After a moment, Mao nodded her agreement and said, “Point taken.” Those few words were enough for her to catch onto Sousuke’s train of thought. Unhappily, and as if convincing herself, she nodded again. “Well, it is what it is... Though I can’t help but feel like we’re playing into their hands.”
“We can interpret this to mean that the enemy is desperate,” Sousuke pointed out. “There’s an old saying: ‘If you’re struggling, it means the enemy is struggling.’ Mao, don’t force her to let up now.”
“But...”
He could tell from her tone that there was more Mao wanted to say. In the old days, he probably would have just dismissed her as being stubborn, but no longer. He could imagine now how hard this was for her, how scared she must feel, how she was entrusting him with her heart, hoping he’d hear her out.
But just because he could intuit what she was feeling, that didn’t mean he knew the right thing to say.
“If you’re really that worried,” he offered, “I’ll have sex with you.”
“Uh?” Mao choked out.
“A night of fiery passion should relieve all your stress and get your mind back on track,” Sousuke explained. After going through these vaguely-remembered motions of sexual harassment, he watched Mao’s reaction carefully.
She was stunned. Her eyes and mouth were wide open as if she’d come upon some strange mythological beast. “What in the world?” she gasped.
“Oh... well...” Sousuke looked down awkwardly, like a student realizing an answer he’d confidently written on the blackboard was wrong. “I thought you’d hit me.”
“Huh?”
“I thought that if I said something like that, you’d hit me and throttle me and then you’d feel better,” he clarified.
“Ohh...” Finally grasping what he was trying to do, Mao smiled ruefully. “Sousuke, you can’t replace him.”
“I see that now. I’m sorry,” Sousuke said.
“You idiot.” With that, Mao gently wrapped her arms around him. The cool of her fingertips and the warmth of her chest... It was somehow a nostalgic sensation.
Some of the crew working on deck cast glances in their direction, but Mao ignored them. She whispered to Sousuke, “Do you remember... what I said on the way back from Sicily? After we caught Bruno.”
“Hmm?”
“The stuff about thinking up a plan for your life,” she reminded him.
“Ahh, I remember.”
“I pretended like I said it for your sake, but I thought about it afterwards... I didn’t really. I think you were just getting under my skin. Always putting yourself last, prioritizing your comrades or solving issues with your missions first... to me, it just looked like you were flaunting your skill,” Mao admitted. “Overloading on impossible responsibilities, at the end of the day, means you don’t need anyone’s help. You don’t rely on anyone else. I’m a pretty average person, so that’s the only way it made sense to me.”
Sousuke said nothing.
“But I think I finally understand,” she went on. “You’re just very kind. I think you were never meant to be a soldier.”
“Me?” Sousuke asked. “You think too highly of me...”
“I don’t,” Mao told him. “You just happened to end up with the skills to fight, but you’re really not someone who should have ever learned how to fire a gun or pilot a robot. You’re not like us, here because we want to be. That’s...” her voice was trembling a little. “Listen,” she said, changing the subject. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Right...”
“When this is over, quit. Forget about us good-for-nothings and make a life for yourself,” Mao told him bluntly. “Never pick up a gun again. Become the kind of man who can be kind to people and laugh from the bottom of his heart.” He heard her sniffle, and her arms tightened around him. “I think you can do it,” she told him earnestly.
“I can’t,” he insisted.
“That’s not true. Don’t go making Kaname sad.”
“Kaname...”
“If you can love someone, and that person thinks you’re okay, you’re okay,” Mao told him. “In most things, at least.”
Sousuke fell silent again. Maybe Mao is right, he thought. If only Kaname were here, all these lonely feelings would go away. She’d make me believe that I was okay. But where was that same salvation for Mao?
Pulling away from Sousuke, Mao smiled. “I’ll be okay,” she promised him. “I’m an extremely obnoxious woman.”
When the ammunition checks were completed, Sousuke helped sort out the mail sent to the crew. Various personal effects sent to cover addresses... Letters from family, food and drink they’d asked friends for, documentation from lawyers and tax accountants, and lots of packages from online shopping services. FedEx had delivered these in just two days, but they’d had to be transferred multiple times for security and logistics reasons, which meant some had taken about six months to arrive in the end.
While sorting these out, Sousuke thought back on his conversation with Mao. He was worried about how depressed she seemed to be. Can I really let her go to Afghanistan like this? he wondered. Even if the odds against them had increased, they were still facing cutting-edge LD-mounted machines. This fight would demand more of Mao than any other in the past. She was rushing into an operation with little margin for error, where a moment’s hesitation or uncertainty meant death... Yet, he didn’t feel any bloodlust rising from her, any sense that she wanted to tear out their windpipes with her teeth. Should I go along to Afghanistan after all? Leaving her now might be like letting her die...
But then, Chidori... This will be my last chance with her, Sousuke reminded himself. If I don’t get her back now, it’s all over. He felt that nebulously... No, with great certitude. He had to go to Merida Island himself, and as quickly as possible.
I wish I had two bodies, he thought regretfully. Two machines, too. If the enemy’s divide-and-conquer strategy was meant to distract and confuse him, it was proving very effective. Dammit... he cursed, then shook his head slightly. No more thinking. Keep working. You don’t have much time left...
“Sousuke,” said Michel Lemon, the former French intelligence agent he’d met in the Southeast Asian town Namsac. Lemon hadn’t been on the de Danaan for a while. Despite the injury done to his leg in Moscow, he’d been traveling all over the world, and he’d only just arrived via the Bernie Worrell.