“We are all part of the Empire,” Narelle Z states. “But we are also the true inheritors of the American legacy, blessed by our Emperor whose vision of a unified world is prevented by the evil Third Reich. Tonight, we honor the memories of the Twelve and swear by our blood to do everything we can to protect the United States of Japan the way they did.”
We’re asked to cut our fingers with a ceremonial dagger and let our blood drip into the holy cup. That’s mixed with a special sake, then redistributed into sake cups. We lift them up with both hands. The priestess speaks in a dialect I’ve never heard though I recognize some of the words as having Japanese roots. Finally, she signals us to drink.
The sake is strong enough that it dominates the taste and burns all the way down my throat to my stomach. We turn the cups upside down, showing we’ve finished the drink. It’s a symbolic move that gets approving grunts from the Circle members.
“The Navy wanted to control us,” Narelle Z continues. “The Army believed they should be in charge. It was only thanks to the vision and struggle of the Twelve Disciples that we were given our own branch in the armed forces. You have all taken a blood oath to do everything you can to protect the USJ.
“But with the power bestowed on us, we must always keep vigilant as we stand watch over the corps. In our history, there are seventeen battles we never speak of, nine Excoriated that will not just be erased from the annals, but forever vilified for their treachery. Your best is not good enough. You will go above and beyond what you believe are your capacities. Empowered by the Emperor, we are eternally grateful to him for the opportunity to serve the citizens of the Empire.” She points to the flag of the rising sun above and bows. We all do the same. “Tenno Heika Banzai!”
We shout back, “Tenno Heika Banzai!” as loud as we can.
“We don’t haze or do pointless rushing,” she tells us. “That you’re here means you’ve shown the discipline and sacrifice necessary to get here. But there has to be trust. For the next part of the initiation, we will blindfold you, and you will feel excruciating pain for a given time. At any point, you can ask us to stop, and we will. But you will forfeit your membership in this Circle, and you will not be a pilot. There is no shame in that choice. We will respect whatever decision you make.”
We are blindfolded again, escorted to another location. I wonder what will happen. It’s the not being able to see that makes it worse as the sense of fear amplifies my imagination. Will they beat us? Will they drown us underwater? I’ve heard the Navy Circle does that. That’s when we hear one of the cadets screaming. His pain sounds “excruciating.” What are they doing to him?
It takes forever for it to be my turn. They take off my shirt and sit me down. Someone grabs me from behind so I’m relatively immobile. I feel something like an electrically charged knife pierce my arm. It digs deep, and I swear it’s scraping against the bones under my skin. I clench my teeth and try to suppress the pain. But it’s overwhelming, and my entire body shakes. I try to calm myself with long respirations. They’re of little help as the muscles in my arm are being torn apart. I want it to stop, breathe in through my nose, shaking uncontrollably.
“It’s okay to shout,” someone assures me.
I do my best not to. But at some point, it becomes too much, and I let out a roar, cursing whoever it is that’s inflicting the pain. I try to think about something else, but it hurts too much. It’s become the vortex of my thoughts, and every attempted distraction gets sucked in. Just when I think I’m about to faint, it ceases.
They stand me back up, walk me to the shrine again. Everyone gets the treatment, and when they’re finished, we’re asked to take off our blindfolds again. I see they’ve all received tattoos of a hawk. But Chieko and Kujira have a tiger. I look at my own arm. It’s a tiger too. I’m surprised when the Circle members begin to disrobe. They all have tattoos, even more elaborate than the ones we got. Narelle Z’s entire body is covered by tattoos of different animals and weapons.
With the armor removed, all of us clasp arms in a huge circle.
Narelle Z says to us, “That is your lifelong reminder of your membership and your oath to the Tadakatsu Circle. Welcome, sisters and brothers.”
We all applaud, hugs everywhere, and lots of welcoming exclamations.
“Are we allowed to look around the Shrine?” I ask.
“Only after the festivities tonight!”
“Festivities?”
“That part about there being no hazing. Doesn’t apply to beer. We’ll see who can drink the most tonight!”
“You better represent, brother!” Kazu yells, slapping my back hard.
“But I just drank last night!”
* * *
• • •
Chieko seemingly has a limitless tolerance for beer as she drinks glass after glass with almost no discernible effect. Only other person I’ve seen drink this much without getting intoxicated is Griselda. “How do you drink so much?” I ask Chieko.
“Eat a lot,” she replies as she devours a piece of toast with smoked trout and garlic cream on top.
There’s a feast on the table, delicacies from all over the world. The Mecha Circle rented out space at a fancy restaurant close to campus for our celebration. Kujira is carrying around two plates of food, and the mountain of treats never seems to dwindle. I’ve noticed he almost always eats with his hands, even the zhajiangmian noodles, which are making his fingers black from the soybean paste. “Bacon-wrapped potatoes are good,” he points out to me. “So are these mini–tempura burgers from S-Truths. They’re my fave.”
Both Chieko and Kujira fight over the sausage cheddar balls, which are vanishing before my very eyes. “I can eat ten times what you can,” Chieko says.
“No way.” Kujira steps up to her challenge.
“You wanna match?”
“This won’t even be a competition.”
Chieko and Kujira start to chug down ungodly amounts of food.
“That would be funny if it weren’t scary,” Nori comments, as Chieko wolfs down handfuls of cheddar balls and beef negimakis. “I’ve read that when sperm whales die and their carcasses drop to the bottom of the ocean, thousands of scavenging animals show up and eat from its body like a buffet.”
“This reminds you of that?”
“Worse,” she says, causing me to laugh.
Kujira tries to stuff three more cheddar balls inside his mouth.
“Did you hear about those two professors who were arrested on treason charges?” I ask Nori. She nods. “What could the Nazis have offered them?”
“I don’t even care about the professors. It’s the students who were misled that have it worse,” Nori states. “They’ll undergo standard punishment and be executed, all because they had the wrong teacher.”
“Executed?”
“Or imprisoned for life. I don’t know how professors like that could even be appointed. There have been calls for a change in the leadership and more oversight on how appointments are made.”
Someone puts his arms around both of us, and says, “Politics! I love it.”
“Kazu-sempai,” we both greet him.
“There’s a lot of history I need to bring you up to speed on,” Kazu says. “But I have a question I want to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“How do you know how sanitary a restaurant is?”
“I usually read the ratings and reviews on my portical.”
Kazu shakes his head. “Always judge the health of a restaurant by the state of its bathrooms. I’ve been to posh restaurants that are very swanky, get rave reviews, but their bathrooms are filthy. I walk right out. I won’t subject my daughters to trash.”
“What’s the bathroom like here?”
He smiles approvingly at my question. “Well kept.”
He walks over to Chieko and Kujira, who are still
stuffing themselves with food. “What are you guys, junior-high kids? Cut that out.”
Both of them have to catch their breath, holding their stomachs.
“Who won?” I ask when they return.
Chieko holds her arms up. “I’m just getting started.”
Kujira wraps his arm around his gut, and says, “I have to use the bathroom.”
He stumbles away.
“I’ll be back,” Kazu says, and mingles with some of the juniors, including the one who dressed up as Narelle Z. She’s dyed her hair white, has tattoos all the way up to her neck, and looks tough enough to be able to eat mechas for breakfast.
“How’d you eat all that?” Nori asks Chieko.
“Chew very carefully, mash it up into small pieces, then swallow. Kujira there just eats things whole, which’ll make your stomach full really quick.”
“It didn’t look like you were chewing,” I note.
“Part of it is genetics too. My mom can eat everything in the ocean, and she’s still the skinniest lady I know.”
“You have to name your mecha Ocean Devourer,” Nori jokes, causing both of us to laugh. “Kazu’s going to woo us tonight.”
“Woo us?”
“He did this last year too. It’s a preemptive apology for the hell he’s going to put you through.”
“What do you mean, hell?”
“You’re a Tiger now. You have to be the best of the mecha pilots.”
Kujira returns and looks like he’s decreased his personal load by several pounds. He’s already picked up a new tray of food.
Kazu comes back at the same time, and says, “You all need to fix your eating habits.”
“I’m good,” Kujira says.
“You body mass index is unacceptable.”
“I don’t care about that stuff, man.”
“Don’t force me to put you on rations.”
“You can’t put us on rations,” Chieko says.
“Actually, I can. Your alternative is vegetables and fish, five days a week. The other two days, you do whatever you want. Try it for a month and tell me if you notice a difference.”
“What about dessert?” Kujira asks.
“Fruits. I’ve already had your meals programmed at the mess hall, so you don’t have to worry about what you’re ordering. Now let’s get out of here.”
Chieko, who looks like she’s ready for seconds, is puzzled. “We’re not staying for the party?”
Kazu smirks. “We’re heading to Vegas.”
* * *
• • •
One of Kazu’s air-force buddies flies us out on his private plane. It’s a small plane, so it’s loud and bumpy. But it also gives us a spectacular view of the strip. After Tijuana was eviscerated by the George Washingtons, many of the resorts moved to Vegas. The mass spectacle on display makes it feel like they’ve taken the countries of the world and encapsulated them into a series of glitzy hotels, all with various themes.
There’s the Ninja Garden resort, which has shurikens and shinobis everywhere—I remember watching a video of one of their shows where ninjas run on water. Gradial Legend goes off the motif of a spaceship and is shaped like a massive starfighter, with each of the floor designs based on a galactic theme by the famous artist, Naoyuki-san. Kazu takes us to a casino called the Goldfly Jupiter, famous because it’s home to the top musicals in the Empire. We attend a show based on the Heike Monogatari, which follows the heroism of Minamoto no Yoshitsune. Kazu has gotten us box seats that we have all to our own.
“Very fancy,” Nori says. “I’ve wanted to see this for ages. I thought tickets were sold out for the next year.”
“They are,” Kazu replies. “You’re welcome.”
“I don’t like musicals, man,” Kujira says. “I’ll be gambling downstairs.”
“Ten thousand yen says you’re going to love this in the first ten minutes. If you don’t, feel free to leave.”
“That’s a lot of confidence.”
“We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Kujira takes a seat, and says, “Get my money ready.”
“Honestly, if you can walk away from this, I’ll gladly pay you.”
The opening music is sublime. Performers come out riding on something that looks like a mix of a chicken and a horse. The main actress lugs around a sword that’s twice as big as she is. But it’s when she starts singing that we’re all mesmerized. They synchronize the music, and the duets become even more intertwined. They sound divine, and their voices fill the entire theater with vigor, courage, and hope. It’s only at intermission that I notice Kujira has stayed the entire time. He excuses himself to go use the restroom. Kazu and Nori leave to get some air, with Nori saying, “She missed some of the notes.”
“Did she?”
“It’s very close, but there was a slight warble on some of the peaks, barely noticeable, but enough to distract me.”
“A million apologies,” Kazu offers.
“No night at the Goldfly would be complete without us getting to play critic,” Nori replies. “They miscued some of the smell flashes too.”
“I noticed that. Like the raspberry scent when she was cutting thr—”
Chieko looks sad in her seat, so I ask her, “How you liking it?”
“I love it . . . I just wish . . . I wish Wren were here. He always wanted to see this. We actually planned to come see it after graduation.”
“I’m sorry. We probably shouldn’t have come.”
“No no, I’m glad I came here with y’all. Otherwise, I probably never would have seen it. It’s beautiful . . . Did I tell you I failed the mecha sim exam three times?”
“You did,” I reply, faintly recalling it.
“I wanted to be a pilot so badly. And now I’m here, and it’s all so amazing. Honestly, beyond what I was expecting. That shrine earlier was awesome.”
“I didn’t even know it existed, and I thought I knew a lot about the mecha corps.”
“Same here. When I was looking at the altar, thinking about the fact all of the Disciples were killed in battle, I realized, there’s a good chance we’ll be killed too. And I wondered, why am I so happy about joining when we’ll most likely die because of it? I’m like a pig getting buttered up for the slaughter and actually looking forward to it.”
“This time, we’ll have actual mechas to fight the biomechs.”
“You saw what that Nazi monster did to our mechas.”
“Those were Sentry class,” I answer to try to assure her. “Older models.”
“I know what they were,” she snaps.
“Sorry.”
She shakes her head. “I know what you meant.” She looks at the empty stage. “I never dream about Wren. I dream about everyone else. But never Wren. I don’t know why.”
Kujira reenters and has a basket full of onion rings. “Hungry?”
Chieko stands up and excuses herself to use the restroom.
Kujira starts to eat the rings, puts his feet up on the balcony rail, and asks me, “You any good at cards?”
“Not really. You?”
“Learning,” he replies. “Wanna play later?”
“Sure.”
* * *
• • •
We go to a sushi bar after the show. There are waitresses with purple hair and huge earphones. They’re riding roller blades and wearing short shorts and thin tube tops. Almost all of them have elaborate accessories on their bodies. There’s extra enthusiasm from the patrons because four professional sumo wrestlers in the WSO are here, gorging on raw fish. I recognize them. Two are ethnically Mongolian, and the other two are from the main island. It takes a lot of effort not to be like everyone else in the restaurant and gawk.
“Did you like it?” Kazu asks Kujira about the musical.
Kujira relucta
ntly nods. “It was fine.”
“Fine?”
“What’s with you and the perpetual chip on your shoulder?” Nori asks Kujira.
“What chip?” Kujira asks back.
“You know what I’m talking about. Your ‘too cool for school’ act. I get it. But you can drop it with us.”
“This isn’t an act. I don’t trust the military or anyone at the academy. I’m only here because I thought there’d be good food.”
“Spoken like a pastiche of your mother. What about you?”
“What’s pastiche mean?” Kujira wants to know.
“Look it up,” Nori says. “I get it. Trust is earned, not deserved. But we’re not here to screw you, so stop acting like it’s you against the world.”
Kujira appears annoyed, but Chieko laughs in a placating manner, and says, “Wow, that’s a roasting. Is it my turn next?”
“You want it to be?” Nori asks.
Chieko gives Kujira a punch. “Thicker skin, man. You need look no further than Mac as a paragon of thick skin. People give him so much grief, and it all bounces off him.”
“I think you mean thin skin. Everything bothers me. Plus, my nickname used to be Cream,” I confess.
“What?” Kazu asks.
I tell them its origin with the RAMs.
“Do not let that out, or I’ll be forced to kick you out of the Tigers,” Kazu says.
“You might as well kick me out, then, ’cause at this rate, all of BEMA’ll know.”
Everyone laughs at my expense.
Kujira says, “I spent the first ten years of my life without people. It was just me and mom. Some of her old pilot friends would visit, and we’d mecha spar off Catalina. But aside from that, it was just us. And then it was just me for a few years.”
“Isn’t Catalina a prison colony?” Chieko asks.
Mecha Samurai Empire Page 30