Cyan wiped a single bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, and hunched over the desk again. After finishing with her after school training, and Instructor Jared had left for the day, she had made her way to the workshop. When she had first started, she harbored some serious doubts that she would ever see her project completed, but after picking up her order from the Dust shop last week she felt strangely inspired somehow. She attributed it to the small measure of victory she'd found in finally creating a satisfactory compound, and had come here every day since to finally begin the real work. The first step was sculpting the molds out of a mixture of sand and clay, and setting them out for a week to dry, then firing them in a kiln to harden them. The next step required the use of a forge to pour liquified scrap metal into her desired components, then, with the help of an actual weaponsmith, ensure they were properly shaped and tempered. The assembly would have to come later, since there were a number of parts that she would need to weld together, and, as with the forging, the faculty was understandably leery of allowing the students to attempt that step unsupervised.
The other reason for putting that step off for later was that she also needed a control unit to facilitate the weapon's transformations. This proved to be the most challenging part of the project, given her energy needs. After several days of research, she happened across one of the Schnee Dust Company's latest designs for a Multi-Action Dust Rapier, and decided to use its servomotor as a baseline… with some modifications of her own, of course. It required her to draw up her own circuit board, and then solder it by hand. Compared to the rest of the process, it wasn't difficult work, but it was slow and tedious, requiring a great deal of precision and concentration. She took a steadying breath, and touched the tip of the iron to the to the component wire again, drawing a careful measure of liquid metal onto the board. When she was finished, she finally exhaled and set her tools down on the desk, then she picked up another small device with with a two-pronged metal lead attached by a cable. She flipped a switch on the on the device and touched the lead to a diode on the circuit board, running a current through it. One by one the various LED's flickered to life, and the needle on the reader jumped into the optimal range. Cyan grinned in triumph, and turned to face Vermilion, who had been approaching behind her. From his expression, he clearly expected to take her by surprise again, but after only a week of her additional training she had started to become much more in tune with her surroundings.
"You seem pleased with yourself." Vermilion observed.
Cyan invited him closer to the table, and displayed the results of the volt/ohm meter test for him, "It works."
Vermilion watched the device, then shook his head in amazement, "It's hard to believe how far along you've come."
"Aw, you mean you doubted me?" Cyan teased, "I'm hurt."
He laughed, and playfully tussled her hair. She reached up and swatted at his hand, but he pulled it away before she could make contact. She then hastily straightened the mess he had caused.
"I just came by to see if you were ready to head home. It's almost dinner time." he said.
Cyan cast a longing look down at the table, "There's still a little more I could do. Besides, I'm not even—"
A long, loud rumbling suddenly erupted from the pit of her stomach. Vermilion inclined his head to the side and blinked at her. Cyan felt herself blush all the way to the roots of her hair.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he said, "I didn't quite catch that."
She gently patted a hand at her stomach, then shot another glare towards her brother and said, "Hush, no one's talking to you.", and then pushed her stool back from the work station.
They raced home just in time to see Roan putting the finishing touches on the table setting. The two of them quietly slipped into the dining room, hoping to avoid being noticed. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work, but not for the reason Cyan thought.
"Well it's about time!" Mrs. Zee snapped over her shoulder, "Where—"
She stopped when she turned around, and the look on her face told Cyan that she was expecting someone else.
"Oh! I'm sorry, dear." she said, and turned back to the stove, "Have you seen Lyohniy? He was supposed to be home hours ago."
Vermilion shook his head, "Not since lunch."
"I've been in the lab since classes let out." Cyan said.
Mrs. Zee sighed, "Have a seat, it's almost ready."
The two of them took a seat across from Roan as Mrs. Zee brought in a large steaming pot of something that smelled wonderful.
"Roan, what have I told you about working at the dinner table?" she scolded.
His ear twitched, and he glanced up at her with a guilty expression on his face, "I'm sorry."
It was only then that Cyan noticed he had a pen in his left hand, and had been writing on something in his lap. He slipped a piece of paper between his hands and began to fold it in half.
"What's that?" Cyan asked.
Roan glanced at it briefly, "Oh, it's nothing. I was just making a few notes. For my graduation project."
Cyan's eyes lit up, and she was at once overwhelmed by curiosity, "Can I see it?"
Roan handed her the folded paper. She studied the illustration closely, but became puzzled by some of the notes he had written around the margins.
"You're altering the firing mechanism." she said, "It's only going to be useful for recoil boosts. Small ones, at that."
He nodded at her, "That's correct."
She passed the paper to Vermilion when he inquired after it, then said, "But you won't have any ranged capability at all. What if you can't reach your target?"
Roan lifted both of his eyebrows and gave her a blank stare as his reply. It didn't take long for her to realize what she had just said.
"Alright, fine." she said with a roll of her eyes, "But what if you don't want to reach your target?"
He looked down at the table in thought when he realized he didn't have an answer.
"She makes a fair point." Vermilion said with a knowing grin, "Like, say, for instance, when it could cost you an arm?"
Roan seemed taken aback, "I was only trying to fulfill my part of the plan, as you instructed."
"I said to get the magazine in its mouth, not shove it down its throat." Cyan said indignantly.
"I wanted to be certain."
Vermilion continued chuckling and shaking his head.
"You know what?" she said, making a gesture as if to physically push the topic away, "Never mind. I have another idea. How good is your throwing arm?"
The other two looked at her curiously, but before she had a chance to explain the front door flew open, and someone jogged inside, panting heavily from exhaustion.
Mrs. Zee placed one hand on her hip and regarded him with irritation, "Well look who finally decided to come home! Where have you been? And what are all those bruises?"
Cyan looked up in surprise and peered closely at Lyohniy as he moved to sit across from her at the table. He had a tiny gash on his chin, and his face was pocketed by a number of large, fresh-looking, welts. He touched a hand to them, and then rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, Mom. I stayed after with Instructor Jared. Guess I got a little careless. It's not as bad as it looks."
Mrs. Zee studied him carefully, then shook her head and turned back around to the counter next to the stove, "Next time, call me and let me know where you are."
"I will." he said quickly, then spooned a generous helping of the stew out into a bowl in front of him.
Cyan continued to stare at him, then leaned over the table and whispered low enough so that Mrs. Zee wouldn't hear, "No you weren't."
Lyohniy flicked his eyes rapidly between her and the kitchen, "Weren't what?"
"I was working with Instructor Jared." she said, narrowing her eyes.
He stifled a laugh, "You? Yeah, right."
"Believe it." Vermilion said, sounding as surprised as Lyohniy, "Ever since last Monday."
"And I didn't see you." she said.
"And I didn't see you." he said back, returning her critical stare with one of his own, "So I guess I found him after you left."
"I don't think so." Cyan retorted, lowering her voice even more, "He went home as soon as we were done."
Vermilion nodded, "I walked with him to his car before I went back in to meet her."
"So what were you really doing?" Cyan demanded again.
Lyohniy pressed his mouth closed, as if to bite back his words, "Minding my own business. Why don't you try it some time?"
Cyan's mouth gaped in shock. In all the years she had known him, he had never once snapped at her like that. He sat back in his chair, and refused to look at her for the rest of the meal. The expression on Vermilion's face told her that he had noticed it as well, however Mrs. Zee picked that moment to join them from the kitchen. He and Roan both made an effort to fill in the evening with polite conversation, something for which Cyan was exceedingly grateful. What could possibly have been on his mind, and why he didn't want to talk about it? She continued to dwell on his words for the remainder of the night, and well into the next day at school. Lyohniy said nothing to her the next morning as well. As much as she wanted to confront him about it, her instincts told her not to. It wasn't until after lunch, when she shared a class with Vermilion, that he finally was able to speak with her about it. He slid his chair next to hers at a table towards the back of the room. Given that the rest of the student body typically gave her a wide berth, it allowed them to speak without interruption.
"Hey," he said, keeping an eye on the instructor to make certain she didn't overhear, "You okay?"
Cyan shook her head, and continued to stare forward, pretending to pay attention to the lecture.
"You still thinking about Lyoh?"
She nodded.
Vermilion exhaled, "So am I. What do you think is going on with him?"
"I have no idea." she said quietly.
Actually, that wasn't true. At the very least she had a theory, based on her encounter with Jet at the Dust shop a few weeks prior. But she didn't want to say anything without having a chance to confirm it. Though, how exactly she was going to do that was something else altogether.
"Did he say anything to you?" she asked, hoping to hide her suspicions.
Vermilion shook his head, "Not a word." and then looked up in thought, "Though come to think of it, I—"
"Mr. Athelward!" a voiced boomed from the front of the room.
"Yes, ma'am!" he said as he bolted up from his chair, hiding his surprise as best he could.
The instructor crossed her arms in front of her and said, "Is there an important personal matter that you need to address?"
"Not at all. Just comparing notes." he said.
"Ah." she said back at him, taking a small step to the side, "Then perhaps you'd like to share your analysis on the subject with the rest of the class."
Vermilion tightened his throat and swallowed as he stared at the board. A dizzying array of complex calculations covered well over two-thirds of it. He moved his eyes rapidly across the board, and the room fell into silence save for the muffled laughter from a few of the other students. Cyan sighed, and was about to raise her hand when her brother suddenly spoke again.
"The energy density necessary to propel a shot the required distance and still achieve penetration against a Nevermore would be no less than 3.87 megajoules per kilogram."
Cyan lifted her eyebrows in surprise, as did the majority of the class. The instructor looked back and forth between Vermilion and the board behind her.
"That's correct. Well done." she turned back to the board and lifted her pen, "Now, to in order to stabilize a reaction of that strength—"
Vermilion exhaled his held breath and sat back down.
"Showoff." Cyan whispered to him quietly.
"What?" he grinned, "I can do two things at once."
She shook her head dismissively, "You were saying?"
"Right." Vermilion gathered his thoughts again, "I was going to say that he's been different for the last couple of weeks. This disappearing act of his? It's been getting worse."
Cyan chewed her bottom lip and asked, "What do you mean?"
"Just today," he said, "I haven't seen him since lunch. We were supposed to have a class right after that but he never showed."
A look of shock came across her features, "You don't think...?
They stared at each in silence for a moment, the only sounds of the instructor droning on in the background, carrying on the remainder of the conversation without a spoken word.
Cyan pushed her chair backwards, and started quickly for the door, "I'm sorry. I need to use the restroom."
The teacher was able to get out a single word of protest by the time Cyan made it out of the room. She and the rest of the class all turned to look at Vermilion, who shrugged as innocently as he could.
"Cafeteria food?"
Cyan made her way down the hall, carefully avoided the gaze of any members of the faculty she encountered, trying to make herself look as ill as possible. Once she was away from anyone who might be watching she turned a corner and headed for the nearest exit. The sunlight glared down on her once she pushed the doors open, and she ran all the way to the edge of the campus before stopping. It wasn't until she was about to step off of the sidewalk that she realized how foolish this was, and that she had no idea where she thought she was going.
"We should go left."
This time she managed to conceal the startled yelp as her brother's voice came down just behind her shoulder again.
"I didn't tell you to follow me." she said as she glared at him.
"You didn't have to." he said and started jogging down the street.
She found a strange comfort in the words. It was almost enough to make her forget how annoyed she was. Almost.
"How do you even know where you're going?" she said, quickening her pace to keep up with him.
"You know Auric?" Vermilion replied.
"From your chem lab?"
He nodded, "I passed him in the hall on the way out. He had an athletics class after lunch, and he mentioned that he saw Lyoh take this street towards the city."
"Great. Thanks. You can head back now."
She pressed ahead of him, but he almost effortlessly matched her pace.
"You bet." he said, then shot one of his knowing looks down at her, "Right after you tell me what's really going on. Or what you think is going on."
Cyan glared back up at him, and he stared right back. A flurry of angry words made their way towards the front of her mind, but she pushed them away with a sigh. Perhaps she really was too easy to read.
"I want to talk to Lyoh first." she said, turning her attention back to the street.
Vermilion nodded and led the way without another word. They crossed two blocks before slowing to a brisk jog, and Cyan signaled to her brother to follow her down a side street.
"Why this way?" Vermilion asked.
She didn't respond to him until they had made it well away from the sparse midday pedestrian traffic.
"Look around." she said, inclining her head towards the surrounding area, "Recognize where we are?"
He glanced at the streets and buildings around them, and his face brightened in recognition, "This is where we first met Roan."
"Exactly." Cyan said with a nod.
"What about it?"
Cyan explained, "Remember how Lyoh said that he was talking a shortcut home when he came across the gang?"
"...Not really." Vermilion admitted.
Cyan rolled her eyes and continued, "Well this isn't much of a shortcut, is it?" she gestured towards the thoroughfare again, "It's pretty much the most direct route from the campus to his house."
Vermilion examined the area as he considered this, then slowly nodded in understanding, "So if heading this way was a shortcut… where was he coming from?"
Cyan left her brother and paced across the street to the spot where the encounter had taken place. She knelt down and gingerly touched her fingers to the sidewalk near a dried patch of blood on the ground where Roan had been laying. The memories of that day began flooding back to her. Things had changed for all of them, far more than she had been willing to admit. As she recalled the fire and everything that had transpired inside her house, she felt herself curl her fingers into a fist. She took a deep breath and shook the memories away, focusing herself back on the present. Vermilion met her eyes when she looked back up at him, and he followed her gaze over his shoulder to the alley behind him. The two of them exchanged an affirming look, and headed in that direction.
"It's still not much to go on." Vermilion said, his expression uncertain.
Cyan shrugged, "It's a place to start. Unless you have another idea?"
He shook his head, and they continued down the alley until it opened up into street. They quickened their pace and headed another block in the same direction until Vermilion shook his head again.
"We don't even know what he was doing here that day. He could be anywhere in the city right now. He might not even be in the city. He could be—"
"Over there." Cyan pointed to a spot just ahead of them across the street.
Vermilion stopped, then followed her hand to see Lyohniy walking away from them on the other side of the street, with what looked like a small child next to him.
"...right over there." Vermilion finished, and threw up his arms, "Sure, why not?"
Cyan peered closer at the two of them. The much younger boy next to him wore a plain white shirt with dark slacks, had a mop of bright yellow hair, and a nervous look on his face. Lyohniy patted his back reassuringly as they continued down the sidewalk.
"Who's he with this time?" she asked.
"I'm not sure." Vermilion said, "That looks like a school uniform, but he's too young to be a student at Herald. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before."
Cyan considered this for a moment, "C'mon, let's follow them."
Vermilion nodded, and they trailed the pair down the streets for another few blocks. She was just about to suggest that they call out to him, when a group of six men stepped out of an alley just in front of Lyohniy. The boy immediately stopped, his eyes going wide with fear, and Lyohniy placed a hand on his shoulder and moved to step in front of him. The men were big, tough looking, and at least one of them was carrying a pistol strapped to the inside of his jacket that Cyan recognized from one of the weapon magazines. From what she could tell, it looked to be illegally modified too. The look in Lyohniy's eyes told her that he had noticed all of this as well, but he nonetheless remained assured of himself.
Vermilion took a step forward, getting ready to intervene, but was surprised when Cyan held up her hand to stop him.
"What are we waiting for?" he asked.
"I want to see what he does first." she replied.
They ducked into the closest alley and crouched behind a dumpster. Suddenly she became aware of an intensely rotten odor coming from somewhere in the bin that almost made her retch. It bothered her that in order to smell a thing, small particles of it had to first travel through the nasal passage and be sampled by the olfactory system. Whatever was making that smell, she didn't like the idea of microscopic bits of it going up her nose. She fought the sensation of nausea away and tried to focus on what was happening across the street. They seemed to be arguing about something, and the one closest to Lyohniy turned his back to him, presumably to confer with his fellows without Lyohniy overhearing.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" she said quietly.
Vermilion stood to lean around the corner farther and strained forward as far as he could before shaking his head, "No. If he would just turn his head a little more..."
He paused when the one Lyohniy was talking to started to laugh, and then studied him more closely.
"I think Lyoh just said he wants to meet someone."
Cyan looked at him, then back at Lyohniy. What was he getting himself into?
The one in front abruptly turned back around, nodded in the direction of the small boy and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Lyohniy nodded then turned and knelt down, clasping a hand around the boy's shoulder in a reassuring manner. With a smile, he spoke something to him that neither Cyan nor her brother could quite make out, and the boy nodded and began running past the group down the street. The man sneered, and turned towards the alley they had previously emerged from, signaling the rest of them to follow. The other five thugs surrounded Lyohniy, and together the group disappeared in the shadow of the buildings. Cyan and Vermilion nodded towards each other, then hurried across the street after them.
They trailed them to a fenced-in property consisting mostly of a large red brick building attached to the end of a manufacturing plant. The facility itself had been mothballed, with most of the equipment stored in the warehouse next to it, largely forgotten as the city expanded in other areas. The six men walked up towards the door, and knocked. After a short conversation with whoever was on the other side, four of them led Lyohniy inside, while the other two turned around and stood on either side of door, keeping an eye on their surroundings while trying, and failing, to look inconspicuous. The twins split up and circled the outside of the area once before meeting back up on the other side.
"Just those two." Cyan said.
Vermilion pointed his arm in a half-circle motion, "There's four more by the loading dock. Could be more inside."
"They don't look that tough." Cyan said, "We can handle them."
"Maybe," Vermilion replied, "But we don't know what's going on in there. We might put Lyoh in danger."
Cyan frowned. That was actually a very good point. They contemplated the situation in silence for a few minutes before Cyan looked up at her brother.
"Hey V," she said, a sly grin spreading across her lips, "you look a little lost."
His shoulders slumped as he frowned down at her, "Why do I have to be the decoy?"
She patted his shoulder gently, "Because you have such refined people skills."
He lowered his eyelids at her in a half-scowl.
"And because I need to talk to him first, remember?"
He sighed heavily and nodded. Then he took a deep breath, gave the two thugs on the door one more measured look, then spun around on his heel and walked blithely out of the alley straight towards them. He glanced around at one building after another, before letting his gaze fall upon the two men standing by the side entrance.
"Excuse me!" he called out while walking towards them, "Do either of you know where Pine Street is?"
The two thugs stared blankly at Vermilion for several seconds before the one on the left waved a hand in his direction, "Not around here. Beat it."
"Aw c'mon," Vermilion said, continuing towards them, "I've been circling this block for like forty-five minutes now. Are you sure?"
The one on the right unfolded his arms, and they both stepped away from the door, "What are you, deaf or something? I said get lost."
Just a little bit farther, Cyan thought.
Somehow Vermilion affected an even more sympathetic tone and glanced at the man on the right, who had yet to speak, "Well maybe he knows? I'm supposed to meet my friend. We're going to see Weiss Schnee perform at White Castle tonight. I can't miss that. The tickets cost me an arm and a leg."
The thoroughly irritated thug stepped close enough to roughly grab Vermilion by his collar, "I'm gonna cost you an arm and a leg if you don't scram in the next three seconds!"
Vermilion put both of his hands up defensively and continued to protest. Meanwhile, Cyan darted out from behind the trash bins and stood flush up against the fence. In that same instant, Vermilion deliberately stumbled to one side, putting the thugs between himself and his sister. As soon as they turned their backs to her, she leaped over the fence and ran for the building. The door had been left unlocked, and she quietly turned it in her fingers and slipped inside.
The bottom floor of the warehouse was piled high with several rows of large wooden shipping crates of various sizes. She could hear several voices coming from the front towards the loading dock, and crept softly in that direction. Light from the overhead lamps illuminated the center of the room, where Lyohniy stood, talking to a group of five other men. No one involved looked particularly happy. Cyan took cover behind a nearby crate and inched closer to the group to hear what they were saying.
"Who is he?" the one closest to the middle of the group asked. He was a tall, gangly fellow, with plain unassuming features, black hair worn in a buzz cut, and arms that looked like they didn't belong on his body.
"I don't know, boss." the one to his right said, "Some idiot askin' for directions to the Weiss Schnee concert?"
"Aw, man, that's tonight?" said another one to his right.
The rest of the group all turned to stare at him, and he looked down at the floor in shame.
"Well go get rid of him then." the boss ordered, and two of the men filed out of the room. Cyan swallowed as she watched them leave, and hoped that her brother would be able to get away quickly enough, and that she wouldn't be needing his help with whatever happened next.
"And as for you," he pointed back towards Lyohniy, "You've got guts walking in here after what you pulled. So I'll give you one minute to say something interesting before I have the boys get rid of you too.
Lyohniy maintained a respectful posture, but took a confident step forward when he answered, "I'm just looking for some information."
"And what am I, a library?" the boss said with a sneer, "Even if I knew something that you want to know, why should I want to tell you?"
Lyohniy set his jaw tightly, "I'm not asking for free."
"Yeah, you don't look like you can afford my rates, kid." the boss replied, his smirk widening with each word.
"I wasn't offering money…" the words trailed off, as Lyohniy seemingly just realized what he was agreeing to. Cyan felt her jaw fall open from shock.
The boss folded his arms and lifted his eyes in an increasingly amused expression, "A favor, eh? Now, you're saying something interesting."
Cyan couldn't stand it any longer. She rapped her fist against the crate as she stood up from her hiding place and boldly walked towards them, "And now he's leaving!"
A stunned Lyohniy turned his wide-eyed stare in her direction. The boss and one of his remaining goons did the same. The other's hand disappeared inside his coat as his eyes carefully measured the threat she presented.
"What—?! How the—! Who—?!" the boss sputtered as he tried to decide on the most effective threat.
"Cyan—!" Lyohniy blurted out, and immediately clamped his mouth shut in regret.
"Who?" the boss said again.
The man on the right pointed at her and nodded emphatically, "Oh yeah, remember? From the fire at the Athelward place on TV a while back. She ran right into the burning building. Told you she was cute."
The boss screwed up his face in bewilderment, as he and his other associate turned to stare at the man again, "Lawrence, you are some kind of special snowflake, you know that?"
Once again Lawrence hung his head in shame. Cyan resisted the urge to heave from disgust as she placed herself between Lyohniy and the other three men.
"What are you doing here?!" Lyohniy whispered in her ear while the men were still distracted.
"Leaving. And so are you." she said, and started pushing him towards the door. He stumbled backwards a number of steps while, apparently trying to decide if it was a good idea to resist her.
"Okay, that's it." the boss said, "Take your girlfriend and get out. And don't let me, or my boys, see your face near our business ever again."
"She's not my—" Lyohniy said, and then stopped.
"I'm not his—!" Cyan said simultaneously, cutting herself off at the same moment Lyohniy did.
The two of them met eyes, and she forced herself not to blush with embarrassment, "Leaving. Now."
He continued to try and protest, "But—"
"No buts." she interrupted again, then briefly looked over her shoulder at the boss, "He's very sorry to have wasted your time, and promises that you won't be seeing him again."
The boss huffed out his displeasure and started to turn away.
"Yeah, get lost." Lawrence added snidely, "Unless you want another 'accident' to show up at your door."
At that instant, the whole world stopped. The only way he could have possibly put more emphasis on that word was if he had made actual air quotes when saying it. Cyan immediately froze in place, her hand still resting firmly on Lyohniy's chest. He looked down at her eyes again to see the wild torrent of emotions was surging just beneath the surface of her neutral expression. Her breathing had grown so shallow that it almost seemed to stop.
"...What was that?" Cyan asked quietly.
Lawrence tried his best to look intimidating, but for some reason it just came out weasley, The boss glanced in her direction again, "You have a hearing problem too? He said get lost before—"
"I heard what he said," Cyan said, "but he didn't say it right."
Confusion fell upon everyone in the room, but especially so on the thugs. Cyan clarified herself, adding a definite edge to her voice, "What makes you think it wasn't an accident?"
"Are you serious right now?" the boss said, "It was all over the news."
"...where it was reported as an accident." Cyan finished, taking another slow step in the group's direction.
The man on the left kept his hand inside his coat, and except for Lawrence they had given up trying to look menacing.
"Well…" the boss searched for the right words, "I heard talk..."
Cyan gradually continued to close the gap, and studied him carefully as he spoke and then shook her head, "No you didn't."
The boss stumbled over his words again. Lyohniy noted the expression on Cyan's face before taking a step back himself.
"Buddy?" he said.
The boss looked over Cyan's shoulder in his direction.
"You done goofed."
Lawrence lurched forward, and in a panic, swung a wild punch in Cyan's direction. She leaned her head to the side, allowed the hand to pass by her within an inch of her face, and fired off a single return blow that knocked him sprawling across the floor where he lay groaning in pain, all while continuing her slow unbroken stride across the room. The other thug snatched the pistol from his jacket and began leveling it in her and Lyohniy's general direction. Before Lyohniy could so much as blink, Cyan was on top of him. She grabbed his outstretched wrist and dislocated it with a sharp twist, then removed the weapon from his grasp. As he fell to his knees and clutched at his hand, she worked at the weapon in a blur of motion; first she ejected the magazine and dropped it to the floor, then removed the slide, and then the receiver, the hammer, and continued until she had disassembled the weapon entirely. She didn't give the man long to stare at it, and hauled back with another punch that sent him careening into a nearby crate where he slumped unconscious. The boss almost tripped over his own feet as he stumbled backwards in shock.
"Hey!" he shouted towards the loading dock, "Get in here! Now!"
Lyohniy tensed, turned towards the door and adopted a more defensive posture, lifting his hands to his sides. Both he and Cyan gazed towards the loading bay. Nothing but silence followed. Everyone stared at it, and waited.
"What's wrong with you?!" the boss demanded again, "I said everyone inside!"
After several more seconds of silence, there came a thud from the other side of the closed metal shutters as someone took hold of them at the bottom. With a series of creaking groans, the doors slowly rose from the ground. On the other side of them stood Vermilion, panting heavily, and bracing himself with one hand against the bottom of the shutter, holding both it and himself up. He had a few bruises, his shirt was torn in several places, and he looked exhausted. But he wasn't nearly as bad off as the gang members who were lying on the ground around him.
"Seriously," he said between breaths, "Have you heard her sing? I am not missing this."
This time the boss did fall over as he backed up. Cyan smirked at her brother, then turn back to her slow and steady advance. He backed up to a crate, and raised his hands in front of him. She reached her own hand between them and grabbed his shirt to drag him up to her.
"Now tell me what you know!" she shouted, raising her other hand behind her in a fist.
"Alright already!" the boss said, "One of my boys was heading into the city, and he said he saw a bunch of guys leaving the Athelward place right before it went up."
"What guys?" Lyohniy said, moving to stand next to Cyan.
"I dunno, alright?" the boss shrugged as best as he was able, "Black clothes, black tactical vests, and a big SUV."
Cyan looked over her shoulder at Vermilion, who had made his own way inside. He shared her surprise, but also had a question of his own.
"What else do you know about them?" he asked.
"Notta thing."
Cyan hauled the man upwards and grabbed him with her other hand, then threw him over her shoulder onto the hard concrete floor. He grunted in pain as she twisted his arm behind his back in a joint lock.
"Okay! Ease off!" the man winced, "We're pullin' this job, see? We're going to hit that Dust shop down on 12th Street. There's a guy paying a fortune for any Dust that gets delivered to him."
"He didn't ask about your personal life." Cyan growled, and tightened her grip, "You have one minute to tell me something interesting."
"When I went to set up the drop off!" he said quickly, "I saw those same guys there. Black combat fatigues, big SUV. Those same guys were taking a payment him!"
"From who?!" Cyan shouted, and twisted again.
"Argh!" the boss ground his teeth, "Torchwick, alright?! Roman Torchwick!"
She slackened her grip, allowing the boss to catch his breath. Vermilion walked around the two of them to kneel down and speak to him face to face, "And where do we find him?"
"I don't know where he is!" the boss replied, "He contacts us! Never meets in the same place twice!"
Vermilion met eyes with Cyan again and nodded. She yanked up on his arm and tossed the man in a heap on the floor nearby.
"Right now you have two problems." she said to him, "You're 'boy' over there threatened my home. And that Dust store you're going after? That's where I get my supplies."
The boss got a defiant look in his eyes as he stared up at her. She smirked and looked over her shoulder at Lyohniy and Vermilion.
"We're done here." she said, "Fine a phone and call the police," she paused briefly, then added, "and an ambulance."
Vermilion stopped and turned back towards her, "An ambulance?"
She nodded, then turned back to the boss and cracked her knuckles, "This guy's in bad shape. A few broken bones, dislocated shoulder..."
"Huh?" the boss said.
"Yep." she confirmed, "A shipping crate fell on him."
His eyes went wide as he tried to crawl away.
The police went to work for a long time after they arrived. Between the time spent cordoning off the area, rounding up the gang, and collecting evidence, the three of them were left on their own for quite a while. Cyan glanced at Lyohniy several times, but she could never get him to look directly at her. The police had taken their statements individually, no doubt to be certain their stories all matched, so she still wasn't completely sure of everything that had led him down here. At last, a man with brown hair worn in a short neat cut, sporting a full day's worth of stubble, and dressed in business casual approached the three of them. Vermilion had spotted him when he first arrived, and told her that he was the one who had been investigating the house fire, and had visited them while she was still in the hospital.
"Detective Greene." Cyan said as he got closer, "Nice to finally meet you."
It took only a moment of study for his features to dawn in recognition, "Hey there, kiddo. It's good to see you up and around."
Despite his genial tone, he wasn't really smiling.
The detective looked them all over, took out a small, spiral bound pocket notebook and said, "Okay, I need to go over your statements again."
The three of them looked at each other and nodded once.
"Like I told the other officer," Cyan began, "I wasn't feeling well, so I decided to head home early."
Vermilion nodded in agreement, "We were worried about her, so we decided to make sure she got home safe."
"Yep" Lyohniy said.
The detective looked at his booklet, then back at them, "Uh huh. And how did you find these guys?"
"They just came at us." Lyohniy said. "Out of nowhere."
"Chased us all the way to the warehouse." Vermilion said.
"And that's where the crate fell on him?" Greene tilted his head towards a spot over his shoulder.
"During the fight, yes." Cyan confirmed, "Self-defense. We were afraid for our lives."
Greene cocked an eyebrow at her, then slowly turned his gaze towards the thugs that had already had their injuries treated, as well as the ones still waiting to be evaluated, and then to the paramedics wheeling the boss's unconscious body quickly towards the ambulance on a gurney.
"...Uh huh." he said, "And, exactly how many shipping crates did you say fell on him?"
"You know, it all happened so fast." Cyan pursed her lips and shook her head slowly, "I lost count."
The detective sighed and rubbed the fatigue away from his eyes, "Alright, stay here. Once we're done I'll get a patrol car to take you home."
They all nodded silently, and Greene politely excused himself. Cyan turned her eyes back to Lyohniy, who still refused to look back at her. This time though instead of looking away, she burned into him with her eyes until she was certain he had noticed. When he still refused to acknowledge it, she leaned in and punched him in the shoulder.
"Ow!" he yelped in surprise, and rubbed his hand over the point of impact, "What was that for?"
"That was for worrying me sick!" she said, "Street gangs, armed robbery, favors? What is the matter with you?"
"It's not like that." he said as a line formed on his brow, and he looked away again, "I just didn't think you'd understand."
She sharpened her glare, "Well then explain it to me until I do!"
Lyohniy took a deep breath and blew it out, "It's like this; you know Auric?"
Cyan turned her head in surprise towards Vermilion, who nodded in apparent understanding and said, "That boy you were with was his little brother, wasn't it?"
Lyohniy blinked at him, "Geez, how long were you following me?"
"What does he have to do with this?" Cyan asked.
Lyohniy gestured towards the gang, "Those guys had been after Auric for months now, trying to recruit him. When he said no, they started harassing his little brother. Jumping him on his way home from school."
Vermilion filled in the rest, "And you agreed to start walking him home. I thought it was strange how he just happened to see you leave today."
"So how did that work out for you?" Cyan said rhetorically.
Lyohniy winced, "I handled it at first. But every day they just kept sending more and more guys. Today I told them I'd back off, but I wanted to meet the boss first."
"Why did you want that?" Vermilion asked.
It came to Cyan in that moment, "Information. You were investigating the fire."
Her expression softened, and Lyohniy couldn't think of anything else to say.
"What made you think that they would even know anything?" Cyan inquired.
He tried, and failed, to meet her gaze as he responded, "I figured the White Fang were behind it. I mean, c'mon; we kick their butts, save the guy they were after, and the next thing you know your home is on fire? I thought if anyone could help me find out where they were, it would be someone like him."
"That's... certainly a thought." Vermilion said as politely as he could, "But for the White Fang to find out who we were, and where we lived, in the time it took us to walk home from where we encountered them is a little unlikely."
Lyohniy's expression faulted as he considered this.
"And besides," Cyan added, "You were there first. If they were behind it, wouldn't they have gone after your house too?"
"Aw, man." Lyohniy rubbed his eyes, sighed, and slumped to the ground against the fence, "So that's why you're mad?"
She shook her head and knelt down beside him, "I'm not mad that you were trying to help. I'm mad that you didn't tell us what you were up to. How are we supposed to be a team if you don't trust us?"
Lyohniy scowled and stared straight ahead. Cyan watched him carefully for a moment, then took him by the arm and pulled him up to his feet.
"V, go wait over there." she said.
Vermilion looked dismayed, "What for?"
"V..." she said, giving him a look.
He folded his arms and huffed out a breath, then turned his attention towards the police activity behind them and walked casually in that direction. Cyan led Lyohniy a few steps away, still in the same general area they were told to by Detective Greene to wait, but far enough that she was certain they were out of earshot. She turned to face him, resting one hand on her hip. For the first time all day, he stared right back at her.
"You've been telling Vermilion and I stories about your dad for as long as we've known you." she said, "'My dad was so tough, my dad was so brave, my dad never quit.' And I kept hearing over and over again how much the two of you were alike. Did his determination only go this far, too?"
He focused his scowl on her, "What are you talking about?"
"How are your grades right now?"
A pang of guilt washed over his features. Lyohniy unfolded his arms and looked down again, "...Bad."
Cyan gestured at him with both hands, "So that's it then? Things get a little bit harder than you thought they would and you're ready to walk away? You promised me that you'd stick with us while we tracked down Dad's murderer."
"I'm not walking away from that." he said, his voice growing harsh, "I'll still help..."
"How?" she demanded, "Teams are four members each. If you don't graduate with us, we'll wind up with someone else at the academy. How are we supposed to explain all of this to them? Or should we just ditch them whenever we think we have a solid lead?"
"Or maybe you'll be better off." he said with a scoff.
Cyan was stunned, "And how do you figure that?"
He threw up his hands in exasperation, "Oh, come on! I'm not like you or Vermilion, and you know it. Or even Roan. Shoot, he'd never been to a combat school before a day in his life, and he already gets this better than I do."
Cyan folded both hands across her waist, "And what in the world would make you think that matters?"
He met her eyes, and she softened her expression again, "Maybe you're not as smart as me..." she caught herself on her words, and hastily added, "...us. So what? You're more than a teammate, you're my friend. I promised you that no matter what I'd let you help. Well, that goes both ways. If you're falling behind, we'll have to catch you up."
"How?" he said.
"Starting tomorrow," she said with a confident grin, placing both hands on her hips, "I'll tutor you."
Lyohniy looked down to her with eyes filled with doubt, "What if I still don't get it?"
"Then we'll keep at it until you do." she reassured him.
"But—"
She pointed the finger of one hand at him to cut him off, "No. Buts."
He stared at her in silence for a while. Slowly, his mouth spread into a small grin, and Cyan could see a fire return to his eyes.
"Okay." he nodded.
She smiled at him, and patted a hand on his shoulder as she walked back towards her brother. Vermilion watched them carefully as they made their way back over.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
Lyohniy cast another glanced in Cyan's direction and smiled, "Yeah. We're good."
He then stretched a closed fist in Vermilion's direction, "Sorry I've been such a jerk lately."
Vermilion returned his smile, and bumped the outstretched fist with one of his own.
"It looks like it might have paid off." Cyan mused, "We have a name."
"Indeed." Vermilion gave her a nod, "Roman Torchwick." he said the name slowly and carefully, as if sampling it for texture, "Ever heard of him before?"
Lyohniy shook his head, "That's a new one to me."
"I'll ask Roan tomorrow." Vermilion said, "Even if he hasn't heard of him, he has a knack for finding information."
Cyan smiled at them both, and turned her gaze up towards the evening sky. She imagined Dad looking down at all of them, and sent up a silent promise in return. No matter what, they were going to find out the truth. Little by little, the pieces would come together, and they would follow the trail however far it would lead.
One small step at a time.