mission report for g_esquared (part 6 of 7)
Back to Part 5
The jet coaster at Paradise Circus wasn't the highest or the fastest, but it was still scary. Yasuda-kun sat in the car in front of him and Keiko, filming them without freaking out in the least while they were whipped around corners. Sho had never been a fan of rides or anything with heights, but Keiko had wanted to ride. It was his duty to ride with her.
Corporal Matsumoto was quiet and methodical in the tour he'd given them so far. First they'd been through the gardens, examining the flowers and greenery that had been planted there. To Sho, it seemed the most logical part of the whole facility. There were benches for quiet reflection and a pleasant scent in the air. But few of the "guests" ever bothered to wander around there.
He'd asked Matsumoto why, and he'd only shrugged his shoulders. Soldiers weren't hired for their opinions, Sho realized, especially here. As Matsumoto escorted them toward the hotel with Yasuda filming madly at his heels, Keiko had fallen into step with him.
"There's no need to reflect, not now that we're here. We've been thinking all week," she told him. "About what we're leaving behind. I think Paradise Circus gets that. It wants us to relax and forget. I don't know if it's right or wrong, but it doesn't want us to think. We're already here. There's no point in thinking any more."
For a moment, he regretted not capturing her words with Yasuda's camera, but he'd been having the cameraman film more of the scenery and the employees than Keiko herself as the hours went by. Yasuda had filmed the long hallways of the hotel, the lonely restaurant, the pool, the lobby. Sho wasn't sure what the government's aim had been here, and he remembered his father's words. That Paradise Circus was supposed to be the humane alternative to executing citizens outright.
From the look on some people's faces, sitting alone in the hotel restaurant or glumly holding rings at the ring toss booth, maybe a bullet straight to the head would have been preferable.
When the jet coaster ride ended, a few high school boys stayed strapped into their seats. There wasn't much of a line to speak of, so the staff prepared to get the ride going again. He and Keiko stepped out of the coaster car, and Sho's legs were wobbly as they headed down the exit ramp to find Matsumoto waiting for them. Yasuda turned the camera behind them, filming the coaster taking off from the small station once again.
"Keiko-san, is there anything else you'd care to ride?"
She was tired, and Sho was too. It was nearly 4:00 PM and they'd been up for hours, most of them spent on edge even with the alleged 7:00 PM curfew. "Would it be a bother if I took a nap?" she asked. "I'm sorry if it doesn't make for compelling television."
"I could keep filming the Midway, give the other folks some airtime," Yasuda volunteered. "It's not a problem."
"We're supposed to stay together," Sho noted, catching Matsumoto's watchful eye. "Isn't that right, Corporal?"
Sho hadn't been able to do much investigating of the facilities with the man at his heels all day. He'd been there when they walked, had been there when they ate. He'd only stopped short of following Keiko into the women's restroom.
"If she's in the room with the door locked, it won't be a problem. I can post someone at the door," he said.
"For her own safety."
He radioed on to someone else on his team, and they made their way back to the hotel. Keiko was assigned to room 1 on the second floor, and Sho saw obvious exertion on Matsumoto's part as he got the door open. It was heavier than a hotel door usually was. Yasuda was allowed to film the bed area and the bathroom. In every respect it looked like a normal business hotel room, but Sho was catching on.
Everyone was to return to the hotel at 7:00 PM. There was a room for every guest within, and none of the windows could open. Gas, Sho realized. They did it with some sort of gas. He said nothing of the sort to Keiko, looking away as she adjusted the pillows, arranging herself on top of the bedspread.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Sho-san, I feel as though I've seen all there is to see."
Matsumoto was staring out the window, Yasuda rummaging through some pens and paper on the desk to document everything available. He sat down on the bed, understanding her reluctance to keep wandering around this place. "You'll be safe in here," he said quietly. "I'll come back before 7:00, get some more of your thoughts if that's alright with you."
"That's alright with me," she assured him. "And Sho-san?"
He knew Matsumoto had probably been ordered to listen in, make sure Sho wasn't plotting any sort of heroics. He leaned in until Keiko's lips were right next to his ear.
"Do you think...do you think if people see this it's going to change anyone's mind?" she whispered.
"I don't know."
"But you'll try?"
There was a knock at the door. Matsumoto's colleague had arrived to ensure that nobody got into Keiko's room...and that Keiko herself couldn't leave.
"I'll try," he told her, getting up from the bed and not looking back. He followed Matsumoto from the room, heading for the stairwell.
"You'll be able to stay with her until her dinner tray arrives. Then we'll go to the command center," Matsumoto reminded him. "I'm sorry I can't do any more."
"I want to see it," Sho said calmly.
"You've seen everything," Matsumoto said. They paused in the stairwell, Matsumoto down a few steps and looking up at him and Yasuda with a warning look in his eyes.
"We don't have to film it," he said, feeling anger bubbling up in his gut, thinking of Keiko's exhausted face. It was cruel, forcing people to endure a day like this. Their final day alive, playing through this farce the government had cooked up half a century ago. "We don't need the cameras, but I want to see it. I want to see where the gas comes from. I want to see how we kill them."
Matsumoto visibly tensed at the word "we," but Sho couldn't take much more of this place. The place his father had praised. What about this place, about this treatment made them better than any of the other nations subjugated to China and Russia? Every night he praised the heroes who'd given their lives here, never knowing just what they'd been forced to endure. And for what?
"You know I can't show you that."
"Yasuda, turn your camera on."
"Sho-san," the cameraman muttered.
"Turn it on right now."
He could hear Yasuda fumbling with it behind him, watched Matsumoto's eyes burn a hole through him. He cleared his throat as soon as Yasuda tapped him on the shoulder to let him know they were rolling.
"Matsumoto-san, is it true that the government of Japan uses poison gas to murder one hundred citizens every day and has used poison gas to murder one hundred citizens a day for forty-eight years? That's what, a million people who have wandered these grounds? Nearly two million? This is what freedom costs, Matsumoto-san?"
Matsumoto said nothing. Sho could hear his father's voice in his head, begging him to stop. He was just supposed to document the day, not offer emotional commentary. A hypocrite like him, the man who read the names...what could he possibly have to say about Paradise Circus? Someone who lied every night, reminded everyone how important this place was. Who was he to pass judgment? And yet, he couldn't stop himself.
"And what happens after they're murdered, Matsumoto-san? What do you do with them?"
"Sakurai-san, I'm only asking once. Turn your camera off."
Sho didn't care. They were never going to let him air it anyway, if they didn't have him executed outright. "Yasuda, keep filming. Tell me then, Corporal. Tell me something, would you?" He was being unfair to him. He was being cruel. Matsumoto Jun was just doing his job, and Sho was doing everything but his own. "Hasn't this place had any effect on you? Doesn't it make you angry?"
"Shut up," Matsumoto said, his hand dangerously moving to the gun at his side. "You don't know anything about me."
"Yasuda, keep filming," Sho said again. "So you think what happens here is okay? What would it take to make you change your mind? How many people would have to die? Who would have to die? Your mother? A brother? A lover?"
He felt the wind go out of him as Matsumoto shoved him against the wall, strong hand around his throat.
"How badly would you like to find out?"
---
If Ninomiya was pissed off that Ohno had been shadowing him all day, he didn't seem to show it. That was the good thing about Paradise Circus, that everyone through the gate each day had no preconceived notions about how things operated. He supposed that the guy would be upset if he knew all the fuss his selection in the lottery had caused, but if this was the only way Paradise was going to change, he was grateful that Nino had been chosen.
Ohno had followed Ninomiya through the Midway, understanding the sadness and disbelief in his eyes as he discovered just what the government had cooked up for his last day alive. Nino had opted against lunch, choosing to spend the rest of his day at the hotel with some games. They were a few systems behind since few guests ever requested to borrow them, but Nino didn't seem to mind.
He probably assumed Ohno was a rule enforcer, a necessary evil, so he hadn't said a thing as Ohno spent the next several hours sitting in room 59 in silence, watching Mario jump and shoot fireballs. He'd never been this close to one of the guests for such a long time before in all his years at Paradise, usually observing goings-on from his lifeguard seat.
"Ohno-san," Ninomiya said, eyes not leaving the TV screen. "Do you kill me? Are you the one who does it? Is that why you're here with me? Because if so, I'd rather you just do it already."
He checked the clock on the bedside table. 6:23. Just about time to go.
"You aren't going to die."
That was enough to get him to pause the game and turn around, eyeing him cynically. "Is that a joke?"
"No."
Nino got up, turned off the game system and the TV both. "There's vents in this room. I was going through this whole day expecting to be gassed in the end. And now you're telling me I won't die."
There was a knock at the door. Right on schedule. "Hello, it's Aiba. I've brought the sheets you requested," came Aiba's voice from the outside.
Nino just stood there confused as Ohno moved to the door and opened it, allowing Aiba and the laundry cart full of bed sheets inside. "I didn't ask for any sheets," Nino mumbled.
"He doesn't know?" Aiba asked, slightly irritated. "You were supposed to tell him..."
"Tell me what?" Nino demanded. Ohno watched him clutch the Famicom controller in his hands, grip tightening around the cord. He stared Ohno down. This had been a ridiculous plan from the start. "Tell me what?!"
"We know Matsumoto Jun-kun," Ohno explained gently, holding up his hands in hopes that Nino would take the news without running away or freaking out. The last thing they needed to do was subdue the poor guy. "He asked us to help you. To keep you safe."
Nino's face went white as the sheets in the cart Aiba had pushed in. "He what?"
Aiba moved from foot to foot, nervous, and Ohno wondered if this was going to backfire before it even got started. "Everyone's confined to their rooms at 7:00. You're sealed in by 9:00 and the gas comes at midnight," he explained, voice shaking. "Which is why we have to get you out now."
"I don't understand you," Nino mumbled. "Jun's a soldier. He would never, ever break the rules. You don't know him. And you...you work here. Is this a trap? Do you just go after suspicious people? Look, I don't know what kind of fucking game you're playing here, but this place is cruel, you know? I can't take any more misdirection. I can't take the theme park and the smiling faces and the new sheets for the bed. I can't."
He backed away from them until he was against the wall, trembling.
"I came here ready to die. I can't deal with anything else. I did everything they asked me to do. I wanted to hurt you, all fucking day, I wanted to do something. I wanted to fight it. But I've given up, okay? Just...please kill me if it's your job to kill me. Don't bring Jun into it." Ohno's heart broke when he saw Nino's eyes fill with tears. "Please don't make this about Jun. Please don't tell him I'm here. Please!"
Aiba moved to comfort him, but Ohno stopped him with a hand to his arm. "Aiba-chan..."
"I don't think you know Jun, either," Aiba protested. "He's doing this to help you! He cares enough about you to break the rules! Do you get that? Do you get what it took for him to go this far?"
"Then where is he?" Nino asked angrily, not bothering to wipe his eyes. "Where is he, huh?"
Ohno took a step forward, keeping his hands up. "I told you. He asked us to help you. We work here, me and Aiba. And we can't deal with this place any longer. Paradise needs to stop. If it was up to me, you'd stay in this room, but Jun-kun's the one in charge of all this. We have to get you out of here, but you have to trust us. Please."
"Almost fifty years," Nino said. "People have died here every day for fifty years. Nobody's ever been saved. Nobody."
"There's no guarantee that we'll succeed," Ohno admitted. "But Jun thinks you're worth saving so we're going to try. Would you rather stay in here and wait for the gas to come or take your chances?"
Nino still looked dubious, but his eyes started darting from vent to vent, to the certain death that would disperse in less than six hours. "What do I have to do?"
Aiba started pulling the sheets out of the cart, revealing bottles of water and trays of snack food and granola bars. Probably more than they needed, but who knew what was going to happen that night? "These go under your blanket. This is you," Ohno explained, balling up the sheets. "When they come with the dinner tray and open the door, they'll see that you're under the covers. They don't bother people who are asleep. You come with us."
"You're pushing me out of here in a laundry cart?" Nino asked incredulously. "This isn't a silly movie, this is life and death. Not just mine."
"You can take that up with Jun-kun then," Aiba said, gesturing to the cart. "Come on, hop in."
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
Ohno finished shoving the sheets under the blankets. It did mostly look like someone was under there. "Because I've called you Nino this whole day. How else would I know to call you that?"
Nino looked between him and Aiba, still hurting, still terrified, but he reluctantly clambered into the cart, allowing Aiba to throw some of the spare sheets over him.
"What about everyone else?" Nino asked, voice muffled by the sheets on top of him. "What about Kitagawa Keiko and all the others? I don't suppose you have a cart for everyone."
"We don't," Aiba said. "We just have to hope Jun knows what he's doing."
The sheets shuffled around a bit. "And what exactly is he doing?"
---
He hadn't expected Sakurai Sho to arrive at Paradise Circus with any agenda other than propaganda. Surely his presence here had been approved to keep Paradise going. And yet the man's calm, his pleasant TV persona had been worn down over the course of the day.
Even now as they sat with Kitagawa Keiko in the final minutes before 1900 hours, Jun could see that he'd underestimated him. He'd been so close to taking the camera out of Yasuda's hands, throwing it on the ground and seeing it smashed to pieces. Sakurai had provoked him, tried to get a rise out of him. It had worked, and it had amazingly gone in Jun's favor.
"I'm supposed to sell the Japanese people on this place," Sho had told him in the stairwell, bitterness in his voice. "That's impossible. Literally impossible."
He'd expected Sakurai Sho to be another puppet, another mouthpiece. Where he thought he would have had to coerce the man and Yasuda at gunpoint, Sakurai had seemed amenable, almost enthusiastic about Jun's half-assed plan.
"We could all die," he'd told Sakurai. "There's a high probability it won't work out."
"I leave this place after midnight with the footage on that camera and I'm a dead man anyway."
Jun had given Yasuda the chance to walk away, but he'd refused. "I can't," the cameraman had said. "Not after the things I've seen."
So here they were, recording Kitagawa Keiko's "final" message. Jun stayed out of sight of the camera, watching Sakurai try and keep it together. He'd told the man about Nino, too. Best he knew exactly why Jun had turned traitor. He knew that Sakurai wanted to bring Keiko along too, wanted to keep her with them. But there were already too many variables. They couldn't risk it, and Sakurai was already the best bargaining chip they had.
Yasuda finally turned the camera off. It was time. Jun knew that Aiba and Ohno were already on their way, or should have been by now. "Let's go," Jun said. "I have to bring you both to the command center."
Sakurai met his eyes. "We should keep the camera in here. Keep it safe."
Keiko was confused. "Sho-san, what do you mean?"
The room would be sealed at 2100 hours. If they failed and the camera was here, it would be tossed in the trash and burned. If they failed and the camera was with them, it would be burned too. It didn't really matter where they left it. But if it made Sakurai feel better, made him more agreeable, then Jun would do anything at this point.
"If there's anything you don't feel comfortable saying with us around," Sho lied to her. "Then use this time to record it."
They left Kitagawa Keiko behind with the camera in her hand just as the staff arrived with a dinner tray for her. As they left the hotel, they moved through the halls and the lobby as conspicuously as they could. The more people that saw them heading for the command center as expected, the more time they'd have before someone got curious. Jun even radioed ahead to Lieutenant Katori, saying he was en route with Sakurai and Yasuda in tow. That Kitagawa Keiko was safely in her room for good. It felt strange lying to his superior, something that would have been unthinkable even two days earlier.
As they headed down the hill, Sakurai stayed close at his back. Even then they could hear the screams, the protests as members of the Ground Unit and the civilian staff chased them down, forced them to the hotel.
"My father said people brought here were treated with respect and dignity," Sakurai murmured. "I suppose he never got a high enough security clearance to learn what happens when it's time for the carnival to close."
He wanted to tell Sakurai to shut up, to just stay quiet, but what did it matter? Everything the man found abhorrent about this place Jun found abhorrent too - he'd just never had the courage to do anything about it. He'd never been convinced that the system could change. Sakurai seemed to want to believe they had a fighting chance. Yasuda seemed nervous without the camera in hand, without a way to channel his energy. He jangled the change around in the pockets of his pants, humming quietly to himself as they approached the command center.
Jun nodded to the person manning the door. They were on camera entering just after 1900 hours. There was a room in the second sub-basement where Jun was supposed to bring them, where they were expected to wait out the next five hours. There was even a television hooked up to Channel One in there if Sakurai was vain enough to want to watch his own program.
They took the elevator down as expected. Jun whispered for them to walk normally as they exited the elevator, bypassing the necessary door. They weren't waiting it out in there. He knew exactly where other members of the unit were stationed on the floor. Nakamaru was on guard in the north corridor, just in front of the armory door, and Tanaka was always trying to flirt with Corporal Ishihara outside of the control room. Even a day like today wouldn't stop him.
Jun was right, marching right to the south end of the floor, pulling out the key they'd found him trustworthy enough to keep. He felt the slightest regret as he slipped it into the lock for the stairwell door. Ten years in the life, the only work life he'd known, and he was throwing it all away. Eighteen year old Matsumoto Jun, wanting so badly to fit in, to be a part of something, to protect his country and his family - he would despise Jun now. But eighteen year old Matsumoto Jun hadn't met Ninomiya Kazunari. He couldn't understand.
He waited until Sakurai and Yasuda were on the landing with him, and he closed the stairwell door firmly, relocking it. If they'd seen the three of them go this way on the cameras, he had about 30 seconds before the alarms would blare and other members of the unit would come running.
He watched the seconds tick by on his watch, letting them count down as the three of them stood there in the stairwell, the orange emergency lights casting an eerie glow all around. If they got past this, they'd be in the clear for a few hours. Corporal Matsumoto Jun was trustworthy - nobody would need to check on them. There was no logical reason why they'd be anywhere else than where they'd been assigned. If anyone bothered to check it would be Lieutenant Katori, but surely he had his hands full now, ensuring that one hundred guests were fully accounted for.
They headed down the stairs. The gas control room was the furthest underground along with the burn room. So few people within Paradise Circus even knew what places lurked under their feet. Everyone knew the gas was released, but nobody had ever stopped and wondered where. A preliminary check was done at 2130 hours. That was when they'd go.
The cameras didn't reach their waiting place at the end of the lowest level of the facility. There would be no avoiding the cameras when the time came, but they would be fine for now. They stopped outside of the storage room, and he could hear the two men breathing behind him. If things had gone as planned, Nino was on the other side of the door. If things hadn't, Aiba and Ohno would already be in custody. Nino would be in his room at the hotel.
Jun knocked lightly, three times as they'd agreed, before pulling the door open.
---
When the door opened, Nino had to squint for a moment. To play it safe, they'd been relying on flashlights since they'd come through the tunnel under the facility and he emerged from the stupid pile of sheets to find himself in this storage room. He saw three people in the doorway, and he'd know the person in front anywhere.
He'd been sitting on the floor, waiting as patiently as he could, but once the door was closed he found himself getting to his feet. He shocked them all, Sakurai Sho from the news too, as he launched himself at Jun, landing a punch right on his face.
"Fuck you!" he seethed as Aiba and Ohno hurried to pull him back, grabbing hold of his arms. "Fuck you, Jun!"
The punch had barely staggered him and left Nino's hand throbbing. Jun took it in stride, even though Nino had never ever hit him before. "You made it," he said with the same finality he did on that last voicemail. The voicemail that had replayed in his head all day, the voicemail Nino thought would be the last thought in his head when Paradise Circus killed him.
"I want to talk to you," he hissed at Jun. "Alone. We have some things to say to each other, I think."
Jun wiped some blood from his nose. What had he expected? Had he expected Nino to be grateful, potentially throwing his own life away in some bullheaded act of treason? Wasn't this the way it was going to go? Jun giving himself up so Nino could live long enough to get away? Jun handed Ohno a key, told them to wait in the storage room across the hall.
The four men departed, Ohno and Aiba leading the way for TV's golden boy and his cameraman, who was oddly camera-free at present. That left him and Jun alone as the door closed, and Nino kept his distance. He'd already punched him - he couldn't do much more. Jun angled one of the flashlights Ohno had set up so that it lit the room better, let them see one another.
"Do we start with you?" Jun asked him, his voice burning with emotion Nino rarely heard from him. "Do we start with you getting a god damned lottery letter and not telling me immediately?"
He crossed his arms. "There's still time to put me back where I belong. You can still walk away from this, keep your job. Be alive when the sun rises tomorrow. I took care of everything. I can go."
"You don't belong in that room," Jun said. "You belong with me."
"That's kind of selfish, don't you think? And a little too dramatic. Don't be stupid, Jun, for god's sake. I'm not worth your life, not worth Ohno and Aiba's either. Terrific guys by the way, are you paying them to be your cannon fodder or are they as stupid as you are?"
Jun took a step forward, menace in his eyes. "You don't get to do this. I need you."
"You don't need me, Jun-kun. The government of Japan sent me a piece of paper telling me how expendable I am, how necessary it is that I no longer exist."
He rubbed his eyes, feeling them itch and burn. Jun was doing all of this for him. Jun, the perfect soldier, was willing to risk absolutely everything for the person he thought Ninomiya Kazunari was.
"I'm a liar," Nino admitted. "I've lied to you from the start. I work at The Vista, but that's not all I am. Don't throw your life away for someone like me."
"Tell me," Jun said, eyes so desperately honest. The eyes he saved for Nino alone. The trust, the honesty in them made Nino almost sick. "Tell me now then. I'm not going to change my mind. If you were cheating, if you're stealing money from me. Hell, if you're a serial killer I'm not going to let you die tonight."
He shut his eyes, unable to keep looking at Jun. "You are a member of the Japanese Ground Self-Defense Force. You're loyal and brave and you do a job that nobody else really wants. I, on the other hand, I am a coward. And a traitor. I am a card-carrying member of the Japan Will Rise Again movement. Although, fine, they don't actually issue cards. I'm a rebel, I'm supposed to be here rebelling. I'm supposed to try to upend the system you fight tirelessly to keep up. I'm supposed to be killing people like you and saving myself."
"That doesn't matter," Jun tried to say, but Nino held up a hand to silence him.
"For months they wanted me to get information out of you. They wanted me to use you. I almost did. I wanted to do it, but I couldn't. I'm not the person you think I am. You deserve better, really. If you stick your neck out for someone, stick it out for Ohno-san. He watched me play Mario for about six hours and didn't say a fucking word. That's someone Japan can't lose. Or that Aiba. He was telling me he just got a girlfriend, how worried he was if your stupid plan didn't work out and they tried to go after her for knowing him. In the grand scheme of things, I'm just the guy you live with. You can find someone new, alright? Be smart. You're the smartest person I know, so don't do this."
Jun closed the distance between them, trapping Nino against one of the storage room shelves, a metal bar jabbing him right in the back.
"If you're dead," Jun murmured, brushing his fingers through Nino's hair. "Then I can't be mad at you for everything you just said to me. I want to go home with you and yell at you for lying to me. I want to go home and force you to eat something with a vegetable in it. I want to fight with you, I want to wake up with you, I want to be with you. And if Paradise Circus says you should die then Paradise Circus is wrong."
"Why?" Nino whispered incredulously before Jun's hands were on his face, pulling him close. "Just tell me why."
"Do I really need to say it?"
Nino supposed he didn't, kissing Jun with everything he had, open and honest with him for what might have been the very first time. He'd been selected in the lottery, and even still he felt like the luckiest man alive. He breathed in the scent of Jun all around him, tasting the dry sweetness of his mouth. If he didn't have Jun, if they'd never met, he'd be locked in that hotel room, waiting for death. Perhaps death still had his number, but he'd have Jun at his side this time.
He finally turned away, embarrassed. They didn't need to keep their partners in crime waiting. "Okay," he said, letting out a deep breath. "Okay. Now what do we do?"
Jun refused to let him go, brushing his lips against Nino's forehead, almost as if Nino would disappear somehow and everything he'd risked would be meaningless. "We wait. Just a little while longer."
---
Aiba munched nervously on the granola bars he'd stolen from the hotel restaurant. There were only minutes left, Jun explained. They'd heard the siren even this far underground. All guests were in their rooms and accounted for. Once the dinner trays were fully delivered, the Ground Unit was off-duty until midnight; they'd all be returning to the command center. Jun's superior was probably going to check in on him, only to discover that Jun was not where he'd said he was. Maybe there'd be a new alarm, Aiba thought, a new alarm just for things that never ever happened around here.
It was odd, the men who were gathered now in the storage room. Of all the places to wait and start a revolution, Aiba hadn't thought it would be a place like this. Or that he'd be one of the people involved. They all sat on the floor in the dim light. Ohno was at his side, checking and rechecking the bag they were bringing in. He was in charge of carrying it in - hauling in bottled water and the rest of the granola and energy bars.
Yasuda the cameraman stared into space. Aiba felt badly for him. It was supposed to have been his big break, accompanying Sakurai-san here and filming. He was a small man, quiet but with a restless energy. Even now his fingers were tapping against the fabric of his jeans, as though he was replaying every song he'd ever liked in his head in case things went wrong. Jun had given him the chance to remain innocent, to leave, but he hadn't gone. Yasuda was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he hadn't run away.
Sakurai was beside him, eyes closed and silent. He was the one they couldn't lose. He'd told them all about his family, how high up his father was in the government. Aiba had to admit that he was not the person he was on TV, the man his mother pitied for being unlucky in his job despite the fame that came with it. Sakurai Sho wasn't a robot after all. He wanted to make things right.
Ninomiya was on Sakurai's other side, the cause of it all. He wondered if one day he'd ever feel enough for another person as Ninomiya and Matsumoto seemed to feel for one another. But he understood it, a little. Jun was able to come to work every day, to be in a place like this because he had Nino. Aiba had found friendship with Ohno here, something more with Shihori here. In a place like Paradise Circus, you couldn't survive on your own.
Jun kept checking his watch. Aiba thought maybe it was the hardest on him. He didn't know Jun that well, or at least he hadn't until today. Today he'd met the real Matsumoto Jun, the person who'd seemed to Aiba before to be so driven, so focused on his job that nothing could change that. But he'd also met Nino today. Maybe he didn't know them, but he wanted to. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with people like them, people who cared, even if they didn't always show it.
He looked at each of the men again in turn, wondering just where he fit. Wondering what part he'd have to play. He said a silent prayer for his mother, his father, his brother, his brother's wife. He said a prayer for Shihori, who had no idea what he was doing tonight. Keep them safe, keep them safe, keep them safe. No matter how stupid I am, keep them safe, he prayed. He said a prayer for the others in the room with him. Don't let me be a burden. Let me be of use.
Jun got to his feet, face as serious as the day Aiba had met him here, thinking he was just another heartless soldier.
"We should go. It's time."
---
It was easier to be on television with millions of potential viewers, Sho thought. Far easier. Matsumoto opened the door. Just around the corner was the room with the switches. Three switches, Matsumoto had explained. The first time set off sleeping gas, the second time poison. Three men in the room to throw the switches, and it was at this time of night that they came down to perform their final check. It was a computerized process, getting the gas ready to pipe through the ducts. But it still required a human to set it in motion. It wouldn't go unless the button was pushed. Humans still had to take responsibility, Sho thought, and he was reminded painfully of his father.
For thirty years he'd worked so hard to grow up to be a man worthy of the faith his father had placed in him. He'd wanted so much to be a dutiful son, to serve the country his father loved. For so long he'd wanted to conform to that ideal, but it wasn't the part he was meant to play in the end. He couldn't be a dutiful son now that he'd seen Paradise Circus with his own eyes.
He took a deep breath. He was to stay back with Ohno and Ninomiya. "We'll be like the back row," Ninomiya said. "That's where you put the healers, the people with less HP. You keep them safe."
"I'm not sure I get your analogy," Sho said.
Ninomiya nodded his head at Matsumoto as he pulled his sidearm from his holster, handing it to Aiba. Yasuda looked petrified to be holding a handgun himself, one of two that Matsumoto had taken from the armory late the night before when he'd started putting his plan into motion. Jun waved them along into the hallway.
"The fighters are in the front row," Ninomiya said quietly. "They're the ones who attack."
Matsumoto took the lead into the corridor, Yasuda and Aiba at his heels. The three Self-Defense Force members who came down to the gas control room would be outfitted the same as Matsumoto with their guns in a side holster. They were well trained, as professional and seasoned as Jun himself - maybe more. But this was the last place they'd expect to be surprised.
The guns were loaded with rubber bullets and from a distance they wouldn't cause any permanent harm. "Aim at the legs," Matsumoto had instructed. "We don't need to hurt them."
Sho held his breath as he watched Jun peer around the corner. He heard the elevator ding, heard boots on the tile. They were coming. Ohno, burden on his back, stood in front of Sho and Ninomiya as Jun made the signal. He, Yasuda, and Aiba whipped around the corner and out of sight.
"Matsumoto...hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
One gun went off. Two shots fired. Three. Four.
"Don't touch it. Don't even think about pulling your sidearm," came Jun's voice then. "Aiba..."
"Matsumoto, are you insane?"
"Yasuda, the door..."
"You son of a bitch! God damned traitor!"
Sho wanted to move, wanted to help, but it wasn't his place to do so. Ohno wouldn't budge anyhow. He listened to the complaints, the groans of pain (he hoped not too horrible) as Yasuda unlocked the door across from the gas control room. The three men were going to be cuffed and locked inside. When Sho heard the door lock again, Jun came back around.
"We're secure. Come on."
---
He'd been working at Paradise Circus for ten years, and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he stepped into the stark white room. It looked like just another storage room, save for just opposite the door where three switches were built into the wall. They were small, almost like light switches, but they had the power to kill. Or at least one of them did.
The three men from the Ground Unit had been subdued and locked away. Ohno could hear their cries until all six of them were inside the gas control room, and Jun closed and locked the door. "They do a standard check," Jun said, examining the small metal panels next to each switch. "If the little light is green, it means the system is running, and a flip of the switch will activate the sleeping gas. Then the system reformats so it can change to the other gas."
Ohno could see that all three green lights were on. All the lives of the people in the hotel, locked away in those rooms...all it took was a flip of a switch and they'd die.
Yasuda held out the gun in his hand. "Please take it," he told Jun. "Please?"
Jun took it. Ohno set down their food and water in the corner. Sitting again. Waiting again. But this time it wouldn't be for as long a time. The control room here was checked once before the men returned at 11:30 PM. So they were expected back upstairs in minutes. More men would come down, and Jun's superiors would definitely get the picture.
None of them ventured within five feet of the switches. Instead they stood around in the center of the room, waiting for the inevitable. Aiba was already apologizing to Yasuda, but the cameraman waved him off. "All part of the show," he said nervously.
The minutes passed, and Ohno found himself thinking about his parents. If this went wrong, if soldiers burst through the doors and riddled them with real bullets, they'd know that Ohno was part of this conspiracy. Would they hurt his mom and dad? And what would they think of him? Would they even believe him capable of something like this? Maybe when he was 20 and arrogant and uncooperative, but not now. Not after ten years watching people die and becoming the Satoshi he was now.
"I just want to say," Jun broke the silence a few moments later. "I want to say thank you. It's been an honor."
There was a knock at the door, and they all froze. They'd definitely opened the storage room, found out what had happened to the other three members of the Ground Unit.
"Corporal Matsumoto!" Ohno recognized that voice. It was the man with the big smile who welcomed guests every morning. He didn't sound like he was smiling. "Corporal, explain yourself."
"They'll break down the door," Nino said quietly.
"Back up," Jun ordered, and the six of them moved until Ohno was a few feet away from one of the switches. Nino was at his side, and he had a smirk on his face. "Aiba-san..."
"Corporal, open this door!"
"I'm very sorry," Aiba mumbled before pointing the gun in his hand at the back of Yasuda's head.
"Just...just don't fire, okay?" the cameraman whispered.
"Matsumoto, I'm giving you to the count of 10..." came the man's voice. "One!"
Jun got behind Sakurai, arm around him and gun to the reporter's temple. He didn't bother to apologize, but Sakurai seemed to take it in stride.
"Two!"
Ohno found himself moving, standing in front of Nino.
"Three!"
He heard the sounds of boots in the hallway.
"Four!"
One, two, three switches behind them. One of them would start the chain.
"Five!"
Aiba wrapped an arm around Yasuda, trying to mimic Jun's stance.
"Six!"
His parents were probably watching television, maybe a baseball game.
"Seven!"
They'd gotten this far, Ohno thought, as he felt Nino's fingers grasp the back of his t-shirt, just to hold on to something.
"Eight!"
Jun took a step forward, giving Sakurai a nudge.
"Nine!"
Ohno took a deep breath.
"Ten!"
Continue to Part 7
The jet coaster at Paradise Circus wasn't the highest or the fastest, but it was still scary. Yasuda-kun sat in the car in front of him and Keiko, filming them without freaking out in the least while they were whipped around corners. Sho had never been a fan of rides or anything with heights, but Keiko had wanted to ride. It was his duty to ride with her.
Corporal Matsumoto was quiet and methodical in the tour he'd given them so far. First they'd been through the gardens, examining the flowers and greenery that had been planted there. To Sho, it seemed the most logical part of the whole facility. There were benches for quiet reflection and a pleasant scent in the air. But few of the "guests" ever bothered to wander around there.
He'd asked Matsumoto why, and he'd only shrugged his shoulders. Soldiers weren't hired for their opinions, Sho realized, especially here. As Matsumoto escorted them toward the hotel with Yasuda filming madly at his heels, Keiko had fallen into step with him.
"There's no need to reflect, not now that we're here. We've been thinking all week," she told him. "About what we're leaving behind. I think Paradise Circus gets that. It wants us to relax and forget. I don't know if it's right or wrong, but it doesn't want us to think. We're already here. There's no point in thinking any more."
For a moment, he regretted not capturing her words with Yasuda's camera, but he'd been having the cameraman film more of the scenery and the employees than Keiko herself as the hours went by. Yasuda had filmed the long hallways of the hotel, the lonely restaurant, the pool, the lobby. Sho wasn't sure what the government's aim had been here, and he remembered his father's words. That Paradise Circus was supposed to be the humane alternative to executing citizens outright.
From the look on some people's faces, sitting alone in the hotel restaurant or glumly holding rings at the ring toss booth, maybe a bullet straight to the head would have been preferable.
When the jet coaster ride ended, a few high school boys stayed strapped into their seats. There wasn't much of a line to speak of, so the staff prepared to get the ride going again. He and Keiko stepped out of the coaster car, and Sho's legs were wobbly as they headed down the exit ramp to find Matsumoto waiting for them. Yasuda turned the camera behind them, filming the coaster taking off from the small station once again.
"Keiko-san, is there anything else you'd care to ride?"
She was tired, and Sho was too. It was nearly 4:00 PM and they'd been up for hours, most of them spent on edge even with the alleged 7:00 PM curfew. "Would it be a bother if I took a nap?" she asked. "I'm sorry if it doesn't make for compelling television."
"I could keep filming the Midway, give the other folks some airtime," Yasuda volunteered. "It's not a problem."
"We're supposed to stay together," Sho noted, catching Matsumoto's watchful eye. "Isn't that right, Corporal?"
Sho hadn't been able to do much investigating of the facilities with the man at his heels all day. He'd been there when they walked, had been there when they ate. He'd only stopped short of following Keiko into the women's restroom.
"If she's in the room with the door locked, it won't be a problem. I can post someone at the door," he said.
"For her own safety."
He radioed on to someone else on his team, and they made their way back to the hotel. Keiko was assigned to room 1 on the second floor, and Sho saw obvious exertion on Matsumoto's part as he got the door open. It was heavier than a hotel door usually was. Yasuda was allowed to film the bed area and the bathroom. In every respect it looked like a normal business hotel room, but Sho was catching on.
Everyone was to return to the hotel at 7:00 PM. There was a room for every guest within, and none of the windows could open. Gas, Sho realized. They did it with some sort of gas. He said nothing of the sort to Keiko, looking away as she adjusted the pillows, arranging herself on top of the bedspread.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Sho-san, I feel as though I've seen all there is to see."
Matsumoto was staring out the window, Yasuda rummaging through some pens and paper on the desk to document everything available. He sat down on the bed, understanding her reluctance to keep wandering around this place. "You'll be safe in here," he said quietly. "I'll come back before 7:00, get some more of your thoughts if that's alright with you."
"That's alright with me," she assured him. "And Sho-san?"
He knew Matsumoto had probably been ordered to listen in, make sure Sho wasn't plotting any sort of heroics. He leaned in until Keiko's lips were right next to his ear.
"Do you think...do you think if people see this it's going to change anyone's mind?" she whispered.
"I don't know."
"But you'll try?"
There was a knock at the door. Matsumoto's colleague had arrived to ensure that nobody got into Keiko's room...and that Keiko herself couldn't leave.
"I'll try," he told her, getting up from the bed and not looking back. He followed Matsumoto from the room, heading for the stairwell.
"You'll be able to stay with her until her dinner tray arrives. Then we'll go to the command center," Matsumoto reminded him. "I'm sorry I can't do any more."
"I want to see it," Sho said calmly.
"You've seen everything," Matsumoto said. They paused in the stairwell, Matsumoto down a few steps and looking up at him and Yasuda with a warning look in his eyes.
"We don't have to film it," he said, feeling anger bubbling up in his gut, thinking of Keiko's exhausted face. It was cruel, forcing people to endure a day like this. Their final day alive, playing through this farce the government had cooked up half a century ago. "We don't need the cameras, but I want to see it. I want to see where the gas comes from. I want to see how we kill them."
Matsumoto visibly tensed at the word "we," but Sho couldn't take much more of this place. The place his father had praised. What about this place, about this treatment made them better than any of the other nations subjugated to China and Russia? Every night he praised the heroes who'd given their lives here, never knowing just what they'd been forced to endure. And for what?
"You know I can't show you that."
"Yasuda, turn your camera on."
"Sho-san," the cameraman muttered.
"Turn it on right now."
He could hear Yasuda fumbling with it behind him, watched Matsumoto's eyes burn a hole through him. He cleared his throat as soon as Yasuda tapped him on the shoulder to let him know they were rolling.
"Matsumoto-san, is it true that the government of Japan uses poison gas to murder one hundred citizens every day and has used poison gas to murder one hundred citizens a day for forty-eight years? That's what, a million people who have wandered these grounds? Nearly two million? This is what freedom costs, Matsumoto-san?"
Matsumoto said nothing. Sho could hear his father's voice in his head, begging him to stop. He was just supposed to document the day, not offer emotional commentary. A hypocrite like him, the man who read the names...what could he possibly have to say about Paradise Circus? Someone who lied every night, reminded everyone how important this place was. Who was he to pass judgment? And yet, he couldn't stop himself.
"And what happens after they're murdered, Matsumoto-san? What do you do with them?"
"Sakurai-san, I'm only asking once. Turn your camera off."
Sho didn't care. They were never going to let him air it anyway, if they didn't have him executed outright. "Yasuda, keep filming. Tell me then, Corporal. Tell me something, would you?" He was being unfair to him. He was being cruel. Matsumoto Jun was just doing his job, and Sho was doing everything but his own. "Hasn't this place had any effect on you? Doesn't it make you angry?"
"Shut up," Matsumoto said, his hand dangerously moving to the gun at his side. "You don't know anything about me."
"Yasuda, keep filming," Sho said again. "So you think what happens here is okay? What would it take to make you change your mind? How many people would have to die? Who would have to die? Your mother? A brother? A lover?"
He felt the wind go out of him as Matsumoto shoved him against the wall, strong hand around his throat.
"How badly would you like to find out?"
---
If Ninomiya was pissed off that Ohno had been shadowing him all day, he didn't seem to show it. That was the good thing about Paradise Circus, that everyone through the gate each day had no preconceived notions about how things operated. He supposed that the guy would be upset if he knew all the fuss his selection in the lottery had caused, but if this was the only way Paradise was going to change, he was grateful that Nino had been chosen.
Ohno had followed Ninomiya through the Midway, understanding the sadness and disbelief in his eyes as he discovered just what the government had cooked up for his last day alive. Nino had opted against lunch, choosing to spend the rest of his day at the hotel with some games. They were a few systems behind since few guests ever requested to borrow them, but Nino didn't seem to mind.
He probably assumed Ohno was a rule enforcer, a necessary evil, so he hadn't said a thing as Ohno spent the next several hours sitting in room 59 in silence, watching Mario jump and shoot fireballs. He'd never been this close to one of the guests for such a long time before in all his years at Paradise, usually observing goings-on from his lifeguard seat.
"Ohno-san," Ninomiya said, eyes not leaving the TV screen. "Do you kill me? Are you the one who does it? Is that why you're here with me? Because if so, I'd rather you just do it already."
He checked the clock on the bedside table. 6:23. Just about time to go.
"You aren't going to die."
That was enough to get him to pause the game and turn around, eyeing him cynically. "Is that a joke?"
"No."
Nino got up, turned off the game system and the TV both. "There's vents in this room. I was going through this whole day expecting to be gassed in the end. And now you're telling me I won't die."
There was a knock at the door. Right on schedule. "Hello, it's Aiba. I've brought the sheets you requested," came Aiba's voice from the outside.
Nino just stood there confused as Ohno moved to the door and opened it, allowing Aiba and the laundry cart full of bed sheets inside. "I didn't ask for any sheets," Nino mumbled.
"He doesn't know?" Aiba asked, slightly irritated. "You were supposed to tell him..."
"Tell me what?" Nino demanded. Ohno watched him clutch the Famicom controller in his hands, grip tightening around the cord. He stared Ohno down. This had been a ridiculous plan from the start. "Tell me what?!"
"We know Matsumoto Jun-kun," Ohno explained gently, holding up his hands in hopes that Nino would take the news without running away or freaking out. The last thing they needed to do was subdue the poor guy. "He asked us to help you. To keep you safe."
Nino's face went white as the sheets in the cart Aiba had pushed in. "He what?"
Aiba moved from foot to foot, nervous, and Ohno wondered if this was going to backfire before it even got started. "Everyone's confined to their rooms at 7:00. You're sealed in by 9:00 and the gas comes at midnight," he explained, voice shaking. "Which is why we have to get you out now."
"I don't understand you," Nino mumbled. "Jun's a soldier. He would never, ever break the rules. You don't know him. And you...you work here. Is this a trap? Do you just go after suspicious people? Look, I don't know what kind of fucking game you're playing here, but this place is cruel, you know? I can't take any more misdirection. I can't take the theme park and the smiling faces and the new sheets for the bed. I can't."
He backed away from them until he was against the wall, trembling.
"I came here ready to die. I can't deal with anything else. I did everything they asked me to do. I wanted to hurt you, all fucking day, I wanted to do something. I wanted to fight it. But I've given up, okay? Just...please kill me if it's your job to kill me. Don't bring Jun into it." Ohno's heart broke when he saw Nino's eyes fill with tears. "Please don't make this about Jun. Please don't tell him I'm here. Please!"
Aiba moved to comfort him, but Ohno stopped him with a hand to his arm. "Aiba-chan..."
"I don't think you know Jun, either," Aiba protested. "He's doing this to help you! He cares enough about you to break the rules! Do you get that? Do you get what it took for him to go this far?"
"Then where is he?" Nino asked angrily, not bothering to wipe his eyes. "Where is he, huh?"
Ohno took a step forward, keeping his hands up. "I told you. He asked us to help you. We work here, me and Aiba. And we can't deal with this place any longer. Paradise needs to stop. If it was up to me, you'd stay in this room, but Jun-kun's the one in charge of all this. We have to get you out of here, but you have to trust us. Please."
"Almost fifty years," Nino said. "People have died here every day for fifty years. Nobody's ever been saved. Nobody."
"There's no guarantee that we'll succeed," Ohno admitted. "But Jun thinks you're worth saving so we're going to try. Would you rather stay in here and wait for the gas to come or take your chances?"
Nino still looked dubious, but his eyes started darting from vent to vent, to the certain death that would disperse in less than six hours. "What do I have to do?"
Aiba started pulling the sheets out of the cart, revealing bottles of water and trays of snack food and granola bars. Probably more than they needed, but who knew what was going to happen that night? "These go under your blanket. This is you," Ohno explained, balling up the sheets. "When they come with the dinner tray and open the door, they'll see that you're under the covers. They don't bother people who are asleep. You come with us."
"You're pushing me out of here in a laundry cart?" Nino asked incredulously. "This isn't a silly movie, this is life and death. Not just mine."
"You can take that up with Jun-kun then," Aiba said, gesturing to the cart. "Come on, hop in."
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
Ohno finished shoving the sheets under the blankets. It did mostly look like someone was under there. "Because I've called you Nino this whole day. How else would I know to call you that?"
Nino looked between him and Aiba, still hurting, still terrified, but he reluctantly clambered into the cart, allowing Aiba to throw some of the spare sheets over him.
"What about everyone else?" Nino asked, voice muffled by the sheets on top of him. "What about Kitagawa Keiko and all the others? I don't suppose you have a cart for everyone."
"We don't," Aiba said. "We just have to hope Jun knows what he's doing."
The sheets shuffled around a bit. "And what exactly is he doing?"
---
He hadn't expected Sakurai Sho to arrive at Paradise Circus with any agenda other than propaganda. Surely his presence here had been approved to keep Paradise going. And yet the man's calm, his pleasant TV persona had been worn down over the course of the day.
Even now as they sat with Kitagawa Keiko in the final minutes before 1900 hours, Jun could see that he'd underestimated him. He'd been so close to taking the camera out of Yasuda's hands, throwing it on the ground and seeing it smashed to pieces. Sakurai had provoked him, tried to get a rise out of him. It had worked, and it had amazingly gone in Jun's favor.
"I'm supposed to sell the Japanese people on this place," Sho had told him in the stairwell, bitterness in his voice. "That's impossible. Literally impossible."
He'd expected Sakurai Sho to be another puppet, another mouthpiece. Where he thought he would have had to coerce the man and Yasuda at gunpoint, Sakurai had seemed amenable, almost enthusiastic about Jun's half-assed plan.
"We could all die," he'd told Sakurai. "There's a high probability it won't work out."
"I leave this place after midnight with the footage on that camera and I'm a dead man anyway."
Jun had given Yasuda the chance to walk away, but he'd refused. "I can't," the cameraman had said. "Not after the things I've seen."
So here they were, recording Kitagawa Keiko's "final" message. Jun stayed out of sight of the camera, watching Sakurai try and keep it together. He'd told the man about Nino, too. Best he knew exactly why Jun had turned traitor. He knew that Sakurai wanted to bring Keiko along too, wanted to keep her with them. But there were already too many variables. They couldn't risk it, and Sakurai was already the best bargaining chip they had.
Yasuda finally turned the camera off. It was time. Jun knew that Aiba and Ohno were already on their way, or should have been by now. "Let's go," Jun said. "I have to bring you both to the command center."
Sakurai met his eyes. "We should keep the camera in here. Keep it safe."
Keiko was confused. "Sho-san, what do you mean?"
The room would be sealed at 2100 hours. If they failed and the camera was here, it would be tossed in the trash and burned. If they failed and the camera was with them, it would be burned too. It didn't really matter where they left it. But if it made Sakurai feel better, made him more agreeable, then Jun would do anything at this point.
"If there's anything you don't feel comfortable saying with us around," Sho lied to her. "Then use this time to record it."
They left Kitagawa Keiko behind with the camera in her hand just as the staff arrived with a dinner tray for her. As they left the hotel, they moved through the halls and the lobby as conspicuously as they could. The more people that saw them heading for the command center as expected, the more time they'd have before someone got curious. Jun even radioed ahead to Lieutenant Katori, saying he was en route with Sakurai and Yasuda in tow. That Kitagawa Keiko was safely in her room for good. It felt strange lying to his superior, something that would have been unthinkable even two days earlier.
As they headed down the hill, Sakurai stayed close at his back. Even then they could hear the screams, the protests as members of the Ground Unit and the civilian staff chased them down, forced them to the hotel.
"My father said people brought here were treated with respect and dignity," Sakurai murmured. "I suppose he never got a high enough security clearance to learn what happens when it's time for the carnival to close."
He wanted to tell Sakurai to shut up, to just stay quiet, but what did it matter? Everything the man found abhorrent about this place Jun found abhorrent too - he'd just never had the courage to do anything about it. He'd never been convinced that the system could change. Sakurai seemed to want to believe they had a fighting chance. Yasuda seemed nervous without the camera in hand, without a way to channel his energy. He jangled the change around in the pockets of his pants, humming quietly to himself as they approached the command center.
Jun nodded to the person manning the door. They were on camera entering just after 1900 hours. There was a room in the second sub-basement where Jun was supposed to bring them, where they were expected to wait out the next five hours. There was even a television hooked up to Channel One in there if Sakurai was vain enough to want to watch his own program.
They took the elevator down as expected. Jun whispered for them to walk normally as they exited the elevator, bypassing the necessary door. They weren't waiting it out in there. He knew exactly where other members of the unit were stationed on the floor. Nakamaru was on guard in the north corridor, just in front of the armory door, and Tanaka was always trying to flirt with Corporal Ishihara outside of the control room. Even a day like today wouldn't stop him.
Jun was right, marching right to the south end of the floor, pulling out the key they'd found him trustworthy enough to keep. He felt the slightest regret as he slipped it into the lock for the stairwell door. Ten years in the life, the only work life he'd known, and he was throwing it all away. Eighteen year old Matsumoto Jun, wanting so badly to fit in, to be a part of something, to protect his country and his family - he would despise Jun now. But eighteen year old Matsumoto Jun hadn't met Ninomiya Kazunari. He couldn't understand.
He waited until Sakurai and Yasuda were on the landing with him, and he closed the stairwell door firmly, relocking it. If they'd seen the three of them go this way on the cameras, he had about 30 seconds before the alarms would blare and other members of the unit would come running.
He watched the seconds tick by on his watch, letting them count down as the three of them stood there in the stairwell, the orange emergency lights casting an eerie glow all around. If they got past this, they'd be in the clear for a few hours. Corporal Matsumoto Jun was trustworthy - nobody would need to check on them. There was no logical reason why they'd be anywhere else than where they'd been assigned. If anyone bothered to check it would be Lieutenant Katori, but surely he had his hands full now, ensuring that one hundred guests were fully accounted for.
They headed down the stairs. The gas control room was the furthest underground along with the burn room. So few people within Paradise Circus even knew what places lurked under their feet. Everyone knew the gas was released, but nobody had ever stopped and wondered where. A preliminary check was done at 2130 hours. That was when they'd go.
The cameras didn't reach their waiting place at the end of the lowest level of the facility. There would be no avoiding the cameras when the time came, but they would be fine for now. They stopped outside of the storage room, and he could hear the two men breathing behind him. If things had gone as planned, Nino was on the other side of the door. If things hadn't, Aiba and Ohno would already be in custody. Nino would be in his room at the hotel.
Jun knocked lightly, three times as they'd agreed, before pulling the door open.
---
When the door opened, Nino had to squint for a moment. To play it safe, they'd been relying on flashlights since they'd come through the tunnel under the facility and he emerged from the stupid pile of sheets to find himself in this storage room. He saw three people in the doorway, and he'd know the person in front anywhere.
He'd been sitting on the floor, waiting as patiently as he could, but once the door was closed he found himself getting to his feet. He shocked them all, Sakurai Sho from the news too, as he launched himself at Jun, landing a punch right on his face.
"Fuck you!" he seethed as Aiba and Ohno hurried to pull him back, grabbing hold of his arms. "Fuck you, Jun!"
The punch had barely staggered him and left Nino's hand throbbing. Jun took it in stride, even though Nino had never ever hit him before. "You made it," he said with the same finality he did on that last voicemail. The voicemail that had replayed in his head all day, the voicemail Nino thought would be the last thought in his head when Paradise Circus killed him.
"I want to talk to you," he hissed at Jun. "Alone. We have some things to say to each other, I think."
Jun wiped some blood from his nose. What had he expected? Had he expected Nino to be grateful, potentially throwing his own life away in some bullheaded act of treason? Wasn't this the way it was going to go? Jun giving himself up so Nino could live long enough to get away? Jun handed Ohno a key, told them to wait in the storage room across the hall.
The four men departed, Ohno and Aiba leading the way for TV's golden boy and his cameraman, who was oddly camera-free at present. That left him and Jun alone as the door closed, and Nino kept his distance. He'd already punched him - he couldn't do much more. Jun angled one of the flashlights Ohno had set up so that it lit the room better, let them see one another.
"Do we start with you?" Jun asked him, his voice burning with emotion Nino rarely heard from him. "Do we start with you getting a god damned lottery letter and not telling me immediately?"
He crossed his arms. "There's still time to put me back where I belong. You can still walk away from this, keep your job. Be alive when the sun rises tomorrow. I took care of everything. I can go."
"You don't belong in that room," Jun said. "You belong with me."
"That's kind of selfish, don't you think? And a little too dramatic. Don't be stupid, Jun, for god's sake. I'm not worth your life, not worth Ohno and Aiba's either. Terrific guys by the way, are you paying them to be your cannon fodder or are they as stupid as you are?"
Jun took a step forward, menace in his eyes. "You don't get to do this. I need you."
"You don't need me, Jun-kun. The government of Japan sent me a piece of paper telling me how expendable I am, how necessary it is that I no longer exist."
He rubbed his eyes, feeling them itch and burn. Jun was doing all of this for him. Jun, the perfect soldier, was willing to risk absolutely everything for the person he thought Ninomiya Kazunari was.
"I'm a liar," Nino admitted. "I've lied to you from the start. I work at The Vista, but that's not all I am. Don't throw your life away for someone like me."
"Tell me," Jun said, eyes so desperately honest. The eyes he saved for Nino alone. The trust, the honesty in them made Nino almost sick. "Tell me now then. I'm not going to change my mind. If you were cheating, if you're stealing money from me. Hell, if you're a serial killer I'm not going to let you die tonight."
He shut his eyes, unable to keep looking at Jun. "You are a member of the Japanese Ground Self-Defense Force. You're loyal and brave and you do a job that nobody else really wants. I, on the other hand, I am a coward. And a traitor. I am a card-carrying member of the Japan Will Rise Again movement. Although, fine, they don't actually issue cards. I'm a rebel, I'm supposed to be here rebelling. I'm supposed to try to upend the system you fight tirelessly to keep up. I'm supposed to be killing people like you and saving myself."
"That doesn't matter," Jun tried to say, but Nino held up a hand to silence him.
"For months they wanted me to get information out of you. They wanted me to use you. I almost did. I wanted to do it, but I couldn't. I'm not the person you think I am. You deserve better, really. If you stick your neck out for someone, stick it out for Ohno-san. He watched me play Mario for about six hours and didn't say a fucking word. That's someone Japan can't lose. Or that Aiba. He was telling me he just got a girlfriend, how worried he was if your stupid plan didn't work out and they tried to go after her for knowing him. In the grand scheme of things, I'm just the guy you live with. You can find someone new, alright? Be smart. You're the smartest person I know, so don't do this."
Jun closed the distance between them, trapping Nino against one of the storage room shelves, a metal bar jabbing him right in the back.
"If you're dead," Jun murmured, brushing his fingers through Nino's hair. "Then I can't be mad at you for everything you just said to me. I want to go home with you and yell at you for lying to me. I want to go home and force you to eat something with a vegetable in it. I want to fight with you, I want to wake up with you, I want to be with you. And if Paradise Circus says you should die then Paradise Circus is wrong."
"Why?" Nino whispered incredulously before Jun's hands were on his face, pulling him close. "Just tell me why."
"Do I really need to say it?"
Nino supposed he didn't, kissing Jun with everything he had, open and honest with him for what might have been the very first time. He'd been selected in the lottery, and even still he felt like the luckiest man alive. He breathed in the scent of Jun all around him, tasting the dry sweetness of his mouth. If he didn't have Jun, if they'd never met, he'd be locked in that hotel room, waiting for death. Perhaps death still had his number, but he'd have Jun at his side this time.
He finally turned away, embarrassed. They didn't need to keep their partners in crime waiting. "Okay," he said, letting out a deep breath. "Okay. Now what do we do?"
Jun refused to let him go, brushing his lips against Nino's forehead, almost as if Nino would disappear somehow and everything he'd risked would be meaningless. "We wait. Just a little while longer."
---
Aiba munched nervously on the granola bars he'd stolen from the hotel restaurant. There were only minutes left, Jun explained. They'd heard the siren even this far underground. All guests were in their rooms and accounted for. Once the dinner trays were fully delivered, the Ground Unit was off-duty until midnight; they'd all be returning to the command center. Jun's superior was probably going to check in on him, only to discover that Jun was not where he'd said he was. Maybe there'd be a new alarm, Aiba thought, a new alarm just for things that never ever happened around here.
It was odd, the men who were gathered now in the storage room. Of all the places to wait and start a revolution, Aiba hadn't thought it would be a place like this. Or that he'd be one of the people involved. They all sat on the floor in the dim light. Ohno was at his side, checking and rechecking the bag they were bringing in. He was in charge of carrying it in - hauling in bottled water and the rest of the granola and energy bars.
Yasuda the cameraman stared into space. Aiba felt badly for him. It was supposed to have been his big break, accompanying Sakurai-san here and filming. He was a small man, quiet but with a restless energy. Even now his fingers were tapping against the fabric of his jeans, as though he was replaying every song he'd ever liked in his head in case things went wrong. Jun had given him the chance to remain innocent, to leave, but he hadn't gone. Yasuda was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he hadn't run away.
Sakurai was beside him, eyes closed and silent. He was the one they couldn't lose. He'd told them all about his family, how high up his father was in the government. Aiba had to admit that he was not the person he was on TV, the man his mother pitied for being unlucky in his job despite the fame that came with it. Sakurai Sho wasn't a robot after all. He wanted to make things right.
Ninomiya was on Sakurai's other side, the cause of it all. He wondered if one day he'd ever feel enough for another person as Ninomiya and Matsumoto seemed to feel for one another. But he understood it, a little. Jun was able to come to work every day, to be in a place like this because he had Nino. Aiba had found friendship with Ohno here, something more with Shihori here. In a place like Paradise Circus, you couldn't survive on your own.
Jun kept checking his watch. Aiba thought maybe it was the hardest on him. He didn't know Jun that well, or at least he hadn't until today. Today he'd met the real Matsumoto Jun, the person who'd seemed to Aiba before to be so driven, so focused on his job that nothing could change that. But he'd also met Nino today. Maybe he didn't know them, but he wanted to. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with people like them, people who cared, even if they didn't always show it.
He looked at each of the men again in turn, wondering just where he fit. Wondering what part he'd have to play. He said a silent prayer for his mother, his father, his brother, his brother's wife. He said a prayer for Shihori, who had no idea what he was doing tonight. Keep them safe, keep them safe, keep them safe. No matter how stupid I am, keep them safe, he prayed. He said a prayer for the others in the room with him. Don't let me be a burden. Let me be of use.
Jun got to his feet, face as serious as the day Aiba had met him here, thinking he was just another heartless soldier.
"We should go. It's time."
---
It was easier to be on television with millions of potential viewers, Sho thought. Far easier. Matsumoto opened the door. Just around the corner was the room with the switches. Three switches, Matsumoto had explained. The first time set off sleeping gas, the second time poison. Three men in the room to throw the switches, and it was at this time of night that they came down to perform their final check. It was a computerized process, getting the gas ready to pipe through the ducts. But it still required a human to set it in motion. It wouldn't go unless the button was pushed. Humans still had to take responsibility, Sho thought, and he was reminded painfully of his father.
For thirty years he'd worked so hard to grow up to be a man worthy of the faith his father had placed in him. He'd wanted so much to be a dutiful son, to serve the country his father loved. For so long he'd wanted to conform to that ideal, but it wasn't the part he was meant to play in the end. He couldn't be a dutiful son now that he'd seen Paradise Circus with his own eyes.
He took a deep breath. He was to stay back with Ohno and Ninomiya. "We'll be like the back row," Ninomiya said. "That's where you put the healers, the people with less HP. You keep them safe."
"I'm not sure I get your analogy," Sho said.
Ninomiya nodded his head at Matsumoto as he pulled his sidearm from his holster, handing it to Aiba. Yasuda looked petrified to be holding a handgun himself, one of two that Matsumoto had taken from the armory late the night before when he'd started putting his plan into motion. Jun waved them along into the hallway.
"The fighters are in the front row," Ninomiya said quietly. "They're the ones who attack."
Matsumoto took the lead into the corridor, Yasuda and Aiba at his heels. The three Self-Defense Force members who came down to the gas control room would be outfitted the same as Matsumoto with their guns in a side holster. They were well trained, as professional and seasoned as Jun himself - maybe more. But this was the last place they'd expect to be surprised.
The guns were loaded with rubber bullets and from a distance they wouldn't cause any permanent harm. "Aim at the legs," Matsumoto had instructed. "We don't need to hurt them."
Sho held his breath as he watched Jun peer around the corner. He heard the elevator ding, heard boots on the tile. They were coming. Ohno, burden on his back, stood in front of Sho and Ninomiya as Jun made the signal. He, Yasuda, and Aiba whipped around the corner and out of sight.
"Matsumoto...hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
One gun went off. Two shots fired. Three. Four.
"Don't touch it. Don't even think about pulling your sidearm," came Jun's voice then. "Aiba..."
"Matsumoto, are you insane?"
"Yasuda, the door..."
"You son of a bitch! God damned traitor!"
Sho wanted to move, wanted to help, but it wasn't his place to do so. Ohno wouldn't budge anyhow. He listened to the complaints, the groans of pain (he hoped not too horrible) as Yasuda unlocked the door across from the gas control room. The three men were going to be cuffed and locked inside. When Sho heard the door lock again, Jun came back around.
"We're secure. Come on."
---
He'd been working at Paradise Circus for ten years, and he felt a shiver go down his spine as he stepped into the stark white room. It looked like just another storage room, save for just opposite the door where three switches were built into the wall. They were small, almost like light switches, but they had the power to kill. Or at least one of them did.
The three men from the Ground Unit had been subdued and locked away. Ohno could hear their cries until all six of them were inside the gas control room, and Jun closed and locked the door. "They do a standard check," Jun said, examining the small metal panels next to each switch. "If the little light is green, it means the system is running, and a flip of the switch will activate the sleeping gas. Then the system reformats so it can change to the other gas."
Ohno could see that all three green lights were on. All the lives of the people in the hotel, locked away in those rooms...all it took was a flip of a switch and they'd die.
Yasuda held out the gun in his hand. "Please take it," he told Jun. "Please?"
Jun took it. Ohno set down their food and water in the corner. Sitting again. Waiting again. But this time it wouldn't be for as long a time. The control room here was checked once before the men returned at 11:30 PM. So they were expected back upstairs in minutes. More men would come down, and Jun's superiors would definitely get the picture.
None of them ventured within five feet of the switches. Instead they stood around in the center of the room, waiting for the inevitable. Aiba was already apologizing to Yasuda, but the cameraman waved him off. "All part of the show," he said nervously.
The minutes passed, and Ohno found himself thinking about his parents. If this went wrong, if soldiers burst through the doors and riddled them with real bullets, they'd know that Ohno was part of this conspiracy. Would they hurt his mom and dad? And what would they think of him? Would they even believe him capable of something like this? Maybe when he was 20 and arrogant and uncooperative, but not now. Not after ten years watching people die and becoming the Satoshi he was now.
"I just want to say," Jun broke the silence a few moments later. "I want to say thank you. It's been an honor."
There was a knock at the door, and they all froze. They'd definitely opened the storage room, found out what had happened to the other three members of the Ground Unit.
"Corporal Matsumoto!" Ohno recognized that voice. It was the man with the big smile who welcomed guests every morning. He didn't sound like he was smiling. "Corporal, explain yourself."
"They'll break down the door," Nino said quietly.
"Back up," Jun ordered, and the six of them moved until Ohno was a few feet away from one of the switches. Nino was at his side, and he had a smirk on his face. "Aiba-san..."
"Corporal, open this door!"
"I'm very sorry," Aiba mumbled before pointing the gun in his hand at the back of Yasuda's head.
"Just...just don't fire, okay?" the cameraman whispered.
"Matsumoto, I'm giving you to the count of 10..." came the man's voice. "One!"
Jun got behind Sakurai, arm around him and gun to the reporter's temple. He didn't bother to apologize, but Sakurai seemed to take it in stride.
"Two!"
Ohno found himself moving, standing in front of Nino.
"Three!"
He heard the sounds of boots in the hallway.
"Four!"
One, two, three switches behind them. One of them would start the chain.
"Five!"
Aiba wrapped an arm around Yasuda, trying to mimic Jun's stance.
"Six!"
His parents were probably watching television, maybe a baseball game.
"Seven!"
They'd gotten this far, Ohno thought, as he felt Nino's fingers grasp the back of his t-shirt, just to hold on to something.
"Eight!"
Jun took a step forward, giving Sakurai a nudge.
"Nine!"
Ohno took a deep breath.
"Ten!"
Continue to Part 7