Fukusha Model Eight – Chapter 13

Rin is lucky to be kidnapped and held in such a gorgeous residence. I walk through the Nomura estate in Susami with my mouth open and my eyes on constant surveillance. Finally, someplace on this crazy planet reminds me of home.

Every fiber of my being is telling me to ditch these guards and run through this vast estate calling Rin’s name. I want to find him, hold him, look into his eyes and relish his presence before I throw it all away and tell him I’m the reason he was kidnapped in the first place. What if he’s been tortured, though? What then? I know what I have to do, and I’m willing to give up some data from Orihimé for his freedom.

I’m hot and sweaty from our cruise on the butsu in the midday sun, and I hope wherever we end up, there’s a shower I can use. The weather back in Shin-Osaka was consistently cool, rainy, and windy, but here along the equator, it’s hot and sunny almost all the time. I’m sure we’re due for some rain soon, though. It’s been a while. My head hurts more than it did this morning, a sign I both didn’t rest enough, and there may be a low-pressure system coming.

I could have a rebound migraine at any minute.

The traditional Japanese house invites in the wind, drawing it through the long wooden hallways and into the interior gardens. At each doorway, men or women bow and continue about their daily business. The estate appears to employ a large contingent of staff. I’m wondering why when I pass a door that leads outside to a stone pool filled with clear water and many bathers.

Ah, this place is also an onsen, a natural spa and hot spring. Though the pool looks like it’s filled with warm water, many full-foliage trees shade the area making it a peaceful place to relax.

But I’m not feeling relaxed. My blood boils like the hot springs outside. How could these people be holding Rin hostage while bathers sit around and enjoy themselves? What kind of sick bastards would do this?

I imagine they wanted me to come in here, tears in my eyes, throwing myself at their feet for a chance to release ‘my love.’ Well, if that’s the case, they’re sorely mistaken.

My lips harden into a line, and my determination to get him back with giving very little in return strengthens. They will not bully me around.

No, sir.

Finally, we’re led to another traditional Japanese room with straw tatami mats, paper doors, and dark wood pillars and ceilings. The scroll for the wall mocks me with its herons in flight, ‘free as birds.’ I’m convinced they chose it for the day on purpose.

Kazuo and I are ushered in, but Saki and Shun continue on.

“Hey,” I say, stopping in the hallway. The guard next to me tries to push me on into the room. “Is this the end of the line, Saki?”

She sighs. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed and take a shower. I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

“Somehow I doubt it.” My voice is drier than the desert we crossed to get here.

She chuckles. “See? Drama. You’re so full of it. What makes you think you’ve entered into a dangerous place?”

The night at the fight pops into my head. Saki had said, “Yumi, when are you not in trouble? God, you are so full of drama at all times.”

She had knowledge of me outside of our friendship, probably some kind of debriefing she got from someone about my personality and what she could expect. I had kept the drama and social interactions to a minimum so that statement wasn’t based on anything she had personally witnessed.

“I don’t know. Perhaps the fact that these people are holding my boyfriend hostage to extort data out of me instead of, maybe, just asking me for it and coming to an amicable agreement of what we could do for each other. The same fucking agreement I came to with Buichi Tamura. Well, shit,” I say, pulling back in surprise. “What a fucking novel idea.”

I turn away before she can answer and enter the room to sit next to Kazuo, seiza-style, on my knees and resting back on my feet.

“You’re not making us any friends here,” he whispers to me.

“Fuck this. I thought she was my friend, and then it turned out she’s really not.”

I flip-flop between still wanting Saki as my friend and wanting her as far away from me as possible. There needs to be some middle ground we can agree upon, but that’s not happening now.

Right now, I have negotiations to take care of.

A paper door slides open, and a man and woman enter. They’re both dressed in yukata, lighter summer-weight kimonos, dyed a deep indigo blue. The man looks to be in his mid-forties, his head thick with shaggy hair. The woman is a little younger, hard to tell, but her face is fresh and clean, and she’s pulled her hair up into a ponytail. They both seem confident and comfortable, which doesn’t surprise me at all, since they have the upper hand here.

Kazuo and I wait until they’re seated and then we bow, making sure to pause a full two seconds before sitting back up.

“Welcome to my estate. I’m Daito Nomura, and this is my wife, Miho. We’re honored you’re here, and we hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

His smile is gracious, and I want to punch it into next week.

“It’s not like we had much of a choice,” I mumble.

Miho snaps open a fan and creates her own personal breeze, unaffected by my rudeness.

“I’m glad you were able to make it here without any difficulty,” Daito continues, not acknowledging my statement. “Can we get you some food or refreshments?” He flicks his fingers at the open doorway, and two men bring in a low table, setting it in front of us. Two more young women follow them in and set up glasses of cold tea and plates of rice balls and pickles.

My mouth waters. Even though I had no time to refuse the offerings, I would have because becoming comfortable is not something I like to do in negotiations like this. My parents always taught me that staying alert and watching your opponents every move was the most important part of getting what you want. Food, drink, dancing or music are distractions you can’t afford.

“Thank you for the offerings. I’ll be sure to try them after we’re done.”

Miho bristles. “Are you denying our hospitality?”

“Not at all,” I say, raising my hand. “The food and drink look lovely, but I feel it’s important to concentrate on the business at hand first. Then, perhaps, we can sit and speak to each other as equals. It’s the way we do things in my family.”

“And, it’s true, you’re Minamoto?” Daito leans forward, hungry for more information.

“Yes, my family is Minamoto.” I glance sideways at Kazuo. “Will that be a problem?”

Daito pauses before leaning back and placing both of his hands on his knees and smiling. “Absolutely not.”

Hmmm, this is the exact opposite reaction I got from Tamura and Narumi Ogawa. They hated the Minamoto name, and it represented something wrong or evil in their view. With Minamoto blood still running through Shiroi Nami, this might mean that these Samurai Seven people have a connection to them. Perhaps we’re not so far off from our goal now.

“Great. Please, let us talk about why you have Rin Hara in custody and what you would like in return for his freedom.”

Daito’s facial expression sours. “It’s impolite to discuss such matters so quickly. This was only an informal gathering. I do not intend to move onto negotiations today. In a day or two —”

My temper rises, a flash of red-hot lava. “Are you joking?” I huff and turn to his wife who’s now keenly watching the exchange. “Please, if you were separated from your beloved, and he was being held against his will, would you wait days to negotiate his release?”

She fans herself a few times. “Hmmm, this is a good point, Daito. We don’t want to cause undue stress to our guests.”

The two sit silently next to each other, whatever they’re saying with their eyes is a secret only they can keep.

“It would be in your best interests to keep me as an ally, Nomura. The longer you make me wait, the less likely I’ll be to hear about your other problems besides what you want from me for Rin’s release.” I clear my throat, well aware I’m now sweating through the back of my shirt. “Speaking of which, I would like proof that Rin is alive and unharmed before we begin negotiations.”

I grab my tablet from my bag and hold it on my lap.

Daito laughs. “I will do no such thing. How do I know you don’t have something devious up your sleeve for when he appears before you? You will have to take our word for it.”

I try not to show my irritation, but a sigh escapes. I place my tablet in my bag and shift to stand up. There’s no way these people will give up Rin easily. Do I have to call in Kiiroi Yama and put his life in jeopardy to rescue him? It’s precisely what Atsumi told me not to do.

“Wait,” Miho says, holding out her hand. “Please forgive my husband. I think it’s been a long time since he was last in love.” The look she gives him speaks volumes about their relationship. “And he’s used to dealing with yakuza and Aoi Uma, both of whom are unhelpful, even at the best of times.” She places her hand over her heart. “You have my word that Rin Hara is unharmed and well. I had breakfast with him this morning. Though he is very quiet, I believe he is in good spirits.”

I suppose that’s the only assurance I’m going to get. I direct my attention to Miho, cutting off Daito. “Thank you,” I say, bowing again. “I appreciate that you’re willing to talk with me.”

She smiles, looking past me to Kazuo. “Does your companion not have a voice?”

“This is Kazuo Uchiyama, my custodian, friend, and the head of my security detail.”

Kazuo bows. “It’s a pleasure to be here. But in all instances regarding Minamoto family business, I try to remain apart and neutral. I’m here for Yumi’s guidance.”

“In general, he’s a tree or a rock, unless I need him to be more,” I say, letting my sarcastic side show. It was a good move. Miho laughs, and Daito stews.

“A tree or rock that walks your dog when you cannot,” he mumbles and makes Miho laugh even more.

“I met this dog of yours. Ninjin is such a charming name. I’m sure he’s in your room waiting for you.” She folds her fan and places it in her lap. “Please, let us talk, woman to woman.”

I grab my tablet again. “I heard you’re interested in the proprietary technology we brought with us from Orihimé. That you would trade Rin for something specific?”

“We’re interested in your medical nanotechnology,” she says, with a curt nod.

I smile in surprise. “This is unexpected. You’d like the nanotechnology? I figured this was something you already had.”

Her expression becomes serious. “Aoi Uma has been developing nanotechnology, but we’ve been unable to get information about their work. Specimens we’ve obtained have been hard to reverse engineer, and they’ve built some kind of fail-safe into them. This is technology we need, in an immediate sense.”

Daito slides his eyes to his wife, but she doesn’t flinch.

“I see. Let me look at the data for a moment.”

With the data device in my bag, I use the double password, my thumbprint, and one of ten possible spoken phrases to unlock the core database and access everything. Before we retrieved the data devices from Aoi Uma, we only had one layer of encryption set. Now we have the three that Kazuo set up. Though I left the data device alone in my dump of an apartment, I knew no one could crack the encryption without me. They could obviously destroy the device thinking we didn’t have a backup.

Of course, we have one, but even I don’t know where that is.

I scroll through the database until I find the medical nanotechnology. “Ah, here it is. We have specs on how to build the nano-bots, what they do, how they do it, how they can be modified, etcetera. Most of it is gibberish to me, but your people may know how to deal with it.”

She leans forward, trying to peer over the lip of my tablet from across the room. “I’m a scientist myself. Could I… maybe? Just a peek?”

I wave her over, and she comes to sit next to me as I point out the information we have.

“This… this is beyond what we’ve come up with so far.” Her voice is breathless as she looks to her husband. Daito is no longer annoyed. He’s, instead, overcome with some emotion, his eyes on the verge of tears.

“Really? They have it.”

She nods to him.

“Then all of our efforts have not been in vain.”

He glances at the guards at the door, and I have a moment of panic imagining them drawing their swords and cutting us down to get the information for free. But they nod and withdraw from the room.

“We would be happy to give you this information if it’s of value to you,” I say, trying to stop the catch in my voice. “Are you sure this is what you want? Buichi Tamura wanted our animal translation chip technology, and Narumi Ogawa was interested in particular DNA sequences we possess.” I’m vague on the purpose. I don’t want anyone to have access to the empress’s DNA. “And we have other technology as well. We came here to cooperate with you all.”

Daito finally relaxes. “We didn’t know what to think of you all. The major corporations here are only interested in profits and losses, business.” He glances at Miho. “We were hoping you’d be different.”

The tension in my chest relaxes. “Look, we’re strangers here. Aliens, if you will. But our society is built on a structure of families and mutual cooperation. Sure, it doesn’t always work out that way. We have our problems. But…” I trail off, not sure how to tell them I hate their society without sounding superior and snotty. But there’s always Gen Miyazawa at the back of my head. I think about him now and then, wondering how much he still hates me.

“I understand,” Miho says, touching my arm lightly. “It’s not the way we want things either. Perhaps tonight over dinner we can discuss our options?”

“I’d like that, but first, I’d like to finish this transaction so I can see Rin.” I look her straight in the eye, and she nods.

Kazuo reaches for my tablet. “Go, Yumi. Daito, if you have a tablet, I’m capable of sending this information to you.”

I follow Miho through the estate, my heart beating faster and faster with each corner we round. Eventually, she brings me through a kitchen and into a subterranean cellar.

“I promise he didn’t spend all of his time down here.”

I swallow as we approach a door at the end of the cellar. He’s been kept down here? I want to cry.

“In the beginning, he slept upstairs with everyone else. But we had a break-in from yakuza trying to steal him for themselves.” She sighs as she pauses in front of the door. “I’m sure he’ll explain everything. We often let him up to bathe in the hot springs or walk outside.”

I’m speechless as she waves her wrist over a panel on the door and it clicks open. Relief pours over me to see light and feel fresh air spill out. I take a deep breath as I swing the door wide and glare at Miho to leave. She turns and goes.

I hear him before I see him. The bedsheets rustle, and a book snaps shut.

“Hello?” he says, and my heart skips as I cross the threshold.

Oh my god.

I squint my eyes against the light and try to make sense of what’s in front of me.

He’s so… hairy.

I press my hand to my mouth as I walk in slowly and take in the room in my peripheral vision. It’s a nice place compared to the kitchen cellar I just came from, well-lit and clean. A bookshelf along the wall is loaded with real books, and I imagine it’s because they didn’t want to give him a tablet he could hack. A bathroom attached to the room is open and dark. I bet this place used to be for kitchen staff or a getaway from all the hubbub. It might have been an office at some point.

But Rin is at the center of my attention. I should’ve known the android Aoi Uma sent after me was fake. It was too accurate. It was his appearance as I last saw him. Of course, he would’ve changed for an undercover mission.

“Yumi,” he whispers before breaking into a grin, vaulting from the bed, and charging towards me. I lift my arms in time for him to wrap his arms around me and pick me up. I rest my cheek against his beard as he swings me around, and though my heart soars with joy, I have my doubts.

I don’t know who to trust anymore. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.

I am lost, and I’m not happy about it.

“Ha, ha! It’s you!” He squeezes me before setting me down, and I pull away to look at him.

He has hair everywhere. Hair on his head, hair on his face. I don’t think he’s shaved once since I last saw him. I didn’t even know he was capable of growing hair like this. The doubts in my head swell, suffocating reason with a choke hold.

“I’m not sure it’s you,” I say, cracking a small smile. “Who is this hairy man in front of me?”

He laughs, grabs my face and kisses me. I giggle when his lips meet mine, his beard tickling my face. I barely recognize this Rin, but his kiss feels familiar. It’s hungry, relieved, and sweet all at once. His arms wrap around me and his hand cradles the back of my head. It’s been too long since I’ve been kissed, and this one is powerful and sets my belly on fire.

And I finally believe it’s real.

“Mmm,” he says, pulling away. He smoothes out my hair, looking hard at it. “Is your hair brown?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?” I relax and rest my forearms on his hips.

He shakes his head, and his smile that always creased his cheek is still there. I reach up and trace the divot through his beard. His hair is surprisingly soft, a different feeling than I’m used to.

I don’t hate it.

“Ready to get out of here?” I ask, gesturing to the open door.

“Absolutely.” He reaches for my hand and tugs me along with him. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”