The Purpose of Conflict

As soon as I entered my apartment, I slipped my shoes off at the door and went straight to my bedroom, falling face-first onto my bed and groaning into the sheets. I lay there for a while, before finally letting out a sigh, rolling over onto my back and staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that question since I asked myself on the way home; do I really want someone to put an end to world peace? That doesn’t sound very heroic… I mean, I can’t deny that life is better for everyone, there’s no war, no disease, no hunger… So what if I’m unhappy, things are better this way. I’m just-

My stomach growled.

-Hungry?

A single light came on in the kitchen as I waved my hand in front of the control panel and entered the room, strolling toward the fridge. According to a historical article I once read, in the past, fridge doors would often get stuck and require force to open, but now? I pulled the handle and watched as the door glided open effortlessly. Resting my arm on top of it, I scanned the space to see what I had in stock. Most food was free, apart from “junk” foods, which counted as optional and had to be paid for from my recreation account, but I hadn’t been to a grocery in a while, so my options were… sparse.

A tomato, pickled radishes, mustard… that leftover salmon from last week… Those and a handful of other assorted food items floated in midair inside the fridge, held in place by the same stasis field that kept them fresh. For some reason the thought of the week-old salmon made me cringe. It wasn’t like it was bad or anything, food kept forever as long as it stayed in stasis.

After staring into the eclectic waste for another minute, I closed the door and checked the freezer; despite stasis fields keeping matter in a consistent state, different foods still needed to be held in stasis at different temperatures, otherwise they’d be kept in a perpetual state of going bad, so most fridges were still designed the retro way: Cold on the bottom, frozen on the top.

The freezer was empty, save for a single frozen taiyaki1 in the back. I stared at it, the dead fish eye staring back, before giving in to temptation and plucking it from the freezer, shivering at the way the stasis field felt on my arm. I still remembered Mom teasing me, saying my face would freeze too if I stuck it too far inside…

I opened the fridge door again, as if expecting the salmon to have mysteriously vanished since I last saw it, but no, there it was, still there. Still feeling uneasy about it, I slowly reached in, shivering once again at the “icky” sensation of stasis and grabbing the fish. As soon as it left the safety of the fridge, the raw fillet went limp in my hand, regaining all of its usual wet and fishy texture all at once. This’ll probably be fine, right? I thought, grimacing.

It was completely fine, in fact, once fried and served with rice and a bit of soy sauce. It wasn’t exactly a restaurant-quality dish, but the salmon was fresh and the rice was filling, and that was enough. The taiyaki served as a thematic palette cleanser, a fish to finish my fish. Not the best dinner I’d had, but not the worst either. As I moved my dishes to the sink to rinse them, my mind began to wander again, now that there was no hunger to distract me from my thoughts; why did I let that girl escape? I asked. Am I secretly rooting for someone who said they want to end world peace?

Suddenly I just felt tired. Piling my dishes in the sink for tomorrow, I shut the faucet off with a wave and moved to the hand dryer, the warm air curling around my fingers like a gentle breeze. Satisfied that every last drop of water had been swept away, I left the kitchen, turning off the light as I passed, and returned to my bedroom, letting the door fall shut behind me. Slowly lying back, I draped one arm over my face and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep…

I found myself on the battlefield again, smoke blowing in the wind behind me as I stood before the towering mobile fortress, weapon in hand. Steadying myself, I raised the rifle and took a deep breath, zeroing in on my target. But when I looked through the scope, it was not the cold, piercing green eye of Makuma Non that stared back, but instead the wide green eyes of an agent of S.K.U.L.L….

“You dare challenge the might of S.K.U.L.L.?” the girl proclaimed, opening her cloak with a dramatic sweeping gesture. “What makes you think you can stop us, when all others before you have failed?”

My own words, thrown back at me. I hesitated, lowering my rifle. She’s right, I thought. What gives me the right to act the hero, to claim I’ll win even though so many people better than me have lost? Think about Captain Hoshiin, or Kurotsu, all the people who have sacrificed themselves to defeat S.K.U.L.L.. Why would you do any better?

Suddenly, I had my answer. I lifted my rifle back up, taking aim as I replied. “I’ll win because I have to,” I called out. “Because if I don’t defeat you right here and now, then I’ll lose, and I’ll be destroyed. I’ll win because I have no other choice!”

Green eyes flashed approvingly. “Good answer,” she replied, then turned to look up at the command center of her fortress, pointing at me. “Fire! Destroy those who would stand in the way of S.K.U.L.L.!”

I watched as the massive Extermination Cannon on top of the fortress, the one that had taken out my entire unit with a single blast, slowly turned to aim at me. The giant skull on the end—had that always been there?—opened its mouth to reveal the dark depths of the barrel, an electric hum beginning to fill the air again as it charged. Yet despite my situation, I was grinning. These are the kinds of impossible odds…

The lights running along the sides of the cannon started to glow with burning green energy.

…that make…

The darkened barrel filled with light as it prepared to fire.

…heroes!

Before the cannon could fire a single shot, a hail of blaster fire rained down on the mobile fortress, energy bolts shattering the command center’s window, eliminating the agents of S.K.U.L.L. operating it. Larger, slower bolts pounded the place where Kurotsu’s first shot had hit, weakening the support until it collapsed, the entire command center and the cannon on top of it leaning to one side. Their commander’s eyes burned brighter as she whirled to face the source of the oncoming fire.

“Who dares?!” she bellowed, searching the smoking battlefield for the brave survivors. I just folded my arms across my chest, not even bothering to look. I didn’t need to. After all, who else would come to my rescue at a time like this?

Sure enough, a gust of wind came blowing across the battlefield, clearing the smoke to reveal my comrades standing behind me, battered but not beaten, armed and ready to take on the enemy. Captain Hoshiin stepped forward to stand beside me, Kurotsu draped over his back. The sniper turned to me and smirked. “Looks like you weren’t the only one after all,” he quipped. “Thanks for distracting her long enough for us to get together.”

“Well, somebody had to cover for you after you whiffed that first shot.” I replied, shaking my head.

“Enough chit-chat,” Hoshiin interrupted. “We’ll take on the fortress from here. Can I trust you to take down their commander, Kanahei?”

Looking down at the rifle in my hands, then up to the fortress, where the commander of S.K.U.L.L. stood waiting for me, I nodded. “You can count on me, sir.”

Hoshiin smiled. “Then let’s go out there and be heroes.”

As I scrambled up one of the legs of the walking fortress, I paused mid-climb, looking down at my comrades charging forward, gunning down legions of S.K.U.L.L. agents. Nodding to myself, I looked up and resumed climbing. Eventually my hands reached the edge of the main platform and I hauled myself up, rising to my feet. As I did so, my eyes traveled up my waiting nemesis, from purple boots to white bone armor and finally to her face, uncovered, blonde hair blowing in the wind.

“So, you made it after all,” she remarked, uncrossing her arms and striding to stand in the painted circle at the center of the platform.

“Like I said, I’ll do it because I have to,” I replied, adjusting my uniform and stepping forward as well. “You’d be surprised what people can do when they have a reason to fight.”

She smirked. “Would I, now? Well then…” Her pupils dilated and she rushed forward, her fingers interlacing with mine as she grabbed my hands and attempted to force me to my knees, leaning in close with a manic grin. “Let’s see if you can defeat me before I destroy you!”

I curled my fingers around her hands in return, still smiling as I pushed forward until the two of us were standing, locked in combat. “Don’t underestimate…” I hissed, sweat sliding down the side of my face, “the power of-”

I woke up with a gasp, my heart still pounding with the excitement of facing my rival in battle. Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair, drenched with sweat. What was that? I wondered; it was rare that I got continuations of dreams, they were mostly different every time, with Makuma Non being only the latest in a long list of world conquerors and bad guys, but not only did this one pick up right where the last one left off, but it was retooled to feature S.K.U.L.L. as the main antagonists as well! And the girl from S.K.U.L.L. was their leader…

I frowned. Does this mean I really do want conflict? After all, what else could dreaming about holding hands with a girl in destined combat for the fate of the world mean? It wasn’t a very heroic thought, even if in the context of the dream it had been, because I was forced to fight or be destroyed.

The gears started turning in my head as I hummed aloud, lost in thought. I went back to what I had said in the dream, about doing things because I had to, about succeeding because I had no other choice… and I also thought about how my therapist and I had defined my problem as feeling a lack of purpose. A lack of purpose… and a need to do things…

And then I had it.

My eyes lit up, and I had to clamp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from shouting “eureka!” into the emptiness of the room. Of course! It’s so simple! I thought, hastily scrambling for something to take notes on. My hand settled on a pen and notepad, suggested by my therapist for the tactile sensation of writing, and I started scribbling away. Conflict itself isn’t bad! No, conflict is what pushes people to be better! Without conflict, there’s no real reason to do anything because nobody needs to! My problem isn’t a lack of purpose, it’s a lack of conflict to give me a purpose…

I signed my scrawlings at the top with a title: A Treatise of Human Conflict. As I stared proudly at my work, I thought back to my dream just now, the girl from S.K.U.L.L. and I locked in combat, and smiled.

…And I think I know exactly who can cause that conflict.

NEXT: The Girl Named…

Notes

1. Taiyaki (鯛焼き) is a Japanese fish-shaped cake often filled with red bean paste or custard.