(It is worthy of note beforehand that this is a sequel to my previous story Case 463 and it would be best for that to be read before getting involved in this story)
Time Until Incident:
1 year: 10 months: 6 days: 11 hours: 47 minutes
Time until Déchaîner
3 years: 1 month: 0 days: 0 hours: 18 minutes:
The polished brass of the door handle felt cool as she wrapped her slender fingers around it and gripped it tightly in her hand; and yet she found it hard to find the strength to push the door open and begin her evening with the empty headed and short sighted fools on the other side of the poorly painted blue door with which the handle was attached. She thought if she gripped it a little tighter that the strength of her hand would spur forth the rest of her body; but she just stood there, gripping the handle tightly in her fingers. The tight squeeze was causing her arm to hurt and the lock up of the muscles traveled to her jaw where she clenched her teeth tightly. She took a deep breath through those teeth and slowly pried her hand off the knob, clenching and unclenching her fingers a few times to stop the pain.
She stared down at the knob for a little longer than she should have and found her thoughts wondering. The folders under her other arm felt heavier all of a sudden and she let the arm that carried them relax at her hip rather than her side. She sighed and closed her eyes as she tried to relax, her free hand coming to rub at her eyes. She hadn't slept last night because of this. All that had been on her mind was talking to these dullards. And now that she was here, she couldn't find the strength to take the first step.
Taking a step back from the door, she ignored the sound of her black heels on the shiny tile flooring and just focused on gathering up her strength as she began to pace outside of it. She was glad no one was around to see her like this. She was glad she had kept her underlings away from this meeting. If any of them saw her like this, it was possible the years of attempting to keep up a strong image would be shattered in the blink of an eye. She couldn't have that.
She was going to be late. She couldn't have that either.
Taking another few laps back and forth in front of the door, she once again gripped the doorknob and tried to turn it. She still lacked the strength. Or perhaps it was conviction. It had taken months to get this far and now she was miles away from where she needed to be which was simply on the other side of the door. She closed her eyes.
Then came a feeling as a strong slender arm wrapped around her stomach and the being pressed itself behind her and into her back. She wasn't sure if the feeling was a memory or just a forever absent fondness. Slowly her eyes opened and she stared down at the knob in her hand. She felt his hand over hers, gripping her fingers tightly; not out of strength, but support. She nodded her head.
"Give me strength…"
With a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open and stepped onto the blue rug beneath her heels, walking calmly towards the podium at the end of it. All signs of weakness gone, all hesitation left her walk and body language. Her fear and nervousness was left at the door. She was back.
The room was vacant save for a few all too familiar faces. Three men and one woman sat at a large curved desk at the end of the room. The large room was vacant save for the few people who she had expected. Out of all the nearly one-hundred members and faces this room held on a daily basis, the ones in front of her were the only ones that mattered to her or anyone else wanting something done; or in her case, just wanting something.
The speaker, an older man with short black hair and a birthmark on his right cheek, spoke through the microphone that had been placed in front of him.
"Miss Mitsuru Kirijo, please step forward"
She took her long white fur coat off and placed it across one of the chairs after placing her folders on her little podium stand. Her dark eyes scanned the members of the little gathering, sizing them up. Poor things did not understand that they were about to make history. She stepped up to the podium and spread apart the three folders she brought across the little platform, taking a moment to appreciate the little bottle of spring water they had left for her. She suppressed the smile and looked up to the group, folding her hands on the stand after adjusting her microphone.
"Director Kirijo, if you don't mind"
The woman of the group, at least in her eighties looked over her glasses at Mitsuru
"I beg your pardon?"
Mitsuru leaned in closer to the microphone.
"Director Kirijo, if you don't mind. I worked very hard for that title and I intend to flaunt it"
The woman stared at her for a moment before making something down on her paper. Whatever it was, Mitsuru knew two things. First, it wasn't nice; and second, she didn't care. This woman was going to be the problem in this conversation.
The man with the birthmark spoke into the microphone again.
"Director Kirijo, I cannot imagine how many favors you had to call in or how many phone calls you had to make in order to set this meeting up. I am certain a lot of effort went into whatever plan you have come up with requiring myself and my fellow representatives. So why don't we speak like adults and get to the point, shall we?"
Mitsuru bowed her head slightly and opened one of her folders, drawing out four sets of three sheets of paper. She approached the bench and handed each of the members one of the sets before returning to the podium, awaiting the oncoming assault. One of the delegates, a fat middle-aged man with assumedly dangerously high blood pressure due to his red skin, pulled the glasses off his face to look at the director. She took a drink of water.
"Director Kirijo, I am almost certain I am reading this incorrectly"
She shook her head.
"And I, representative, am almost certain you are"
The final man of the group, a younger man with black hair and an ear ring let the pages drop onto the desk, leaning into the microphone
"I don't understand, Director. Why are you even here?"
He picked up the pages
"Are you expecting us to sign off on this?"
She nodded her head slowly
The woman, who was still looking at the report, spoke absent-mindedly as she continued to read. Her words caused the fat man and the young man with the ear ring to look across the desk at her
"And how many would you be needing for this project to get off the ground, Director?"
Perhaps she had been wrong about the woman and the problems she would be facing from her.
"No more than seven members, mam"
"Those being?"
The woman flipped to the last page as Mitsuru opened the second folder, taking another four sets of three pages out, handing them to the delegates once again before returning to her podium.
"Two muscle, one thief, two hand to hand experts, one sharp shooter, and one to lead them"
The young man spoke
"And where do you plan to get these people?"
"Page two of the second set of papers explains our potential targets and where they can be found as well as how we intend to bring them into our proposed project."
There was a quiet shuffling of papers as they searched through the second set of documents. The young man tossed them away from him after reading the proposal
"I respectfully refuse, director"
She knew at least one of them would and looked to the fat man as he wiped his brow with a red handkerchief he pulled from his jacket pocket.
"Under normal circumstances, Director Kirijo, I would be only too happy to pass any proposal you brought forth. But I am afraid I must agree with my colleague here when I say that I cannot allow such a project to be funded"
Two of four had decided where their loyalties were and denied her. She wondered what the two older delegates would decide. The older man set the pages down after a moment and removed his reading glasses, chewing on the edge of them out of habit when he was thinking. The woman on the other hand kept going back and forth between the two sets of documents, cross referencing the wording of the paragraphs to put together the plan in her head. She sighed after a moment and set the paperwork down, stacking the sets of documentation before propping her head up on her hands. The man spoke to her
"What do you think, Margret?"
The woman was quiet for a moment before looking back down at the paperwork again, opening the first page
"We have started a lot of fights, Jerald. So many lives lost, so many people without jobs, so many left in abject poverty. But it was always for the greater good. A few always have to suffer for the greater good of the people…"
She looked up to Mitsuru
"How many are we looking to save should the project be successful, Director?"
Mitsuru smiled slightly to the woman. She understood.
"If the project goes forward as described in the second set of documentation, no lives should be lost so long as it is running. It will take a few years for the project to become operational what with the building of facilities and necessary manpower. There is also the consideration of only certain trusted individuals being at the forefront of the project. It will take time to weed out those trusted individuals from the ranks at the organization and our partners.
This is, after all, dangerous territory and it will take some time and possibly a few lives in order to get a foothold. But once that foothold is obtained, construction can begin and the project's second phase will take off from there. Once the projects key members are together, phase three will be initialized and, as long as it is kept running, there should be no lives lost from then on should everything go according to our data"
The woman stared off into space on her desk as Mitsuru spoke. It was at least two or three minutes before anyone responded. The woman was first.
"I am voting to back the project so long as you can guarantee results."
The man took a moment to gather himself, but responded quietly with a nod
"I too will back the project, Director. We cannot, after all, always make the easy decisions when it comes to human lives. I may not like it, but sacrifices must be made sometimes. I too vote yay"
The young man was in shock for a moment before leaning into the microphone
"You can't be serious! These are human lives you are dealing with. They aren't even soldiers and you are just going to let this…pompous wretch, sway your judgment with some silly plans out of the twilight zone?"
As the man turned back to look at the director, he ducked as an object flew past his head and smacked against the wall. The water bottle. As he turned back to face her, her strong hands reached over the edge of the large desk and grabbed him by the trim of his jacket, pulling him over the desk and onto the floor.
He was winded when he hit the ground, the impact on the carpet forcing all the air in his lungs to disappear. The man drew his legs to his stomach as he crossed his hands over his chest. He couldn't breathe and coughed several times after a large gulp of air. Mitsuru made her way back to the podium and grabbed the third folder she had brought.
The man backed up against the desk as she approached; afraid she was going to stomp on him to hit him again. She was much tougher than she looked. The older woman and the older man stayed seated. The fat man didn't want to move.
Mitsuru opened the folder and began to toss photos at the man as she read off their names. Each face, each name, represented a murder than had taken place in the last four years. Each picture displayed a body hanging from a street lamp or telephone pole, satellite dish or television antenna. Bodies wrapped in electrical wire that had been burned due to contact and had melted under the effects of the energy and fire. Men, women, and children.
"Graveyards full of people!"
Mitsuru screamed at him, the man cowering.
"All murdered by someone with a simple unique ability and deciding to flaunt it and take advantage of it. All of them having families who cared for them! Blood has been spilt!"
She tossed the remainder of the folder down at the man who still had his arms up to protect his face and head, drawn up like a child being abused. It was a shame she enjoyed it. Maybe it was because of the way he had spoken to her. Maybe it was his attitude. She walked back to her podium after staring the fat man back down into his seat who had risen to tend to his fellow delegate.
"People are dying because of this. My project makes it so that this kind of thing never happens again; to ensure that these sorts of mass murders never take place again. Don't you think I understand the question of morality in this? Don't you think I understand what I will look like in the eyes of the public if they ever learn? I will go down in history as a monster!"
Mitsuru took a moment to gather herself and straightened her hair. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regretting she had thrown the water bottle now.
"I can fund this project on my own. I don't need anyone's help with the question of the budget. However, I do need permission for such a project to exist. That is the only reason I came here today was to get permission. I ask for funds from you because at least then you too have your hands dirty. And, in the long run, you will have a piece to control albeit small."
She folded up the two remaining folders on her podium and stacked them neatly.
"I lost something very important to me due to my work; someone very dear. I know what it feels like to have no one to blame but knowing the force that did it; which is more than I can say for the families of the souls that were taken. The projects' purpose is to save lives and I am going to do it with or without the full cooperation of this council."
There was silence in the room as the storm passed, her eyes crossing over the faces of the four individuals at the desk. The older woman cleared her throat
"All in favor?"
She and the older man raised their hand in the air. After a moment, the fat man raised his hoof as well. Mitsuru looked to the man on the floor and stared him down to look again at the pictures on the floor. Surrounded by death, the man raised his hand slowly.
"The proposal is unanimously adopted. Congratulations, Director Kirijo. We look forward to hearing your reports."
Mitsuru bowed her head slightly and put her long white coat back on before picking up her folders.
"I appreciate the cooperation of this council and will report the moment some sort of movement is made worthy of note. Until next time, councilors"
The older man spoke.
"And have a good trip home, Director Kirijo"
With a slight increase in speed to her step, Mitsuru made her way back up the carpeted walkway to the door and pushed it open, her heels once again clacking on the tile as she made her way to the door. But once she heard the door close behind her, she broke into a run for the front door as her mouth began to salivate. The adrenaline was wearing off and she barely made it outside before she leaned over a flowerbed in the garden and vomited, careful not to get any on her shoes or her coat. She pulled her hair back with her free hand before she did it again, spitting against the flowers as she shuddered.
Time Until Incident:
1 year: 10 months: 6 days: 10 hours: 32 minutes
Time until Déchaîner
3 years: 0 months: 31 days: 23 hours: 3 minutes: