I take out a box of cigarette from my chest pocket, and walk toward Kusanagi.
“No smoking allowed in hangar.” While I say so, I shake the box. She takes one of the cigarettes sticking out of the box, and holds it in her mouth. I light it for her.
“Thanks.” She casts an upward glance at me only for a moment.
I get back to the place where Sasakura is standing. For some reason, I feel it is a place like a spectator’s seat.
“It’s me. That’s right. Yes ..., correct ...” Kusanagi starts speaking over the phone. I and Sasakura take a few steps away from her. Still, her voice is clearly audible. “Right, that’s what I’m saying ... Miraculously, though ... Well, the damage is not serious. Yes ..., however, that’s just because the enemies made the mistake this time. Why was the warning late? What? That cannot be the reason. No, I cannot be satisfied with the explanation. What are you talking about? Oh ... I see. I will be there to storm in and then yell at them. So, who is in charge of that? Okay ...”
While sensing the wind blowing through the runway, I light my cigarette. I look back toward the hangar and see Kusanagi is standing while facing us. She is looking as if she is putting her hand on her face to bite her finger. No, in fact, she is just holding her cigarette. Sasakura and I walk toward the office building at a quick pace as if we want to get away from the location full of Kusanagi’s loud voice as soon as possible. Maybe, that is in fact what we are actually trying to do.
The deep exhaust sound of a bulldozer is resonating. It seems to be starting the process of filling the holes on the runway.
In front of the office building, we see Yudagawa and Shinoda. At the time, they are coming back from the opposite hangar.
“Kannami, where did you go?” Yudagawa with gray hair asks.
“Umm, I was just going out ...”
“Ms. Kusanagi got mad at you, right?”
“Not really.” I answer, smiling.
The other one named Shinoda has just disappeared into the building first. He is so taciturn that I have never seen him talking.
We look around at the runway again, and then push the glass door to enter the lobby.
-6-
It seems that the blackout has been continuing for a while. The contents of the refrigerator are not cold enough, but we are drinking beer in the lounge. There are three of us; I, Sasakura, and Yudagawa. Shinoda drank the first glass of beer in one gulp and quickly got out of here. Tokino has not come back yet.
Kusanagi is entering the lobby. I expect her to go upstairs, but she enters the lounge unexpectedly.
“Mr. Yudagawa, can you stand by at my desk upstairs?” She asks. “Perhaps, we might be getting an emergency call.”
“Okay, ma’am.” Yudagawa replies. “Only if I can eat and drink there, though.”
“Sure, of course.” Kusanagi nods. “I will go out for a little bit. Probably, I will come back in four to five hours.” She looks at her wristwatch. “Around 21:00, I suppose.”
“Go ahead, of course.” Yudagawa smiles. “You should take a rest and relax sometimes.”
“A task.” Kusanagi slowly pronounces the word. She looks at me. “Kannami, come with me.”
“What?” I rise to my feet. “Oh, you mean upstairs?”
“No, we are going out together, I mean ...” She slightly leans her head and starts walking. “In three minutes, at the front gate.”
“Oh, yes ...” I nod.
She might want me to become a chauffeur to drive her because she wants to go somewhere ... But, Kusanagi can drive by herself. Anyway, I rush back to my room and change into my uniform. I get out of the billet, and pass through the courtyard to go around to the gate, where a black sports car is waiting for me. Kusanagi is in the driver’s seat. I see the particular car for the first time. Apparently, she owns the car personally. I wonder where she usually parks it. I have never been to the vicinity around the opposite side of the office building since I was assigned here.
Once I get in the passenger’s seat, the car starts moving. It gets on the road through the gate and accelerates toward the bank. The engine sound is rather light and lyrical. A high-pitched tone of the cam sounds like the echo of a tuning fork. I wonder if it is a six-cylinder engine. Kusanagi is wearing the same clothes as earlier, with the sunglasses on.
“What task?” I ask.
“Well ..., you’re my bodyguard.”
“To where?”
“About 150 kilometers north from here.”
“The observatory? Or, the base next to it?” I inquire.
But, she does not answer, while seeing forward. The car gets on the bank and is gearing up. It is still increasing the speed. The iron bridge is approaching at an unbelievably high speed.
“I might not be a suitable person for your bodyguard.” I try to say so as if in murmuring.
Among the four pilots, I am the smallest of the frame. Probably, I am the lightest one. Maybe, I am as light as Kusanagi. Being a lightweight is an advantage as a pilot, but I think such a person is not so reliable on the ground. Honestly, I am not good at brawling. If I have what I can be at least a bit proud of, it is my escape velocity. In any situation, nothing can be more reliable than this factor. As for a fighter aircraft, I can engage in a dogfight while feeling safe, if its escape maneuver is sure-fire and secured.
We pass through the iron bridge in an instant. Entering the broader road, we are increasing the speed even more. We are going so fast that we might just be able to take off from the ground if we pull the stick to control the elevators.
Something is approaching us in the sky ahead of us. It is an airplane.
“Oh, that’s Tokino.” I first recognize it. Thanks to my good eyesight, I am quicker at identifying it.
“I knew he has loitered on his way.” Kusanagi also looks at it as she is positioning her head lower to get the better view angle. “You know the diner down the road, don’t you?”
“Yes. The drive-in, right?”
“Right ... The area has a straight road and little traffic.”
Is she saying that he landed on that area?
Tokino’s aircraft is passing by above us, while shaking its wings. He seems to be recognizing that this car is Kusanagi’s.
“But it is dangerous if a car rushes out of nowhere.”
“Of course, it is prohibited by the regulations.”
“He might be in an emergency situation.”
“Yes ... In order to drink coffee.”
Okay, I will try if I have a chance. I secretly think. But it would be miserable if I break the landing gear. Typical roads have quite a lot of uneven surfaces, more than I would expect. Also, there are jamming elements like manholes. The landing gears for Sanka are fragile, and the stroke of the suspension mechanism is shallow. Its small tires are not suitable for off-road taxiing.
I study the profile of Kusanagi, who is holding the steering wheel. She keeps looking straight ahead with a straight facial expression. If anything, she seems to be smiling. Anyway, I am relieved to know that Tokino is back safely. It is still before 16:00. It would take about two hours of one-way driving to the destination. I sit back in the seat and stretch my legs. The low engine sound is roaring behind us.
I am wondering if I should talk to her about something. Still, I cannot come up with proper words to start the conversation with. Asking her about her past is against the manners. On the other hand, asking her about her present might be considered the invasion of her privacy. For our conversation, is there any suitable topic having to do with our work? I come up with this and that, but any of them has already been talked about.
What kind of person was Jinro Kurita, my predecessor? How is he now? Is he alive or dead? If he is already dead, what was the cause of his death? And then, does it not have anything to do with me? Such questions have popped up one after another in my mind. But, none of them is realized into a verbally presented question.
Besides ...
Why do I want to know such things?
Is it just because I want to kill time ...?
Probably, that is what it is. That is what I think.
Jobs and women. Friends and life. Aircrafts and engines. Everything I do in my life is to kill time.
Until I die, I have to somehow cope with it.
Those who cannot do that are going to give up and die.
Whether you are an adult or a child, that is probably the same.
That has got to be the same, I think.
Of course, it is my imagination, though ...
I was once asked why I get on a fighter aircraft.
At the time, I replied that I did so to kill time.