.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.)

This chapter done to the tune of: Gavin Rossdale - Adrenaline

Chapter 37 – Waiting for the Other Shoe

"Few need me to remind them of the trials and tribulations that the past few years have brought us. We at Cyber Connect were so often at ground zero of these problems, the target of terrorists, hackers and viruses. Ours is an age where even one person with an agenda and a computer can teach us all a very harsh lesson."

He stood at five foot eight, noticeably shorter than most of his peers on the panel. He was an even fifty years of age, topped with short brown hair that was just starting to gray at the roots. Wearing a black suit with gray pinstripes, a simple red tie, and with an expensive gold watch adorning his left wrist, Kyoya Takashi looked every bit the career corporate, a man who had worked his way up the company ladder and made his share of friends and enemies in the process. As he spoke, his cloudy brown eyes broke from the teleprompter and briefly scanned the audience, which consisted of business leaders, news people, programmers and other miscellaneous attendees.

"Our company has been at the forefront of innovation and security since that dreadful night five years ago, and we shall continue to do so. Governments, businesses, public institutions, and even entire countries can benefit from what we have to offer." He looked away from the teleprompter again, distracted by a flash of a camera. "And not only us. Our…" there was an almost imperceptible hesitation, "compatriots… in the private sector have done much to spur the growth of the industry, and usher in a newer, safer digital age."

"Everything we've done, we've done in the name of progress, to ensure that these problems never happen again, and their instigators do not go unpunished." His eyes hardened, hands tightening on the podium. "Lest we forget," he added, "the Pluto Kiss brought the Internet down for merely an hour, and the resulting chaos cost billions of dollars, and several lives. Were it longer…" he paused, sighing dramatically, "I shudder to think of the consequences."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement from the blurry, out-of-focus figure of his bodyguard; the moving of a hand to cover a hidden earpiece. Compared to Takahashi's booming baritone, the guard's reply to an unseen microphone was completely unnoticed. His exit off the stage, however, was not.

Without breaking stride, Takahashi said, "Though these… 'cyber-terrorists' strike from anonymity, they do not strike with impunity. Together, we can stop them, and stop them we shall." As his guard disappeared through a side door, out of the main chamber, he added, "To the very last."

Dean clucked his tongue in disdain at the nearby TV monitor that hung from the ceiling. (You believe this guy? Helba and the others damn near saved The World, and he's still blaming all their problems on hackers.) He leaned back against the wall, sliding one foot up off the floor. (Well, I suppose that's all he really can do. It's not like he can come right out and say "Hey, one of the key developers was completely insane, and all the others were gone, and oh, by the way, there's an artificial human being running around on our servers. Surprise!")

He chuckled, but was distracted by the sound of a door being pushed open. He glanced right across the darkened hallway, which led to the restrooms and the phones, and spotted Miku leaving the women's room, heading towards him.

"Heya," he greeted her casually, standing up straight. "Shall we?"

She smiled. "Let's."

Together they strode down the hall, back onto the floor of the convention center. The bustle of the crowd assaulted the ears as bright lights and colorful displays took care of the eyes; Dean almost had to shield his, in contrast to the darkness of the hallway.

"So, Miku," he began as they followed the path around the side of the floor. "I've been meaning to ask you…" he stopped briefly, and started again with a stammer. "I, uh… I don't wanna suggest anything, but there's something I wanna know."

She gave a curious smirk. "I think you just repeated yourself there, Dean."

(Oh, so it's not 'detective' tonight, is it?) he thought, recalling how rarely she had actually used his name. "Yeah, probably," he replied as they walked. Taking a deep breath, he then said, "All right, I'll level with you. Lately, you seem… ah, how to put this… just, interested. Uh, in me, I mean." A few years or a few hours ago, he might have blushed, and he did still feel a slight heat in his cheeks, but this time he kept it in check.

There was a noticeable pause before she answered. "Mm-hmm."

He looked over at her, and she briefly returned the favor before looking straight ahead, somewhat coyly. "Well, you might say that," she finally said.

"Might you?" Dean retorted.

That throaty chuckle again, almost her signature. "Touche." She raised an eyebrow and looked at him again. "Perhaps I would say that as well."

Dean managed to keep his cool, although his face grew even warmer. "Is that so?"

She didn't immediately respond. It took him another six steps – halfway between the "Milestones in Interactive Entertainment" display and a grown man dressed as a familiar spiky-haired videogame hero – to realize that she wasn't following him. He turned in mid-step and found her looking down on the floor, her face unusually serious.

"You all right?" he instinctively asked, rejoining her.

She sighed, glanced up at him. "I… I think it about it still. How we met, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"That night… it was sheer luck that I wasn't even there at the time. They might have even seen me pulling up before they left."

Dean shook his head. "Ah, we all were kinda lucky that night, although I just wish we didn't have to trash your place in the process."

"No, that's not what I mean." She met his eyes again, and this time she didn't look away. "I… to be honest, even then I was a little… flattered, that you'd come after me like that. Even though it didn't quite work out that way." She managed a small laugh. "It seemed so strange at the time, someone I didn't even know going to that kind of risk."

The detective grinned. "Hey, everybody gets one."

"It still was a little new to me." Another sigh. "The only time someone has ever fought for me like that was… was in 'The World.' Fought to keep a player-killer… just some kid off my back while we were investigating some field." She lost herself for a moment, but quickly picked back up. "But it's more about you. I see you acting the same way for others. For Kite… and for Aura. It's…"

Dean tilted his head. "Yeah?"

She licked the back of her lips, and swallowed. "Brave."

His first reaction was modesty. "Me? C'mon…" he began, dismissing in jest to hide his disbelief.

Miku furrowed her brow. "I'm serious. You're… you're always willing to help someone out, whether it's a mystery, or just trying to help a boy meet a girl. I mean… you're not like someone out of the movies, some action hero or something. You fight when you have to, and you risk your life to help someone you don't even know."

It was Dean's turn to sigh. "No, I… I don't think I'd call it bravery so much as a guilty conscience. Uh, maybe it's because I never stopped thinking of myself as a cop and all, or maybe I just wanted to make up for what I did." He shrugged. "I'm no hero. I just couldn't walk away." (Just like Kite,) he thought ruefully.

A trace of a smile reappeared on Miku's lips. "I didn't say you were a hero. I just said you were brave."

Her voice was soft, her words genuine. In her eyes, he saw none of her typical guarded nature or secrecy; he detected none of her usual wordplay, subtlety, beating around the bush. His heart beat faster, just a little.

(Is it that simple?) he thought. (Because I'm a nice guy? Is that really it?)

(No, genius, it's because you've got guts. Damn, are you listening?)

"Brave, huh?" he parroted back to her.

She nodded slowly. "Among other things."

"Hmm." A smile slowly spread across his face. "Well, uh… th-thanks," he said shyly. With a little more confidence – and a noticeably faster pulse – he added, "That means a lot… to hear that."

Miku chuckled once more, moving to stand next to him. "And to think, I believed you a more typical tough guy when we first met."

Dean turned around, answering her laugh with one of his as they started walking again. "Hah! Yeah, I get that sometimes. It happens."

"Of course, I also thought you would be a little taller…"

He mock-winced. "Oohh, now that just cuts deep. You build a guy up, and then you tear him right back down." He made a grand show of staggering forward, clutching at an imaginary wound on his chest. "That hurts, Miku, that hurts right here. And here I was thinking of winning you a prize at the Counter-Strike tournament over there."

She shot him a questionable look. "How romantic of you," she said flatly.

"Well, I'd do Skee-Ball, but they don't have that here," he said with forced impudence, his grin showing through nonetheless. His act fell when he spotted a familiar face at tournament setup – a circular array of networked computers, with the point of view from a random player displayed on a 4-way television set in the middle. "Hel-loooo."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Mr. Kerrek himself," Dean answered. "C'mon, I've got an idea."

She followed at Dean's side as he approached the tournament, passing through a light crowd and heading for one player in particular – a fairly young-looking blonde man, dressed in a nice black suit. Miku crooked an eyebrow in surprise as she noticed a brunette in a fancy blue dress sitting at the computer to his left, also playing.

"Honey, look out!" cried the man, slamming his index finger down on his left mouse button. "Disarm the bomb, I'll keep 'em busy!"

"I'm trying!" she shouted back. "I keep getting hit, throw a grenade or something!"

It was all Dean could do not to burst out laughing. "Max, you didn't tell me your wife was into gaming!"

"Uh?" Max grunted, looking briefly over his shoulder. "Dean, is that you?"

"Eyes forward, man. I think your wife just gave you an order."

"Don't worry, I've got it under- DAMN IT!" His screen flashed red and his character's body fell over as machine gun fire tore him apart, and his wife wasn't far behind.

"Arrgh!" she growled, spinning in her chair and rising to stand on her heeled shoes. "I told you to use a grenade!"

"Rachel, I know how to play Counter-Strike, I've been doing it for years," Max replied, also standing up.

A haughty smirk appeared on his wife's face. "Yes, I know, because I got you INTO it. Remember?"

Max looked down, a little sheepishly. "Sure, lord that over me why don'tcha…"

"Well, sorry to interrupt," said Dean, "just wanted to say 'hi'."

Rachel turned to smile at him. "Ahh, so you are Dean, then." Her demeanor improved substantially, and she extended a hand out to him. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Dean smiled back, accepting her hand and giving it a gentle shake. "Likewise, Mrs. Kerrek. Max's told me a lot about you." Before she could give him a suspicious glance, he added, "All good things, don't worry."

Chuckling, Max joined the conversation. "Enjoying the event so far?" Noticing Miku, he added, "I'm sorry, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Max, and this is my wife Rachel."

Miku bowed her head slightly. "A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Miku Kurasawa."

Max nodded, and his eyes lit up suddenly. "Ahh… you're Miku, then. Heh heh." He grinned mischievously at Dean. "He's told me quite a bit about you, too! Very interesting things, I must say."

"Oh?" She tilted her head at the detective. "What kinds of things?"

"Ha ha, oh, nothing," Dean said quickly. "Just, y'know, the usual stuff…"

"I recall him saying he thought of you an awful lot…"

"Zzgt!" Dean gurgled, his eyes widening as he made a vague, sudden gesture with his hand. "Ah, heh…" he chuckled nervously, "ah, he's just making stuff up now."

"Is that so?" Miku asked, clearly amused.

Max continued unbidden. "And then there were those screenshots of her char…"

"GAH!" shrieked the detective. "I said… that was…" his face flushed as he struggled with words, made worse by the fact that now Miku and Rachel were openly laughing.

"And didn't you say something about a dream…"

(Time to go with the flow!) Dean cut him off, pointing a finger accusingly in Max's face. "Lies!" he bellowed in a formal, overdramatic tone. "You, sir, speak untruth! Untruth most foul!" Despite his embarrassment, even he was hard-pressed not to burst into laughter.

The two women were under no such restriction. Miku covered her mouth, vainly trying to stifle hers, while Rachel was a great deal more obvious. "Ohhh," sighed the latter as the laughter slowly died down. "You were right, Maxey, this is much more fun than dinner and a movie."

"See?" said Max. "I had a feeling this would be plenty entertain…"

"Excuse me, Mr. Stollis?"

Everybody turned to see a male police officer approaching Dean, a walkie-talkie in his hand. "Yeah?" said Dean. "What's up?"

"Ah, it is you," said the officer. "Good. Lieutenant Masamoto wanted us to find you. Just a moment." He brought the radio up to his mouth and pressed the talk button. "Floor seven to dispatch, come in. I've located Mr. Stollis, over."

"Copy that, floor seven. We're putting you through to the Lieutenant right away, over."

The radio died as the officer took his finger off the talk button; he held the device out for Dean. "He said it was important."

Exchanging looks with Max, Rachel and Miku, Dean took the walkie-talkie and held it close to his face, staring at it quizzically. (Wonder what's going on,) he thought, all trace of mirth gone in place of rising concern.

Masamoto's voice came through the radio loud and clear. "This is Masamoto, go ahead, over."

Dean hit the button and began speaking. "It's me, Masa. You rang?"

"Ah, good. Listen, something's come up. I need your help."

Chewing on his lip, Dean replied, "What can I do for ya?"

"Takahashi's bodyguard left his side during the speech. One of our spotters at Cyber Connect HQ spotted him heading into the parking garage."

Dean crooked an eyebrow. "Where's Takahashi?"

"Still here. Listen, this might be a shot in the dark, but I want you to follow that bodyguard. From what we know about the Vice President, the two almost never separate while on the clock."

"You want me to follow him into Cyber Connect?" Dean blurted out, causing Max to murmur something in surprise. "I mean… it sounds unusual, yeah, but… well, even so, how would I get in?"

"Do you still have the certificate I gave you earlier?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. Show it to one of the guards at the building, ask to see Francis Moritsu – he's the head security official on duty tonight."

Dean groaned. "I don't know, Masa, this sounds like a shot in the dark."

He heard the lieutenant clear his throat. "It is a shot in the dark. But we've got this area secured, the convention center is secure… CC HQ is the only building we don't have direct access to, and I've been told that more cars have entered the lot than left it tonight. I think there's something going on there, but we can't move in without something more solid."

The detective closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath of air through his nose. "All right then," he said. "I'll look into it."

"Thank you. Be careful, and good hunting."

"Sure," Dean muttered, releasing the talk button and handing the radio back to the officer. "Thanks," he said before turning back to the group, who were all staring at him pensively.

"What was that all about?" asked Max.

He stared grimly at Max, and was interrupted by Miku before he could speak. "I know that look," she said. "You're going to do something risky again, aren't you?"

"God, I hope not," Dean said under his breath. Louder, he added, "I gotta go check on something. Sorry to cut this short." He bowed his head to Max and Rachel. "It was nice to meet you, Rachel; good to see you, Max."

Rachel nodded. "And you, Mr. Stollis. Good luck."

"Yeah, I'll need it," he said with a stilted laugh. He then looked at Miku. "Ah, heh… sorry 'bout this…"

She stopped him. "Don't be. I'm coming with you."

Dean was positive he had heard wrong. "Whaaa?"

"You're my ride home, remember?"

Recovering from his initial shock, Dean vigorously shook his head. "Uh-uh. No way. I don't have time to take you home, and I can't bring you with me. I don't know what's going to happen there, but I'm not putting you at risk, too."

Miku took a step forward, staring deep into his eyes. "I know you're not," she said with surprising softness. "That's why I want to come with."

That was the last thing he expected her to say, though he wasn't quick to show it. "But what if something happens?"

Her voice went from soft to hard in an instant. "Would you rather it happen to you alone?"

"I… I…"

"Come on. I heard you say you have to follow someone, and it sounds like they're not going to wait for you. Let's go."

The Kerreks watched, amused and confused, as Miku took Dean's hand and – somewhat aggressively – led him through the crowd, across the floor and towards the exit.

"What just happened?" asked Max.

"Isn't it obvious?" was Rachel's non-answer, smiling as the two disappeared into the crowd. "He can't say 'no' to her."

"I'm sorry, sir, we're closed for the night."

Dean unfolded the slightly crumpled certificate – the one recognizing Dean as attached to the Tokyo police – and showed it to the guard, who was poking his head through the narrow opening in the glass doors; the only immediately visible entry into the massive Cyber Connect headquarters, which towered above them into the black sky.

"Police business," said Dean, the paper in his hand crinkling in the brisk, chilly wind. "We're here to speak with a Mr. Francis Moritsu."

The guard studied the certificate, and after reading a few choice lines his voice grew more respectful and courteous. "Of course. My apologies, sir. Come on in."

Dean and Miku entered the lobby of the building, allowing the guard to close and lock the door behind them. Though lit only by emergency lighting, the lobby was nonetheless rather bright, with plenty of mirrors and glass around to reflect what little light there was. Before them, a bored-looking security guard watched the monitors at the receptionist's desk, while two others chatted next to an unmarked metal door off in the corner.

"The elevators are right this way, sir," said the guard. "Hey, Taka," he motioned to the desk guard, "call Frank and tell him he has visitors."

Together, Dean and Miku were led to a row of elevators, where the guard punched the call button and then folded his hands behind his back, waiting patiently.

"So what are we to do?" Miku asked, adding "I mean, with Mr. Moritsu?" in an attempt to sound in character.

"Well," said Dean, "Plan A is we have a chat with this Moritsu character and see what we can find out about our man. Speaking of which," he turned to the guard, "have you noticed anything unusual tonight? Any visitors, anything like that?"

The guard shook his head. "None that we've noticed."

"Plan A, hmm," said Miku. "And what's Plan B? If there is one, of course."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Plan B is we improvise."

With a DING, the elevator reached the ground floor, and the three boarded it; the guard hit the button for the 10th floor. The doors closed, and the elevator quickly rose. Within seconds, the digital indicator had changed from L to the number 10, and the doors opened again.

"Huh?" muttered the guard. "That's odd, there should be a guard on duty here."

They stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor proper, looking around the maze of cubicles and offices, a single hallway along the back of the room stretching into darkness. "Erin!" the guard called. "Cole!"

No response.

Uneasiness worked its way up the small of Dean's back, causing him to shudder. Miku shared a similar reaction, and looked to him with questions in her eyes.

The detective answered by reaching beneath his jacket, where a holster held a concealed Glock 40 handgun. (Plan B it is.)

End of Chapter 37