Espresso Love (A Dystopian Japan Novel) #Wattys2014

Intellectual Property

"Yes, the Intellectual Property Acquisition Terms and Contract; this is a matter we must discuss," he says and we begin to look around the room. The windows are closed, blinds drawn. Still, there's this deep, heavy weight that permeates through the air, sitting all around us, like the inflating cuff in a physician's office when he checks for blood pressure. It constricts and squeezes comfort out with much formality. I entertain the thought that the apartment might be bugged. When and how, there is no way of telling. But we find nothing. Just the hum of the fridge and the tick of the clock remains.

"What's it about?"

"It's something your mother signed for you seven years ago." I would have been fifteen then. "You are now of age and responsible to make the decision to confirm or terminate the legal binding. Of course you might be inclined to terminate rather than renew the terms right now, but I can further explain what benefits there will be and why your mother had been interested in this contract."

"I'd like to terminate the contract, but I will give you five minutes to change my mind."

He pauses."That's fine," he says and nothing more.

Shizuka is reading through the contract. Her lips are slightly curled downwards like a child on the verge of tears. Though she is normally well-composed, shrewd and focused, after the visit to the ferris wheel, she had been oddly prone to shifting expressions. It had never been regular; not even during her period, which is always precisely on the first week it seems. She has only had two during the time I've known her but I have the impression that it's never early or late, existing separately on a different plane, as stable as the intensity of her eyes. Even in the beginning of March, it is sure to be early by a few days, to make up for the twenty eight days in February. Or twenty nine; this year is a leap year. On her period, she doesn't seem to be much affected, only more fatigued than the usual. But it was only after our trip when she became particularly nervous and sensitive one day, and another, blank and emotionless.

Her eyes become crescent shaped. She mouths something that I couldn't quite catch. What? She must be disturbed with my thoughts. Why I had begun to think about her period, I am not sure, but in some peculiar way, it begins to make a distant connection in the back of my mind.

She's flipping through the sheets. It's nearly soundless. She isn't talking about her period: there are more pages, is what I come to understand. Where are they? She lifts the stack in her hands, looking through each page. No trace of them.

He must have known, as the voice in the receiver speaks up now. "Without this contract, Maeda-san, understand that essentially, they would've acquired a warrant a long time ago to send you to the Institution. This legality is the only obstacle left between decisive and swift action."

"Decisive and swift action."

"Yes, Maeda-san. I'm sure you have been told this."

"What is this Institution?"

"Some may call it the School or the Facility. But it isn't referring to your university, anywhere like that."

"Is this some sort of reference to 1984?"

"Hmm," he muses, "yes, that's a good way to put it. Re-education. It is nice speaking to a well-read man. You do study literature after all, don't you?"

"It is a landmark piece of literature, everyone has ought to have read it."

"Books are losing their value, sadly. Not many will pick up a book, in the present day, hardcopy or not. And those that do, and call themselves readers, may merely be following the trend and swarm to what might as well be exalted versions of primary school story books. If it is something that provokes thought, the masses are persuaded that they're boring, highbrow inessentials. It isn't common to see students of literature. Even students of literature will study it like a science, with no correlation to the world around. It's a disappearing art."