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“My mother’s visiting for today!” Sou announces proudly to the little kitchen at large, currently occupied by his weary, early rising colleagues.
“Wow. She’s been abroad, right?” asks Hina, sounding not at all interested in the answer. She’s currently sitting at the little table with Michiru Namida, swinging her legs and resting her head on her arms.
“Visiting orphanages,” Sou confirms. “They’re to be apart of the ASU-NARO brand.”
“How many stupid kids do we need running around?” Emiri Harai snaps. She’s leaning against the counter and sipping her coffee. Hina looks up to shoot her a dirty look. “Hey, watch it! I wasn’t talking about you.”
“I bet you were ,” Hina scoffs. “You’re not subtle. And you’re a bitch.”
“Language,” Michiru softly reprimands her, her mouth pursed into a disapproving line.
“Why, don’t tell me you’ve been forgetting the ASU-NARO methods, Emiri,” Sou says, pretending to sound grave. “You know that we take in those orphaned children when they’re old enough and teach them the skills they’ll need.” Then he claps his hands together. “Soooo! Please be on your nicest behavior for my mother. She’ll be so angry if it turns out the colleagues I helped hire are disrespectful!”
“I probably won’t even be seeing her,” Michiru observes. She sounds mournful about it, but then again, she always sounds that way. You could offer her the cutest puppy in the world and she would act as if it had died in her arms. “I’ll be down in my lab with the dolls all day.”
“Spoilsport,” tuts Sou. “Live a little, Michiru!”
“I’d rather not.” She brushes a strand of green hair out of her face and takes a large drink from her coffee cup.
Sou sighs sadly, but in reality he cannot bring himself to care. He doesn’t much care for the opinions of his colleagues, anyway. The only people he’s ever listened to are Gashu Satou (and that’s only sometimes) and his mother.
He leaves the kitchen and walks past the front area of desks, designed to disguise ASU-NARO as a medical machinery and research company, and out into the little reception area to wait for his mother. As it turns out, she is waiting for him.
“My little baby!” she calls out, standing up from the little waiting chairs. Last time Sou had seen his mother, she was taller than him, but this is no longer true. It’s quite noticeable when she runs to embrace him and he can rest his chin on her head.
“Hello, Mother,” he says, stepping back from the hug after a moment to look her up and down. It’s been so long, after all. She looks a little small, dressed in a large black overcoat with her green hair in a large braid over her shoulder. “Was the flight alright?”
“As well as it could’ve been,” she replies amicably. “My, you’re so tall! ASU-NARO has been feeding you plenty.”
“I’m mostly doll, anyhow,” Sou tells her jokingly, and she lets out a chortle. They both know it’s true.
She removes her overcoat and lets it hang over her arm, revealing her to be wearing a white-collared shirt and red tie much like her son. She seems to prefer the long black skirts to slacks, though. “Now, when do I get to meet your colleagues? Do you get along very well?”
Ms. Hiyori shakes hands with Emiri, Michiru (haha, Michiru, she ended up living a little anyhow), and Hina amiably, and she seems to take a shine to Hina in particular. Perhaps because she’s so young and has no one but ASU-NARO.
“Don’t forget whose mother you are,” Emiri jests when she sees Ms. Hiyori pinch an irritated Hina’s cheek.
“Nobody speak of this,” Hina grumbles.
“I’ll take a photo,” Michiru pipes up quietly, though it’s certainly enough to cause a stir within the group. Hina jumps out of the chair and runs out of the room before Michiru can even begin to find a camera, and Emiri and Ms. Hiyori burst out laughing.
Sou watches them, and he would be lying if he said he isn’t a little proud of her and how the others seem to like her. He has heard murmurs from some of the children in the assassin program that his mother is a “hardass,” but he’s never found reason to believe that. She just believes strongly in ASU-NARO’s mission and is one of the most important figures. Of course she’ll come off brusque to the children. But mostly she’s quite happy. And kind, considering.
“So, my sweet boy, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been doing to further the process of the Death Game?” Ms. Hiyori asks, smiling sweetly. They’re sitting at the little table in the kitchen, having politely asked the others to leave and start working so they can have a bit of time to chat.
Sou grins proudly. “Well, I’ve been building rapport with the participants in order to start recruitment.”
“I knew you’d be just right for the job,” his mother says. She takes a sip of her tea. “Any interesting ones? I haven’t had a chance to watch the simulations yet.”
“There is this one,” Sou says. Out of all of the one’s he’s met, the little green haired girl, the teacher, the policeman, the rockstar, and too many more to name, he can’t stop thinking about this one. “Shin Tsukimi.”
“Tell me about him.”
There’s so much and yet so little to tell. “He’s shy, and not at all confident,” Sou decides on saying, thinking of how easily flustered Shin gets whenever he’s complimented. “Not at all modest, he just has very low self esteem. It’s so fun to tease him, you know. When he’s afraid, he’s like a little baby deer! Ahahaha!”
“My, my,” Ms. Hiyori says, sounding pleased that her son has acquired such details. “He’ll make for a nice little show. Do you think he has good odds?”
“Not alone,” Sou replies. “But when I accompany him in the Death Game, the simulations show that his odds are much higher of winning.”
“ You accompany him?” His mother gives a little laugh. “Sou, sweetie, you know you can’t participate in the game. That’s not fair.”
If he’s honest, that statement shook him to his core. He didn’t expect her to deny him, and at first he feels like an idiot for not expecting it, but then a bit defensive. Why not enter the game with him? He’d make for an interesting show too, and it’s not like he’d die.
“On the contrary, I think it’s very fair,” he says, trying to sound more lighthearted and less self-justifying. “He’s got a zero percent chance of winning alone, and that doesn’t make for a very fun game.”
“The game isn’t meant to be fun,” his mother says, and her tone takes on a proper sort of note when she then states, “It’s meant to reward those who rise above to holiness and punish those who fall. And besides, it wouldn’t be fair to anyone else in the game who doesn’t get you to accompany them.”
This is where Sou and his mother’s views on the game differ. Ms. Hiyori sees the Death Game as something holy, godlike even. To be the winner, you must have been immortal to survive such trials and tribulations. To lose, to die, you’re but a mere human. Humans must be punished for their sins, and the Death Game is meant to test if you’re a sinner.
But Sou sees it as just that— a game. Games are meant to be fun. If it means you have to cheat or trick others to make your own fun, then so be it.
“Shin is too weak to do this on his own,” Sou tries to explain. “Other participants, their odds are so high they need someone else to weigh them down. Shin needs someone, needs me to bring his odds up.”
“Needs you ?” Ms. Hiyori parrots incredulously. “That’s not the job you were assigned to do. You’re a recruiter and then a Floor Master.”
“Don’t you find it nice of me, a holy one, to offer my help to a human?”
“You are not a holy one,” his mother hisses, all pleasantries absent from her voice. “You are a human, as the rest of us are, and you should consider it an honor to be given any sort of duty in ASU-NARO. Do not shirk from your role.”
“I’m hardly shirking,” Sou replies, feeling his gritted smile grow wider from the festering anger inside of him. “I’m merely fixing a mistake that wasn’t noticed before. And I’m hardly human. Think of the ship of Theseus: if most of me is a doll, am I still the human Sou Hiyori?”
Sou was never trained to be an assassin like many of the other ASU-NARO families. He was brought up to be a researcher, a scientist, and an eventual Floor Master. But his mother was trained. She was top of her class. And her small size makes her more agile.
In an instant, before he has a chance to even process the action, his mother has pushed aside the table, grabbed him by the collar, and pinned him against the wall, her hand firmly around his throat.
“Mother?!” he cries out, and he sees something flash in her eyes. Something murderous.
“Don’t you dare! ” Ms. Hiyori snarls. “Don’t you ever dare disrespect ASU-NARO that way!”
Sou lets out a nervous giggle, and for a moment thinks that it’s a shame it sounds maniacal. Like he finds this very funny. “You’re— you’re hurting me—”
“A little pain never bothered you, did it?” his mother asks, and her nails dig into his skin. “My, you’re skinny. It would be so easy,” she notes, “to twist your neck a little more and let you die.”
Sou feels his throat close up, though he doesn’t know if that’s from the chokehold or from fear. “D-don’t—!”
“Oh, are you scared, sweetie?” Ms. Hiyori’s tone is saccharinely sweet and concerned. “Don’t think I never noticed your fear of your own death. Isn’t that a shame? To want to participate in a Death Game, yet you’re afraid of your own death?”
“But I-I’m your baby,” he croaks out. “That’s what you said, you w-wouldn’t…”
“Maybe I would,” his mother states simply, coldly, “if my baby wasn’t loyal to ASU-NARO the way he should be.”
“Mother,” Sou coughs, knowing even as his hands come up to grab at hers, his strength is not even a fraction of hers, certainly not enough to get her hand off of him. He tries a last ditch effort, a sentimental ploy. “Mama, please— p-please—”
His mother smiles, and one might think it was kind if not for her hateful eyes. “You’re so cute like this, Sou. I wonder why I didn’t do this sooner?”
Sou tries to kick one of his legs at her, but it’s a weak kick, and even if it wasn’t she probably would have been able to withstand a hit from a dying man. She’s crushing his neck as if it were a soda can, and he’s trying desperately not to lose consciousness, clawing at her hand like an animal to get it off of him.
“Sou!” yells a voice from outside the kitchen. Emiri. She pokes her head in, her expression annoyed, and her eyes meet Sou’s frantic ones. Her expression falls instantly.
“Miss Harai,” Ms. Hiyori says, not taking her eyes off of her son. “Do you need something?”
“Uh,” Emiri sounds hesitant at first, her tone unsteady. “I need Sou to look over some… some participant sims.” Her tone grows more confident. “Just some coding stuff. He’s usually able to spot the errors.”
“Oh, alright,” Ms. Hiyori replies, and she sounds a little disappointed as she suddenly releases her grip on Sou. He falls to the ground, coughing and gasping.
She looks at him pitifully. “I shouldn’t have left you on your own for so long,” she says, suddenly sentimental and sad. “You’ve grown soft for this Tsukimi boy.”
“I haven’t,” Sou rasps. “I haven’t . He’s just… too weak on his own.”
“Is that so?” his mother says. “Well, you’re perfect for each other, aren’t you?” She turns to Emiri, who is standing very stiffly in the doorway. “He’s not to see this Shin Tsukimi any longer, you hear me? See to it.” She speaks about him like she’s talking about him to a teacher at school who let him be a little too unruly.
“Uh, yeah,” Emiri says dumbly. “He won’t. We can probably get someone else to do recruiting.”
“Lovely.” Ms. Hiyori is back to her charming, motherly self, nodding graciously to Emiri. “I’m going to speak with Mr. Satou. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see me.” She exits briskly, leaving Emiri and Sou alone.
“Get up,” Emiri demands, though she goes over to offer Sou a helping hand. He takes it and stands, then coughs, which makes her grimace. “Your mother’s quite a lady.”
“Isn’t she?” Sou says, attempting an easy tone. “I’ve always loved her so.”
Emiri wrinkles her nose. “You have issues.”
“Oh, none of you understand my affections for Mother,” Sou laments. “Nor for Shin.” Because while he’s protective of Shin, his mother protects him. He’s sure of that, that she only wants what’s best for him and doesn’t want the higher up ASU-NARO officials to hurt him. Even if she has to wring him out by the neck like a washcloth to protect him.
“She was right, though,” Emiri replies, crossing her arms. She lets Sou past her and they start walking down to the simulation labs together. “You’re not supposed to actually get close to the participants. You’re supposed to fake it.”
“He’s like a pitiful animal, Emiri,” Sou says. “It wouldn’t be fun to watch a baby deer caught in a trap and die, would it? Wouldn’t it be better to watch a baby deer accompanied by a bear, fighting for it until it died valiantly under the eyes of God?”
“You can watch whatever dead animals you want on those weird gore sights Hina found,” Emiri replies, disgusted. Sou only smiles a little too wide at her in reply.