Jun's posture shifts from something demure and coy to one far more formal when the limousine pulls to a stop before a condominium in Varsity Heights. Tatsuya notices, and silently lifts his head.
"The Father will be in the penthouse apartment," says Jun, and he quickly exits the vehicle, closing the door behind him.
The driver opens Tatsuya's door for him, as he pulls the bag across the back seat and over his shoulder. His eyes roam up the exterior of the building, towering high above the street, with several illuminated windows up the brown brick. The top floor, high above the rest of the dotted lights, is a solid stripe of lit windows. Maya walks close by his side, while Jun walks ahead of them both, solitary. He holds the door open for them, and it is the longest glance he offers them before his eyes return ahead.
"Good evening, mister Kurosu," the receptionist calls, a beautiful woman with empty eyes. "They are expecting you."
"Thank you," Jun replies, and walks to the elevators across from the desk. Both Maya and Tatsuya glance towards the receptionist, who offers no returning stare. Quietly, they stand behind Jun. The weight on Tatsuya's shoulder is strong, and he lowers the bag to the floor when the elevator opens, tile polished and mirrored on all flanks. Music plays - Tatsuya notes he thought elevator music was a myth. It's something better to focus on.
"The Father will be present," Jun says, the cold edge to his words softening in the elevator's solace. "I don't have to tell you, but—please do not engage in conversation with him. Asking him questions will not get you answers."
"That's hardly fair," Maya protests, but Jun looks at her sadly.
"I know—I understand." He leans against the steel rail, his black hair mirrored in all angles by the walls of the elevator. "But unless you wish to remain his philosophical hostage, you should not talk with him for long."
Maya frowns. "There was something I was talking about with that girl-"
The door opens. A masked man with a yellow kerchief stands by the door, and Maya jumps in her skin.
"We've been waiting for you," Prince Taurus says, with a dry voice with little inflection buried beneath the mask. Tatsuya tries to look into the eyes, but the black fabric within the sockets obscure any stare. Still - he knows it'd be cold, colder than the lights above him. "The Queen requests you, Kurosu. Get to her. You two are to follow me."
Tatsuya notices Jun closes one of his fists, exhaling through his nose. He stands straighter, and walks out of the elevator, walking away from the masked prince and his evening's accomplices. "Thank you, Prince Taurus."
"Yeah." Terse and sharp, Prince Taurus doesn't look in Jun's direction, and then, immediately, beckons the remaining two to follow. "This way. How much in the bag?"
Tatsuya looks to the bag hanging on his shoulder, shifting it uncomfortably. "I didn't count. We were pressed for time."
"Sure. Should be twenty grand in there. If there isn't—I guess you'll be hearing from us again." Prince Taurus doesn't turn his head back—his thick black hair sticks out from under his mask's straps at all angles, unkempt despite his formal front appearance. He is a black spot on the white colour of the penthouse, white walls and furniture veined with gold polish—Tatsuya realizes he never wants to see the kind of man the prince must be outside of the cult. He doesn't know why he makes this assertion—perhaps it's just the tone of voice he's using.
The door, with its golden handle, is otherwise not too different from any other door in the hallway. Behind it is a room of similar white and gold, but at one of the desks sits the familiar, eerie mask of King Leo, with Lady Aquarius standing vigilant at his side, a black tablet in her hands. Her eyes, obscured by the mask, seem to remain fixated on the tablet before her, disinterested in the penthouse's guests. The King's own eyes roam over Tatsuya and Maya, and his expression beneath the mask is indiscernible.
"Everything seems to be in order," King Leo remarks, "Not a sound has come from that rat of a man since your departure. And I see that you brought what was required."
Tatsuya shrugs the bag off his shoulder, gripping it tight as it hangs at his side. The swell of cash inside weighs it down heavy, but with a gesture from King Leo, Lady Aquarius walks forward and holds out her hand, and then takes the bag from Tatsuya effortlessly. She brings it back to where she once stood, resting it against the desk. Tatsuya watches, and finds he dislikes her presence, silent as she may be. "There were no problems inside."
"I suspected as much. Jun's presence neutralized the situation." King Leo rests his arms on the table, a broad hand supporting his chin. Tatsuya stares at the flat top of the desk, avoiding the burning eyes searing into him. "Tell me—was it complicated?"
"The job?"
"Yes." He can see the mask look at him, lift its face, watching him with more interest. Tatsuya shifts the weight on his feet. "I refer to the effort placed. Your work ethic—moral ethic."
Tatsuya can see Maya move out of the corner of his eye—perhaps shifting her posture as well, perhaps biting back whatever it is that sits on her tongue. She lifts her head, and closes her fists, resting her hands behind her back.
"It wasn't a problem," she says, the ice in her voice nothing more than a helpless appeal. It doesn't sit—it's a lie that spills out of her, but the call to duty has already past. "I just hope that will satisfy you enough to give us our friends back."
A quiet laugh, under the King's breath, already spills from the mask before Maya finishes speaking. Her jawline tenses when King Leo clasps his hands together, and leans forward. He looks at Maya, and then he looks at Tatsuya—the silence hits like a heavy hand to your chest. Then, he speaks.
"All in due time, Maya Amano." King Leo gestures behind them, towards the door. "Prince Taurus will explain your next mission as he sees you out."
Tatsuya says nothing. Maya takes his hand to guide him out when his stare grows harder, and the door's shut makes his shoulders tense. Prince Taurus stands not too far from a door, pressing his phone to his ear. He looks in Tatsuya's direction, and he can almost tell the man behind the mask rolls his eyes before hanging up on the poor soul on the other end.
"Done already? Fine by me. Get moving." He pushes himself off the wall, and doesn't watch if the two follow.
"The King said we would hear about our next mission from you," Maya says, and the man sighs.
"'Course he did. You're coming with me this Sunday. We're going to Charge Island to make some purchases with a seller I've been talking to." He only looks back when he presses the button on the elevator. "You'll be handling the money. A lot less action this time around."
"What's the product?" Tatsuya asks, and Prince Taurus grunts some kind of laugh.
"You're not important enough to know about that kind of information, kid." Prince Taurus steps into the elevator once the steel doors open. "I don't want to hold your hand and show you how to get in an elevator. Move it."
The ride is silent. The street, doubly so, when Maya and Tatsuya are left at the curbside by the masked individual driving the sleet black car. They drive off without a departing goodbye, and Maya is the first to turn her head. Tatsuya doesn't move beneath the streetlight's glow, looking up at the length of Lisa's apartment building. Maya stares at him, over his profile, over his jacket, and reaches a hand forward. He immediately flinches away from her and begins to walk forward, up the path towards the warmly coloured door.
"Tatsuya—" Maya follows, reaching out to grab him and slow his long steps, pulling him back. "Slow down. Are you alright?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he replies, terse. "Those people infuriate me too. There. We don't have to talk about it."
"I'm not talking about them. I don't want to talk about them either." Maya grabs the door before Tatsuya can, holding herself in place and looking directly into his eye until he watches her. Tatsuya's stare is cold, and Maya's is furrowed by her brows, and keeps her stern eye watchful. "I'm asking if you're alright. If you're feeling well."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"I heard those gunshots," she replies, and Tatsuya presses his teeth together. "I couldn't ask with Jun there. Did you get hurt? Was there a fight?"
"No," he says, flatly. "There wasn't. It—was a threat. No one got hurt."
Maya keeps her eye on his and doesn't let him open the door. Tatsuya watches her, wary, and feels the lie leave his mouth and not feel right. "Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes, Maya. I am."
She lingers, and then opens the door. "Fine. I believe you."
The elevator to Lisa's apartment is short, but it feels far longer, like he's being drawn up hundreds of stairs, when Maya sits on the opposite end of the chamber and stares at the corner where the decorative wooden panels don't touch, not watching Tatsuya. His eyes remain fixated on the floor number crawling up, avoiding Maya's posture, vacant eye, and absolute silence. He leans back against the wall, unblinking, and lingers when the door opens. Maya stands in the door and looks back to get his attention, and it's the only glance she shares with him as they walk to Lisa's door and wait for her to open.
When she does, she is in only a bra and sweatpants, her long hair pulled up. "Where the hell have you two been?"
"Work," Maya replies for Tatsuya, who stares past Lisa as he walks in. "Is—it alright if I come in, Lisa?"
"Sure," she says, looking away with a hesitant look in her eye. "Uh—do you want…tea? I don't drink it, it's Tatsuya's, but—you know, if he lets you—"
"Do whatever you want with it," Tatsuya replies, walking towards the couch facing the window and sitting down. Maya watches him, and she moves inside, stepping out of her shoes uncertainly. Lisa looks at Maya with an incredulous glance, a question begging to be asked dancing on the tip of her tongue. She guides Maya towards the kitchen area, and gestures to the pot before walking in front of Tatsuya's vacant stare.
"What happened tonight?" she asks, "Surely Kei's not working you to the bone, is he?"
Tatsuya closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at Lisa. "I don't want to talk about it, Lisa."
"You never want to talk about anything," she says, rolling her eyes, and it's enough to make Tatsuya get back on his feet and walk away. "Where the hell are you going?"
"Back out," Tatsuya replies, sharp tongued. "Don't follow me."
The door is not heavy, but it slams like it is, a sharp sound of wood meeting metal. Maya winces when it hits the frame, and she looks at Lisa with an uncertain glance.
"Guess it is that soulless," Lisa murmurs, scratching the flank of her cheek.
"A little," Maya says, and the lie doesn't sound right coming from her.
Tatsuya has his lighter pressed to the cigarette long before he exits the front doors, the rush of night's cold air running over him when they swing open. He glares forward at nothing in particular, as he draws in a deep breath of autumn night and heavy nicotine. Inside his skull throbs a headache, and i lingers long enough in his temples to tell him it's the burden of stress. Stress brought on by no one else but his own punishment, but that's in the footnotes of everything he's been getting into recently.
There is a bus stop not too far from where he lingers, far fro the apartment's entrance. He sits himself on the bench inside, the smoke of his cigarette lingering in the enclosed space of dirty glass and an advertisement panel with the advertisement in question ripped away and left with an old white sheet. Tatsuya leans himself back against the glass, running his hand against his mouth to pull away the cigarette. The street is silent. Distantly, a vehicle drives down another street, and disappears.
Reflection is never something he wants to favour. Self-awareness has already burned deep into him, and it doesn't tell him anything new, or guides him another way. Instead of thinking, instead of gazing too far into his own head—Tatsuya pulls out his wallet, and takes out the dollar bill that found its home within.
The number is smudged, from fresh ink on a note hastily taken when Jun's coy smirk disappeared after turning his head back in the car. But he can still read it. It takes him a lingering moment before he pulls out his phone and punches in the number to the messaging app.
hey. it's tatsuya. is this jun?
Time passes. Another car drives past, this time on the street in front of Tatsuya. The bus stop becomes the home of a fly, and it sits itself on the glass. Then, there is a response.
Tatsuya? Thank you for writing . I won't be able to talk for long - but thank you for saying hello.
Tatsuya glances away from his phone for a moment. He isn't sure why.
yeah. thanks for giving me your number. did you want to tell me something?
No - I only wanted your future company, if you are ever available.
Oh.
oh. sure. let me know when you're free.
Tatsuya reaches for the cigarette, but ends up nudging it out of his mouth and dropping it down between his legs and to the concrete sidewalk. It's better than self-reflection—but he doesn't know if it sits right. Maybe it's the apprehension towards anything these days starting to creep up on him. Or maybe he just hasn't gone out with anyone in a couple of years.
My mother needs me for something. Enjoy your night, Tatsuya. Thank you for responding.
He opens the message to clear the notification, but finds himself lingering. He reads over the short conversation as he rises, and exits the bus stop to walk back into the building.
Maya stirs her tea with an oversized spoon that makes dull, unceremonious sounds when it clatters against the curve of her mug. Lisa occupies herself with a thick, vitamin-infused drink in a water bottle she's probably been drinking out of all day.
"Do you work together now?" Lisa asks, and Maya glances up from her tea.
"Tatsuya and I?"
"Yeah. You said you were at work." Lisa leans herself back against the counter across from Maya, looking up at her ceiling. "I don't really care about Nanjo-this or Nanjo-that, but is it tough?"
Maya scratches her cheek. "A little. It's—not desk work. Errands."
"Can't imagine what kind of things Kei Nanjo would have you do for him."
It's obviously a probe trying to dig a little deeper. Maya occupies herself by taking a sip of sweetened tea instead before saying, "You'd be surprised."
Lisa looks over at Maya, and pushes herself off the counter. "So... how did you two meet, again? I kind of—made a whole assumption about it, and—"
"Don't worry about it," Maya interrupts, waving it off. She takes another sip before placing the tea back down. "Well... we met a few years ago. I was a year into my writing degree when he started studying to work in law enforcement."
"When did you stop talking?"
"It wasn't intentional. He just went off to the training while ai moves back home for my reporter opportunity." Maya looks over at Lisa, a sweet smile dancing across her lips. "He didn't tell me a lot about his friends back here. I think he was unsure about how busy you would be."
Lisa frowns. "Why would he think that?"
"He told me about your modelling career starting when he left." Maya reaches for her cup. "Maybe you'd get a lot more famous and he wouldn't be able to keep up."
"Tatsuya knows I'd always make time for him," Lisa says, crossing her arms with the touch of frustration. "I wouldn't just forget about him."
"What's it like, being a model?" Maya asks, turning her body to rest her hip on the counter instead. It catches Lisa like a spotlight can, and she sheepishly glances away, her shoulders relaxing.
"It's—tough. I mostly just do sports things. But it's still hard." Lisa keeps her eyes out the window, too nervous to glance back. "I like it a lot. I prefer just working out and getting more fit than any cameras or special diet crap. I might drop it for professional sports."
"My best friend's your instructor. She thinks you're fantastic." Maya can feel her heart sting when she speaks—but it's the truth, and it makes Lisa look back over with a smile.
"I think you're just saying that."
"What if I was? I don't think trying to make someone feel good about themselves is a bad thing!"
Maya's smile makes Lisa brighten even more. "I never said it was! It's—just nice of you to say that."
Lisa's smile is bright like the afternoon sun until she catches her reflection in the closet mirror door, and then a bright crimson suddenly threatens to swallow her face whole.
"—Oh my god. I'm still in my bra. I'm so sorry—"
It makes Maya laugh. "What's there to be sorry about? They're nice. I've got them too."
It doesn't take away the pink blossoming over her. In fact, it might make it worse. Maya notices, and her laugh remains. "I guess—alright, okay, yeah, I guess. You do. Jesus."
"Don't be shy," Maya teases, "I can tell you were just winding down."
Lisa folds her arms again, covering her chest shyly. She keeps her head up, watching Maya. "I miss walking around like this, you know—because, you know. Having a guy for a guest."
"Maybe you're due for a couple more girls as guests," she replies, with a playful wink. There's a knock on the door, and Lisa takes advantage of hurriedly running over and ducking her head down.
"Maybe," she mutters, and opens the door to Tatsuya, who walks past her with a half-murmured greeting under his breath. She turns to follow him with her eyes, leaning forward and closing the door. Once again, Tatsuya takes a seat on the couch, staring out the open window. In the kitchen area—Maya looks at Lisa.
"How about you show me what it was you were saying, Lisa?" Maya suddenly says, as Lisa looks at her with an incredulous, dumbfounded look. Maya gathers up her tea and pushes Lisa along, who gets the message before she trips over her own feet.
"Uh—yeah, of course, it's in my room!" Lisa says, not at all believable, and Tatsuya rolls his eyes when the door shuts to whatever secret sharing the two women want to exchange.
Slowly, Tatsuya tips himself over and lays down on the couch, over the pillow he's made his since he last saw his brother. Sleel lingers at the surface, and pulls him under like a vicious tide. He dreams about Katsuya sitting in a dark room, with Jun Kurosu holding a set of keys behind him, a sad smile on his beautiful features.