KOJIMA, KEIKO

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There is a certain demure about her. An air of sophistication and tenderness that exudes quite readily to those she meets. Respect is afforded to those that approach her for whatever they may need, for as her role dictates, most that would come to her are there for help, and those in need tend to be in dire straits, in need of assurance. However, as they speak, as they explain their issues or problems, there's something behind her eyes. A seven person panel of judges, simultaniously evalutating multiple aspects of the subject with the most ruthless standards. Yet, she manages to translate it into pleasantries. She understands better than they do, better than anyone, the potential disaster of frailty. She tries so desperately to weave between eggshells, avoiding whatever conflict that could so easily break her ego. So in the room she stays. Useful. Convenient.[break][break]

But in that room, if you decide to stay, if you see what's behind her eye and are captivated by this young intelligent madam, you will be introduced to a much more vehemet mind. One that thrives on constantly improving in her field through whatever means, through playing games, reading pages upon pages of textbooks, and running her numeric simulations. Success and failure play tug of war with her smile, while there are many roads to either end, it is that binary that has dominated her life. Every victory is impactful in the same way, and vice versa. The more she learns, the more options she has. The more options she has, the more chance of success in any situation. There are never no options. There is never not a way to bring out an underdog victory.

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You've probably seen the inside of a hospital room. Nothing special, not very spatious, sometimes there's a T.V. Though it's a special thing to see when waking up. That blurry, blinding white of a cold, alien place shakes the system unlike anything else. You forget everything irrelevant, what your name is, what day it is, what day it was, why you're even there, just to agonize to find the first pertinent answer to where am I? Then it came back to her. Her name was Keiko. It was a Saturday. She looked up, around, desperate for more information. The feeling was familiar. She was always this hungry. Up above the west window was an electric wall clock, with a date. It was a Saturday now. 2 weeks later. Immediately, her mind rebounded off her skull in a throbbing headache, retreating inward to find that lost time. She could barely manage a whimper. When there was nothing there to be found, at the moment, her body began to take in what she could feel. The IV in her arm, the dryness of her throat, the electrodes on her chest, the weakness in her legs. She couldn't move them right now. She could barely press down the button on the bed to sit her upright. Everything she was able to move hurt. Like she'd been hit by a truck.[break][break]
Wait.[break][break]
That's exactly what happened. A blue Nissan. Not too far from school. But why was she in the road? She knew better than that. She was 10, she'd been walking to school for ages by now, and she was far from stupid. So why?...There was something buzzing at her, blurring her mental image.[break][break]
"Shut up," she snapped at nothing. It stopped and the rewind continued uninterrupted. Agonizing moments of the fall played in reverse. Fear inside her receded and became...hot. Anger. She had been red faced, screaming at someone before. Who? [break][break]
The buzzing started back, obviously not heading the first stab. She raspily yelled "Shut up!" again. There were faces now. Not looking down, but looking at her. In uniforms she recognized. With faces she recognized. It was Yukira, from her chorus class. She'd...she'd had that smug smirk on. Something about a solo. A solo Keiko had wanted badly. About how Teacher had felt bad that Yukira always got upstaged. Then there it was. The sharp pressure against her rib cage. A very firm push.[break][break]
"KEIKO!" There she was. Mom. She must've been sitting there this whole time. She was smiling under her tears. She talked insessintly, how happy she was to see her awake, this and that. Keiko could only apologize about what she'd done, Mother would only tell her it wasn't her fault. Like with alot of things, Mother was wrong. No doctor had come to tell Keiko exactly what was wrong with her, about what dragon laid in front of her. Mom had it covered. Keiko laughed at first. Like with alot of things, Mother was wrong. She had to be. She was. [break][break]
Keiko kicked. The blanket didn't flinch. She kicked harder. Nothing. She raised her leg. Nothing. Mother was wrong, wasn't she?[break][break]

Keiko was not an athlete. She was not hampered in her studies by a chair. But it made her seethe to think she had taken her own freedom away through anger. Through jealousy. Through contempt for those that didn't even deserve her envy. So many things became walls, building a fortress around her. What was once this very regal, masterful, obnoxious little girl shut herself away in her tower to pass her time making up for her deficiency. It wasn't enough to be best of her grade. She had to learn and master material one or two years ahead of her. To study the human psyche so that her conflicts never became physical. She would shape herself to never become a target again. She would exercise her mind with strategy games and numb the waves between homework and sleep with movies. Movies of heroes, of people who could surpass their odds. Who always found the option.[break][break]
3 years later, she would meet a younger boy and learn about a simple yet captivating card game, and the overcomplicated meta that accompanied it. Not long after, some damnable monster would burst through her computer after going through several torrented movies. Between then and now, she had met someone on one of her rare excursions to a family dinner. He had a gadget much like her. He handed over a card with an email address. There was an assessement, From her ability to play the cards, to being able to command her partner, to commanding an army. Logistics, coordination, it all came naturally to her. But it was that pleasant smile that won him over. She was offered a position. She, of course, accepted. The agents in the field call her 2K. She's always there for them.