Nightfall on Mount Aoba (T +31) (Dec 2055)
I am Shizune of the Hakamichi clan, and I have a diary. It is a boring diary. But sometimes, I write in my journal instead. I think the diary is for day-to-day and the journal is about important stops in the timeline of my life. This is one such stop.
*****
I had long believed in the indestructibility of the man I had known as a repulsive teenager many years ago. Like a cockroach, I used to think, he would survive anything by creeping into his hellhole of a stinking room and waiting out the end of the world. Over time, he had become a friend.
Earlier in the year, an unlamented female cousin of mine had got herself blown up in an Edinburgh café. Unlamented, of course, because she had not in fact been blown up, although she had been blown down and bounced around a bit. The news footage showed her giving an interview. It failed to mention how she had survived the bombing.
For unforgiveable days, even months, I had presumed the worst had come to pass: the once-repulsive fellow had indeed got killed while saving my cousin’s life. I did not know what I should feel. Sometimes, we all have awkward relationships we cannot classify.
He was my friend, but we were not really close. He bought me cheesecake on my birthday—which Misha mostly ate. I bought him whisky, when I remembered he had a birthday. Mostly, he was Hisao Nakai’s weird hallway acquaintance from when we were in high school, and somehow, his son was Hisao’s godson. Why these things happen, I don’t know.
In my head, I always feel I don’t know enough. Often, it is true. Thus, I am hardly ever disappointed in myself. After I turned 60, I began to do a lot of things freely that I would not have done when I was younger. Before Christmas in 2055, I caught myself shedding a tear. Misha thought it was because of my cousin’s narrow escape from death, and then she laughed because I made a face. Of course, if my cousin had actually died, I would have been deeply unhappy. We had become friends in our old age.
Then Misha thought I was being sentimental because my brother’s two daughters would be home for Christmas. Kit, who was then 25, and Shiny, who was then 22, were interesting young ladies. I liked Kit a lot. Misha said it was because the elder sister was serious, and she somehow had taken a liking to me as well. I couldn’t disagree. Shiny, on the other hand, liked doing weird things. She enjoyed conspiring with Misha to put people in unusual situations. She rode a high-powered motorcycle under manual control, and wanted to be a vet.
But Misha never figured out that I was shedding tears for Kenji Setou. It was a terrible surprise to me as well. I was not used to losing anything, for anybody. I would beat this yet. Or so I thought.
*****
During the Christmas break, there is little for the principal of a high school to do. This has always been fine with me. I am almost always running ahead of my workflow at Yamaku. I spend most of the rest of my time working on tasks which are mine because I am, among many other things, the head of Clan Hakamichi, and thus responsible for entities such as Hakamichi Industries. Where I can, I delegate such tasks to my surprisingly effective brother and sister-in-law. I also have a number of reliable associates who can handle projects of large scope.
In my personal life, I am ashamed to say that I sometimes neglect other people’s needs. I made a deal with my best friend, Misha, with regard to that. She is supposed to remind me when I’m doing it, and to help me compensate for that. She’s very good at dealing with people, and so, for Christmas 2055, she was handling the impending arrival of my nieces, and dealing with our adopted children. They have always been happy to be with her. With me, not so much. I have learnt to live with that, as with so much else.
It was late on a December night that I received the high-density encrypted pulse. My sensorium quickly shuffled other dataflows out of the way. I was rather miffed. This was some stranger who had obtained my priority code. I prepared a robust response. The pulse elaborated itself. Damn, it had priority codes that were of an even higher level than mine.
[Shizune Hakamichi. ID REDACT. Metadata location assay package. Accept?]
[Of course. Condition: ID REVEAL.]
[Black Knight. ID CONFIRM. Sending.]
I had a fraction of a second to identify the sender. Why was Suzumiya Suzuki contacting me? We had little to do with each other.
Then a huge data stream hit. I was getting location data, video, audio, scans in several different sections of the EM spectrum. Even ultrasound. It was Kenji’s house in Saitama, or what used to be that. I was appalled at the completeness of the destruction. There was literally a hole in the ground.
[How is Yuuko?] It was all I could think of to say, imprinting my will upon the carrier waves.
[Not here. DNA majority trace is male Setou, unidentifiable.]
[Not surprising.] Kenji’s traces must still be dominant in that deserted place, I thought to myself. He had lived there for so long. As had his father before him.
Long pause. I began to wonder if the fault was in Suzu or in myself (or both).
[Shizune, the General was never here, and he is still alive. But security footage shows his son was here. He did not survive.]
Whoever is reading this private record, please try to understand what it was like for me to have received that message.
*****
As I recollect my thoughts, let me tell you about Akiko Nakai. She is my—that is to say, she is our, Misha’s and my—adopted daughter. When her parents left this earth, her surviving grandparent entrusted her and her brother to me. There is a long story behind that, but that is not part of this account.
Akiko is a natural athlete, and there is much that spurs her on towards high achievement. She has represented our country at the Olympics. Sadly, she has also spent most of her life disliking me, and some parts of it disliking my cousin Lilly, whom she blames for her parents’ death. This often led to irrational and unpleasant behaviour, but that had been under control for some years.
Largely, this measure of control had been brought about by the presence of a thoughtful young person in Akiko’s life. Koji was the son of the General, as his staff called him—Kenji Setou. This odd relationship drew Kenji and I even closer in our dealings. Koji was not like his father at all; he was a historian, a man of peace, a quiet and reasonable person. Akiko benefited a lot from that.
More than ten years ago, the affair of Koji’s aunt and the unrelated affair of Meiko Ibarazaki’s death had triggered great changes in the relationship between Koji and Akiko. On one fateful autumn evening, I communicated with Koji, while half a world away, his father spoke to Akiko.
I remember that evening well, like a sharp image even though it seems so far away. We were using a small table in a quiet room where Mutou-sensei used to meet former students such as I, when we returned to visit Yamaku. Now I was the principal of the school, and Koji one of my teaching staff. He looked very much a weary scholar, lean and tall, ill-at-ease, his long legs crossed and showing baggy woolen socks. I served the tea, then sat.
[Koji, how is it between Akiko and you?]
[Principal Hakamichi, Akiko and I, we are not destined to be together.]
I sighed. Very firmly, I signed: [She needs you. She has nobody else.]
[That is not how I see it. She has you, and she has—] he looked confused for a while here, then resumed [—Aunty Misha.]
I grinned sourly at him, showing my left upper canine. [She has always disliked me. She loves Misha like her own mother.]
[That is not entirely true. She respects you more than you think.]
[Well, she respects you more than –you– think.]
He looked melancholy. [I do not dare think that is true.]
[She only wants to know that there are anchors in a world of storms.]
He looked up at that. It was a quote from one of his own writings, carefully chosen. Like my late father, I’m not a person who has many clever words. A glimmer of life flashed in his eyes, and the hint of a smile showed at their edges.
[That is not something Akiko would say.]
[She would say it if she had your words. She has always loved your writing.]
[What can I do?] his fingers signed, halting, uncertain.
[There are many things you can do. We can help.]
And so it was that Koji and Akiko would meet at a place that their parents’ memories held dear. Their relationship would grow, and they would live together for more than a decade, before… this.
*****
[The General is alive?]
[Yes. We had to keep it a secret. Tokyo Central was leaking.]
[Who did it?]
There was a long pause. My anger flailed quietly, with nothing for it to strike.
[Chiaki Hasegawa.]
Chiaki? She was an alumna of Yamaku, like me. Also like me, she had been Student Council President. I remembered that her disability had been to do with her brain being wired wrong. Somehow, the national intelligence services had found that useful. Somehow, she’d become Kenji’s successor.
Why would she have blown up Kenji’s house?
[I don’t understand.] That kind of message was something I sent when I wanted the other person to say more. It was not always a request for more information. Sometimes, I just wanted the time to think.
[She used a pinhead device. Half-ton yield, focused detonation. Then she killed herself, to my consternation.]
I found myself repeating: [I don’t understand.] I really did not.
[We don’t understand everything either.]
[You don’t understand? Who is ‘we’?]
[Shizune, more important: the pinhead signature was Hakamichi.]
There was a sudden silence. The carrier wave was gone.
I closed my eyes, blinded by sudden wetness.
Two things: my friend—even though we were not that close—had left me feeling sad about his death, which turned out to be untrue and therefore a waste of feelings; my adopted daughter’s best friend had died instead, and I was fond of her even though she had no such liking for me. Worse, I had thought highly of young Koji, and appreciated our working relationship and his friendship with Akiko.
*****
I look at the words I have just written, and I shudder at how cold it all sounds. I know why. It’s because I am so sad that I cannot say how sad I am. It is one of my failings, and I have never known how to overcome it. I will close my journal now.
=====
Editor's note:
My sister-in-law's journal entry makes reference to events also mentioned in her cousin's account here and in other records of the time, such as this. She was not as bad a person as she thought she was. [H, Sendai, 2063.]
main arc
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