.Hack: Penance
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached characters/concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

Notes: Happens after the end of Quarantine. (Thoughts look like this.) Sorry for the slow updates as of late; between tests, papers, getting sick as a dog and fighting with the washing machine, all my writing efforts have been stymied thoroughly. WOE! Anyhoo, you know the drill. Read on, enjoy, and critique to your heart's content :)

On a technical note, I'm not sure how many digits are in Japanese telephone numbers; although I have a hunch it's not seven like it is stateside, Google is being a bastard at the moment so I can't be sure. Corrections in this manner would be appreciated.

This chapter done to the tune of: Moke – My Degeneration

Chapter 24 – Start of a New Trail

"So, what should I tell her?"

Dean shrugged at Yasuhiko, standing on the curb next to the car. "Hell, I don't know, make something up. Tell her your last class was cancelled or you got let out early. Something like that."

"I guess I'll think of something," he replied. "See you later, Dean, Hiro!"

Dean and Hiroshi waved to the boy as the car drove away. His attention returned to the road, and he asked, "Which way to your house?"

"It's a couple blocks over," Hiro replied, pointing at the stop sign up ahead. "Take a left here."

"You need an excuse for your parents, too?"

Hiroshi shook his head. "No, my mom works during the day. Yasu's does too, usually. And dad... he..." The sentence hung for a moment. He finished with, "We're kind of separated right now."

Dean felt a twinge of pity as he neared the intersection. "Aw, I'm sorry, man." He waited a couple seconds before asking, "How'd it happen?"

"He used to work with some big accounting firm... I don't remember the name." Hiro sighed. "It's been about two years. He worked a lot of late nights; mom and dad never had big fights, or anything like that, but there was always this..." he frowned, "tension. It's like... everything they said to each other had some kind of... of..."

"Subtext?" Dean suggested, hitting the turn signal.

Hiroshi nodded. "Yeah, that's it. Anyway, I don't remember a whole lot about how it happened, but one night dad came into my room to talk about it." His features grew dark, severe. "He said something about how he and mom needed some time apart. A week later, he was headed for New York."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," parroted Hiro. "I haven't seen him in over a year... actually, this is the first time he wasn't able to make it home for Christmas."

"Damn," he muttered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

The 14-year-old scratched the back of his ear. "No, it's all right. It's just... it just surprised me. I didn't see him leave, he and mom didn't fight about it, even mom and I never talked about it much. It just... happened." He looked at Dean, then added, "Like it was normal."

Without missing a beat, Dean replied, "Life's like that sometimes."

"How do you mean?"

"That's what my captain used to tell me back on the force," said Dean, a strangely distant look in his eye. He continued as the car eased down the road. "Told me that the first time I shot someone. I mean," he licked his lips, "it's not like it is on TV or in the movies. It's just a loud bang, and then they're down, and next thing I know he was at the coroner's and I was doing paperwork."

"Captain said... I forget how he put it exactly, but it had to do with some things being just..." he frowned. "Ah, I don't know he said it, but it's like the opposite of a series of events, like, it's one long... something, I don't know. Mm!" He snapped his fingers. "Things have a way of happening without being noticed, right in front of our eyes. That's what he said." As he came to a stop, he glanced at Hiro. "I think he meant sometimes we just see things and our mind has to play catch-up; we miss the moment entirely, y'know?"

"I think I understand," said Hiroshi, who quickly found reason to change the subject. "Oh, right up ahead, there's my house," he added, pointing out the window.

Dean followed the pointing finger, pulling into a nearby driveway; the car bumped twice as each axle climbed off the curb, and came to rest before the garage of Hiro's house. "There ya go. Beats walking, doesn't it?"

"Sure does. Thanks for the ride, Dean." Hiroshi flipped open the lock on the door and reached for the handle, but stopped short, fingers just brushing against the metal lever.

Dean noticed his hesitation. "What's up? You forget something?" Hiro kept silent, prompting Dean to follow up. "You okay, Hiro man?"

"They said I was going to pay," he murmured, his eyes downcast.

Bemused, Dean shifted to park and turned slightly towards Hiro. "Who?"

Hiro faced Dean again. "The guy who was playing you." There was an uncertain quality to Hiroshi's eyes, melancholy in his words. "He said he'd make me pay."

"Hiro..."

"You said he was a criminal."

Dean flinched. He knew where Hiro was going with this. "Yeah," he quietly replied, nodding his head to questions not yet asked.

The 14-year-old boy looked away meekly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "What if..."

Dean didn't let him finish. "I'll stop them," he said firmly.

"But..."

"Hiro," Dean said in an insisting tone, which rapidly softened, "you saved her. You might have saved me, too. Think of this as me paying you back for that." He tilted his head, searching for Hiro's face. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

The detective took a deep breath, and spoke again. "I know it can't be easy for you... not being able to just tell someone what's going on. It's not even happening in the real world, it's not like you can just call the cops and tell them about it, or tell your family or friends." He exhaled slowly. "It's because you still have a life. You still go to school, play with your friends, do your homework and your chores, go outside, all that stuff you're supposed to do at your age."

Hiroshi swallowed inaudibly, watching Dean, who smiled back at him. "And you're gonna keep it. I promise."

The online hero felt his throat tighten, but managed a tiny "Thanks" in return.

BZZZZT.

"Hello?"

Dean cleared his throat and spoke into the intercom. "Junichiro Tokuoka?"

"Yes?"

"My name's Dean Stollis, I'd like to talk with you about the office you checked out last week, at Shikima."

There was some trepidation in his voice. "Concerning?"

"Concerning the mikes that were found in the office."

After a couple seconds, Junichiro answered. "Come on in." The door before him buzzed, and Dean pulled it open, stepping into the apartment lobby, an L-shaped room which was little more than a hall for the mailboxes and elevators, lit from above by halogen lights; around the corner, it stretched out into actual apartments, with a fire exit centered at the end.

He approached the elevator and pressed the call button; a microsecond later, the nearest door opened, far too quickly to have been waiting there. Sure enough, as Dean entered the elevator, a slender, middle-aged Asian man in a trenchcoat stepped off, glancing briefly at Dean as he passed.

Hitting the second button on the panel, Dean reclined against the right wall, watching as the door closed; the room shook slightly and rose, digital counter changed from one to two, and the door opened again, revealing a hallway of similar shape to the lobby. He got off the elevator and followed the worn blue carpet and beige walls, which carried him to room 213.

He knocked three times, and then clasped his hands behind his back. From inside the apartment, he heard footsteps, and then a click as a lock was released and the door opened.

Dean appraised the man evenly; he couldn't have aged a month or so from the file photo. Square jaw and face, hair short, curly and thick, eyes small and evenly set. He wore a pair of white trousers and a short-sleeve purple shirt, with a digital watch on his right wrist.

Junichiro's expression was unreadable, a perfect poker face. "What can I do for you, Mr. Stollis?"

"I'm investigating the men who rented that office," explained Dean, "and I saw your name on the registry. The police found hidden microphones which didn't have prints on them."

Tokuoka didn't budge. "And you think they're mine?"

Dean could almost see the verbal bait. "I'd like to know why you were there."

"Are you with the police?"

"Would you be honest only if I was?" Dean countered.

"Touche." A corner of Junichiro's lips hooked upward. "Please, come in."

He moved to one side as Dean entered, politely removing his shoes at the entrance. Junichiro closed the door behind him, and Dean took a cursory glance around the apartment proper; standard one-bedroom, kitchenette in a corner to the east, the west wall dominated by a TV and stereo, with a well-worn couch in front of it. A small fish tank flanked the doorway to the bedroom, clean and filled with several colorful species of fish.

Dean's attention returned to Tokuoka, who made his way to the refrigerator. "Can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Stollis?"

"No thanks."

He opened and leaned into the fridge, removing a half-full bottle of water. "The mikes weren't mine," he said as he closed the fridge, "although I did plant them. I simply used their own equipment against them."

"They were spying on you?"

Tokuoka mumbled the affirmative, taking a sip from the water bottle. "A few weeks ago some Americans showed up here, asking questions about my affiliation with Cyber Connect." He paused for a second. "My former affiliation. They were from the State Department, or so I assumed."

(From the State Department?) thought Dean. "What kind of questions?"

"They didn't directly ask about 'The World', although most of their questions did seem to pertain to it in some fashion." He frowned. "They never actually explained what they were looking into, but I didn't think much of it until later. I had left for Osaka, and came back a couple days later. Everything was in order, but my neighbor claimed she heard men in here one night. People moving around, whispers, things like that. I took a look around, and found a few microphones hidden around the apartment; one in the smoke detector, one by the phone, another by the computer, et cetera."

"And you think this is related to the visit you got?"

He took another sip of water. "Not until I got a call from a friend of mine who still works with the company. He and I still keep in touch, and he talked about strange characters that the vice president had met with."

(Where have I heard this before?) Dean mentally chuckled. "Go on."

"I got a name, Calvin Cahill. Tanaka said he looked like some kind of government official, but nobody was really sure. He heard the name 'Shikima', which, I gathered, meant the office complex." He stepped out of the kitchen, and headed for the center of the room, sitting down on the couch. "Imagine my surprise when I caught sight of one of the so-called agents in the building, in plain clothes."

"So you've been doing a little investigating of your own," said Dean, silently wondering why the mysterious 'they' would meet with heads from both companies. "What happened then?"

"I managed to stay out of sight; I scrambled the mikes, and rewired them to broadcast to my computer." He spotted Dean's quizzical explanation. "I did more at Cyber Connect than sit at a desk and type," he said with a trace of pride.

Dean walked over to the couch, and plopped down in a nearby chair. "You bugged the office. What'd you find out?"

The pride soon vanished. "Nothing. Apparently, the devices weren't meant for long ranges. I didn't think about it at the time, but it's likely they – whoever 'they' are – had a listening post closer to me than I was to them. By the time I realized it, there was no way I could get back into the building without being seen."

Dean felt his heart sink, taking with it his hopes for a new lead. "Why didn't you call the police?" he asked, though he was hard-pressed to really care.

Tokuoka gave a stilted laugh, seeming almost embarrassed. "I suppose I was curious at first. Even after finding the microphones, I wanted to find out what was happening on my own. Didn't get that far, though. Now, they would likely arrest me instead."

"I doubt that highly," remarked Dean. "But your friend did say that this Cahill person met with the vice president of Cyber Connect? You're positive?"

He sipped again from his bottle, smacking his lips. "Yes."

"Well, that's perfect," groaned the detective. "I'm after a guy who's nothing more than a name."

Junichiro seized the opportunity. "What exactly are you investigating, Mr. Stollis? Are you a detective?"

"Yeah, freelance," Dean answered. "I'm after these guys for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which," his voice trembled, "being that they were holding me in that office."

"They were holding you?" It was Junichiro's turn to look confused. "I don't understand."

Dean's fingers unconsciously dug into the armrest of the chair. "A guy I know in one of CC's rivals said basically the same thing you just told me, and asked me to look into it. They caught onto me, and kidnapped me; used me to..." he stopped, looking again at Junichiro. "You worked at Cyber Connect. You know how 'The World' was made, right? The things that were in it, the Data Bugs, the AIs and all that stuff?"

"Not entirely," he answered cautiously, his face tensing, "but I know what you're referring to."

"They're after one of the AIs, one called Aura," said Dean. "I don't know why yet; I'd thought they were planning to sell her to Asara Corporation, but with what you've said now I'm not so sure. Anyway, they kidnapped and drugged me, then had me play the game to draw out some hacker named Helba. Made me think it was all real, but she's the one they were really after. They didn't succeed, but they're still out there."

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands neatly folded together. "I need to know as much as I can about Aura, and why they want her so badly. If I can figure that out, maybe I'll find out what they plan to do with her, and how it would involve both companies. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that there's a lot at stake here."

"I see," uttered Tokuoka. "This is... this..." he parted his lips, clearly attempting – and failing – to form words. "I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, detective, I wish I could help, but... if it was about Cyber Connect, or even 'The World', that would be one thing, but I'm far from an authority on Aura."

"Do you have any suggestions? Seriously, anything at all you think might help."

Junichiro inhaled through his nose, letting his eyes close for a moment before answering. "The only person I can think of is someone I've never actually met. Are you familiar with the character Tsukasa?"

A klaxon blared in the back of Dean's head. "Yeah, a little."

"From what I understand, Tsukasa was connected to Aura, and spent a great deal of time with her." His face became grim. "He was also trapped in 'The World.' If anybody could tell you about Aura – anyone that didn't actually create her, that is – it would be him, and those he was with."

(Tsukasa... maybe Ryo could tell me about him,) thought Dean, remembering the name of Bear's player, yet another contact from a while ago. "Well, it's something to go on, at least," he said. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help," Junichiro repeated. "For what it's worth, I... know how you feel."

"How's that?" asked Dean, out of mild curiousity.

Junichiro tilted his head back, taking a final pull from the bottle, swallowing the rest of the water in one long gulp. "I started looking into the coma cases shortly after they fired me. One boy had been exploring an area in the game when it happened; I checked it out myself, and..." he cringed. "And I got hit, too. If Mai hadn't been there..."

"Mai?"

"She was one of his friends, and wanted to know what had happened to him," said Junichiro. "Anyway, like I said, I know how you feel. It's the game, everything about it... it isn't personal at first, but it gets that way fast, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," replied Dean. "It does."

From: Stolls

To: Bear

Subj: About Tsukasa

Hey, Ryo. I'm doing some research on Aura; I'll explain more in person, but the gist of it is I need to meet with the player of Tsukasa. You mentioned him a while ago, albeit briefly; if possible, I'd like to meet with him.

- Dean

BEEP

"Hello, you've reached 555-3937. I'm not here, please leave a message."

The words were in Japanese, but he recognized the voice and the number. "Miku, it's Dean. I got your message. I can explain what happened. Call me back when you can, okay?"

- End of Chapter 24