9. Lycoris Radiata Herb (Cluster Amaryllis)

Picture album.

A New Girl

A resplendent view of the Piazza del Campo of Siena greets the start of the episode; yet despite the sunlit architecture and happy people, the music ("Agitazione" - agitation, stirring) hints at a deep unease.  A girl with twin braids is seen walking through the crowds.  Her face is not shown in full, only the thin line of a mouth held in strict seriousness.  An olive beret, army green duffel coat, and dark gloves give her a professional military appearance, contrasted with the presence of an Amati case in her hand.  A new cyborg.

Meanwhile her handler sits in a vehicle hidden in an alley.  Like the girl, his eyes are hidden with only a down-turned mouth evident.  He discusses the mission over the phone: several targets, including a policeman, are to be assassinated, with pictures taken for leverage.  This operation is a power squabble.  As the conversation ends only the outside of the car is shown, where the trainer's final "Roger" can be heard with a casual, almost jocular, tone.  Unlike his expression there is no solemnity in the voice.

The girl walks purposefully into a hotel lobby; she does not attempt to hide but strides resolutely past the other guests.  Shown for the first time in full, her face is intense, complementing her focused bearing.  She proceeds up the stairs to the rooms without delay.  Ascending past the targeted suite the camouflage of the girls is once again proven; even lacking in subtlety the guard dismisses her presence.  On the landing above she contacts her handler:

Elsa: "Lauro, this is Elsa."

Lauro: "Oh, how does it look?" (Casual)

Elsa: "The same as yesterday.  There's one officer in front of the door."

Lauro: "Okay.  Take a rifle and go all out on them."

Elsa: "Yes, sir."

Lauro: "Don't forget the pictures." (Insistent)

Elsa's speech is surprisingly gentle.  As she addresses Lauro her face softens, losing its severity if not its seriousness.  Her trainer's responses are off-handed, and his injunction to begin the mission is cavalier; he doesn't order her to "kill them" or "start the operation" but "to go all out" as though he were delivering good news.  Telling her to have fun.  He is only serious when he reminds her of the pictures.  Elsa's replies lack such levity.

With the communication over, Elsa continues to the floor above and enters the elevator.  Removing her bulky outer clothing, she assembles the rifle from its case in preparation for the assault, pressing the button for the level below with the muzzle to avoid fingerprints.  Her face has regained its harshness, but as she waits for the door to open a shadow of melancholy passes over and she reaches up to casually brush one of the braids from her shoulder.  The smallest reminder: even with her fearsome demeanor, she is still a little girl.

Disregard

The suppressed tension that has been building explodes with the opening of the elevator.  Before the guard can lift his face from weary boredom he is gunned down.  Elsa waits for a moment to confirm his death before kicking in the door and charging the room with a look of grim intensity.  The two men sitting on the couch are slaughtered before they can draw their weapons, but in her rush she is now exposed on either side.

Guarding her eyes with her forearm, she blocks a shot without flinching, returning fire in a crisply practiced response.  The second man kicks the rifle from her hands and attempts to strike her, only to be thrown to the ground.  She looks down with vague disdain before executing him using a handgun drawn from the waist.  This entire attack reeked of vehement, almost reckless, aggression.  Behind the focus and skill are intense emotions in this girl.  And now, with only the dead remaining, she calmly removes the camera from her pocket and takes pictures.

Back at the car, Lauro is casually threatening the police chief that the latter should reconsider his position to support terrorists rather than the government:

"If I hear any complaints, you'll be next.  We have a lot to do too, you see..."

Even as he warns the man, Lauro is skimming a magazine.  For the first time his whole expression is visible as he speaks.  The displeased mouth was not tenseness or sadness; it was boredom and irritation that the police chief was making this more difficult than he thought it needed to be.  He ordered the slaughter of these men while reading the editorials.

As he hangs up, Elsa approaches the car with wide eyes and a happy smile on her face.  She surprises him with a rap at the window, and he rolls it down to listen while giving her a sidelong look:

Lauro: "All done?"

Elsa: "Yes!  It was very easy--" (Excitedly)

Lauro: (Cutting her off) "Did you get the pictures?"

(Elsa jerks in dismay)

Elsa: "Yes." (Deflated)

(Elsa reaches into her pocket and hands Lauro the camera)

Lauro: "There's still some film left.  You should've used it all."

(Lauro takes a picture of himself in the rearview mirror)

Lauro: "There.  Have it developed when we get back to the agency." 

(Elsa is staring intently at the camera in his hand)

Elsa: "Yes, sir." (Distractedly)

Lauro: "Alright!  Let's go."

Lauro's character is rapidly becoming clear.  He doesn't invite Elsa into the car or get out to greet her; he keeps her standing, outside, a physical barrier between him and his cyborg.  Flippantly, he lectures her on using up the film.  This is a menial criticism, and grotesque in light of the images the camera contains, yet it still demeans her.  To finish the roll he takes a narcissistic picture of himself before gaily concluding the conversation, glad to be done working.

Familiarity with the girls allows Elsa's smile to be understood for what it is: she didn't intrinsically take pleasure in the killing, but was anticipating Lauro's praise.  She fulfilled her orders flawlessly and wanted nothing more than to hear him say, "Good job, Elsa."  Failing to give her this smallest, yet greatest, of rewards is cruel.  Despite his gross failure to recognize her, the camera that now contains a picture of him is alluring.

Teaching By Example

The girls are studying in a classroom with Hilshire at the board.  Henrietta, Rico, and Claes are all sitting in the same column of benches but in different rows, as Triela circulates.  Together, yet still separated.  Elsa sits across the aisle, distant from the rest.

Rico begins to struggle with her German work, prompting Triela to come and help her.  Even if Hilshire is nominally the instructor, it is Triela who is teaching them.  As she does this Henrietta watches expressionlessly from the row above.


Hidden here is an ugly contrast, not only of the farce that is treating them to school, but in the numbers and words Rico is translating.  They are not random.  The former are common calibers of ammunition, which Triela remarks Rico should learn quickly, and the latter terms for relationships, secondary to the weaponry.  Man, woman, father, mother, and... student.  Not even child, or girl, or daughter, but receptacle for the SWA.  This place twists everything.

Spontaneously, Triela turns to Elsa, and Henrietta's attention follows suit:

Triela: "Elsa.  Is there any part you don't understand?"
(Elsa gives Triela a dismissive look)
Elsa: "There isn't."

With this last pronouncement, Elsa casually lowers her eyes back to her work, an unspoken, "And don't ask me again."  Henrietta blinks furiously at seeing kindness rebuffed like this.  Triela's smile does not falter and she gives Elsa an understanding look:

"Is that so." (Gently)

Contextually, this is about Elsa's school work, with the subsequent rebuttal emphasizing the self-enforced nature of her isolation.  But there is a broader point here: is there anything Elsa doesn't understand?  In her mind, the answer is emphatically 'no.'  There is nothing of importance she doesn't understand.  She has her trainer and her loyalty to him; that is all that she requires.


Triela sees this, and with a wise, "Oh really?" acknowledges this is where Elsa is at, and that there is nothing to be done to convince her otherwise.  Henrietta takes this whole exchange in raptly; as it ends, she thinks to herself:

If there were ten people, all ten of them wouldn't be able to get along.  That goes for both children and adults.  The same is true for we conditioned girls.  Elsa lives in her room alone, and rarely talks to us.  I wouldn't reach out to talk to her but...

This is the first time Henrietta's thoughts are conveyed directly.  They are simple ponderings, but coherent.  She is making sense of the world.  These girls are human, and like all humans they don't have to like each other, even if they share a common predicament.  Elsa is a loner, and while Henrietta doesn't hate her, it is simply natural to not try and engage such a person, but...


...with lesson over, Henrietta leaves the classroom to see Triela talking with Elsa privately in the hall.  Alone, Elsa appears to be showing slightly more respect, although Triela's friendly posture indicates that she isn't here for that anyway.  This isn't a lecture for disagreeableness.  Something in this behavior draws Henrietta, and she engages Triela as they walk together through the compound:

Henrietta: "You talk to Elsa, don't you?"

Triela: "Well, I just tell her important messages and stuff."

Henrietta: "I'm... having trouble starting a conversation with her." (Troubled)

Triela: "I don't like her either... all she does is stick to Lauro." (Irritated)

(Triela gazes fondly at Henrietta)

Triela: "If only she were as adorable as you..."

Henrietta: "You talk to her, even though you don't like her?"

Triela: "How should I say this?  It's easy to avoid people you dislike and it's comfortable that way, but... I guess it's the way I am."

Henrietta listens raptly, and smiles at the conclusion; she is warmed to hear these things, even if she doesn't fully understand.  Normally Triela's behavior might be construed as politeness, but she is intentionally pursuing contact even after being rejected, and when others are not looking.  Given her prior behavior, this hints at something more; she is not motivated by social niceties.


What is being shown is Triela's essence, the willful application of compassion.  This isn't about liking everybody equally, as she clearly has a favorite in Henrietta, or even liking a person at all.  Being around Elsa doesn't give her pleasure, and she closes her eyes in frustration just thinking about it.  Yet despite this, she repeatedly overrides her less charitable inclinations and extends concern as a conscious act.  Detestable, irritating, abrasive Elsa.  Lonely, confused, hurting Elsa.  She is worthy of being cared for by virtue of her existence; nothing more is required.


Even in her profundity, Triela is self-effacing.  Her explanation that she just communicates essentials is demonstrably false, as she just tried to engage Elsa for no other reason than to include her.  At the end, she attempts to redirect attention away with resignation toward her character, as though it were nothing exceptional and she could not take credit for it.  Triela is not here to proclaim herself.

The scene continues to the cafeteria where Triela mentions that both Henrietta and Claes used to be as scary as Elsa, trying to bring some empathy to her little sister.  As she says this she picks up her saucer politely with the cup to drink; an example of how to do things right.

Henrietta: "So, thanks to Triela...?"

Triela: "Hey, I'm not that conceited." (Laughingly)

(Triela gazes at Henrietta benevolently, her eyes narrowing in sadness, before she turns to look out the window while speaking with soft lament)

Triela: "It all depends on the person who's in charge of you and the conditioning..."

Henrietta: "The person in charge...?"

Henrietta voices this last line thoughtfully, realizing for the first time what the term "handler" implies.  What does it mean Jose is "in charge of" her?  Wait, if Bianchi and Ferro and all the adults of Section Two don't care about her... then why is Jose here?  This question is so improprietous it causes her to blush, and she jerks in surprise when the final connection is made.  What if Jose is kind to her just because he needs her to work for him?  Even as the thought presents itself her mind recoils at its unfaithfulness, and she reflexively sips her tea to soothe the embarrassment and confusion.


Triela does not notice Henrietta's disquietude, and her objection to the presumption that she is great is predictable now; she doesn't want recognition, even as it is clear how much the other girls owe to her invisible guidance.  But in this too there is wisdom: Triela knows she cannot take credit for everything her friends are.  Indeed, much is beyond her control; that's just how it is, and why she cannot help Elsa.  It is a fact that brings Triela persistent sorrow which she, too, must live with.


Not wanting to linger here, Triela turns back to Henrietta and slyly asks:

Triela: "You're fine with Claes but not with Elsa?"
(Triela places her head on the back of her hand)
Triela: "Claes is pretty unsociable too." (Playful)
Henrietta: "I don't really know how, but she's just different..." (Serious)

After Henrietta says this, the the image pans across the table, to where Triela is grinning puckishly, making a mischievous "mmm?" sound at the response.  She is toying with her junior while teasing her roommate as a bonus.  She knows the question has no proper answer: either Henrietta defends Claes, which would not be truthful as Claes is frequently distant, or she impolitely admits to the allegation, insulting a respected senior.  Henrietta unconsciously attempts to avoid both answers, much to Triela's amusement.  With this irrepressible roguishness that has no real bite, the conversation is cunningly diverted from her good works and sadness.


In this case the trickster is caught in the act as Claes joins them; just a flash of Triela's alert face is shown as a real opponent appears.

"You used to be afraid of me, Triela?"  

Claes has turned the tables, putting Triela in the awkward position: Triela must retract the statement or commit to it, either course causing her to lose.  Triela can only hold up her hands in surrender; it seems her roommate wins this round.


Charitably, Claes offers the results of her daily cooking; she may be withdrawn and enigmatic, but it isn't for unkindness' sake.  There are other ways to thoughtfully improve the lives of her cohorts.  Triela can't leave the score as it stands, though, offering an overly-respectful:

Triela: "Thank you as always, Claes-sama!"
Claes: "What?  How uncouth."

Claes is her match again.  If Triela is going to play the brat she'll give her the matronly scolding she deserves.  Henrietta watches this exchange, smiling at this demonstration of genuine friendship.

Eye on the Target

At the outdoor training range Rico, Triela, and Henrietta are practicing sniping, supervised by Marco.  Out of the hospital, Angelica has joined as well.  Henrietta fires off a respectable shot, hitting the target around the clavicle, while in the background Angelica can be seen already tiring from the effort.  Even if she's back, she's still not fully recovered.


Jose approaches from behind with a rifle in hand, interrupting the training as everybody turns to notice his presence.  Henrietta as always watches him with particular intensity:

Marco: "Ah, Jose.  Are you practicing too?"
Jose: "Something like that." (Evasive)

With his characteristic prevaricating, Jose all but confirms this is not the case.  There is only one possible reason why he has come, yet for some reason he ignores her, pointedly turning to address Angelica while not even acknowledging Henrietta:

Jose: "How are you, Angelica?"
Angelica: "My 'self' has mostly come back."
(Pause)
Jose: "I see.  Don't push yourself too hard though." (Disbelieving)
Angelica: "Yes." (Smiling)

As Jose talks to Angelica, Marco maintains his stony silence, as though he cannot hear what is being said.  Especially not Angelica's sad attempts to affirm her readiness to serve once more, and whereby get him to accept her again.  Her return has not improved this either.


Henrietta's response to this exchange is immediate.  Having completely stopped practicing, she can only stare at Jose's turned back as her expression degenerates from a light blush to a jealous little glare at being excluded from his attentions.  It is a peevishness rooted in insecurity, and she immediately turns back to target practice to prove her worth, hoping he will notice her again.


The conversation over, Jose retreats to the sidelines to watch along with Marco.  Henrietta, despite her redoubled effort, has become dramatically worse.  All of her mind is centered on Jose rather than the task at hand; his presence impedes her training rather than assisting it.  He watches this with narrowed, judging eyes, a fact that Henrietta worriedly takes note of.  Her performance only further degrades as she tries to impress him, becoming more distressed all the while.

Getting Along

Afterward, Jose and Henrietta are walking alone beneath a beautiful fading sky.  Jose gently scolds her:

Jose: "I'm still better than you at sniping."
Henrietta: "How can I get better at it?"
Jose: "If someone knew how, I'd like to know too.  It's something that you just have to practice a lot to get better at."
Henrietta: "Yes." (Happily)

Jose's behavior presents a riddle.  Despite attending with a rifle, he neither demonstrated nor offered advice.  Watching her closely he could not have failed to notice her struggles, yet still did not intervene.  Now he highlights her insufficiency, suggesting that to get better, to be like him, is a mysterious process which cannot be elucidated.  Where have the smaller, simpler tasks gone?


Knowing how aware Jose is of the effect he has on Henrietta, there can only be one disturbing conclusion: this is not an accident.  His actions, then and now, emotionally indenture her.  First an exclusion which provokes anxiety, followed by an opportunity to re-earn his approval.  Finally, a reminder that she isn't perfect, motivating her to try harder and feel grateful that she gets his attention at all.

And it works.  Henrietta now gazes at him with open adoration, unaware of how she has been manipulated.  This is her wonderful Jose, and with no other girls around she has him all to herself this pleasant evening.


Her happiness is rudely interrupted by Lauro driving up in his vehicle, honking obnoxiously to proclaim his presence:

Jose: "I thought you were chasing the R.F. in Tuscany?" (Surprised)
Lauro: "Already took care of it.  But the local police are hiding 'em so there's a bit left to do."
Jose: "I see." (Breathily polite)
Lauro: "Oh, yeah.  You're free this week, right?  I'd like your help, if that's okay.  I'll give you the details tonight."
Jose: "Alright." (Face is carefully neutral)
Lauro: "Well, see you later!" (Perky)

If there are ten people together, not all ten will like each other.  The same is true of adults.  Jose barely conceals his dismay.  Having Lauro out of town was pleasant and his sudden return is unwelcome; the "I see" is one of disappointment that this man wasn't gone longer.  True to form, without even getting out of the car, Lauro corners Jose into helping him before speeding off, cheerily unconcerned about any inconvenience he has caused.


During this exchange Henrietta stares at Lauro from behind Jose, obviously less than excited to have him intrude on her moment.  But there is something else; she seems to almost be hiding, until she peeks out to gaze at the real problem: Elsa sitting in the passenger's seat.  The girl is staring pointedly away until Lauro brings up asking for Jose's help, at which point her eyes shift to glance at the latter in open hostility.  She doesn't like being insufficient for Lauro and would prefer if other people weren't involved.


After the other fratello is gone, Henrietta timidly asks if she'll be working with Elsa.  Jose says she just might be, causing her to let out a quiet sound of dismay as she stares at the retreating car.  More than a little intimidated, Henrietta finds she is particularly disquited by this other cyborg who exhibits such hostility toward those who would take her handler's attention from her.


Back at the SWA, Elsa returns to her room.  It is utterly spartan, with no furnishings except a bed and an uncushioned chair.  As she closes the door her face falls to thoughtful melancholy, with crushing sadness barely kept at bay.  It is similar to the look she gave before the elevator opened, the one that comes unbidden when she waits in silent moments.


In the background a new song plays faintly; it is emotional, a medley of strings going quietly up and down in sorrow.  Elsa's song, and it is anything but threatening.


Elsa takes a seat and begins polishing her rifle, the cold and dismal moonlight shining through the window.  As she continues to work her face is downcast; she knew the isolation that awaited her when she entered the room, and stared blankly at that future.  This child is superbly unhappy in these moments when there is nobody to convince and nothing to distract her.  She is so alone.


In solace she turns to the picture resting on the window sill.  It is of Lauro in the car, the one he took to waste the film.  She has gathered it, framed it, and now holds to this cast-off desperately.  Staring deep into the small triangle of his face that is visible her gaze fills with infatuated adoration.  Her breathless tone and happy stares toward Lauro were more than subservience; behind her harsh exterior is a tender core that is deeply attached to this careless man.


Her enamored reverie is interrupted by a knock.  She stands up, asking who it is in her soft whisper of a voice.  Her eyes are expectant; it might be Lauro, here to rescue her from solitude.  Maybe he's come at last.  But the door opens and her face falls into displeased irritation, made all the uglier by disappointment.  It is Henrietta, standing anxiously at the threshold, unsure if Elsa will let her in:

"I thought we might talk..."

Henrietta has been watching Triela's grace.  She has felt that kindness firsthand and observed its effects on others.  Just seeing such a person engenders the desire to be better than she is, even if it means facing Elsa.  Jose may be Henrietta's handler, trying to guide her behavior for his own benefit, but Triela is her inspiration to overcome fear and selfishness when there is nothing to gain for herself.

Jose vs. Lauro

The final handler comparison scene of the series, a contrast between Jose and Lauro.  Sitting at an expensive bar, mixing business with pleasure, Lauro explains in his easygoing way how he had a policeman killed as an example:

"But the police chief refused to yield.  In fact, he threatened to announce the existence of the agency."

Up to this point Jose has been wary, but with this latest revelation his eyes widen and he becomes interested in Lauro's problem.  This is something which neither of them can allow, and Lauro's answer is to snipe the police chief.  It'll be "a cinch with two cyborgs."

Jose: "A sniping attack, huh?" (Slightly dismayed)
Lauro: "What?  Is Henrietta a bad sharpshooter?"
Jose: "No, she's decent enough.  But she might try to show off in front of me or the others." (Troubled)
(Pause while Jose takes a drink)
Jose: "I guess we'll do it.  I do want to make Henrietta more confident."

Jose is faced with a conundrum.  His behavior has dulled Henrietta's performance and made her insecure, and now he awkwardly needs her proficient to get what he wants.  To overcome the cognitive dissonance he takes a drink, allowing him to decide once again in his own favor.  He will now use her lack of confidence as an excuse to go on a mission which is important for himself.  His last statement is revoltingly insincere.  Something is going wrong inside this man.


Taking the sentiment at face value, Lauro gives him a disapproving look:

Lauro: "Do you always worry about the cyborgs like that?"
Jose: "Yeah..." (Jose's eyes narrow)
Lauro: "So the rumors are true?"
Jose: "What kind of rumors?"
Lauro: "All kinds." (Theatrically scandalized)
(A short pause and then Jose smiles)
Jose: "I don't know.  Half of them are probably true."

Another frustrating problem for Jose: he knows what his exorbitant gifts look like from the outside, and that Henrietta's dewy-eyed reactions only bolster the unsavory impression.  But they are a convenient way to handle her, so he persists, and covers his initial petulant scowl with a knowing and confident expression that says, "Nothing to be done about it."  What's Lauro gonna do, report him to the authorities?


This relaxed front finds itself undermined when he again reaches for alcohol to cover the situation, only to find himself out.  He blinks unhappily, unsure of what to do.  Luckily for Jose, Lauro is here to congenially help others continue rationalizing and pours him more:

Lauro: "I've seen how you treat her... I really can't stand messed-up guys like you." (Unironically)
Jose: "Then don't invite them drinking." (Peevish)
Lauro: "Idiot.  I invite 'em because I dislike 'em.  By approaching them and having heart-to-heart talks like this, I can learn what makes 'em tick.  That way I can tell what I like and don't like about them.  From what I can tell, you seem like a pretty good guy, Jose."
(Lauro raises his glass to Jose, who is forced to smile and toasts him in return)
Jose: "Thank you."
Lauro: "As Kennedy once said, 'Let us not be blind to our differences.'" (Cheerily)

Lauro is showing himself to be quite socially fluent through the application of glib amicability.  Despite what appears to be an abrasive front he knows exactly how to handle the touchy Jose.  His forthrightness and pretense at morals gives him a patina of sincerity, such that when he concludes Jose is a "good guy" it appears genuine.  Yet this assessment is based on nothing more than Jose being an unobjectionable drinking partner, while not ruling out that he has an illicit relationship with Henrietta.


This is the opposite of a heart-to-heart talk; Lauro doesn't judge Jose so Jose won't judge him, and together they can be blind to their differences for superficial coexistence.  The presence of this speech in the same episode as Triela's explanation of her actions is significant.  His is a shallow facsimile of the care she exhibits, an acceptance-of-convenience that is no acceptance at all.  Lauro's actions inspire nobody.  Yet they work, and with his newly-filled glass Jose toasts him back.

Henrietta vs. Elsa

"There's nothing to talk about."

Things are not as cordial between the girls.  It is a reversal from their trainers: Elsa is acerbic and unfriendly, refusing to even entertain an accord, while Henrietta plaintively tries to find common ground.  This is her first attempt at making peace and it isn't going well.  She doesn't know what to do, imploring Elsa that they must work together.

"Fine, I'll warn you now.  If you get in Lauro's way, I won't forgive you!"

Henrietta is surprised and hurt by this unwarranted pronouncement.  All she wanted was to be friendly, to do for Elsa what Triela does for everybody.  She can't understand where all this anger is coming from, or why it is directed at her.  What is she doing wrong that Elsa isn't opening up?  She asks why can't Elsa get along with everyone else.  Elsa's answer is all that is needed:

"Who is more important to you?  Your handler or the other cyborgs?"
(Voice grows faint with fondness) 
"Lauro is the most important to me.  Nothing else matters.  I'm going to use all of my time for Lauro's sake.  I think about Lauro as I polish his rifle for him... "
(A long pause while Henrietta stares at her unhappily) 
"...despite not knowing how long we have to live!  None of you have love!"  (Crescendo of anger) 

Elsa's devotion has developed into fanaticism.  Lauro's complete failure to care for her has paradoxically inflamed her passion rather than weakening it.  She is an abandoned child, become desperate with the all-consuming need to connect to her "parent," unable to form proper bonds because of the lack.  Her hostility is want, her unsociability a reflection of dysfunctional and uncertain attachment.


Even now she pushes everything away, denying even herself and her needs, as though they too are merely competitors with her one true good, offering it all as a sacrifice.  For deep in her heart, she believes Lauro loves her.  She just isn't good enough to have earned his recognition yet.  Next time she will do a better job, next time she won't fail him, and he will finally tell her she is a hardworking and appreciated girl.  This is what "her" Lauro has done to her.


In the face of such vehemence Henrietta recoils, but then begins to quiver with emotion herself.  If there is one thing in this world that matters the most to her, it is Jose.  She cannot have that questioned by somebody else, especially not this self-satisfied opponent.  To Elsa's surprise she lashes back:

"That's not... That's not true!  I... I... love Jose very much!"

But Henrietta's retort is blunted, stammering, weakened by the quandaries of this episode.  She wants to be like Triela, and is no longer certain why she loves Jose.  It isn't as simple as it used to be; she can no longer match such single-mindedness.  Elsa can hear the uncertainty, even as Henrietta tries to project confidence:

"Is that so?  Then there's nothing more to talk about.  Leave."

Henrietta turns and stalks out with the best control she can muster.  Elsa stares after her uncaring, affirmed in her belief that only she truly loves her trainer.  Henrietta leans just outside the door, trying to contain herself, before dashing off in distress.  She couldn't be Triela and let Jose down in her heart.  This has been a disaster.

Jose vs. Lauro, Round Two

Jose begins to talk while the image of Henrietta, rejected and hurt, remains on screen.  It is as though he is being shamed from afar by the earnest attempts of his tenderhearted girl.  She worked up the courage to be genuine and confront Elsa over their differences.  Where is Jose's conviction to stand up to this man who is carrying him away while creating a girl like Elsa?

Jose: "I realize you put importance on being sociable."
Lauro: "Why, thank you.  I'm glad I invited you drinking after all."
Jose: "But don't you think you're a little cold toward Elsa?"
(Lauro pauses mid-sip and gives Jose a look of dismayed concern)
Lauro: "Don't confuse cyborgs for colleagues.  You'll never see me infatuated with those things like you are."

Jose just broke their little pact and Lauro is disappointed.  How could Jose be so unpleasant as to spoil their good time by mentioning something as menial as the emotional privation he inflicts on Elsa?  The front of acceptance vanishes in an instant, and he retorts with a reminder of Jose's supposed failings, an unspoken, "I gave you a pass on your behavior, but don't think I forgot."  This is as deep as Lauro's friendship goes, and Jose is staring coolly now as he listens:

"I try not to think about it too hard about them."
(Pauses and then smiles)
"Cyborgs are definitely great.  They hold your gun or go buy panini for you if you told them to.  But you don't have to do anything for them.  I wouldn't be able to work if I felt bad for all the children in Section Two."
(A long pause)
"Oh, that's just my opinion.  You should do what you think is best for you."

Lauro's life philosophy: to get along, just don't think too hard.  He compartmentalizes the girls out of the reach of sympathy.  Life would be inconvenient otherwise, and he detests inconvenience.  But he can't have Jose thinking that he's preaching; after all, that would be a moral imposition on Jose's freedom of conscience.  So he appends that this is merely his opinion, take it or leave it.  Jose is free to do whatever he wants, as long as Lauro is granted the same back.


There is something deeply terrifying about this man.  Lauro is a perfectly functional, cordial human who, due to expedience rather than intent, subjects Elsa to excruciating deprivation.  His is the evil of apathy, committed as a side effect of taking the path of least resistance.  When confronted he becomes indignant; the reaction doesn't even rise to the level of anger, as he is more annoyed with this breach of etiquette than accusations of child abuse.  Behind his charm this man is vapid and self-absorbed.  Jose asks him why he came to the organization:

Lauro: "Because they pay well.  I'm going to need money soon."
(Lauro pauses for a long time in reflection; this is the most serious thing he's said all night)
Lauro: "Cyborgs are a lot of trouble; they provide us with all sorts of problems, don't you think?"
(Jose stares at Lauro with dislike before lowering his eyes and grinning to himself as he speaks)
Jose: "And we don't have enough handlers who'd take care of them, either." // "And we don't have handlers to take care of us, either." (see below)
Lauro: "Isn't that right!" (With sympathy)

Despite almost being taken in, Jose has just enough conscience left to be appalled at Laruo's open disregard for his cyborg.  Knowing how Henrietta feels, he can only dread what Lauro's actions must be costing Elsa.  But Lauro does not care about any of this; accepting the love of his girl is a troublesome complication for an otherwise plum job.


Jose's final response is a clever and biting insult.  In Japanese his statement is ambiguous: he says that there is a shortage of handlers, but for whom he leaves unspecified.  It is a charge against Lauro that he fails his duty to Elsa, and a lament that there are not enough caring people in the world.  But Lauro, by choosing to interpret Jose's statement as commiseration, confirms his egotism and condemns himself.


Yet Jose cannot completely help but betray his own character as well, and in the last moment averts his gaze in pained unease.  He knows what he has just said applies to him.  It is the real reason behind his contempt of Lauro.  He must distance himself from the disturbingly clear reflection of a handler who abuses his cyborg out of convenience, the difference being that Lauro never tried to rationalize otherwise.

"The opposite of love is not hate...

The next day the two fratello meet in the parking lot after both halves coming to their separate disagreements last night.  Lauro informs Jose that he's sent the bulky equipment ahead, to which Jose replies scathingly:

"You're more clever than I thought."  

Lauro takes it for a compliment, blind to Jose's disguised animosity.  This is how adults play the game.


Henrietta, however, is not so subtle.  On seeing Elsa standing next to Lauro, eyes closed in silent rejection, Henrietta averts her gaze, still hurt and confused by this unkindness.  Jose is quick to notice, and surprised to see such a strong reaction since yesterday.  Henrietta keeps her face turned pointedly away for the remainder of the scene, her expression becoming less pained and more bitter with time.


In the car, Henrietta remains silent and pensive.  Seeing this, Jose offers to take her on an excursion after their job in Siena is complete, an unexplained compensation for working with Elsa.  Have to always keep her in good spirits.  Henrietta's pleasure at this news covers her face in a happy smile, large enough to be visible from the sideview mirror of Lauro's car in front.  Elsa cannot hear what is going on, but she can read the emotions, and watches the scene unfold with a critical gaze.


Inside her vehicle there is no talking or smiling.  Classic rock plays from the radio, gaudily incongruous with their mission.  It prevents silence from taking hold, for that could lead to unpleasant thoughts or conversation.  Lauro keeps his eyes on the road, his gaze never straying to Elsa even as she stares pointedly at him.  She waits for a long moment before finally forced to call to him:

Elsa: "Lauro."
Lauro: "Hmm?" (Does not turn his head)
Elsa: "I'm going to try my best on this next mission!" (Fervently earnest)
(Lauro looks at her, surprised she is saying anything, but quickly looks forward again)
Lauro: "Oh, do it right then." (Bored)

Elsa's eyes widen.  She is doing her best, letting him know how much he means to her, and yet he continues to be unresponsive.  All she wants is to help him.  His disregard is more painful than even his criticism, causing her to withdraw in pained contemplation.  What is she doing wrong that he isn't treating her like Jose treats Henrietta?


Lauro glances over, and then turns up the volume on the music to cover the awkward silence that has ensued; maybe a bit more noise will keep her from speaking again.  She was not even watching this last selfish act, her face hanging in confused contemplation, making his blithe music all the more repugnant.

...it's indifference."

The view changes rapidly to atop the tower in Siena; the blaring music of the last scene abruptly exiled to its proper place.  Lauro and Jose casually discuss the plan:

Jose: "If we kill the police chief directly in front of his office..."
Lauro: "...it'd send a big message to the rest of the provincial police."

Kill a public servant in broad daylight as an example, and leave his corpse upon the steps to warn the rest of the power of the agency.  This is modern barbarism.  The police chief is not being executed for harboring terrorists but opposing Section Two.  He was an irritant before with his activism, but threatening to do the truly right thing has drawn lethal ire.


As they talk, Elsa approaches with a Hecate sniper rifle; Lauro tells her to put it on the ground, saying he hopes it is unneeded.  There is significance to the gun's type: at this range its powerful standard ammunition is overkill.  In her vehemence Elsa is being excessive with both the number and choice of weapons.  Jose peers at her and recognizes the expression:

Jose: "Lauro.  How is Elsa today?"
Lauro: "Huh?  What do you mean by, 'How is she'?"
(In the background Elsa can already be seen taking sights)
Jose: "Nothing.  She just seems a little eager.  They often miss when they're like that."
(Lauro laughs at this last statement)
Lauro: "Elsa has never failed before.  Isn't that what the conditioning is for?  You're so good-natured it becomes the opposite."
Jose: "I see..." (Tiredly)

Lauro wasn't dismissive of her disquietude earlier: he didn't even see it.  All he felt was the inconvenience of her intrusion.  For him the question, "How is Elsa today?" does not even have meaning; it's like asking him how the car or sniper rifle is feeling about this mission.  He can safely laugh at such a proposition.


However, his last line is prophetic.  While Lauro is merely callous, Jose, with his fixation on preventing the suffering brought on by empathy, is becoming indistinguishable in his effects.  It matters not his reasons, in the end he is not teaching or taking care of Henrietta as she needs him to.  In the extreme, his acute sensitivity to his cyborg's condition paradoxically manifests as selfish apathy, causing it to be easily identified by a fellow egocentric.


And with these warnings of Elsa's ardor, Lauro's thoughtlessness, and Jose's self-absorption, Etereo stirs.  The song of the irreparable; it was heard once before with the training of Henrietta, but in this scene its full discordance will be unleashed, its implications realized.  Something terrible is approaching.


In premonition, Lauro looks curiously at Elsa.  She is hard at work, giving the mission, and him, every fiber of her being.  But she cannot help herself, turning to stare at Henrietta as Jose tries to ensure his cyborg will not fail him in this moment.  Mistaking such for care, Elsa can only see a handler talking to his girl, encouraging her.  Where is her Lauro?  Why isn't he doing the same?


The police chief's motorcade is approaching and the mission begins, but Elsa remains transfixed by the image of false consideration.  It is peeling back her rationalizations, unseating her confidence.  Lauro notices her inattention and upbraids her.  She returns to her rifle only to have him angrily point out the safety is still on, filling her with dismay.  The certainty she once had is gone, taking her focus with it.  Lauro sighs with disgust and orders Jose to replace her.


Elsa is betrayed.


She begins to plead, to beg for him to allow her to do this.  Please, all she wants is to serve him.  Etereo grows louder, approaching its climax, the notes tumbling over each other, falling into disarray.  This can't be happening.  Why is Lauro dismissing her?  Why didn't he give her another chance?  She never failed him before.  She was right there, he saw her.  Didn't he?  He couldn't order this unless...


Henrietta watches in concern as Jose leaves her, then hardens toward Elsa in vindication, taking a grim pleasure from seeing the other girl fall.  Elsa does not move from her post and Jose is forced to gently shove her out of the way.  Seeing him there surprises her, and she hardly resists as she is removed, completely disoriented by the events.  He apologizes tiredly, always exhausted doing what is convenient:

"I'm sorry, Elsa."

There is no excuse.  He recognized Henrietta in Elsa; he knows what this means to her, what being dismissed does to these girls.  This is everything she is being pushed aside, and all he can offer is a pathetic apology in acknowledgement of its cost to her.

But she is no longer paying attention.  She stands helpless knowing that Lauro discarded her.  She wasn't good enough.  But this was her best, wasn't it?  He knew it was her best, she told him.  She showed him.  This can't be.  Unless...


An unreal trill runs through the music as the chief ascends the steps. The camera pans up the weapon Henrietta is holding to her face, tracing this unholy connection between muzzle tip and child.  It is a terrible thing, for staring down the scope of a sniper rifle is a special vantage point.  This is not a wanton bullet into an unknown man or a frantic melee of self-defense.  It is a calm, premeditated slaying where the target can be seen as another human being.


The bullets land, but Henrietta does not know to feel horror as the man's body jerks to the ground and his skull is pulverized.  All that Jose gives her, the dances of presents and attention, it comes to this.  This is the product of her training; this is what they have done to her.  Even as panic spreads below she calmly removes her eye from the scope to check the kill, just as she was lovingly taught.  In the background, Lauro can be heard exulting:

"Alright!  Good work!"

With the mission completed Lauro orders a retreat, but Elsa does not hear him.  She is in shock, staring at the rifles as she crumbles inside.  She gave him everything; her time, her comfort, her happiness... her love.  He wouldn't do this, unless...

"Tch.  Useless."

Lauro again.  Elsa has stopped working, and has caused him this embarrassment of relying on Jose.  Henrietta turns to stare sadly as she evacuates.  Any anger she had is extinguished seeing Elsa in ruins.  She begins to understand Triela's lesson: Elsa was always a person like her, and nobody deserves this.  Her face creases in pained empathy, knowing better than anybody what is happening in the other girl's heart.


Elsa still does not move, face frozen in anguish.  She draws a quiet, ragged, sobbing breath as she succumbs to Etereo's final notes.  Her Lauro would never do this to her unless... unless...


...unless he doesn't love her.

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