a hospital somewhere, in the HCU… the Halisen Care Unit!"
"No!" Shohei Murakami called out. The baseball club catcher said: "He's probably at band camp… since Kaname plays his head like a damn drum!"
"Uhhh-hh-h-" Sousuke blinked rapidly. The boy did have a point there.
"Green hair," that was Mizuki. "It's green hair. That's what she should wear!" She still ached over Shirai, and had developed feeling for Tsubaki, who had ignored her in his muddle-headed desire for Kaname. "They're poisonous… they're jealous… jealous of other girl's boyfriends." She put a hand to her mouth and frowned, remembering Sousuke's kiss.
"Wrong," Shiina sneered. "Green invokes Mother Nature. You know… evolving over time… having a helpful healing type of temperament."
"Hah! Or bringing death and destruction," Daidai added. She viewed Kaname Chidori as the match that often set the Sagara blaze alight. "And they side with the male protagonist, even when they leave a bad first impression." And, who could leave a worse first impression than Sousuke… third, fourth, and fifth impression, too. Seventh impression. Don't forget second impression. No. It was Sousuke who should have the red hair, but only if he were a she. Wait. That's a weird thought. Gender bender stuff only happens in manga and the like.
"I think she should go pink," Kyouko said, feeling a bit shy. She had nothing against blue hair; but, she wanted to say something positive about her BFF. "Pinks are benevolent… cheerful… orderly… accomplished….and innocent. Anime girls with pink hair often bring about a positive change in others." Being friends with Kaname had done her a world of good.
"Just a tip, ladies." Mari butted in. "Guys in with pink hair can be a bit perverse, so watch out! "And some of the girls can look pink, but act more like reds."
"Like Sakura," Shing-Shen said. "Sweet Saaaa-aa-a-kurrrr-rrr-rr-rr-ra…." He was a big Naruto fan.
"Fuck her!" Koji blurted out. His emotions pushed him to that point. Otherwise he would never have admitted a Naruto-fetish in front of the other sports types. "Hinata rules! You go girl!" He folded his arms across his chest. "Everyone used to say Sakura was the shit and Hinata had no chance. Naru-Hina rocks!" He was also a fan fiction fan.
After that, some of the students went through the anime hair colors. They always tried to find some good thing about them, and then say Kaname did not qualify, or accentuate the bad points, and lay them squarely on her lap. The camel needed only one more piece of straw to end up with a broken back.
Just a minute before the teacher finally made his arrival, Hangyeol Hwang shouted out. He was grade-obsessed, and very frustrated. Kaname always seemed to score better than he did, and often laughed off her success, making his hard work seem pointless and futile. "She should be a purple hair. A dark purple hair. That kind of character is rare. No, almost extinct. And Kaname Chidori should be extinct!" A small pool of spittle oozed of the edge of his pencil case.
Extinct.
The dictionary definition of extinct was 'Something that no longer exists and has no living representative'. The best example was dinosaurs, which before long might be joined by pandas and polar bears. The Sousuke Sagara definition was 'A threat to Kaname's person, theoretical or otherwise, even if the perpetrator is only acting out a harmless fit of envy and self-loathing'. In his current mood, he painted more than one person with the same derogatory and destructive brush. He held his cell phone under his desk. He activated a special app. The initial result was explosive… literally. The subsequent happenings were beyond explosive.
Weeks before, the teacher had given everyone an assignment. Because of unseen events, the work had never been handed in. But, Sousuke had misheard the teacher, and had done a physical assignment, one which was still in place.
'Trap the Mouse' is a computer-based learning game, one designed to improve a child's logical thinking and spatial reasoning. It was used by teachers to help students make sense of problems and to persevere in solving them. It caused them to look for structure and to make use of it. The teacher had also made reference to 'Color Trap', 'Trap the Pig', 'Trap the Cat', and 'Trap the Zoid.' The class assignment was to use any type of math necessary, along with the required computational skills, to design a game that a young child student could play at school, sitting at his or her desk. Sousuke had been woolgathering at the time, running over the plan for an upcoming mission in his mind. All he had heard was 'construct'… 'trap'…and 'at student's desks.' As usual, a mistake took the form of misconstruing and maladaptation.
"I believe his desk is number '5," Sosuke said to himself silently. He pushed the number '5' on the phone.
BAMMM-MM-M-FFF!
A small charge went off. That triggered release of a gaseous mixture under pressure, spaying up at an angle and coating Mari with a sticky gray goo. It was synthetic skunk scent. If possible, it smelled worse than the natural anal gland contents of the defensive animal, which is a close relative of Palawan stink badger and the Sunda stink badger, inhabitants of the western islands of the Malay Archipelago: Sumatra, Java, and Borneo and in the case of the Palawan stink badger, the Philippine island of Palawan. Some student of another class would later nickname the stricken girl as Suzy Stink Badger. An ultimate unexpected consequence.
Of a historical note, Kurz Weber had made the mistake of taking a nude photograph of Melissa Mao, while the two of them were on a training mission with Sousuke, camping on Mount Mantalingajan, the highest point in the province of Palawan. After spending a day gathering intel from the Tau't Bato tribe, they had bedded down for the night. Kurz found a stink badger in his sleeping bag. Remnants of the odor clung to him for months.
Students began coughing and sneezing. A fair number had to fight the urge to vomit. Some thought to escape the noxious odor of the room, but were halted by Sousuke's corrrective action. "If it is not '5', it is probably '7.' He pushed another button.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZ-ZZZZZZZZZZ-Z-ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ-ZZZ-ZZ-ZZ
The seats in the back row Were all wired for electricity, With terminals on the underside attached to small Black Technology batteries. Those were the seats that had been claimed by members of sports clubs and teams. The boys and girls sitting in their seats shook in place, mouths rigid and open, bodies shaking, hair sticking out straight and staying that way. When their mouths began moving again, no sounds came out. The other student looked frantic, picturing themselves in a situation no different than the one in the film 'Kajaki', also known as 'Kilo Two Bravo', where a small unit of heroic British soldiers positioned near the Kajaki dam in Afghanistan set out to disable a Taliban roadblock In a dried out river bed, they found themselves trapped in an unmarked minefield, a relic of the Soviet campaign in the 1980s.
"I could have sworn it was '7'… or '5'…." Sousuke shrugged. If at first you don't succeed, try tray again. If one shot won't kill the enemy, try a few more. "Let's see… how about '9'… or maybe ;0'." He pushed one button, and impatient, pushed a second without seeing who the target of the first one was. He knew the general area o the room targeted. All of the students seated there had spoking ill of Kaname.
WRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO-WRRRR-OOOO
WZZZZ-UUUU-WZZZZ-UUUU-WZZZZ-UUUU-WZZZZ-UUUU-WZZZZ-UUUU-WZZZ
The sounds were barely audible to the human ear. No one further than a desk away could hear them. But, the vibrations could be felt in every inch of the classroom. The first set of targets were hit by a concentrated sonic beams in the solar plexus region; the secret scientific weapon triggered an explosive reflex contraction of the circular muscle in the colon, propelling feces in a fast and furious fashion, far beyond the rectum. What was comical and make-believe in South Park… the 'Brown Note'…was real in the arsenal of Mitrhil. They possessed many devices that could serve as practical deterrents in the proper scenario.
Plain and simple, Hangyeol Hwang shat his pants. So did Daidai and Gisaburu situated in the chairs behind him. Liquid stool leaked out from the bottom of their pants and formed a brown pool at the feet of the victims' chairs.
But, that was not all.
If there was an actual Brown Note, there was also a similar but mechanically much different Yellow Note. Shing Shen was the target for that one. The intense sonic beam set off the necessary coordination between the central, autonomic, and somatic nervous systems, prompting action in the boy's brain centers that regulate urination, including the pontine micturition center, periaqueductal gray matter, and the cerebral cortex. It was a real pisser, in a literal sense. Mizuki drenched her pants, her seat top, and a ten-foot radius of floor tiles. The students seated in the desks encircling hers fought hart to hold their water. Two were unsuccessful.
"What-" Takebe Mochizuki, the Mathematics teacher strode into the room, late from a teacher's meeting. "How-" He looked at the boys with hairdos befitting a Japanese horror movie. There were small tendrils of smoke streaming off of that hair. A wall of stench struck his nose, and he doubled over for a moment. Quickly, he opened a desk drawer, un-taped a special key, and rushed over to the large windows lining one wall and opened those windows, letting in a strong burst of air. When he replaced the key, Sousuke took keen notice.
"I'm sorry, we don't have time for that now." Mr. Mochizuki's voice was very nasal. He was using fingers to pinch his nose. "We've lost some time already. I apologize for that. We need to get to your assignments, before we can move onto a new lesson plan tomorrow." The afflicted students had asked to be allowed to use the school showers, or to visit the school nurse. "Let's see. Yesterday we went over the mathematic behind the sorobam," that was the Japanese abacus. "And, we demonstrated how a trained soroban user can do calculations faster than someone using a calculator. And, we saw how someone using azna sorobam… seeing an abacus in their mind with no soorbam in hand… can move faster yet!" Every year for his birthday, he had gotten an abacus and nothing else. "Let's see… what else…" He looked at his ledger.
"Yesterday we did inductive reasoning", Kyouko said, eyes watering. Her nose was pinched too." And we applied our finding to mathematics in daily life."
"Right!" The teacher said. "Thank you, Miss Tokiwa" He nodded his head. His method of teaching, commonplace in Japan, did not emphasize finding correct answers, but rather prompted students to show what they were thinking. Teachers choose problems or challenges that are appropriate to the lesson they want learned, after anticipating how the students might solve them. The teacher does not explain an answer at first; he lets the students think through thinks themselves. That helps the students see the connections between what they are learning and real life. The lesson planning is not created day-by-day, but rather is planned for an entire year. And, the lesson plans are not put together solo.
The 'open lesson' method forces teachers to plan lessons together… to teach the lesson with other teachers watching… and to discuss the success or failure of that method after class, refining it for the next year's class. Observers had shown up at the door late from the meeting, and quickly decided that there were better things to do than watch this class. One called the janitor. The odor was bad enough. It was worse, wondering what the caustic custodian might do.
"And… let me see… today some of you have to present the mathematics behind your hobbies." The teacher looked at his student roster, ignoring the names with checkmarks next to them; they had been called on before for one task or another. "Miss Tokiwa, it seems that you are first up. What did you choose?"
"Dominoes," Kyouko said, standing up and bowing to Mr. Mochizuki "I chose dominoes." That choice was very ironic. The class had fallen victim to the end domino in a chain of falling dominoes. They had suffered the domino effect, a chain reaction where a cumulative effect is produced when one event sets off a chain of similar events. Sousuke had been through a large number of events since the instant of the mind-body switch.
The 'term domino effect' is best known as a mechanical effect, and is used as an analogy to a falling row of dominoes. The term can be used literally or metaphorically, as in the case of global finance or politics. The term domino effect is used to imply that an event is inevitable or highly likely. The converse term 'the one domino left standing' implies that an event is impossible or highly unlikely.
A major example of domino theory was prominent from the 1950s to the 1980s. Some world leaders posited that if one country in a region came under the influence of communism, then the surrounding countries would follow in a domino effect, That domino theory was used by successive United States administrations during the Cold War to justify the need for American intervention around the world. A more modern version suggested the potential spread of both Islamic theocracy and liberal democracy in the Middle East. During the Iran–Iraq War the United States and other western nations supported Ba'athist Iraq, fearing the spread of Iran's radical theocracy throughout the region. In the 2003 invasion of Iraq, some politicians argued that when a democratic government is implemented, it would then help spread democracy across the Middle East. The latter was an example of a "reverse domino theory,' because the results would be positive, not negative. Mithril had a number of domino concerns with Amalgam, and had their hands full cleaning up the messes of other nation's domino games.
After explaining why she had chosen dominoes, Kyouko said "The most common domino sets commercially available are double six… with 28 tiles…and double nine…with 55 tiles. Larger sets exist and are popular for games involving several players or for players looking for long domino games. The number of tiles in a set has the formula ( n + 1)(n + 2) over 2 for a double set." She mentioned equations for other sets as well. "The number of tiles in a set of [n-n] dominoes is given by the formula ((n2 + 3n + 2)/ 2). For example, the number tiles in a [18-18] set is (18*18 + 3*18 + 2)/2 = 190."
"Very good," the teacher said. "Do you know the 'single train problem'?"
"Yes," Kyouko said, smiling. "Given a set of [n-n] dominoes, is it possible to arrange all of the tiles into a single train? A train is a line of tiles each of whose ends match the end of the tiles to their immediate left and right, with the exception of the two end tiles which match on one end only, of course. Can you arrange a set into a single circular train? A circular train is ring of tiles laid end to end where both ends of each tile matches its left and right hand neighbors. Obviously, if a circular train exists, it can be broken apart at any point to give a single train. By simple trial and error, the answer for the zero set is 'yes' for a single train because it is a trivial train itself. The answer is 'no' for a circular train because the one member of the set cannot bend around to touch itself. The [1-1] set is made up of the tiles [0-0], [0-1] and [1-1] which is a train when played in that order, but it is not a circular train. As the value of (n) increases, answering this question by trial and error is going to get to be much harder." She went on for a few moments longer, before being asked to take another track.
"Can you explain 'Clark's Law' to the class," the teacher inquired.
"I can," Kyouko said before complying. "In a blocked game of single spinner dominoes, the sum of the four arms of the tableau must always total to an even number. The first corollary of Clark's Law is that the sum of the four hands in a blocked game is always an even number. This is because the double six set has 168 pips in it, which is an even number and an even number minus an even number is an even number. This is because Clark's law derives from the facts that doubles are always even, so the spinner will have four identical halves against it. Then in each arm-" After a number of mathematical gymnastics, she finished her piece.
"Besides playing games, another use of dominoes is the domino show," Mr. Mochizuki said. "You probably know what I mean. When dominoes are set up in lines, standing them on end, lines with the first toppled tile toppling the second, and so forth and so on. Miss Tokiwa your continuation for next week will be the discussion of how that phenomenon can be used to create a domino computer," he looked back at his ledger.
"Please not be me…" Sousuke whispered. "I mean… please don't be Kaname….."
"Next… yes, it will be interesting to see what you chose…." The teacher looked over at Sousuke "Miss Chidori."
"Uhhhh-hhh-hh-h…." Sousuke's thoughts scattered like a flock of birds sent to the wing by a series of shotgun blasts. "I-" Wait. He had read something. He had not understood it entirely while perusing Kaname's magazine, JSM, Japan Sports Magazine. But, because it dovetailed with something he had coincidentally researched before, it came to mind in a way he could regurgitate successfully. "As many of you know I like to play softball and watch baseball." He wasn't discomforted by the odor in the room. He had faced much worse in his childhood. The miasma od death on a large battlefield, days after a large engagement, now that can be stifling.
"Yeh," Makota said to Keisuke. "But, I don't know how she bend over and catch the ball with those boobs." Thy both laughed. "But… hey… at least she's not board-chested like the rest of them." The two of them were not making female friends right then and right there.
"Speaking of boards," the teacher said. His hearing was acute. "Both of you head up to the chalk board. You will be writing down any and every formulaic part of Miss Chidori's assignment." The grumpy grumbling guys shambled up to the front of the class. Some of the girls made quick clapping motions. One pulled down an eyelid and stuck out her tongue. "Miss Chidori-"
"Wins Above Replacement, a shortening of Wins Above Replacement Player," Sousuke began, picturing the magazine article in his head. "It most often abbreviated, often as W.A.R."
"Good thing Sousuke isn't here," Kyouko said "Everyone laughed. Everyone knew why everyone else was laughing.
"Uhhh-hh-h." Sousuke often heard comments like that, even when he was in the room. It somehow sounded somewhat different, sitting there ostensibly as Kaname Chidori. "W.A.R. is a non-standardized sabermetric baseball statistic developed to sum up "a player's total contributions to his team. A player's W.A.R. value is claimed to be the number of additional wins his team has achieved above the number of expected team wins-" Sousuke paused. "Yes. Shinji?" His friend had his hand up.
"What is sabermetric? Does it have something to do with swords?" Shinji asked. One could always hope.
"Saber. From the Society for American Baseball Research. Sabermetrics is the empirical analysis of baseball, especially baseball statistics that measure in-game activity," Sousuke said. "Sabermetrics methods are generally used for three purposes: To compare key performances among certain specific players under realistic data conditions; to provide prediction of future performance of a given player or a team; and to provide a useful function of the player's contributions to his team. The higher math-"
"I'm sorry I asked," Shinji said. Many people murmurred agreement.
"I see-" Sousuke sat there just blinking for a moment. Then, his brain did a course correction and he was back on track. Picture the article. Find the right place. There. "A player's W.A.R. value is claimed to be the number of additional wins his team has achieved above the number of expected team wins if that player were substituted with a replacement-level player: a player who may be added to the team for minimal cost and effort." He gave more explanation, and examples from American Major League players. "You. At the board. Wake up. I will be speaking a formula soon."
"I am looking forward to that," Mr Mochizuki said. He was a mathematician, after all. But he was also a baseball fan. Tokyo Yakult Swallows. Like other Japanese teams, they were named after their corporate owners, in this case the Yakult company.
"No clearly established formula exists for W.A.R.," Sousuke said. "Sources that provide the statistic calculate it differently. I will reference , a website providing baseball statistics for every player in Major League Baseball history. Their method uses six components to calculate W.A.R. for position players. The components are batting runs; base-running runs; runs added or lost due to grounding into double plays in double play situations; fielding runs; positional adjustment runs; and replacement level runs based on playing time. The first five factors are compared to league average, so a value of '0' represents an average player. The formula is:
"bWAR = (P runs – Aruns) + (Aruns -Rruns)," He gave more explanation. " That gives us wRAA equals wOBA - .320 over 1.25* (AB + BB + HPF + SF + SH), where OBA equals (alpha1* uBB + alpha2* HBP + Alpha3* 1B + alpha4* 2B + alppha5* 3B + alpha6* HR + alpha7* SB – alpha8* CS) over (AA + AB – IBB + HBP + SF)." Baseball fans should be able to figure out the abbreviations. Sousuke explained the abbreviations for his class.
"Is that all?" Makoto asked sarcastically.
"My arm's about to fall off," Keisuke complained.
"No," Sousuke replied. He had been finished. What he had mentioned should be good enough to earn Kaname high marks. But, he decided to pile on, as if he were playing rugby. "This is a formula used by Fangraphs:
"fWAR = wRAA + UZR + Position + 20 over 600* PA." Sousuke gave more explanations. "And… since you are so eager, I will add:
"One baseball analyst claims that fW.A.R. does an 'impressive job of projecting wins and losses'. He found that a team's projected record based on fW.A.R. and that team's actual record has a strong correlation… I should specify a correlation coefficient of 0.83… and that every team was within two standard deviations… where sigma equals 6.4 wins."
"Please… somebody shoot me," Makoto fell to his knees in mock despair. "Put me out of my misery."
"That can be arranged," Sousuke mouthed inaudibly, before saying aloud "There is still one man at the board" He eyed Keisuke. "A different analyst conducted a regression analysis comparing the cumulative rW.A.R. of five randomly selected teams per season against those teams' realized win totals for those seasons. He found that the two were highly correlated, with a correlation coefficient of 0.91, and that eighty three percent of the variance in wins was explained by fWAR where R-squared equals 0.83. Ah… yes… and the standard deviation was 2.91 wins. The regression equation is as follows:
"Wins = 52.7 + 0.97* fWAR," Sousuke said, before adding two similar equations. When he finished finally, he gave Mr. Mochizuki a short bow.
"Most excellent, Miss Chidori," the teacher said, beaming. He was even happier with that morass of numbers than he had been with Kyouko's mind-numbing examples. He checked his list again. "Mister Sagara. Hmmm-mm-m… since he is not here… I will need to mark this against his cumulative grade."
"Sousuke has a medical excuse," Kyouko offered kindly.
"I am sorry to say that as a mathematician, I keep score," Mr. Mochizuki was pleased with that last term, after all of the baseball equations. "So.. next I will call on…."
"Wait!" Sousuke wasn't certain why he called out. He had missed many classes, and his grades were always good in the end, thanks to good ole Mithril Money and Military Magic. But, he was sitting right here, right now, even though his body was somewhere else. "Sousuke told me his work, because he found it was derived from W.A.R. in a sense."
"Really?" Mr. said, entranced. He was never one to pass up something interesting in mathematics. "Okay. Pretend to be Mister Sagara. Give the report the way that he would." He frowned when a couple of wiseacres hid under their desk, the way they would when Sousuke gave one of his reports that included show and tell.
"Affirmative!" That had slipped out automatically, but had the entire class applauding what they saw as Kaname's imitation. "Uhhhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h-" That brought chuckles, too. "It is not a problem. Sousuke said that his statistic is WAR. W… A… R… without the periods. It is not an abbreviation."
"Of course it's WAR," Gisaburu said. "What else could it be?"
"SHOOT," Hideki added. "Or maybe FIGHT."
"BOOM," Mari offered. "Most definitely BOOM."
"That's right," Koji chipped in. He tried to imitate Sousuke's voice and diction. "WAR + FIGHT + SHOOT = BOOM!" That had everyone laughing.
"Hah hah!" Hidetoshi said smiling. "It's like everything he says. 'I had to SHOOT my lunch and FIGHT to swallow it down, then I had to go to the WAR room and take a massive BOOM. I was ready to KILL when I found there was no REAR ECHELON paper." If his trap hadn't already been triggered. It would be now. Sousuke was pushing on that chair's button to no effect.
"That will be enough," Mr. Mochizuki said. He hid a smile. It was kind of funny. And it some of it had been done in equation form. "Miss Chidori-"
"Sousuke said that he had used his WAR to estimate a given military tactician's contributions beyond or below an average tactician," Sousuke started. "I will give his explanation for the model, which can evaluate a general's quality based on how much they exceeded or fell short of a replacement general in the same circumstances." He went on to describe how Sousuke Sagara had painstakingly developed the database first. "I… he constructed a linear model from all of the battle data he could access or surmise. For each battle, he separated the combatants' forces into infantry, cavalry, artillery, air force, and navy. He could then weight a general's numerical advantage or disadvantage compared to their adversary, and better isolate the general's ability as a tactician."
"Kick assss-sss-ss-s." Shinji was pounding his desk with his fists.
"Mr. Kazama," the teacher said. "Do I need to send you to the nurse's office? I believe that she has studied psychology."
"No sir," Shinji answered. "I am sorry Kaname."
"It is not a problem," Kaname said. That had people giving a thumbs up for a repeat Sousuke impersonation. "Sousuke said that raw soldier quantities have a relatively small effect compared to other factors such as terrain or technology. But in this initial project, the results potentially inflate the importance of a commander's tactical acuity compared with other factors. Sousuke made an effort to rank each general and analyze the results. He did that by isolating each general's battles, and assigning a WAR score to their performance in each of those conflicts."
Sousuke walked away from his desk and dismissed his fellow two students. He grabbed pieces of different colored chalk and began writing equations and drawing graphs. "I will provide this example, "he said. "French Emperor Napoleon gained .49 WAR for his victory at the Battle of Borodino. Since French troops slightly outnumbered the forces of Russian Empire, the model gives a replacement general in Napoleon's position a fifty two percent chance of victory. The WAR system assigns Napoleon one win for his victory, but subtracts the chance a replacement general would have won anything. As such, he assigned Napoleon gains .49 wins above replacement." He went on a few minutes longer.
"That is beyond fascinating," Mr. said. He had to cut things short, wanting to go over other things in class that day. But, he was also a big History buff, and had a particular fascination with ancient battles. "There are so many generals to hear about. So many battles. So many calculations." He dabbed at his forehead with a piece of paper towel that he found in his desk. "I particularly want to hear about Hannibal. Alexander the Great. And Julius Caesar." He snapped his finger. "And Ghengis Khan. Subatai. So many others!"
"Me too!" Shinji didn't fear a visit to the school shrink. The teacher was far beyond him at that given instant.
"I'm sure everyone does!' Mr. was selectively deaf to the cries to the contrary. "And this is how we will accomplish it! Miss Chidori, you and Mister Sagara will be our representatives at the Math Day presentations in the Tokyo Dome. We are one of three schools selected to strut our stuff this year. There should be thousands of students, parents, teachers, school officials, and government big wigs. Not to mention more camera crews than one can count. I want you to open with a brief explanation of W.A.R., with Mister Sagara following with his brainchild. It need not be anything onerous. I would say about an hour's worth. You have one month to prepare."
"I… that… uhhhhhhh-hhhhhh-hhhhh-hhhh-hhh-hh-h-" Sousiuke felt like he had been hit with one rubber bullet between the eyes and another between the balls. The setting alone seemed rather daunting. His presenting anything otaku would set Kaname into a terrible temper tantrum. Dragging her into it would only magnify matters. And… oh shit… no!… the TDD-1 crew would need to know about it. What if Commander Mardukas wanted to be in the audience?!
The teacher, as he was wont to do, tried to make his students enthusiastic about a career in Math. This time, he chose to speak about something that might hit them in their wallets and pocketbooks.
"In 2000, the Clay Mathematics Institute of Cambridge, Massachusetts, laid out seven of the most challenging problems mathematicians were grappling with at the time." Mr. Mochizuki said. "They then offered a one-million dollar reward to anyone who could solve one. These problems represent the deepest mysteries in the field of mathematics. Some of them point to extremely useful practical applications, like engineering better spaceships, more effective drug treatments, and tougher cybersecurity encryption standards. Others seem to have no practical applications whatsoever, and but offer us a chance to get a more detailed look at how the universe works." After the short commotion died down, he mentioned the seven problems:
Yang–Mills and Mass Gap. Riemann Hypothesis. P vs NP Problem. Navier–Stokes Equation. Hodge Conjecture. Poincaré Conjecture. Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer Conjecture.
After that, he mentioned simpler math challenges that would provide employment for mathematicians for years to come. Those included 'Biological Quantum Field Theory and statistics used to model virus evolution,' 'High Dimensional Mathematics use to accurately model and predict behavior in large-scale distributed networks that evolve over time occurring in communications, biology, and the social sciences, and 'Mathematics of Quantum Computing offering explanations of how quantum phenomena shape our world, and the need to further develop the mathematics that will allow us to control the quantum world.' The word quantum kept tempting Sousuke to look at the ring. It was too soon to do so. And, to what effect? The last example had him sitting up straighter in his chair: "We need to develop another advanced mathematics," Mochizuki said. "We need to use it to develop a functional model of the brain that is mathematically consistent and predictive rather than merely biologically inspired."
"Sir!' Sousuke had stood up. His heart was pounding. "Are there mathematicians working on that now? Have they made sufficient progress? Do they have theories that explains what the human mind is, apart from the brain?" If he could find out anything useful, he would phone it in to Kaname and crew immediately.
"Sadly, no." The teacher shook his head. Then, he perked up. "Perhaps you will be intimately associated with the Mathematics of the Mind someday. Who knows what amazing science you can be associated with?" He wondered why the black-haired girl had gone pale. He looked over at the classroom clock. "Well… that will be it for today…."
Everyone in the room left to go about their business. The sports team members and the other victims were thirsting for blood, so to speak. Because Sousuke was not there, they had to find some other outlet for their anger and thirst for revenge. Someone would pay. Sooner or later.
The last straggler, Sousuke left the room just before Mr. Oonuki walked in. He heard an anguished shout as he made his way down the hallway.
"WHAT THE FUCKING MOTHER OF ALL FUCKING KOI HAPPENED HERE?!"
People outside the room hurried away when they heard desks and chairs being kicked across the room, as the irate custodian cleared the floor in a speedy and superhuman cleaning effort. They did not hear the man say 'I think Betty Lou needs to go on her first date."
Betty Lou was the name he had given his newest chain saw.
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This portion of the chapter owes a great debt to 'Napolean was the best general ever, and the math proves it' by Ethan Arsht. And, to Wikipedia. And multiple Google entries on the meaning of anime hair color.
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PREP TIME
Sousuke cursed.
He had intended to spend his time in that last class to solve his greatest problem, even though there would be no one-million dollar prize awaiting him. Japanese History. Pop Quiz. Those words began echoing in the vault of his skull again.
How could he escape that conundrum? He had come up with the perfect way out, but his superiors at Mithril had voted him down. Why? Was it because he would be cheating? His entire mission at the school was one big cheat!
"That's it!" Another perfect solution. "I can become ill." He could do the acting required, or even go as far as to imbibe something that would literally make him ill. "Than I can leave school, having made my appearance as required as Kaname Chidori. That will satisfy the attendance stipulation… and it will allow Kaname a chance to take the make-up exam when she… hopefully… is back in this body." He grimaced. His breasts bounced again. That was so unnerving! How did girls put up with that!
Sousuke sighed. He was the one to veto that plan. "I gave the Guidance Counselor my word," he moaned. "I cannot make Kaname a liar." A bad grade could be explained away. Traumatic brain injury would suffice. And, should the grade remain, Kaname's grades were more than robust enough to take one misfire. He would head over top the counselor's office.
On his way, Sousuke passed by the long-haired photography guy again. He did a double take. The man's posture left him feeling uncomfortable. No, he was not Kaname, and he did not find the man attractive. It was the way that he stood. Certain motions he made with his hands and arms. What was it about those actions that gave him a sense of déjà vu. He listened to the man speak for a few moments. There didn't seem to be anything untoward in his questions and comments. Students with an appointment for the student photos chatted with the man before heading into a room reserved for the photo shoot.
"Ahhh!" Sousuke realized something as he walked. "Something about that man reminds me of Kurz!" His first thought was to suppose the man might be an enemy A.S. pilot. He quickly waved that absurdity away. "A model. I wager that the man was once a male model." That mostly quenched his heightened paranoia. Mostly.
Trying to get mathematics out of his head, Sousuke stopped abruptly in the hallway, apologizing when he caused a multi-person collision as other students walked into him and each other. "That-" A particular stray thought had him excited. "Mathematics and physics have an intimate relationship. Physics are what the scientists at the laboratory are exploring. And… while he was tt the laboratory, someone said-" That was it! He had his escape. All it would require was a visit to his school locker before the test! He felt much better now. But, the reptile brain did not.
"H-e-l-p-!"
Sousuke spun around, surveying the hallway. Was there an attacking enemy? No. But, one girl was pointing at a boy. He had collapsed to the ground, having passed by the mathematics room, breathing in too deeply. She didn't know that. She feared that he was having a heart attack or severe respiratory distress.
"Help him! I think he needs CPR!"
The girl did not know CardioPulmonary Resuscitation. No one surrounding her in did, either. Sousuke did. That and more advanced methodology requiring equipment and medicines. He had trained himself as a field medic. But, he found himself in a bit of a quandry. Performing CPR would mean putting Kaname's mouth on the boy's mouth. It would also seem like he was kissing a boy. The former was far more devastating. He pictured Commander Mardukas's face and remembered his stark warnings. He also, for some reason, thought of Tessa, and her desire to perform CPR on him at poolside.
"I have a solution," Sousuke said, brain not functioning properly after his thoughts about that superior officer. "This may work." He rushed to a nearby closet that held a deep sink and cleaning supplies. He would not bother the janitor. That fuming and fulminating man was busy enough as it was. "Here it is." He hurried back to the stricken boy.
"Please stand back," Sousuke said. "I am a specialist." When everyone complied, he placed the bell of the plunger he had borrowed over the mouth of the boy, and then moved the tool up and down in firm motions, as if he were unclogging a toilet.
*doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink* *doink*
"What are you doing!" The girl called out aghast.
"Mrphl Grpyll Lrphlll-" The boy had come too almost immediately.
"My job here is done," Sousuke said, pleased. In a moment of over-zealous pride. He flipped the plunger back into the closet, as if he were doing a bat flip after hitting a grand slam out of the park. "But I cannot stay for further care…."
Internal clock ticking, Sousuke rushed and made it to the door he was looking for. A plaque on the door read 'Jacob Ciocio, Guidance Councilor.' He knocked. A moment later he heard 'It's unlocked. Come in." He did so.
Stepping inside the small room, he noticed many things in short succession. Wood walls. Tiled floor. Large mahogany desk. Ornately carved chairs for guests. A large glass dome on the desk. Numerous shadow box frames on the wall, each ebony framed and covered with glass.
"That-"Sousuke said, pointing at the glass dome. It covered a small banzai tgree. Pinned to the trunk and bough were two exquisite looking butterflies. "That one is Prepona praeneste sub-species Buckleyana. The stout black body and wings with large electric blue and orange areas are characteristic. The other is. Papilio chikae, the Luzon Peacock. With black wings sporting a peacock colored lower wing edge, the latter insect is prized by collectors, but more for the absolute rarity than for its comparative beauty."
"You know butterflies?" Mr Ciocio brightened immediately. At first, he had resembled Gollum with a bad toupee and slightly better dentition, crouched sullenly. Now, he transformed into an energetic and wizened small man who might frighten every baby who sees him. "How remarkable in this day and age. Then you will love to see these." He swept his hand along the back wall. The framed enclosures each held one or two butterflies pinned to a white cork board.
"I-: Sousuke couldn't get a word in. Everything he knew about butterflies and moths came from reading the 'Nature' magazine he had borrowed from Kaname. Looking around the room, he saw an explorer's vest half covering a large glass bottle, the last five letters on the partially obscured label reading -OFORM. A tall red case stood in one corner, unzipped but its contents unseen. A pith helmet hung on one of two wall hooks situated behind the desk.
He knew the counselor was a collector. An adventurer, someone who likes to hunt his own insect prey, not purchase it on Ebay or in dark shadowy parlors and the dens of Black Market barbarians. Just the same, the gear he saw reminded him of Allied army's uniforms during the First World War, and he could imagine a long rifle sitting inside the case. He couldn't help but imagine the man as a hunter of men, even more than a hunter of animals. Silly, yes. But he couldn't shake it.
"I just love talking about butterflies," the counselor said. "Even as much as I love collecting them and looking at them." He ran his hand over the glass dome. "It's much easier than hunting stupid boorish mammals or the comical scaled reptiles and fishes. Birds I can almost get into; but the rest, no."
"I see," Sousuke said. What did any of this have to do with his reason to be here?
"After netting a butterfly in an aerial net, the best way to kill it is by pinching its thorax…the middle body segment… between your thumb and forefinger. This technique takes some practice to learn the proper pressure, but it will quickly stun the specimen and prevent it from damaging itself." Mr…. demonstrated the motions. "Try doing that with a wild boar or a lion! Hmmppff." He continued. "With its wings over its back, the butterfly specimen can then be slipped into an envelope or a paper triangle or envelope. Specimens can be kept in this condition indefinitely in a tight-fitting box with moth balls or other insecticide, until they are 'relaxed' for mounting. Alternatively, freshly collected specimens can be stored in a plastic bag in a freezer until they are mounted, eliminating the need to 'relax' the specimen before mounting."
"I have read that," Sousuke said. "Sir, the reason-" No better luck that time.
"After insects are dead, they become extremely brittle," the counselor rambled on. "However, dried specimens can always be relaxed and mounted in any desirable position. Relaxing chambers can be made from jars or plastic boxes. Place a piece of folded paper towel on the bottom and moisten it with water. To prevent mold from growing on specimens, add an antiseptic. In the closed container, high humidity will 'relax' the specimen over time… usually two days for small specimens and a week for larger ones."
"Having heard that, can we-" Sousuke fought the urge to fidget. Things were getting to him. He wasn't usually a fidgeter. Did some host body habits persist, separate from the mind?
"After relaxing the specimen, remove it from its envelope carefully," Mr. Ciocio said. "Holding the specimen by the thorax, force an insect pin through the middle of the thorax. The wings may be forced backwards in order to insert the pin far enough through the body. After pinning, it is helpful to force the wings down with forceps. This step makes the specimen easier to manipulate once it is positioned on the mounting board."
"Yes… of course… but-" Sousuke was tempted to fire a pistol into the ceiling. Alas, he was still unarmed. He listened for minutes about preparation of specimens and the creation of shadow boxes.
"I bet as a softball player you have strong arms," Mr. Ciocio remarked. "No doubt you would be very handy with a butterfly net. Always remember this: when trying to capture a butterfly with a net, move slowly until you are in range. Position the net under the insect, then swing your net upward and turn the handle so that the net flips over and the captured insect cannot escape. If you bring the net over the insect and down to the ground, raise the end of it so that the insect can fly to the closed top, then stick a container under the net and carefully move your butterfly down into it. Easy. Foolproof. Bitchin'."
"That is good to know, Sir… but… you called me here today for-" Sousuke struck out again. His W.A.R. was suffering. If he were fighting a campaign, his WAR would be declining quickly too.
"I'm sure you'll nearly wet yourself in envy, seeing these." The counselor had left his desk and was standing under his prized collection. "This is an-"
"Eastern Tiger Swallowtail," Sousuke answered unbidden.
"Right!" Mr. Ciocio exclaimed very good again. You truly are a young lady of remarkable talents." That had Sousuke biting Kaname's lip. He should have kept silent the whole time. But, too late now. If he won the man's favor, maybe he would stop and return to school business. "How about this one?" The man pointed to another specimen.
"Agrias amydon, sub-species Boliviensis," Sousuke answred correctly again. One magazine article was dedicated to the top rare and endangered species.
"Good!" Mr. Ciocio said. "And this?"
"Morpho godartii," Sousuke correctly identified.
"And this… this… and this…" The counselor pointed at three case in a row.
"Ornithoptera chimaera. Teinopalpus aureus. Bhutanitis lidderdalii." Sousuke was correct with each one.
"I can't believe a girl your age is so adept at speciation. You must be one heck of a collector in the making. In the larval phase, so to speak." He laughed, a bit miffed that the girl did not join in. "Perhaps on my next expedition you would like to tag along?"
"Negative," Sousuke replied. It was not his duty to answer for Kaname. And personally, in a life so filled with death, he found himself siding with the insects. "Lepidoptery has changed with technology replacing the killing jar. The naturalists among us can sublimate any remaining desire for trophies with technology. Wildlife photography has become relatively easy. You can take better pictures of butterflies with a mobile phone than photographers once did with their Canons and Nikons. And butterflies can be replicated exactly on computer screens, magnified, and rotated to be viewed on every available axis. Collecting is wasteful. It's unnatural. And, butterflies need all of the help they can get."
"You-" Mr. Ciocio clenched his fists even tighter than he clenched his teeth. This time he couldn't get a word in.
"Pesticides. Habitat destruction. Increased numbers of animal predators." Sousuke struck a heroic pose, unaware he did so. All he needed was a classical music soundtrack to be a documentary, or a hip hop beat to be an edgy anime. "And what might be one of the most deadly threat today?" He waited for an answer. He was certain that a specialist would know.
"You… you-" The counselor looked as if he might swallow his tongue. He had missed his last three anger-management classes. That fact was clearly showing.
"Avocados!" Sousuke said. He had one foot up on a chair now. "That's right You heard correctly. Avocados. Avocados from Mexico." He sang that last part just like he had heard the jingle for a TV commercial. It sounded good in Kaname's voice. "Avocados have become an increasingly popular food in the America in recent years, as they've been both linked with health benefits and also aggressively marketed. But most of the avocados consumed in the US are grown in Mexico, and as demand rises, so does the incentive to deforest swathes of land and plant avocado trees instead of the pines that grow there. They're doing worse than killing a single insect senselessly here and there."
"You… you… you-: The counsellor had also been skipping anti-hypertensive medications, trying to save as much money as he could for his hobby. Also not the best idea.
"They are killing oyamel fir trees, the winter home for Monarch butterflies, which migrate from Canada, across the US, and come to rest in the Mexican province of Michoacan. The butterflies have been identified as so important, that the leaders of those three countries discussed them at a summit, deciding to plant special plants for the Monarch caterpillars to eat en route. See… mankind working together… to preserve the insects alive, not preserve them in a picture frame."
"You… you… you… you…." Mr Ciocio was twitching. He had also crumbled up and thrown away the prescriptions for anti-seizure meds a few days earlier.
"But it is not just butterflies that have been tactically terminated," Sousuke remarked. "There are strategic battles being fought across the world, even some aimed at mankind's closest relatives. Rampant destruction of rain forests for palm oil planting has resulted in massive deaths of orangutan in Borneo. At least nobody kills them and pins them to a board."
"You-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-"
The Guidance Counselor fumbled at the latch of his desk drawer. He pulled it open with a quick whoosh and a hard slam. Reaching inside, he caught Sousuke's attention. He moved in quick steps, looking inside the drawer, concerned that the man might be reaching for a firearm or a letter opener. He wasn't. The man had grabbed an inhaler and quickly made use of it. Eyes looking in the drawer, Sousuke caught sight of numerous cocoons.
The young soldier thought of 'Silence of the Lambs,' especially Buffalo Bill. He felt very exposed for a moment, as if he stood under a spotlight in a dark room, the whole world looking at him. Buffalo Bill was a serial killer who dressed in the skin of women, so he could transform himself into a woman in his mind's eye. Sousuke was dressed as a woman, in a way. Buffalo bill had a habit of putting cocoons of Acherontia sty, the Death Head Moth, down the throats of his victims before hiding them in bodies of water. Sousuke felt very much on edge. This was the type of situation when he jumped blindly to conclusions. Her stood by the bottle and exposed the label fully: 'CHLOROFORM'.
Sousuke was as guilty as most, taken in by myths propagated on television and the silver screen. In Mr. Ciocio's hands, the chloroform was used in killing jars to kill insects. He also used it in his home-made pesticides to eradicate invasive species, so that his favorite butterflies could thrive. He was not just a collector, he was a conservationist, and a philanthropist, working tirelessly to save butterflies and moths worldwide. Collecting was a way to preserve species for the future, should any species go extinct. In movies, chloroform was used by villains, placed on rags and held across the mouth and nose of the hero or the next victim. Seconds later, and the poor unfortunate soul lay knocked out.
It does not work that way. Chloroform has indeed been used by a number of serial killers… as a poison. By itself, or mixed with other toxic substances, it has been put in food or added to beverages.
The substance, also known as trichloromethane, is a powerful anesthetic, used in surgeries starting in the nineteenth century. It works by inhalation. But… and it is a very big but…if you sneaked up on someone and pressed a damp, sweet-smelling cloth to their faces, you would get kicked in the guts. And probably not just once. Scientists estimate that it would probably take around five minutes for an adult person to become unconscious from breathing though a cloth with chloroform on it.
"There was a book," Sousuke said, tensing up. "It was titled 'The Collector'." He had read excerpts in that Nature magazine. "By John Fowles, published in 1963. It is about a psychotic young man who collects butterflies but becomes more interested in a girl he fancies called Miranda Grey. He catches her with the chloroform he uses to snuff out the lives of his butterflies and imprisons her in his cellar. Then he-"
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOO-OOOOOO-OOOOO-OOOO-OOO-OO-O-!"
The counselor put on his helmet. He slipped on his vest. He took a long pole out of the case and unfurled a tightly wrapped top. It was a huge butterfly net. "How did you find me out?!" Right answer, wrong solution. Mr. Ciocio was indeed a serial killer on the run, but he was a strangler, not a poisoner. A strangler who also had a love of knives. He had been hiding in plain sight at Jindai Municipal High School for more than twenty years. "It does not matter. You won't be telling anyone. You're a girl. This should be simple."
"You're not going to be wearing Kaname's skin!" Sousuke turned on his heals, ducked a net swipe, rolled, and opened the door. Just as the net hit the spot where he had been briefly standing, he bolted out into the hallway. "I have been called a pinhead before. That does not mean I wish to be pinned!" Sliding sideways for a stretch, he kept his balance and started down the hallway. "Alert! Murderer! Run! Form a mob! Fight back!"
Everyone just stood there nonchalant and unconcerned. Even though it seemed as if Kaname Chidori was shouting, everyone had become numb and anesthetized by all of Sousuke Sagara's prior emergencies and catastrophes.
"I'll catch you my pretty," the counselor cackled, running bowlegged after Sousuke. "And your little dog too!" The 'Wizard of Oz' reference was lost on everyone there.
"Look, our heroine is in danger!" That tall slightly bearded boy was a member of the new Kaname Chidori Fanclub, their allegiance born during the fire and fury of his morning speech. "Stop that cad. You there… stop chasing our Kanamke…." Ten boys encircled Mr. Ciocio "Surrender, and we will take you in peacefully."
"Surrender my ass!"
The counselor rolled up the net, hooking part of it on a small nail at the top of the staff. What the boys didn't know… and were soon to find out the hard way… was that the man was a champion-level stick fighter. Stick-fighting encompasses a variety of martial arts that all use simple long slender, blunt, hand-held, generally wooden 'sticks' for fighting; such as a staff, cane, walking stick, baton or something similar. Some techniques can also be used with a sturdy umbrella or even a sword in its scabbard. "Bad boys must be taught a lesson. Good girls will wait their turn." He was more than fluent in Portugal's jogo do pau, the juego del palo of the Canary Islands, France's canne de combat or la canne, Poland'spalcaty, and Italy's scherma di bastone. He was no slouch with Venezuela's juego del garrote, Brazil's maculelê, Trinidad's calindaand the South Americans' Eskrima Kombat. When he was younger, he also dabbled in kalaripayattu, a martial art of India.
Some of the boys were boxers. A couple were wrestlers. One was even proficient in Wing Chun, a traditional Southern Chinese wushu style also known as 'beautiful springtime'. None of that mattered one iota. A member of the kendo club thought he stood the best chance of all. He held a sasumata, a pole weapon once used by the samurai class and their retainers in feudal Japan. a modern version of the weapon is still occasionally used by the police and as a self-defense tool. These modern sasumata are often made of aluminum, with a blunt pronged-end instead of the sharpened blades and spikes found on their medieval counterparts. They have been marketed to schools due to a growing fear of classroom invasions, which has prompted many schools in Japan to keep sasumata available for teachers to protect themselves or students and to detain a potential threat until the authorities can arrive… that is, assuming that the intruder did not have firearms.
"I do not have my shinai," the would-be hero said, thinking a man with a butterfly net wouldn't be much of a challenge. If he impressed a girl or two, maybe he could find a date to the prom. "But this borrowed tool should suffice." He tested its weight and nodded his head. "To mold the mind and body… to cultivate a vigorous spirit… and through correct and rigid training…."
"To strive for improvement in the art of Kendo.," Mr. Ciocio said with a shrug. "Yeh. I know. Been there, done that." He felt an urge to play with the presumptuous upstart, to show him shikake-waza and oji-waza that would leave him green with envy, or quivering in abject fear. But, he had to move quickly and be on his way.
During a stick fight, you only have four possible defensive options. Evasion. Deflection. Blocking. And striking. The expert fighter needed only concern himself with striking. He knew the cardinal rule. Keep your stick moving. That tenet is important for the following reasons: It prevents inertia from setting in during combat; it enhances the overall velocity of your strikes; it minimizes weapon telegraphing, especially prior to striking with your stick; it enhances your defensive reaction time; it minimizes your hand and digit exposure when fighting; it significantly enhances the offensive flow; It makes your assailant misjudge the range of your stick.
The boys misjudged everything. They could do nothing to impact the flow of battle. They could not even see the councilors blurred hands. They barely had time to feel pain before they slid into blackness. Even Sousuke would not want to fight that man if he were in his own battle-hardened body. 'Thanks Mithril. I will send you a Thank You Card for the no-weapon orders.' He had been gathering items while the boys served as a brief distraction. About to make a run for his locker, where he did store chemicals that can put someone to sleep quickly, he heard a gut curdling yell as something flashed into view. It was Tsubaki Issei.
"I will halt your evil deed right here right now, you blaggart!" He assumed a karate crouch and prepared to lash out. Two seconds later, he lay twitching on the floor, as if he was a frog who had been pithed.
"Damn." 'That man can move lightning quick', Sousuke thought. The net came down over his head. Through its openings, he could see his assailant pull out a long slender knife. He intended to keep the secret a secret , and then escape to another hidden location with a new vocation. "Ahhh." There was a sound. A very distinctive sound. A chainsaw. "Over here," he shouted. "We've cornered the man who booby-trapped the Mathematic classroom. It's Mr. Ciocio, the Guidance Counselor."
"What?" the counselor looked at the advancing janitor, fired-up chainsaw in hand. "Pleeeease." What could that geezer do? "Go home, Zenji. Go home and live another day. Feed another fish."
"That room stank!" Mr. Oonuki growled. "I had to fight down my own vomit." He didn't tell everything. He had vomited multiple times, a few times in parts of the room he had already cleansed. "There's a lunch room spill that still needs to be mopped up. Milk! You know what milk does when it sets too long!"
"Boo hoo hoo," Mr. Ciocio said. "I have to leave my precious collection behind. My beloved hobby. My conservationist dreams." Before he even finished speaking, he lashed out with his net staff.
GrrrZip.
The chainsaw cut through the wood like butter.
"No matter, I am a master of fighting with two sticks." Mr. Ciocio struck twice.
GrrrZip GrrrZip.
There were now four sticks, two still spinning on the floor.
"Look… keep it safe… there's a small caterpillar there." Sousuke was pointing at the Guidance Counselor's zipper.
"My peepee?" Mr. Ciocio looked down, uncertain whether he had remembered to zip his fly. He was relieved to find that his John Thomas was not poking out for everyone to see. Instead, one of his treasured caterpillars had somehow managed top crawl on him. "Now-" He was flying ass over teacups, not certain how it could have happened. He had not seen Sousuke holding his trusty plunger behind his back, or watched him sweep it low to flip his opponent. He hit the floor hard, sticks still in hand. Preparing to strike, he felt his eyes bulge and his naughty bits scream out in pain.
Sousuke struck repeated downward, handle side down, ramming the plunger stick into the prone man's groin again and again and again, deftly missing the oblivious caterpillar, who was going nowhere very slowly.
*DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK* *DOINK*
Sousuke kicked the sticks away when the moaning man let go of them and tried to get to his feet. Mr. Ciocio had lost any advantage he once had. Things were looking bleak. They soon looked a great deal more bleak.
"Want to use this, girlie?" Mr. Oonuki gunned Betty Lou.
"No thank you, Mr. Oonuki," Sousuke said, now stomping on the butterfly man's neck with his foot. Damn. He was giving everyone panty shots again. It couldn't be helped. "It takes a lot of work to clean a chain saw. You wouldn't want to jam any bone in there." He had done that before, in a chainsaw battle against Amalgam stooges.
"That's what I like to see these days," the custodian remarked. "A polite and sensible young woman. Come by any time you like. You can help me feed my new fish." The man grabbed the incapacitated councilor by one foot and pulled. The shoe came off. "Let me try that again." He did. The sock slipped off. "Shit!" He grabbed the foot, tugging the crying man towards the school entrance. "Call the police," he called out to one timid teacher, her hair barely visible behind one doorframe. "Make it snappy, or I might do a puzzle in reverse!" That obtuse threat was not lost on the screaming Mr. Ciocio.
"Wh-Wh-" Tsubaki was sitting up. "Where am I. Did I win?" He stood. He looked over at Sousuke, and began scolding him. "Whoever you are girl, it was very stupid to fight a man with a staff. You should stick to putting on make-up and playing will dolls."
"I was running away-"Sousuke said.
"And it is pitiful to lose a fight against a mere guidance counselor and his froufrou butterfly net," Tsubaki said, looking for his glasses. "An idiot girl like you will never find a husband."
"I do not want a husband," Sousuke said, not able to explain why.
"That's good," Tsubaki said putting his glasses on. "That's terrible! You're so beautiful. You must be a goddess in everything you do!" He struck a heroic pose. "Please tell me your name. That way I can die a happy man."
"Look closer," Misuki said, turning red in the face. She hated it when Tsubaki focused his attention on girls other than her. That would be any girl, since she could not seem to win her never-ending struggle to gain his attention. "It's Kaname. Kaname Chidori. With black hair."
"No wonder I feel like I am falling in love all over again." Tsubaki practically had hearts for eyes. "So dazzling. The only girl I see!"
"I like you better with your glasses off," Sousuke said, on Kaname's behalf and his own.
"That means you like me," Tsubaki said. "I'm much better than that Sagara fellow. A bastard. A cheater. A thief. I will not let you steal him from me."
"Here, I will whisper in your ear." Sousuke felt creeped out. He did not want to whisper in a guy's ear. He whispered. "Sousuke Sagara is a part of me." Today that was very true. Oddly true, but very true just the same. "I will never let you be a part of me." So true on different levels.
"That's enough for one day, Romeo," Mizuki said. She grabbed Tsubaki by the ear and dragged him away involuntarily. "Our time for photos is nearly there." She wouldn't have been successful if Tsubaki was glasses-off.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish," Souuske said with a sigh.
Next class was English. He felt the tension ebb, feeling a pleasant sense of peace come over him. He started whistling a tune. There was a bounce to his step.
That class was a place to take things easy.
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Information was taken from 'Collecting and Preserving Butterflies, under the Bug Hunter heading at agrilifeextension. tamu. edu
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Author's comment:
It's good to see Sousuke get a quality education. It's heart warming to see him interact with his classmates, all while avoiding the addition of any kind of burden to Kaname's life.
She asked for it.