Kino?
Hmm?
It's been quiet here, very uneventful.
It's not strange for people to have quiet, simple lives.
No, I suppose not. But normally, we would have stopped to talk to somebody. Is something worrying you?
No, there's nothing. I'm observing, that's all. It's a larger city than we've ever been to before. I want to understand how that changes the way the people here live. There must be many different ways of living in a place so large.
Ah. Okay. Well, then I'll just keep going at this pace.
That's fine.
To any outside observer, the banal exchange would have seemed insane. From afar, it certainly must have looked as though the green-haired young woman in the brown longcoat, goggles covering her eyes as she rode her motorcycle through the wider streets that could be found in Olympa's Undercity, was holding a one-sided conversation with herself. Of course, anyone who was close enough to overhear the conversation, rather than only see the woman's - Kino's - mouth moving, would have heard her conversational partner just fine. She was speaking to her motorcycle, to her traveling companion, Hermes. Hermes called himself a Motorrad, so Kino did as well, but neither of them cared much about what precisely he was or how he was able to speak. Hermes was Hermes, and that knowledge had always been good enough for the duo.
With Hermes' question settled, the duo continued to ride through the Undercity's streets in relative silence. Kino surveyed the area as they rode, not so much interested in the city itself as in it's people. There had been all kinds. They had passed through some market earlier, a friendly, bustling - by the standards of the area - place with all kinds of interesting sights. The fruit stall, that had really caught her eye. It had business, sure, but… there was something peculiar about it. A handful of folks had stopped and inspected it from a distance. There was something more going on in their heads than contemplation of their needs or an assessment of the quality of the fruit on display. No, there was a wariness in their body language. Most of them seemed to come to the conclusion that whatever gave them pause was nothing to be concerned about, given that they'd suddenly shake off the hesitation and approach the stand as if they had never had a second thought about it. A few went the other direction, backing away and giving the stall a wide berth as they passed it by. It was hard to say for certain, but she had a feeling something had happened at the stall, something not so unknown to the Undercity that it changed the habits of most of its residents but which had been unnerving enough to make people pause.
Despite her suspicions, she hadn't requested Hermes stop at the stall. No, the two of them simply continued down the road, Kino inspecting every person she saw skulking in the shadows of the buildings and the alleyways. She had heard tales of the Undercity being some crime-ridden hellscape, but, given her experiences traveling the world, she had never placed much faith in those rumors. No, you could never get much of an idea of a place from people who weren't living there themselves.
Not all, she could tell, who lurked in the shadows were criminal. Their body language - she could tell so much about these people from their body language alone. The hobbling of a laboring woman, returning home with an aching back after a night shift of infrastructure maintenance, had its subtle differences from the laboured steps of an elderly man determined to have a pleasant stroll despite the toll a rough and long life had taken on his body. The confident swagger of men walking right through the center of the streets and sidewalks - a clear indication of who belonged to a gang or some kind of organized crime family and felt they could act with impunity because of the numbers behind them - didn't make them any less apparent than the opportunistic urchins who sidled along the walls of buildings. The bouncing gait of a young girl heading for home with treats in her hand contrasted with the defensive hunching of the two boys accompanying her, each clearly eyeing the other with suspicion. She was content with what she had and had no worries about it. Each boy was less focused on what he had and more on the possibility that the other might try and swipe it. What did that say about these three children? Had they led different lives - ones of scarcity and abundance, ones of stability and chaos - despite being neighbors?
Kino's observations of the Undercity's residents consumed all of her attention, leaving Hermes to keep an eye on what was ahead for the both of them. With Kino lost in thought, it fell upon him to point out the interesting sight they were approaching.
Kino.
Yes?
At Hermes' prodding, Kino snapped back to focusing on the road. They were approaching a scrapyard, quite a sizable one. There didn't seem to be anyone there at the moment, or, at least, they were hidden from view. If there was no one around, the place didn't concern them. It'd be easier to go around it, rather than try to ride through it, over top of all of the metal and junk strewn around. Just as Kino opened her mouth to tell Hermes that they'd go around, the Motorrad chimed in.
Do you see that washing machine?
You'd like to go see it?
Kino's normally-even voice actually rose in surprise as she responded. It was a rare event indeed, when Hermes expressed interest in anything. He had always had a sense of mechanical devices, an understanding of how they worked, that had drawn his attention to them, but this seemed strange, for him to want to see something broken down and thrown out. Still, she didn't even wait for his response before she shifted her weight to help him turn towards the machine. It was certainly odd, she'd give it that. She hadn't noticed until it was pointed out to her, but it was relatively intact. Even stranger, it sat upright, at the very edge of the scrapyard, all on its own. It looked as though somebody had intentionally dragged it out of the scrap heap and set it to the side. But for what purpose?
Kino dismounted as she and her companion approached, allowing Hermes to continue puttering along to go around the back of the machine, which had had its covering removed - or perhaps torn off. The front had been facing them, the door on the front also having been ripped out of the machine at some point, so, while Hermes traveled around one side, Kino inspected the side opposite.
A target?
What was that?
Kino didn't respond to Hermes' request for clarification, only motioning the Motorrad to come around and join her. Indeed, there was a hastily drawn target pattern, not unlike the kind one might employ in recreational archery. The bright reds and whites of the target ensured it could be seen from quite a distance, but, it didn't appear to have any marks indicating it had been shot at in any way. There were no holes or scratches, and nothing had even caused the paint to flake or left a nick in it. No one had been practicing with it, so what could it have been for…?
The answer came to Kino's mind all too suddenly, but, for Hermes, everything seemed to go off the rails in an instant, as Kino threw off her longcoat - allowing it to fall on her companion, draped over his seat, and pulled a gun from a holster on her waist. She pointed it at a mountain of scrap, one they had been a fair distance away, to their backs. A moment of tense silence followed. After just a few seconds, the Motorrad, not so much worried as unable to contain his curiosity, finally broke the silence with a question..
Kino, what's the mat-
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
...a question that would go, unfinished, that is, as Hermes found himself interrupted by three beats of an echoing, drawn-out applause.
Hey hey! Wow, that's good! Spectacular! Much better than I expected! Oooh, it's a woodsman, too! What's that one? The match target model? Stay there! I want a closer look!
Yes, sitting at the top of the scrap heap, peering through the sight of a GM6 Lynx anti-material rifle, was none other than Pitohui. She had been watching the pair with rapt attention, happy to let them entertain her. She had seen them as soon as they entered the scrapyard, and had decided to lay low, to see what they were up to and see if they could offer her any excitement. It had been her who had set up the target, early in the morning, before most had even climbed out of bed. She had thought that the scrapyard would be a prime place for target practice with a high-powered gun that she couldn't exactly take to just any shooting range. Much to her consternation, it was only after all the effort of moving the machine and painting the target that she realized she'd have to abandon the whole idea. As sure as she was of herself, she didn't want to be the one to take the risk of some kind of accident out here, in a place where nobody was ostensibly supposed to be shooting guns of any kind.
Still, it hadn't been a complete waste of time. It had, after all, kept her occupied for a few hours, and staying occupied was a chief concern of hers. She had worked hard to avoid any extended periods of idle time in isolation. Dawn and Joy had helped with that, injecting some excitement in her life with the occasional mission. Even more so than those two, Kanade and the ZFPD had provided her with welcome distractions. Since their night out where her attempt to prank Kanade with searingly-spicy curry had backfired, Pitohui - both as herself and as Elsa - had been making more efforts to go out with the other idol. They had been simple outings, going out with Kanade as she shopped, sharing meals here and there, hanging out casually in general when they could. As for the ZFPD, Pitohui made excuses to visit them as often as possible without seeming desperate, even volunteering her time and offering to take on more menial and routine duties in a transparent attempt to disguise the fact that she was mostly spending time there to visit with Frost, Clawhauser, and the others. When there was no one else available, she focused, as much as she could without mentally draining herself, on her work, or on keeping her collection of weapons in prime condition and her skills with them sharp. When even that didn't work, she tried to force herself to explore more of Olympia, wandering aimlessly to see what she could busy herself with. Given that she had already found an apartment to lease and had moved into it from her hotel room months ago, aimless wandering was all that was left on her agenda for the day after she left the scrapyard. But now that there were some new faces around…
It took a moment, but Pitohui, who opted to carry her gun in her hands rather than to throw it over her shoulder with a strap, made her way down to speak to with the duo directly. Kino kept a wary gaze trained on the black-clad woman. Kino lowered her gun while Pitohui approached, gladly taking the woman's desire to see the weapon up close as an excuse to keep her weapon out of its holster. She scrutinized Pitohui's body language. The woman's movements were lithe, and the way she carried herself conveyed a carefree and confident attitude. It didn't seem as though she meant them any harm, but it was difficult to read her intentions, especially with the mischievous glint in her eyes and her wide grin. She read like the type who could turn on a dime, who could do anything at a moment's notice as her whims changed.
Pitohui had no similar reservations about Kino, despite the traveler's willingness to so quickly point a weapon at her, and instead "oohed" and "ahhed" as she admired the weapon in Kino's hand. She seemed, as best Kino could tell, enraptured by the gun. Pitohui babbled excitedly, possessing the same energy as a child gushing about a new toy they saw on the television.
Wow! It really is the Colt Woodsman! I have to pat myself on the back for that one. I haven't even seen this one in person before. Pistols aren't the best, but this is a diamond in the rough. And in pristine condition! You've really taken great care of it! How long have you had it?
Kino couldn't help but be taken aback by the woman's enthusiasm. She had an intimidating presence as it was, and her genuine excitement and delight only amplified her discomforting aura.
Uh, over seven years now, I'd guess. It was a gift while I was traveling.
Seven years with one gun! I'm impressed. Then you really must be skilled with it. Hell, you could probably do better with it than I could right now. I'd have to get used to it to match up to seven years of experience. That's not the only gun you own, is it?
It's not. She has one more she takes everywhere.
Kino shot a glare at her companion, not for forcing his way into the conversation, but for answering the question honestly. She still wasn't sure if she could fully trust this woman. She had no desire to show the woman her other weapon and throw away any element of surprise she had. Hermes, though, was just as oblivious when it came to people as Kino was keenly aware of how people behaved and presented themselves. In other words, Hermes wouldn't have understood his faux pas even if Kino explained it in detail. With no other option, she produced another gun from another holster.
As loudly as Pitohui howled with delight, someone overhearing her would have been forgiven for assuming her and Kino were having a much more intimate encounter in the scrapyard.
Ahhhaaaa! It's an 1851 Colt Navy Revolver! And it's in even better condition! Not enough people have the good taste to appreciate a revolver anymore! Oh, you're just a dream come true! Do you really not have any more?
Kino had moved beyond the point of discomfort. More than anything, she just wanted the conversation to end. She had met all kinds of people in her travels, and she had made it a principle to never look down upon other people for their personalities or the way they lived their lives. That didn't mean that she liked being around just anyone, though. She'd close this conversation cordially, but quickly.
No, that's it. The two are enough.
Oh boooo! I thought you were going to be a walking armory of rare guns. Well, can't be helped. So, whatd'ya say? Ready to follow me to a range? I can't wait to see what you can do with these two.
Even as Pitohui spun around to rush off to the nearest proper shooting range, Kino stood firm. She stayed rooted to her spot and shook her head.
No thank you. I'm not going to be spending much time here, so I want to spend it seeing what the city's like. Besides, I don't want to fire these if I don't have to. There's no point in having a gun besides self-defense and hunting.
Whaaaaa-?
From her tone, one might have deduced that Pitohui had just received life-changing news, the kind that leaves people devastated and unable to process the enormity of the situation they're in. It was more than a little dramatic, to say the least, and enough to make even the normally-stoic Kino's cheeks tinge pink. She hadn't said anything that ground-breaking, had she? Pitohui whipped back around, pointing an accusatory finger at the traveler.
I refuse to believe it! Someone who has taken such good care of these precious little ones, and she says she doesn't even like guns! What an awful thing to say around them!
You shouldn't be shocked. There's no reason for us to want to go with you. It was you who trapped us in a bush, remember.
Now both women stared at Hermes, both trying to decipher what exactly the Motorrad had said. Silently, Kino welcomed the distraction. Were she lucky, it would send the gun-lover down some other train of thought and she'd get caught up enough on that that she'd leave them alone.
...you mean… I ambushed you?
Yes, that's it!
Riiiight…
Kino, it turned out, was not all that lucky, given that Pitohui immediately returned to pointing at her and shouting, disbelief evident in her voice.
I just can't accept it! Tell me. Right now! What are their names? Someone who takes such good care of them has to have named them.
Kino wanted to retort with a comment on the absurdity of Pitohui's logic, to refute her assertion that she could expect someone to name a gun simply because they put in the effort to properly maintain their weapon. Unfortunately for Kino, she found herself taking a backseat in the conversation to the ever-honest-and-straightforward Hermes, leaving the traveler herself to flush red and finally break eye contact with the gun maniac.
Their names are easy. The first one's the Woodsman. The second one's the Cannon.
Pitohui immediately bursted into such an intense laughter that she had to stop and gasp for air halfway through it.
AHA! I KNEW IT! Ahahaha, you thought you could get one over on me! What a laugh! Ahahaha! Wew, that was great, really. You almost had me at first, but, clearly you think there's "no point". Right, okay. I'll play along, especially if it means you might sell 'em to me later. Besides that whopper, what's your other excuse for not wanting to go with me?
I… I told you. I won't be staying long. I stay in every land I visit for three days and two nights. That's as long as it takes to learn what the place is like.
Pitohui cocked an eyebrow. Now she was genuinely confused. This girl thought she could get a feel of a place as big as Olympia in that short a time?
Sounds pretty stupid, if you ask me. I've been here for a year now, and I still don't know everything about this place. I'd say you need more time than that.
Do you not know everything because there's too much to learn in that time, or is it because you haven't stopped to observe it?
Hey! I'm more observant than you give me credit for! I noticed you before you noticed me, didn't I? But that's not important. Look, hear me out. The city's divided into four main sections, right? Outer, Inner, Middle, and Under? Follow?
I'm aware of the division. I'm here to see how life differs in each of the sectors, and see how they all work together. That's why I chose to come to Olympia. I came to observe the people here and to hear their stories.
Pitohui smirked as she nodded. This was perfect. She wanted this girl to stick around long enough to see what she was capable of with those guns, and, if she could, convince her to part with them.
Right, perfect. You've gotta know that they're all basically different places. Undercity's where all the fun is. Outer's got some small-fry joints, the Middle City has the people who think they're ritzy, and the Inner's for the idiots who are too good for the air outside their precious little dome and pour gold on their salad. Got it? So, obviously, you have to treat each place like they're their own city. So that's… twelve days. Twelve days, eight nights, split it up between the four sectors. Make sense?
Kino bristled at the thought of admitting that this woman in particular was right, but, then, she really had seen some unusual ways of looking at the world in her time, and, as she knew all too well, sometimes even the strangest points of view brought people joy and peace. Her philosophy was to never dismiss a lifestyle or perspective offhand, and the gun maniac did make a compelling argument…
Okay. You make a good case. I'll visit each as if it were its own city. That still means my time in the Undercity is running out. I need to move on.
Great! Just wait one more sec before you run off, 'kay?
This was it, time for Pitohui to bait her trap. With only twelve days, she couldn't guarantee that this traveler would end up in a situation where she'd feel the need to pull out her guns… unless... unless she were to get her involved with a group that seemed to attract nothing but trouble, one that might even be able to convince the traveler to stick around in town for an extended period.
You said you wanted to observe people, right? Then you have to go to this one bar when you visit the Outer City. It's called Valhalla. Run by a Dana Zane. You'll love it. All kinds of freaks - the good kind, I mean. I'll probably stop in sometime, so don't be a stranger when you come by, okay? If I'm not around, tell them that Pitohhhhuuu-
She hesitated. Did she really want this girl throwing her name around? If someone recounted her less-than-flattering history in the city or otherwise warned the traveler to beware her, it could cause the girl to put her guard up, which would make her job all that much harder… No, she needed the traveler to go in with a better name than her's behind her. She needed someone who was trusted, well-known. It had to be someone who could live with the white lie, too, a harmless little falsehood she could come in and clear up later with no harm and no foul. She needed that baker. The baker, the one with the boxer girl, she'd be the perfect choice... but what was her name? Her first name was easy, but what was her last name...?
Huuu-on… Huonoka, Huonoka… People struggle with it, you don't really pronounce the "u," so it's Honoka. Honoka Kos… Kosko? Kosoko? Kosaka? Kosoka?
Punching her helmet in frustration - hard enough that she could still feel the force on her skull even through the protective headgear - Pitohui eventually lets out a cry of defeat, stomping on the ground for emphasis like a toddler demanding attention before she finally composes herself and addresses the traveler directly once more.
Gah! God, what was it? What the hell was it? You know what? It's fine. I'll look it up later. Just forget it. They won't ask you anything. Just stop in sometime, okay?
XXX
The end of the conversation had been uneventful. Pitohui had given Kino the bar's address, then she sent the duo off with a hearty wave and a cheerful goodbye as Kino mounted Hermes and the duo sped off to continue their exploration of the Undercity. They continued in their travels as they had before, mostly in silence, with Hermes watching the road and Kino watching all the people they passed by. Down one particularly barren road, Hermes offered one more uncharacteristic interjection.
Kino.
Yes?
That woman. Did she remind you of-
-of Master?
Yes, that's it. She reminded me of her, but you knew her better than I did.
They look similar, and she was almost as confident as Master always used to be. I don't know how good she is with guns, either, but I doubt she could be as good as Master was.
Huh. Is that why you didn't want to shoot with her?
No. That was the truth. I didn't want to waste time shooting anything. It doesn't do any good to use a weapon unless you have to.
So you don't think you should prepare for a piece of the war?
...are you asking if I believe the saying "prepare for war if you want peace" is wrong?
Yes, that's it!
No. I never said that. There's many different ways to live in this world. I don't know if there's any one right way. But I don't like to hurt people if I don't have to.
Oh. Okay. I get it, then. It's your personal idea about living.
With Hermes seemingly content with the answer, the pair continued their ride through the Undercity in silence.
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