Description: The difference between right or wrong can be difficult to discern aboard the tournament hosting Suiryuu. Previously convinced that something terrible was afoot, a visit with the direct of operations, Hiretsu, leaves Hotaru feeling less certain than before.
Repairs to the ship's hull were kind of an exercise in futility. Especially with a truck lodged in it. Therefore, the Suiryuu's Director of Ship's Operations had simply decided to account for the extra weight by discharging water in the ship's bilge bay on its port side. Due to the Suiryuu's enhanced capacity tanks, it could, with some effort, withstand the extra burden of a few tons. Obviously, the trailer has been uncoupled, and dropped into the water below.
Even now, at dawn, crew scurry about at his order, attaching rigging cable to the wheels of the damned thing and suspending it from the superstructure of the boat, which has been reinforced with thick beams to withstand the weight.
He'd recovered the Sky Tortoise and put it in one of the cargo bays of the ship. He can't do the same with a tractor trailer. So he's just going to make the ship structurally stable, and sail away with the truck still lodged in it.
After all. He's already drastically behind sailing schedule due to that gang's little playtime.
The director leans with a palpable hostility on his cane, glaring out over the rail at the drive wheels of the reinforced truck. Though his mind easily wanders to the events only some hours previous, the current scene before him is of primary importance. "Damned ruffians.." This is the second vehicle to crash into his boat in as many weeks. He's not happy about it at all.
The night wasn't an easy one for some of the boat's passangers, including one Hotaru Futaba. When the truck smashed into the side she thought someone had struck it with a torpedo with the way everything was knocked around. Waking up to find herself on the floor of her cabin, she had hurried out only to find the hired Security Chief aboard this boat battling Katana and two who seemed aligned with him. While the girl may be skeptical about the purpose of the Suiryuu, she wasn't about to leave Sakura to fight alone. Nor was she going to let Katana succeed in anything at all if she could help it.
The fight was won, but not without cost. Now that it is early morning, Hotaru stumbles out of her cabin, looking a little weary. A bruise or two on her forehead are a small matter compared to the injuries hidden by her white blouse and blue vest over her torso where Katana and Aislinn both struck with what seemed like an intent to liquify her innards. To an extent, it's a relief she doesn't have to be ready for a fight as a participant. 'Cause she sure ain't up to it.
Now that she shuffles out onto the deck, squinting as she's reminded how little sleep she got the night before, the scene of this repair work is slowly absorbed as her eyes adjust to the early light. The crew at work are glanced over idly, though with not too much interest. That is, however, until her eyes stray across the one who seems to be directing affairs at the moment. She had had him discribed to her before by another who was interested in him, but this is the first time the girl has had the chance to lay eyes on Hiretsu. She can't pass up this chance to speak with him, even if it might not be the most opportune time.
Stepping up behind him as he studies the rig hanging out of the side of his poor boat, her voice may or may not be the first indication that he has company of the small and petite variety. "That was quite some mess last night, wasn't it. At least those crazy Mad Gears didn't get what they wanted..." A cautious step forward is taken, a hand planted against the rail as Hotaru peeks over as well. "How are you going to get that out?" That he intends to sail with it hanging there has certainly not crossed her mind. That would just be insane.
Oh, he's reviewed all the security footage of the event. It certainly was some spectacle,he had to admit. Names were taken, people were sent to the brig. A very healthy end all in all, he'd say. Of course, one was already released by Captain's order. The other was still in the brig awaiting her special conditions for release. An item Hiretsu had to pen later on today, in fact.
All that left was to deal with.. certain of their defense number.
Speaking of which, a voice rings lightly in his ear.
"Ah, Miss Futaba. A pleasure to see you still among us. Mindless jackals, all of them, I'm afraid," he comments mildly of the whole Mad Gear fiasco.
At first, the director doesn't move too much beyond that, taking a good deal of time to think about what to say. His expression.. softens, wrinkles in his face smoothing with the effort, as the catlike director explains.
"The nearest crane capable of lifting this truck out of the ship safely and without tearing the hull in half is three islands away, and would take some time and money to be flown here." As if it were only a minor inconvenience to do either. "Unfortunately, our schedule is very strict. We're already quite behind. Until our Engineering Mistress--" Hiretsu chuckles a bit, at that "--can avail herself to devise an alternative solution, our only option is.. to take the truck with us."
She didn't expect him to call her by name. Perhaps she thought her presence aboard the boat was of such little importance that no one besides those who already knew her would be able to identify her on sight like that. Thus it is that her attention is taken from the supported truck and shifts to the older man with the cane.
"Ah..." the girl replies. Her tone suggests that she's impressed. Perhaps she is easily awed. "That the Suiryuu can sale with that big truck sticking out of its side is really something," she muses. "Building this boat must have been quite the operation. I've never seen anything like it and I bet no one else could say differently, ne?"
Her brow furrows then as she takes one parting look over the railing before stepping back a few steps. "Engineering Mistress? Would that happen to be Riko? I haven't seen her about much at all..." Weren't they supposed to be running this shindig? "I hope everything is okay with her." That... is somewhat true. While Hotaru finds Riko to be fairly untrustworthy, and most definitely a pesky ninja to put most ninjas to shame, she can't say she would exactly wish her ill will either.
"Nothing to fret over," Hiretsu dismisses. "She will bear any weight she must to see her task complete," the director states, reverent of the arena ship. "She carries the best antiroll measures money can't buy." A small chuckle, perhaps at the expense of more than one or two listeners. Luckily enough, he'd seen fit to banish most of the reporters from that portion of the deck. Invoking a safety concern has great power on a ship.
"Miss Koganei," Hiretsu finally confirms, on a sudden shift of attention to the topic at hand, "is quite fine, I'm sure. Surely, the captain's trained her better than anything this ship could throw at her. That, or at the very least, put her through worse," he smirks. Does he know where she is? A complex question. But needless to say, Hiretsu simply doesn't care where she is right now.
At least, so long as where she is doesn't have much to do with getting the truck out of the ship's hull.
The word selection when it comes to discussing the small, Miss Koganei is interesting to the girl. What the ship could throw at her? "Ah, then she's still aboard," the girl replies, her tone one bearing a question even though voiced as a statement. She had run into her a few times over the course of the events but now it's been some time since she's seen any sign of her, which leaves room for doubt.
"The captain?" she asks. "Seishirou." she then states. There's another name belonging to someone she hasn't seen since this whole affair began. "He must be really busy. I haven't seen him interacting with any of the participants... Though I heard he was there for the opening ceremonies." The whole thing has been strange lately. Fighters getting notes about their matches instead of being spoken to by event organizers... It's almost as if the entire tournament was running itself at this point and the people aboard were just along for the ride.
"What do you think these guys were after, anyway?" the girl asks, a gesture made toward the side of the boat, obviously indicating the hard to miss truck hanging out of the side. "I've seen that masked nutcase in a number of places. He always seems to be looking for something whereever he goes. There was another fight further in, right? Something about a room there?"
"Do fools need a reason to start trouble?" Hiretsu asks hypothetically. "It's relatively simple," he reasons. "They would have needed an inside source to tell them where the ship was at port. A bribery, one way or another, perhaps. Many things on a ship like this worth taking," he minds, without any surprise or tension in his voice.
Hiretsu grins faintly, twisting his hands on the ball of his cane this way and that. "You'll have to forgive Master Ryouhara. Some consider him an eccentric. Though.. Miss Koganei is probably worse," he admits. Finally, he confirms. "They're around." Simple enough.
"As for the room..." Hiretsu mentions, "I'd heard nothing of it until I began to review the security footage." He shrugs, as if it were merely an expected. "But it would seem there's a .. training dojo hidden on the promenade. There are quite a few weapons there. Ohhh.. it's been some time since I've seen a real meteor hammer," he mentions, as an aside.
A fool definitely describes Katana in Hotaru's mind. No. He doesn't seem to need a reason to start trouble. He /is/ trouble incarnate, after all. "Hmn." is the reply his speculation about inside information provokes from the girl. "I guess it would be hard to say who, with so many people aboard."
The mention of security footage is noted. She figured that the boat had cameras all over the place, so it doesn't come as a surprise. Nice to know, nonetheless. A training dojo? With weapons? Hm. "Ah," Hotaru laughs lightly at the mention about an authentic meteor hammer. "Senior Instructor Marco juggles two of those as part of his morning warm up routines. That typically comes right before he starts punching a two ton wrecking ball around..." The girl shakes her head a little. While she hopes to keep getting stronger, herself, /that/ doesn't seem like a part of the training she'll ever be able to get to.
"You mentioned that we're on a tight schedule," the girl skips back to a previous topic as it pertains to not having the time to get the boat out of the hull. "What's the rush?" She shrugs a little, glancing out at the ocean. "Seems like out here, you have all the time in the world."
"Marco, hm?" The question of identity is an easy one to dodge; Hiretsu seems only faintly interested in the answer. It's passed by relatively quickly, as a result. "He must be rather strong!" the old man suggests openly. "I wouldn't suggest that you get into that kind of thing, though. There are better ways to move a wrecking ball than with your fists," he minds, tapping his temple in what will be a clear signal.
The mind is stronger than the fist, is it not?
"Mm," he acknowledges of the latter. "That should be true, shouldn't it? There are those in the world who may think they enjoy real freedom. Those who live in secret, or on the open sea..." His face draws in such a way so as to suggest he is inordinately troubled, a thought occuring to him deep within. ".. Sadly, today's worlds of government and economy mean that real freedom is less a right and more of a commodity. We all have our shackles, Miss Futaba. Some are merely less visible than others."
.. He chuckles.
"..Excuse me," he amends. "The rant of an old man is of little use to you. Actually, I understand you were of some help to our great fighting ship against those damned noxious invaders, weren't you?"
"Nn," Hotaru acknowledges. Marco /is/ a beast. But the older man's tap at the side of her head earns him a grin from the small statured fighter. Hotaru has managed to do well in her own fights not by brute force but by understanding her own opponent's styles andstaying one critical step ahead of them. Marco... needs not fight quite like that. "Yeah," she agrees with smile. "Just like I guess there's more than one way of dealing with a truck in your hull," she replies with a hint of amusement.
Then comes his thoughts on freedom and Hotaru falls quiet, her expressive, blue eyes focusing on him more intently now. The shift in demeanor tells her that he isn't merely tossing out light hearted chitchat. What he's saying is significant to him. But then he shifts away from those thoughts and turns the topic back to her. At the acknowledgement, Hotaru blushes just faintly. "Sakura is a good friend of mine. I saw she was having some trouble with some riffraff and couldn't leave her to fight on her own. Besides, Katana, that guy with the silly mask? Well, I've had dealings with him before. Anything he wants can't possibly be good."
But in spite their age difference and him having dismissed his rant as being merely the musings of an old man that she's far too young to follow, Hotaru is more interested in that topic instead. "What did you mean about freedom being a commodity?" The girl glances off to the side. The direction of Japan. The land of her birth even though much of her upbringing was in China. She can see the differences to an extent, but... Those were rather condemning words from the wisened old man. She lifts her hand to rub her temple with her finger idly. Maybe she is too young to follow what he's getting at.
"Riffraff indeed," the director murmurs. Tipping up his cap, the DO unbuttons the front of his jacket, to reach inside at about chest level. "At any rate, you and your colleagues did an admirable thing for our great tournament. Who knows what might have happened had they managed to get to the cache." He draws his hand free, glove tightened and shut. "The captain--as absent as he may be--authorizes me to give those brave few a gift from his own hand."
A pendant hangs from his hand when he opens it. A pretty thing of silver, there is an interesting pattern drawn on it, centering around the familiar Ryouhara sigil on the front.
"You see," Hiretsu explains in response to her latter questioning, "We all have our own individual freedoms. Choice, a freedom. Action, a freedom. Thought, a freedom. Unfortunately, expressing any of these also has consequence. Though this ship may enjoy that freedom at sea, we still have many passengers to pick up, others to let off, et cetera. In the end, the freedom of today's age is really simply an illusion. The captain hopes that this ship will prove that freedom is something not attained by strength of fist but in strength of mind. Freedom, something to be seized. And when it is.."
He gestures, offering the pendant.
".. Even those as lowly as we deserve it."
Eyes come to rest on the pendant as Hiretsu holds it out before her, the silver glinting just right to reflect the sun into her eyes for a moment, causing her to squint a bit. "I... it's... I mean..." the girl stammers, sounding surprised at the very nice acknowledgement of her aid given to the boat. But she falls quiet as he continues speaking. She will /not/ interrupt him, by any means. She had meant to try and get more information from him about the boat, but in so doing has come to kind of like the old man.
Her hand extends to accept the pendant with a quiet reverence before craddling it in her fingers, eyes lowering to glance at it. It feels kind of good to be recognized in such a way. Sort've makes up for the aching bruises hidden by her clothing. "Thank you," she whispers, lifting it up and over her head to hang around her neck, taking a moment to slip her pigtails through.
That doesn't mean she's lost her curiosity though. And it's with a somberness to her tone that she presses on with the next question. But now it isn't just because she feels like she should ask because she was told to but because she really sounds like she wants to know. There is a mixture of puzzlement but also a hint of faith in her next question, as if both doubting yet believing at the same time. "I don't understand... How can a tournament prove something like that? How can it show people the difference of strength in fist verses the mind?" She lifts her hand to tap at her own cranium, mimicking his gesture from a few moments before.
"Keep it with you," Hiretsu acknowledges simply. It seems a 'you're welcome' is not quite his style, for some odd reason, but the director seems genuine enough that it simply isn't needed. "As a good luck charm, it might help you, one day."
The pendant shines in the rising sun's light. The curious design upon it is almost martial in origin, and it seems.. warm, to an extent. As if it were really simply brand new, only a few hours old, in fact.
Though Hiretsu says nothing of /that/ particular fact.
"Jinchuu is a little more than a tournament," Hiretsu corrects mildly, a touch of humor betraying his voice. "But the proof of concept lay solely in the hands of every man and woman who believe in its particular truth. Aboard this ship, many do not believe in what is said," he acknowledges, turning away to look at the crew, still lashing cables only scant feet above the waterline. A step takes him to the very edge of the railing, his cane settling inches from the edge.
"Fortunately, that's the point. People will think not as they're told, but as they see for themselves. That proof isn't in such a pretty term as 'the fighting proleteriat's legendary recompense,'" Hiretsu recites, seeming all too similar to the captain himself when he repeated the same term at the initial gathering of the agents. "The proof is in the action that will follow."
Hiretsu shakes his head, once.
"To prove that freedom still exists, one must first restore wonder to the world. It is wonder that brought us here. And wonder, that keeps us here. And in doing so, we contribute equally. That is our only ideal as agents of Jinchuu."
He has her rapt attention now. Hotaru listens, eyes wide, her hand sub-consciously rising to lightly touch the pendant around her neck. She nods a little as he mentions people don't believe what's said. Everyone has theories. Everyone is paranoid. Those who aren't just haven't been paying enough attention. Even the girl at his side has been caught up in the conspiratorial speculation going on among many in the passanger list.
But right now she isn't sure what to make of it. If being skeptical of the obvious /is/ the entire point, then what could they possibly be hiding? After all, it's as if they WANT those wrapped up in this intrigue to question. To investigate. To evaluate. And to act?
"The fighting proleteriat... That's what Riko called it too," the girl muses out loud, a quiet smile accompanying the expression. Her hand lowers slowly from the silvery pendant. Wonder. An interesting word. It's kept her aboard. She boarded with suspicion but interest in the matches, nothing more. And now she's stayed - the individual fights doing less to hold her attention than the mysterious circumstances that surround the fights themselves. The conditions. The strange rooms. The challenging environments or circumstances. Watching the fighters cope with those as well as their opponents has been remarkable to observe. But it isn't all that's kept her here.
The next question posed is voiced boldly, as if she has finally dug deep enough into her own confidence to express a worry she's kept hidden from most. "The action to follow... " She lowers her eyes then, her hand lifting back up to grasp the pendant, allowing her to hold it out in front of her so that her focus can be on it. "Is anyone going to be hurt? There is a fair amount of... worry about such an outcome amongst some people here." she admits openly. That she likewise holds such a concern would likely be discernable.
"I wouldn't be too worried about that," Hiretsu assures. "Jinchuu means nothing if its agents are dead." His tone is brief, simple, and .. perhaps more practical than polite at that point. Hiretsu is clearly not someone who believes in idealism until death. At least, not for those called simple agents, anyway.
"No, the captain is not just yet a callous murderer. Though.. perhaps I should tell you.."
He doesn't quite turn from the railing just yet, but he gestures just so. "The idea of captain's perogative. An extension of the freedom just mentioned. To protect his ship and his crew... the captain and perhaps to a certian extent our security chief.." A moment is taken to cough politely into a fist. After all. What mundane really would imagine Sakura in such a station?
"At sea, both are authorized under law to use deadly force."
A simple statement, though it does imply much. "Will someone die aboard?" Hiretsu asks, "That is for the future to decide." He answers. "There is a certain someone or two aboard.. Unfortunately, that's an matter purely at the Captain's whim. A question of cost. As always. You needn't concern yourself. As is the nature of the great tournament, the truth reveals itself in due time."
He coughs, again. "In due time," he repeats. "Of course."
'Yet' a callous murderer. The qualification, tossed in so casually, isn't missed by the perceptive girl. Yet. As if that may be a benchmark in his future. The rest of his words provide a mixture of comfort and yet uncertainty at the same time. The assurance that wholescale harm is not meant toward the passangers... and she believes that too, is comforting. The reminder that, in no uncertain terms, everyone aboard the boat is at the mercy of the Captain who controls it is slightly disquieting, even though it should have been fairly obvious from the beginning.
"Y-yes," the girl replies somberly. She glances out toward the ocean, perhaps following his gaze. Away from Southshore, different rules apply here. Different authority reigns. Still, it doesn't make her wish she had gotten off during the last stop at port. She may not be a participant, but at this stage she feels just about as invested in seeing this enitre thing through to the end.
"In due time," she repeats back, more to herself than to anyone else. The problem is wanting to know the truth /now/. Not in due time! That's probably what keeps her here. Poking into things, asking questions. That there is an ultimate answer but she doesn't yet know it gnaws at her curious mind relentlessly.
The thought that he has, strangely, answered all her questions leaves her confused for a moment, because she doesn't feel like she knows a lot more than when she approached him. Grr. It's just like talking to Riko, except without that teethy grin! "Thanks," she states after a moment. He has entertained her for a long while, after all, and he didn't even seem grumpy about her persistant questioning.
Lowering the pendant again, she smiles at Hireku, then bows her head politely. "It was nice to meet you. I... I don't know what this truth is that awaits to be seen. But I can tell it is going to be a wonder indeed." The girl takes a step backward then. She's distracted him long enough, perhaps.
Well, never let it be said Hiretsu isn't at the very least forthcoming. Not exactly forward, but.. well. There is a reason he shares some of the same ways as Miss Koganei. But that.. like the rest... yes? It is a simple truth in the end. Though it is still limited by some boundaries, the law of the Suiryuu is one entirely different from the world ashore. Still law, but, by very nature..
Mm. Hiretsu still doesn't face Hotaru, but bows his head in return all the same. An unnatural perception, that. "Always a pleasure, Miss Futaba," he bids somewhat cryptically. Has he met her before? "I can only hope you are amongst the ones who will persevere long enough to see all that we've discussed.."
He raises a hand, as if waving to Hotaru.
"You there!" He calls to a man at the back wheel of the truck, pointing at him with that same raised hand without missing a beat. "Attach that cable to the main axle with the breakaway mounting! Hold it tight, but we want to be able to sever the cables at a glance for this round!"
His attention is already elsewhere..
Log created on 23:49:37 09/15/2007 by Hotaru, and last modified on 05:44:53 09/18/2007.