« But you know that I don’t want to. She’s my sister, fine, but I could do without seeing her, let alone that bastard she married! »

A middle-aged, stern-faced Japanese man unloads the contents of a sedan's trunk. His gestures are gentle. The suitcases come out little by little. They pile up on a luggage cart. Close by, a girl and a boy play around a metal basket.

« We should at the very least let them meet our children. We’ll be living here by the end of the year. We won’t have the chance to do it later. »

« Narita Airport » appears on a signboard. The Japanese man locks the doors loudly. He is about to light a cigarette but hesitates. He ends up putting it in a pocket of his jacket.

« Thank you for coming to give us a hand, Sosuke-Kun! »

« Don’t mention it, doctor! With your children along, I can only imagine how complicated this could have become. It's such an honor to count you on our team! »

« I’m very moved. »

The doctor, a blond man with a youthful face, glares at his wife. She immediately rolls her eyes, annoyed.

« All right, all right, fine! We'll go see her! But I swear, if she makes just one comment, I’ll strangle her. » He smiles and kisses her forehead. A loud noise caused by his children startles him. They’ve managed to flip over the metal basket, which now lies on the ground like a dead animal:

« Mahana! Ashton! Leave that alone and calm down, damn it! »

Sosuke pushes the cart, now buried under a mountain of luggage. He's holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. The two kids leave their mischief behind and chase after him. Their father has no choice but to set the basket upright by himself.

« I booked the tickets for you, doctor Miriana. The receipt doesn’t specify the aircraft type. Wait for me in the lobby, I'll ask a friend if he can help me checking in. »

« Once again, thank you! »

The Japanese man blushes and gives an embarrassed grin.

« Think nothing of it, doctor, please. »

He picks up the pace, bursting into the terminal with his cargo. The little family settles on one of the benches located a few meters from the door. The place is rather calm. The sun is beginning to set outside the windows, painting the ground with a soft orange glow. It's pretty relaxing. A loud announcement falls from the speakers, breaking the peace as if to remind everyone of what’s real.

Mahana can’t sit still any longer. She gets up, drawn by the smell wafting out of a shop. Her mother doesn’t immediately notices she’s gone. When the realization hits a moment later, she leaps to her daughter’s side:

« Where do you think you’re going? »

« I just wanted to see if... »

« No, you don’t! Sit back down! It's a very big place here. You could get lost! »

The little girl stares at her mom with wet eyes, then smiles:

« Okay! » she replies sweetly.

« Ashton, this goes for you, too! » she snaps at the boy, who was getting ready to take advantage of the diversion and flee. She lets out a long sigh, sitting down, then adds:

« Do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, living in Japan with our children, that’s not the same as moving to the country. »

« It’ll be great for them! They’ll discover a whole new world! I prefer that to the future we had back in our old life. It’s a stroke of luck to be appointed as department director in Todai, everything is about to change for us! »

Mahana watches her mother with boredom. Her face is buried in her hands. She drowses. The little girl is a wisp of a thing. Her big head is covered with a wild tuft of red hair. Her expressive face always displays a wonderful smile when she knows she’s being observed. Her pink cheeks highlight it even more. She wears a black coat over a red dress with a strangely narrow cut. She seems to care about it a lot, because she’s constantly wiping the fabric with her handkerchief.

Some policemen pass by, looking around in contempt. A drone shaped like a basketball flies by, taking a picture of everyone it meets. It takes a detour to shoot flashes at the entire family before moving away.

« Don’t you think that's going to be oppressive? »

« The Jishin is a little much, but it's better than living in Europe. I know there are worse places than the one we live in, but still! Do you want Mahana and Ashton to grow up in the shadow of the bourgeois wall? »

She does not answer. The idea has indeed crossed her mind. On second thought, she’ll take the Jishin. Since the world economic collapse, starvation has become common again in Europe. The richest sectors barricade themselves behind an immense wall, which has been nicknamed the « bourgeois wall » for quite a long time now. These places are spared from the horrors the poor must endure. Criminality reaches a new high each year. The humblest tomato is worth its weight in silver on the street. A scientist certainly does not have the means to escape that ghetto alone, unless sponsored by a powerful institution.

The University of Tokyo, or « Tokyo Daigaku », was so impressed by the revolutionary work of the young researcher that they offered him the much sought-after key to a life free of any trouble. Japan is one of the few countries in the world to have recovered from the collapse. The Japanese government loudly proclaims that it’s thanks to the implementation of a new policy, the « Kinkyu Sochi » or « emergency measure ». A punitive rationing program, which led to the creation of the « Jishin » system. In layman’s terms, it’s a totalitarian doctrine built on the mass surveillance of the entire population, its consumer habits and its social habits.

The revival of the Japanese economy has more or less backed that system, proving the effectiveness of the plan designed by the government, and thus its legitimacy. Today, virtually everything is illegal in Japan without prior authorization. Every single human activity is under control.

Energy rationing limits the use of heating and air conditioning. Appliances have been equipped with special chips, ensuring that the power is off at the scheduled time. Simply using a computer outside the workplace means paying a tax. All Japanese people must disclose their traveling details on a monthly basis. A drone double-checks; the smallest undeclared trip leads to a fine.

It’s not really a dream place to raise a child, but Japanese totalitarianism is better than starving in Europe. The best for a kid is to eat their fill. The mother anxiously watches the drones. Ashton goes to Mahana, a cereal bar in his hand. He sits next to her and starts to chew.

« What do you want? » The girl says. Her tone is frankly hostile. The boy just keeps going. He masticates loudly without saying a word. She raises her head, pretending to think with her finger pressed to her mouth:

« Don’t you want to go and do that... over there? »

Mahana points at the sign: « Loading area. Authorized personnel only ». As he refuses to move, she gives him a shove. Ashton comes even closer. He thinks it’s funny.

« Go away! » She shrieks. An old man removes his hearing aid to check it’s working.

« Ashton, that's enough, go back on your side of the bench! Or else... » His father scolds him with a firm voice. The kid runs off like a rabbit.

« Hoy! Doctor! »

Said doctor jumps up but motions his wife to wait for him. Sosuke arrives at a run. They chat for a while, then come back. The Japanese man seems embarrassed:

« Is all the luggage checked in? » She asks anxiously.

« Yes, but your plane is getting ready for lift-off, it's too late. Thanks to my friend, I arranged for you to get on the next flight. Boarding is in a few hours. »

She meets her husband’s gaze and says angrily:

« See, I was right! You’re supposed to get there five hours early! You are unbearable. Always so careless with everything! »

She looks away and sulks like a child. He smiles at her:

« Sorry, it's my fault. My meeting just went on forever! Sosuke-Kun, you should go! It’s getting late and you don’t want to miss curfew. »

« No, doctor, don’t worry! » He takes out a handful of documents from his bag:

« Your tickets, with the receipt to collect the luggage on arrival. Here, your travel authorization and here, your receipt for the international emergency transport tax. »

« What kind of plane is it? » He interrupts, worried.

« An A380, apparently. It should not be here. It’s extremely rare. »

« My God... I hate that plane! »

His wife looks at him with a satisfied smile. She beckons Mahana and Ashton over.