Urgh…writer's block. This may slow down a bit, especially once the school year gets under way. I've planned what I want to write, so it's not for lack of ideas; it's just getting it put down right and having the time to do so.
In response to the various questions: this will be slight YoNa (possibly a one-sided HaNa, as boiya puts it), I update sporadically when my muses feel so inclined, and Hao is neither with Morpheus nor the Agents, but what his is exactly remains to be told.
Waiting alone in a room empty except for a table and two chairs, Yoh folded his hands nervously. I didn't do anything. What's going on?
He looked up as the door opened, admitting the two people he had seen before plus one more in a similar uniform as the man. The girl in metal was carrying a folder, which she placed on the table as the blond man seated himself across from the detainee.
"Mr. Asakura," he started calmly, his eyes glinting behind his glasses, "as you can see, we have had our eye on you for quite some time now. I must admit, you seem like such a good boy at first glance. It was most disappointing to see that you have not kept to the straight and narrow path."
"What did I do?" asked Yoh helplessly. "I really don't understand, Mr. uh…"
"Agent Marco," said the man coldly. "Must I really elaborate, Mr. Asakura? You have long known the whereabouts and activities of the notorious hacker SoF, though perhaps you know him as Asakura Hao. You reported none of this."
"He's my brother!" exclaimed Yoh desperately. I almost knew where he was…
"In addition, you also have recently been combing the Internet under the alias Neo, often associating with other hackers your brother knew. This could completely ruin your future, Mr. Asakura."
Yoh sank down in his chair. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Well, as it is, we need your help, Mr. Asakura. We know already that you have been contacted by a man who calls himself Morpheus. Whatever you think you know about him is irrelevant. In reality, he is wanted for terrorism in more countries than any other man in the world, often considered by authorities as the most dangerous man alive."
There was something unnerving about his gaze, his brightly polished glasses glinting as much as his eyes.
"My colleagues believe I am wasting my time with you, Mr. Asakura, but I believe that you want to do the right thing, put your mistakes behind you, and start towards an actual future."
"So…?" queried Yoh, not sure where this was going.
"We are willing to wipe the slate clean if you will aid us in bringing a known terrorist to justice," put in the girl in metal, speaking for the first time. "We are giving you a chance, Yoh."
"It sounds good," said Yoh thoughtfully. "Yeah, pretty good deal…" Too good, in fact. And there was something about this all that he didn't like. "But I've got rights," he continued, hoping for a little more time. "I want my lawyer. I want a phone call."
"You disappoint us," said Jeanne quietly.
"All I asked for was –"
"The irony of it all," remarked Agent Marco, "is that you have no choice, Mr. Asakura."
"I'm not scared of you," lied Yoh, hiding his shaking hands under the table. "I have rights."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid a phone call is of little use to you if you can't speak." Marco said the last four words as if they were individual sentences, letting everything press in on the young man before him.
Yoh tried to ask what he meant, but, to his horror, found that something strange had happened. It was as if his face was suddenly turned to rubber, stretching, but not opening where his mouth should be. He bolted to his feet, knocking over his chair, his eyes blindly wild with fear. He tried to cry out, tried to call for help, but only muffled, meaningless sounds came out.
Marco smiled coldly and stood, his hand gripping Yoh's left arm like a vice. The other man caught his other side, and they forced him backwards against the table. Jeanne stepped forward, holding a small metal box, from which she drew what looked like a mass of thin wires around a tiny red light.
"You see, Mr. Asakura," she said quietly, "you will help us whether you want to or not." She pressed the light, and the thing unfolded into a mechanical creature, its extended wires like graceful tentacles, rapidly probing the air around it. It squirmed, worm-like in her hand as she brought it closer to Yoh's abdomen.
He doubled his struggle against the hands holding him down, but it was to no avail. Oh man, he thought miserably, I knew I should have buttoned up my shirt for once today.
He tensed as the thing touched his skin, metallically cold and frighteningly alive. It wriggled in a tight circle on his stomach, sensing its position, and then disappeared down his navel. He would have screamed as he felt it momentarily moving deeper within him, but his vocal cords seemed to have frozen completely. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible to vomit without a mouth, but he felt sick beyond any physical symptoms or reactions, a rushing, roaring sound filled his ears…
Yoh sat upright in bed, covered in cold sweat. He flopped back down again, his heart still pounding. It was okay. It was just a dream, just a nightmare. He was fine; everything was normal. Must have been the air from the club he had gone to, combined with the weird things that Anna girl had said. He knew someone had been smoking something illegal back there. Stupid hallucinogens. He made a mental note never to go out with Hao's friends again.
The phone rang, startling him.
He rolled over, determined to leave it. In his dream, he had almost fallen from his own office building because of a phone call from that Morpheus person. He wasn't too keen for something like that to happen again and in real life. But someone else had called too, reminded a quiet voice in his thoughts. He had spoken to Hao for a few incredible moments. A waking, painfully immortal hope stirred within him as the phone continued to ring. An ache to see his brother again clutched his heart, and he rose slowly from bed.
Walking to the small table, he picked up the receiver and put it to his ear without saying anything.
"This line is tapped," said a familiar voice on the other end, "so I must be brief."
Yoh's spirits sank, punctured with disappointment. Morpheus. So it wasn't all a dream. "Yeah, well, the agents…"
"They got to you first," acknowledged Morpheus calmly, "but they underestimated your importance. If they had known what I do, you'd probably be dead."
"Wow. Thanks."
"I'm no mind reader. I don't know what you're feeling, but unless you give up on me, I will not give up on you. Do you still want to meet?"
Yoh's mind was racing. He still had much to lose, but if this man could help him find Hao, he had even more to gain. "…Yes," he said quietly.
"Good. Go to the Adams Street Bridge."
*
It had to be one of the gloomiest nights Yoh had ever seen with the streetlights shining a sickly yellow through the pouring rain. He hadn't been able to find a decent coat in his disorganized room, and his sweatshirt was quickly soaked through. He saw no one as he walked down the cracked sidewalks; they had all been wise enough to seek shelter. There was the bridge, just ahead, its shadows dark and secretive.
Head down, he wiped the rain from his eyes, splashing ankle deep through filthy puddles and missing his warm bed and blankets. He needed his sleep; not enough and he would…well, sleep at work. But it wasn't the same; why couldn't this Morpheus choose decent times of day?
He stepped under the bridge, thankful it was semi-dry (he was no longer in immediate danger of drowning), content to blend in with the shadows. The road passing under the bridge was empty. He peeled off the saturated sweatshirt and attempted to wring it out while he waited, observing dully the rat that had just scampered past him.
The sound of running feet drifted suddenly through the rain. He melted back further into the shadows as they approached, quick and purposeful. He saw the silhouette of the person coming towards him through the pools of streetlight, someone with long hair and a coat streaming out behind him.
The person glided past him, unaware of his presence, and the phone in the phone booth just a little down the way began to ring. Yoh watched, intrigued, as the runner slid into the booth as if the phone had rung on cue, and, in the dim light illuminating the inside, his face became suddenly clear.
With a cry, Yoh ran out into the rain again, moving toward the other person. "Hao!!"
Hao turned, picking up the receiver and putting it to his ear. Then his eyes focused on Yoh. There was only time to see the surprise register on his face before he melted quickly into thin air, the receiver dropping to dangle from its cord.
"HAO!!" Yoh felt his hands slam into the side of the phone booth, sliding on the wet glass until they managed to open the door. His brother had been right there, had run past close enough to touch, and now he had lost him again. Frantically, he snatched up the receiver and put it to his own ear, hoping against hope for a miracle to let him hear Hao's voice.
Nothing but a dial tone greeted him.
He couldn't hang up. He had been so close; he couldn't believe that he had missed his chance. So he stood there, the rainwater running off his hair and down his face, but there were no tears from his empty eyes. It couldn't be… The dial tone continued, monotonous and merciless in the silence of the night.
To be continued…