Looking at Miori smiling cynically, Rentaro suddenly remembered that he had had a similar conversation with Kisara in the past.
Miori opened up a paint program and used it to draw whiskers on Yasuwaki’s face and shave off his hair, starting to hum as she did so. “Anyway, the self-defense force said things like ‘The undrawn sword is the pride of peace’ to sound stoic and cool, but civilian control stopped working on members of the most aggressive group that had the best results during the Gastrea War, and they started doing things that the old army did. The Seitenshi’s personal guard is like a symbol of that.”
“Civilian…what is…?”
“Well, to put it plainly, they’re bad guys. Also, Satomi dear, guarding a VIP should really be the job of the police, but only the Seitenshi has personal guards at her own expense. But this isn’t all good. Do you know why?”
Rentaro looked Miori in the eye and nodded gravely. “They have no expertise.”
“That’s right.” Miori pointed her fan at his nose. “The Seitenshi personal guard is a young organization that just started its operations a mere ten years ago. Naturally they are less proficient than the Metropolitan Police Department’s security section guards and have not accumulated as much expertise. Above all, ten years ago, the Seitenshi’s personal guards did nothing more than serve as a wall to block the mass media.”
Rentaro was also concerned about that. Even if he was being kind, Rentaro wouldn’t say that the way they coped with the situation at the scene was in any way skilled. He sighed. He had to decide soon. Yasuwaki was more useless than expected. And even more alarming was that he hadn’t learned anything from the assassination attempt.
“To make a mistake and make it again is a mistake,” someone once said. The way things were going, a second assassination incident seemed likely.
Rentaro had to do something himself after all. “Miori, I have a favor to ask. Will you look into Sougen Saitake for me?”
“Why?”
Rentaro hesitated for a second, wondering how much he should tell her, but then shook his head and fixed his eyes on Miori. “He’s the one who hired the assassin. I’m pretty sure of it.”
Miori whistled happily, saying, “Satomi dear, what a thing to say!”
“But I have no proof. Will you collect some from your end?”
Miori said, “Hmm,” and put her hand on her chin. “I’m glad you’re counting on me, but you shouldn’t expect much. Even if it’s what you think it is, unless the head of state of Osaka Area gives some careless order that leaves evidence behind, I’m not going to be able to do much.”
“I won’t be any worse off. Please.”
“Hmm… All right.”
“Thanks.” With that, Rentaro figured he had done everything he came to do. As he thought that and lifted his face, he saw Miori’s face was unexpectedly close to his.
Miori sidled close to Rentaro with flushed cheeks, rested her chin on his chest, and purred. “Hey, Satomi dear, I did what you asked, and I don’t want to say I want this in return, but I want you to show me your real power, too, Satomi dear.” She was surely talking about his power as a soldier of the New Humanity Creation Project.
“Jeez, that has nothing to do with you. Anyway, it’s not something to show other people.”
“Satomi dear, do you like Kisara that much more than me?”
“D-don’t say that!”
Miori was a little put out. “If you forget about Kisara, you can do whatever you want with my body, Satomi dear.” Miori put her smooth hand on Rentaro’s chest and pet it, as if drawing circles on it. She put her body right up against his, and he could just see part of her chest from where the collar met, making him strangely excited. He unconsciously met her moist gaze, and Rentaro’s heart pounded as he turned his face away from hers.
“Please, Miori, stop messing arou—”
Suddenly, there was a roar as the door was kicked open, and Kisara panted at the door and then barged in. “What are you two doing?!” Kisara looked in surprise at Rentaro and Miori, looking back and forth a few times before lowering her gaze, putting power into her hand holding her sword, and making it shake so hard it clattered. Behind her back, the door had fallen inward, and it looked like she had ended up destroying the door after all.
Miori gave a small snort where Kisara couldn’t see, as if thinking of something bad, at the same time pulling the sleeve of her Japanese-style clothes in front of her mouth, posing modestly. “Patience, patience, Kisara!”
“Huh?” Kisara blinked, as if all the spite had left her.
“Dear Satomi and I really, truly didn’t do anything in this room. So don’t misunderstand, Kisara.” Miori fixed the collar of her Japanese-style clothes a few times even though it wasn’t messed up, cheeks flushed.
The sword and gun in Kisara’s hands fell to the ground with a clang at the same time. “No way………”
Miori looked back at Rentaro and said, “Well, Satomi dear, let’s move forward with that, okay?” and ran, departing.
“H-hey, what do you mean, ‘that’?” Rentaro stammered.
Miori stopped and looked back with teasing eyes. “I was talking about how if I give you my body, you would come join my company, Satomi dear. Oh, Kisara. It’s really nothing. Later.” Saying that, she really left the room this time. As she left, she stuck out her tongue where Kisara couldn’t see.
“No way………” Kisara stood with her eyes open in shock, not moving a muscle.
Rentaro pushed down the disturbed feelings in his heart and scratched the back of his head. “H-hey, Kisara, I think you already know this, but that’s just Miori’s way of teasing…… Hey, wait, are you listening?”
Even when he waved his hand in front of her face, her eyes and mouth stayed open, and she didn’t even blink. He wondered how long she had been like that. Finally, Kisara picked up her sword and turned on her heel, walking through the broken door with shaky steps.
“Damn it,” Rentaro cursed, pressing his temple. You really did it this time, Miori. Then, his cell phone vibrated. After he saw who was calling, he put his phone to his ear. “What is it, Doc? I don’t really have time for this right now…”
“Hey, Satomi. Do you have a little time after this? I need to talk to you about something important.” The Gastrea researcher, Sumire Muroto spoke disdainfully.
Rentaro kept his mouth shut and lifted his face, looking at the door Kisara had left through, mumbling, “I guess.”
“Then come now. I want to talk to Enju, too, so bring her with you. Later.”
“Huh? Enju, too?” As he said this, he could already hear the dial tone. Even though he wasn’t satisfied, he contacted Enju, and then looked aimlessly at Kisara’s name in his address book. What the heck? Why did she have to misunderstand like that?
He had an excuse to call her now with the pretext of reporting that he wouldn’t go back to the office but would go straight to Sumire’s. Normally, he wouldn’t think so much about it and would just call her, but for some reason, Rentaro lingered nervously in Miori’s room for a while before finally getting up the courage to call Kisara five minutes later.
After about twenty rings, just when he was about to give up, Kisara finally answered.
“H-hey, Kisara?”
“Who may I ask is speaking?” said an unexpectedly cold voice on the other end of the line.
“Huh? I-it’s me, Rentaro Satomi.”
“Which Satomi?”
“Wh-what?”
She seemed to be bent out of shape. He could easily imagine her on the other end of the phone with her chin lifted in the air, turned huffily the other way, with her arms crossed.
Rentaro scratched the back of his head hard. “Aw jeez, it’s me, the good-for-nothing, weak moron, Satomi! Damn it, that’s what you wanted to hear, right?”
“Oh, that Satomi. I remember now.”
Through the phone, he could hear Kisara chuckle slightly and the pressure in Rentaro’s chest let up just a litt
le. “But you forgot ‘the perverted Satomi who was flirting with Miori,’ you stupid, stupid, stupid idiot.”
Just how stupid does she think I am? “That was a misunderstanding.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Well, it’s not like I care. Even without you, I would be perfectly fine…”
“If I leave, you won’t have any employees.”
He heard a groan on the other end of the line. Apparently, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Oh, I’ll just hire someone new. Because then I won’t have to pay your salary anymore, Satomi.”
He almost retorted, “With that salary?!” but held back and tried to speak calmly. “Um, Kisara, I think you already know this, but most civsec officers are worthless guys who are former criminals or yakuza-types who have nothing to offer but violence, so you’d be in trouble if you ended up hiring someone like that.”
He heard another groan at the other end of the line. Apparently, she hadn’t thought of that, either. “I-I won’t let you have Enju!”
Rentaro was fed up. It was extremely hard to tell her, but Enju didn’t really like Kisara. Once, when he asked her, “What do you think of Kisara?” Enju replied bluntly saying, “Her boobs are an eyesore!”
He didn’t want to boast that Enju liked him more or anything, but if Enju was left to her own devices, he had a hard time finding a reason she would stay with the Tendo Civil Security Agency.
“What about food…? The food you make is gross, isn’t it? You come over to eat once every three days, don’t you? I mean, even on the days you don’t come over, all you eat are boxed lunches and snack breads and other things with unbalanced nutrition, right?”
“What are you talking about? I eat crusts of bread, too!”
Rentaro didn’t say anything. Apparently, she was eating crusts of bread, too.
“Besides, I won’t get fat eating the delicious food you make, so it’ll be a good diet, too.”
Rentaro started to become uneasy. If he quit the Tendo Civil Security Agency, it was possible Kisara would quickly die like a dog by the roadside.
“I mean, what? From what you’re saying, it sounds like I’m just a poor but haughty rich girl who can’t get by on her own and pays low wages while exploiting her employees.”
That was exactly what he was saying, but……
“How unpleasant. Now I’m angry. Even if you cry and shout that you want to return to the Tendo Civil Security Agency, it’s too late! Good-bye!”
With those last words, she hung up on him violently, but not even ten seconds later, she called him back. “……Satomi, you like bugs and animals and stuff, right?”
Unsure of where this new, calmer Kisara was going, he nodded. “Yeah, well…I liked Fabre’s Souvenirs Entomologiques, so I guess that just continued.”
“Then, I’ll tell you a fable so you’ll be able to understand easier. Once, there was a Satomi bug.”
“S-Satomi bug?” He was confused by the sudden appearance of a bug with a name that sounded too much like his own.
“It’s the scientific name. I’m sure it’s because there was a scientist named Satomi somewhere who discovered it first and named it after himself. It has nothing to do with you, Satomi.”
Rentaro didn’t say anything.
“I’ll continue. That Satomi bug was cute as a grub. He was a kind and honest bug who followed the Kisara butterfly, who’ll come out later, around everywhere. However, as he matured, he grew impertinent, and started saying foul things like ‘What the hell?’ Satomi, what do you think after listening to this story objectively?”
“That bug can talk…?”
“Yes, it’s fluent in Japanese.”
Rentaro had no words.
“I’ll continue. One day, the Miori bug appeared in front of the Satomi bug and started to seduce him. This bug was a relative of toilet crickets and cockroaches, a poisonous bug that serves as a carrier for smallpox, malaria, and the Black Death! Oh, but this has nothing to do with Miori.”
The story that was hard to comment on continued. Anyway, crickets were in the order Orthoptera with grasshoppers, and cockroaches were part of the order Blattodea, so they were actually completely different organisms and not related.
“Gallantly appearing on the scene was the Kisara butterfly you heard about earlier. To make a long story short, the Kisara butterfly was a Space God, a messenger of god. By the way, she was supercute, cuter than the Miori bug, at least. The only one who could save the Satomi bug from the evil clutches of the Miori bug was the Kisara butterfly. And to the Kisara butterfly, it was a little sad to think that the Satomi bug who had been with her since they were little would be taken away. In other words, the Satomi bug would become happy by being with the Kisara butterfly. Satomi, what do you think after objectively listening to this story so far?”
Rentaro was starting to get a headache. She wasn’t telling this story about bugs and butterflies because she wanted to say that last line, was she? “Just stop being mad already.”
“It’s not like I’m trying to make up, or anything.”
Rentaro was starting to get annoyed. “Hey, Kisara, will you stop already? I’m not going to Miori’s place, and I’m going to keep working at your place like I have until now.” He realized his slip of the tongue too late and gave a start.
“I don’t want you to work for me out of pity! Hmph!”
The angry sound of the phone being hung up made Rentaro think he messed up, and he slumped and hung his head. This wasn’t what he was trying to say. He seemed to have been in the student council room for a long time, and when he went outside, the setting sun was dyed a bright red.
Picking up Enju at the statue in front of the school where they had arranged to meet, he continued on foot to Magata University Hospital, where Sumire was.
“Enju, be careful.” As he walked past the reception desk and into the university hospital hallway, he looked next to him.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know why Doc told even you to come. I have a bad feeling about it.”
“Really? It has been a long time since I have been able to see Sumire, so I am looking forward to it.”
Watching Enju swing her fists happily up and down, Rentaro sighed. He had a feeling that even if he looked all over the world, Enju would be the only human who looked forward to seeing Sumire.
Going down the clean, swept hall for a while, they went down the familiar staircase to the basement. As usual, it was dim and smelled strongly of room fragrance, but today, Rentaro could hear a piercing laugh on top of that. The voice that bounced off the walls and reached Rentaro’s earlobes sounded like the maniacal laughter of a witch, and even Rentaro, who was used to coming here, hesitated.
Fed up, he passed the demon-engraved people-warding objects and found Sumire spread out on top of the table laughing uncontrollably. As she moved about on the table, she pushed off test tubes and beakers, and they broke with a crash.
“Hey, Rentaro, look at this article! The yakuza were tricked by the April Fools’ joke about immigrating to the moon and started buying up land on the moon to sell. They’re such dreamers even though they’re yakuza! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Rentaro’s chest was already filled with the feeling of wanting to go home. The world-renown doctor, Sumire Muroto, had a side of severe necrophilia to the point where she expanded a morgue without permission just so she could live with the corpses.
“Sumire, we came to play!”
Enju waved her hand happily, and Sumire sat up, pushing up her hair, which had been allowed to grow as much as it wanted. And then she sat cross-legged on top of the table, brushing aside the hem of her lab coat, spreading both arms dramatically. “Welcome, Rentaro, Enju. Welcome to my nightmare.”
Sumire looked back and forth between Enju’s and Rentaro’s faces with an ecstatic expression. “Rentaro, you would be better mummified than stuffed, after all. Kisara would definitely be better stuffed than mummifie
d. If she were mummified, then her boobs would stick out, so it wouldn’t look good. Enju……would be fine as a mummy. Yup.”
“Hmph, what part of me were you looking at when you said that?”
“I don’t care who it is, but won’t one of you die soon? I’m about to die from lack of corpses here. Oops, I almost forgot. It’s been a while, Rentaro. You have an unfortunate face, as usual. It’s depressing just looking at it. Sorry, but could you get some plastic surgery on that face by tomorrow? I can’t stand looking at it anymore.”
“Am I really that depressing?!”
Sumire stood up and stuffed coffee beans into the coffeemaker, put a beaker under it to catch the coffee, and turned it on. When she did, the room echoed the sound of the mill grinding the beans.
“More importantly, Rentaro, I heard you’re doing an escort job or something interesting like that?”
“Word travels fast.”
“I don’t know much about stuff like that, but I heard you’re up against a sniper this time? I always thought you knew a great deal about sniping. I mean, you are a man with the concentration to gaze at a young girl going to school through binoculars on the second floor, combined with the marvelous patience to wait until a dad brings his daughter into the hot springs. You should be called Love Sniper, you Lolita-complex bastard! Die!”
“There’s no truth in any of what you just said!”
Enju looked at Rentaro with excited eyes. “Is that true, Rentaro?”
“No! Stop it! Don’t give me that look! Anyway, Doc, thanks to you making up stories and spreading them around, Enju thinks they’re funny and broadcasts them to the people who live in our apartment building, which is problematic. You know, the other day when I went to take out the trash one of our neighbors suddenly spit on me! What are you going to do about that?!”
“Yeah, I calculated ahead of time that that would happen when I spread the stories to Enju.”
Against a Perfect Sniper Page 9