Truancy City

by Isamu Fukui

  “We crossed paths one winter, when we were both kids on the run,” she said. “We learned from each other … brought warmth into each other’s lives. I think we were as close as either of us had ever been.”

  Takan hesitated. “Do you still love him?”

  The albino turned her head away. “Yes.”

  “Two, if that’s true then you should let us—”

  “You don’t trust me to keep my head?” She smiled, sipping from the bottle. “You misjudge me, Four.”

  “It’s not that.” Takan frowned. “The Mayor is not the same boy who mentored me. If he draws his weapon on you, he’ll be going for a kill.”

  “You’re probably right,” she admitted. “But someone has to take responsibility for him. If anyone can claim to do that, it is me.”

  Takan sighed in acceptance.

  “And what about your son?” he asked, raising the water to his lips.

  “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” the albino said. “If this mission goes all wrong and something happens to me, I would like you to look after Zen.”

  Takan nearly choked on his mineral water. He sputtered and coughed, sending it spraying out onto the rooftop. The albino regarded him calmly as he pounded his chest.

  “Excuse me?” He coughed.

  “It’s very unlikely that you’ll have to,” she said with a smile. “But it seems unwise for me not to make sure.”

  Takan swallowed. “Am I really your first choice for this?”

  “To be perfectly honest, you’re not,” the albino admitted. “But you’re the best and most able person available at the moment.”

  Takan frowned. “All right, you have my word—but please, for my sake now, try not to get killed.”

  She stifled a laugh. “As you wish.”

  Takan looked down at his feet where the bottle had fallen. Its contents had spilled into a small puddle around him. He sighed. There was nothing left for him to even drink now. Nothing to do but wait.

  * * *

  “There you go, kid, enjoy your stay.”

  Cross stumbled into the courtyard as the gates clanged shut behind him. The soldiers had taken their time getting to the camp, and it was now almost night.

  “What about my friend?” Cross demanded, turning to his escort. “The Mayor promised that I’d be able to see her here.”

  “You’ve been assigned to the same class,” the soldier replied. “You’ve got an evening session coming up—if you can’t wait until then, just look around and you’ll find her.”

  “Look around where?”

  The soldier waved his arm to encompass the courtyard. “Out there!”

  Cross glanced at his surroundings. The courtyard was vast, built from a large section of the empty waterfront of District 13. The ground had not been repaired, there were cracks in it, and bits of concrete and asphalt were crumbling from lack of maintenance. As Cross watched, students in gray uniforms swept the ground, collecting the debris and disposing of them in bags. Soldiers watched over everything from the towers surrounding the yard.

  Cross turned around. “How am I supposed to find—”

  He paused. The soldier was already gone, having joined his comrades in the guardhouse. Cross shook his head and took a step forward into the courtyard. Before arriving he had changed into a student’s uniform, and an electric device had been attached to his leg. He’d been told that it would administer a shock in case he misbehaved.

  As Cross walked through the courtyard he found that though his uniform blended in, it seemed that he was the only one with nothing to do. All the other students seemed to be cleaning the grounds, making small chat in whispers as they did. It was a joyless atmosphere. Everyone knew that they were being watched, and both the run-down buildings that served as dormitories as well as the renovated buildings where classes were held served as a reminder of their situation.

  Cross paused as he recognized a couple of faces staring at him—members of the Student Militia, he recalled, though he couldn’t place their names. He nodded at them, and they averted their eyes.

  Cross sighed and continued walking through the courtyard, his hands in his pockets, discreetly looking around for any sign of Floe. Somewhere he could hear the screaming of a student receiving an electric shock. No one looked up from their work. There was no spirit here, Cross realized. The camps were doing their jobs.

  A cool breeze from the nearby river swept over Cross, and he spotted a small commotion apparently unnoticed by the guards. In one corner of the courtyard three kids had surrounded another, and by their body language he could tell there was trouble. Cross looked around—no one else seemed to care, either not noticing or deliberately ignoring the confrontation.

  Cross removed his hands from his pockets and began walking towards the commotion. When he was a dozen paces away, he paused. The aggressors were jabbing at their victim with broom handles as she curled up in the corner, her arms raised to shield herself. The victim was a girl with brown hair.

  His heart pounding, Cross called out to them.

  “Hey, you!”

  The bullies, two boys and one girl, turned to face him. Their victim wearily turned her head to look at him, and then seemed to freeze. Cross clenched his jaw. It was Floe.

  “What do you want, kid?” one of the boys demanded.

  Cross pointed at Floe. “What did she do to you?”

  “We spotted her chatting up the guards,” the female bully replied. “She’s been snitching!”

  Cross glanced at Floe in surprise. Floe shook her head vigorously, her eyes pleading. Cross turned back to the bullies.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said. “I know her. She wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “Yeah?” The larger boy advanced upon Cross. “Maybe you’re a snitch too, then? Are you going to tell the guards on us?”

  Cross took a deep breath and swallowed his anger. A month ago he would have fought these three kids without a second thought. He had changed a lot since then, and he knew that a fistfight wouldn’t do him or his mission any good.

  “If I am a snitch,” Cross said calmly, “then attacking me would guarantee I report you. But if I’m telling the truth, then you’re bullying an innocent girl. Either way, it’d be best for everyone if you left now.”

  The three bullies seemed to size up Cross for a moment. Apparently deciding that he wasn’t going to be intimidated, they shrugged at one another and walked away. One of them deliberately bumped his shoulder into Cross. He ignored it.

  When they were gone, Cross hurried over to Floe and helped her up. She had lost weight—she looked almost pitifully small as she stared up at him. There were dark rings under her eyes, and her normally sleek hair was frazzled and dirty. She took one look at him with haunted hazel eyes. Then she burst into tears.

  “Floe!” Cross said, shocked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I hoped th-that at least y-you’d escape,” she sobbed. “But even y-you—”

  “It’s not what you think.” Cross shook her gently. “I wasn’t caught. I came here to see you.”

  “You did what? To see— NO!” Floe cried harder than ever. “Oh no, it’s all my fault! All my fault!”

  Without thinking, Cross swept her into an embrace, holding her tight. She struggled for a moment, wriggling against him. Then she seemed to relax, crying against his chest. Cross patted her on the back, not knowing what to do or say. He had never been in a situation like this before.

  “Listen, Floe,” he whispered in her ear. “We are going to escape from here. I have people coming to help; I need to know if there’s any way we can start a riot in the courtyard.”

  To Cross’ surprise, Floe jerked backwards, staring at him in dismay.

  “You mustn’t say things like that!” Floe said urgently. “You can’t say things like that! I … we’re supposed to report things like that … you can’t…”

  Cross stared. “Floe, what’s gotten into you?”

  F
loe blinked at him, and he could see terror in her eyes. Then she shook her head, and took a deep rattling breath. She looked at him again, this time with some clarity.

  “I’m sorry.” Floe shook her head. “The teachers here reward you for reporting other students, I’d gotten so used to it that…”

  Floe trailed off. Cross clenched his fists. This wasn’t like the Floe he knew at all, who had always been spunky and loyal even in the darkest of times.

  “Floe,” Cross asked gently. “What did they do to you?”

  “Not much.” Floe’s eyes filled again with tears. “I gave up so easily. I wasn’t ever strong like Noni was, and even she was broken in the end. They pumped her full of chemicals to do it.”

  “Noni?” Cross blinked. “She’s here too?”

  Floe laughed bitterly. “Not only was she captured, but she’s the star of the class now. You’ll see, Cross. You’ll see that there’s no hope here for—”

  Cross couldn’t help himself. Realizing how bad the damage was, wanting to do anything to make it better, Cross pulled Floe to him and kissed her. Her eyes flew open, her arms tightened around him, and for the first time that night it seemed to Cross that she looked truly alive. It was like a wildfire had sprung up between them, twisting them both into knots of flame. After a few moments, Floe pulled away, breathless.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” Cross promised. “I’m here, I understand. It’s going to be all right.”

  The barest hint of a familiar smile tugged at Floe’s lips. Then, blaring out over the entire courtyard, the sound of a bell rang out—the signal for the start of evening classes. Cross felt Floe’s fingers dig into his arms. She didn’t want to leave.

  “It’s okay,” Cross repeated. “I’ve been assigned to the same class. We’ll be together.”

  Floe looked him in the eyes. “Promise that you’ll stay this time.”

  Was this a dream? It felt like it as Cross gazed back at her. For years Cross had been so repressed that he’d believed he could never be capable of love. But now, in the midst of suffering, here in the wasteland of the courtyard, Cross felt a surge of passion beyond reason, and he realized what he’d been denying himself for years.

  “Always,” Cross swore.

  * * *

  Obeita yawned as she entered the classroom. She nodded at the soldier standing guard, then moved to her desk where her extra large chair was waiting. The students were already cuffed to their seats, pencils and paper out. They all looked tired, which was how Obeita liked it. By her personal recommendation, the intensive course always met before bed, every day of the week.

  Obeita sank into her chair and looked out at her class with pride. She felt entitled to a little pride—after all, they were hers now, every one of them changed permanently by her painstaking tutelage. That feeling of satisfaction, of ownership, had been what attracted her to the teaching profession.

  As Obeita surveyed her students, she realized that something was wrong. A redheaded boy that she did not know was cuffed to the desk next to Floe. She scowled.

  “Private, who is that boy and what is he doing in my class?” Obeita demanded, turning to the soldier.

  The man shrugged. “He’s an emergency transfer. I was told that the Mayor informed you of the special circumstances already.”

  Obeita thought about that. She did remember that a notice had come in from the Mayor’s office that evening, but she had been too busy to read it. Obeita shook her head in irritation. She hated it when Mayors interfered with her work.

  “Very well,” she said, glaring at the newcomer. “What’s your name, boy?”

  The boy responded in a neutral voice. “Cross.”

  The name was familiar. It took Obeita a moment before she recognized the name of the former leader of the Student Militia—and an old student of hers from fourth grade. Obeita smiled. She might have to thank the Mayor after all.

  “This is a pleasant reunion, Cross,” she said. “Do you know the rules here?”

  “Yes, Ms. Obeita.”

  Obeita grinned. Apparently he recognized her as well.

  “All right then,” she announced. “Everyone, take out your calculus textbooks.”

  The students hastened to do as ordered. Just then, the door opened again and another soldier entered. Obeita turned to see a handcuffed Noni coming in from her evening chemical treatment. Obeita smiled. The girl looked so compliant as she came through the door, so much so that Obeita felt like showing off.

  “Noni,” she said. “Come stand up in front of the class, dear.”

  Obeita nodded at the soldier, and he promptly left, allowing Noni to walk up to the front of the room. Obeita gloated as she saw the eyes of the other students fix upon Noni with hatred—she had after all risen to the top of the class by turning in her classmates. Then Obeita noticed Noni staring at Cross.

  Obeita smiled. “Why yes, dear, we do have a new student today. That is Cross, the leader of the Student Militia.”

  Cross nodded in greeting, though Noni gave no response.

  “Cross, this is Noni, the current star of my class,” Obeita said sweetly. “You would do well to follow her example—her progress is already making me famous, isn’t that right, Noni?”

  Noni smiled at her. “I’m very glad, ma’am.”

  Obeita could see that Cross looked stricken.

  “Now, Noni, go take your seat,” she ordered.

  The girl obediently went to her desk behind Cross, where she allowed the soldier to recuff her to the chair. Obeita nodded, pleased.

  “Everyone, to accommodate our new student we’re going to begin a fresh session,” Obeita announced. “Open your books and start doing problems one through twenty on page four-seventy-nine. You have half an hour.”

  The students opened their books, took out their pencils, and began scribbling away on their papers. Obeita was happy to see that even Cross went about his work with apparent diligence. She leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head, totally relaxed as the students toiled away.

  Five minutes later, Noni raised her hand. Knowing what that meant, Obeita smiled and nodded at her.

  “Ma’am, Cross is scribbling nonsense on his paper instead of doing his work,” Noni said, pointing at the offending writing.

  Cross looked shocked. Obeita grinned at her old student, then turned to the soldier. The soldier pressed a button on a remote, and Cross let out a cry of pain as he received a moderate zap.

  “Just a warning, Cross,” Obeita told the boy. “You’re new to this class, so we’ll let you off easy.” She turned to Noni. “Thank you, dear, that means extra points for you.”

  Obeita could see resentment and what looked like disappointment on Cross’ face as he returned to work. It had been a long time since fourth grade. Clearly, her new class hadn’t been what Cross was expecting. That pleased Obeita. She now had the chance to redo his education all over again, and it was that learning process that Obeita loved.

  A few minutes later, Obeita was surprised to see Noni’s hand shoot up again. Obeita sat forward in her chair, leaning over her teacher’s desk.

  “Yes, Noni, what is it now?” she asked.

  “Floe has been neglecting her work, ma’am,” Noni said. “She’s been glancing over at Cross instead of keeping her eyes on her paper.”

  Obeita blinked, then glared at Floe, who looked both guilty and frightened. Obeita nodded at the soldier, and Floe let out a whimper just before the shock hit her. She screamed, then slumped onto her desk, face buried in her textbook. Cross looked furious.

  “You should know better than that, Floe,” Obeita scolded. “Pay attention to your work—you’re here to learn, not to socialize!”

  Floe mumbled an apology and shakily picked up her pencil again. Cross seethed for a few moments longer, and for a moment Obeita considered giving him another shock as well. Then he took a deep breath and returned to his work.

  Another ten minutes passed without disruption. Obeita fanned her
self with a notebook. The air was hot and stuffy in here, and none of the classrooms had air conditioning. Noni closed her book and raised her hand. This time almost the entire class glared at her.

  Obeita smiled. “Yes, Noni?”

  “I’ve finished my work, ma’am.”

  Obeita felt another swell of pride. Noni was a smart girl, and it hadn’t taken long for Obeita’s instruction to bring the best out in her. It occurred to Obeita that it would be a good way to crush Cross’ spirit by doting on the successful rival he clearly disliked.

  “Private, please uncuff Noni and bring her to the front of the room,” Obeita told the soldier. “I would like her to put her answers up on the board for extra credit. The rest of the class could learn well from her example.”

  The soldier moved over to Noni’s desk. He unlocked her handcuffs, and followed her to the front of the class. Like the proper student she was, Noni brought her paper and pencil. Obeita grinned at Cross as he followed Noni with an angry glare. Ignoring him, Noni reached the board, looking down at her paper as she chewed on her pencil eraser.

  Then she spun around and plunged her pencil into the soldier’s eye.

  * * *

  It was so sudden that Cross almost didn’t believe his eyes. After watching Noni betray both him and Floe to Obeita for imaginary points, Cross had been convinced that Floe had been right and the former Truant was totally brainwashed—perhaps irredeemably. The vacant expression on Noni’s face and the extent of her robotic subservience had genuinely disappointed him.

  Noni wore a look of utmost fury as she drove the pencil deeper into her victim. Cross watched with mingled horror and fascination as she threw the injured man to the ground and jumped on his throat. Obeita seemed dumbstruck, staring at the scene with mouth agape. Noni retrieved the keys and remote from the slain soldier and unlocked the device around her ankle.

  Snapping back to her senses, Obeita began waddling frantically towards her desk, where a panic button had been installed. Noni caught her before she took three steps. The teacher opened her mouth to scream, only to have the electric device stuffed into it. Then Noni ruthlessly pressed a button on the soldier’s remote.