Chapter 10

Housecalls and Stand-offs

June 2nd, Shujin Academy, Student Council Room

"So this is part of one big plan, you say?" Yoshida asked.

"Sorta. It depends on whether she catches on or not," Sojiro replied, "But I have full faith she will, so it should be okay."

"That doesn't excuse the fact she's missing school-time." Kawakami glared at Sojiro, who returned the gaze, unshaken.

"It more than does, it's for both her own good and mine. At the end of the day, she's smart enough to go anywhere she wants in life, exams and education or not, and I can say the main reason Futaba attends Shujin is to make sure she has life experience."

"Look, just don't send your own daughter to investigate the dead next time, hm?" Tae suggested.

"Back to the topic at hand everyone. We're gonna need to exchange contact information to keep in touch." Yoshida suggested, which caused more then a few eyebrows to raise.

"You got a death wish or something? Pretty sure doing that'd just make the police catch our asses quicker." Iwai grumbled, pulling the brim of his cap down over his eyes, causing his word to somehow hold more power. The room was silent for a while.

"You're implying they'll catch us to begin with." Makoto rebutted.

"You're implying they won't?" Iwai stretched out an accusatory finger.

"As it stands, the only person's contact information we can't use is Futaba's – she's monitored every Friday, remember? She gets scanned every Friday. Apart from that, if we're careful enough there's no way we'll ever get caught, surely." Haru pulled out her phone, handed it to Yoshida and nodded.

"Yes, caution must be exercised when we're doing this. But if we don't the alternative is for Ren to never return here again and for our monitoring to continue indefinitely."

"Wouldn't the cops just get bored or something…?" Ryuji sulked. "There's no way I'll be monitored forever…"

"Well would you rather be monitored for a few years or months? The decision is yours." Chihaya scolded Ryuji and she, as well as a handful of others, slid their phones down the table to Yoshida, who returned them upon transferring contact information of the others. Eventually, the whole room ceded to these demands – even Iwai, though he begrudgingly handed his in last – and had linked contacts.

"Well that was all I wished to discuss. We can more talk later over messaging. Meeting adjourned!"

June 2nd, 7 p.m., Kyoto, Ren's Hometown

Ren stepped out onto the street. The sun had only just began to set and half of its corona was visible from where he was standing. It turned the lenses of his glasses a sickly shade of orange and he was forced to hold one hand out in front of him to block the beams from blinding him too much. The light it gave off seemed to be dying, as it mustered barely enough energy to shimmer and dance between the branches and leaves, its dirty golden beams just strong enough to send the shadows of man and nature traipsing and pirouetting around the grey tiles of the ground. Though it cast the surrounding area, with all its houses and people, in a rather dapper light, there was something so unnatural about it, something so detached and inhuman about the streaks it sent past every moving object. It set the sky and its clouds, now rough and jagged rather than light and fluffy looking, in the wrong shade of crimson – though what the right shade was may as well have been lost to time, for it seemed it had never truly hung in the sky for months now. Ren felt like he was walking through a morgue rather than a simple small town, an odd feeling – more like a fleeting memory – ignited within him, as if any moment now the moon could hang in the sky a pale green and the world would be bathed in a macabre scene indeed, though he could not understand where that idea formed from. All on the walk to Inoi's clinic, he felt numb and listless, as did Morgana, who seemed too tired to even make a quip or disparaging comment. Every person they passed almost seemed faceless, caught up in the same throes of monotony as themselves, walking on what seemed a set route, like mindless drones. When Ren finally arrived at the clinic around half seven, he felt as if that journey had ripped away a chunk of his humanity.

7:30 p.m., Inoi Psychological Clinic

Masaru adjusted his gloves, feeling them a tad too tight on his fingers. He threw on his trench-coat – beige in tone – in an orderly manner and buttoned it up in an equally organized fashion. He wriggled his fingers to get a feel for the outfit and – satisfied with his appearance – walked out of his examination room and into the lift situated just next to his office. In just a few short months his humble clinic had grown into a large, modern building. The one-man operation was now a fully-staffed operation one-hundred men and women strong. Natural light flooded into every ornately decorated office room and hallway, all with a mix of traditional wooden panelling and flooring, to modern tiling and metalwork covering them, blending seamlessly. Inoi's office itself was filled with books for both he and his patients from hexagonal bookshelves that lined the walls. Everything was done in a mixture of greys and blacks, from the door to the room being a very rustic grey, to the wooden desk and every other object that accented the room – from bookshelves to filing cabinets, window-frames to seats – being black and every other object being grey, including the ceramic plant pots that held the only splashes of colour in the room – long, leafy plants of a dark green shade. He had never actually seen the insides of his co-workers offices, he could not care much for the people inhabiting those rooms, as well as the rooms themselves, unless they had something to report to him.

Pressing the lift button, his eyes – as they did at the end of every shift – turned their gaze to the button that read B1. The floor on he was allowed access to and only his receptionist/best friend Kichirou Saito knew of. That was where his search for the perfect mind continued, the only biohazard to the quiet and idyllic life he desired and had strived for. He wondered how long some of the people he had taken in were kept there for. A year? Perhaps more? And as his thought this, the grey whirlpools that were his eyes intensified and began to spin again. It was a pain to continue to report to those desperate families – especially those who had children whose minds were irreparable. Their desperation, however, kept them in check, even if they were a great disturbance to his peace when they decided to rear their heads again. Inoi quickly pressed the button to the entrance and began to descend. His heart-rate had increased thinking about such trivial disturbances and he muttered to himself, "Calm yourself, Masaru. Once you have reached your goal, peace is guaranteed."

Masaru exited the lift and walked down the hallway to the exit, bathing in the warmth of the sun that touched his bare face. Opening the large double-doors to the reception, which was bathed in that same glorious and beautiful sunlight from the skylight above it, he saw Saito at the large, semi-circular white desk that sat at the very front of his clinic and another figure that caused his heart to jump into his throat. "You have a visitor, sir." Saito said in a grave voice.

"Masaru Inoi." Ren greeted, though there was definite hostility in his voice. Masaru looked into his eyes and saw his own reflected within them. The same malevolent intelligence burned within them, the same exact deathly grey-black colour swirled and danced around in the irises and Masaru knew that when he was excited – in any sense of the word – they would spring to life and spark with glory and electricity. Masaru returned the cold greeting. "Ren Amamiya." The temperature in the room seemed to lower a few degrees and the two's shoulders hunched up in unison, tense.

"You already know my name?"

"Perhaps it is none of my business, but I take great pride in my holistic background checks into my patients. Truth be told, I'm rather proud of the whole process, for it gives me a far greater understanding into the mind of my patients. However," Masaru tilted his head upwards, to a slant, and moved his now stormy eyes looked down at Ren, who was a few inches shorter than he, pointing a gloved finger at the boy, "There is something that altogether confuses me about yourself."

"And what might that be?" Ren's gaze hardened into a sneer, seeing how dismissive Masaru was treating him.

"Why would my new patient choose someone like you?"

"Hmm? Pray tell, what do you mean by that?" Ren questioned, mirroring Masaru's own head-tilt. Saito looked on, utterly confused. He had never known his friend to be so openly antagonistic towards another person before, nor had he ever seen such antagonism be returned with gusto. "What I mean is, why would someone so… unique as Futaba Sakura choose to be involved with the likes of someone like you. Though, again, it is not my business to pry, there is more than enough evidence to suggest what your… shall we call it a side job? was. Yes, why would an innocent girl get involved with the likes of that?"
"Hmph. Simply put, she owes a lot to me. There is not much more to it than that. I enjoy the time I spend with her and her with me and, though a man of logic like yourself may find such a concept like that alien, it is what people who have known more than corruption in their lives call 'love', Mr. Inoi."

"Ah, corruption you say? May you be referring to my stint with Shido? What I did there was within the law and I did not know of Shido's more dark plans and the pawns he used to achieve such means, one of which, it is spoken on the wind you and your motley crew – whom, alas, I do not know contained, minus you, of course – were rather well acquainted with. I was merely a piece used for mere advisory means and had I understood what was going on to begin with, I am proud of saying I would've cut ties with the man."

"That is like if I were to say that I if I knew the extent of a man like Ted Bundy's crimes I would denounce him. Hardly brave, is it?"
"True as that may be, the fact still stands I was unaware of his corruption and am not corrupt myself. If you are only here to argue with me and continue to disturb me, I will have to request you leave these premises, Mr. Amamiya."

"I was planning on doing so to begin with, Mr Inoi. Though before I do so, may I ask what you are treating Futaba for?"

"As her father described it, an affliction very similar to one of my patients, Kira. A sudden relapse into being shut-in, listless and depressed – that I can help, and that I shall help. Now, good day to you Mr. Amamiya. I shall be late home thanks to you and cannot verbally express my regret that is happening."

"Why? You don't strike me as a man who has someone to go home to."

"I don't. I only have myself…" Masaru strode out of the room as he spoke, "…and my peace."

Ren waited in silence with Saito until he had strode out of sight.

Walking back outside to the now nearly dark sky, Ren sat on a wall and lay down his bag next to him. "Wow, Joker. That was smooth! When did you ever become that verbose?"
Ren scratched behind his neck and smirked. "Ah, it was nothing really. But I wasn't gonna let that guy get away with acting all high-and-mighty, so I just decided to rip into him. Anyway…" Ren brought out his phone.

"Ah! So you've made up your mind I see. Let's see if that guy has a Palace." Ren tapped the Metaverse navigator app and watched as it booted up. "Masaru Inoi." He spoke. A great wave of distortion thumped against his skull, throwing him slightly. He saw purple for a brief moment and then the world returned to normal. Ren was overtaken by a sense of inexorable joy. Here, he could begin to reclaim his place in the universe. He could finally run free like a bird, unbound by the chains the police had unjustly put on him. He only needed a location and keyword. "Okay. Inoi Psychological Clinic." He spoke in a more energetic voice. Once again, that same nauseating wave of distortion pounded inside his head.

"Man, I forgot how sickening that was." Morgana grimaced. "Anyway, onto the keyword."

"Hmm… temple."

"No match found." The MetaNav spoke.

"How about mansion?" Morgana suggested. The MetaNav repeated itself.

"…Castle?" Same result.

"What about what we read about those patients? Maybe it's a prison?" No luck.

"Gold mine? Diamond mine?" Still no result.

"I'm thinking it depends on what he sees the patients and building as, maybe?" Morgana said.

"Laboratory?" And so, the names continued and continued, until the two were all out of ideas.

"Ugh, this isn't working. Maybe we should get some sleep and come back tomorrow." Morgana looked up at Ren, who had no choice but to agree.

"Yeah. We can't just brute force this, huh?" Ren put the phone down and sighed at the now dark night sky. He really wanted to go to the Palace, more than Morgana could understand, but he couldn't just sit here all night long trying in vain to get there.

"Come on," Ren said, hopping off the wall. "Let's head back to the hotel." Ren's vision began to warp all of a sudden, as the MetaNav spoke:

"Match found. Beginning navigation."