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"Unacceptable. Try again."
Ichijiku is met with a chorus of groans as the young women get to their feet. They look exhausted, their training uniforms already showing wear and tear from consecutive Hypnosis Mic attacks. None of them have passed out yet, which is a good thing, but none of them have succeeded in standing their ground, either. It's plain on their faces that these younger cadets are wearing thin, which means morale is slipping. What a pain.
With a sigh, Ichijiku decides to give them a few stern words, though with her voice a shade less harsh than usual. "The microphones used by members of the Party of Words are twice as powerful as a standard model," she says, standing next to the Party member who's been attacking the group of trainees. "The men of this world are violent, unpredictable, and will stop at nothing to get what they want. If one of them were to somehow steal a Party Microphone, it's imperative that you're able to withstand it. And besides..." A smirk forms on her face. "Imagine the look on his face when he realizes that even with our technology, he's still eternally inferior to us."
That gets a bit of a laugh, and the girls seem ready to go again. Ichijiku turns to their supervisor. "When one of them is able to withstand the attack, give them a break. Don't keep them late, either. Just make a list of who passes and who doesn't and have it on my desk in the morning."
The supervisor nods, then turns back to the trainees, pressing the button on the mic to activate it. Her work in the training grounds done, Ichijiku turns on her heel and leaves. That's the last thing Otome had wanted her to do today, meaning it's time to go home. She takes a few minutes to change out of her Party uniform and into her own clothes, then mounts her motorcycle and is off. They've been seeing an increase in recruits lately, from all over the country. Some girls no doubt are fans of the Division Battles, and want to learn how to rap or get involved with these spectator events. Others she knows want the money and benefits that come with a government job, and send it home to their families. Then there's another group, the ones who truly believe in the Party. Girls who come from battered homes, toxic workplaces. Mothers, daughters, sisters, wives...victims of men and their cruelty. Ichijiku feels connected to these women, and can see their drive and desire to make a real change in this world.
Whatever their reasons for joining the Party, Ichijiku welcomes them all. A storm is brewing on the horizon, she can feel it. Amayado being spotted leaving the Yamada Odd Jobs building, the defeat of the clones she dispatched to eliminate Ramuda, reports of fights in Shinjuku and Osaka involving members of different divisions...it's all a goddamn mess. All it takes is one of the eighteen to reach out, and it could spell doom. From here on out, they need to be extremely careful. Otherwise the Party may not hold control over Japan before their plans come into fruition.
As she parks in her driveway, Ichijiku sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair once the helmet comes off. It's not her style to worry, not anymore at least. She believes fully in their cause, and in Otome. If anyone starts acting up too much there's always a clone with a Microphone waiting to take care of them. Another red stain on her already crimson hands. But that's just how it is when you change the world, isn't it? Staying virtuous and upright will make you nothing more than a martyr. Something pretty for history books and art galleries and nothing more. You don't survive in this world by being good. She's already tried that.
Shit, she's given herself a headache. Massaging her temple with one hand, she keeps her helmet hooked under the other arm as she enters the house. "I'm home!" Ichijiku calls, removing her shoes and setting her things down. As she hangs her jacket in the closet, she pauses, taking her own microphone out of the pocket. Her eyes on the hallway before her, she waits.
…
…
"Welcome home!"
A mess of white hair peeks from the other end, bright pink eyes and a sweet smile putting Ichijiku's guard down. She sighs in relief, lowering the microphone and slipping it into her back pocket. "Evening, Nemu," she greets. "Did you enjoy your day off?"
"I did!" Nemu says, stepping out to greet the Party official. Out of her own uniform, Nemu dresses in a fashion expected of teenage girls, cute and colorful clothes you'd see in magazines. Looking at her, you'd never think her the head of a Party branch, but she performs her role exceptionally well. But that's because she becomes a completely different person when the uniform is on...something that was by design. "Dinner's almost ready, by the way. Pot roast!"
"I can already smell it from here," Ichijiku says with a smile. She hadn't realized how hungry she is until just now. "Do you need help setting the table?"
"No, I took care of that already."
"Of course you did. I'll do dishes tonight, though."
"You sure? I mean, you worked today…"
"It's fine. You should enjoy your evening off." That gets a smile from Nemu, who thanks Ichijiku before going back to the kitchen to check on the food. Ichijiku watches her go fondly, but the warmth is gone in an instant as her train of thought from before picks up, but worse.
Nemu...for two years now she's been living with Ichijiku, livening up a home that had been so painfully empty without Natsume. Nemu is bright, bubbly, sweet...every bit as summery as Ichijiku remembers her own little sister had been. And she's done excellent work as a member of the Party too, to the point where she could become invaluable. There's only one problem, though, and it's been haunting Ichijiku more and more frequently. When they'd taken Nemu in all those years ago, she thought it was a rescue mission. The poor thing lost her parents before she was ten, her abusive father killed by her mother, who then took her own life. Held hostage by Mozuku (who Ichijiku took great pleasure in watching fall to the True Mic, she'll admit), and living with her older brother Samatoki...Ikebukuro was no place for a girl like Nemu. Brainwashing may have been a bit much, but when Samatoki had reacted to this change after his battle with Ichiro, she had thought it a necessary evil. Samatoki had proven himself to be just like any other man. Just like his father.
But lately...she's been starting to wonder if that was correct. Most of Samatoki's arrests recently have been stopping criminal activity in his own city, one in particular stopping a trafficking scheme by those Tobari bastards. And the reports from when Nemu had been sent to Yokohama painted him as actually, truly caring for her. And his response to Ramuda's confession...maybe of the two of them, Samatoki isn't the one in the wrong, here. Even if he is a man…
There's a pit in her stomach, now, and not from hunger. Ichijiku takes a few deep breaths. You don't change the world by being good...but being bad brings a consequence worse than death. You have to live haunted by the things you've done, and the Aohitsugi family will no doubt haunt her until the day she dies. However things end, whether it be with her victory or her defeat...she knows full well there will be nights where she loses sleep over her actions. To have a conscience, is that weakness, or strength? She doesn't know. Maybe she never will. But she does know one thing.
"Dinner's ready!"
"Coming!"
Whatever the outcome is, she'll see it through with her head held high. No one knows of these inner turmoils but herself. And for her sake, for Otome's sake, for the sake of all they've worked and sacrificed for...Ichijiku is going to keep it that way.