The Winds Of Change

“So, what’d you and the pervert talk about?”

The day for us to make our challenge had come, and Fuji and I were sat together at the top of a broadcast tower, waiting for our cue. She decided to fill the silence with a conversation starter that had all the grace and decorum you’d expect from a reversing bin lorry.

“I just wanted to make sure our goals were aligned. It took a little… uhh… ‘prodding,’ but I think we came to a good understanding.”

“…you threatened her, didncha?”

“With her own dagger.”

“I’ve never been so proud a’ ya.”

While we talked, she was fiddling with a tablet that seemed to be hooked up to the broadcast tower. I wanted to ask how exactly it worked, but when I had done so before she had always just said ‘electric magic, innit, don’t question it hon’ and refused to talk about it any further.

So instead I asked the other question on my mind.

“Hey, Fuji? How are you feeling about all this?”

“Hmm? Whatcha mean?”

“I mean… when you first joined up with us, you said that if we were gonna fight Z and W you wanted no part in it. Now we’re challenging them publicly. That not a dealbreaker for you?”

She stopped fiddling with the tablet and thought for a moment. To tell the truth, I always liked when she did that. As someone who tended to attack life at full speed and never hit the brakes, when she actually slowed down to think about something you could tell she was really trying to answer in earnest.

“When you first said you were looking for info on Z and W, I honestly thought you and Ryou were being completely daft. I mean, those three kicked my ass, and, no offence, of the two of us you were hardly the stronger one.”

“None taken. I’m not delusional.”

“Anyway, at the time all I knew was that those two and the green chick were too dangerous to be worth messing with, and that’s exactly what it sounded like you two wanted to do.”

“So… what changed?”

“...fuckers made it personal.” She placed the tablet down next to her and stood up, looking out over the city. “This ain’t a case of some petty corporate grudge or something. They tried to lead me to my death. They attacked someone I care about. And by the sounds of it, they orchestrated all the shit that put us into this mess in the damn first place. Don’t matter how dangerous the bastards are. I won’t be able to sleep until I know they’re six feet under.”

Wind swept her blonde hair as she stood over the sprawling city beneath her. For a moment, she almost looked like a real ass superhero. Imagine that? The Bailiff of Blindfire herself, actually looking virtuous and heroic.

“Gotta say, I’m a little shocked. Never expected the big and mighty Electric Princess to lose sleep over anything,” I teased.

“Yeah, it really ain’t like me, is it? Only ever happened once before.”

“Oh? When was that?”

“When you left.” Fuji’s casual delivery made my stomach drop. It must have shown on her face, because she rolled her eyes and smiled at me. “C’mon, it’s behind us now, right? We’re about to face down our deadliest enemy yet, can’t be held back by silly things like guilt, right?” She held her hand out in front of her. “We in this together?”

I was caught a little off guard. She really had changed from her old self.

“...yeah,” I said, taking her hand and returning her smile, “we’re in this together.”

We stood facing each other, her standing several inches shorter than me, her face less than a foot from mine, just barely illuminated by the dim red lights of the broadcast tower. How long had it been since I had looked her in the eyes from this close?

“...too long…” I muttered to myself

“What are you mumbling about, you fool?”

“Nothing important.”

Unconsciously, we seemed to draw closer to one another, until her nose and mine were less than an inch apart. I could feel her warm breath on my skin in the cold night. It drew me closer with each quiet exhale.

I closed my eyes.

“Ms Denka, the time has come. Are you prepared?”

Ryou’s voice through the earpiece snapped us both back to reality so hard I damn near fell off the broadcast tower. Fuji and I must have both leapt backwards, because there were two clangs as I landed a few steps back, and when I opened my eyes we were on opposite ends of the perch.

Damn cliche. It was just getting good.

“Y-yeah, Ryou, I’m here.” Fuji’s face was beet-red.

“Why on Earth do you sound so startled? You knew I would be contacting you, no?”

“You just… uhh… caught me at a bad time… ehe…” she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. It was kinda cute.

“Hmmmm?” Ryou’s voice was tinged with both suspicion and teasing. “Well, regardless, the time for your part has arrived. Please get to it.”

“Aye aye, capi-tan,” she replied, trying way too hard to seem casual. She bent down, grabbed the tablet off the floor, and flashed me a grin. “Ready for a light show, hon?”

The moment she tapped the tablet, every screen in the surrounding area began to change its feed. Everything from home TVs to the big jumbotron in Tokyo square was hijacked, starting with those closest and spreading out across all of Shibuya and its surrounding wards, as far as Chuo and Chiyoda.

All of them displayed the same image. A red circle surrounding a graffitied letter R.

“People of Tokyo.” A voice sounded out through every speaker system in the city. It was muffled and distorted by editing, but it was a voice I recognised instantly. It was, after all, my own. “For decades, you and I have suffered under the powers that be. The government surveils our every move. Corporations bleed us dry. PMCs use us as pawns and leverage in their urban wars. And we, the people, have been too weakened by their malice to strive for true reform. But times are changing. And change will begin with us.”

The feed changed to four cloaked figures standing shoulder to shoulder. Black, purple, blue and red. Their faces hidden, but their identities obvious.

“We are the Ronin. We are the winds of change. We do not forgive. We do not forget.” All four spoke at once.

“Our lives have been toyed with and tossed aside for many years, and finally have we uncovered the puppeteer moving our strings.” The second voice belonged to Ryou. As ever, her diction was clear and sharp. Our message would be understood. Of that much we were certain. “The ones holding the reins, the ones responsible for this dreadful status quo, are not the state, nor the corporations. They themselves are merely pieces on a board moved by a single player. This player is the organisation to which even megacorporations bend the knee. An organisation you’ve never heard of. An organisation called Kageno Kairai.”

“These are the bastards who dropped Kurogaisha Tower on top of people’s homes,” came the third voice, with mannerisms unmistakably from Fujiko. “They’re the ones pittin’ PMCs against each other on civilian turf, and turnin’ our homes into warzones. They’re the ones keepin’ us weak and fighting among ourselves so we can’t turn our guns on them. And they’re the ones throwin’ away human lives like five yen coins.”

“But worry not, dear peoples of Tokyo.” The final voice carried the sultry and deadly calm distinctive of Nabiki. “We, the Ronin, have begun our resistance. They hide in the shadows, yet their fear reverberates in their desperation.”

“To you all, we have one request.” The voices cycled round back to me. “Do not risk your lives in open conflict. This country cannot afford more fatherless sons, nor sonless fathers. But do not take their oppression lying down. Show your discontent on the streets. Hide your faces, but display your allegiance. Tell the powers that control you that you won’t accept their suffering any more. We can do the rest.”

“And to Z and W of Kageno Kairai, we bring you this message.” Ryou’s clear voice cut through the growing noise of the streets below. “Let’s bring our feud to an end. Midnight. Tomorrow. At the place where it all began. We will be waiting for you. Will you rise to the challenge?”

The four cloaked figures in the feed all put their left hands over their heart in unison.

“We are the Ronin. We are the winds of change. We do not forgive. We do not forget.”

And just as suddenly as it had began, the broadcast ended.