Fukusha Model Eight – Chapter 11

I should ride on the butsu, but instead, my pride forces me to walk. Wherever it is we’re going, I want to get there quickly, deal with Atsumi, and then hide away from the people that took me for a naïve and vulnerable little girl. I can’t look at Saki, much less be anywhere near her, so I push out ahead the entire way there.

My instincts tell me to stay awake, to keep alert, and keep my enemies in my sights. I don’t know Saki. I thought I did, but I was wrong. She told me she was an only child and on her own, and I believed her. I feel confident now that was all a lie. Maybe the only thing true about her is that she likes to fight, and that means she’s someone I should stay far away from unless I’m willing to fight back.

By the time we arrive in Gobo, I’m dead on my feet, my stomach is ready to eat itself, and my head feels like an elephant is running around inside of it.

Gobo is a speck of a town. With only two main streets and a smattering of Japanese storehouses along them, the place reminds me of the smaller hamlets back home. But what it doesn’t have in size, it makes up for in charm.

We walk along the avenue stretching west to east, blending in with the locals running their morning errands. The air is rich with the smells of baking bread, and music rolls into the street as we walk by an open café. Tōsha projections point us towards the town hall, a local hot spring, and a Kiiroi Yama police box. We pass a shop selling Kyoto style fans, another selling goods made from recycled kimonos, and a brewery I would love to get numb at. The city streets and buildings are well kept, much nicer and tidier than Kitakyushu, but I’m not surprised. The Southern Continent may be lawless (according to Rin), but it’s full of people trying to make a life for themselves.

“Cute place,” I say, smiling at a shopkeeper as we walk past her sweetshop. My stomach growls in response. Not only am I exhausted and I have a migraine coming on, but I’m also starving. “Where are we meeting Atsumi?”

Kazuo points ahead. “On the other side of the temple in the square is a secondary road we can take out to the house we’re staying in until we’re called.”

“Until we’re called?” Who the hell do these people think we are? Their slaves at their beck and call?

Kazuo doesn’t respond. He looks tired too.

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Don’t apologize. I got us into this mess in the first place.”

“No, I don’t believe that… How?” I ask, moving closer and holding onto his forearm like I did when I was a kid.

Kazuo rolls his eyes. “I was stupid. I had a group of guy friends I was hanging out with on a regular basis. I was supposed to meet up with Rin, but first I went out to have drinks with them. One moment I was laughing at jokes. The next I was in a lump on the floor outside of my apartment door.”

“Then why didn’t they take you instead of Rin?”

“Did you ever talk about me to Saki?” he asks, directing me around the temple gates at the town square. The red torii gates tower over us as we walk past, and in the temple grounds, temple maids wearing white tops and wide-leg, red pants sweep the sidewalks with sparse brooms.

“No, I don’t think I did.” I try to parse through my memories, but my brain hurts too much. “I really did try to keep all the details of my life secret. I told her I had a brother, not two brothers. I told her my parents lived far away. But I let Rin’s name slip once without thinking. Then I figured I had already messed up, so I talked about him now and then. Stupid me, I even described him. I’m terrible at this undercover stuff.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

No comment.

We proceed up the adjacent street past the temple until we’re at the second to last building on the block. It’s a two-story, pre-fabricated building in the style I’m used to from months in Kitakyushu. Not a bad place to live by any means, and certainly better than the flophouse I stayed in. Still, the houses are devoid of character, and except for the choice of flowers in the flower box outside, they’re identical, like marching soldiers making their way up the street.

I catch sight of Atsumi in the upper balcony before she turns and heads inside. The front door opens a few moments later, and she ushers us all in, Saki and Shun included.

“Ugh, I forgot you had a dog,” she says, looking at Ninjin. He puts on his biggest grin, the one where he lets his tongue drape out to the side and blasts his dog breath on the person admiring him.

“Ninjin, sit.” He plants his butt, and once again, I’m glad he’s not one of those overly exuberant, jumpy dogs.

Atsumi blinks in surprise. “At least he’s well behaved.”

It takes every last gram of energy I have to not punch her in the face.

“He’s also tired, thirsty, and hungry. Just like the rest of us. Can we come in?” I kick off my shoes, not waiting for the invitation.

“Of course.” She backs away from the door and pats her hair held back by a bandana. I’ve never seen her so dressed down. “Come in. You and Kazuo can have the bedroom upstairs. Saki and Shun can sleep on futons in the front room.” She turns to them as I step out of the way. “I hope we can resolve this situation within the next day. I need Rin Hara back in the ranks, doing the work he’s supposed to be doing. Not rotting away in some hole you’re keeping him in.”

I ricochet off the hallway wall as I try to lead Ninjin back to the kitchen. I’m so tired I can’t walk in a straight line.

“Trust me. We have a more important mission we need to move on to after this,” Shun assures her, holding his hands out. “We need access to a tablet to talk to our people. I’ll have to let you know what they say. Come on, Saki.”

The front door opens and closes, and I assume they’ve gone outside to get privacy.

“And you,” Atsumi says, following me to the kitchen, “you are fired.”

“You,” I growl, tapping into my anger, “are a fucking dead woman.”

I lunge for her and clasp my hands around her neck faster than she can outstep me. We fly into the refrigerator, and it rocks left to right, glass breaking inside. Atsumi is Kiiroi Yama, and although I’ve never seen her fight anyone, her instincts are quick. She drives her arms up, knocking my hands off. I deflect a kick to my stomach, but she smacks me upside the head with her left hand.

My temple erupts in pain, the migraine rushed into battle by the force of our fight. I sweep my legs out and bring Atsumi down on her butt as Ninjin barks and jumps on her.

Kazuo leaps into the fray, pulling Ninjin off Atsumi and holding us both back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Atsumi screams at me, wiping blood from her bottom lip. I don’t know how I gave her the split lip, but I’ll take it.

“You tried to kill me in Kitakyushu! Let me sleep on the streets! Gave me up to a fucking yakuza drug lord! And I’m supposed to just walk in here and let you talk shit to me?”

She denies none of this. Instead, she raises her chin.

“Just you wait until I tell Rin what you did,” I practically spit at her. I expect this statement to bring on excuses for her behavior.

“It doesn’t matter, now, does it? Because he’s going to Orihimé with you. He’s not staying here where he’s needed.” She tries to approach me, but Kazuo pushes her back. “I did what I had to do to keep him here. He belongs here.” Her voice growls with anger. “And I obviously did a piss poor job of it since you’re still alive. What does it take to kill someone like you, anyway?”

She sighs, and she actually sounds regretful. Whether she’s regretful because she didn’t accomplish her goals or she’s regretful because she even tried to kill me in the first place, I don’t know.

“A lot. We were supposed to be working together.” I jab my finger at her. “Forget Rin. Okamoto is going to shit bricks when he finds out what you did.”

Now, finally, she pales.

“And don’t try to stop me, either. I just spoke to him this morning, and he already knows most of what happened.” A lie, but I’m so angry, it’s convincing.

She swallows, probably watching her whole career flash before her eyes. These people value their jobs, their corporations. Would she be out on the streets if Okamoto heard about this?

“I’m sorry,” she says, stiffening and bowing. “I saw a future without Rin at Kiiroi Yama, and I didn’t like it. I acted out of malice and spite to protect the corporation.”

“Getting rid of me does nothing to protect your life or your corporation. If I die, you will literally be on the edge of an apocalypse once my people get here.” There’s no way my family will ever forgive these people, and my family is fierce when challenged.

The room spins, and I lean against the kitchen counter, grasping the edge and holding on until the world gets back to the business of staying still. With the rush of the fight complete, this migraine wants to be the center of attention.

“Truce?” Kazuo asks, raising his hands, palms out.

Atsumi nods once and looks away. I shrug at Kazuo, and he turns on Atsumi.

“Don’t think I’ll forget this either,” he says, his voice low. “You bald-faced lied to me about Yumi’s well-being. You’re lucky Yumi got to you first.”

Blowing out a long breath, I open my eyes to slits and find the two of them staring each other down. I search the kitchen for a bowl for Ninjin, fill it with water, and set it on the floor for him.

“Yeah, well, this doesn’t solve Rin’s current predicament,” Atsumi says, not willing to let any little advantage go. She leans past Kazuo to address me. “If only you had kept your mouth shut and not talked to anyone. You were supposed to lie low. I told Rin there was no way you could do it, and I’m pissed at myself that I was right. I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

My head throbs, and Atsumi sounds far, far away.

“Lay off her, Atsumi. Being a spy isn’t her job. She’s a journalist, for fuck’s sake.”

“Thanks, Kazuo,” I say, holding back a wave of nausea. My god, they come on so fast, so fast.

“Well, she fucked up. Big time.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. Look up. Make eye contact.

“I wouldn’t have fucked up if I hadn’t been so miserable there. I spent most of my days trying to get by, and most of my nights fending off rapists and drug dealers. So sue me because I let a few details about my life slip.”

One more deep breath. The room is spinning.

“A few details?” She approaches me, and I swallow, trying to keep yesterday’s dinner down in my stomach. “I thought you cared about Rin, that you wouldn’t put him in harm’s way over something so stupid.”

“I didn’t… I… can’t…”

I turn and puke into the kitchen sink. The world swirls around me and turns black.

My head explodes.

I hit the floor.

Ninjin barks.

I open my eyes.

I have no idea where I am.

—-

“What happened?” Atsumi screams.

I’m on the floor of a kitchen. Atsumi is pressing a dishtowel to my forehead, and Kazuo is hovering over me while Ninjin is whining and panting in my face.

“Where am I? Kazuo, how…?” I try to stand up, and Kazuo lunges to help me, but I windmill my one free arm to loosen myself from his hold. The kitchen shrinks, and my chest tightens, panic hugging me to death.

“Stop. Stop!” I push them both away. The room dances, seeming to close in on me, so I back myself up against the refrigerator and press my eyes closed. Ninjin whines at my feet.

Think, Yumi! What happened to me?

The last thing I remember was… Was it the Fake-Rin? No. I remember walking after.

“Yumi,” Kazuo prompts, “look at me.”

I peel my eyes open, but the light hurts my head. Is it the afternoon?

“There was Rin… and a knife.” My memory is a tiny child’s hand reaching for details.

“Oh… oh no,” Kazuo says, approaching me slowly, his hand out. I slap his hand away, but he doesn’t give up. “It wasn’t Rin. It was an android. You killed it.”

I press my eyes closed and concentrate so hard my forehead aches. “I stabbed it in the eye.”

Atsumi gasps. “There was an android version of Rin?”

The previous evening fades into focus. The fight with the android, Shun and Saki, the betrayal, the walk here. I tried to kill Atsumi. My eyes water with tears, and when I wipe them away, blood covers my hand. I follow the blood up to my hairline and find a deep and painful cut.

“Yeah, we didn’t get around to talking about that yet because you were too busy ripping Yumi a new asshole.” Kazuo takes the dishtowel from Atsumi and brings it to my forehead. I wince in pain and close my eyes again. I can’t bear the brightness of this room. “Do you know where you are now? We killed those yakuza and got through the checkpoint.”

“It’s coming back and so is a migraine.” My lower lip shakes. “I’m… I’ve been experiencing short-term memory loss. And not just stupid stuff, like I forget to grab something on my way out the door. More like I can’t remember what I did the day before, and it takes a lot of thinking to bring it back. I was only in Kitakyushu for two weeks before I couldn’t even remember Rin’s apartment number anymore. I had to open a map to remember the name of his ward.”

It starts with a K. Ka-something.

I’m glad my eyes are closed because both Kazuo and Atsumi are so quiet I imagine them with horrified looks on their faces.

“I woke up one day and freaked out because someone was in bed with me. But it was Ninjin, and I couldn’t remember his name.” Ninjin jumps up and licks my arm, so I open my eyes.

Kazuo looks at Atsumi, and her face is dead like she just heard her career is over.

“We need to get her to a doctor,” Kazuo says, his voice insistent and not wavering, but Atsumi shakes her head.

“If we were in Shin-Osaka, I’d take her to the best neurologist in the business. But we’re not. We’re in no man’s land. There may be neurologists here, but they’re not accessible.”

She grabs another towel and mops my blood off the floor. I smell vomit too. Did I throw up? I smack my lips together and decide that I did. I must have thrown up, passed out, and hit my head on the way down.

“Shit. So much of this plan hinges on Yumi doing her job. And she’s losing her memory? If I can’t rely on her, how will we get Rin out? How will we find Shiroi Nami and stay away from the yakuza?”

I’ve never seen Atsumi out of control before, and I don’t like it one bit. I kinda wish I had killed her so I wouldn’t have to see this.

“Please,” I say, trying to catch her attention. “I’m sure we can make this work. I just… I just need some help.” My voice catches on the last word. I never ask for help. Even Kazuo raises his eyebrows at this.

Light flashes across my brain, and I groan. The pain is overwhelming.

“Right now, you’re not going to do anything. You need meds and rest, and once the migraine is gone, you may need food too.”

Atsumi sighs. “I’ll clean up here, and then I’ll go through the medkits we brought with us. There’s bound to be painkillers in there.”

I grasp Kazuo’s arm as I sway. “The migraines last two, sometimes three days now.” I burst into a sob. “I don’t want Rin to suffer because of me.”

Kazuo sinks in disappointment before wrapping his arms around me. “Don’t worry, kako. Let’s get through this first before we get to that.”