Ah My Goddess Fan Fiction ❯ Trial By Tenderness ❯ Part 35 - Backspin ( Chapter 36 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Part 36 Backspin



In my undergrad years, I occasionally considered a major in anthropology in addition to my two other majors; but I eventually decided against it. Now, seven centuries removed, my current situation gave me ample pause to consider the wisdom of this choice.
After suddenly becoming immersed in the milieu of 14th century Japan by some freakish time traveling, I had mixed feelings about whether I had taken enough anthro. The powerful reality of the arching thatched roofs of the village homes thrust forth my regret. What shadings of culture existed here that would be essential towards continued survival? I knew that the environing circumstances possessed hints and echoes...important details that I would miss because of a lack of foreknowledge. There were no cutesy Pokemon and Piyo Piyo cultural icons here.
In *this* Japan, one wrong move could get you killed...
My timetraveling companions definitely weren't anthro sorta guys; unfortunately, I couldn't rely on them to know what to expect either. They did have one very significant advantage over me...they were *Japanese*. The Chinese saying "tzu jan erh jan" came to mind...Keiichi and the others might be able to sense unseen things "because of their nature, being as they are." I would need to rely on their interpretation of events around us, because their knowledge resided 'in the bone', so to speak.
Revisiting my memories, I knew that my scholastic choices back then had been ultimately influenced by a guide voice deep inside me that whispered, "go for what you can love to do." Despite the fact that anthropology research claimed a large portion of the scholarship and fellowship funds, I felt a stronger affinity towards the areas of philosophy, history, literature and psychology. So I heeded its advice. However, I managed to crib a number of anthro courses, enough to comprise an undeclared minor.
Lying on my back on the dampened straw pile that served as rough bedding, a sharp insight descended on me like a bolt from a clear sky...profound in the face of its simplicity. As if anew, I realized that *I was being exposed to a treasure trove of ancient culture*!!! I tried to imagine what some of my old anthro professors would do if they were in my situation. I envisioned their weathered visages animated with sheer scholarly joy at the *power* of being in a whole different culture...a whole different time.
I was bone-tired after today's work session in the paddies. As morning dawned, we would go to a shallow pit and stomp manure into the mud so that the excrement was thoroughly mixed with the soil. Then we would transport the heat-thickened mixture to the rice paddies in two buckets supported by a shoulder pole. With each load of shitsoil we brought to the paddy, we would form furrows of raised compost. The women in the village would then transplant the rice shoots into the mounds of fertilized soil. I remembered a footnote in a historical text...about how this important task was entrusted only to the women of the village, because it was commonly held that their fertility would transfer to the crops, creating a more prodigious harvest. This gender-specific division of labor was still followed in 21st Century Japan in some rural mura whose main money crop was rice.
At least I remembered *that* much from my anthro studies...
Over the past few days, it seemed that many villages had available menial employ for transients; this seemed to directly counter the modern notion that in-grouping in the early Ashikaga Shogunate was almost exclusively endolocal in nature. Since the villages offered extra work for hire, it seemed implicit that a migrant class of peasant worker existed. Then again, we were in Kyushu, not Honshu. Our present whereabouts were tucked within the domain of Go-Daigo's rebel Southern Court.
During our dinner of bland boiled millet, Keiichi recounted the story about how he and Belldandy were planning last summer to go on a vacation...and that they had picked Shikoku by a random toss of a kaeru charm. He bemoaned the fact that this vacation never materialized because of Urd's and my little disappearing act. We joked with him that his vacation was finally coming about, only seven hundred years too early...and in Kyushu instead.
Our mood seemed to lighten up after our close encounter with the shogu-daimyo a couple of days ago. We frequently teased Keiichi by calling him "my Lord" or "Your Excellency." Keiichi usually took it in stride; when he didn't, one of us would end up dodging a mudball or some other thrown object.
We all took turns discussing our internal lives at length. Keiichi confided that he was missing Belldandy desperately at times...and that he was deeply concerned with these moribund turns of mood. But this situation was so much different than the business with the omiai, he reasoned. There were too many unknowns. How was it that we were separated from the others? Keiichi obviously didn't have a clue about what was going on with Belldandy...but he did offer his suspicion that she wasn't in the here and now of 14th century Japan.
Wiping the matted hair off my forehead, I was reminded of descriptions in dozens of travel books about how notoriously hot Japanese summers were. But I was ill equipped for the real thing. Living in our temple house masked the skinsweaty impact of the humid summer...due to a variety of ceiling fans, air conditioners and Divine thermostatics courtesy of Belldandy. Besides, I had spent most of this summer in Beijing, often in the air-conditioned comfort of Shao Yuan or the BeiDa library. Thus, I never really experienced the muggy summer heat in Makuhari...the summer heat I experienced in Dunhuang was of the arid desert climes.
But we were way south of Makuhari, and we lacked any means of relief from the omnipresent heat. The air was absolutely thick with canicular stillness. I went to sleep sopping in sweat and woke up twice as drenched. The past few mornings, I had awakened with myriad red marks where mosquitoes had done their work. Their constant crisp buzzing made it hard for me to go to sleep as well. Several years into recovery, I had 'prayed' away mosquito bites. One day, I just asked my HP to remove them after getting bit up at a picnic...and I never got bit again. But the power of those entreaties was revoked in this time and place, as I seemed to be a virtual feast for the mosquitoes. Looking at the dozens of bites on my arms, I worried about insect-borne contagions.
I sensed that I needed to regulate my thoughts, as I was bordering on an almost hypochondriac sensitivity and paranoia...
Tonight's shelter consisted of little more than an animal barn, with piles of straw in the corners for us to sleep on. I could see several horses in nearby stalls; their equine odor as much an irritant as the mosquitoes. We didn't have money for mosquito netting of course, and the only food we could buy was flourcakes and millet balls provided by a visiting food vendor.
"If I had a notebook, I would start a travelogue called 'Down and Out in 14th Century Kyushu'," I murmured to myself as the flies and mosquitoes dive bombed my ears. The zeni, or Japanese copper cash, was still two centuries away. We were usually paid in Chinese or Korean coppers, or occasionally in simple copper slugs. Itinerant wanderers living on a coin-lined shoestring.
After dinner, we invented nicknames for each other. Mine was "Boy Scout" because of my gaijin racial background. Keiichi's was "Your Lord" of course, while Tomohisa's was "Tomohawka" after I explained the near-homophonous romanji pun. Genji's was "Hikaru" from the famous character in the Heian novel Genji Monogatari.
We also decided to give ourselves a reprieve from working in the manure pits. Tomorrow, we would foottrip it towards Oita, where the Mori daimyoate was located. No doubt, the heat would be unbearable. The noise of the occasional procession of travelers, priests, officials and others on the road being the only withdraw from the ambient silence of insect chirpings and the cuckooing of hototogisu. Yet, something was inexorably drawing our attention to Oita.
As expected, the next day's trek started off with an oppressive balmy heat. After a breakfast of two millet balls apiece, we took to the roadpath leading into thick woods. On an inane impulse, I started singing "We're Off to See the Wizard" as we trudged down the road...strangely giving in to a whimsy as I envisioned us as the four travelers in that movie. To my surprise, Keiichi and the rest knew the English lyrics and accompanied me. So we started singing all sorts of different tunes; an out-of-tune chorus to be sure, but it passed the time. Soon, the singing veered into contemporary Japanese music and I was relegated to the role of critical audience because of the many J-pop songs they sang that I was unfamiliar with.
The only way to wash was to bath in the chill of a river; a welcome respite during the noontime blast of furnaced air. I wondered how long it would take before I got used to the fact that there were no toilets, urinals or sinks.
If I ever *could*...

* * * * * * * *

Megumi stared in open-mouthed awe at the urban spectacle on the other side of the window. It was like a dream...she had never seen so many lights and buildings! She turned to look at Sayoko...hoping to assure herself that she wasn't hallucinating. Sayoko was rigid...wordlessly transfixed with the sight. Returning her gaze to the futuristic urbanation, Megumi felt her senses urge towards overload.
The sight was simply...incredible.
"Take cityscenes from Blade Runner, Parallaz and Fifth Element; mix in all the futuristic Neo-Tokyo animes like Akira, Tokyo Future Megalopolis, Neo-Tokyo 2030 and Metropolis; and season it with flying vehicles from Back to the Future and Futurama," Megumi said silently to herself, trying to describe the dazzling sight she was witnessing. She abandoned the effort when she realized that this wasn't some special effect matte painting...this was the *real thing*.
"Or is it?" she wondered. "Could this be some weird alternate dimension? Something caused by one of the Goddesses? If so, then why are we *confined* here?"
Megumi felt the weight of the future pressing upon shoulders that were only strong enough to carry the present. She envisioned herself feeling like the renowned Urashima Taro of children's fairy tales. Like Taro, or his Western counterpart Rip Van Winkle, Megumi imagined herself to have been ripped out of time and thrust into an uncertain future by forces unknown. The uncertainties of this future were powerfully demonstrated by the dizzying sight in front of her, just on the other side of the window.
Tokyo was spread out before her. It was undeniably a futuristic Tokyo that was clearly many years beyond 20XX. She recognized the geological features of Tokyo Bay, the Bozo Peninsula and the nearby mountains...but everything else was drastically different.
Megumi saw structures shaped like Mayan pyramids silhouetted against the orange horizon of the sunset. In the middle of Tokyo Bay were hundreds of floating complexes...architectural wonders of all shapes and sizes, connected by tube-enclosed roads. Needle-like buildings thousands of meters tall that looked impossibly top-heavy were everywhere; supported by delicate thin pillars of glass and crystal. Floating spheres projected videoscreen images and commercials. Car-like vehicles hovering in the air within an organized procession of 'lanes', ushered by holographic traffic signals.
The Tokyo she knew was unrecognizable, except for the Imperial Palace and a few parks. Sunshine City was under a dome that resembled a vacuum tube, with another level of skyscrapers perched atop the geodesic covering. Shinjuku no longer had its array of skyscrapers; instead there was a single mountainous block of what looked like black marble, dotted with thousands of windowlights. Megumi soberly counted the building's storeys; her eyes gave out after almost 600. There were green belts of parkway...*floating* in between the large citybuildings. As far as she could see, there was city. The summit of Mt. Fuji appeared to be *below* her vantagepoint view of the city.
"How do you describe the future?" she asked herself in a quiet voice.
For some reason, a memory arose of the story her grandmother had told her; about an incredible event that occurred while Megumi's mother was a teenager. A Japanese WW II soldier had remained on a remote Pacific island for 29 years, from 1942 to 1971, still evading capture. In his mind, the war wasn't over. Eventually, family members were enlisted to try and convince him that the war had ended. When he surrendered, he returned to Japan to a hero's welcome...his steadfastness was viewed as one of the penultimate examples of Bushido in modern times. But being thrust into Tokyo in the early 1970s took its toll on his psyche. In Ueno Park, where military rallies to demonstrate devotional fervor to the emperor had once been held...now these had been replaced with hippie gatherings and rock concerts. Television had succeeded the radio. Japan had lost the war and endured seven years of the Allied Occupation. All of these changes culminated in a nervous breakdown requiring hospitalization. Then, sometime in 1972, right after his 50th birthday, he simply got on a boat and disappeared, never to be heard from again. Megumi's mother was in her late teens at the time...in a teenage fancy, she was intrigued by the idea of a man from the past thrust into the *now*.
And as Megumi was growing up, her grandmother would occasionally ask her, "Where do you think he went? Why do you think he left his life in Japan?" Her mother would ask her as well; seemingly to weigh the maturity of Megumi's responses over the years. Eventually, Megumi realized why he left...Japan of the 1970s wasn't *home* for him.
This urban complexity was as alien to her as Tokyo must have been for that soldier.
"Le Corbusier, Paulo Soleri and Buckmaster Fuller," she heard Sayoko say reverently after a long silence.
"What?"
"I took a course in Urban Engineering during the summer after my sophomore year, as an exchange student at the University of Paris. My term paper addressed the history of engineered cities as conceptualized by 20th century architects. Arcologies...cities contained entirely within a single building. The use of Megastructures and grandscale urban planning, or perhaps a network of buildings. Buckmaster Fuller had his Fullerdomes and Triton floating cityblocks. Soleri designed organic ministructures; cityblocks intended to house hundreds of thousands as a self-contained 'city'. Le Corbusier designed beltway cities in the 1920s and 30s. They're all here, Megumi," Sayoko explained in a voice that clearly marveled the vast engineering brilliance of the city just outside their room.
Megumi put her hands on the window glass to steady herself...she felt like she was going to fall into the city. The energy of the patterns of lights seemed to draw her like a moth to a flame.
"We must be *thousands* of meters in the air!" Sayoko observed, also steadying herself by leaning against the window. "I can see *into* the cone of Fujiyama!"
Megumi finally took several steps back and collapsed into one of the chairs.
"This has to be a trick! This...is impossible!" her mind raced in an attempt to short-circuit the pastiche of visual sensations. Unable to explain the vista of conurbation in front of her, Megumi started studying the thousands of signs for clues. Neon signs, multi-hued lighted signs, signs that looked like holograms...
"Hunnhh!" she gasped.
"Megumi, you okay?" Sayoko asked with concern.
"T..that sign, over there," she said in a shaky voice, trying to blink her eyes rapidly to check her disbelief. Hoping it was just something wrong with her eyes. She pointed at a floating globe with greenish neon lettering, and looked on as Sayoko visually oriented to her quivering pointed finger...difficult to do when faced with millions of points of lights carpeted all the way to the horizon. She watched as Sayoko gasped with shock and slowly crumpled to her knees. Sayoko's collapse of confidence caused Megumi to start sobbing; she could barely hear her sempai's astonished confirmation.
"M..Megumi, I..it says...this is *impossible*! This must be some kind of joke! That...green globe thing..." Sayoko stammered, unable to find her voice. She looked again at the floating globe and shuddered, feeling utterly defeated.
Megumi sensed her head dizzying into lightheaded oblivion...she had observed the same time and date displayed on *another* floating object, brick-shaped with glowing red outlines. Then another object which resembled a purple Ferris Wheel floating horizontal to the city, the date viewed head-on. She staggered away from the window, drunk on incomprehension and an ominous sense of alarm. Shuffling unsteadily, she swooned onto one of the couches and curled up, wanting to close her mind to the floating contour that served as a city-clock, showing everyone the date:
September 7th, 2049

* * * * * * * *

Belldandy felt her blood turn to ice and back in a span of a second. The man in the spotlight was instantly recognizable with his glasses and full head of silvery hair. His slight frame was tall and dignified, but his smarmy expression was unmistakable. Despite the barrier that separated her from him, she could *feel* the arrogance radiating outward from the figure in front of her.
"Toshiyuki Aoshima!" she half-shouted half-gasped.
"You may address me as Director Aoshima, of the Toshishima Imperium...Belldandy, Norn of the Present," the man replied smugly. Belldandy saw her sisters react with shock out of the corner of her eye. She looked to Urd for reassurance...
Urd was wide-eyed and mouth agaped.
"This can't be...you're a college sophomore!" Urd said in disbelief. She looked over at Belldandy, who was daunted into silence; presumably because this man claiming to be Aoshima knew exactly who and what she was.
"How many college sophomores do you know that are in their sixties, Urd...Norn of the Past?" he replied condescendingly. Urd's look of confusion transformed into a smirk, masking her shock at his insight into her divine nature.
"Well, maybe you failed your graduate exams for the last umpteen years," Urd shot back derisively, with an irritated look on her face.
The elderly version of Aoshima shot her a guarded angry look.
"What's the matter? Did all those races you lost to Keiichi cause you to drop out of N.I.T.? Did they cause your hair to turn gray?" Urd snarled at their captor, quick to notice that her first taunt had gotten inside his smug demeanor and irritated him.
"*Shut your mouth*! It would be in your best interest to refrain from your facile attempts to bait me with pitiful, unimaginative insults. *I* am in total control of this situation!"
"He is definitely Aoshima! Just as sarcastic and arrogant as ever," Belldandy realized. She mentally chided herself for not recognizing Aoshima's voice earlier. It was a little weathered with tremolo rasping due to age, but it sounded almost the same. He looked almost exactly the same as well, except for the fact that his hair was peppered with gray and silver, and he sported a thin gray moustache. His face was lean with smooth wrinkles and he sported the same style of glasses that he had worn in college.
Belldandy was shocked beyond shock, and her dread deepened when he revealed to her that he knew that she was a Goddess...specifically the Norn of the Present. The fact that Aoshima knew who and what she was...was extremely disturbing. *No* mortal should know this, save for her immediate circle of friends and Keiichi, of course. But Aoshima *knew*.
"How much more *does* he know?" she wondered silently.
"2049," Skuld said quietly.
"What?" Belldandy asked, curious at the single number Skuld had just blurted out randomly.
"What is that, Skuld? Keiichi's bank card PIN?" Urd added as she looked to Belldandy for confirmation. Skuld grimaced at Urd's pale attempt at a joke.
"If he *is* sixty years old like he says, then we are in the year 2049," Skuld explained matter-of-factly. Urd and Belldandy looked at each other with disturbed faces. They both realized that there was something distinctly amiss in time...and of course it would be Skuld that would figure out the futuristic date.
"Excellent! Leave it to Skuld, Norn of the Future, to deduce what year this is. Now, can you guess the day as well, my girl?" Aoshima complemented her.
"Not for *you*. Not in a thousand years!" Skuld said defiantly, pulling her eyelid down and sticking her tongue out. Urd put a hand to her forehead in unamused exasperation at Skuld's childish posturing.
"And I'm *not* 'your' girl!" the youngest sister exclaimed angrily. Now that she had figured out what year it was, Skuld *knew* the exact date of course, but she didn't want to reveal to him the accuracy with which she could interpret the future TimeStream...a privilege and responsibility that accompanied being the Norn of the Future. Instead, she examined the control room closely, rapidly observing that many of the controls were holophotic in nature.
"This technology is far beyond any means that I would have predicted Mankind to possess in the mid-21st century! This doesn't *feel* right!" she observed. She could tell from the illuminated digital readouts that the field that was encasing them was pulling terawatts of electricity from whatever source it tapped into.
"Fusion reactors?" she asked herself as the portal-like 'window' to their room began to close.
As the viewport out of their cell began to shut, Urd blinked...in the background of the other room, she thought she saw a small gray blur.
"Waitaminute. I have a bunch of questions..." Urd started to protest, then pulled up to a halt when the wallwindow closed off.
Belldandy felt a skinprickly flush come over her as she realized that Aoshima had seen her...naked. She remembered the time he tried to video her while she was in the bath...how she had screamed "Pervert!" at the top of her lungs like Keiichi had instructed her. She normally wasn't conscious of her body being clothed or unclothed. Around Keiichi, being unclothed brought an intense glow to her heart...and tingling to her body. Around Aoshima, being unclothed brought an intense revulsion to her spirit...and trembling to her body. The scene in the love hotel replayed itself in her mind; especially Aoshima's naked lust and insolent attitude.
"H..he saw me!" Belldandy exclaimed in anguish.
"Well, of course he saw you, big sister!" Skuld remarked.
"No! You don'te understand! He saw me *nude*!"
"Sooo..." Skuld said with nonchalance. A moment later, she covered her mouth with her hand as the import of Belldandy's statement struck her. She felt herself suddenly taken with fitful trembling.
Urd floated over to where the viewing window was and started pounding the metallic surface. Since she was floating, without any surface to gain purchase on, she was sent somersaulting head over heels. It finally occurred to her that they were being confined in a zero-gravity environment.
"You...bastard! Get us some clothes!" she shouted while she spun akimbo. Belldandy hugged herself protectively. Aoshima was right. She and her sisters were losing their sense of belonging and security. They were getting unnerved, riled up. Snappy at each other.
She watched as Urd continued to scream angrily at the windowport wall.

* * * * * * * *

"The journey continues!" Genji said happily as he finally finished cutting logs from the woodpile for the village headman. It was exhausting work...yet it was a welcome break from slogging manure in the rice pit. The village leader had offered one of them work chopping wood while the other three composted...Genji had won the privilege after they rock-scissor-papered it.
He met Keiichi and the others at the inn. They were going to start off in the evening, but a thunderstorm was mounting the twilight horizon. Prudently deciding to wait out the storm, the four sheltered under the village mon, or gate, as the downpour lasted deep into the night. Cevn was joking about the old movie "Rashomon", and the discussion turned to literary appreciation. Genji was well read in modern classicist novelists like Soseki, Oe, Akutagawa, Murikami...and of course, his namesake, Mishima Yukio.
Even though he still thought of Cevn as his N.I.T. sensei, it was a pleasure for Genji to talk literature with him as an equal, without any academic pretenses. It turned out that he shared with Cevn the opinion that many writers of modern Japanese 'introspective genre' fiction were presenting romantic scenarios, which were almost gothic in nature. Genji personally felt that this sensationalizing of the darker side of human life was often confusedly interpreted as 'profound insight' by both authors and readers, because of the perceived difficulty of starkly expressing the vulgar or disgusting. Cevn agreed with him that this literary trend was actually superficial because it focused on destruction, rather than deconstructive creation. It simply reported human depravity, rather than deeply examining it; the authors seemed to assume that their readers would be able to undertake this task. But he and Cevn both believed that most readers were grossly mired in determinism...unable to compass the lurid nature of the works, let alone examining it.
The morning came and they resumed their journey towards the capital city of Oita. Traveling in the modern era was almost like magic compared to *this*: in less than a minute by car, they could travel a distance that now required ten to fifteen minutes walking.
"*Everything* seems so slow here," Keiichi remarked once more.

* * * * * * * *

On the road, the four met a group of beggars, famished by malnutrition; their sunken faces were indication enough that they hadn't eaten in a significant time. Cevn and Keiichi parted with what little they could spare out of their coppers. The beggars' gestures of gratitude was extraordinary...Keiichi felt a flush of embarrassment as they bowed/groveled profusely in front of him.
"It's either them or us, isn't it?" Genji complained after the beggars thanked them and went on their way.
"Not really. Besides, we aren't exactly starving. Didn't you see those children?" Keiichi challenged him irritably. "Well, I guess you wouldn't know the want of food, growing up in a billion-yen family!"
"Keiichi!" Genji growled warningly.
"Yeah...you were lucky enough to avoid the manure pits yesterday. You're so lucky! Rich kid, good-looking sister...only the best cars and clothes. So what are you doing in some junk tech school like N.I.T., when you could be going to Waseda University or some other exclusive college?" Tomohisa added, siding with his cousin.
"Shut up! You guys are full of it! Leave me alone!" Genji snapped back. His anger capitalizing on Keiichi's ill-timed affront, he turned an ire-uglied face towards Keiichi. Tomohisa and Cevn looked shocked as the insurgent electricity of the moment filled the air with tension.
"Let's do it! Here and now!" Genji challenged Keiichi, clenching his fists.
"Are you crazy, Genji?" Keiichi said with a shake of his head. Somehow, helping the poor band of beggars had become twisted into a very serious matter in the mind of his traveling companion; a twist that surprised Keiichi.
"C'mon! What are you waiting for? Or are you a coward?" Genji repeated his challenge. He pulled off his hempen shirt and tossed it aside. Crouching into a fighter's stance, he advanced on Keiichi.
Keiichi felt a rush of uneasiness...part of him really wanted to *punch the daylights* out of Genji. Genji had taken up with his sister without his permission...Genji had moved into *his* house while Cevn was away. Genji was always telling him what to do ever since they time-traveled back to here...
Keiichi caught his rising rage before it could mount over his common sense. He realized how ridiculous this all was.
"I'm not going to fight you, Genji. I don't care what you think...I *know* that I did the right thing by giving those beggars some of our money," Keiichi defended, staring unflinchingly at Genji.
Genji's flash of anger seemed to be depowered like a beachside campfire snuffed by oceanwaves. Keiichi's passive response was too incongruent to the situation. Without a word, Genji turned and started walking down the road, leaving three very amazed fellow travelers behind him.
"You must think that I'm an idiot!" Genji admitted a few minutes later after a cooldown period, the standoff being concluded without hostilities.
"Not at all, Genji! I'm surprised we aren't going off even more on each other. This isn't exactly a high school field trip to Akita," Keiichi observed. "The whole transition from modern lifestyle to the life of a 14th century peasant isn't very pleasant...on any of us."
"You know, we've really got to watch out for ourselves. We're the only ones who are in each other's corners," Cevn said, breaking his silence briefly.
"By the way, is there any chance that when we come to the next big wooded area, we can look for a stream? I'm feeling really dirty...really grungy," Tomohisa interjected. Everybody nodded his head at this.
Keiichi could barely stand the filth that they were walking around with. The rashes that they all were complaining about didn't help matters at all, he noted.

* * * * * * * *

Sayoko reclined on her side on the couch, looking out at the futuristic Tokyo until her eyes gave out and she fell asleep. Before lying down, she had gone through all the rooms on their floor, just to check. Each room had a window that opened up into a panorama of the giant city.
She dreamed...she dreamed of a place unblemished by man's technology and cityscapes. A gentle sunrise seemed to float on scented winds. Moths, which showered golden dustings of wisdom, fluttered around shimmering gardenia flowers. Sayoko felt herself lying on her back in the soft padding of a small grove, the blades of grass tickling her cheeks as the wind caressed them. The floats from the dandelions turned into angelic fairies as they swarmed her gently.
Inside of the grassy embrace, she felt herself slowly sinking...as if the verdant carpet was buoying her like a pool of water. As she descended, she saw frightful skulls and aged faces peering towards her; suspended into floating glacier-like shelves of light azure ice. The darkness jarred with a cough...
Abruptly sitting upright after the nightmarish bent of her dream, Sayoko heard Megumi coughing in her sleep. She had fallen asleep on the other couch.
"Everyone we know is old...or dead," Sayoko muttered aloud in a quiet voice. She tried to picture her friends as they approached the age of retirement...

...Would Genji be living in a nice house in Tokyo...or maybe the Mishima family mansion? Would cousin Toshiyuki be tending a garden with his grandchildren? Could they be somewhere amongst the teeming millions I see, just outside of this window? Would Keiichi and Belldandy still be together? Would Cevn still be teaching at N.I.T.? Would Tamiya be at his grandfather's farm in Hokkaido? What would Ootaki be doing as he approached his retirement?...

...she suppressed a giggle at the thought of Ootaki as an aging senior salaryman engineer in some corporation.
"Would they even be *alive*?" she exclaimed dismally, consumed by a morose bent of mind. Her mood pivoted between pitchblack despair and an uneasiness that she couldn't put a finger on. Looking out the window just worsened it. The billions of lights of nighttime Tokyo reminded her of how far she was from home. She might as well been light-years away from Earth.
"It's no wonder that I can't understand this feeling! How many people have been displaced *40 years* into the future? This unsettled feeling...it dances around my existence...poking it with the debris of my own unfamiliarity. Do they have computers in this era? Time travel? Does the rest of the world even *exist*? Did someone from the future *pull* us into this new earthtime life?" she wondered.
Sayoko leaned back onto the padding of her couch and ran her fingers through her long silky black hair with a practiced motion. She glanced at Megumi, envying how she could sleep so peacefully. Sayoko was only a year and a half older than Megumi...yet sometimes it seemed like there was a decade's difference in age between them. Maybe it was because Megumi was still basking in the glow of the romantic love she shared with her brother Genji. For all she knew, Genji may have been Megumi's first love. What was new to Megumi was old hat to Sayoko, in terms of her brother.
"Regrets," she said to herself. Sayoko felt a plunge in her heart as she realized that she had never told *him* how she felt. About how she *wanted* to love him. Wanted to be with him. Wanted to share her todays with him...
But dire Fate had snuck her out a back door that shouldn't have existed...before she could speak her heart to the man who mattered most to her, who called out to her heart by simply *being*.
She recalled the letters he had written her while she was in the DART program in Okinawa (Do people still use paper in this time? Do they even have drug addiction in the mid-21st century? Rehabs? Crime? NA?)
He had encouraged her as a 'friend'...but Sayoko's sharp feminine intuition alerted her to the reality that he aspired to be much more than 'friends'. When she returned to Makuhari, Sayoko had exercised a cautious approach...not wanting to jeopardize her hard-won recovery. Yet they had talked with deep affection about so many viewpoints and aspirations. He had undertaken a difficult road in life, which painted his exterior with a betraying toughness. His rough-n-tough exterior shielded a tender, often insecure heart. She could identify with this...could empathize completely with him in this regard. Sayoko knew aggressiveness all too well.
Throughout her life, she had to act tough. *Act* tough. Growing up alone (Are my parents still alive?) caused her to bridge the canyon of indecisiveness with a bitchy exterior and a dogged self-discipline. Engineering...art...academic excellence; these were the proofs of her labors.
Gazing at Megumi's recumbent form, Sayoko could feel a kindred spirit in her friend. (What passes for human relationships in this future era? Do most people relate via the Internet? Is face-to-face friendship obsolete?) She recalled how Megumi had studied tenaciously for the finals before the end-of-the-year break. To Sayoko, Megumi seemed driven too, but for different reasons. Megumi was by nature an 'uppity' woman...not afraid to take chances. She certain was not afraid to take the initiative in her relationship with Genji.
She had even learned that Megumi had been training this fall to go on the annual Tokyo-Osaka Bike Ride next spring...not exactly the most 'feminine' of pursuits. Not too many junior coeds were training for a 770Km bike ride through mountainous terrain back roads. (How are women treated in this era? How do women treat men?) She chuckled as she remembered when a desperate Genji had sought her advice several times in respect to Megumi's assertive nature. Sayoko had simply told him to "roll with it."
Her thoughts wandered back to the One. The one guy.
"How could I even begin to explain this to him? Did he wait for me for forty years?" she wondered. The thought of a man waiting for her for a ridiculously long time seasoned the romantic in her with an ambrosial lingering. But she didn't know if she could handle the stark realities of the truth. If he *had* moved on...she would obviously be far from his thoughts...a distant shadow of a shadow in the echoing recesses of his memory. A tear eclipsed her eye as she considered the unspeakable.
No. He would most certainly be married. He would have raised his children...he may even have grandchildren. He would probably be retired, or nearing retirement. No...Sayoko would only be a distant figure in his life.
"If his heart is lost to me...then part of my heart is lost as well," she thought sadly. She closed the curtains; the sight of the city of the future repulsively representing the bitterness of an entire life...lost.
Stranded.

* * * * * * * *

Skuld felt a tingling in her physical manifestation as the handheld object that Aoshima was pointing at her scanned her. On the displays behind his back, she observed dozens of holographic panels projecting different features, aspects, attributes and measurements. Of her. Sonic portrait, thermograph, arcane energy displacement charts, mass spectrometry, molecular cohesion...
"He's being very thorough," she noted with a definite twinge of fear. Aoshima seemed to regard her with the same detached scientific interest that she reserved for her non-AI mechas. Skuld could recognize the gleam of 'research greed' in his eyes.
Hours earlier, several opaquely translucent barriers suddenly went up between each of the sisters, unannounced. Try as she might, Skuld could only rebound off the separating field as she attempted to reach Urd and Belldandy for a comforting hug. They looked at each other in frustration as Aoshima began to scan Urd first, then Belldandy, and lastly her.
Despite the fact that he was not actually touching her, Skuld felt like she was being untowardly invaded. Her person wasn't just some subject of scientific curiosity. She was a *being*.
Aoshima seemed to look at her with a naked curiosity in his eyes. Skuld didn't know whether it was sexual in nature, or knowledge-thirst. She shuddered as he smiled at her...a falsely courteous smile that dripped with the venom of impiety. Once more she regretted the loss of her powers...at this moment, she *really* wanted to turn herself invisible. Better yet, turn *him* invisible.
"<Urd...why is he looking at me so funny?>" she thoughtcast.
"<I don't know, Skuld. But I *do* know that he's *sick*...>" was all her oldest sister could thoughtcast in response. Skuld looked at Belldandy, only to see that her other older sister was huddled tightly as she floated. It seemed that Belldandy was as dispirited now as she had been when she first heard about the omiai two months ago.
Skuld suddenly noticed that she was trembling uncontrollably; quivering with raw nerves and fear. Aoshima hadn't said a word since the windowport had opened up unexpectedly. He was just scanning them, occasionally turning to an aide for a side discussion. He didn't even bother them with any of the boring platitudes that he habitually preached in the midst of his sporadic 'conversations' with the three Goddesses.
Mercifully, the window closed a few minutes later.
Skuld noticed that the forcefields which separated her from her sisters had dissolved. Then she saw Belldandy's face...a face filled with the sadness of a defeated refugee. Of the three, being captive had told most on her middle sister. Urd was animated with sarcasm and resentment; she herself was perky with fear and a desire to escape. But these last few days had taken their toll on Belldandy. Skuld floated over and hugged her sister.
"He kept looking at me...and I *couldn't get away*," Belldandy repeated over and over.
Skuld looked at Urd with concern; she shuddered inwardly as she saw an alarmed look on Big Sister's tanned face.

* * * * * * * *

We arrived in Oita as mid-afternoon shadows started to lengthen. The capital was filled with 14th century humanity: street vendors, farmers selling produce, priests, children playing in the roadway and squads of samurai retainers. Because of the recent rains, the dampened road wasn't kicking up billows of dust as we strolled down the main street. I was filled with open admiration for its display of the pageantry of humankind. Rawer, more personable versions of our 'modern' selves.
I rubbed my chin, unaccustomed to having a beard. But here I was, with several week's growth on my face. No electric shavers in 14th century Japan, and all that. If I had to choose between spending my coppers on millet or rice, or getting a shave...the rice always won out.
Once we reached our destination, I quickly succumbed to a feeling of dog-tiredness from our long walking trip. My sense of fatigue was mirrored in the faces of my friends; Genji even admitted that he was so tired, he could spend a week in a hot springs relaxing.
His comment cued Keiichi to relate a story about a vacation his family had taken years ago to the nearby Beppu hot springs, just north of Oita. The Beppu springs were renowned throughout Japan for their curative properties; thus becoming a favorite domestic tourist stop in the faraway 21st century. One spring was simply called "the Hells" because the mineral-rich water often boiled out through the surface hued with a blood-red color. Keiichi had slipped on one of the rocks, slicing his foot open. This made the vacation even more memorable, as it was his first experience getting stitched up by a doctor.
As we walked down the dusty streets, I noticed uniformed bands of militiamen walking through the city in small groups. Not really walking, but observing...policing. They wore an archaic form of the typical kami-shimo so often found in the historical genre of TV samurai dramas. I identified what appeared to be several classes of samurai, varying from simply-dressed lower retainers to the elite retainers with elaborate patterns on their stiff-shouldered kataginu over-jackets. All of them were weaponed with wicked-looking swords and spears.
After a quick debate, we decided to treat ourselves to a real meal at a sitdown kitchen in one of the alleys. The shop was a combination crockery store and restaurant. The shop owner was an elderly man; elderly in the 14th century being anything above forty years of age. On the wall was a tattered certificate of apprenticeship...in Kyoto of all places! He labored briefly behind a triple stove, and then served us a delicious plateful of homemade noodles with some kind of peppery spice arrangement, prawns, chicken, miso soup and sake. Keiichi informed me that the sake was rather coarse...and strong. He wouldn't let Tomohisa touch the stuff...he and Genji took one small bowl apiece and then set the bottle aside.
Near the end of our repast, a hawker going door-to-door stuck his head in and announced that there was going to be a traveling troupe performing a play. I looked Genji in the eyes and saw a fireworks of interest play on his face. Being a connoisseur of theatre, his response was as I expected.
"We gotta check this out!" he blurted excitedly. I nodded my head in agreement, while Keiichi and Tomohisa rolled their eyes.
We finished our meal and took to the street. A gaily-painted streamer had been unfurled and bannered from the front of a large wooden building. Townspeople curious about the 'event' thronged the front of the storehouse. Inside, I could see several men hard at work converting the interior to a playhouse. The insistence in Genji's expression mirrored my own strong inclinations; on impulse, I decided to unload half my coppers to the hawker to gain the four of us admittance.
Momohori Naoki was still a half-century away. Naoki was almost universally credited with the creation of Kowaka...the medieval ballad-drama of Japan. Kowaka had all but died out by modern times, but it was an entertainment staple of the later Ashikaga years and the Edo period. At its zenith, it equaled Noh as the preferred entertainment of the cultured samurai patrons. Its antecedent influences can still be readily observed in modern Japanese theater; yet Bunraku was centuries away in the future, not to mention Kabuki performance.
We managed to get good 'seats' at the front of a dusty earthen floor, nearby a makeshift stage. Brightly painted backdrops were carefully hung behind the stage. I was amazed at the industriousness of the stagehands; they had crafted a theatrical ambiance in a very short time.
The entertainment itself was a weird blend of gagaku and bugaku. Musicians with Chinese and Korean instruments formed into two groups at the side of the stage. The main performers wore crudely painted, yet elaborate folded paper masks. I conferred with Genji and we arrived at the conclusion that we were going to witness a Butokoraku piece...a dramatization of a martial-virtue play focusing on the Heike era. Floor-mounted paper lanterns cast a variety of colors on the stage as the woodwinds and flautists performed a somber entrance piece. I was ecstatic at the prospect of viewing early Japanese live theatre. This was the 14th century equivalent of a night at the movies...and I expected us to be entertained!
Three hours later, the players finished. Performing two plays out of their repertoire, they had captivated us with a thrilling mixture of energetic dance and thespian intensity. The comedic elements were a little hard for me to follow, except for some of the more ribald dramatic passages. Some of the gymnastic efforts by the dancers during the martial scenes of the performance were so precisely cued, I couldn't help by speculate that this troupe was the product of generations of master-apprentice training. The music was completely novel to my ears...it was an able accompaniment to the shifts in mood during the performance. For some reason, the songs suggested Tang Dynasty Xian performance, as they lacked the percussiveness of later Japanese theatrical music. Strangely enough, I expected applause from the audience. When the four of us clapped our hands at the end of the first play, we gained a host of confused stares from all directions. Evidently, the hallmark of approval in the 14th century was whistling and shouting, not handclapping.
After the performance, Genji asked some passersby about directions to the daimyo's mansion. After several attempts that drew suspicious glances from the men and women we stopped, a group of teenagers pointed out the road to the daimyo's gate. A group of constables observed us, "It's your necks on the chopping blocks..." their eyes seemed to say. It was nearing twilight; the streets were visibly shed of their crowds of pedestrians.
We decided to seek an inn for the night.
"Gas or steam?" Keiichi asked Genji with a meditative look on his face. I looked at them with curiosity...this enigmatic statement seemed to come out of a random nonspace.
"What?" Genji projected his confusion, as the question was directed to him.
"We need to sell ourselves to the daimyo, in order to gain admittance to his court. In order to do that, we need to offer something that he can't get anywhere else," Keiichi elaborated.
"And..."
"How many engineering students are there in Japan in the 14th century...with our knowledge of vehicles, mechanics and materials? We know something that no else in the world knows at this point! How to make an engine," Keiichi explained excitedly. I watched as Genji looked at Keiichi, his face gradually softening from bewilderment to curiosity as the possibilities dawned on him.
"Cool! We build an engine...and then we make a 'war chariot' for the Daimyo?"
"Exactly! We could spend the next couple of days here drafting a design for a simple engine. We could mount the engine on a hardwooden chassis. Remember, in this era in Japan's history, the art of smelting metals is probably pretty good...in fact, the swords manufactured in the Ashikaga Shogunate were far superior to any other swords made in Europe in the same era," Keiichi said excitedly. They were onto something, and I wanted to encourage it.
"Definitely! Don't take me for being weird, but I saw several samurai with uchi-gatana and dai-tachi blades," I said in a quiet voice. "This period, known as the Nanbokucho, is historically very important in terms of swordmaking. The exaggerated sizes of swords crafted in the 1350s established a standard to which the swordsmiths of later ages reacted by producing smaller katana," I observed. Tomohisa gave me one of his 'how do you know this obscure shit?' looks, shaking his head with a grin.
My voice wasn't muted enough. Genji hushed me; pointing at the several patrons standing in front of the eatery attached to the inn staring at me suspiciously. I wasn't any more used to being considered as a curiosity now then I was when we first got stranded in this place. I felt like a circus sideshow freak. It went beyond prejudice...I was experiencing xenophobic reactions from most of the people we encountered. Soon, we found ourselves joining the ranks of customers at the sit-down eatery. I felt really hungry after our long journey; it was almost a luxury to have a second go-round at a restaurant.
Millet gruel and dirt-speckled rice balls just didn't cut it.
"We're talking engines here...and you should keep quiet, you're attracting a lot of attention," Genji whispered to me warningly as we sat down at a shopworn wooden table.
"He attracts attention anywhere we go," Tomohisa commented. "Have you seen any other gaijin since we came here? Not a single one."
"All things aside, I think that the metalworking *might* be sophisticated enough to create a crude engine. All we have to do is have some metal cast into molds, then pour the steel in, and then assemble an engine," Keiichi said.
The next half hour or so passed with animated discussions between Keiichi and Genji. Obviously, their engineering spirits were inspired by the challenge of constructing a vehicle using the archaic technology of Medieval Japan...
Then they shifted to discuss me.
"True. Tomohisa's got a point though. In the city, Cevn's going to attract a lot more attention than he did on the road. We need to remain on our guard. And he needs to keep his mouth shut," Genji said, turning his attention back to me. I felt a little brushed off by Genji's tough use of words, but I knew he was right.
"I also think that a steam engine would be more practical, because I think we're going to have a lot of problems finding anything that can be refined into oil and gasoline. Besides, we're in an area with tons of hot springs...which might make it easier to sell our idea to the Lord," Genji finished. Keiichi nodded his head in assent.
"Not you, Keiichi. The *real* Lord," Tomohisa teased. Keiichi scowled at him in between bites of noodles, while I choked down a laugh with a glass of water.
"You mean Kami-sama?" he shot back with a smirk. Genji winced slightly at this inference.

* * * * * * * *

Megumi was going stircrazy. The only other person in her world was Sayoko...who was getting on her nerves. By her count, they had been 'guests' in this hospital/clinic for almost a month. More than enough time to get sick of the routines. Enough time for the mere presence of Sayoko to curry forth an onset of a irritation punctuated with occasional swelts of loathing.
Earlier, the two coeds had engaged in an enervating screaming match that lasted until their voices became hoarse. Megumi angrily retreated to the 'living room' as they called their main room...the one with the outrageous window wall view of Tokyo. The city itself looked aggressive in the nighttime; its hurly-burly luminosity underlighting the clouds with an orange-red glow.
As her blood cooled, Megumi regretted stringing her anger along so intensely. She suspected that the earlier blowout was the result of simultaneous PMS'ing on the part of her and Sayoko.
"I'm slowly going *crazy*!" Megumi collected her thoughts with an attendant concern.
How much was her anger abetted by their confinement? Was her rage actually due to the fact that she was forty years removed from anything that mattered in her life? Was she misdirecting frustration for powerlessness? The reality here had been grafted onto her being...a mistake in the sense that she was struggling against an environment that could no longer define her. It *wasn't* real...it wasn't even *her*.
Megumi know that she would have to patch it up with Sayoko. Sayoko was the only other bastion of humanity in her life...and Megumi realized that she could have fared much worse. She curled up, trying to imagine spending a month with no one to talk to except Ootaki. *That* thought brought a shudder to her spine! Despite their differences, Sayoko had proved herself an anchor of sanity for Megumi in an ocean of madness. So sane, in fact, that Sayoko could vent invective at her like a tomcat spraying a corner in the house.
"Well, maybe that isn't the best image I could have come up with!" she said to herself with a chuckle. This last shout-down showed that her sempai seemed to be pretty strong when faced with her potent fury . Megumi smiled to herself: thankfully, she could rely on the knowledge that Sayoko could hold her own whenever their personalities forced a volcanic clash of wills. Which was asking a lot.
Megumi knew from experience that Keiichi couldn't even handle her when she was *really* mad. She recalled a few teardown shouting matches in their brother-sister relationship that resulted in a cowed Keiichi appealing to his mother to mediate things.
Megumi felt her anger further subside as she recalled one time in particular...

Years ago, Keiichi had 'borrowed' her bicycle...without asking her, of course. Later in the day, he returned with his head hanging low...mumbling something about how her bike had been stolen. Megumi's response was purely one of adolescent blind rage; she screamed at him with full lungpower while chasing him around the house with an aluminum softball bat...until Keiichi barricaded himself in the corner of a closet. She smiled inwardly at the memories; the whole Morisato family was in an uproar that day. Naturally, he didn't admit to not locking it until he was 21 and she was 20...a safe distance from a 13-year-old who lost his younger sister's bike.

...Sayoko didn't do anything half as bad as Keiichi had done that that day. Megumi had been talking with her about Genji...and she had offhandedly inserted a few critical comments about him...just enough to set off Sayoko. Frenzied, Sayoko shot off to her about how she "wasn't good enough for my younger brother." The verbal fireworks started right after *that* comment.
Megumi looked towards one of the two walldoors that opened into the hallway. Those doors were still uncanny; they seemed to appear out of nowhere in a wall that didn't have hinges, doorknobs, seams, or anything else to indicate that a door was there. She still marveled at the way the wall itself just *opened up* whenever one of the two girls came near it...the doors were more portals than anything else. Taking a deep breath as she walked through the door, Megumi shrugged her shoulders to a feigned audience.
"That story about Keiichi and the bike might be the right thing to break the ice with Sayoko," she thought with a smile as she walked down the hall to the study where Sayoko would probably be.
"Sayoko will probably agree that it's hilarious...that Keiichi waited *eight* years to tell me that he forgot to lock my bike!"

* * * * * * * *

It took a hunger strike on the part of Urd and Skuld to get the point across to their captor that it was totally unnerving Belldandy to be floating naked in their confinement cell all day. Belldandy had become so distraught by her unclothed state that she could barely eat...which gave Urd an idea.
Urd had decided to "call his bluff" and refrain from eating, despite the fact that Aoshima had threatened to use coercion if they refused to eat. Skuld had joined soon afterwards in the hunger strike. Without availing themselves to the only powerup source available, their physical forms naturally began to degrade and lose cohesion.
After three days, Urd and Skuld's corporeal forms had faded to an almost translucent manifestation. They remanifested with the same beautious Goddess figures, for all intents and purposes. But every so often, Belldandy could see *through* her two sisters. She could see through her own hand as well. It wasn't so much a matter of satisfying her appetite in the mortal sense. Her inability to eat was due to psychological trauma. She silently thanked her sisters for standing up for her; it must have been especially hard for Skuld to forgo the ice cream bars and mochi that arrived with each meal tray.
Much to Belldandy's relief, the next day's breakfast came with three sets of blue hospital gowns and matching striped hospital robes. Despite Aoshima's efforts to unnerve them, the two Norns had banded together and won a small victory on behalf of Belldandy. Evidently, with two Goddesses who refused to eat and a third Goddess who was too distraught to eat...it was too much for Aoshima.
"<This means that we have a certain leverage over him,>" Urd thoughtcast victoriously as she drank a gulp of watered-down sake.
"<Yes. When faced with the fact that we might disappear from existence, he backed down. I'm just glad that I have something to cover up with. His horrible eyes...>" Belldandy replied, shuddering at the thought.
"<I must be getting *too* mortal,>" she said dejectedly.
"<Hey! Don't go there, Bell! How many Goddesses do you know that have spent four *entire* years on the Earthrealm performing a wish contract, with no time off...not even being able to take leave? I mean...we're *all* breaking new ground here. You most of all,>" Urd stated, trying to assure her younger sister.
"You know the risks. Cevn told me once about all sorts of psychology research that showed how susceptible mortals are to their environment. Place them in a prison situation and they behave like prisoners. Place them in a position of authority and they become corrupt with greed and powerlust. Place them in a position of subservience to authority, and they will kill each other simply for offering an incorrect answer on a test," Urd explained, shifting from thoughtcasts because it was giving her a headache. Belldandy looked at her with an expression that said "what does that have to do with anything?"
"Yeah, Big Sister. I've noticed that I've become acclimated to all sorts of silly Earthrealm things since I came here. Ice cream. Robotics. Softball and baseball. Shoujo manga. Remember when it was so important that I learned how to ride bicycles?" Skuld offered.
"'Silly' definitely being the operative word in your case," Urd noted sarcastically.
"So I like shoujo manga! At least I don't have *your* depraved tastes in Earthrealm..."
"*Sentaro*," Urd interjected, and then giggled as Skuld's face glowed with a blush that framed her wide-eyed frown. Urd knew that she had hit the target with Cupid's arrow...Sentaro was probably the first boy that had tickled Skuld's heart. Even her sister and Keiichi had joined her in the bushes when she was spying on Skuld, hoping to catch her kissing Sentaro when the two were alone.
"*Am not*!" Skuld said, rankling at Urd's remark.
"Why does Big Sister *always* tease me about him!" Skuld thought resentfully, trying to settle her embarrassment.
"The effects of prolonged exposure to Earthrealm conditions on child Goddesses are demonstrated by a definite fixation of immaturity..." Urd responded, speaking in a 'clinical' voice that dug into Skuld's nerves.
"Y..yy..you just *stop it*, Urd! Even if I was...it doesn't mean anything! I..it's just because I've been here so long," she maneuvered to justify.
"'I was' what, Skuld?"
"I wasn't anything! Besides, Sentaro was just a tomohisa..."
Skuld turned red-faced with panic and covered her mouth...but it was too late. She had slipped and said *his* name. Urd regarded her with a wolfish grin. Even Elder Sister Belldandy was grinning solicitously.
"You mean tomodachi...a friend. *Only* a friend, huh? What Skuld is really saying is that she is heartsick because she misses you-know-who," Urd countered, sidespeaking to Belldandy like an informant as she watched Skuld...who put her fists on her hips in a decidedly aggressive pique.
Belldandy couldn't help but giggle at this...
"I'm not saying another word to you! *Either* of you!" Skuld stated firmly, and then turned her back on her sisters.
Urd floated up close behind Skuld...
"Tomohisa!" Urd shouted into her ear. Skuld wheeled around as expected...the look of confused anger on her face was a priceless gem in Urd's eye.
"OOOooooooo! RRRrrrrrrr!" Skuld growled with high vexation, then deftly reached out and pinched Urd in the nose. And held it.
"Let...go...you...brat!" Urd yelled in a nasally challenged voice. She was surprised that Skuld was able to grab her nose; rarely could her younger sister pull one over on her. She had turned the tables on her...in zero-G, no less!
"Ask nicely and I might consider it," Skuld demanded, milking this situation to her heart's content. Belldandy was looking at the two with a mirthful expression...the deep conversation she was having with Urd a moment ago forgotten in this midst of this development. She was enjoying Skuld's successful pestering of Urd. Usually, it was the other way around.
"Okay okay! I give up," Urd pleaded. Skuld released her grip on Urd's nose.
"Tomohisa!" Urd shouted again. "Skuld and Tomohisa! Skuld and Tomohisa, sittin' in a tree. K..i..s..s..i.."
"SHUT UP!!!"
Urd's little singsong had provoked Skuld into a resentful flurry. With a 'humph!' the Norn of the Future turned her back on Urd and schemed revenge. Urd returned her attention to her other sister.
"She even amazes *me* sometimes! Well, back to more adult conversation. Belldandy, acclimation is something we all learned in FirstTier Inculcation. Remember? When around mortals, it arouses that part of us that once was mortal. You know...in the far recesses of our consciousness. No...that's not right! What I'm trying to say is..." Urd struggled to explain herself.
"<I understand what you're saying, Urd. Being around mortals has brought up certain...sensitivities...that we wouldn't experience otherwise. This is true to an extent. But my love for Keiichi isn't just a 'sensitivity' resulting from being on the Earthrealm. It's *real*!>" Belldandy almost shouted aloud as she thoughtcast the part concerning her and Keiichi.
"And that's why your reaction to that scoundrel Aoshima seeing you naked...is real *too*," Urd argued. "It bothered me too. Normally, I couldn't care a whit if anyone saw any of my physical manifestations, naked or not. But now, a part of me does care...and I've never even made love with a mortal man," Urd admitted.
Belldandy looked at Urd with an expression that said "what does *that* have to do with anything?"
"Look! Let's just face it, Bell. You've been sexually intimate with Keiichi, which brings up all sorts of mortal-type issues. No wonder you're so upset!" Skuld wheeled around to glare at them, looking like she was poised to deliver one of her anti-sex tirades. So Urd hurried her explanation.
"Belldandy, you have to realize what's genuine, and what isn't. What is real...and what is not. Just like those mortals in the psychology experiments who thought that they were caught up in 'reality', so here we are being caught up in mortal reality. And it isn't really half bad. I don't mean *this* reality...I'm thinking of our reality we share back home, back in the right time and place."
"I just wish Keiichi was here," Belldandy said glumly, feeling an emptiness traverse her heart.
"I know, I know. We all do," Urd responded in that soothing manner she sometimes possessed to offer.
Urd was correct, of course. Belldandy was well aware of the hazards of working in the Goddess Relief Office. Wishgranting with mortals exposes a GRO Goddess to the possibilities of starting to *be* mortal in certain ways. Whereas Peorth was suffering from 'Wishout' by becoming too detached from her mortal charges, several other Goddesses had suffered from 'Washout'...becoming *too* attached to their mortal charges. Early on, Belldandy had to ask herself if her feelings for Keiichi had simply been the result of too much exposure to the mortal way of life on the Earthrealm. After a searching introspection, she fearfully realized that her feelings were genuine for him. Her love for Keiichi was unprecedented in the history of the GRO program.
Attachments...yes, this sometimes occurred. Sometimes Goddesses developed relationships outside of the bounds of their wish contracts with mortals. In rare instances, GRO Goddesses had become artistic muses, spiritual advisors, or secret mentors to their charges. But love? All of this had intimidated her as a Goddess. Overcoming some of the very same fears and prejudices Mother was now struggling with, Belldandy had simply let it go...knowing that if her love for Keiichi was meant to be, it *would* be. As events played themselves out, she realized that her heart had steered her true through the seas of her apprehensions.
Now, she was behaving like a mortal woman...much more so than she could have imagined! The unsettling notion of Aoshima seeing her in a sexual light...was every bit as horrible as Tyyr's disgusting behavior towards her during the recent omiai misadventure.
"Could it be...that I have to acknowledge that I have become part mortal...at least in my heart?" Belldandy said to herself.
Urd seemed to regard her with a doubtful expression.
"And if Keiichi *is* the proof that Mankind is reaching the Next Level...then there is no way that I can ever be *too* mortal!" she realized with a sense of pride.
One aspect was a constant...she was proud to be his girlfriend.
Belldandy hugged the lapels of her hospital robe close to her, grateful once again to be wearing *something* to conceal her body from Aoshima's prying eyes.

* * * * * * * *

"My Lord, there are four travelers who insist that they meet with you," the page announced. "They claim to have recently encountered your Lordship on the way to our capital. Not meaning to be disrespectful, but one of their number marks a close resemblance to you."
Lord Mori Yoshiyuke rubbed his moustache thoughtfully, and then looked up at the page.
"Show them in. I did indeed meet a man whose face resembled mine. Perhaps we could train him as a Kagemusha. It would be entertaining to hear his tale, mayhaps."
The page returned to the outer courtyard and told Keiichi and the others that the Lord had bid them enter. Keiichi looked nervously at Genji, who nodded his head confidently.
As they were escorted through the Lord's compound, Cevn marveled at the luxury of the mansion...a sharp contrast to their many temporary lodgings on the way here. The large halls were wrapped in verandahs so wide that ten men could walk abreast on them. The interior courtyard had a small pond and rock garden, meticulously maintained. As they walked down a long hallway, he counted numerous rooms on either side. He had always disregarded as specious the commonly-held theory that class-distinction as a source of resentment and struggle was largely ignored in Medieval Japan. Instead, he held to the opinion that Kyogen and paintings that reflected commoners making fun of their overlords had been preserved for a *reason*...while other works with more serious themes were lost to the ages. Being in a mansion like this...was reason enough to recognize opulence in the midst of misery...for what it really was.
Keiichi felt his anxiety heightening as they were ushered into the inner audience chambers of the daimyo. Armed retainers were everywhere, waiting in orderly formation on lattices of differing heights, like coiling springs. Painted screens were placed strategically, concealing more guards. He noticed a number of aged scrolls mounted on one side of the chamber. The Lord was seated formally on a raised dais, with a small black lacquered writing desk next to him. Behind him was an impressive set of armor. All their carefully rehearsed preparations needed to come off without a hitch if they were to gain his confidence.
"My Lord," Keiichi said with a deep bow. They had decided that he was the logical choice as spokesman. Lord Mori scanned them, and then suddenly sprang to his feet, tipping over his small lacquered armdesk.
"Seize him!" he shouted, pointing at Genji.
Keiichi felt frozen in place.
Genji's face went ashen as several retainers jumped up and parted him from his friends, and then roughly hustled him up close to the Lord. Keiichi felt terror for his friend as he noticed that Mori's reaction was devoid of simple curiosity. The room rankled with a thick air of resentment and paranoia. The guards brusquely forced Genji to his knees.
"Shimazu?" Mori said, pacing back and forth as he regarded Genji with a scowl. Keiichi could see that Genji was barely controlling his fear with a game effort.
Then he noticed that he was surrounded by at least twenty spearpoints...
"Shitshitshit..." his mind reeled.
"Bring me the spying scroll! NOW!" Lord Mori commanded urgently. Several pageboys darted out of the room at a brisk pace.
Genji glanced back at Keiichi. His eyes darted around the room, as he was terrified out of his wits. His friends were surrounded by guards! Suddenly, Lord Mori had assumed the aspect of a mythological Fudo or Hachiman...his intense expression seemed to sap Genji of his confidence by degrees.
"So *this* is true power!" he reflected past his cresting fears. Being the eldest son of a billionaire family, Genji had grown up learning that he was *special*...that his words contained a flow of energy that was missing from the speech of his peers. Yet, accustomed as he was to privilege and deference from his family's business associates, he felt diminished by the force of Lord Mori's concentration. It was the most he could do to fight with himself to keep a calm exterior. Everything was too vivid for him. His mind raced to find an explanation as to why he was suddenly singled out from the others and brought closer to the presence of the daimyo. Lord Mori was darting back and forth, clacking his katana in its sheath with his thumb and forefinger as he scrutinizing him.
The two pages quickly returned with a long scroll. As Lord Mori unrolled it, Genji noted that it contained a series of portraits. He watched as Lord Mori ran his finger down columns of portraits and descriptions, finally stopping at one. It resembled Genji.
"Check his shoulder! The scroll says that Shimazu Tadakuni has a island-shaped birthmark on his left shoulderblade," he commanded. Two retainers almost ripped off Genji's hempen shirt, then shoved him to the floor with a kick, forcing him around so that his back faced Lord Mori.
"It's not him," he heard Lord Mori exclaim in a thin voice. The retainers hefted him to his feet, roughed him up, and then forced him back down to the floor.
"Do you care to explain why you resemble Lord Shimazu?" Lord Mori queried.
"*Who*?" Genji was clearly out of his element. He felt totally confused at the question.
"My Lord, it is obvious that this man's coarse bearing marks him as one of the peasantry!" a retainer noted. Genji watched Lord Mori roll his eyes in exasperation.
"Idiot! Incompetant! Look at his hands! They are as smooth as a newborn babe's...hardly the hands of a farmer!" Lord Mori shouted with a burst of derision. He leaned closer and eyed Genji, inches away from his face. Genji braced himself and refused to flinch.
"Who are *you*?"
"He is a...scientist!" Genji heard Keiichi blurt out. Lord Mori looked at him with an expression of curiosity.
"What is a scientist?"

* * * * * * * *

I felt like I had been to Hades and back. Looking back, I realized how close we had come to being beheaded. We had escaped death by the most gossamer of Fate's threads. Evidently, Genji resembled a neighbor of Lord Mori's...Lord Shimazu. Shimazu Tadakuni, the daimyo of the neighboring province of Hyuga. Hyuga bordered Mori's fiefdom to the south, comprising a large portion of Kyushu.
My nerves were still razor sharp after the whole episode, despite the fact that I was soaking in the guest bath along with Keiichi, Genji and Tomohisa. The water was luxuriating...a much-welcomed comfort after the season of our hardships and travels on the road.
But I was still wrought with anxiety.
As we soaked, Genji disclosed to us why he got so upset at Keiichi when we gave away our few coppers to the beggars. After he finished his explanation, I could easily empathize why it was a sensitive spot with him. Genji's family were multibillionaires...their net worth running to several billion US dollars. As a kid, Genji went through the usual childhood "save my world" phase of determination. He repeatedly entreated his parents to donate to various charities. Despite this principled noblesse, Genji's requests were ignored and rejected as mere childish whims. As Genji explained it, he grew up with a heartfelt resentment towards the fact that his family was so wealthy...and yet, so reluctant to part with even a fraction of their resources to help the poor. His resentment was tempered by a sense of guilt; the Mishima fortune was at once the solution...and the problem. Naturally, his guilt bordered on self-loathing.
Keiichi's comment about him being unfeeling towards those in need was like a knife stab to Genji's heart. In addition to this presentiment of his, the precipitous uncertainty of our existence in this indifferent age and time, where a few coppers meant the difference between having food and shelter or being homeless and starving...had put all of us on edge. Thus, Genji had naturally become exceptionally sensitive compared to the rest of us. In his mind, if we spent the few coppers we had on the beggars, *we* could starve. So in one sense, Keiichi's point was true...Genji had never known want. But yet, Genji had experienced want in a perspective that none of us could identify with.
The want of being able to help.
In unfamiliar grounds with a financially tenacious situation coupled with a proclivity towards charity...no wonder Genji blew up like he did. I was just glad that he had somehow kept his cool around Lord Mori. Following his disclosure, my respect for Genji redoubled; his generosity of character and courage under fire had definitely gained him a couple levels of my admiration.
It took some convincing on the part of Keiichi to impart to Lord Mori the fact that Genji wasn't an enemy of his. Lord Mori was almost sure that Genji was either Lord Shimazu, or an assassin from his rival's family.
Keiichi had performed wonderfully, theatrically explaining our origins. Per our earlier plan, he explained me away as partially deaf-mute with a prodigious nature as far as composing poetry was concerned. The Lord wanted an example of my brushwork, so I provided some linked renga. My calligraphy was no doubt horridly inadequate, but the quality of my poetic composition wasn't wanting...because the poems were from the 15th century. The Lord was suitably impressed with 'my' compositions; these were actually poems that I had memorized from a graduate course in Japanese poetry. This helped make things more believable for Keiichi's next explanation...
The tale of Genji.
Keiichi, in an expert demonstration of ad-libbing, described Genji as a recluse who had been hounded by Tadakuni's retainers. This explanation justified the lack of calluses on his hands, as well as his quick wit. Then Keiichi marveled at the fact that Genji was skilled in designing irrigation, bridges and other wonders. Of course, Lord Mori wanted proof of this, whereupon Genji produced some on-the-spot designs for bridges and dams...and weapons.
Needless to say, Lord Mori was quite impressed with *that* skill.

* * * * * * * *

Belldandy floated over to the niche in the wall where her breakfast awaited. She pulled the plastic cover off of the plate...and saw a *note* partially concealed under an English muffin! Motioning her sisters over with a thoughtcast summons, they read the note.
By this time, it was apparent to all three Goddesses that Aoshima, despite whatever technological wonders he possessed, could *not* read their thoughtcasts. So Belldandy felt that it was safe to share the fact that she had received a note. To her surprise, when Skuld opened her breakfast, another note was enclosed. Finally, Urd found her note rolled up in the neck of her morning sake bottle. All three notes said the same thing:

"Order larger plates of food. We are working on a rescue
plan. Be patient, but be aware that we *will* gain you your
freedom. Do not let anyone see this note. We will write
you again in three days."

* * * * * * * *