Mission: Arrowhead

It was Sunday and Takeshi had the day off. The sun hung low in the sky, and the dew sparkled like tiny jewels on the blades of grass. The air felt as clear as if freshly washed. Wisps of mist clung to the landscape, giving it a quiet, almost mystical touch. Takeshi rose from the sofa, ran a hand through his hair, and rubbed his eyes. First stop: bathroom. Then wardrobe. Then kitchen.

The scent of fresh coffee filled the room, pleasantly mild with a hint of chocolate. He sat at the table, cup in hand, opened his dossier, and reviewed it.

Repetition is essential. False identities slip under stress. The more you become the person you're supposed to be… the safer you are.

He had now been at school for almost two weeks, living under his new persona. Each day, he read that same dossier that now framed his life.

Archery. A membership card for the local club was tucked inside the documents. I should check it out. Better to keep everything airtight.

With that, he drowned the rest of the coffee in one go. He fetched the large, heavy case from his office. Inside was a sport bow, several arrows, and various maintenance tools.

The case reminds me of the ones we used to transport sniper rifles back then... Yeah... you could probably even fit a G82 in here. Not that it’ll be necessary anymore.

He left the case on the table in the living room and went upwards to change clothes. He had a little doubt about his attire.

Maybe a suit is not the best choice, but whatever.

He grabbed the membership card, the case and headed out. The shooting hall was a bit of a walk, but he chose to go on foot.

It was still early, and the narrow streets of the small town lay almost deserted. The cries of the crows echoed through the still air.

Doors, windows and shops were still closed, but you could see some life through the glass, while the morning sun reflected on it. At the end of the street, he could see someone going for a walk with a dog on the other side of the river.

He turned left onto a bridge spanning the Hida River. Halfway across, he paused.

The sight fascinated him, though it didn’t show on his face. Below, the river rushed past, flanked by tree-covered mountain slopes. The sun rose above the treetops, bathing the scene in a soft orange glow that danced on the water like little ghosts. Now and then, a fish leapt from the water, only to vanish again in an instant. A gentle breeze wrapped around him, cool and yet somehow warm.

It's... breathtaking. I've seen many places in this world, but this …this is something else.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, soaking it all in. Eventually, he pulled himself away and moved on.

A few minutes later, he reached the hall. There were no lights or sounds coming from inside.

Am I too early? Maybe I should knock.

Just as he knocked, a scratchy voice called from inside.

“Coming!”

A moment later, an older man opened the door. A rugged type, scowling, like a pirate straight out of a movie. Hairy arms, a bandana, a blue-and-white striped tank top, and a chiseled face. There was no doubt.

“What?” the man barked.

“I’m here to train.”

“Uh-huh, and I’m a night owl, huh?”

“You look more like the owner of this range.”

The man shifted his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, a frown forming.

“A smartass, huh? Didn’t bother to check the time today, did ya?”

“So, are you open or not?”

Before the man could answer, a voice shouted from behind him. He flinched, and his expression collapsing like a scolded cat’s.

“Dad! Don’t scare off the customers!”

“U-uh… n-no, sweetheart, h-he must’ve just gotten lost.”

A young woman stepped out from behind him, probably in her early twenties. She wore a green bandana, an apron, and a dark blue yukata underneath.

“Come on! Go back to the workshop. I’ll take care of it.”

“Sure thing!”

He shot Takeshi one last glare before disappearing into the back.

That change of heart happened fast…

“Good morning! What can we do for you?”

The phrase came out of her like she said it a dozen times a day. But when she saw Takeshi, her shoulders tensed. Her eyes inspecting him from top to bottom. She suddenly seemed nervous, fiddling with her hands and blushing faintly.

“U-um… are you here to train?” she asked, sneaking a glance his way.

“That’s right. Looks like I’m a bit early. “

“T-That’s totally fine. We were about to open in twenty minutes anyway… S-So… uh… come on in. And please forgive my father. He might not look it, but he’s a good guy.”
She quickly turned around and walked stiffly behind the registration counter. Takeshi followed.

“I-I haven’t seen you here before… um… are you already a member?”

She avoids eye contact and hides behind the computer screen. Am I really that intimidating?

Takeshi quietly placed his membership card on the counter. The young woman picked it up with both hands and began typing something into the computer.

“Takeshi Katou… found you! Um… you’ll have range two, right up front. The changing room is down at the end.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

Takeshi slipped the card back into his inner jacket pocket.

“Um… I’m Ayumi Sakaragi… in case you were wondering…”

Takeshi gave a polite nod, even though he hadn’t asked for an introduction.

The hall felt frozen in time. Simple. An old-fashioned room with bare wooden floors that creaked with every step. Paper walls let in the morning sun, casting a soft orange glow.

At the far end of the lanes stood straw targets backed by a small earthen mound. The air carried faint traces of wood and incense. Somewhere outside, leaves rustled. But inside, it was silent. Tangibly silent.

At the range, he clicked open the case. Inside lay a brand-new bow.

Huh. Full carbon. Very light. Good balance, perfect grip. The arrows… carbon fiber as well. Light, but tough.

He slipped off his jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. His eyes lingered on the scars for a moment, just a second.

Just as he knocked the arrow, a rough voice shouted from behind.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” the old man barked again.

Urgh… what now?

Heavy footsteps stomped up behind him. Hands on hips.

“You’re seriously gonna shoot dressed like that, huh?

Ayumi’s father pointed at Takeshi’s clothes with a look of pure disapproval. Takeshi paused.

“That’s correct.”

The short reply only seemed to irritate him more.

“Hey! Don’t get cheeky, got it?! You should know that’s not possible!”

The wrinkles on his forehead deepened into trenches.

“Apologies, but I don’t have something to change.”

The owner glared piercingly at him, clearly dissatisfied.

“Tsk. Super fancy bow but no gym clothes. Next time bring’em with ya, you hear?! Or no entrance for ya!”

Before Takeshi could answer, he turned away, mumbling to himself.

“Shows up early, flirts with my daughter, and now this… shooting in a suit! Can you believe it…”

Takeshi ignored him. No need to escalate. He cast a glance back as the man vanished behind a curtain. He felt eyes on him. Ayumi stood a few meters away, offering a silent apology. Takeshi turned back to the target.

As the arrow touched the string, he felt the pressure on his fingers. A familiar sensation.

Strange… Nock, aim, release. That pause before; it’s like it never left.
So why not with a gun? No shaking here… but the second I lift a pistol…

A flash. Just an image. He remembered trying to aim a gun… the panic it caused, the nerves as if it were the first time. His muscles tensed as if about to snap. But here… everything felt normal.

The twang of the string. The whistle of the arrow. The thud against the straw target.

He hit just above the center.

For a first try… acceptable, I’d say. But… why? Why is this so easy? Why can’t I do it anymore with a gun? I trained for years… pushed through brutal exercises. And now… I can’t even aim without panicking.

His eyes locked on the grooves in his gloves.
Proof of the shot. Proof that everything leaves marks.

After about an hour, he packed up the bow. The floor creaked beneath his feet.
He slipped on his jacket, picked up the case, and returned to the counter.

“Oh?! Katou-san… uh… done already?”

“Mhm.”

He caught a subtle hint of disappointment on her face.

“I see… I’ll log you out.”

She began typing.

“You know, I apologize for my father. He’s… a bit rough. But he means well! Archery is his passion and he takes it very seriously.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve brought proper attire.”

She returned the membership card with a respectful bow.

He tucked it back into his jacket pocket and turned to leave. Just before he reached the door, Ayumi hurried after him, fiddling with her apron strings. Clearly embarrassed, she avoided eye contact.

“U-um! So… if it’s okay with you… p-please come again!”

Hm. Business must be slow. Every customer seems to count… Well, I’ll need to come back anyway.

“Sure.” he replied briefly, but not coldly.

A broad smile lit up Ayumi’s face, her cheeks turning rosy.

“See you next time!”

Takeshi turned and left the facility. The sun had risen, but the morning chill still clung to the air.

He glanced at his left hand one more time.

The grooves may be gone, but I can still feel the string. The control. The calm. I like it.

Maybe I really will come back. The HR guys nailed the persona. Maybe this could become a hobby. We’ll see. Other things matter more right now.

As for me… this can wait.