"Open your eyes, now."
Bando slowly opened his lids, and was actually surprised to see the tiny hospital room that he was in. As the doctor had explained earlier, his vision had a yellow filter over it, but he would take this yellowy world over the pitch black world he'd been living in for the past few weeks. He'd been in a less than stellar mood following the incident with Alma. Sedatives and the occasional threats of restraints had kept him from lashing out at the hospital staff, as did his blindness and missing limb. In truth, though, there was another reason for Bando's calm demeanor. He had been defeated. Beaten. Torn. Eviscerated. All by a skinny hag who looked like she'd never eaten so much as a salad in her entire life. It was a humbling experience, but he wouldn't stay humbled for long. When he was fully healed, he would takedown that witch that had mauled him.
Having no vision had been particularly gruesome. Having no vision meant he'd inevitably dwell on his other senses, ones he was feeling now and ones he'd been feeling back then. He could still remember the feeling of his blood spurting from his limb, as well as her bony fingers sinking into his sockets. That made him shudder. That monster had been inside of him, and he would not let up until he'd killed her.
"Can you see?" the doctor asked.
Bando turned his new cybernetic orbs toward the doctor who'd spoken to him. "I see you."
A nurse who was standing nearby smiled encouragingly. Bando restrained an urge to smack her. He hated being patronized.
"Good," said the doctor, "Now let's test your hand."
Bando stared down at his new hand. It was very stiff for him, and would make wielding a gun initially difficult. Still, he'd manage to get the hang of it in time. He concentrated, and felt the mechanical digits slowly close into a fist. There was a distinctive mechanical whir as the fingers curled. Bando figured the sound would either drive him insane, or he'd cease caring.
"Alright," said the doctor, "You're slowly getting the hang of it. It'll feel perfectly natural in time. We'll need you to come back in a few weeks for a check-up."
"So can I go now?"
"You may. Just remember-"
Bando tuned him out as he got up and left the room, the nurse barely able to get out of the way in time. He headed down the stairs, strode past the lobby, and walked out of the door without bothering to checkout, his mind already deep in thought.
In all of his years, he'd never failed to kill a target. It was something he'd always bragged about. Any target, no matter how tough or fierce, had always fallen by his gun. His toughest target by far, an iraqi bombmaker, had taken three whole months, and two dozen meat shields before he'd finally cornered the snivelling coward in a dingy basement. A satisfying kill, that'd been, but killing Alma would be all the more sweeter. He'd had plenty of time to think about his loss, to assess where things could go different, and where he could succeed.
Obviously, Alma was a threat at close range. If she didn't burn you to death with her mind, (as absurd as it sounded,) then she was perfectly able to tear you limb from limb with incredible strength and surprising speed. Also, she could teleport. The best bet of defeating Alma would be to take her down at long range. Perhaps a military grade anti-material rifle. He'd be able to find one, thanks to his SAT clearance, but it'd take some time to ship a weapon of that caliber. Meanwhile, he'd focus on finding out where Alma was, but unfortunately, he didn't have a clue. Heck, even the Institute had no idea where he could find her. His best bet was to go back to the scene of the crime. The familiarity might jog his memory into recalling some unknown detail.
...And maybe, just maybe, it would be good for a formerly blind man to see the sunset.
Yuka stepped out of what had been a much relaxing shower. It helped to clean her body and clear her head. As she toweled off her arm, her eyes caught sight of the cat scar on her arm, and she could not stop the despondent sigh escaping her lips. Telling Kouta about her scar had been the right thing to do, but it had been oh so hard. He and Mayu hadn't treated him like some headcase, but it reaffirmed the fear that they had felt toward the thing that had terrified him, that had terrified Nyu as well, and was now with her always.
Shaking her head clear of such dark thoughts, she managed to finish drying herself off. From there she got dressed, combed her hair, and was grateful for the comfort that came with such familiarity in her schedule. As she stepped out of her bedroom, she saw Kouta, who had also fully dressed, heading out toward the door.
"Kouta?" she called out. Her cousin turned to her, and Yuka had to suppress a wince at the look of pity he was giving her. She didn't want that. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "I'm still worried about Nyu. I don't think she's safe anymore."
"Are you thinking about going back to school?"
Kouta nodded. "He might be back there. I hope it's not too late."
"I'll go with you then," exclaimed Yuka.
"That won't be necessary."
"Don't turn me away!" Yuka was getting angrier.
Kouta sighed. "Yuka, it's still cold out, and your hair's still wet. You need to stay here in case Nyu shows up."
Yuka wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words. She could only watch as her cousin once more stepped out the door, in search of a girl they could barely comprehend, let alone understand.
Arakawa stepped into her boss's office, sighing. She was not looking forward to another day of dead ends, pointless studies, and futile projects. Sometimes she wondered what she was doing here, stuck in a dead-end job working for a boss who didn't much care for her. It hadn't meant to be this way. She'd graduated college with full honors, had gotten many good recommendations, and had hoped to apply her undeniably sharp mind to spearhead some new phenomenon. When a person has just graduated, there is always a giddy sense that seems to soar higher than the sun, and shines ever so brighter. She'd felt as though she could cure cancer, crack the fifth dimension, maybe colonize Mars.
So when she'd been sent a classified email detailing what had seemed like a thrilling endeavor, she'd practically leapt at the opportunity. A different species of human? A chance to tap into the knowledge of a being capable of wiping out humanity? How thrilling! Dangerous, but thrilling! She'd signed on, and had been grateful to work under someone like Kakuzawa...only to realise how teeth-gratingly frustrating the whole ordeal could be. In all the years she'd been working, she hardly felt that she'd gone anywhere with Kakuzawa's research, despite his constant reassurances that they were on the cusp of greatness. Now, here she was, bringing some instant ramen for both She was getting fed up with all of this. She wanted a promotion. She-
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Arakawa looked up, seeing a young boy, most likely a student, standing outside of the office. She frowned at the sudden intruder. It wasn't a school day. What was he doing here?
"Can I help you, young man?"
The boy shuffled awkwardly, and Arakawa could instantly tell that the boy hadn't expected to see anyone.
"Is Professor Kakuzawa still here, ma'am? My name is Kouta."
"Did he schedule a meeting with you this late at night?"
"...Sort of, yeah."
Arakawa shrugged. Good enough for her. "Alright. Come with me."
She fished out a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. The two of them saw the familiar clutter that was Kakuzawa's office, but no professor.
"He's probably down in the lab," Arakawa said in a bored tone. She walked over to the desk, and calmly set the bag of ramen down.
"The professor has a lab?" Kouta asked.
"Yep, in the basement. He goes there when he wants to be alone. Follow me, kid."
Near the office was a staircase that required a keypad to unlock. Arakawa put in the eight digit code, opened the door, and headed downstairs, with Kouta following behind him. She didn't know what Kakuzawa wanted with this student, and it didn't surprise her that he hadn't mentioned it to her. She was just the ramen delivery girl, after all. Still, the boy was here. Might as well ask.
"So, what do you need to see him about?" She kept her tone casual, but her interest was genuine.
"Um, well," Kouta began, and Arakawa found some small amusement in the kid's awkward behavior, "I found this missing girl, and I left her with him to look after her. But I'm worried about her."
"Well, I can see why that would make you worry." In truth, that was quite worrying. The only girls that the professor would be interested in would be Diclonius. What was the professor playing at?
"He said the girl was his niece," continued Kouta, "And so, I thought that…"
Arakawa snickered darkly at that. "Well, it seems as though you were fooled, young man."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, the professor doesn't have any siblings."
She abruptly heard Kouta's footsteps stop. Turning around, Arakawa noted that the boy had stopped with a look of great anger on his face. The boy looked downright furious.
"That jerk!"
Arakawa, of course, could not comment. She simply continued down the stairs. Kouta huffed, but continued with her, looking around at the various vials and tubes with a concerned frown. "What was the professor working on, exactly?"
"A rare disease that causes humans to grow horns," she said off-handedly. It was only a half-truth, which would be enough to cover anything. If the kid discovered anything more, than so what? That wouldn't be her problem. They didn't pay her enough to care. A sudden gasp was heard behind her, and she quickly turned, seeing Kouta with an extremely startled expression.
"Are you alright, kid?" her previous boredom had gone away.
"Oh yeah, sorry," Kouta did not look okay. His eyes were wide, and he'd broken out in a sweat. Arizawa thought back to Kakuzawa's "niece," and had to suppress a shudder. She wouldn't put it past her boss to try and hide a Diclonius. But what would he-
"I've never heard of a disease like that."
Arakawa had been so absorbed in her thoughts, that it took her a moment to remember her half-truth. "It's a highly contagious disease. Prof. Kakuzawa was working on a vaccine intended to curb the spread of the contagion. Patients who display symptoms of the disease would have to be quarantined."
"What would happen if the disease were to spread?"
The two of them had finally reached Kakuzawa's door. Deliberately ignoring Kouta's question, Arakawa removed a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Fluorescent lights cast a dull shine throughout the lab.
"He left the lights on," commented Arakawa as she and Kouta stepped inside, "I don't think he's here." If he was here, he'd have been incensed at having her enter the lab without knocking, and would have made his displeasure known at this point. But no, everything was quiet. Still, it was strange to leave the lights on.
"Nyu?" called out Kouta. Arakawa turned to look at him, cocking an eyebrow at the young man.
"The girl who the professor took," explained Kouta, "Her name is Nyu. Nyu? Nyu?!"
The boy was spirited, Arakawa had to admit. The pair of them headed further into the lab, looking around tables, until Arakawa reached another door. She opened the door into darkness.
"Professor-" That was as far as she got before the stench assaulted her nostrils. A pungent, burning aroma. It was powerful enough to make Kouta fall back a step.
"Ah! What's that stench?"
Arakawa didn't answer. She might not have even heard. She went into the room, flicking on the lights as she entered. Kouta followed behind her. The pair ventured further into the lab, nearly gagging on the smell. Then Arakawa's foot stepped in something. At first, in that brief moment before she looked down, she figured she had stepped on some specimen. Then her eyes met the charred remains of her boss, a mix of blackened bones and boiled blood.
Arakawa shrieked so hard that she felt something in her throat tear. Her scream made Kouta scream, then he saw what was left of Kakuzawa, and he screamed even louder. Arakawa stumbled back, grabbed a table to support her jellied eggs, and tryed her best not to pass out.
"Is that Kakuzawa?" moaned Kouta, "Wh-who did this?"
"I-I don't know," answered Arakawa, and at first, she genuinely didn't know. Her panic made no room for logic. Then she remembered the incident at the Research Institute. The body count. Alma.
"This is wha-" She had to pause to get the tremor out of her voice, "This is what happens when you deal with people who have that horned illness. This is why they must all be eradicated."
"What?" Kouta somehow looked even more shocked than before, "No, tha-that can't be it! Nyu wouldn't!"
"You need to leave," said Arakawa. She had managed to regain a bit of her composure, "It'll be better if you're not involved."
"Yeah, okay," Kouta's voice was still thick with shock. He looked down at the burnt skull of the man who'd taken his friend, "W-why does he have horns?"
"I don't know," replied Arakawa honestly, "Just get out of here, and keep this to yourself."
"Yeah, sure," Kouta lied. In the back of his mind, he was already beginning to plan how he would explain this to Yuka, and what it might mean for Nyu. He turned and headed out, the smell still assaulting his nostrils. Kouta felt that he would smell that infernal stench for the rest of his life.
Arakawa watched the boy stagger out of the office, and her shoulders slumped. She couldn't help but feel a bit sympathetic for him. No child should be exposed to violence like this. Who knew what effects it would have in the long term. Sighing, she pulled out her phone, pondering as to whether or not she should call the police first, or the sponsors. She decided on the latter.
The building they were on had a great view. She remembered that Lucy had always liked good views, so she had gone to a rooftop where the countryside was great, and the cityside was vast. Honestly, though, she didn't expect Lucy to wake up to see the view. She was still sleeping, her back against the wall. She watched her friend, trying to piece together what had happened.
Lucy had gotten along with the Boy...with Kouta before. The Diclonius had explained to her that it was good to have many friends, but that they would always be best friends. That was enough for her. She'd even come to like Kouta in her own (twisted) way. But now both of them seemed to have forgotten everything, which, given all that had occurred, was odd. Also, Lucy had seemed so...happy with them both...happy without her. It was honestly enough to make her want to burn the whole house down, with everyone inside it.
Yet she'd endured, showing patience she never knew she'd had. She saw everything, always dealing with any threat that had befallen her friend. She'd even tried to show some kindness towards the Girl by returning her dog to her, especially when it reminded her of the dog she and Lucy had once adopted around the time they'd first met. But now things were getting worse. Everyone was beginning to come after them again, and she didn't think they could stay here, anymore, despite how happy Lucy had been.
As she watched Lucy, a dark scowl slowly spread across her face. She was her best friend. How could she be happy without her? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right! She should find them, the cousins, and burn them slowly and-
She lowered her head, clawing at her scalp in aggravation. Lucy had told her to be more considerate, even if that had only been a single part of her mind. And while it was unbearably aggravating at times, she'd persevered, venting her rage and wrath on those who'd deserved it. It had been so fulfilling to sink her fingers through that man's sockets, to rip out the insufferable girls limbs. She would've killed her had it not been for that man, the man her friend told her not to kill just yet. She wasn't fully sure why they should wait, but she'd always trusted her, as best friends always should. It was thanks to Lucy, (and maybe the cousins) that she was able to show enough maturity to wait this long. But now she wanted her friend back, and she felt that she knew how to do it.
While Lucy had been hanging about the house, playing with her hat and studying roaches with rapt devotion, her friend had been studying her brain. When she and Lucy had been separated, she'd come to learn a lot about the human brain. She remembered, in between the moments of pain and grief, the various doctors and scientists studying images of her brain. They felt comfortable discussing it around her. They thought she wouldn't understand. They never treated her like a person, always seeing her as nothing more than an overgrown lab rat. She remembered hearing about synapses and neurons, and the nervous system, which one lab coat had unceremoniously referred to as "the great fleshy tree of thought."
Being a psychokinetic entity had given her an additional level of power that went beyond the ability of syringes and scalpels. She'd analyzed her friend's stunted mind, looking over all that had been damaged by that sniper's bullet. The broken thoughts and muted memories had presented themselves like a complex jigsaw puzzle. Things needed to be put back together in the right way, or the whole picture would come out wrong, assuming one could get the pieces to fit. It had taken some time, but now she felt she was ready. She could awaken her friend.
Alma smiled. Finally, they could be together, and all would wither before them.
Yuka didn't know how long she'd dozed off while waiting for Kouta, but when he woke her up by stepping through the front door, it had already become night. Blinking back sleep, she got up to greet her cousin, who somehow looked more tired than she did. Yuka took this as a bad sign.
"Did you speak with the professor?" she asked.
Kouta gave his cousin a bleak look. "No. He wasn't there, but I did speak with his assistant. She seemed polite enough."
"Well, maybe we could speak with the professor tomorrow."
Kouta looked at his cousin for a moment, as if still processing the request. "I, um, I don't think we can."
Yuka frown was close to dismay. "Why not?"
"He-" Kouta started to say, but froze as something began to claw its way up to his mind. Something that he'd suppressed, and then suppressed the fact that he'd suppressed it. (If that makes sense.)
A child's blood-spattered shoe.
Flying through it.
"I'll hate you forever!"
"Kouta?"
"Stop it!"
"ALMA NO!"
Red. Everywhere.
"Kouta!" Kouta flashed out of the memory lapse, not entirely sure of what he'd seen. He looked and saw Yuka standing in front of him.
"...I need to go to bed," he told her, and walked calmly past her. Yuka didn't say a word. She just stepped aside, and hoped that her cousin would finally get a good night's sleep. That was an ever-increasing rarity.
Kakuzawa, Director of the Diclonius Research Institute, hung up the phone with an inconvenienced sigh. Not grief-stricken. Just inconvenienced. He fixed a stern gaze at Kurama, who was standing across from his desk.
"My son appears to have been killed," he stated to his deputy. Kurama nodded his head in consent.
"I've read the report, sir." Kurama was almost tempted to offer his condolences in a manner that could only be able to be done ironically, but figured it would not be the best time. It would also be a waste of breath to an emotionally-stunted old man.
"He was burned alive, too," continued Kakuzawa, "Only Alma could be behind this. That meddlesome ghoul has been thwarting me at every turn. If she keeps denying Lucy to me, then we'll never be able to achieve our goal."
"I've been keeping all channels open for her," said Kurama, "Police, security, any and all resources we have."
"Any reason why Lucy's been so silent?"
"I'm not sure, sir."
"Perhaps she's building up her scheme for revenge," replied Kakuzawa with a dark grin. Kurama said nothing, so Kakuzawa changed the subject, "I hear Silpelit #7 has grown rather attached to you."
"#7 has been decommissioned sir," stated Kurama. By your orders, he secretly added.
Kakuzawa shrugged. "She may have never used her vectors against humans, but she was no exception to the pattern. Don't let yourself forget that. Diclonius born from carriers are dangerous predators. Unable to produce. Capable only of killing. They're laboratory specimens, and nothing more. Don't get the wrong idea about them."
Kurama quietly gritted his teeth. "Yes, sir."
Kakuzawa gave his subordinate an assessing stare, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. Kurama gave a bow, then turned toward the door, and swiftly left without a single word. Kakuzawa watched her leave, then let out a snort.
"Fool."
Shirakawa had been standing outside Kakuzawa's office, waiting for Kurama to come out. So much had been happening as of recently, and it was all making her head spin. She didn't know whether or not Kurama would be able to move past this, whether the institute, in fact, might be able to move past this. The door finally opened, and she looked up to see Kurama exiting the door. He headed down the corridor, not bothering to wait up for her.
"Has Armacham called back, yet?" he asked.
"No, sir," she replied.
"Of course not," he scoffed, "That would be too easy."
"What was it that the two of you were talking about, sir?"
Kurama let out a weary sigh. "The professor's son has been killed, yet he didn't seem to be upset by any of it. He's keeping his emotions down."
Shirakawa was chilled by the news, but curiosity drove her forward. "Sir, you've never mentioned your family before."
Kakuzawa stopped in his tracks. The question had caught him off guard. For a moment, Shirakawa was certain that he wouldn't answer the question. Then he spoke.
"I had a family, once. But when my wife gave birth, I killed the child. She saw what I did to our daughter, and it drove her into despair. she committed suicide."
He continued walking down the hallway, ignoring the fact that his assistant had stopped, and not checking to see the look on her face.
Nyu slowly woke up, blinking back sleep as she took in her new surroundings. She looked out past the building's rooftop and saw the city, all it's buildings, the trees, the streets, the haggard woma-
Nyu fell back with a scream, but Alma was ready. Had been for weeks. She lunged forward, and two skeletal hands clamped down on either side of Nyu's head with a vice-like grip.
Don't struggle. You know me.
The words cut into her mind, like always, but now, it seemed like there was something beneath them. Something…...familiar. Nyu froze, looking into the yellow eyes in front of her. They seemed to be as bright as searchlights.
You know me.
Thoughts and feelings began to resurface. They felt painful and out of place, like cramming a triangle through a cube-shaped hole. But some unfamiliar (repressed) part of her welcomed it. Welcomed everything, even the pain. With every new memory, she felt less and less afraid. The orphanage, the streets, the zoothetraintheInstituteKouta-
Nyu shut her eyes as the final feeling awakened within her: The love she felt for her best friend. Her sister. The one person who knew and shared her pain.
Nyu fell back as Alma let go…
…
…
…
...and Lucy looked up at her.
"I know you," she said, tears streaming down her face, "I know you, Alma."
In an instant, Alma shrank back down to her child form as she embraced Lucy, sobbing heavily. There would be bloodshed in time, many screams of horror, flames burning and flesh rendered. But for now, there was this: Two beings, capable of such cruelty and destruction, were in that instance reduced to nothing more than a tearful, heartfelt reunion.
Ain't friendship sweet?