Aya spent days online. Yukari had given good instructions on how to use a computer, but what she'd omitted to say was easy to learn anyway. It wasn't that complicated a machine to use after all.
Information on the outside world proved overwhelmingly abundant. It was, in fact, a mess. None of it was organized very well. Much of it was comparable to things in Gensokyo, and she found more information on things from the outside world that had been brought into Gensokyo, but there was still a great deal to learn. Figuring she'd never make any headway taking a broad approach, she narrowed her subject to the city itself. This proved a lot easier, even if it was still time consuming. Yukari was right about how people lived. It seemed there was an endless amount of things to do, but that people worked too many hours to possibly see them all. How these two facts reconciled was beyond the tengu.
One morning, she decided to skip breakfast and head right out to explore her surroundings. She got dressed in the clothes Yukari had laid out, ignoring the other choices for now. Putting her contacts in went better than she expected. Pocketing some of the money, she stepped to the door of her apartment, and into a hallway lined with identical looking doors - with the exception of one at the end of the hall, an exit sign above it. Walking through that door, she headed down the stairs. She could hear the cars more clearly. Reaching the door at the bottom of the stairs, she paused, taking a deep breath, and opened the door, stepping outside.
It was a gorgeous day. People walked by, very quickly, and the ever-present cars rolled slowly down the street in both directions. The sound and the energy itself was a tad jarring, but Aya believed she could get used to it. Following the directions Yukari gave her, Aya turned left.
Yukari had been right – these humans did live much differently than any other she'd met. They walked faster, their faces were closed, and their machines made all kinds of noise. But soon enough, the shop appeared.
The tengu noticed that no one on the street had given her a second glance, which was a good sign, but this would be her first interaction with a human from the outside world. Aya stepped through the sliding glass doors.
It was brighter on the inside than it was on the outside. Noticing the baskets by the door, she took one up and walked down the first aisle. She knew what sorts of things to expect on the shelves, but she found the choices confusing. She walked down one aisle, past food in foil bags, and up the next, canned food on the shelves. The tengu didn't see anything she wanted. Could she even eat these things? What if they gave her an allergic reaction, or even turned out to be toxic? She'd have to get something she knew was safe.
She reached the end of the canned goods aisle. A young man behind the counter – presumably the shopkeeper – was looking at her. Then the shopkeeper smiled, saying, “Good morning!” Aya smiled back, “Good morning,” she said quickly, and turned down the next aisle. To her relief, she saw fruit. She picked up some oranges and grapefruit. Further down the aisle, she found rice.
This should do it, she decided, and turned towards the counter. The shopkeeper waited behind his till. Aya gave him a small smile as she set her food on the counter. The tengu watched as he pushed buttons on his till, bagging her food, and occasionally stealing glances at her. What is it? she thought. Do I look so different after all?
At last, the shopkeeper finished bagging her food and gave her a price. It was a lot more than she expected it to cost, but she'd fortunately brought enough money. Giving Aya her change, the shopkeeper smiled politely, “Please come back soon.” Aya smiled in return, picked up the bag, and walked casually out of the shop, back onto the busy sidewalk.
Aya smiled to herself as she walked back to her apartment. Nobody knows who I am. I'm just another person walking home.
Ryu Ogawa looked with suspicion at the young girl seated across from him at his desk. Interns never literally walked in off the street. Actually, The Mercury had never had an intern. They'd been around for barely two years and were struggling on a staff of twenty. The larger papers were long established in the city, with a loyal subscriber base, and they all had the money to put boxes on practically every corner of town. Ryu had even been considering lately the idea that if things continued as they were for another year, they might have to fold.
But this girl seemed very enthused about working for them.
“So.” Ryu tapped the edge of his desk with his index finger. “Why our paper?”
Aya cleared her throat. Their offices were the closest to her apartment. Ryu looked older than he probably was. His hair was gray and receding a bit, and he had a paunch. He had a face that looked like he'd worked outside a lot at one point in his life.
“Well, I really like the name, for one,” Aya said. “And I feel it's a paper that really suits me. I'm willing to help out on any story, any time.”
Ryu nodded. “Alright. Have you done any journalism before?”
Aya recalled her coached responses. So far the interview was going as Yukari told her it would. “Yes, I ran a local newspaper in my hometown for a long time, but it became economically unfeasible.”
Ryu made a short laugh through his nose. “Yeah, tell me about it. So where are you from? What school did you go to?”
“I'm from Hanam, near Seoul.”
The editor raised his eyebrows. 'Syameimaru' didn't sound Korean to him. “Well. How long have you been in Japan?”
“A few years now. I've been traveling around.”
“You speak pretty good Japanese for just a few years.”
“I'm a fast learner.”
Ryu said nothing for a moment, and then nodded. “That's good. What university did you go to?”
“I skipped university.”
“Oh? Why's that?”
“I wanted to travel. I thought it was more important to see things I'd never seen before firsthand, rather than read about them in a classroom.”
Ryu considered Aya a moment. It was clear she was sharp, but a little off center. She seemed pretty enthusiastic about working for free though. And that was always a plus.
“Did you bring a sample of your writing?”
“No, in fact, but I can bring you some, if you like.”
Ryu looked at his monitor, and then back at Aya. “I have a better idea.” He stood up. “Come on.”
Aya rose, and followed the editor out of his office and into the main room, with its rows of desks mounted with their computers, telephones, papers, and odd little objects she didn't recognize the purpose of.
Ryu led her to a table at the back, and gestured to the computer there. “Here. Go over the police blotter, and type up three articles for me, no more than 300 words each. You have one hour. Fair enough?”
Aya froze. This she hadn't expect at all. And what was a police blotter? “Of course.”
“Alright then,” Ryu smiled, satisfied, and walked back to his desk. They could always use an extra hand for the grunt work, anyway. And you couldn't beat the salary.
Aya sat at the machine, and brought up the browser. She opened the bookmarks, but a column of page titles spilled over the screen, none of them saying “police blotter”.
She heard a man's throat clear behind her.
Turning around in her seat, she look up at a thin young man wearing a pair of thick black-framed glasses. He took a sip from a paper cup. “Having some trouble?”
Aya smiled. “Hello. I'm Aya Syameimaru. I'm hoping to be an intern here.”
“Ah?” the man replied. “Well, that's interesting. I'm Hideaki Yoshimoto. I'm a staff journalist here.” He glanced past her at the computer. “Doing the police blotter, eh?”
“How did you know?”
“It's Ryu's way. Trust me, we went to university together. And if you walk in here offering to work for free, he's just going to get you started. We could use all the help we could get.” Hideaki stepped to the desk, and took the mouse. “Here. This bookmark's for the police blotter. The username and password is on a text file on the desktop. Should get you right in.”
Aya smiled, grateful for the help. “Thanks very much.”
“Don't mention it.” Hideaki said, finishing the drink in his paper cup. “Good luck.” With a brief wave, he walked back to his desk, at the other side of the room.
Aya turned back to the screen. Three stories. Should be no problem.
“I have to be honest, I've never seen Ryu react to new material quite like that.” Hideaki smiled, taking a sip of beer. Aya was seated across from him, at a table in a local bar. His way of congratulating her on a good first day, as he put it.
Aya laughed a little at the remark. “I'm not sure if you mean that as a compliment or not.”
“Oh it's a compliment alright. He told me he'd quote, never read anything like it, end quote.”
The tengu tapped at the base of her untouched glass of wine. “That still doesn't sound necessarily positive.”
Hideaki gave a dismissive wave. “Really, he was pleased. Especially with the stolen bicycle story.”
“Really?” Aya brightened a bit. “I did put a lot of work into that one. But then, it practically wrote itself.”
“Definitely. There's plenty of bicycle theft, sure. But it's not every day police actually recover a stolen bike. Pretty noteworthy, I'd say. You made me care about the plight of the bicycle owner, and I felt happy for him when he got his bike back.”
“I don't think you're being entirely serious,” Aya chuckled. “But thank you.”
Hideaki nodded and turned towards the window. It was early evening. The streetlights were on, but she could still see the long shadows of dusk along the buildings. The flow of traffic and people was unchanged.
“So tell me, Aya. Why journalism?”
The tengu considered the question for a moment, or rather, how to filter Gensokyo out of what she wanted to say. “Well, where I'm from, the place has a very old history. For a long time no one recorded anything that happened. Fortunately, there were a few people who started taking down the oral history, but to me it always seemed … I don't know, perhaps a little sad? That there was so little written by the people who were around then. So I decided, well, I'm not going to let that happen again.”
“Ah, so you're recording history?”
“Makes me sound a little conceited, I think.”
“Oh, I didn't mean it like-”
“No, it's alright. It might be a little conceited of me to think that, but it's true.”
Hideaki nodded. “You know, I have to respect that. That's a good approach to journalism, I'd say. But let me ask you-”
“No, hang on. What about you? Why journalism?”
Hideaki took a sip of beer. “Easy. The perks. They're mostly from blackmail, of course, which I realize only lasts so long, but-”
Aya laughed. “You can't be serious.”
“I'm not. Eh, I don't know.” Hideaki shrugged. “Probably because I wasn't really good at much anything else. You know for a while I worked in a car garage? Applied for the job because I needed one, lied to them and said I was a mechanic.”
“No.”
“I did. I lasted a whole week just by going online, reading about engines and basic car trouble. For some reason didn't think to start by learning how to change oil. Anyway, the point is, I pretty much fell into this gig because of Ryu. He really pushed me, and I don't know – I don't have the heart to turn down a friend who offers me a job.”
Aya nodded, relaxed back in her chair, and turned towards the city streets again. Now it was night, but the streets were as bright as mid-day. But not like sunlight is bright, the tengu noticed. It was a sharper light, as if it were drawn onto the air with a stiff brush. And everywhere, there was a faint buzz in the air. Unlike the wind sound made by cars, this buzz had no fluctuation. It was a steady hiss, just below the background noise of the bar, which was itself pretty loud.
“Well, one thing's for sure,” Aya said. “This place is a lot different than my hometown.”
“It's like anything else.” Hideaki shrugged. “Adaptation. I grew up in the north. A little non-descript place with one traffic roundabout in the center of town. Moving here was a bit of a shock to me at first but I guess ...” He considered the words, as if trying to read them forming in the air between them. “I don't know. You just pretend you know what you're doing, until you just do.”
“Ah, but that got you in trouble at the car garage. You didn't last a week.”
“This is true.” Hideaki nodded, and finished his beer. Aya smiled and turned towards the window again, watching the traffic, the people walking by.
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