‘This is not about me.’
Sakura’s face fills the screen, her gaze unflinching. It’s the late news, and Hotaka is with his mother and Uncle Yori. He wonders what Sakura will think when she sees this in the morning. She’s sound asleep right now, having gone to bed as soon as she arrived at Hotaka’s house. She has good reason to feel pleased with herself, he decides as he watches.
‘I’m just a voice for all the people who need to be heard by the politicians and so-called decision-makers who are throwing away our money on crazy projects like this seawall, money that should be used to make those people’s lives liveable.’
Hotaka can hardly believe that the girl on the screen is the same one he left in the boat-shed that afternoon. That girl was on the point of collapse. This one is fired up and fierce.
‘I’m a voice for the little people, those living in squalor almost three years after being promised recovery. A voice for those struggling to rebuild their lives with nothing but hollow words. And yes, a voice for the young, for my generation – because we are the ones who will have to pay for the insane spendathon that’s going on in the name of recovery. Shame!’
‘About time somebody said it,’ Uncle Yori mutters. ‘She’s good.’
The camera cuts to the reporter, the seawall and graffiti visible in the distance.
‘That was Sakura Tsukino, the young girl whipping up a tsunami of trouble in the normally quiet Tōhoku town of Omori-wan. Social campaigner or teenage troublemaker? Voice for the voiceless or vicious vandal? One highly respected member of this community, Mayor Nakano, is in no doubt.’
The camera moves to Mayor Nakano. Several vehicles can be seen behind him, some owned by Capitol Constructions, others by the council. All have been sprayed with graffiti, and three are seriously damaged with dents and broken windows.
‘The graffiti is ugly and offensive,’ the mayor says. ‘It’ll also be expensive to remove. But the really unacceptable part is the wilful wrecking of public and commercial property.’
The camera zooms in on the most damaged vehicle.
‘This is not just a silly prank by some kids. It’s a crime. As mayor of this normally law-abiding town, I have no choice but to involve the police.’
Hotaka leaps up. ‘Liar!’
The reporter steps in front of the vehicle. ‘We sought further comment from Miss Tsukino, but our sources say she has since gone into hiding.’ The camera pulls back for a wide-angle view of the marina and bay as the reporter signs off. ‘Ichiro Kimura for Late Night News.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Hotaka hisses angrily, and flicks off the television after saving the interview. ‘They’ve twisted things. Sakura assured me she only did the seawall graffiti, nothing else. Neither she nor any of the others touched those vehicles. It’s a frame-up.’
His phone buzzes with a text message. He glances at it.
‘Osamu again?’ his mother asks.
Hotaka nods and reads the message aloud. ‘Creeps! They chopped Sakura to bits, edited out heaps.’
‘They sure did,’ Uncle Yori agrees. ‘She said a lot more, all of it good. They cut at least half out.’
Hotaka reads on. ‘Then they buried her in the late news. But that mayor was the worst. Total liar!’
‘Of course he is.’ Uncle Yori snickers. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time Nakano has smeared others with his own dirt. How do you think he got where he is? Bribes, blackmail, deals with the yakuza, lying and cheating – that creep is so bent he can’t even lie straight in bed.’
‘It’s so wrong.’
‘Sure, but what do you do about it?’
As Hotaka fumes for an answer, another text comes through from Osamu. He glances at his phone and smiles.
‘We take him on, Uncle. That’s what we do. We expose him.’
‘That’s what I like to hear,’ Uncle Yori says as he stands to go. ‘But we’ll need to be careful,’ he adds. ‘They play rough.’
Once Uncle Yori has driven off, Hotaka turns to his mother.
‘I worry so much for Sakura. The mayor and his lot want to kill her message at any cost.’
‘Don’t worry, Sakura is impressive. That news item might have been brief and kept until late, but more will have seen it than you realise. And it will definitely have made them sit up and think.’
‘I hope you’re right. She’s sure made me sit up and think.’
‘I can see that, Hotaka. Which is why you’d better go to bed now and stop thinking, before you collapse like Sakura.’
Hotaka does go to bed, but he can’t stop thinking. He pulls out his phone and calls Osamu.
‘When you said we take on the mayor, what did you mean?’
‘Stuff’s all over Facebook and Twitter. And three popular current-affairs blogs – TruNewz, Skoopskape and AzitiZ – all want to run Sakura’s full TV interview, which I videoed on my phone. I’ll also get it up on YouTube. That will get all the facts out there, rather than the chopped-back version those TV goons spewed up.’
‘Hey, you really have been busy.’
‘That’s just the beginning. Like I said, we have to own this. That TV interview shows what happens when we don’t. So for tomorrow I’ve lined up some kids to do on-site interviews with people at the harbourfront; they’ll be beamed on TruNewz and the other blogs. There’ll also be a door-knock. I’m sure most people are against the seawall, but we must ram home the message loud and clear. And part of that is keeping Sakura in the public eye as well.’
‘Yeah, but she wants this to be about the issue, not about her. She doesn’t want to be the star.’
‘She’s already the star. Without her, the anti-seawall song has no singer. We have to keep her up front in people’s minds. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.’
‘Okay, but be careful. She’s not as tough as you think. Push her too hard and you might lose her. Trust me, Osamu, I know what I’m talking about, too.’
‘That’s why we need you, Romeo. Therefore art thou! It’s your job to make sure we don’t lose her. Sweet dreams.’