"I want us to come to an understanding."
Misaki stares at the masked man before her, gun gripped tightly in her hands. She has finally reached him, after all those years of chasing after his star. Even though his hair is much longer now, she could still recognize his silhouette. BK201, no, Li Shunsheng.
He doesn't make a movement to leave. Maybe it's finally her chance to ask him about everything that's been bothering her ever since the Tokyo Explosion and his sudden disappearance. She needed answers.
"Why did you do it?" she asked him. "You had your chance to wipe out humanity and ensure the uncontested survival of Contractors and no longer be on the run from the police. Why didn't you take that chance? And why, why did you go with me to the batting range that night?"
She watches him slowly reach up and remove his mask. Li, she wants to call out, but she stops herself. His face is too serious, too tired and worn than her memories of that man with the carefree smile. Sparse stubble covers his chin and gathers around his frown. This figure before her was not Li, and she wonders how she could have been so easily fooled.
"Li," she pauses, "no, that's not right, is it? To be honest, I don't know what to call you anymore."
He still doesn't answer but maintains eye contact with her. He looks just as lost as she feels.
Misaki puts away her gun, "What are you doing back in Tokyo anyway? If I didn't find you first, you'd be surrounded by agents by now."
"Why are you alone?" he asks.
"I told you, I just want to understand what happened. In the Gate. To you. You were alone when you left, but there were other people at the core with you when it happened."
"They're gone now," he says bluntly.
"Like your sister, right?"
His expression changes for a moment, then reverts back to his cold stare.
"What brought you back to Tokyo?" she asks again.
"I still have business here."
"What business?"
He smiles but his expression doesn't give anything away. "I don't dislike this city," he says, the old words conveying more than any explanation he could give her.
She understands immediately. He had missed this place as much as she missed chasing after him. If only they could go back to the way things were, before the Syndicate and the Jupiter Ring and the American agencies fighting for power. Before their worlds became more complicated beyond simple cop versus criminal, human versus Contractor. It was an easier system to understand back then. But now the lines are blurred, the water is spilled, the cup is shattered.
"What happened to all of us?" she asks out loud, looking up at the night sky.
Somehow the stars still manage to penetrate the city's orange aura, shining brighter than before. She wonders if there was ever a chance for the old stars to bleed through, to join their counterfeits and cover the night sky with patterns more intricate and beautiful than the old sky. If one day, children could trace new constellations and tell new legends of the stars, both young and old, human and Contractor.
"What happened to us?" she asks again.
"A new future," came his reply.
When she looks back down at him, he is already gone.