SURGE

Prologue - Born of Flight

That day, we changed the world.

“It passed! They passed the ordinance!”

“Yes, yes!”

Imagine the yelling, the laughing, the euphoric screams of jubilation and elated ‘Oh my God’s. Imagine us jumping, leaping, punching the air, then hugging, pressing our restless bodies against everybody, everybody in the room, not caring whether we were embracing friends or foes, for at that moment, there was no such distinction. We were all victors that day.

There were some among us who had known, right from the very beginning, that we had wings, but for a long while had not been allowed to fly. Beside me stood those who first pressed their palms against the brick wall above, turning their eyes to the sun’s rays streaming through the cracks. They were the ones who had begun knocking, knocking at the wall, calling for the rest to knock with them. They had been few but they had been willful, and they had been the first to say, “We, too, are born of flight.”

Thank God that I had listened, and believed.

“They all seem pretty satisfied with the results, don’t they?” Yume said quietly to me as we huddled in a corner of the packed room, where people were still celebrating our breakthrough. “No one has noticed that things are still a long way from being fair to us.”

“Don’t complain,” I told her giddily. “ ‘Improbable’ is already a big step from ‘impossible’.”

“I just wonder,” she said darkly, “if anything will really be any different.”

I was baffled. “Of course they’ll be different. Yume, you helped fight for this; you know what this means. All of us,” I spread my arms and gestured round the room, “are just one exam away from being able to play in males’ soccer leagues! If that’s not change, I don’t know what is.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Inappropriately subdued for the occasion, my friend of seven years made a break for the doorway, her lithe body bending and straightening as the limited space between the many female soccer players here to witness our historic moment allowed. I followed, joining her in the deserted corridors of Toho High.

“All right,” I said resignedly. “Who’s plotting against us this time?”

My words brought on a short burst of chortling on her part and she gave me an incredulous look. “Nothing that dramatic, sorry. I only wanted to find out if you know that the exam itself isn’t the thing we need to worry about—although that’s probably going to be hard enough; who knows what kind of insane test they’ll dream up for us?”

“You mean there’s something more stopping us from joining male leagues? But that’s what the new law’s about. We only have to pass that one test.”

Yume shook her head. “That’s just the official position. The thing is, unfortunately, once we manage to insert ourselves into those leagues, we actually have to play in them.”

I looked at her like she was crazy. “But that’s what we want.” And that was she wanted. There was absolutely no reason why she could have gotten so involved in the international Co-ed Soccer movement if she had secretly opposed the whole concept from the start.

“I know. But that might not be what everyone else wants. Haruka, think about it. Not everybody is going to be thrilled about this new law, especially people from the male leagues we’re so eager to join. We’re the invaders, see, coming to replace them.”

“We replace people when we try out for female teams, too.”

“True. But when we get into one of those, we know for sure that our abilities have been, and will continue to be, acknowledged.”

“And…I’m guessing that’s not the case for joining a male team?”

“I wouldn’t think so.” With an almost impassive shrug, Yume began walking down the hallway. I fell into step beside her. “Human nature isn’t going to be altered by just one law, Haruka. Well, male nature, to be exact. Maybe we can train a lot and become such perfect players that they can’t find any way to keep us off their teams. But those guys who’re supposed to be our teammates don’t have to like it. Neither do their coaches. As long as we’re kept off the pitch and on the benches, we’re effectively absent. The law says we have a right to be there as long as we’re good enough, but what good will it do us if everyone else exploits the loopholes?”

Leaving the question hanging, she went on, wandering slowly along the line of empty classrooms on our right, sometimes glancing out the large windows to our left. Beyond the glass panes, twilight proceeded to dim the streets, the last traces of glowing orange illuminating rectangles on the walls and floor. The sun set as it always did, uncaring that in a single room we had left behind us, two dozen people were chattering excitedly about a major turning point in their soccer lives.

Would the world, like the sun, simply go on as it always had? I wondered, eyes absently tracing doorways we passed them, my old dwellings in this school. The answer was immediately clear: no. No, things would change. Perhaps girls couldn’t suddenly become common in men’s leagues. Like Yume pointed out, it was likely that female membership in male soccer teams would not be widely accepted, at first. Taking the male ego into account, among other obstacles. But then, there were those who would not be satisfied with playing a minor role, who would work and train until no one could ignore them anymore…

“You don’t care, do you, Yume?”

“What?”

“You don’t care that the boys might not like us playing their game. You’re going to find some way to beat them and make them wish they had you on their side.” I knew her. I knew Yume and the reasons why, in this instance of triumph, she could still remain skeptical. They were the same reasons why she had fought so fiercely to assert her presence in the soccer circle over the years.

It’s amazing, the extent people will go to sometimes, especially when they have a point to prove.

My friend responded by giving me her best grin, wickedly predatory and flashing lots of teeth. “What can I say? It’s the only way I’ll get them to let me play at all.”

Rolling my eyes fondly, I trailed behind her as she headed for a stairway. We would have gone down it, slipping out of the building, had the steady rhythm of our footsteps not been interrupted by a set of new ones. Standing at the top of the stairs, we waited for the newcomer to reach us. Finally he stopped in front of Yume and I, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I suppose you think you’ve won, Kamida.”

Yume smiled, the way a king smiles when he has secured his throne and knows that the gossiping of peasants will cause nothing but minor irritation to him. “Not really. I’ll only have won when people stop looking down their noses at me, like you’re doing now. But you have to admit, at least there’s the chance I’ll eventually get to rub it in your face that I can be just as good as you.”

The boy’s expression turned scornful, lips curling into a sneer. “You’re years away from playing at my level.”

She laughed in his face. “You’re like Wakashimazu. You both think you’re fated to be better than everyone else or something.” Having said that, she walked right by him and started down the stairs.

I didn’t immediately follow her, but took a moment to observe the glaring young man who obviously wasn’t taking Yume’s nonchalant manner very well. With no small degree of amusement, I watched as his outraged eyes followed her descent, trying to burn holes in her proudly upright back, her black ponytail swishing calmly and her hands resting lightly in her own pockets. I saw that he was angry, not being used to defiance, but also that he couldn’t summon up any real hatred.

It was one of the few upshots of Yume’s—for want of a better word—friendship with him. She could get away with a few things.

Smiling slightly, I hurried to catch up with her before I was left too far behind with only Hyuuga Kojiroh and his wrath for company. After I had slowed to walk abreast with her, as soon as we were out his hearing range, she let loose a small, exhilarated laugh of anticipation. “I probably shouldn’t have said half the things I did,” she chuckled unrepentantly. “He’s going to give me hell now.”

“Like you care.” I laughed as well, glad that being a realist hadn’t dampened her optimism at all. She was one of the few people who, having brought down the wall holding us down, had looked up and seen that it wouldn’t be clear sailing ahead. That not everyone would like us flying up there with them. That there would be drafts, clouds, storms and rain.

Yet, beyond hardship, she spoke of endless blue sky.

I looked at her, and knew that she would welcome every opposing wind she came across, because only then could she catch it in those magnificent wings of hers and use it to soar. Adversity would be valuable, for what else could keep her fighting? There are some people, after all, who must have darkness forced upon them before they will see light.

She was one such person, our tigress, Kamida Yume.

Author's Note: There has been confusion over this before. Yes, both Yume and Haruka are OC's here.