A bleak symmetry [shiratorijun]

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Jun logs off her nexus connection and removes her wristband.

She places it on the cloth covered orange crate -- between the picture of her parents and the silver id bracelet.

So this is what betrayal feels like, she thought. Is this strange emptiness what Joe had to stomach when I went to the Nexus for help with his medical problem? Ken knew that Arisa shot me. Ken knew that Arisa shot a Swan. I don't know anything. I don't know anything about anything.

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There are 27 comments on this entry. (Reply.)

"Jun." His voice was quiet, sounding though the wristband when she didn't reply to his comment, repeating the words in his own tones. "Are you going to shut me out too?"

Quiet a moment. "It's not like you to discard it all before the full story."

Jun made an obscene gesture at her wristband.

"He'll come in sweet and he'll dance on my head."

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"Jun." His voice went harder. "Answer me."

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She swiped her tongue carefully over her teeth. The lingering taste of stomach acid and her last meal caused her stomach to turn over once more. She grimaced, holding back her gorge.

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The wristband went silent. Of course . . . that didn't mean it was over.

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It had been a while since she'd gone for a ride. Because she the wristband was who she was, even after Sosai Alphabet had been defeated and the peace maintained, Jun pocketed the wristband.

As she had a longing to wrestle something 700cc or greater between her thighs, she headed for her garage.

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Yes, he fought dirty. Though he should be out looking for Arisa, this was important too, and his blood was agitated -- too agitated not to follow through on it. His silence was not agreement not to speak, not a slide into acquiescence.

How it would manifest was another story entirely.

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Unpredictable as a rule.

Jun had pulled on some clothing. As she trotted down the stairs she noted the flash of rainbow hued pastilles on her chest. What am I wearing? she wondered. But she stepped into the kitchen of the J with her best face forward.

"Hey, boss" Jun heard from a familiar voice; Sunan, her other chef.

Jun barely felt the heat of the kitchen, her heart was pounding so hard. She smiled and took the time to ask him about the present shift. She barely heard him say that all was well before she took leave of him and made her way outside.

She put a hand over the racket in her chest. Her ribs were bars caging a wild, winged thing.

Excitement and she enjoyed a devoted relationship. She and rage played tug of war with her actions at times. She gave a lot; and she expected a lot. And the old saying was true, not just for her but every girl: a woman's life is full of a thousand silent disappointments. But this? This...this was something else all together.

He knew. He took her confession. He absolved her like he's her god. He knows what she did and he's alright with it.

She stopped in her tracks. Her head bowed, her fist touched against the wall to steady her.

"Eventually, Jun." Not right away.

She shook her head. Blinking back tears, she forced one foot in front of another.

Quit grasping at straws.

She carried the garage key on her person, but she could have broken the lock no-problem. She loped past the untouched kit bike Joe had made for her. The rampant white swan swirled on the blue body gleamed brilliant in the dark. She dusted that thing with regularity. Had wetsanded the metal parts of it herself. But the gel seat hadn't cradled her in months and she wasn't about to ride in her present state.

The third generation G3, she who looked strange but wonderful, that she also ignored. It was the antique Duc, too big for her -- the ride she'd used to give Mari her first lesson -- promised her rushes harder and faster than the most expert of kisses.

She ran for the thing and flipped forward, whipping her body around in mid-air, twisting around her own axis. When her fingers hooked the handle bars and she tucked, she landed hard.

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He stood in the garage, hand on the button that would permit exit out onto the street. How he got there exactly might be a mystery, but his expression indicated that he didn't intend to leave -- and if she tried, he would follow. A hunting expression, focused.

"Jun."

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She flicked him a look and pulled on the riding gloves tucked underneath the screen.

"Commander."

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"I won't let you go until you hear things out." His voice was flat. "If you choose to leave after that, that will be your business."

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"Why?"

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"Because even now, for whatever reason, it's eating you alive." His gaze never flickered from her face.

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In a rage, Jun tended to smile. It was her own way of saving face. It was her own way of shutting out this man who'd hurt her and made demands.

"You think?" She cracked her knuckles and turned on the ignition. "Think about this, you've got a dear friend who's missing. Tend to her then worry about me -- or have your way, commander." Her mask cracked for a moment but she was too angry to cry in front of him. At least she wanted her pride to serve her in that way. "Not that that wouldn't be anything new. You doing what you think is best when it comes to me -- whatever I may think." She took a deep breath and summoned a sassy expression. "I'll find a way to live until you've taken care of business."

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No smile answered, and he didn't blink. "I recommend turning it off before we both die from the fumes."

More quietly, "Have you had your say? If you haven't noticed, I'm still here . . . or are you so afraid that I'll hurt you that you're willing to try to bite me? Tell me. Tell me so I'll understand."

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Continued here

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She turned off the ignition. "I'm not ready to talk to you. I'm not even ready to hear what you have to say. But as you insist." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I honestly think it's something you need to hear as soon as possible. If I was certain that you'd listen later with an open mind, I'd say go." In other words . . . he *was* giving her an out, if she absolutely chose to take it.

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"Why?" Then louder, standing so that she was straddling the bike. She hurled the keys at his feet. "Why NOW?! Why now when you've had all this time to tell me of that -- that Galactor volunteer! That woman who shot me--" She thumped her chest hard. "A me! A Swan, not your Swan but A SWAN... And you give her shelter?! You give her - you give her --" She regretted throwing her keys. She dug in a pocket of her miniskirt -- when the heck had she put that on -- in hopes of finding another key. Her hair had fallen into her face as she looked. She said, "She saved Derek's life but you didn't even let me know what I was dealing with." The fourth pocket was empty. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "What can you possibly say to me that doesn't tell me that you betrayed me?" She held up her wristband and pointed at it. "That you betrayed us!"

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"For over fifteen years you've trusted me to lead you. I led you through battles; I fought and died with you. When I returned to you out of a series of parallel universes, you knelt and promised me absolute loyalty and called yourself my Swan. You were firm in this even when I reminded you that I might not be the same as you knew me before. If I betrayed you -- if I ever plotted to betray you, why did I refuse your pledge at first, telling you to wait until you knew I was worthy of it? Why did you promise loyalty anyway? Why have I honored your marriage and strove to keep myself to just one kiss because you asked me softly to do so? Why honor you, Jun, if I only mean to betray you?"

"In her time, I was lost. In each new place I had to find means for food and shelter. I was sick when she found me; she gave these things to me freely without asking who I was. She could have killed me at that time; she knew what the wristband meant -- in her world Gatchaman has been publicized, all secrets laid out. She knew who I was and she had motive; in her world, after she shot that world's Swan, that Eagle had tried to kill her. I knew her as a woman before I ever found out that she'd been a Galactor, and when she told me, she told me openly, sat me down and gave me all of it. She spared no details about her motives back then; she followed her orders as we followed ours, and yes, she believed the ideology, but if she'd continued to follow it, she would never have been in the position that she was to find me in the first place. Back then she believed in a different world. If you would listen to her talk about it now, you'll hear no pride in her voice for it. She wouldn't even give you her eyes."

"Why didn't I mention anything about it? All during the war, the five of us dreamed of a new life as she does now. Who am I to rob her of that? Given all of this, why was it going to matter who she was as compared to who she is now?"

"That Swan that she shot was *not* you, no more than the Eagle that nearly killed her wasn't me. If I ever thought that she would hurt you, any of the others, I would dispose of her. You know that I would. You trusted my judgement once; I hope you'll still give me the trust that you professed the day that I arrived."

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"Well," Jun linked her hands and turned the palms toward her. The skin of her face looked borrowed from a woman twenty years her senior. "You're a lot better with words than I am."

She scratched the back of her neck. "I would have...I would have figured that out." She shook her head with regret, from side to side. "It still feels like betrayal." She patted her chest, over her heart; then placed a hand on her gut. A dislodged pastille shimmered in the dark as it broke free of its thread and fluttered to the floor. "I'm sorry."

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He shook his head as he leaned down, scooped her keys up, tossed them lightly once in his palm before underhand-throwing them to her. His other hand fell away from the button that would allow her to leave. "I asked you to hear me out, which you did -- thank you. I can't tell you how to feel. Do what you need to do."

Though he did wish she'd talk to her.

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Jun caught the throw and slid her key into the ignition. "Ken...you didn't just ask me to hear you out. I have a hard time saying no to you. I always have. I...I should be used to it. Maybe if I stayed mad at you, hunh? Maybe then you wouldn't...?"

She sighs.

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He paused, looked back at her. "Wouldn't . . . ?"

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"Push. Please, let's talk later. I need to clear my head and maybe you should go find Ainur. I mean Arisa." Jun flushed. "She, uh, left the identity packets with me. I don't really have use for them and...will you take them for her?"

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A slight nod -- he wasn't trying to keep her. "Safe riding, Jun." He raised a hand backward behind him in a casual wave of departure, vanishing through the main door.

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She lifted her hand but he was already gone.

All gone.

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December