Free Gene Mapper by Taiyo Fujii

flaps front and back over pants of the same material. The sunlight glowed through the loose cuffs of her sleeves and the fabric of her pants, gently suggesting the outlines of her body. Whenever the door slid open, a puff of air stirred the flaps of her tunic, which reached almost to the floor. Her long limbs and petite head were a contrast with the women around her. She stood with her weight on her right leg, upper body turned slightly like a model. The pose reminded me of an avatar.
    “I think that’s her.” Kurokawa pointed. Now I saw that the board she was holding had our names in ink-brushed characters. It was upside down, which was why I hadn’t noticed it before.
    “Excuse me, are you Miss Nguyen?”
    She turned and stared. After a beat, her face blossomed into a smile.
    “Sure, I’m Nguyen. Assistant of Yagodo-san. You are Hayashida-san and Kurokawa-san, right? Welcome Ho Chi Minh City!” She slipped the board under her arm, held it against her slender torso, and stood at attention to welcome us, head slightly cocked. I liked the rhythm of her English and her ever-changing expression.
    “Nice to meet you,” I said in English. “Um, your board is upside down.”
    “Really? I apology to rotate your name. I’m not familiar for Japanese.” She snatched the board from under her arm, hurriedly turned it the right way, and held it out to show us. “Is it okay? I’m so sorry.”
    Kurokawa smiled and shook his head. “Ok-kay, u-ee doan u-orry bauts. Dikkimura u-raitto itsu?”
    “Yes, Yagodo-san write this.”
    I couldn’t believe it. She understood him. Is this how he spoke English outside augmented reality? At least they were communicating. I just wasn’t sure how.
    The pleasing rhythm of Nguyen’s English totally belied the impression of coldness she’d given when I first noticed her. If she was going to be around the office, this visit—business trip—was shaping up to be more fun than I’d expected.
    Kurokawa nudged me in the hip.
    “What?”
    “Oh … nothing. I’ll tell you later.” He pointed to his glasses.
    “We’ll go to your hotel by taxi. Are those all your baggages? Okay, follow m—”
    Nguyen spun around, spinning the flaps of her tunic in opposite directions, and thrust an index finger toward the automatic door, but it didn’t open fast enough. She jammed her finger against the glass.
    “Đau!
    Charming, but a bit ditzy.
    *   *   *
    We hit the traffic jam as soon as we got onto the main artery heading downtown, after the soccer stadium. The four-lane road was a sea of immobilized electric vehicles with just enough space for electric motorbikes with two (or three) riders and throngs of jaywalkers to weave between. Children pinned flyers behind windshield wipers. Beggars followed, plucking the ads off and wiping down the windshields before motioning for tips. There were a lot of missing limbs and people on crutches. Nguyen dismissed them all with a wave from the front seat, but everyone was smiling, no one seemed stressed out. It made the whole scene easier to take.
    Kurokawa and I sat in the back. I felt cramped, but Kurokawa had plenty of space to cross his legs. He leaned toward me and smiled. “Don’t you envy me? I’m always in business class.”
    I got the joke, but it was hard to think of a response. I wondered how my avatar would’ve handled it in augmented reality.
    Kurokawa chuckled at my dilemma and pressed his palms against his cheeks. “Don’t feel uncomfortable. There’s nothing I can do about it. In AR, I can put myself across as normal size, so it’s not that inconvenient.”
    Maybe his tiny size was why he used RealVu. No, it would make even more sense for him to use an avatar. It’s easier to relax around people when Behavior Correction has your back.
    “While we’re on this trip, I might have to ask you to help me reach things now and then. I hope you won’t mind. Oh, and also—”
    Kurokawa pointed a finger toward Nguyen’s back and made