The Fate of Shin-Osaka – Chapter 21

I keep my head down and my eyes on the sidewalk as I approach the apartment building in Kadoma Ward. This will not be an easy task for me, but I’ll do it anyway. Because this is what Rin and Yumi need. My ego will just have to deal. I may be damned near indestructible but that doesn’t mean I can’t be empathetic. If anything, I need to be more compassionate. Yumi wasn’t great at it, either.

My backpack is heavy as I climb three flights to apartment 3B. I bypassed the lobby and elevators on my way in, avoiding any unnecessary contact with strangers. Aoi Uma has been running this ward for months with little in the way of consequences. People here shrugged their shoulders, cleaned up the messes, and returned to work, like any other valuable Hikari employee.

I wave my microchip over the door panel to announce my presence and wait.

Come on. I know you’re home.

“Who is it?” Kotashi’s voice echoes in the hall through the speaker in the door.

“Hi. I’m Kara, a friend of Rin’s. Can I come in to talk? He has something he wanted you to take care of.”

“Why didn’t he call me first?”

I hold back the anger rising in my chest, then sigh. It’s not Kotashi’s fault he’s wary.

“He’s in the hospital. Matsubara North.” I tap my foot on the floor to dissipate the nervous energy pouring through me. This is all starting to feel like a huge mistake. Maybe I can find someone else to do this task for me.

There has to be someone…

The door opens a crack, and Kotashi’s right eye appears. I press my lips together and wave. “Hi.” I pause, waiting for him to open the door. “Can you please let me in?” He hesitates, and I sigh. “Or I can leave and go back to tell Rin you wouldn’t see me. Your choice.”

He dips his eyes and opens the door all the way, standing to the side.

“Thanks.” I step in and remove my shoes. “Sorry about showing up unannounced. Things out there are getting a little dangerous.”

I pull off the backpack and carry it with me into the apartment. The living room is sparse. Kotashi and Gina don’t have much, but everything they do have is clean and orderly, a testament to their tireless work ethic. I set my backpack next to a worn, forest green couch, the fabric faded and frayed around the edges. The armrests have been patched at least once, and the cushions have permanent dips from overuse. Breakfast was not too long ago, and the air smells of eggs and smoked fish.

Gina isn’t home. She’s at work. But Kotashi still hasn’t taken on another job since we shut our Matsubara noodle shop down. They’re hurting for credits, and he’s not budging from the apartment most days.

“What happened to Rin?” he asks, his voice gruff.

I sit down even though he didn’t invite me to. The couch is soft and smells like someone else’s hair. “Smoke inhalation while he was on the job.”

Kotashi’s face pales. “Is he okay? Does he need anything?”

I soften at his kinder tone. “He’ll be all right. The doctors say he’ll be near one hundred percent after the next lung treatment. Right now, he’s sleeping and eating. Getting stronger. If you want to go see him, he’d love that.”

He nods. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

He sits in a chair opposite me and folds his arms tight over his chest. The morning light casts shadows across the living room, the sun winking off a metal sculpture on the coffee table.

“So, um, Rin has a job for you if you’re interested.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I will not sling noodles with an android anymore. I’ve had enough of their kind.” He swipes a hand out before tucking it back into his chest. “Just look at what Aoi Uma is doing. It’s sacrilege. It goes against all the gods.”

Well, I can’t argue with him there. Whatever problems we had with each other in the past, this is something we agree on. We’re both unhappy with the way androids have taken over.

I sit back and hold my breath. How many other people out there may feel the same as Kotashi? He didn’t say androids were too expensive or that they were taking jobs. He said they ‘go against the gods.’ Religion was something I had never considered before. Even though there are rituals, temples, and shrines on Hikari, the populace is not religious by most standards.

“Are you a religious man, Kotashi?”

This question startles him. His eyebrows fly up, and his arms relax. “No. Did I say I was religious?” The hostility is still there, but now he’s curious.

“Your statement, ‘It goes against all the gods,’ made me think you might be.”

“I…” He stops and hums for a moment. “I don’t know you well enough to talk of such private matters.”

Okay, new tactic. Talk only of Rin.

“Rin’s not a religious man. I’ve never seen him pray.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” He nods once. “Rin is an exemplary employee. He has faith in his corporation, and that’s how it should be.”

“Religion is only for the basics, right? Birth, marriage, sickness, and death.”

I witnessed a funeral procession when I was living with Rin in Kadoma Ward. I smile as I remember how he carried me on his shoulders so I could get a better angle to film it, then I earned credits for providing such great footage.

He relaxes back. “You could say that, yes. Those who choose to work for the temples and shrines live in poverty, on donations only. It’s a rough life. Few want to do it.”

I nod. “Corporations value profit over life.”

Back on Orihimé, religion, primarily Buddhism and Shintoism, is a common part of life. Some would call what we pray for and why to be ‘superstitious,’ but everything is rooted in the land and our connection to our planet and our origin planet, Earth. Living with the spirits gives us an organic link to the complete cycle of life. Even an object like a pair of chopsticks has a natural life cycle. They are not useful forever. They are imbued with the owner’s spirit. When their life is finished, we put them to rest like a cherished friend.

“That they do,” Kotashi says, gruffly agreeing with me.

“Do you think androids have a spirit?” I ask him, and he blinks a few times.

“You ask a lot of impertinent questions. I just met you.”

I smile, especially since I’ve known him for longer than he thinks. But perhaps this is going too far. I’m here on a different mission and should get along with it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. “I just found this conversation to be fascinating. I don’t think I’ve ever discussed religion with anyone here.”

“I’m not surprised by that at all. Where did you grow up?”

I make a choice. “Amagasaki. My parents were not religious either.” I imagine my fictitious parents being like all the other parents here on Hikari. “I only saw my mother pray once when our family dog died.” Taking a deep breath, I smile at him. “Anyway, I didn’t come here this morning to take up your time talking about such things.”

I lean over and unzip my backpack. Kotashi leans forward to see what’s inside.

“Rin would like for you to care for this,” I say, pulling the container from the bag. It’s a metal and composite vessel about fifteen centimeters long and ten centimeters wide. The power pack is on one end with a small display, showing the inside is holding steady at negative 196 degrees Celsius. I don’t know how it works, though I could download the specs for the device and figure it out. I only care that it’s working.

“What is that?” Kotashi’s head tilts to the side like Ninjin used to when I asked him a question.

“It’s a cryo-freeze unit meant to store human tissue. According to the technician who gave it to me, it should continue to work indefinitely as long as you charge the battery pack once per week.”

“What kind of human tissue?”

“Eggs.” I sigh as I turn the device over and over. “I know you didn’t care for my cousin, Yumi.” This makes him sit back. “But she was Rin’s world, the love of his life. And it was, is, his wish to raise her babies someday. It’s what they both want.”

I hold the container out to him. He doesn’t take it.

“She brought nothing but pain and suffering to Rin.”

“I know you think that, that you believe it. But nothing could be further from the truth. He still loves her, even after she’s gone.” I hold out the container again. “Kazenoho Corporation will compensate you for your time and goodwill. If you like, we can pay you outside of a contract.”

For a moment, I believe this is a mistake, that he won’t take it, listen to reason. But after a brief hesitation, he reaches out for the device. He hefts it in his hand before setting it in his lap.

“Thank you. I’m sure Rin appreciates you’ll be doing your best to care for this special package.” I move to stand up, but instead, I stop and sit again. “If anyone has caused pain and suffering, it’s Aoi Uma. They are the ones that forced Rin and Yumi into their situation. Your anger is misplaced. I hope you can see that.”

He raises his chin and looks me in the eye. “You should go now. When can I expect my first payment?”

I drop my eyes and curse myself. He will never accept Yumi and Rin’s relationship. The only way out for Rin is to leave the Hikoboshi System. But now that it’ll be years before our people come for us, I doubt he’ll ever find peace.

A selfless part of me wants to take the container and drop it down the nearest garbage chute. This is what will come between Rin and his old life here. It’s a poison that’ll slowly tear him from everything he has left.

But then the selfish part of me remembers that this is what he wants. It’s what we want. We want the chance to start over, to start a family and a new life. This container holds our future. Getting rid of it would cement Rin in the past.

“It’s already in your account. You’ll be sent a weekly reminder to set the container on a charge spot.” This time I’m halfway to the door before I turn around. “It’ll check in with the local network nodes periodically, so we’ll know if it’s been moved or tampered with.”

Kotashi’s body stiffens from head to toe.

“If Aoi Uma ever threatens your neighborhood, you must take the container with you and keep it safe.” I bow to him. “Thank you for taking on this important job. I will have Rin contact you when he is released from the hospital.”

Taking two long strides to the door, I slip my shoes on and leave the apartment before Kotashi can say anything else. He has the device and hasn’t refused it, so there’s nothing more to be done. Besides the suicide bomber at the hospital, Kadoma Ward has been peaceful for months, and I don’t suspect he will have any issues. This was the best insurance I could buy.

On my way down the stairs, though, his words echo in my head.

Sacrilege — that’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. Indeed, it’s not a word I’ve heard at all on this world. And something tells me this is what’s been missing.

I’ve heard the saying, “Religion is the opiate of the masses,” and an opiate is never more needed than it is now. We’re in the middle of a war. Who doesn’t want to send themselves into oblivion?

I bounce down the last two stairs.

This will take some maneuvering, but I think it’ll be worth it. Yes, yes. A new belief. A deity for people to place their faith in.

Yes, it’ll definitely be worth it.