[FIC] The Rose (part 1)

[dd]

A story in honor of Valentine's Day


It was a chill morning. A frigid wind proved tentative, blowing with biting force one moment, only to die down a few minutes later. Leaves swirled about here and there. Passerbys hugged their coats tightly against themselves, trying to conserve warmth. The clouds were low and pregnant looking---they promised rain. Hopefully the crowds would be small at his destination.

Sousuke’s mission was an very important one. There was no back-up. There would be no communications. The price for failure would be steep---very steep.

February 14. St. Valentine’s Day. Usually, in Japan, only the women would present gifts. Men were expected to reciprocate on March 14, ”White Day”. But, Kaname had spent a fair amount of time in the United States. She preferred that nation’s incarnation of the lovers’ holiday. That meant that Sousuke would prefer her view, if he knew what was good for him.

He had already bought a number of boxes of sweets---Belgian truffles, Marzipan, and Kaname’s favorite candied fruit slices. The bounty was safely hidden in his room. Kaname had not discovered the hiding place---if she had, the trap would have been sprung, and she would be wearing red paint for a day or three. Likewise, since the flash-bangs were still intact, she had not gone looking for the small and simple necklace he had picked out with Kyouko’s and Ren’s help.

That left the flowers. Kaname loved roses. Long stem red roses. Large bunches of them.

A brief sprinkling of rain blew against Sousuke’s face. He shook his head. At least he didn’t have any classes today. Kaname did, and that was also in his favor. While it was never put into writing, the professors at the University preferred that the two of them did not take the same course at the same time. The damage had been minimal first and second semester, in relative terms. No one had been killed. No buildings would need to be condemned. The student health services had been able to handle the resultant minor injuries and panic attacks. He had not been in to visit with anyone in the Mithril Finance Division lately, however. Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin had said that he could not guarantee Sousuke’s safety. It had probably been a joke. Probably.

He would have ridden his bicycle, but that would be impractical with a large long box of flowers. He would take a taxi on the way back, glad that Kaname would not be there to use her favorite method of signaling a cab. For now, he would walk, stretching out his muscles, and enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. He felt the weight of his weapons in his overcoat pockets, a small hindrance on his stroll. He had considered leaving them behind, as Kaname was not with him. But, he had been in a hurry.

Finally, he reached his destination. The flowers in this store were top notch. Because he had rescued the young ladies who worked there from a robber once, he received a large discount when he shopped. But, since the store had required significant renovations, the owner went into the back to lay down whenever Sousuke walked in.

“Mr. Sagara, so nice to see you again. I am certain that Mr. Kasiwara would have been honored to greet you, but he just now had a phone call from his sick mother. How may we help you?” The young women competed to see who could stand at the counter in front of heir erstwhile savior. They had still not gotten over their crushes.

“May I have a dozen long stem red roses, please. Wrapped with fern and Baby’s Breath.”

“Oh, I’m so very sorry. But we are out of red roses. Would you be interested in white, pink, or yellow? Other cut blossoms?” One young woman looked saddened. The other had gone into the back room.

“No, red is a necessity. I hope that you have a fine day today. Perhaps I will be more fortunate next time.”

As Sousuke turned to leave, the other young lady came running, carrying an open can of paint. “Wait. Oh, please wait! If you like, I could paint the white roses red for you…” In her great hurry, she missed sight of a large fold in the carpet. Catching her foot, she fell, flinging the paint can upward. Paint spilled as the container tumbled.

Sousuke’s reactions were swift, the sign of a true professional. He avoided most of the paint. Most. A long streak of red ran from the middle of his pressed grey shirt down to the belt loops of his favorite European style slacks. This was Kaname’s favorite outfit on him. The day was not starting off the way he had hoped!

“Oh. Mr. Sagara. I am so sorry!” The clumsy young woman began bowing repeatedly, backing away from Sousuke. Not looking where she was going, she was headed for a tall free-standing shelf displaying aristic arrangements of cacti and succulents, including a good number of grafted plants with red tops. It’s apropos. Red is the color of danger.

“Wait, Miss, behind you.” Sousuke moved to stop the store worker. He was too late. The shelfing unit split in two, spilling a spike-rich avalanche of plants down upon the well-intentioned young soldier. Dirt covered his head and shoulder, the potting loam emitting a strong earthy odor. Needles and spines stuck out of his exposed forearms, making him look like he had porcupine blood somewhere in his family tree. This is uncomfortable, to say the least.

The young woman was mortified. Her co-worker did her best to conceal her amusement. She knew who the young man’s favorite must be now. Sousuke assured both that he was OK. They offered to run out to a rival flower shop and buy the roses for him, but he told them it was unnecessary. He must respect the safety of that shop. These girls were dangerous.

The soil brushed off and the needles extracted, Sousuke continued on his journey undaunted. He ignored the curious looks he received from onlookers. He had wasted enough time. He wanted to purchase the roses and make it back to Kaname’s apartment just before she got out of her last class. There was still time.

Sousuke’s luck changed for the better. He avoided the water that fell from a window washer’s rig. The growling dog chose someone else’s pants to savage. The woman who was too intent at staring was the one who fell down the open man hole.

There was a commotion. Shouting. The sound of loud laughter. Small metallic wheels turning. Sousuke turned quickly. A group of truant teenagers, with punked out hair and neon clothes, rode quickly down the sidewalk, shooting the pedestrians and cars with paintball pistols.

This is WAY too dangerous! Sousuke thought. Best I put a stop to this immediately.

Sousuke took up position behind a tree. There was no way he was going to get into any more mishaps today. Whipping out his pistol in a smooth practiced motion, he placed shots with metronomic timing. Bang! The front wheel was shot off of the first speeding board. Bang! Another board, another wheel gone. Bang! Bang! Bang! A third board cracked in half down the middle. Bang bang! A small tree limb fell from a sturdy maple, tripping up another boarder and sending him airborne.

Not a single paintball was fired in Sousuke’s direction.

All Hell broke loose in rapid succesion. The first board scooted on its own into traffic, catching an elderly woman by surprise. Reaching frantically for the brake pedal, she stomped on the accelerator by mistake. Fortunately, after passing through the bistro window, the vehicle stopped before it ran down the first table of startled diners. The first punk bowled over a young boy carrying a rather agitated young cat.

The second board rolled harmlessly down the street. Its rider windmilled his arms trying to regain his balance. He stepped on the fleeing cat and stumbled into traffic, his eyes growing unbelievably large when he saw a large truck bearing down on him. The vehicle’s driver hit the brakes hard, bringing the truck to an emergency stop. The car behind him was not so fortunate, plowing into the rear of the cargo hauler. The impact snapped a number of restraining wires, allowing the truck’s cargo to fall free. Three portable toilets slid off the back of the transport pallet, spilling their contents on the car and the surrounding street. The cat, splashed, was none too happy.

The third punk’s momentum took him running forward. He ran hard into the tree Sousuke was using as a shield. Bent over and breathing hard, he noticed Sousuke’s fancy loafers. He hated fancy loafers. Smiling, he took a can of spray paint out of his backpack. One pair of psychedelic shoes coming up, Mr. Big Man On Campus College Boy Jerk!!! Before he knew it, he was flung streetward, landing in a spreading puddle of raw sewage. A cat hissed and scratched him across the cheek. The last remaining Port-a-Pot, teetering on the edge for all this time, finally lost its battle and fell, clobbering the stunned miscreant.

The fourth troublemaker landed on a small wheeled dumpster, just about to be loaded onto a waiting garbage truck. The container rolled down the sidewalk, picking up speed with every passing moment. It ran out into the street, causing car after car to weave, honk its horn, or slam on its brakes. Cars rear-ended each other. A motorcyclist was launced skyward after running up a broken bench on the sidewalk---he bounced off the roof of a city councilman’s limo before coming to rest in the arms of a famous city statue. A bus knocked down the fancy iron gate of an upscale Apartment building. A young girl let go of her balloon. Excited, two pidgeons took to the wing, leaving a sloppy calling card on the head of a man walking his dog. The dog caught sight of the streaking cat and pulled himself free.

Their parents should be reprimanded severely Sousuke thought. All that trouble because of inappropriate behavior. They really should be in school.

Glad to have escaped unsullied, Sousuke continued his walk down the sidewalk. Walking towards him, the pizza delivery man carried too many boxes to see the danger in front of him. Sighing with relief at the sight of his destination, a small privately run business, he counted his blessings at being able to carry the ten boxes as far as he had, without having both arms break off at the shoulders. Putting his wait on the second skateboard, he slipped backward, launching his boxes. Pizza and toppings rained down from the sky.

Again, Sousuke’s reactions were marvelous, resembling something out of the much-copied Matrix. No one else could have avoided looking like a walking commercial for Pizza Hut. Still, two sloppy slices came crashing down on his shirt, continuing the damage started at the flower shop.

If Kaname were here, she’d probably blame ME for all that happened! And, she’d dress me down for getting my shirt messy. Looks like I’m going to have to stop at my place and change when I‘m done. Better hurry.

Sousuke took off at a brisk jog. To his good fortune, he was gone when the police arrived. No one had taken good notice of him. Authorities were soon looking for the cat.

************************************************************

The walk to the next florist went without any further untoward circumstances. The bell rang cheerfully as Sousuke walked into the ornately decorated establishment. He had ducked into the restroom at a convenience store to clean himself up as much as possible, but he still looked somewhat stained and disheveled. The anteroom was crowded. A number of people looked at Sousuke and snickered. A couple of older women stepped back in concern.

“I’m sorry, but we do not allow vagrants in here, young man. If you are looking for handouts, please do so away from this shop.” The woman behind the counter picked up a telephone, in case the scarred young man put up any kind of resistance to her request. “WE do not sell alcohol, if that is what you are looking for. This is a florist. We sell flowers.”

“Madame?” Sousuke was puzzled. He often looked worse than this after most missions. Or when he forgot to get Kaname flowers. No matter. “I am quite aware that this is a florist. It is why I walked all of the way here, to purchase a dozen long-stemmed red roses. Unfortunately, I have run into a string of bad luck---doused with paint, covered with potting soil, nearly caught in the middle of an accident, and pelted with pizza.”

“You’re not here to cause trouble?”

“Furthest thing from it, Madame. I’ll be in trouble if I don’t get the flowers!”

The woman stared at Sousuke a moment longer and decided to take him at his word. She sent one of her assistants into the refrigerated room to collect the roses. “So, these are for your young lady, I take it? She has high expectations of you on Valentine’s Day?”

“She has high expectations every day!” Sousuke made an attempt at a smile. He was working on that. “Some days, it proves very wise to live up to those expectations.” Sousuke grimaced when the woman pulled out a few of the cactus spikes still caught in his left arm. “Ever try and kiss a porcupine?” The woman’s action suggested a rather pointed analogy.

“Can’t say that I have…” The woman smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. There had been times when she had suddenly grown a coat of quills.

“I do not recommend it.” Sousuke looked over at the returning assistant, her hands empty. That was probably bad news, unless someone else in the back room was wrapping up roses. The woman whispered into the ear of the woman behind the counter.

“I’m afraid that I must add to your list of woes, young man. We are out of red roses, and don’t expect a shipment for two days. I am truly sorry. I hope you manage to reach your next stop safely.” She gave Sousuke the name of another flower shop further down the avenue.

Before Sousuke could put his hand on the door knob, the door pulled open quickly. A large man dressed in denim pants and a tattered martial arts robe pushed past the younger man. He walked quickly towards the young woman who had checked on the flowers for Sousuke. “Yui. I Knew I’d find you here. I told you if you didn’t come back by today, you should keep on running! Let’s go.” Without warning, he slapped the girl, then grabbed her roughly by the arm.

The woman behind the counter slowly reached for the phone. The angry man took notice and produced a sai out of his robes. “This is none of your business. Do you want to make it your business?” The crazed look in his eyes froze her.

The violent man looked around the room. “Anyone here want to get in my way? It’s a good place to do it, if you have any stupid ideas. They can pick out the flowers for your funeral while you’re laying on the floor.” No one made a sound. No one moved. Except for Sousuke.

“Do you wish to make a phone call, Madame?” Sousuke made eye contact, nodding. “I assure that the man will not bother you while you do so.” Sousuke turned to the frightened young assistant. “It is not my intention to get caught up in your personal squabbles, Miss. But, I will say that the statistics regarding women and abusive partners is very unfavorable.”

“There’s always one in the crowd.” The man took a tonfa out from under his robe. “Before long, there is always one less. I think I will do you left-handed. It won’t be much of a challenge if I do you right-handed. Best I be quick about it.” Smiling, the man struck swiftly, lashing out with the tonfa. Missing a dodging Sousuke, the club went on to knock a large wooden panel loose from the door. “Let’s do this sportsmanlike. You stand still, so I can beat the living crap out of you without working up too much of a sweat.”

“Sir, might I suggest we step outside. The people in here have done nothing to you. You seem to have a grievance against me, not the shop.” Sousuke opened the broken door. The man ignored him for the moment.

“Says who? They let her work here. That’s enough for me!” The man pushed his ex-girlfriend hard against a glass case, fracturing the window. He made a kissing face at a quivering old woman, causing her to collapse to the floor in fear. Picking up a vase, he cocked his arm back, intending to throw it at the woman calling the police. Sousuke grabbed his wrist.

“I must apologize, Madame. I do not wish to cause any further destruction of your fine shop.” Sousuke was very skilled, but the man was too strong and too heavy to immobilize effectively. Things were going to escalate rapidly. If he were willing to kill the man, things could be resolved in a short time, with little collateral damage. “But, if I stand by idly, who can say what might happen next.”

The angry man proved he was by no means a slouch at the martial arts. Executing sutemi waza, a sacrifice technique, he used Sousuke’s momentum to his own benefit. Attempting to inact o surama, he began to pull his opponent into a wheel throw around his waist. He would attempt to break Sousuke’s neck with the tonfa when he hit the floor.

Thrown off his feet, Sousuke struck a dapper gentleman, knocking him into the other room, not seeing him land in a large pile of cut flower stems. The crashing sound of a nearby table full of vases was punctuated by the tinkle of breaking glass.

Sousuke caught the descending stick in his two hands, flexing his wrist to disarm the larger man. Coffee trickled off of his hair and sleeve, courtesy of the cup the well-dressed man had dropped.

“Oh ho, the little dog has teeth. This might be interesting after all. Might.” Before he had finished talking, the man upended a large display of gifts and flower arrangements, sending a heavy wooden table towards Sousuke, intending to pin him against the far wall.

Timing things well, Sousuke swung up and vaulted over the table, using the ”Tiger’s Mouth” fist to ram the knuckle of his first finger hard between his opponent’s eyes. The crazed assailant stumbled backward, cutting his arm badly as he crashed partway through a fancy stained glass window.

“You die, NOW!!!” The angry man shouted, blood tracking down his arm. He took a wicked hook knife out of his robe. Bunching his shoulders, he signaled his intention to charge.

“That is incorrect.” Sousuke took up his pistol in two hands. He shot the knife from the man’s hand. Flipping through the air, the knife embedded itself in the polished countertop.

The tip of one finger missing, the violent man grasped one hand in the other, grimacing in pain. There was something new in his eyes, and it was growing in intensity. Fear. He got down on his knees, intending to plead for his life. No words came out when he opened his mouth. Sousuke had time to reach for his taser and put it to good use.

“Madame, were you able to reach the police?”

The stunned woman nodded her head.

“Good. They should be here shortly. This gentleman should be out until them.” Sousuke paused briefly, noting with slight disdain that his shirt was torn. “If you wish to ensure even greater safety, I suggest that you bind his arms and legs with that strong twine you have over there. Running a line from around his backwardly flexed legs to his neck might prove effective. You might wish to wrap his finger, so the blood does not stain your nice floor.”

The woman nodded her head again, unable to speak.

“My apologies for reacting defensively. I did not wish to kill the man. It no doubt prolonged the damage occurring to your shop. It is certainly a burden to be civilized. But, there are benefits to being domesticated. Or, so I've been told....” With that, Sousuke left the shop and headed on his way.

************************************************************

The walk to the third shop was uneventful. Unless someone were to consider a confrontation with a bunch of drunken yakuza noteworthy. Sousuke did not. Gangs were becoming rather passe. The third shop was out of red roses too. The young Mithril sergeant, still seeking his fragrant Holy Grail, left that shop unharmed---he and the shop, both.

Finally, just as the clouds grew tired of waiting and released stinging torrents of rain, fate smiled on Sousuke. Water pouring out of his pants leg, he walked into the fourth shop, a small but quaint room tucked in behind an adult book store and a steam Laundromat. His loafers squeaking, he approached the counter with some trepidation. Not only did he have to deal with the rain, but he also was running out of time. “Sir, would you perchance have any long-stem red roses?”

The man looked at Sousuke and smiled. “She must really mean something to you young man, coming out in a deluge like this. I wish I could reward dedication like that, but I just sold my last dozen a couple of minutes ago---just before the clouds opened up. I don’t wish to dampen your spirit further---but, had you considered asking to have the flowers delivered?”

Sousuke hung his head. He felt as if he had been hit across the back of the head with a lead pipe. Delivery. Why hadn’t he thought about that? Probably because it brought him personal satisfaction to do things in person. But, he could have visited a lot of shops by phone, instead of the four he had tried unsuccessfully. “Yes, Sir. But I hadn’t thought that I’d run into any difficulty. Once I got caught up in the search….”

“Hey, Matoko you old cheapskate, have any need for more roses?” A man in a full length rain coat entered the shop. A flower delivery truck sat at the curb, blinkers flashing. “I have a couple dozen left over from the shops up town. They’re not moving much stuff today.”

The shop owner chuckled. “It’s a shame you asked me first, Hideki. I’ll take what you have, at the usual price. But, if you had asked this young gamecock first, I bet he would have given you every penny he had.” The initial transaction accomplished, the shopkeeper sold a dozen long stem roses to Sousuke. “I have some sturdy plastic in the back. I ought to be able to make something that will keep the rain off the flowers.” True to his word, he returned ten minutes later with a box of flowers wrapped in clear clinging plastic.

Sousuke smiled. All it took was perseverance. That, and a stout heart. Things were looking up!!! Somewhat. The store owner called the taxi service for him, but the dispatcher reported that no cabs were available---most had been caught up in a traffic jam caused by some skater punks.

Bracing himself, he headed back out into the rain. He clutched the roses as if he were carrying the most valuable cargo in the world. Or, the most dangerous.


************************************************************

It had been a while since Sousuke had seen sideways rain. The wind tugged strongly at the large plastic wrapped box he carried, but Sousuke tugged back stronger still. His shoes were filled with water. The trickle of rain down his neck and back no longer registered. If he had to swim home, he would gladly swim. He had what he wanted. He had what he needed. What was it that pilots often said? Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing. He could appreciate that sentiment. He couldn’t wait to get his wheels on the ground.

Still, there was a good bit of walking left. And, a good bit of weather. The rain might not have been an impediment, but the new onset of lightning was. Sousuke felt somewhat uneasy when the first thunderclap rang out, shaking the loose windows of a nearby café. Glowing bolts of electricity snaked their way to the ground just beyond a distant row of buildings. Their intense light left an afterimage in Sousuke’s vision. More thunder rolled across the sodden city blocks.

A few blocks further along his way, Sousuke heard a loud noise that was not thunder. A frightening impact following the sound of automobile horns. Approaching the next intersection, he noted that the stoplights were dark, no doubt related to the electrical storm. Someone had approached the crossing without the caution such a situation required. As a result, a tangled mass of metal marked the spot where two cars collided, soon to be joined by three others. Gasoline ran down the water filled street, forming a rainbow-colored coating on the fast moving gutter streams. One horn called out with a non-stop plaintive cry, its mechanism jammed. A wheel cover spun down the road, buffeted by gust of wind and rain. An arm hung limply out of a shattered side window. An engine began to smolder, broken fuel pump spraying petrol on hot metal.

There was no time to call for emergency assistance. Sousuke moved quickly to offer assistance. He placed his box of flowers on a city bench and ran to the most heavily damaged vehicle. The next minutes were a blur to him, as he checked pulses, carefully removed bodies from cars in danger of catching fire, applied first aid, and helped direct traffic around the deadly accident. His day’s adventures suddenly felt insignificant. He would be happy just finding Kaname alive when he made it to her apartment. Of course, he would be happier---and she would be happier---if he made it there with the roses.

Ambulances and firetrucks arrived with the flashing of lights, the din of sirens, and the great honking of air horns. One rescue vehicle had been driving too fast, unable to stop in time when a Good Samaitan stumbled into its path. Veering, the small truck missed the concerned citizen and demolished a row of benches. His clothes covered with other peoples’ blood and other body fluids, Sousuke walked over to the damaged benches. The flower box was buried under a pile of wood, metal, and extruded plastics. Removing the rubble, he found the box was somewhat tattered and torn, but generally intact. The plastic was very much worse for wear. A couple of crooked and broken stems stuck out through the punctured covering. Taking temporary shelter under a large tree, Sousuke carefully examined the box and its contents. Three flowers were completely ruined. The other nine were in decent condition.

Sloshing through the water once more, Sousuke kept repeating any landing you can walk away from……any landing you can walk away from……


************************************************************

Leaves slapped him in the face as he walked. If anything, the wind had gotten stronger. Lightning flashed down, closer and closer. A number of garbage cans rolled by him. Bits of refuse floated swiftly down the rushing currents of water on the street.

It wasn’t a dreary or nasty day for everyone. Children ran about happily, with and without umbrellas, their parents keeping an uneasy eye on the progress of the lightning. There was all manner of jumping and splashing about. Paper boats sailed on to watery oblivion.

A ball rolled out into the street.

A small boy followed.

Sousuke watched, as if seeing things in slow motion.

Great wings of water were kicked up by a speeding sedan, the drivers vision terribly obscured despite the hyperactive efforts of the windshield wipers.

Looking up, the boy saw his doom rushing in upon him. He was too young to know what death meant.

A frightened parent screamed. A number of adults jumped to their feet, too far away to make any difference.

Dropping his box, Sousuke dove for the by, grabbing him by one small ankle. With Herculean effort, he tugged the boy out of harms way. The boy was scraped, scared, and bawling---but, he was obviously alive.

After receiving the thanks and admiration of the small crowd, Sousuke started back on his way. The flowers! Turning, she saw the disintergrating package floating swiftly towards a large overworked storm gutter, the froth of water at its mouth looking like the passageway to Hell.

Had Sousuke been a sprinter on the track team, he might have been able to explain the burst of speed he put on then. Sliding on his belly, kicking up a large wake as if he were a rushing speedboat, he managed to grab the edge of the box with his fingertips. It fell apart. The flowers floated individually towards the gaping maw.

He wasn’t sure exactly what happened. Somehow, Sousuke managed to snag six of the flowers, relieved to see that they were wet, but intact. One by one, the others disappeared from view, their stems sticking up like the stern of the Titanic as they went down.

Sousuke began to give serious thought to the concept of kharma.

************************************************************


His skin showing through the large rips on his shirt, Sousuke probed his ribs. Maybe a fracture or two. Unlikely, but possible. No obvious breaks. A pulled intercostal muscle or two. A few nasty abrasions. Nothing too drastic. The little boy was safe. That was what counted.

Taking brief respite under an awning, Sousuke thought about the day’s events. He was usually not one to offer excuses. Even if he were, who would believe what he had been through so far? In any case, the ordeal was almost over---he was less than fifteen minutes walk from his apartment. What more could possibly happen? For some reason, he thought of the Ancient Mariner. What harm could come from shooting an albatross? It took a strong act of will to start walking again.

Fate is a funny thing. Fate, and coincidence. Before Sousuke had any idea of what was going on, Sousuke could see the constantly moving red and blue lights dancing on the windows of the houses and building a couple of blocks down the street. There was no doubt what that meant. Police. Out in large numbers.

There were two general options. Continue back the way he came, passing by the site of whatever activity lay ahead. Or, take a number of side streets and alleyways, bypassing the area of involvement. It was a good time for adages. Sousuke chose to go with one: the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Yes, any bullet could tell him that. He would have done better to go with another saying: Curiosity killed the cat. He DID want to know what was going on. Looking at the bedraggled flowers, he hoped he wouldn’t somehow get involved.

From the distance, Sousuke could hear voices over a megaphone. He could not make out what was being said. Passing by police cruisers parked at the fringe of the coalescence of cars, trucks, and vans, he could make out some of the messages coming through on the activated radio units.

It appeared that some criminal groups were much like the boy scouts: eternally prepared.

The loss of electricity---and the resultant loss in alarms---had proven a major temptation for one such gaggle of professionals. Telephone lines were out, too. Another temptation too strong to resist. Conjecture was that the group had a police scanner and was well aware of the accident caused by the power outage; the disturbance with the yakusa; a violent domestic episode at a flower shop; and a snarl-up in traffic caused by a group of street punks. Much of the police force had been tied up.

The opportunistic gang of thieves had struck simultaneously at a bank and adjacent jewelry store. By bad fortune, they had been trapped within both locations when a group of patrolmen had stopped to grab a number of doughnuts and cups of coffees from a shop on the same avenue. A nasty hostage situation quickly ensued. Security guards had been shot and were in likely critical condition. A brief gunfight had left wounded officers pinned down in the street. Plastic explosives earmarked for the bank vault had been worked into a makeshift weapon, blowing the wheel off of the only armored response vehicle in that area of the city.

One of the new miniature Arm Slaves was on the scene, dropped off by a foolhardy but brave helicopter pilot. The only certified police A.S. pilots were caught up in traffic.

The criminals had called out with additional news. A pregnant woman had gone into early labor. An elderly man was down, sweating heavily, clutching his chest. A child had accidently wandered into the line of fire. He was losing a lot of blood. A cat had run into the jewelry store. It was stuck in a small strongbox, only its tail still showing.

Sousuke walked on. He held on to the earliest growth of a new idea, looking for the fruit of his plan. Men and women in Kevlar jackets ran about. A line of patrolmen was forming, short stubby tear gas guns in hand. Snipers were taking up position. It looked as if someone had decided to get this thing over quickly. One way or another.

By the look of it, the evildoers had no chance at escape.

Likewise, things looked grim for the hostages.

Someone was looking to play a bastardized game of Pick Up Sticks. Throw everything out, then see what could be picked up in one grabbing fist. The sticks that were left behind? Their fate was sealed.

That was not the way that Jackstraws was meant to be played. The game could trace its roots back to Native Americans, who played it with straws of wheat. Each stick was decorated differently than the others. After the pile was tossed, one stick at a time was supposed to be taken out, without disturbing any of the others. This impending police action would disturb a lot of sticks.

Sousuke could not help but think of a Biblical reference, ‘the casting of lots.’ Drawing of straws. Jonah had been selected by the lots. He had ended up in the belly of a great whale. If Sousuke’s plan panned out, he would end up inside a much different kind of ‘beast.’

The casting of lots could be ‘fixed,’ just the way dice and other games of chance could be today. He intended to ‘fix’ things on the side of the hostages.

He walked through an ever growing mass of spectators and journalists. He looked in staging areas…in out of the way areas at the rear of the operation…he hunted high and low. Finally, he found just what he was looking for. It was left alone, currently useless. A small number of children looked at it, wondering if they should laugh or be afraid. A few old men, finished discussing their recollections of battle, offered disparaging remarks. In THEIR day, they would have run in carrying a couple of rifles---with bayonets, of course---and run down the whole lot of those dirty bastards.

There was no police guard visible. There was no need. It was impervious to minor attacks, and the hatch was closed. Punching a number into a small keypad, Sousuke rectified that situation. A long hiss of compressed air escaped as the front to the grey Bonta-Kun A.S. slowly opened. He climbed in, first making certain that no cameramen were in view.

IS THAT YOU, DAVE??? a detached mechanical voice issued forth from unseen speakers,

“Negative. Begin self-diagnostics, Bonta-Kun.” Lights flashed on and off on the control panel. A restraining harnass was unlocked, allowing Sousuke to secure himself in the pilot’s chair.

SELF-DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETED. NO PROBLEMS IDENTIFIED. PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD

Sousuke entered the master code. It would suffice, unless the manufacturers had corrupted the original programming.

OPERATING SYSTEMS INITIALIZING. PLEASE ENTER NAME AND RANK. LOWER CASE LETTERS WILL SUFFICE.

s…..o…..u…..s…..u…..k…..e…..s…..a…..g…..a…..r…..a was typed in promptly. No rank was necessary.

WELCOME. YOU ARE THE CREATOR. YOU ARE THE SAGARA. BK-M5 ACTIVE AND READY FOR START-UP.

“Begin start-up procedure.”

START-UP COMMENCING. PLEASE AWAIT PROMPTS TO ENTER MOVEMENT TOLERANCE PREFERNCES AND FORCE PARAMETERS. SELECT COMBAT INTENSITY LEVEL.

Sousuke typed in the selections appropriate to this situation.

VALUES ACCEPTED. URBAN COMBAT PACKAGE DOWNLOADED. START-UP COMPLETE. INITIALIZING SYSTEMS CHECK. ALL VECTRONICS ARE ACTIVE. ALL ACTUATORS ARE GO. FINAL CHECK PROCEEDING. GREEN LIGHT. GREEN LIGHT. GREEN LIGHT. ALL SYSTEMS ARE READY, CREATOR. THE ENEMY MUST BE STERILIZED.

“Agreed, A.I. Configure for Safety Mode A. Destructive Level 6 for any person holding a scannable weapon. Automatic fire of area suppression devices disengaged. Avoidance Level 10, for any unarmed persons. Manual override in all circumstances.”

WORKING. PARAMETERS SET, CREATOR.

“Very good. Let us begin.”

Sousuke toggled the zoom function on the optical scanners. He looked at a forlorn group of roses laying on the ground. No. I will NOT leave them unattended again he thought. One hand should be all that is needed for combat.

Very carefully, the Bonta-Kun A.S. was maneuvered to pick up the six remaining flowers.

************************************************************


The external microphones on the A.S. picked up the conversations of cameramen as it ran by them.

”In the name of God, what IS that thing? A giant rat? It’s sure as shit too ugly to be a mouse!”

”No, it’s a monkey bear…pig. I think. Was it holding...FLOWERS???”

”What the Hell are you two degenerates talking about? Have you been drinking on assignment, AGAIN? If so, why you been holding out?“

A loud series of cheers broke out as the Bonta-Kun passed by well-ordered lines of law enforcement officers.

”Go get’em!”

”All RIGHT!!! Looks like one of those guys made it here after all.”

”Yeehaw. Time for the good guys to kick some ass!!!”

Two missiles jumped out of a metal backpack on the BK-M5, roaring to life. Streaking along the storefront area, the two guided projectiles dropped a series of fast-acting smoke grenades. Soon, a seething cloud of smoke totally obscured the stores. The large rat-monkey-bear-pig disappeared from view.

“SHIT!!! Looks like we have to use our imaginations from here on in” a disgruntled newsman spat, lowering his large shoulder-carried camera.

”I thought we already had been!!!” his companion quipped.

Sousuke paid no attention to that kind of drivel. He was trying to pick out any converstaion between hostage takers. So far, all he had heard was exclamations of surprise, anger, and fear. That, and a large amount of cursing. There had been no verbal threats to the captives yet.

It was time to see what this powered suit could do in the hands of a master.


************************************************************

Sosuke watched the digital readout on the BK-M5’s master panel. It showed the time. Ticking away. Tick…..tick…..tick…..

He had too move quickly. There wasn’t a lot of time before the enemy got restless. Or desperate.. When that happened, who could say what they might do to the hostages.

Tick…..tick…..tick….. He could picture Kaname. Her class had been over for a short while already. She would be walking up the stone path to his apartment building about now, struggling to keep her umbrella from collapsing in the heartless gusts of wind. When she got there…knocked on his door…and got no answer….

“A.I., initiate high frequency thermal scan. Overlap with ultrasonic mapping. Display the number of beating hearts in the two target areas. Prepare adhesive charges.”

WORKING. WORKING. OPERATIONS COMPLETED. DATA AVAILABLE. SCAN ON SCREEN. READY TO LAY EXPLOSIVES. Caps over multiple tubes near the oversized wrist joints slid aside. Puddy like material slid out near the opening.

Tick…..tick…..tick….. “Let’s go, Bonta-Kun!” Sousuke used the computer mouse to outline a shape on the computer screen. The dimensions were slightly larger than the A.S. He clicked on Enter. The BK-M5 walked automatically to the side wall of the bank. Arms moving, the puddy-like explosive oozed out under pressure, painting the prescribed shape on that wall. “Place detonators.” The tips of a number of the mechanical ringers folded back. Faster than the eye could follow, small radio-controlled metal cores shot out, embedding themselves in the plastique. “Retreat to a safe distance, Bonta-kun.”

IT IS DONE, CREATOR.

“Detonate.”

SIGNAL SENT.

Chips of brick, stone, and stucco flew about, thrown with great velocity by the explosives. The outlined shape slowly tipped over, falling into the bank.

Tick…..tick…..tick….. “Let's go!”

"Fumo fumo fumoffu!"

He threw his arms forward and moved his feet. The BK-M5 quickly reached top speed. Reaching the opening, Sousuke vaulted the obstructing debris, bring his shotgun around in one hand. Good thing it is auto-loading he thought, thankful.

The roses bent back slightly, the motion of the A.S. causing them to meet a modicum of wind resistance.

**************************************************
End of part 1.

[HELLFIRE]

...here I was wondering next would come from the non-stop pen of
dd, and guess what... and in time for V-Day no less

I can't tell which I'd be more surprised at... one day where he does
NOT do any of his otakuing, or Kaname going one day and
actually appreciating Sousuke's efforts to make her happy...

Cheers!, especially to dd






Regards

[Taurec]

rotflmao ..... you have sadistic tendencies to our poor sousuke nevertheless bravo ..