“I know who you are.”
Yukiiae’s voice cut through the darkness, over the sound of running
water.
“I know you do.”
She found Keisuke sitting on a large, flat rock in the middle of a
stream. He was examining his blades in what little moonlight filtered through
the trees. He looked up at the sound of her voice, but only shortly. His voice
smacked of indifference when he’d replied.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” The Decameron moved
closer, trembling with every step.
“Surprise, surprise.”
She stood now at the bank of the stream. Keisuke looked up at her again,
this time studying her face in the moonlight. He couldn’t see her clearly, but
he could imagine her features tense with fear. Such a weak spirit…
“What do you want?” He asked, with only impatience lining the words.
“I want to talk to you.”
Sighing, he sheathed both Dawn and Dusk. He stood, and Yukiiae backed
away, supposing he would leap to the shore. Instead, he held out his hand. She
stood and looked at him, scrutinizing him in the dark. She did not want to take
his hand. She didn’t want to join him there in the middle of the stream. But
what choice did she have? If they were to speak, it would be on his
terms, not her own. Fear and mistrust were eating up her mind, leaving her
shaking.
She took his hand.
In a fluid motion, she leapt from the bank, her body lithe and agile.
Soundlessly, she landed. He did not return her hand, but stood, watching her
tremble and quake.
“Snared rabbit,” he whispered at her.
Yukiiae said nothing.
He drew her down on the rock, not ungently, until they were both sitting.
“Now,” said Keisuke softly, “what do you want?”
Still, the Decameron said nothing. Instead, she touched the hand still
holding her own. He’d relaxed his grip, and she was able to slip her hand
away, but she did so slowly, until she was able to take his one hand in both of
hers. Gently, she turned his hand over, until it lay palm-up. With the softest
touch, she traced the scar there. Keisuke simply looked at her, puzzled slightly
by the sense of peace her touch instilled.
She looked up at him and said,
“I can’t imagine how much it must’ve hurt.”
It seemed she was speaking of more than just the wound.
“The pain wasn’t important,” he answered indifferently. “I guess
you did a good job. I really thought I’d have problems with that hand.”
“It healed well,” she said. “That day-“
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” He cut in, catching the flow of her
thoughts. “I assumed it was the pain, or the rage, or something that made me
feel that way- like the world was on fire. But it was you.”
“I felt it, too. I thought maybe I was… getting sick.”
“I thought Decamerons don’t get sick.”
“Sometimes we do.” Her voice was so full of pain that Keisuke trained
his eyes on her once more. What’s this? he wondered.
“But it’s unusual.”
“Yes, but it happens sometimes. Usually… when one of us gets…
depressed.”
“Sounds kind of like a romantic myth to me.”
“It happened to my mother.”
Ah-ha! Thought Keisuke.
This isn’t what I came here to talk about. I don’t want to discuss
my family. Yukiiae’s mind worked furiously, trying to think of a way to
change the subject. Keisuke, however, having discovered what he wanted, took the
liberty of changing it for her.
“You still haven’t told me what you wanted to talk about. Surely you
didn’t come here to dig up the corpses of our past.” He leaned closer to
her. “I think you know better.”
She tried to lean away from him, but he held her fast. It was not his
hand on hers that trapped her- it was his eyes. Those black, depthless pits
would not release her. She felt panic rise within her, gripping her senses.
Escape was her only wish, one that would be denied so long as she kept her
silence.
She swallowed. He grinned at her, white teeth shining in the darkness.
“I wanted to talk to you about what we’re doing. About the Task.”
Keisuke’s laughter was chilling.
“You think you can convince me to change? You can be the one to
get me to agree-“
“I wanted to tell you that I know how you feel.” There was a hint of
desperation in her voice.
Yukiiae’s outburst took Keisuke by surprise. At first, he could only
stare at her, his eyes narrow.
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, “I do.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You don’t want to do this.”
“You do.”
“Not always.” She finally looked away from him, flushed with shame in
the dark. “Actually, I really don’t blame you for not caring what happens to
the world. Sometimes… sometimes it’s a hateful place.”
“But you’ll go along and save it anyway.” Keisuke’s voice was
bitter.
“I keep thinking, telling myself, that just because my own life
doesn’t reflect any of the good in the world, that doesn’t mean it isn’t
there.”
“I don’t care, Yukiiae. I don’t care what kind of world it is. That
is something I expect you don’t understand.”
She didn’t answer right away. When she finally spoke, her voice was
clear and steady.
“Keisuke, I don’t expect you to think like me. I don’t expect you
to look at things the way I do. I don’t even expect you to change your mind.
But when the time comes for you to make a decision, I do expect you to
understand that you can only make that decision once. When you choose your path,
whatever it may be, that’s the only choice you’re going to get.”
It was Keisuke’s turn to fall silent. He sighed softly, and took his
hand from Yukiiae’s. Wordlessly, he rubbed the scar on his palm. The Decameron
said nothing more, waiting without sound or motion. The pair remained that way
for a time, until Keisuke broke the silence.
“Was your mother depressed when she got sick?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“It was after my father died. The Coast Guard sank the ship he was
sailing on and he drowned.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died.”
Again, Keisuke was silent, but only for a moment.
“You know, you and I have a lot in common.” He stood up, pulled her
up with him. “Now go away and leave me alone.”
Yukiiae did as she was told, sprinting off into the woods without a
backward glance.
Under the glare of artificial lights, Harata felt as though he was baking
alive. Outside, the sky was overcast,
leaden clouds heavy with rain. Within the abandoned fish-packing plant, man-made
daylight dazzled the eyes. The place was crowded, stuffy and humid, the stink of
old fish lingering on the air.
The Media had come in droves.
Two nights after he’d announced his plan to hold a press conference,
Kat had approached Harata through the darkness. She’d tugged on his sleeve and
led him away until she guessed the others wouldn’t overhear.
“I’ve decided to help you.”
Overjoyed, Harata hugged her, beaming a grin in the dark. He released her
quickly, sheepish, and said,
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
Kat looked up at him.
“But Blue is right. You’ve really got to be convincing. This is
serious.”
“I’ll do my best, I swear.”
She gnawed her lip, perfect features pulled into a look of worry.
“Do you- do you think Keisuke is right? I mean, about the HeadHunters
finding us?”
“I don’t know. But we’ve dealt with the HeadHunters before,
remember? And the way Mina was acting, it sounded like Keisuke’s men were the
best of the bunch. We’re much better prepared now. Speaking of, how’s your
hand-to-hand coming along?”
She laughed.
“Not too well, I’m afraid, but Blue’s a patient teacher.”
From the next day forward, Kat spent every free minute coaching Harata on
dealing with the Media. He listened to her intently, and stove to follow all of
her advice. He found it challenging to grasp the linguistic gymnastics he’d
need to perform. Kat worried that his candidness would make him easy prey for
those who’d seek to claim that they were just a pack of loons. The two of them
practiced and practiced, until finally Kat felt that the Clanless could field
any question she threw at him with competence and ease.
Chieko had found the abandoned factory on one of her routine scouting
missions. Those Champions who were in favor of the press conference all agreed
that the crumbling old building would be an ideal place to hold it. They
contacted the Media, then hunkered down to wait.
As predicted, the Media arrived in full force, descending like vultures
to carrion, ready to expose the bones of the story. Harata and Kat sat
side-by-side at an old steel table, perched on decaying chairs. The Empirian had
done all she could to make herself presentable. She’d brushed her hair to a
sheen and twisted it up into a knot on her head. She’d fished out all her
makeup and applied it to the best of her ability in the dim light. Under the
glaring lights and cameras she felt as though her every flaw was being exposed,
but those who looked upon her saw only the cold, frozen beauty of a statue.
Behind them stood the rest of the Champions. Chieko, possessing no
composure, was waving wildly at the cameras and grinning happily for pictures.
Kazu, equally exuberant, stood beside her, beaming at the frenzied professionals
before him. Takaeyama was gazing his far-away gaze, completely cut off from the
hysteria around him. He’d become even more silent than usual, rarely saying a
word, even to Blue. The Night’s Herald stood beside the Corduran, and might as
well have been looking out over a field of daisies. He pretended not to notice
camera-shy Ayame trying to hide behind him. Yukiiae looked nervous, Mina bored.
Keisuke stood a bit apart from the others, sullenly looking at his shining
boots. Occasionally, he would snarl at the cameramen who strayed to close.
Taking a deep breath, Harata observed the assembled Media personnel. It
was now or never.
“First of all, I’d like to thank all of you for coming here today. As
you have been informed, we are the Champions of Diasminion. We’ve called you
here today to spread the word of our mission. I am Harata, the Clanless. I’ll
be giving you a brief today. Following that, we’d be happy to answer any
questions that you have.
“Now, to begin with, I’m sure you must all have your doubts as to the
authenticity of my claim. I am Clanless, and I am Diasminian. Chieko, if you
will…”
Chi sprung forward, bearing Harata’s ID card, which she displayed to
the group of reporters. She allowed each of them to touch it- some waved hands
bearing LDs across its surface- and made sure that everyone had read it clearly.
The crowd began to murmur.
“My story begins on the docks of Min Harbor in Mianuus…” Harata
calmly told the tale of his arrest, meeting the Champions one-by-one, of their
travels thusfar. He mentioned nothing of his life in the Otherlands, still
claiming amnesia. He hadn’t even discussed his past much with the Champions-
with the exception of Ayame, and he often wondered if telling her was a mistake.
“And so, we embark on our mission, one which, I have been told, holds
the fate of our world in the balance.”
“We will now take your questions,” announced Kat coolly.
All around the nation, people were staring at television sets, mouths
agape.
In a quiet mountain town, a middle-aged woman cried out to her husband.
“Raian! Raian!”
“What?”
“That’s… that’s our son…”
She pointed frantically at the image of the blue-haired young man on the
screen, the one whose gaze seemed focused on some faraway land.
“What’s he doing with those people?”
“Says he’s claiming to be a Champion. They’re all saying that
they’re the Champions of Diasminion!”
“Never was right in the head, that boy.”
“That man,” she pointed to the handsome, black and white haired man
on the screen, “is Clanless. He’s got the ID and everything-“
“He looks brainwashed, doesn’t he?” Raian commented of his son.
“Do you think it could be true? I mean, our son, the Champion of-“
“Are you kidding, Rena? It don’t matter none anyway. He’ll always
be a useless fa-“
“Raian!”
“What?”
“We. Don’t. Speak. Of. It.”
Raian fell silent.
“I don’t see Keita…” his wife murmured.
“Good riddance. Turn this off, will ya?”
On the screen, a lovely reporter fired off a question.
“In the Legend, it speaks of Qa Haran returning to unite the Clans.
You, however, are not Qa Haran?”
“I am not,” Harata replied evenly.
“Then why are you claiming his role in this? Where is Qa Haran then?”
“For reasons unbeknownst to us, Qa Haran is in Elysium, unable to
return-“
The screen went black as Takaeyama’s father switched it off.
In Mianuus, Chieko’s father sat in his favorite chair, a letter from
his daughter clutched in his hand. Could this be true? Could she really be… A
mixture of fear and pride swelled within Mr. Kawamoto. She’d always been a
star, his little girl… but, this would be so dangerous. She was out there
somewhere, living like a fugitive. That didn’t seem to be dampening her
spirit, though. He smiled at her exuberant image on the screen. No, he
thought. Nothing gets
my little girl down.
Chi was grinning at the reporter who was asking her,
“Miss Kawamoto, it is understood that you were kidnapped by this
man,” the reporter motioned to Harata, “while on the overnight train from
Mianuus to Matsuka.”
“Well… kinda, but-“
“Are you being held against your will?”
“No way!” Chieko bounced happily. “I’m a Champion. I totally want to do this. I always
kind of felt that I was special, you know? But, I mean, wow. This is just
amazing, and it’s 100% for real.”
Nope. Nothing gets my little girl down.
Mr. Kawamoto let pride win out. There would be plenty of time for fear
tomorrow.
“I don’t believe this! This is- this is an outrage! How could she? How could she do this?”
Kat’s mother fumed where she sat, while her father paced around, barely
looking at the television set.
“I’m destroyed,” he muttered. “Unless…”
“You can’t believe she’s really a Champion.”
“Does it matter? It’s what the people believe that counts. This motley
little group is doing a good job convincing the Media.”
“No doubt our daughter had a hand in that.”
“And she did well. People are going to eat this up.” He rubbed his
hands together.
“And if this is all a ruse?”
“Look at that guy!” Senator Minato pointed at Harata on the screen.
“It’ll be easy enough to say he hoodwinked them all. Brainwashed them. She was kidnapped
after all.”
On the screen, Kat was answering a question on that very topic.
“Miss Minato, you were kidnapped alongside Miss Kawamoto. Do you share
her feelings?”
“It has been trying at times, but I do agree with Chieko that we are Champions.
Some of the events I’ve witnessed have been too uncanny to explain any other
way.”
“Is it true that you were running away from home at the time you were
kidnapped?”
“No, that is not the case. I’m sure my parents, Senator and Mrs.
Minato, have already spoken to the press on that subject.”
Kat’s parents sighed with relief.
“Not doing a bad job, really, our Kat,” mused the Senator.
“We’ll see,” her mother settled back in the chair, her features
cold and cunning.
“That’s General Kurokawa!”
“It’s the Commander!”
“What’s he doing with those people?”
The office was ablaze with the voices of soldiers within. They’d
dropped everything and gone to stare at the television. It was true. There he was, General Keisuke
Kurokawa, standing behind the man who claimed to be the Clanless One of legend.
“He doesn’t look too happy, does he?”
“Would you?”
“They’re saying he’s the Champion of the Angemal.”
“Now that doesn’t
surprise me.”
“Shut up! He’s talking.”
On the screen, a reporter asked,
“General Kurokawa, you were leading the troop of HeadHunters sent to
catch Mr. Ishiyama and Harata, is that correct?”
“Yes,” Keisuke answered through clenched teeth.
“And now you’ve joined them.”
“Apparently so.”
“Why is that? You had a stunning career.”
“I was bested by the Clanless in a feat of Honor. I am now bound to
him.” If the eyes of the Commander could incinerate, the Media monkey before
him would have been no more than a pile of ash.
“So, uh…” The reporter was momentarily flustered. “You don’t believe
that you are the Champion of the, uh, Angemal then?”
“Oh, I do. I do indeed. As Miss Minato so aptly put it, things are
‘too uncanny’. As to whether or not I care, that’s a different story.”
In a small town in the south, a woman peered close at her television.
“Isn’t that Mina?”
Her husband came to join her.
“What, honey?”
“Mina. Isn’t that her?”
“Hm… could be. Looks an awful lot like her.”
“Gods, it’s been so long. I totally lost track of the time. She looks
really grown up, doesn’t she?”
“What did she say she was doing the last time you talked to her?”
“Oh, what was it? Weapons research, I think. Something like that. She
always did like killing things. I wonder where that came from?”
“Search me. What’s she doing on television?”
“Seems she’s joined some kind of cult.”
“Cult?”
“They’re claiming to be the Champions or something.”
“Wow. I guess she always was a little strange.”
“I wonder sometimes… If we’d done things different, paid more
attention-“
“Don’t be so hard on yourself! Mina always understood. Besides, she liked being by
herself.”
“She’s not by herself now.”
“No, I guess she isn’t.”
“Mommy. Mommy. Mommy!”
Marii sighed. She was hurrying through the streets of Kitaka’en’s
market district, trying to get the shopping done in the small window of time she
had available. She had no choice but to take Riku and Natsuno along with her.
She couldn’t leave them alone with Raiken… not after what happened last
time. Now, her son was tugging on her overalls. Bet he wants candy.
“What is it, Riku?”
“Look, it’s Daddy!”
“What? Where?” Marii scanned the crowd, hoping to spot her missing
husband.
“On the tee-vee!” exclaimed little Natsuno. “Look at Daddy!”
And there he was, multiplied ten times on the screens of the television
sets in the window of the electronics shop.
“Kazu…”
“Why is Daddy on the tee-vee?” piped Riku.
“I don’t know, honey.”
They stood and watched, stood and listened. By and by, more people
stopped to look at the screens. The crowd began to mutter. A Champion. That was
why…
Suddenly, the pages of pictures that had arrived the week before made
perfect sense.
