NaNoWriMo 2007 (sequel to 2005) - Anime-Style Story - Chapter 12

[kashiwrites]

Chapter 11


Chapter 12

Toshi was hovering around Security again; Miaki could see the yellow dot, faintly, out near the perimeter of the system. He wasn’t exactly sure what he meant to do, logging in right now, but it was simply a relief to escape his aunt’s accusations.

She was right, of course. This was his fault. He’d come to the school last year with only one thing on his mind: revenge for his father’s death. And because of that, Toshi and the others had gotten dragged into his personal tragedy. Never mind that everything had worked out all right, the conspiracy discovered and the world saved, and his father’s killer sent to jail. His five friends’ lives had been in danger, and Aunt Keiko was justifiably upset that her son had been in that kind of danger because of his cousin.

Miaki knew she loved him. She had been so kind and comforting, all those months he had endured after the trauma of his father’s death, trying to pull himself together. She had been mercy incarnate, in fact.

But he wasn’t her blood – he was her husband’s blood. And Toshi was her only child. She’d tried very hard to be fair, even after what had happened last year, but to come here now and see her son lying so still on a stretcher, and know that yet again it was because of Miaki’s own problems – well, everyone had a limit, didn’t they? And this was hers. He understood. He didn’t blame her at all. In fact, he blamed himself for what had happened to Toshi, far more than she did.

And he wanted to get Toshi free and cured just as much as she wanted it. So there was no point in standing there watching her cry, was there? Never mind how it hurt to see how she had looked at him before turning back to Toshi on the stretcher. That wasn’t important. What was important was that he had to do something. For her sake as well as Toshi’s.

So he set out toward the Security perimeter. He realized immediately that if he could see Toshi more clearly, because of the indicator ring, then Toshi was probably able to see him as well, since he was still wearing his pendant. There had been other ways, last time, that Toshi could see him coming, but this was more obvious. And because of that, he expected to see the yellow dot begin to move, trying to get away.

But Toshi didn’t appear to be running; in fact, he stayed put for a while, and then, unnervingly, the dot started moving closer. Miaki watched uneasily as he sped along the network connections, wondering if he was about to be attacked.

Jin popped into existence beside him. “You could have waited,” she commented, matching his pace.

“I didn’t expect anyone to come in with me,” Miaki said, still watching the yellow indicator drawing closer.

“It’s dangerous for you to come in by yourself.”

“I know. Sorry.” He favoured her with a slight smile, grateful that she wasn’t lecturing him about not letting his aunt’s accusations get to him. He knew she was thinking it.

They found Toshi lounging in the windowed hallway that contained all the security programs and encircled the rest of ISCE’s network. He was staring out at the constellations spread brilliantly against the blackness of space.

“Think we’ll ever get out there?” he remarked, not looking over as the other two approached.

Jin motioned Miaki to be silent, and stepped to Toshi’s side, leaning back against the window. “I think so,” she said. “I’m certainly training for it.”

“So was I,” Toshi murmured.

“How are you doing?” she asked, adding curiously, “Is it hard, being in here all the time? I’ve never thought of it.”

He shrugged. “I slept a while. I didn’t think I would. But the rest of the time, it’s…interesting. Never boring. And,” he turned a sharp, smiling look on his cousin, “I do have a goal, after all.”

Miaki bit his lip, keeping his mouth shut. Jin remarked, “I think I’d probably spend at least a week exploring the system infrastructure if I was in here without going outside. That alone would be fascinating. Then I’d start playing in the simulations. Have you found any evidence, yet, that the real-world simulations are still around and locked away somewhere?”

“I haven’t looked, but I’m sure I’ll get around to it. Think of the fun I can have then!”

Miaki wanted to say something – issue a warning, beg him not to go into one of those simulations – there were so many cautions he wished he could give. But he just didn’t dare. It was bad enough that he was nearby at all.

And Toshi knew that perfectly well. He chatted with Jin a little longer, then fixed a knowing smile on his cousin’s avatar. “Still hiding behind everyone else, I see. You coward.”

Miaki averted his face. “I just don’t want to aggravate you, that’s all.”

“Too late,” Toshi smiled.

“Well then,” Miaki said. “Maybe I should ask if you’d be interested in doing a little work examining the interface between the virus, your avatar, and the system itself. Do you still want to do that?”

Toshi regarded him warily. “I might. If Jin does the work.”

Miaki couldn’t believe how well this encounter was going; he’d envisioned all sorts of negative scenarios, but Toshi seemed surprisingly cooperative.

He stood back as Jin and his cousin called up several holoscreens. Jin showed Toshi the data they’d processed so far, and he examined it with much of his usual interest. This was, after all, the sort of investigation he loved to do and was so good at. He made a few suggestions, and Jin incorporated them.

“Let me run a test,” she said, “and see if the lock on your logout is as tight as before.”

She initiated a program run, and she and Miaki watched intently as Toshi closed his eyes, a faint rippling running momentarily through his avatar. But when he opened his eyes, he shook his head. “I felt a bit of tugging,” he said, “but nothing else. The problem is partly that the virus is intertwining me with the system just enough that I almost am the network.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jin frowned.

He elaborated, “Not in the sense of losing my identity or being absorbed into the network. But at a really sub-sub-sub-level, there’s been a rewrite of my I.D. so subtle that I can’t log out any more than the operating system can log out of itself. The real bedrock stuff is glued together. So I’m pretty stuck. And then,” he added, “there’s the problem that the virus extends outward too, essentially into my brain.” He laughed a little. “Right now, the network and I are like conjoined twins. And we share so many organs in common now, that I don’t think we can be separated.”

“Don’t say that,” Miaki blurted. “We’re going to separate you. We just haven’t figured out how, yet.”

“Right,” Toshi smiled narrowly. “Godlike Miaki has a plan, as always. Do you have a plan, by the way?”

Miaki looked away. “Not yet,” he muttered. “We’re still working on it.”

“Then don’t make promises you don’t know you can keep,” Toshi snapped.

“I do intend to keep it. I don’t care if you believe me.” Miaki looked at him again. “By the way…Aunt Keiko and Uncle Takumi just arrived, before I got online.”

Toshi pushed himself away from where he was still leaning back against the window, and glared at his cousin. “Dammit, Miaki! What the hell are you doing, bringing them here? Scaring them to death! You know how upset mother would be about all this. How dare you worry her like that?”

Miaki’s chin came up. “They had to be notified about what was going on, Tosh. It was time. And Mr. Woon agreed – even though I suggested it, he had already been planning on calling them here.”

“’It was time’,” Toshi repeated, eyes narrowed. “So. Godlike Miaki doesn’t really think I’m going to get out of here after all. My parents have been called here to say good-bye and watch me die, haven’t they?”

“No!” Miaki cried, and then calmed himself, clenching his fists. “No,” he said more quietly. “I thought they should be here in case they could help you get out. Help pull you out from the real-world side.”

“You bloody liar. You know that’s impossible. If they could have any influence at all, you can bet I’d have sensed somehow that they were here. But I have no sensation of my real body at all. None. So you’ve just worried them for nothing, damn you.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Miaki said. “I still wanted them here.”

“You wanted them here,” Toshi retorted. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Whatever godlike Miaki wants, he gets.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that,” Miaki muttered.

“Well, it’s as good a description as any,” Toshi growled.

“No it’s not, because it’s just not true.”

“Well, I know that – and maybe sometimes in your secret soul, you know that, though I doubt it. But does the rest of the world know it? Not a chance. Not one bloody chance.”

“I’m sorry – if I could do something about that – “

“Do you know,” Toshi growled again, his anger finally beginning to rise, “just how sick I’ve been of everything being about you?”

“Toshi,” Jin interjected softly. “Maybe this isn’t a good thing to get into. It’s not going to do you any good – “

“It’s going to do me a lot of good!” he shook his head. “Because I’m finally getting to say what I’ve wished I could say for months, maybe years. Do you have any idea, Jin, what it’s been like living in his shadow my entire life? At school, among our friends, even in the family – "

“That’s not true!” Miaki burst out.

“You know what people have said to me, my entire life? ’You’re Miaki’s cousin? Wow, aren’t you lucky! What’s it like being able to see and talk to him all the time? Is he really as smart as they say?’” Toshi’s eyes glittered like glass, his avatar reflecting all the emotions he was feeling. “And then there’s the disappointment when they meet me and realize I’m not him. ‘What, you’re not Miaki? Okay, do you know how we can get in touch with him?’”

“Toshi,” Jin said. “Was it really as bad as that? Think. Isn’t this partly the virus talking?”

“No. You didn’t see what it was like here, at ISCE, my first year. ‘Wait – you’re not Miaki Nakamura? You’re just his cousin? We’d heard he was coming here this year, so why didn’t he come? Please tell us he’s still coming next year, so we can meet him and see how great he is.’ It was all I heard, almost the entire first year.”

Miaki bowed his head. “Tosh – I’m sorry. You never told me it was like that.”

“Why should I have? What was so different about it? It was what I’d been hearing my whole life, so why was this time any more important? Oh, except for that one thing. Poor little Miaki wasn’t at school that year because his father was dead.”

Miaki’s head shot up and he stared at his cousin, heart constricting in pain. Jin, seeing his distress, said quickly, “Oh now, really, that’s uncalled for – “

But Toshi hardly heard her. “Poor little Miaki,” he repeated. “So we couldn’t distress him, couldn’t complain, couldn’t say anything. And when he finally did get to school, oh how wonderful it was, everyone could pity him and admire him all at once. And then – all in a day’s work – he goes and saves the world too, and puts his father’s killer in jail on top of that. And he even lets his cousin tag along for the adventure, as he always does. Isn’t he wonderful!”

Miaki realized Jin was turning toward him as she recognized that he was crumbling, but he couldn’t look at anything but Toshi. He had never seen such an expression of naked hatred on anyone’s face, not in his life, not even last year with Kenji’s father. Surely there must be blood gushing down his chest, so huge and painful was the wound in his heart.

“That’s not – I never meant – Toshi – I’m sorry – I’m so – “

“Oh shut up. Just shut up. I’m sick of the sound of your voice! Why don’t you go away? I’m so tired of you!”

“Please – let’s talk about this – “

“I said go away!” Toshi yelled. With the flick of his wrist, he called up an odd force from somewhere, and flung it, a huge glowing ball, at Miaki.

It engulfed Miaki’s avatar in an instant. It didn’t hurt exactly, not at first. But it pricked him with what felt like a hundred tiny pins, and then a thousand, and then ten thousand. In mere seconds he felt like his skin was on fire, and backed away, slapping his hands all over his body, shrieking.

“Log out!” Jin cried. “Right now, Miaki! Get out of here!”

He obeyed as quickly as he could, Toshi’s laughter abruptly cut off as he came back to his real-world body. He ripped off the gloves, boots, and goggles, rubbing his skin as the sensation of pricking and burning only slowly faded. He shoved his sleeves up his arms and gaped in horror at the countless tiny, pinprick-sized welts springing up all over him.

The other people were all still there, his friends busy working at their terminals, and his aunt and uncle sitting beside the stretcher talking to the nurse and Mr. Woon, who sat on the other side of it.

But Julie looked over and saw his arms, and cried, “Miaki! What happened in there?” springing out of her chair.

Jin was already at his side. “Toshi threw something at him.”

“Damn,” Julie said. “We’ll have to protect him better.”

Miaki had begun to shake, leaning over, fists between his knees. While the angry red welts remained, the burning was dying down very quickly. But he was so weak – so shaky!

“Miaki.” This was Mr. Woon, who now appeared beside his chair, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What happened to you? Tell us what occurred inside the system.”

He could hardly speak. He felt so weak. Toshi had attacked him, so casually, so easily, without even thinking about it.

He could sense his aunt’s and uncle’s eyes on him. He couldn’t look at them.

“He – he hates me,” Miaki faltered, his voice faint. “Toshi hates me. He’s always hated me. He hates me.”

He pulled himself out of his chair, mindlessly batting the helping hands away. As though he were drunk, he lurched away from his terminal, grabbing the sides of cubicles to keep him on his feet, and finally staggering to the door where he sagged against the doorframe.

He felt himself going down, and found himself on his hands and knees, where he vomited until he thought he would bring up his bones and hurl them onto the floor.


Chapter 13