2: The View Below the Water

23 April, 1732 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

South Entrance, Keio Line Chofu Station, Chofu, Tokyo Suburbs

Kaname and her friends sat in a burger joint under a department store. They munched on fries, talked, and messed around.

Sousuke had followed them. He was currently sitting in a corner in the back, pretending to read a Tokyo Sports paper he’d picked up three days ago in the station. But all the while, he remained acutely focused on his surroundings.

There was a figure in his field of vision that concerned him: a man in his late twenties with a medium height and build, sitting behind Kaname at one of the counter seats. He wore a gray beret low over his eyes and had a black attaché case at his feet. He kept checking his watch, as if very conscious of the time.

That attaché case... could it be...? Sousuke wondered. It looked a lot like one he’d seen in a War Against Terror weapons catalog. It had a built-in machine gun, and you could press a button to switch it to firing mode.

The man finished off his hamburger and stood up, tray in hand. Is he making his move? Sousuke stood up. But the man just threw his trash away, placed his tray in the return, then hurried out.

Or not, he thought. No, wait... The man had left the attaché case behind. Could it be— Damn!

Sousuke had heard about this MO from an acquaintance who’d fought terror in Italy—blowing up an entire business to take out an assassination target. But... weren’t they trying to abduct her? Sousuke thought. But then, circumstances might have changed... Yes, he didn’t have time to question it!

Sousuke broke into run. He turned over a table and shoved a customer out of the way to snatch up the attaché case. It felt heavy in his hands.

Just then, Kaname turned around. “S-Sagara-kun?”

“Get down!” He knocked over a few more customers as he charged out of the shop. Somewhere free of people... He looked around. It was a shopping district in early evening, so the sidewalks were packed. But across the street was a parking lot. That might just—

“Out of my way!” Sousuke dashed out into the road. There was a blare of a horn. He turned to see a kei-truck bearing down on him. The driver failed to brake in time; Sousuke was hit and sent flying into a bicycle rack.

Out of time... The world was spinning around him. His consciousness fading, he forced himself to his feet. Throw it... throw the case. Throw the case somewhere safe...

“Hey, you okay?” Suddenly, the man from before was standing in front of him. He took the attaché case from Sousuke, opened it and looked inside. “Oh thank goodness, my manuscript’s okay... Thanks for trying to bring it to me.”

Sousuke just stood there, stunned, as the man clapped him on the shoulder and walked swiftly away.

A dozen people were staring at Sousuke—the truck driver, Kaname, and her friends among them—their faces a mixture of awe, confusion, and concern.

“Sagara-kun... What are you doing?” Kyoko, standing beside Kaname, asked him.

“I thought it was a bomb...” he said. And with that, he collapsed.

23 April, 1920 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Room 505, Tigers Mansion, Chofu, Tokyo

“You’re gonna get yourself killed before the week is out.” Kurz said as he bandaged Sousuke’s head. “We haven’t seen one sign of an enemy so far, but you keep taking yourself out like this. Can’t you just chill out?”

“I’m trying,” Sousuke moaned.

That incident at the hamburger shop had been just one of many. It had been four days since his mission started, but Sousuke was still floundering at school. Every day he seemed to lose his cool, make trouble, destroy public property, disrupt class—he’d been yelled at both by Kagurazaka Eri and by Kaname, herself.

His injuries were constant. He’d never suffered like this on a mission before. What’s more, most of his injuries—falling down stairs, busting through glass, being crushed by library books, getting beaten by busts in the art room—were the result of things he had brought on himself.

He knew that he was just off his rhythm. But that didn’t mean he could stop it. Kurz was right: he might die at that school, possibly very soon.

“You can’t keep this up. Just tap out for tomorrow—Mao and I will stand watch outside the school.”

“What if the kidnapper is inside the school?” Sousuke demanded.

“They won’t be. Honestly, we still don’t know if they’re after her,” Kurz breezed.

Sousuke just scowled. “It’s dangerous to be too optimistic,” he warned. “We should consider all situations as possible—”

“And that’s the thinking that gets you hit by a truck,” Kurz told him. “You ever hear the term ‘solo sumo’?”

“Solo sumo?”

“Yeah, solo sumo. Swinging yourself around by your own mawashi?”

“Mawashi?”

“You don’t know that either? How are you even Japanese? There we go...” Kurz finished the wrapping and went back to the window. “But here’s one thing I don’t get.”

“What?”

“Kaname. She seems totally normal. I mean sure, she’s pretty, but not ‘marry the king of Monaco’ pretty. Nothing weird in her background, either... Well, compared to you and me, anyway.”

“True... I suppose you’re right.” It was only these last few days that Sousuke had realized how different his upbringing was from most of his peers.

“So why would the KGB be after her?” Kurz wondered. “Same with the girl we found last week... I heard she was a totally normal student before they took her. What the hell do they get from kidnapping some foreign girl in high school and drugging the life out of her?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sousuke told him.

“Right? Same here. What the hell is the major hiding from us...”

23 April, 2121 Hours (West Pacific Standard Time)

KGB Branch Office, Khabarovsk, Soviet Union

“When are you going to get it done already?” the colonel barked into the receiver. He had ordered the kidnapping three days ago.

“Soon,” Gauron responded apathetically from the other end of the phone. The terrorist (nationality unknown) was currently staying in the Soviet embassy in Tokyo. According to reports from the embassy staff, Gauron had mostly stayed inside since his arrival, making only a few brief contacts with his men. “I’m currently laying groundwork. I need to do a lot of preparation to abduct the target safely.”

“Preparation? Just break in in the middle of the night, grab her, and drive her to Niigata. What groundwork could you need for such a simple plan?”

“You need to stop being so impatient.”

“What did you say?” the colonel fumed.

“Mithril will have prepared for such a straightforward operation,” Gauron predicted.

“You think they have eyes on this ‘Chai-dory Kanamm’?”

Gauron chuckled at the colonel’s crude pronunciation of ‘Chidori Kaname.’ “It seems that way. So I need to act carefully to avoid their notice.”

“What for?” the colonel demanded. “If they try to stop you, just eliminate them.”

“Not possible. Even if I sent all of my skilled men at the problem, we’d just end up dead for our troubles.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that they have an AS,” Gauron explained. “It’s staking out the target with an ECS on invisibility mode.”

“Invisibility? Full invisibility? There’s no way those devices are out of preliminary—”

Gauron interrupted him condescendingly. “Didn’t I tell you their technology was ten years ahead? Forcing a fight will just invite trouble. They’ve likely put elite agents on the case.”

“But...”

“Just leave it all to me. I’m preparing a method that will eliminate all chance of interference. You just be careful that you aren’t sent to an internment camp.”

With that, the man hung up on him.

24 April, 1438 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Classroom 2-4, Jindai High School, Tokyo

“Aaaanyway...” Kaname said, her back to the blackboard. It was afternoon homeroom. “Time to get off our butts and pick duty assignments for the field trip, okay? It’s only four or five days away, now.” She looked around the classroom. Some students were chatting with their neighbors, some were napping, some were reading the day’s manga release... “Hey, are you guys listening?”

There were a few scattered responses.

“We’re listening.”

“Figure it out so we can go already.”

Kaname sighed. “You guys... I never should’ve agreed to do the class rep thing... But I figured this would happen, so I made a list in advance. All I need you guys to do is approve it.”

“You rock, Chidori!” one of the boys cried.

Kaname flashed a smug V-sign. “No problem. Okay, here they are.” She pulled out her notebook and started writing names and roles up on the blackboard. Clack, clack, clack—the white chalk rang out through the room. “Food duty: Onda-kun and Sanematsu-san. Luggage duty: Aiyama-kun and Omura-san. Communications duty: Kazama-kun and Fujii-san. Event duty: Onodera-kun and Suzuki-san. And trash duty... since there were no volunteers: Sagara-kun.”

Sousuke, seated in the back and half-listening, suddenly sat up, startled.

“What’s wrong, Sagara-kun?” Kaname asked.

“I don’t recall consenting to that,” he frowned.

“Oh, it’s a rule at this school: all transfer students are required to perform trash duty.”

A stifled laugh rippled through the class, but Sousuke didn’t understand what it meant. “I see. Very well.”

“We appreciate your understanding,” Kaname told him brightly. “I’ll explain your duties later. Now, let’s vote!”

And so, in a unanimous vote, elite Mithril mercenary, Sagara Sousuke, was appointed to trash duty.

24 April, 1113 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Central Control Room, Tuatha de Danaan, 50 Meter Depth, Sea of Japan

Teletha Testarossa sat in the captain’s chair of the dimly lit control room. “A... field trip?” She tilted her head.

Major Kalinin, who had come by to file his regular report, opened his folder and handed her a document and a pen.

“Yes, it starts next week. We need you to approve a new secure channel so that we can maintain contact while he travels.”

Tessa signed the document. “It’s a strange school, taking a field trip at this time of year... Where are they going?”

“Okinawa.”

“I see.” Tessa turned her eyes to the military data map at the center of the screen ahead of her. Then, her eyes falling on Okinawa in the corner, she said, “Did I ever tell you that I lived there for a while?”

“No, ma’am,” the major answered.

“My father wanted me to go to a Japanese elementary school. But the children there kept me at arm’s length, so I was eventually moved to a school on the base.” The nearby executive officer of the de Danaan, Commander Mardukas, cleared his throat. Tessa broke from her trance and looked back at the document. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up here...”

“Not at all...” the fussy-looking XO Mardukas said. But apparently disinclined to weigh in further, he just went back to his work.

Kalinin politely ignored the exchange and resumed his report. “I also have new information regarding the broader issue,” he said, bringing things back to the original subject.

“The Whispered?” Tessa clarified.

“Yes. They’re doing the research at the Khabarovsk facility. Look at this.” He handed her a bundle of documents. It was a long list of chemical substances, some circled in red here and there. “That’s a list of rare drugs circulating in the USSR. According to the intelligence department’s analysis...” Kalinin continued his explanation, handing her one new document after another. Tessa took it all in, quickly scanning through each page she received.

“Is the Khabarovsk facility the only one involved?” she asked.

“That’s what the intelligence department reports.”

“That seems unlikely. Tell them to continue their investigation.”

“Yes, ma’am.” In fact, Kalinin had already given them that order, but he opted not to say it.

“Now, can the Khabarovsk facility’s computer be hacked?” Tessa inquired. It would make things easier if it could be—they could just access it using their computer here. The computer system of the Tuatha de Danaan could perform functions far beyond a standard warship’s control system. Its complexity was on par with a large mammal’s central nervous system, and its processing power put even the communication systems of the US Armed Forces to shame. It would be a trivial matter for a system like theirs to infiltrate a Soviet computer.

But Kalinin rejected that possibility. “The laboratory’s computer doesn’t have an outside line. We’ll need to stomp out their research through physical means.”

“I see... A cruise missile, then?” They didn’t need ASes to take out their target wholesale.

“Yes. A G-type Tomahawk should be enough. One strike from an FAE warhead should devastate the facility.”

“You have my permission,” Tessa told him, “but try to do it late at night on a weekend.” She hoped that would reduce the possibility of casualties; the researchers’ lodging houses were about a kilometer away from the lab itself. “Use Sting to collect the latest pictures,” she continued, referring to their observation satellite. “Find out as much as you can about who goes there, when, where, and in what numbers.”

“Understood. Now, regarding the Arbalest...” Kalinin handed her another document. Just then, the mountain of papers Tessa had cradled in her arms spilled out onto the floor.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m sorry...” She quickly moved to pick them up. Kalinin and the XO helped. “I’m sorry to drag you into this, Mardukas-san...”

“Not at all.” XO Mardukas handed the collected documents to Kalinin and said with annoyance, “Major Kalinin... Would you kindly switch away from paper already?”

“I’ll try, sir.”

Rubbing his temples, the XO went back to work.

“So, is this the document?” Tessa asked. “The... ah, ‘The seven oaths of trash duty’?”

“...No, ma’am.” Kalinin said, and gently lifted away the report that Sousuke had sent.

25 April, 1635 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Hachimoto-bound Local Express, Keio Line, Tokyo Suburbs

Kaname bookmarked her paperback and stood up. “All right, enough is enough.” She stomped through the train car to where Sousuke was sitting and planted her feet in front of him. As always, he was reading a newspaper. “What is your problem with me?” she said, enunciating every syllable.

“Chidori?” Sousuke feigned surprise. “What a coincidence.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?! You’re still pulling that?” Kaname snatched the paper out of his hand and looked it over. “‘Schwartzie Throws Hat into Governor’s Race.’ This is from days ago!”

“I can read an old paper if I want to.”

“That is so not the point!” she fumed. “Why do you keep following me?!”

“Me, following you?” Sousuke questioned. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about... You seem a bit self-involved.”

“I’d have to be more self-involved not to notice this harassment! You’ve been on me every day from dawn to dusk! If you want to say something to me, say it!”

“I told you, it’s a coincidence.”

There was a prolonged silence, filled only by the sounds of the train and a conductor’s announcement: “Next station, Kokuryo. This train stops at Kokuryo.”

Kaname tossed the paper aside, causing an elderly passenger nearby to frown at her. The trained stopped at Kokuryo Station, and the doors opened with a “fwish.”

“You’re saying it’s just a coincidence?” she asked at last.

“Yes, it’s a coincidence.”

“Fine.” A split second before the doors closed, Kaname leaped out onto the platform.

Fwish.

Through the glass of the closed doors, Kaname could see Sousuke panic—she’d outsmarted him. She smiled triumphantly and waved. “Bye-bye, Mr. Pervert!”

The train began to move away, carrying Sousuke with it. Bag in hand, Kaname walked toward a bench to have a seat. Just then...

As the train was about to leave the station, Sousuke came hurtling out of the window. He fell back-first onto the concrete, bounced, rolled, and only stopped when he crashed into the fence at the edge of the platform. For a moment, she could only stare. “Are you for real?”

Sousuke’s body just lay there, silently.

Kaname ran up, knelt down next to him, and shook him. “Hey, are you okay?!”

Suddenly, he sat up as if nothing had happened, said, “I’m fine,” and proceeded to stand up and dust off his pants.

“Are you insane?!” she screamed. “What were you thinking?”

“I just realized that I had to get off at this station,” Sousuke explained innocently. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“I can’t believe you’re still trying that...”

“It’s a coincidence.”

“Uh-huh...” Kaname shook her head and sat down on a nearby bench. Sousuke sat down next to her, and resumed reading the paper he’d picked up intently.

“And it’s just a coincidence that you want to sit here, too?”

“Correct.”

“Boy, you are really something...” She propped her head up on her knees and gave Sousuke a side-eye.

For some strange reason, his presence wasn’t creeping her out. He’d transferred to their school, burst in on her while she was changing, and seemed to follow her every day. Most people would call that stalking—Kaname had, too, at first. But something about that didn’t add up.

There was nothing about Sagara Sousuke that suggested lecherous thoughts, or impure motives. There was too much dignity in his profile. What was the term... “the fire of will”? He radiated the single-minded focus of an athlete before a match; that look of perfect calm that came from focusing all of one’s efforts on one single goal.

But that just made things more confusing: what reason could he possibly have for following her like this?

“Hey, Sagara-kun,” she said after a while.

“Yes?”

“Could you please just tell me what’s going on? I promise I won’t get mad.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You just happen to be where I am.” It was his standard response, spoken matter-of-factly.

Kaname decided that questioning him was pointless. “Yeah, fine, we’ll leave it at that. Then could your classmate who just happens to be where you are ask a question?”

“Certainly,” he told her.

“You lived overseas for a long time, right? Were things like this at your old school, too?”

Sousuke held a moment of silence, then said, “Yes, I had a very uneventful life.”

She pressed on. “But aren’t you lonely? You left all your friends behind.”

“No. We keep in touch via phone calls and letters, so I didn’t strictly leave them behind.”

“That’s a weird way to respond...”

“I found it appropriate,” he protested.

“Okay, well, were you dating anyone?”

“Dating?”

“Yeah, a girlfriend,” Kaname clarified. “A sweetheart. That kind of thing.”

“I don’t know anyone who could classify,” Sousuke confessed. “My comrade... my friend likes to say, ‘You couldn’t find someone to date you, even in a remote Chinese village.’”

Kaname cracked up. “That’s pretty hilarious.”

“You understand what he meant?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, you’re a total weirdo, Sagara-kun.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Major weird.” Kaname giggled to herself a little more, then said, “But that uniqueness could be a good thing. Maybe there’s a nice girl out there who’ll really get what you’re all about.” She wasn’t even thinking about whether she, herself, would be categorized as being a ‘nice girl’ or not.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her. “You’re very nice.”

“H-Hey, don’t take it too seriously. I don’t know anything about it.”

“I see. I’ll forget it, then.”

“Yeah, you’re a total weirdo.” Kaname laughed once again. At some point in the conversation, she’d noticed a warmth spreading through her body. It was like when a stray dog on the street started following you—a pleasant feeling, with a tiny hint of loneliness at its core. She found herself thinking, Maybe I’ll let this go a little longer.

A voice over the speakers announced the arrival of the next train.

25 April, 1905 Hours (Greenwich Mean Time)

Tuatha de Danaan, Periscope Depth, Sea of Japan

Diffused moonlight danced just beneath the ocean’s surface. Silently rising through it came a hull as black as pitch.

The Tuatha de Danaan—an amphibious assault submarine—resembled a shark with a stubby dorsal fin, increased in size by a few orders of magnitude. It looked like one of Shinjuku’s towering skyscrapers, set on its side in the water. The massive thing slid through the sea on its own power—quietly, ever-so-quietly.

Movement could be seen in the vessel’s aft: the opening of a cruise missile launch tube hatch, the firing of a silver cylinder. Raising a trail of sea-spray as it burst forth, the Tomahawk missile dropped its rear booster and spread its guidance wings. It rose higher and higher into the night sky, then came parallel to the water, and flew off over the north horizon.

“Launch sequence complete. Now closing MVLS hatch,” the fire support officer said, down in the central control room.

“Well done,” Tessa responded with a nod. “We’ll now dive to 100 meters and shift to a southward course.” Green letters on the main screen’s status board announced that all hatches were now closed. She confirmed the status of each, then turned to her executive officer.

“We’re all clear, Captain,” the XO, Commander Mardukas, replied. He was tall, lanky, and pale, with black-rimmed glasses on his nose. He looked less like a military man and more like a technician.

“Then proceed to submerge. Flood main ballast tank,” Tessa ordered with perfect confidence. “Angle of descent, ten degrees. Speed, 10 knots.”

When given their first command, even ten-year veterans of submarine life would frequently find their voices trembling when it came time to give orders. It should be even more daunting on the Tuatha de Danaan, the world’s most advanced submarine. And yet, this young girl showed no hesitance.

“Aye-aye, ma’am. Flooding main ballast tank. Angle of descent, ten degrees. Speed, 10 knots,” the navigator echoed.

Soon, the boat tilted and entered its dive. The cruise missile’s launch wouldn’t go unnoticed; they had to leave the area as quickly as possible. They could determine whether the missile had accomplished its task through the use of Mithril’s surveillance satellite, Sting.

“So... we’ll know in three hours, correct?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Why don’t you rest until then?”

Tessa shrugged off XO Mardukas’s suggestion. “I’d like to, but I think I’d just have bad dreams...”

The cruise missile was still in flight, after all. If it successfully hit the facility, it would take more than five years for the enemy to rebuild it. The intelligence department’s final report was that Khabarovsk was their only Whispered research facility; they’d checked around the country repeatedly, and found no other location with comparable equipment.

“Now, Major... Once the laboratory is destroyed, can we recall the bodyguards?” Tessa asked, as she sat back in her chair.

Kalinin, who had been watching over the operation by her side, responded, “Yes. However...”

“Is there an issue?”

“Ah... no, I’m sure it’s a groundless fear...” But his expression remained grim.

26 April, 1038 Hours (West Pacific Standard Time)

KGB Branch Office, Khabarovsk, Soviet Union

“The laboratory’s been destroyed!” the colonel screamed into the receiver. “A missile attack, of all things! Absurd! We’ve lost all of our experimental data on the Whispered, as well as all information about them...”

“My condolences,” Gauron said with biting indifference on the other end of the line.

“Well, we won’t be needing the girl anymore,” the colonel fumed. “We couldn’t do any research even if we had her!”

“I see. That’s too bad.”

“That means the kidnapping is off. Which means we can’t pay you.”

“Completely understandable.”

Gauron’s unflappable behavior had the colonel suspicious. “What’s going on here?” he asked at length.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem quite composed for a man who’s lost his source of income.”

“There will be other jobs,” Gauron remarked casually. “I’ll just go back to my former employer... with my little souvenir.”

“Souvenir?”

There came a tap-tap-tap on the other end of the phone. “My dear Colonel. Do you know what this is?”

“What? No...”

“It’s a DVD. Makes a nice sound, doesn’t it? And it’s packed with delicious data.” Gauron let out a muffled laugh.

“Is that our research data?” the colonel asked incredulously. “When the hell did you...?!”

“That’s a trade secret. Of course, I knew you’d be angry, so I took a few other measures... Goodbye, Colonel. Do watch your health in the internment camp.” Gauron hung up.

Someone knocked on his office door. Before the colonel could answer, three armed soldiers burst in.

“Colonel Smirnov?” a young lieutenant asked. “Party headquarters has grown concerned about your side dealings. They believe you’ve been siphoning state resources in a way that has proven detrimental.”

“Wait a minute, I—”

“You can explain everything at Lubyanka. Come with us.”

For a Russian, those words meant death. He’d be sent to an internment camp, undergo merciless interrogations... There was nothing left in his future but suffering. Slumping, the colonel let the soldiers take him away.

26 April, 2001 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Room 505, Tigers Mansion, Chofu City, Tokyo

Being cooped up in a room all day is a refreshing change of pace, Sousuke thought.

Today was Sunday, so Kaname had stayed in her apartment until noon. She’d eventually gone out, nominally to buy things for the field trip, so Kurz had gone to tail her with Mao’s arm slave backup. That left Sousuke to monitor Kaname’s apartment.

There was no sign of suspicious activity. At one point, a middle-aged woman with a child came by and rang her doorbell, but that didn’t seem cogent to their mission.

Kaname returned at last a little after eight o’clock. “2006 hours. Angel returns home. Nothing to report,” he whispered into the nearby microphone.

Not long after, Kurz made it back, seeming to be in a lively mood. “I’m baaaack! Oh-ho, I see you’re hard at work, Sergeant Downer-Man.”

As he approached, Sousuke picked up the distinct smell of beer. Eyes still focused on the camera view monitor, he asked Kurz, “You were drinking on a mission?”

“C’mon, I didn’t have a choice. I was only gonna have one, but Kyoko-chan kept insisting...” he said, leering.

“What did you say?” Sousuke said, shocked. “Kaname’s friend Kyoko?”

“Yep! Kaname, Kyoko, Yuka, and Shiori... I went right at ’em with my ‘lost foreigner’ routine. ‘Oh, thank you so much. Japanese girls are so nice!’” Kurz laughed wickedly. His personality wasn’t cut out for tailing people in secret, so he’d apparently just walked up and made friends.

“You idiot. What the hell were you thinking?” Mao radioed from her AS, as she got back to the trailer.

“Aw, but they’re such cutie pies!” Kurz whined. “After days of one stupid bitch for company, I needed an oasis...”

“Kurz, this is a top secret bodyguard mission,” Sousuke said critically. “Why were you socializing with them?”

“Huh? Are you stupid? Becoming friends means you can be up close, which makes the bodyguarding and surveillance tons easier.”

“Emotional involvement can cloud your judgment. To maintain level-headedness and objectivity—”

“Who fights their battles totally on logic?” Kurz demanded to know. “When shit’s about to get real, it’s your gut that tells you, not your head.”

“But...”

“Am I wrong?”

Sousuke fell silent; there was nothing he could say. He felt like the point at argument had shifted, somehow, at some point. “I’m afraid I can’t accept your point of view,” he said at last.

Noting Sousuke’s thoughtful expression, Kurz grinned and said, “They talked about you, too. Boy, did they ever... ‘Oh yeah, we had that weirdo transfer student! Right, Kana-chan?’ and such.”

Sousuke’s ear twitched. “What did they say?”

Kurz smiled triumphantly. “You wanna know?”

“No... Well, actually, for the sake of the mission, I think I should hear it.”

“Wrong answer. You gotta say ‘Please tell me, sir.’”

Sousuke said nothing, but his gaze suddenly intensified.

“Hey, just kidding. Don’t go nuts on me... Oh, whoa.” Kurz also turned serious as he flew to one of the monitors. Sousuke hadn’t gone quiet because he was angry; he had noticed something on the screen.

“2121 hours. Suspicious figure on the balcony. I’m going to investigate,” Sousuke said into the recorder, then stood up.

The monitor’s display was of the balcony side of Kaname’s apartment building. They’d installed a hidden camera on the roof of the building opposite it. On the screen’s left side, they could see a man clambering up the drainpipe. He was dressed all in black, his face obscured by a cloth mask.

“You don’t think... a solo operation?” Sousuke asked, as he screwed a silencer onto his 9mm handgun.

“Can’t say. He could have buddies nearby... We’d better check out the nearby cars,” Kurz responded, pulling out a sniper rifle with a night vision scope.

Through the radio, Mao’s voice chimed in. “Uruz-2 to team. We need to neutralize that man. Uruz-6, head for the building across from the apartment. Get to where the camera’s planted.”

“Uruz-6 here. Roger that.” Kurz would be backing up Sousuke from a sniper position.

“Uruz-7, you go take him down directly. I’ll stand watch in the parking lot.”

“Understood. Give me 120 seconds.” Picking up a rappelling rope and equipment set, Sousuke flew out of the room.

Two minutes later, he had arrived on the roof of Kaname’s apartment. He affixed the rope to the rail, and swiftly wrapped the other end around his body. He looked down and saw the figure climbing from the third floor to the fourth.

Kurz’s voice spoke over his FM radio receiver. “Uruz-6 to team. I’m in position. I don’t see anyone suspicious around... I think it really might be a solo job.”

“Keep an eye out around you,” Sousuke ordered, “especially your six.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, dumbass?”

Just then, they heard from Mao in the M9 again. “Uruz-7. She’s taking a shower in the bathroom right now. We couldn’t ask for better timing; take him down before she gets out.”

“Uruz-7. Roger that.”

“Don’t kill him.”

“I won’t.” Sousuke threw himself from the roof. He made no sound, except for the slight friction from the climbing rope. He kicked twice off the wall and was bearing down on the “enemy” in an instant.

The intruder, who was just climbing over the balcony railing, didn’t even notice him. Sousuke slowed his descent speed and kicked hard off the wall. Then, with a lithe twist of his body, he pounced on the man from behind. “Don’t move.”

The man gasped in shock.

Sousuke got him in a lock and pressed his gun to the back of his head. “It’s all over. Don’t say a word.”

The man nodded, trembling.

“Good. It’s good that you value your life.” Sousuke directed the man to lie face-down on the balcony. There, he straddled him, and gave him a thorough pat-down. He wasn’t carrying any weapons, but Sousuke did find a wallet in his back pocket. He took it out and looked through it.

He furrowed his brow. Inside the wallet was a student ID: Kazama Shinji, Number 10, Class 2-4, Jindai High School. That was the same school that Sousuke attended. The same class, at that...

“Uruz-6 to Uruz-7.”

“What?”

“Sousuke... Look at what’s in his hands.”

The man was holding bundles of cloth in both hands.

“Hmm. What are...”

“They’re panties,” Kurz told him. “Ohh, the alluring white of purity! Uruz-6 out.”

Sousuke glanced at the building across the way and made out Kurz’s silhouette in the dark. The man waved as if to say, “Yeah, we’re done here,” then started packing up his sniper rifle.

“Give me a damn break,” Mao groaned. Sousuke saw a small rippling in the air in the parking lot, moving away from him. It was the ECS-camouflaged M9, withdrawing to its trailer.

“What’s going on here?” The baffled Sousuke removed the man’s mask.

It turned out it wasn’t a man, but a boy—a boy with a slender, childlike, unassuming face. He was pale with fright, and all he did in response was shake his head.

“You can talk,” Sousuke told him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the boy cried.

“Keep your voice down!” Sousuke pressed the gun against him again in panic.

The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry. Please don’t arrest me.”

“I’m not with the police,” Sousuke admitted, “but please tell me what’s going on.”

“You won’t arrest me?”

“No. It’s all right.” Sousuke pulled away to let the boy sit up.

“Th-Thanks... Hey, aren’t you Sagara-kun from our class?”

“No.”

“Huh? But...”

“No.” Sousuke cocked his gun.

“R-Right...” the boy agreed shakily. “But what are you doing here?”

“Never mind about me. You... Kazama, was it? What are you doing here?”

Kazama Shinji showed him the half-dried underwear in his hands. “I’m stealing her underwear, see? Is that why you’re here, too?”

“No,” Sousuke said flatly. “I just happened to be passing by.”

“Oh, I... see.” Shinji tilted his head, but didn’t argue the point.

“Why were you stealing her garments?”

“Well... They’re not for me or anything. Murano’s gang—”

“Murano?”

Kazama Shinji explained the situation. They were apparently one of those delinquent groups—the kind every school had at least one of—and they’d ordered Shinji to steal Kaname’s underwear. Shinji was a member of the photography club, and they’d stolen the negatives for a set of photos he’d spent a whole year taking.

“They threatened you?” Sousuke asked.

“Not quite that bad. It was more of a ‘show us what you’re made of’ kind of thing,” Shinji explained. “And Chidori Kaname is Jindai High’s ‘prettiest girl you don’t want to date.’”

The delinquents likely had some sort of warped affection for Kaname—That’s why they’d come up with this childish prank. It was utterly foolish.

“I think I understand,” Sousuke said at last. “But you’re going to make trouble for her.” He was forgetting all the trouble he himself had made for her.

“I know, but... I really want to get my negatives back.”

“What are the pictures of?”

“Arm slaves. From the USFJ and the JSDF.”

“Oh?” Sousuke found himself leaning forward with interest.

“I took them at bases all around Japan. It was a ton of work...” Shinji trailed off. “You like that stuff too, right, Sagara-kun?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like it exactly...”

“I even got a picture of a Marine M6 in Okinawa.” The M6 was an AS first deployed in the early 90s. They’d had a role in the Gulf War, so they’d been frequently shown on the news, which had brought them a measure of public affinity.

“Oh?” Sousuke asked curiously. “Did you get the A2, also?”

“Yeah. Wow, you know your stuff. It had a reactive armor shield.”

“I see. How did it move, in practice?”

“Well, the base guys said the balance wasn’t great,” Shinji told him. “It’s got that Rockwell MSO-11 operating system, you know? There’s a lot of flab in the feedback architecture, so with a bilateral angle of more than 3.5, you get swung around by the weight of your gun. And the torque balance with the tip weight is already so clunky...”

Sousuke nodded over and over as he listened to the jargon-laden rant. “I see. That follows.”

“They’re best for ambushes or suicide runs, I think. The new M9’s got much better specs. And with a Bofors 40mm rifle—”

At some point, the two of them had struck up a real conversation.

Kazama Shinji’s knowledge of military matters was stunning, even to a professional soldier like Sousuke. Perhaps because he was an objective party, he had a unique, specific perspective. Sousuke entirely forgot the theft of panties, to let his geek flag fly.

“Your knowledge is impressive,” he commented. “It’s hard to believe you’re a civilian...”

“Oh, no, I still have a lot to learn... You’re very knowledgeable as well, Sagara-kun.”

“Oh, not at all...”

But the blossoming of this sad, nerdy friendship was cut short when the balcony door rattled open.

“Oh...”

Kaname was standing there, wearing nothing but a bath towel. She must not have realized they were there, because as she saw them, she went rigid. The towel exposed her shapely cleavage and long, curvy legs. Her wet black hair clung to her porcelain shoulders.

“What... are you doing?” Kaname asked at length, hand tightening on the towel’s closure.

“Ah...” It was then that Sousuke realized he’d been keeping his hands busy by playing with a pair of her panties. Nevertheless, he was able to say, with a completely straight face, “Chidori. What a coincidence.”

Kaname stormed back to her room to fetch her metal bat.

“That’s quite a mark,” Kurz said as he laid a wet compress on his friend’s arm.

“She really went after me. I tried to help Kazama escape, but he fell into the brush below.”

“From the fourth floor?”

“Yes,” Sousuke confirmed. “He hit a cherry tree first, and then the ground.”

“Were you trying to kill him?”

“I was in danger, too,” Sousuke protested. “I just barely managed to escape. But I wonder what the major would say if I was killed by my protectee?”

“Hmm... I think I can imagine,” Kurz commented.

He would sigh, then fill out documentation regarding the articles of the deceased, then move on to his next duty. Major Andrey Kalinin was not a man to be surprised by death—no matter where, how, or to whom it happened.

“I think she really hates me this time.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

A little while later, they got a call from Mao in the M9. “Hey, guys. I was just in contact with the de Danaan.”

“Do we have new orders?”

“Yeah. It looks like our mission is over. The enemy has no further reason to kidnap Kaname.”

“What does that mean?”

“Apparently they blew up the base of the people who were after her... all the data and everything,” Mao explained. “So, we can rest easy for now.”

Sousuke had never quite known all the details of the matter, but it sounded like the problem had been cut off at the root. “Will we return to the submarine, then?”

“Actually, we get a week off. We’ll get our next mission after that.”

“You mean it? Yippee!” Kurz joyfully threw his hands into the air.

Sousuke’s reaction was more conflicted. “I was supposed to go on a field trip in two days. It’s a four night affair.”

“And you’ve been told to ‘Have fun,’” Mao shared with him.

“The major said that?” Sousuke asked.

“Yeah. They already paid your travel expenses, so go and get your money’s worth. Apparently that’s an order.”

“But...”

“Go on, Sousuke,” Kurz coaxed him. “We know Kaname’s out of the woods, so why not go and relax a little? Enjoy life as a normal high school student.”

Sousuke meditated on Kurz’s words. “Very well,” he decided. “It could be a valuable experience.”

28 April, 0815 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

Passenger Waiting Area, Haneda Airport, Tokyo

“Have fun,” they had said. But starting the next day, Sousuke was having anything but. He’d been freed from the constraints of his mission, and he didn’t know what to do with that freedom.

Kaname did indeed seem to hate him—Even if they made eye contact, she’d just turn away and storm out with Kyoko or her other friends. She wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence

“I guess it makes sense,” Kazama Shinji lamented, as they sat together on an airport bench. “She caught you on her veranda, chatting and messing with her panties. Who wouldn’t be mad?”

Ever since that night, Shinji never missed a chance to strike up a conversation with Sousuke. It could be an obligation to his ‘partner in crime,’ or simply an affinity for his fellow geek.

The second year students of Jindai High School were in the airport’s waiting area, getting ready to board their plane to Okinawa. Class two had already boarded, and the students from class three were passing noisily through the gate now. Sousuke and Kaname were in class four.

“C’mon, Sagara-kun,” Shinji told him. “Cheer up already.”

“Sure,” Sousuke agreed. He wished he could go back to the Tuatha de Danaan. He’d have plenty of distractions there, with preparations for his next mission. Why in the world had he agreed to go on a field trip?

“Okay, class four! It’s time, so have your boarding passes ready!” Ms. Kagurazaka, their homeroom teacher, shouted out.

“You heard her, Sagara-kun,” Shinji announced cheerfully. “Time to board.”

“Right,” Sousuke agreed, gazing at the jumbo jet’s fuselage through the windows in the hall.

The stewardess breathed a sigh of relief once all the students were settled on the plane. The flight to Okinawa would be carrying the students of Jindai High School, alongside about 80 unrelated passengers. The regular passengers were sure to complain about the rowdy students; the separation of the seating was a placebo solution. Just thinking about the hours that lay ahead brought her an early morning headache.

“Excuse me.” A question by a boarding passenger snapped the stewardess back to attention. The man held out his boarding pass. “Could you help me find my seat?”

“Of course, sir,” she said after a pause. “Let me show you.” With the will of a professional, she forced her expression into a gentle smile.

“It must be tough,” he remarked, “having so many teenagers on board.”

“Oh, not at all.”

“I couldn’t stand it, myself. I’d end up dumping them all at 8,000 meters.”

“What?”

“You know, I’d kill them. It would make things a lot quieter,” he suggested, “and then I could enjoy a peaceful journey through the skies. Right?”

“Sir...”

“Just kidding. Ah, there I am...” The passenger laughed and headed for his seat.

What an unsettling laugh, the stewardess thought.

28 April, 0958 Hours (Japan Standard Time)

JAL Flight 903, Tokyo Airspace

The jumbo jet left Haneda and smoothly finished its ascent.

This was Kyoko’s first time on a plane, so she’d spent the whole time with her face pressed to the window, eyes shining. The sky was clear, allowing a full view of Tokyo stretching out beneath them. “Wow! Hey, hey, is that the Rainbow Bridge? It’s so cool!” she crowed.

“Sure,” Kaname agreed absently.

“Kana-chan, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look,” Kyoko pointed, “the Statue of Liberty!”

“Wow.”

“The Eiffel Tower!”

“Sure is.” Kaname, too, was in no mood for fun.

Kyoko poked at her. “Hey, what’s with you?” she asked. “You were acting weird yesterday, too. Did something happen?”

“Umm... Not really.” Kaname was mad at herself, more than anything. She’d shown Sagara Sousuke a tiny bit of interest at the train station last week, and that was her reward? He really was a freak, and a geek, and a pervert-stalker-creep. I was so stupid to trust him, she thought, and it couldn’t help but depress her.

“Is this about Sagara-kun?” Kyoko asked, cutting right to the quick.

“Wh-Where did that come from?” Kaname asked shakily. “O-Of course not. Ahahahaha.”

That was the ‘conversation over’ signal, but Kyoko persevered. “I knew it,” she said. “On Sunday, you were all ‘maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all,’ and then on Monday you had him on full cold shoulder mode. What did he do to you?”

“Nothing...”

“Hey, Kana-chan. If... If it’s you-know-what... you can tell me, okay?”

“Huh?”

Kyoko took Kaname’s hand. “You should really go to the hospital, too. I’ll go with you.”

“Hey...”

“Then after that, you gotta make him pay for it. There are lots of lawyers who specialize in this stuff,” Kyoko advised her. “You’ll be fine since you’re a girl.”

“What are you talking about?!” Kaname cried.

Just then, the plane bucked; it rocked first to the left, then to the right. Kyoko let out a shriek.

“It’s okay. This stuff is pretty normal,” Kaname said casually. Indeed, the rocking had already stopped. “It is a little weird, though, with the weather this nice...”

The students in the seats at the front were whispering about something. Finding it odd, Kaname tapped the shoulder of a friend in the row ahead of her. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure,” her friend told her. “Someone said they heard a pop before the shaking started...”

“A pop?”

Just then, there was a cabin announcement: it was a man’s voice, and it sounded like the captain. “Attention, passengers. We had a little turbulence from an approaching low pressure area. There may be a little more shaking as we change course, but there’s no need to worry.” That was all.

“That’s strange,” Kaname whispered.

Kyoko looked concerned. “Why?”

“I think they usually say, ‘We appreciate your patience,’ not, ‘No need to worry.’”

Indeed, Kaname was correct.