Rebirth pt. 1

Asako fell through the air.

After being hit by the book, she had lost her footing. She was airborne, helpless, and heading right for me.

I spread my arms wide, meaning to catch the girl. Even if I quietly celebrated her downfall, I didn't want to see anyone get hurt. This was the perfect opportunity to save her from a dangerous landing. I'd sweep her up and get out of here, away from the mob.

Unfortunately, you might recall that I didn't have my glasses on. My eyesight isn't that bad without them—I get by alright—but I can struggle with distance and such. As such, I misjudged her quite simple trajectory, and she ended up plummeting just to the left of my waiting arms, crashing onto the floor.

There was an awkward murmur from the crowd, along with a few gasps. It looked… really painful. I took a step backwards, trying to disguise the fact that I had blatantly failed to catch her.

Asako was spread-eagled on the floor, her mask staring up to the roof. It was not clear if she was actually conscious.

Chatter dissolved into silence.

Slowly, the students returned to their table, trying to resume their studies. They were doing their best to go about business as usual, but they were clearly rattled, firing off guilty glances at the puffy grinning face just a few metres away from them.

Surely someone should get a teacher, right? Surely someone should make the call. But someone was not me, they all thought, and thus nothing was done. Asako remained comatose. They kept working.

"Psst. Watanabe!" I turned to see Etsu. "Me again! How's the paper bag going? Can you breathe okay?"

"Uh… yeah."

"That's great! I was wondering if you could help hand out these pamphlets. There are quite a few proles in the library. I can't do it all by myself."

"Oh… sure." I took half a stack of pamphlets. "Wait, shouldn't we do something about the president… I-I mean, she hasn't moved!"

"Nah, we just have to keep going with our own jobs! I made all these pamphlets myself, and it would be a waste if they didn't go to someone who needs them."

"But… she's really immobile. What if she injured herself?"

"Hmm… I think we just have to keep going." Etsu observed the defeated Asako. "Ouchie. But, see… This is what always happens. So help out, okay! You take this table here."

She left me to hand out the pamphlets. I tried my best to do so, but I was turned away time and again. The students barely took their eyes off their work—and when they did, it was to chastise me for being part of this thing. They just wanted to be left alone. I could empathise with them there…

"Why can't you freaks go away?" a particularly foul-mouthed girl snapped. She was a third-year like me, and she'd been in a few of my classes. "We have important exams coming up!"

"So do I, honestly…"

"Then go away, dolt! We've already called a teacher, you know! You're screwed!"

"Uhh, right."

"...By the way, your voice sounds familiar. You wouldn't be Watanabe, would you? Shinzo Watanabe?"

"Oh, nah, different guy."

"Ahh. Either way, fuck off."

"Yep, will do."

I moved away, sighing. No success there. I tried with a few other students, but they were just as uncooperative.

There was still a body on the floor.

And yet, all around the library, the Communist Club members were working, despite the situation. I watched as Etsu started a conversation with a student in between the library shelves, trying to convince them to take a precious pamphlet. I watched as the girl named Yachi swung her red flag around by another table, receiving unenthusiastic backlash. I think something flew through the air there, too, but it was not quite as destructive as the book that floored Asako.

No one wanted us here. Not a single person.

Things were not going well, I thought. Our leader had been incapacitated and no one wanted to talk to us. A teacher was apparently on the way after all. I knew it was time to leave, but as I went to do so, Hitomi stood in my path.

"Watanabe. Why do you have a paper bag on your head?"

"Uh, because Etsu said—"

"I see. It looks absurd. In any case, hand me some of those."

"What?"

"The things you're holding. I'll assist you. My primary work is done, after all." She observed one of the library shelves. Pinned to the wood (masking multiple books) was the huge poster she had been carrying around earlier.

"Wait, that's too reckless!" I complained. "You’re vandalising school property!"

Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Of course you would say that. Did you really think we could change the world without breaking a single school rule?"

"Listen, I’m starting to get fed up. I don't know much about communism, but kids like us can't do anything world-changing. That's just… dumb. Your boss just got knocked out, and we should really be getting her to the infirmary right now! She's hurt! Come on!" I appealed for some sense in this member of my class that had, as far as I could remember, always been quite logical. "Am I wrong?"

"Obviously. I have my job. She has hers. You have yours, too, which you are not doing. So I am helping you complete it."

"Why don't you help her? She could be concussed!"

Hitomi did not speak for a moment. "Watanabe, you underestimate our president.”

"I… what?"

"If a singular book was enough to put her down, we might be a little more concerned. I'll excuse your ignorance this once, because it is your first rally, so I can understand how you would not know." She pointed behind me. "Asako is… not a normal girl.”

I turned around. For a few seconds, nothing happened. But then…

The body on the floor moved mechanically, jolting upward in some type of automated, turbo-powered sit-up. The creature pulled at its face, first gingerly, then passionately, testing the elastic quality of those bronze cheeks. Snap. Thwap. She smoothed over her blonde hair, tugged at her frilly skirt, and rose to her feet, balancing on her heels.

She climbed back onto the table. 

The students gawked in horror, staring at the reanimated corpse. A few scampered away, covering their ears in preparation for another onslaught. 

They needn't have been worried, though. When Asako spoke, it was not via the infernal buzz of the megaphone, but instead a simple, straightforward statement, quiet and resounding.

"I am reborn."