by Shouji Gatou
Kaname was stunned. “What did you say?”
“Run west,” he said firmly. “Take this transmitter and head for the shore. If our allies have come for us, they’ll be calling on that channel.” There was no guarantee that she could make it that far unseen; no guarantee their allies would come for them. But it was better than nothing.
“But then won’t you guys—”
“That doesn’t matter. Protecting you is our job. And it’s better for one to make it out than for all three of us to get captured.”
“But...”
Don’t worry about me, Sousuke thought. I’ve accepted my fate. I knew this is how I’d go out eventually, and so did Kurz. His dog’s death will be the result of the choices he made. But you... “You deserve to live,” he insisted. “Go.”
My duty. My mission. They don’t matter—I just want to get her back safely, he realized. Even if she’s afraid of me, even if she hates me, I want to send her back to that joyful school building. Yes. If she didn’t make it back, I think I’d feel... sad.
“Go... without you?” There was a long silence. Kaname looked at Sousuke, then at Kurz. She seemed genuinely uncertain, even though she had nothing to be uncertain about.
If there was a way to save any one of them, they should take it—that logic was universal. No one would blame her for leaving the wounded behind, Sousuke thought. Running away was the natural choice.
The silence lasted for about a minute. Then, at last, Kaname answered: “No.”
“What?” Sousuke asked incredulously.
“I said no. I’m not going to run away and leave you here. There’s got to be another way out of this, so let’s put our heads together and figure out what it is.” Her voice was different now than it had been before. It was quiet and cool, backed by a deeper, resonating strength.
But Sousuke persisted. “Listen, Chidori; I’m a specialist. There’s no way all three of us will escape under these circumstances. Just getting you to safety will be difficult enough. Those are the facts.”
“The facts? You don’t get to decide what ‘the facts’ are.” Her voice had a slight anger behind it.
“But—”
“Shut up!”
Sousuke stared in disbelief at her bracing rebuke.
“The entire time we’ve been walking through this mountain, I’ve been thinking... and I’ve finally worked out how I feel.” She took in a deep breath, then proclaimed her diagnosis: “Sagara-kun, you are a huge idiot.” She continued, “I’m grateful that you wanted to save me, but don’t you see that you’re forgetting something? Something really, really, really important? I bet you don’t, because you’re a pathological downer and a fool... and there’s nothing nice about being saved by someone like that.”
“Hey...” he protested.
This was no longer the frightened girl of moments before. This was the Chidori Kaname from that school bursting with life, the one constantly blowing her top at Sousuke’s every transgression. She was standing before him now, feet planted and brimming with confidence.
“You want to know why?” she demanded. “I’ll tell you: it’s because you don’t care if you die. And that’s stupid! You don’t care about how I feel; you’re forcing this on me so that you can feel virtuous. Did I ask you to pine for me? Did I ask you to die for me? No, but I guess you think it makes you super cool, when it really just makes you a stupid downer jerk.
“Giving your life for someone only means something if you value that life. This is just a death wish! If you valued yourself, you’d at least try to fight this, but you don’t even care enough to do that! Think about it, okay? Who are you saving me for? Don’t you dare say ‘the mission’... and if you say it’s for me, I’ll kill you right here!”
The force of her rant sent Sousuke’s head swimming. He felt indignant, shocked, embarrassed, incredulous, confused... He had no idea what she was talking about. The one thing he understood, if vaguely, was that she was pointing out some flaw of his... and that she was right.
While his mouth flapped helplessly, Kaname just waved in annoyance. “Oh well, forget it. I’ll save us.”
“Wh-What?” he stammered.
“You said your idea was ‘the only way,’ right? That means you’ve thrown in the towel, and that means it’s all up to me. You got a lighter?”
“Yes,” he replied helplessly, “but what do you intend to do with it?”
“Oh, you know, set the mountain on fire,” she said. “It’ll draw loads of attention. In the chaos, we’ll steal one of the fire trucks or jeeps and beat it to the airport. Then in the chaos there, we’ll steal a plane. Don’t worry; I’ll fly it.”
“You, fly a plane? Do you have experience—”
“Of course not! But I’ve played flight simulators in arcades, so I’ll work something out. Once we have our plane, we’ll make for South Korea or Japan... anywhere south of here, really. Simple, right? So just shut up and follow my lead.”
Kaname’s proposal went beyond absurd into incoherent, yet her tone was completely serious. What might sound at first blush like a rant born of ignorance was something she clearly understood the full weight of. Flickers of tragic heroism passed across her face.
“I’m not giving up,” she said defiantly, and put a hand to her chest. “No way. You say there’s no way to save everyone? Well, I don’t accept that. I’m going to make it happen. You and Kurz-kun are coming with me. We’ll get out of here together, and make it back to Kyoko and the others. And then we’re going to live long, long lives. That’s my decision. You got a problem with it?!”
“Will and determination aren’t enough to make this happen,” Sousuke pleaded. “You need to listen to me.”
“How many times do I have to say it?! No!”
At last, Sousuke pointed his submachine gun at Kaname. “You have to go,” he told her flatly. “Leave us here and go.”
She tensed for a second, but then immediately relaxed, and looked straight at him. Her harsh tone from before was replaced by soothing calm. “If I don’t go, you’ll shoot me?” For some reason, there was pity in her voice.
“Yes,” he managed. “You’d be better off dead than captured and broken.”
“Oh, please... Talk about your tortured logic.” Kaname smiled and took a step toward him.
Why isn’t she afraid? Sousuke was starting to panic. His dawning realization that she was never going to obey him sent him plunging backward into despair.
“You’re wondering why I’m not afraid, right?”
“Um...”
“It’s simple,” she said kindly, pushed the gun away, and slowly pulled Sousuke into an embrace. She held him softly, with no trace of forcefulness. Her arms twined behind his back, and her cheek rested against his bloodstained shoulder. “I’m not afraid because I decided to trust you, just like you asked me to before...”
Sousuke could feel her heat against his chest. The pain of his wounds seemed far away, and his mind went blank. The blood pounded through him and all of his muscles tensed. He didn’t even noticed that he’d dropped his gun.
“So... So I don’t want to abandon you.” Her wet bangs tickled Sousuke’s nose.
“Chidori...” he choked out.
“It’s true... I was scared of you before. I felt like one of my classmates had turned into a completely different person. You were so strong, and so...” She balked for a moment, and then, as if to cast off her hesitation, continued, “But... you told me to trust you, right? So I told myself: ‘He’s doing everything he can to save me. So instead of being afraid, I’m going to trust him.’ Pretty noble of me, huh?”
“Yes,” he said at last. “Very noble.”
“Right?” she coaxed. “This is a major meet-in-the-middle thing for a teenager, okay? So you need to put in your effort, too. Don’t think things like, ‘I don’t mind dying.’ It’s too sad... Come back with me.”
Go back... with her? The thought was certainly appealing. If there were any way to do it, he’d try
it in a heartbeat. How wonderful would she look in the morning light?
Why was he trying to save her? Who was he trying to save her for? Sousuke knew the answer. For myself, he admitted. I want to go back with her. I want to be with her. I want to live.
He realized he had never wanted anything more in his life. With that realization, his tired, battered body began to well with new power. “Chidori...”
“Sagara-kun...”
Just as their eyes met, awkwardly—
“Er... Mm. Ahem.” Kurz, who was lying beside them, cleared his throat apologetically. Sousuke and Kaname gasped and sprung away from each other.
“You... You’re awake?” Sousuke asked.
“’Course I am...” Kurz said. “Pretty hard to sleep through all that shouting...”
“You jerk!” Kaname yelled. “Why didn’t you say something?!”
“It wasn’t an easy thing to interrupt...” Kurz grumbled, scratching at his temple. Then, teasingly, he added, “Or maybe I should’ve laid low a little longer? I feel kinda like I ruined a good thing. I mean... whew. You two. Man, oh man...”
Kaname’s face went red. “It’s not like that!” she shouted. “I just got carried away in the moment. I don’t have any feelings for him! None at all! I... I mean it!”
She... doesn’t? Sousuke was stunned by her desperate denial.
All through this, Kurz couldn’t stop himself from chortling; he only stopped when he began to wince. “Ugh, even laughing hurts... But you lose this round, Sousuke. The girl says your plan’s a no, so it’s a no. Besides, I think hers is better anyway.”
Sousuke furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Y’know, a mountain fire. It’s a good idea,” Kurz opined. “Way better than just dying here, at least. Of course, there’s no way it’d get going in rain like this. Think we could scare up some gasoline? But it still wouldn’t get far...”
“Right,” Sousuke agreed, “We’d just be giving the enemy our location.”
“You don’t know that,” Kaname interrupted. “An allied plane could fly overhead and see us from the sky.”
“We’re in enemy airspace. There won’t be any friendlies overhead.”
Kaname thought. “What about higher up, then? I saw it in a Harrison Ford movie, once... Spy satellites can see things from space. Do you guys have one of those?”
Sousuke had a moment’s hesitation about the thought of telling an outsider about Mithril’s recon satellite, Sting. But he quickly reconsidered, and said, “Yes. But it’s not as if it simply hovers over us. The orbits of recon satellites are highly classified; grunts like us aren’t told about them.”
“Actually,” Kurz whispered after a moment, “at the briefing before I shipped out, they showed us a satellite photo. It was of the airfield, taken yesterday at 1530 hours... What time is it now?”
Sousuke, eyes wide, looked at his watch. “0248 hours. Almost twelve hours since. Which means...”
Typically, a recon satellite took 90 minutes to complete one revolution. Given the rotation of the Earth, this meant they typically ended up above the same place once every twelve hours. If Sting had been over this area at 1530 hours yesterday, then it might make another pass very soon! And since they knew almost the exact time it would be here, why couldn’t they send a message in fire revealing their location?
Sousuke and Kurz looked at each other. “Heat signals” and “recon satellite”—these two key phrases, which might just snatch them from the jaws of death, had come to them from the mouth of a total amateur.
“What is it?” Kaname asked.
“I can’t believe we missed it...” Sousuke sighed.
“Kaname-chan,” Kurz said jubilantly, “you’re a genius!”
“Where did that come from?” she wondered.
Even so, the odds of the plan’s success weren’t great; lighting a fire would signal their enemies, as well as their allies. There was no guarantee that the satellite would see them, and even if it did, who knew if rescue would come in time? Letting Kaname run off on her own remained the better gamble.
Nevertheless, this was what she wanted: for them to go back together, or not at all. It was worth a try.
Sousuke stood up and shouldered his submachine gun. “I’d better go and do it,” he decided. “You stay here.”
“Okay,” Kurz said. “Don’t be... or, y’know what, do be reckless. If not now, when?”
“True.”
“Sagara-kun...” Kaname worried. “Are you going by yourself? You’re wounded...”
“I should be able to handle a little sneaking around. And...” Sousuke patted Kaname’s shoulder to ease her worries. “I don’t know why, but I feel re-energized.” And then, he vanished into the darkness.
With Sousuke gone, Kaname used a few extra scraps of cloth to wipe the dirt off Kurz’s face.
“Whew... thanks, Kaname-chan.”
“You’re welcome. By the way... did they tell you? The reason... they’re after me?”
“I can’t say I know much,” he admitted. “I got ordered to protect you, and I followed those orders. That’s pretty much it for me.”
“I see...” Kaname hung her head, then coughed. Her head had been feeling heavy for a while. It wasn’t so bad when she was talking to Sousuke, but an unpleasant feeling had begun to assert itself, washing over her and receding, like waves on the shore.
She felt vaguely like she was floating. Her mysterious dream from the medical trailer was coming back in fits and starts. Or was it even a dream? She couldn’t be sure.
Kurz seemed to have noticed Kaname’s state. “Not feeling well, huh? Did they drug you while you were in their custody?”
“Yeah... I don’t know what it was,” she told him. “They said it was a nutrient shot. It didn’t really do anything, but... my head’s been feeling strange ever since...”
“What else did they do?” Kurz asked.
“They... made me watch a movie.”
“A movie?”
“It was weird. All these words... they kept flashing in and out. I shouldn’t have known them,” she said wonderingly, “but I did... Basic elements for intervertebral disc dampers and palladium reactor reagents and such. The ECS’s invisibility mode is imperfect because excessive burden on the laser screen’s oscillation system creates an ozone smell—”
Kurz’s eyes went wide. “How did you know those words?”
“Um... Huh? What was I just saying right now?”
“You mentioned intervertebral disc dampers,” Kurz told her.
“Interver... what?” Kaname asked, feeling perplexed. “What does that mean?”
“It’s an AS part. You were speaking in jargon just now. And the flaws in the ECS... that’s something only military personnel should know.”
“W... Wait...” Kaname pressed her hands to her temples and shut her eyes tightly.
Kurz seemed agitated. “There’s no way a normal high school student could know that stuff. Where the hell did you learn about it?”
“I d-don’t know...” Was there some kind of secret stored in her brain? She thought back to the conversation she’d had with the doctor in the trailer. “Actually... one of them said something strange to me... She said I’d known those words since before I was born... She said I had something called black technology, and that... gradually, the knowledge... the knowledge...” As she spoke, Kaname felt the sensation returning. For the first time, she was consciously aware of what she knew.
“Knowledge... know... le... lelele... ah...” Nothing was rising in her mind, but something was sinking. She felt a vague of revulsion. There was also a sensation like déjà vu—the feeling when you come to a place for the first time, yet you feel like you’ve been there before. This was like that, but stranger, darker, heavier... So vague, yet so ever-present... “Can’t reme... mbe... r-r-r? Ber-r-rer...”
There was a monster hiding deep in her mind, and she couldn’t view it head-on. The more she tried, the more something in h
er soul revolted. It felt like her world was going to turn upside-down, and now it was all she could think about. I can’t do it. Can’t do it. Can’t. Can’t. Cacacacan’t can’t can’t... “Can’t... can’t-t-t... wha-what’s... going on?” It took everything she had to keep from shouting out hysterically.
“Hey, cut it out. Look at me... Hey, Kaname!” Kurz’s voice pulled her back to reality.
She realized that at some point, she’d begun ripping at the chest of her hospital gown. “Ah... what was I... I’m... I’m acting pretty crazy, huh?” Kaname laughed weakly, trying to sound self-effacing as she moved to hide her partly exposed chest. Instead, she just sounded half-dead.
“Listen, Kaname. Maybe you shouldn’t think about that stuff right now,” Kurz urged her. “Put it out of your mind. Don’t even... ugh.” His face contorted suddenly as if he was in pain.
“Are... Are you all right?” she asked.
“Of course not.” Kurz tried to lift his head, but it took all the strength he had. “Ahh, it’s frustrating. Dammit. Of all the times to be totally immobile...” He looked so helpless. Tears even began to form in his blue eyes.
Kaname leaned over a little more to blot away Kurz’s tears. “It’s not your fault,” she told him soothingly. “You’re really badly hurt...”
“But I just... I hate it so much,” he cried. “If I were feeling... just a little bit better, I’d have the perfect view...”
“Of what?” she asked him.
“Your cleavage.”
As Sousuke made it to the bottom of the mountain, the farm settlement came into sight again; he sneaked in and siphoned the oil out of an old tractor’s engine. He would have rather had gasoline, but all the tanks were empty—the economic crisis at work, perhaps, though the mere presence of a tractor signaled that the area was still fairly prosperous.
He ran out with the container of oil to one of the fallow fields. The wound in his side continued to throb, but it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t bear it. Sousuke began splattering the oil over the ground there. He looked at the time: 0328 hours.
All right... He pulled his survival kit out of his pocket and crushed up the permanganate pills, which were used as disinfectant. He sprinkled the powder on the oil and lit his lighter. The oil soon caught fire, and the flames began to spread.
