Chapter 89 Year 3 – Shift 7 – Trash – Mora

“Did you know that kuzu in Japanese literally means trash?” Mora gripped onto Chaddy Daddy’s arm tight as they walked through the merciless industrial housing projects of Kaisha. Discarded Hand enforcers stood on every corner, glaring at them over much too expensive sunglasses while people lined up outside of ramshackle buildings to hopefully get some food today.

“They weren’t originally called the Kuzu.” Chaddy Daddy responded. “They were once called the Iwagatans. They had a very troubled history.”

“What do we know of their cultural ideas around LGBTQIA?” Mora asked.

“There’s still a lot of old world sentiment spread through the tribe because of their government’s frantic need to end their spiraling population problems.” He responded.

“So, they create social panic over a population crisis they caused?” Mora let go of his arm and stopped, turning to him in fury. “Increased workloads, decreased pay, more hours, less free-time, inflation…how is that not meant to keep a person single through monotony and lack of self? They take and take and take and when people finally say they don’t want to put a child through the same hell, they freak out and blame the queers?”

“You forgot stranding them in rural areas to increase their reliance on fossil fuels and isolate them from experiencing diversity of thought or opinion.” Chaddy Daddy added.

“How bad is it?” Mora sighed, her shoulders slumping to have to deal with this again.

“Pretty bad.” Chadwick nodded.

“This is the splinter faction, though.” Chadwick shrugged. “The ones who chose to keep using Kuzu as an empowering symbol. Many of them are inspired by the Shafted.”

“Then, they must know that the Shafted are queer champions and physical liberators, right?” Mora reasoned as she followed Chaddy Daddy down the street toward a section of the town of Kaisha that was nothing but tiny, almost identical grey cube homes that looked presentable on the outside, but they all had a rot to them. They were falling apart.

“That’s why we’re here.” Chadwick came to the door of a ramshackle community center behind the row of houses. “Sara thinks they’re worth giving a shot, so I do too.”

“Is this the place?” Mora’s heart broke for the state of their community.

“Yeah.” Chadwick put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her as she went ahead. “Mora. You need to remember that Tater Tot isn’t their king, so you don’t have the same weight.”

“Good.” Mora nodded. “Then we meet discarded trash to discarded trash. Do we have a demo?”

“Not yet. Our contact only said around eight hundred need homes.” He shrugged. “We’re flying blind.”

“Then we fly together.” Mora remembered one of the best storybooks Chaddy Daddy used to read her when she was a kid.”

Chadwick beamed at her. “Let’s go, kid.”

Mora smiled. Nodded. Took a deep breath and calmed her nerves. It was time to bring an entire new ecosystem into their world, and it all hinged on whether she could connect with people who would probably hate her without context. She pushed open the door to the tiny hall and, for a moment, was confused. The whole room was filled with women and girls of all ages. There wasn’t a man to be seen. All eyes turned, full of suspicion. As Chadwick took a step, mothers grabbed their children and pulled them close. They made their way to the front of the room where one woman stood with her arms folded over her chest and a test me look on her face.

She was something that instantly grabbed Mora’s attention. The aura that dripped from the woman was the type of infectious that Mora was dedicated to cultivating. She knew this woman before she knew her but she couldn’t place her. It didn’t scream fame. It didn’t scream power. It screamed respect. It screamed someone who bled for the people she stood up for. But it wasn’t that that gave her away, no. It was the fact that she commanded this entire room in normal civilian clothes. Not something flashy like her, something that blended in. This was a woman who felt like experienced protector and reeked of the wrong message. That of hiding.

“Hello,” Chadwick started. “We’ve come—”

She held her hand up in his face, cutting him off while staring Mora in the eyes. “We were not aware that a man would be coming.”

Mora held her breath for a long moment, her nerves frayed.

“Why did you bring him?” She demanded.

The breath eased out. “He is one of the doers of our city.”

“Doers?” She questioned.

“Etokuso is a do-ocracy.” Mora explained. “Tasks, jobs, and power go to those who rise and take on the responsibility. Chadwick was originally the assistant manager to Sara, our guide. When we dissolved our corporate structure and official governance, he maintained the same amount of mutual aid he was already providing, so he is a well respected pilar of our community. He enters with my full trust and love.”

The woman lowered her hand and looked up at the intimidating minotaur. “You outrank her?”

“We don’t do hierarchies, bro.” Chadwick was firm. “Mora’s role is equally as important as mine and the baker’s.”

She took a step back and began talking to her people in her native language. Mora paid close attention and tried to read the face of the crowd, but they gave nothing away.

The woman turned back. “What do you have to say?”

It wasn’t anger. No. Her brow wasn’t deep enough. It was desparate hope.

“I am Chadwick Van Helsing.” He offered a slight bow. “This is my friend Mora Dong. We are here to ask you if you would like to contribute your artisan fabrics and artistry to our community.”

The woman considered them for a long moment. “What do you know of our people? Our fabrics and our artistry?”

“I would like to answer that.” Mora inserted herself calmly, switching to a new language. “In Iwagatan, if I could, please.”

The woman’s eyes gave their first sign of life as they widened.

“You know our language?” She spoke her tongue.

“I’ve read Iwagata: A Woman’s Dismantling three times.” Mora replied.

The challenge in her posture slipped almost imperceptibly at the mention. All she needed. “How do you know that book?”

Mora considered the shift in the crowd. They were paying attention now. “Because ‘My father thought he could dictate the woman I became. I bled to prove him wrong.’”

Her eyes didn’t soften, they recognized. Just like Mora had recognized. “Another daughter of a soon dead tyrant. We are the same.”

“No.” Mora corrected gently, shocking the woman. “We may both be queens, but our circumstances are different.”

“Mora…” Chadwick sensed the disturbance in the crowd. “Is—"

“Queen Yurinaga Yukari.” Mora kept going. “You have been such a revolutionary figure in my life. But the one thing that differentiates us is I got out.”

Her eyes hardened and her tone flattened. “What do you mean? I am my own woman.”

“Yes. You are.” Mora didn’t flinch. “But you keep making the same choice.”

Her head cocked and her brow furrowed. “What choice?”

“You keep refusing help from men.”

She was stunned. “What…”

“You wrote the words, did you not?” Mora asked. “Seeing all the women in here, it took me a moment, but I see it. You turned down help from the Terrafloppers and the Broalition of Rainbows because of the men.”

She stared long and hard. “There were other reasons with the Broalition.”

“Is that so?” Mora asked. “The Broalition of Rainbows has saved over five thousand refugees from hostile countries just like yours. What possible reason could it be?”

“They don’t represent our…” She took a long moment to compose her answer. “Beliefs.”

“Your beliefs?” Mora continued. She had to make her say the words first. “They only stand for two things, and you are clearly supportive of refugee relocation.”

She paused for a long time. “We’re done here. Go.”

“Ok.” Mora accepted her decision and shifted back to common. “Let’s go, Chaddy Daddy.”

The confusion on his face was plain, but he put his full faith in her and followed. They got halfway to the door before the call came.

“You’re the first ones who didn’t fight.” The woman shrugged. “Guess you don’t believe in your cause so much, do you?”

Mora didn’t stop. “We’re leaving because we do.”

Just before she reached the door, she heard the question she didn’t know she was waiting for. “Do you even know one of those godless people?”

Her demeanor shifted instantly. It was her time to shine. She turned and confidently came back with a smile. “I do. Hundreds. They are my family, my friends, my girlfriends, my partners, my baker, my bologna bucket salesman. And, they are me.”

“You’re…” Her eyes widened.

“Gayer than a room full of sheep all going home single.” Mora was pleased with herself.

The room breathed collectively around her, but she was unmoved.

“Do you…” She was unreadable. “Do you just tell everyone that?”

Mora pulled out her phone and scrolled to her pics of Etokuso’s massive affirming banners and rainbows hanging all over the city. “We promote it. Publicly.”

The breathing around her became disjointed. Frantic and needy.

Two women, hands held in a death grip together pushed through the crowd. “Will we be killed? For our love?”

Mora’s heart broke. “Of course, not. You’ll be able to live free. The first rule is Never Hide Your Love. We do not accept repression of self, only expression of self.”

The woman stepped between them, facing her people. “We’ve survived by staying hidden!”

“And we’ve thrived by coming out.” Mora responded cooly.

“But, you’ve been destroyed once.” She countered.

“We have.” Chadwick spoke, not speaking about the queen’s failed attempt to save their last home. “And, we lost lives. Death is inevitable in this world. But at least you and your partners can be free while you’re waiting.”

“Partners?” She was flustered.

“Partners, girlfriends, wives, earlbonded,” Chadwick said. “We don’t want performance from you. We want you as you are.”

“Come take what you fought so hard for.” Mora held her hand out to the woman. “It’s yours to take. But, its also yours to leave.”

She thought for a long time, stealing glances at a woman who looked eager for a chance to be seen. “You truly don’t see us as trash?”

Mora smiled. “I see you as radiant. All of you. We have three hundred homes available now. We will have more soon.”

“You can’t save us.” She said, her granite exterior crumbling.

“We don’t want to.” Mora said. “We want to give you agency to save yourself.”

“We aren’t offering you a perfect outcome.” Chadwick said. “You can, and will still fail. All of us do. We just want to provide a net so you don’t fall back to nothing.”

“All of this for our fabrics?” She wondered.

“No.” Mora shook her head. “For your friendships. For your light. For your craft and food and drink. We want you to open whatever businesses you want to supplement your universal basic income.”

The pretense dropped as she looked at the same woman, a glimmer of actual hope in her eyes. The Kuzu started talking amongst themselves for a moment.

“There are eight hundred and nine of us, total.” She was a different woman. “The rest are hidden. I’ll send three hundred. First those with children, the sick, the elderly.”

“Perfect.” A heavy sense of unease dropped from Mora’s chest. “Thank you, Yurinaga.”

“Please.” She said, taking the hand of the woman who had stood at her side the whole time. “Call me Yuri.”