Far East Branch - Veteran's Floor

When Soma arrived in Hamasaki's room, he was a mess of swirling thoughts. Though he had prepared for the past 24 hours or so what he was going to say, now that the opportunity had presented itself, he wasn't sure where to begin. Ichiro welcomed him with hospitality as he always did, waving him to sit anywhere as was usual. The other veteran nodded before making his way towards the couch. He took note of the steady changes appearing throughout the room, the most notable being a lava lamp on the dresser with floating purple liquid.

Ichiro gestured towards his minifridge in silent offering, but Soma declined. He was far too tense to be anywhere near cans right now. Any attempts at doing so would likely result in him crushing it, staining the guardian's furniture and floor. Instead, he opted to flop down on the sofa, letting his arms fall limply on the cushions. It was a heavy piece of furniture, although simplistic. Perhaps it would serve as an effective blockade, should the other veteran enter a blind rage. He wouldn't blame him. Soma had nearly done the same thing.

Suddenly, his fidgeting fingertips found a soft piece of fabric, drawing his attention downward. There was something small and blue wedged within the corner of the couch cushion. Curious, the gently tugged the object, wondering if the upholstery had been damaged by Neo's claws at some point. It came loose with little effort, springing free from its confines and dangling from his fingers. He stared at it for a moment, confused by the foreign material… and after a few moments, he instantly regretted it. While it was no result of damage, his finding was inarguably Neo's.

Dangling from his fingertips was a pair of royal blue panties.

His eye twitched with irritation, the back corners of his mind very unhappy with the idea of Neo's unmentionables littering the other man's room. Logically, he was well aware that it wasn't Ichiro's fault. The pair didn't have that kind of relationship. In fact, it was likely that her guardian was just as, if not even more frustrated by the situation than he was. Even still, it annoyed the hell out of him. Shaking his head, he tossed the garment toward the dresser, conveniently just as the other veteran was making his way back.

Returning with a beverage, Ichiro paused, a look of confusion rising to his face as the blue fabric landed by his foot. He blinked, confused as to why he was being assaulted with clothing items. But after looking down, it took him only a few moments to identify what it was. As expected, his response was an aggravated sigh. "Damn it, Neo. How many times…" He grumbled. Collecting and tucking it into a dresser drawer, he shook his head. "Sorry about that. I keep telling her to stop leaving her clothes in here, but of course, she never listens."

Soma quirked an eyebrow at the explanation, not entirely following his logic. "Neo leaves her clothes in your room?"

"Neo leaves everything in my room." He muttered, gesturing towards a pair of gloves and hairbrush sitting abandoned on his bedside table. "It's bad enough that she leaves them, but then she tosses them around on top of it."

A blank stare was his response, his mind trying to piece together the information. "…Why?"

Ichiro shrugged. "No idea. She sometimes dresses in here and throws things around while she picks out her outfits. Other times, she leaves them purposefully so she can get dressed later. At this point, probably half of her wardrobe is in here."

Soma opened his mouth to question him further… but after a few moments he shut it again. His folly was clearly in his attempt to use reasoning in relation to the New Type. Trying to figure out anything that woman did was nothing short of a migraine. Instead, he shook his head, quickly finding his aggravation trading for sympathy.

The poor man had probably spent countless hours doing Easter egg hunts in his own bedroom searching for Neo's discarded items. Trying to keep anything orderly with her around was like trying to dry a sidewalk in the rain. Gods forbid anyone were to enter his room either. It was no wonder the whole Den was convinced the two were having an affair. Shrugging his shoulders, Ichiro leaned against his dresser, Love Juice in hand.

Soma wrinkled his nose at the sight of it. "Don't tell me you actually like that stuff."

Hazel eyes slowly drifted towards the bright pink can. He had grown so accustomed to them at this point, that he had forgotten the behavior was far from normal. "Hehe… yeah, these days."

"…These days?" Soma questioned, making a silent guess on the underlying cause.

"The E3 can cause unusual side effects." Popping open the can, he sighed. The intoxicating scent of the beverage confused even himself. Shaking his head, he returned his focus to the matter at hand. "So, you said wanted to speak with me. What's on your mind?"

"I had some questions for you… about Neo."

"I'll answer whatever I can."

"What exactly do you know about Neo's experimentation? You mentioned that she frequently attended appointments. What were they for?"

"Ah…" Of course. He had been wondering when that topic was going to arise. "I suppose I never told you. They weren't anything too extravagant. Mostly blood draws to extract her Bias Factor and physical testing to follow her development. But when her condition started to worsen, it became more about managing her deterioration."

It was Soma's turn to look confused. He had often wondered what forms of trickery the branch had used to mislead him. Was this one of the many fables they had spun, or something relatively accurate? After all, the most efficient lies were often interwoven in truth. "Deterioration…? Are you saying… you think Neo's undergoing transformation?"

"She is undergoing transformation. Just very, very slowly. It's an unfortunate side effect of her unstable biology… one that I still haven't found a solution for."

"Solution? Wait, is that why you brought her to the Far East?"

"Yes. The Far East Branch is a hotspot for Aragami activity… but it's also the leading branch in scientific research. We went into hiding here so that I could work in peace. Away from the prying eyes of those who don't believe she can be saved."

"They were trying to kill her?"

"Some of them were. People tend to have very divided ideas about Neo's existence… they either love her or they hate her. She has that effect on people."

"Then why go to the trouble? Why bother training you when they could just slay her themselves?"

Ichiro narrowed his eyes, mildly irritated with his insinuation. "I'm not an assassin, Soma… I was trained to eliminate Neo in case. When she deteriorated too far, either physically or mentally, I was tasked with putting a stop to her before she got too dangerous. Exterminating her was always a last resort, and I didn't even want to do it then."

"When?" Soma questioned, taking careful note of his phrasing. "You're saying there's no way to stop it?"

"I don't know… maybe not. But if there is a way, I'm going to find it. That's why I came here, to work with the greatest minds in Fenrir to reach that end."

'That explains a lot…' Soma thought, organizing the information into a careful timeline.

Their motivations were finally clear, both their intentions and how they had carefully misguided him. They had convinced him that Neo was sick and her transformation inevitable. Something that could be prolonged, but never halted. Ichiro grew up with those people, and they had weaponized that trust by making him believe that they were helping her. Her opposers knew that he would never argue something that would be for her benefit, just as they knew that Neo would never tell him otherwise.

Her love for the Hamasaki's ran very deeply. She would never want to jeopardize either Hiroyuki's or Ichiro's research nor make their jobs too difficult. The New Type's endlessly troublesome nature was primarily a result of insatiable curiosity. At the root of it all, she wanted to be of help to them. To further their goals. Thus, she would endure and suffer in silence, so long as she was being put to good use. Because that was the kind of person Neo was. Always caring for others, yet never for herself.

Conversely, they knew that Ichiro would do anything to help Neo. As a would-be adopted sister, she was very important to him. Thus, they used misdirection to keep him compliant. Then, they had put him through rigorous training to keep him distracted and conveniently occupied during her experimentation. They manipulated him with the thought that she would inevitably mutate, her transformation a matter of time rather than possibility, and prepared him to eliminate her when the clock ran out. This allowed them time to freely use her as they wished… then dispose of her when she served no further purpose. It was both a brilliant and unfathomably twisted plan… and one that had nearly succeeded.

But through all their planning, they couldn't prepare for every possible situation. Her opposers hadn't accounted for the possibility of a wildcard. Ichiro came to love Neo, compromising his entire position. He wasn't willing to go through with the mission, which was why she had been allowed to slip so far. And somehow, that information had made its way back to them. So instead, they used a ploy to push him over the edge by toying with the most vulnerable areas of his mind.

Soma could still recall the one-sided transmission that they had sent to him; the incriminating evidence that made her look the spitting image of the monster they wanted him to see. There was truly no end to their web of deceit, even going so far as to send a replacement in his stead. What had they offered Utsugi in exchange for Neo's life, he wondered? What lies had they told Utsugi to trick him into carrying out their interests? Never minding the fact that they conveniently left her human half out of the equation. Despite the depraved nature of it all, Soma wasn't too surprised. How could he be? He had felt firsthand the effects of Fenrir's puppeteering by his own father. It was the very basis of their entire operation.

Sighing, Soma returned to the conversation. "When did it start?"

"When did what start?"

"Neo's decline. You grew up with her, you know what she was like."

"As cheerful as she was mischievous."

"Right… so when did that start to change?"

Ichiro pondered it. "Hmm… it's difficult to say. She was a pretty happy kid for the most part. She never enjoyed her time in the lab, but she tolerated it well enough. I didn't start to see a noticeable change until she was about seven or eight."

"And no one else noticed? Wasn't she in your father's care?"

"Initially, yes. But following the incident, she was transferred."

"Incident?"

"My mother's death. When she died, a lot of things changed around the branch."

"Was she a member of Fenrir?"

"No, she wasn't a researcher, but she was very popular among them. Almost everyone in the branch loved her, and she was close with most of the scientists. When she died… it hit people pretty hard. My father became a withdrawn, focusing more on his research. He couldn't place as much attention on Aragami elimination while raising Neo. So, he split their roles and transferred her primary care to his most trusted subordinate."

"And who was that?"

"Another researcher named Samuel."

Soma grimaced at the name. Of course, it would be him. "Most trusted, huh?"

"Yeah. He reported directly to him, and he was very close with my mother and me. He wanted to leave her with someone who would take good care of her."

Soma nearly snorted at the sentiment. The sadistic irony. Controlling himself, he instead shifted his line of questioning. "…Was it an Aragami strike?"

"Wow, good guess." Ichiro took another draw from his beverage. "Although, that's probably the most common nowadays. But you're right. It was a freak accident. Never happened again… it's just unfortunate that we were there when it did. Wrong place, wrong time."

"You were there?"

"Yeah, I was with my mom. We were bringing my father a bento when they struck."

"…And no one knows how or why?"

"Nope. Just an unfortunate, unexplainable event. Looking back on it now, it isn't exactly all that surprising. That entire day was strange from top to bottom."

"Strange how?"

"Just little things. For example, my father was inside of the Anti-Aragami lab…"

"Was that unusual?"

"Not necessarily since we have them on every floor. What was weird about it was that he was working on the lower levels. He normally works higher up, but the upper floors were blocked off that day for routine maintenance. And since my father was on that floor, we were there too."

"That's one hell of a coincidence."

"Tell me about it… But I doubt anything could've been done. Not long before the attack, I could hear screams, so they were probably already in the building."

"Screams?"

"Yeah. It sounded like it was coming through the vents. But it was at least a decade ago, so I can't really remember. Honestly, I still don't know if I imagined it."

Soma fell silent, the gears turning wildly in his head as he processed this new information. All the pieces were falling into place. He could still remember the agonizing shrieks of Neo's helpless form as the researchers repeatedly cut her open. Those were the noises that Ichiro must have heard. If that were the case, then the day of her experimentation must have been the day of the attack. An attack caused by her desperate cries for help.

It was likely that the 'maintenance' was just a cover for her testing, which was why they blocked off the floors in the first place. And as a result, Dr. Hamasaki was in the reinforced laboratory on the lower floor. Thus, Ichiro and his mother were both on the same level when the Aragami attacked. He was right to call it a freak accident. A result of pure dumb luck. Had any one of those factors been even slightly shifted, the entire situation could have played out differently.

But it didn't.

Ichiro's mother died that day as a result of Neo's uncontrolled power and the torture that elicited it. And if she was as beloved as he claimed, then chances were many within the organization blamed Neo for the woman's passing, as well as so many others on that day. It didn't matter whether or not she was actually at fault. The mistrust surrounding her was sufficient. That was when they stole her voice to ensure that it would never happen again. But it wasn't enough.

Lindow's disappearance had proven one thing to them with nary a doubt. Grief makes people do terrible things. The suspicion towards Neo turned into resentment. That resentment grew into hatred. And none held a grudge more strongly than Samuel, the Doctor's most trusted researcher. He was close to Mrs. Hamasaki and probably took it personally when she died. What's worse, he knew the true reason behind it. Dr. Hamasaki, in his quest to prevent such a tragedy from happening in future placed her in his colleague's care. Unknowingly into the hands of the man who despised her the most.

It was probably the most fucked up situation he could possibly imagine. And now, more than ever, Soma knew he would have to tell him the truth. He would have to apprise him of the events that transpired and at whose hands. He would have to explain to him that almost his entire life had been an elaborate series of lies… and the ones closest to him had orchestrated them all. That she had spent nearly every minute of it, following that day, being brutalized and tortured. That they electrocuted her with a shock collar and beaten her into submission. That they had burned her. Mutilated her. Raped her. And it had all happened right under his nose, while they were training him to be her caretaker.

Ichiro's voice awakened him from his morbid daydreams, reminding him that they had been in the middle of a conversation. "Did you have any other questions?"

"…No. That was all I wanted. Thanks."

"Any time." Ichiro nodded, eyeing his tense body language as he sat silently on the couch. He gave him a few moments, patiently waiting to see if he would press forward. But he didn't. It seemed he was going to need a little nudge. "Now then… if there's nothing further, there is something that I'd like to say as well."

Soma lifted his head, raising an eyebrow. He had spent the better half of an hour interrogating him. It only made sense that he would have inquiries of his own. "Sure."

Ichiro tilted back his head, slowly downing the rest of his questionable beverage. With a tired sigh, he placed the empty can on the dresser and leveled him with a grin. Not his genuine, friendly smile that seamlessly drew in those around him. No, this was a dangerous expression; one that didn't reach his eyes. "…You're a terrible liar."

"Excuse me?"

"I have been watching you for some time, Soma. I've had my suspicions, but our discussion yesterday confirmed them. You've been hiding something for a while, and until now, I've disregarded it."

The veteran scowled, both irritated and slightly embarrassed by his vulnerability. He shouldn't be surprised. This was a man who had spent his entire life watching someone's every move, learning psychology, body language, and subconscious cues. Few things escaped his hawk-like gaze. It was only to be expected that he would see right through him. But Ichiro wasn't angry. He was concerned.

"Soma… what is this really about?"

A frustrated sigh left him. There was no turning back now. "Neo… and her time in the North American Branch."

"I've gathered that much. Clearly, there's more to the story."

"You mentioned that Neo was sick."

"We've established that also."

"No. I mean when you were children. When Neo said she wanted to run away… you told her she couldn't. Because she needed her treatments."

Now this caught Ichiro's attention. His eyes widened slightly, surprise showing clear on his face in a rare display of total transparency. There was a possibility that Neo had told him, certainly… but Neo was secretive. That wasn't likely the case.

"I also know that you frequently brought her sweets to placate and reward her for continuing to do so."

Ichiro's eyes grew sharp, suspicion rising as Soma continued on. It seemed that he knew far more about their lives than he had let on. In particular, he seemed rather privy to their more private interactions and discussions. He didn't know where he was going with his thought process… but he didn't like it.

"You mentioned that someone wanted to erase Neo's existence. You were right."

Now, his features showed alarm. "Soma, you're scaring me."

"Neo isn't sick. I don't believe she ever was."

Ichiro crossed his arms pensively across his chest, inclining his head ever so slightly. "Care to share your hypothesis?"

"Yes. I believe it was a distraction to keep you ignorant. To prevent you from questioning what was really going on."

If looks could kill, Soma would surely be on the floor gasping for breath. He had never seen such a serious expression on the guardian's face, not even following Neo's most disastrous antics. If he didn't tell him, he would likely try to wring the answers out of him. And with his ever-growing enhancements, he may actually succeed. "Soma. What do you know?"

It was now or never.

"Hamasaki… the truth is -"

BANG!

Both men startled as the room trembled around them, following a loud crash. Something had hit the walls. Hard. There was a moment of pause as the two of them exchanged a look of trepidation, each wondering the same question. For a moment, they paused to listen for the Aragami alarm, assuming a breach… but the speakers were silent. A tense silence hung in the air as the sense of foreboding slowly washed over the two of them. Then, they felt it. Oracle cells. And if Ichiro could feel it… that could only mean one thing.

The two men exchanged a silent look, each confirming what the other was thinking. Then, without a word, they bolted from the room at top speed, rushing down the corridors towards the sound. Their footfalls thumped loudly on the floor; their senses keened for the looming threat. The impact had reverberated through the walls but hadn't been definitive enough to determine a location. But within moments, a second crash echoed down a separate hall, giving them the answer they needed.

Turning, they doubled back and turned down another corridor. Both men could feel their heart rates increase as the familiar pull grew stronger. There wasn't a doubt. Neo was losing control. The closer they got to the source, the more concerned they became. The sensation coursing through them wasn't like the ones they typically felt when Neo destabilized. Wild, erratic pulsations, irregular and rapid like a raging river.

This was no river. It was a storm.

It was measured and calculated like a building hurricane, with each pulse growing stronger and louder with every beat. Soma felt sick to his stomach, the sense of dread gripping his heart like a cold fist. He didn't know what had set the woman off this time. He could only hope that it wasn't human. Because if it was, Utsugi would be impossible to convince.

Rounding the final corner, the sound of clattering and groans reached their ears. Rustling fabric and faint thumps were audible, indicating signs of a struggle. Yet, they didn't smell any blood. That was a good sign… or so they hoped. Bursting into the next hallway, both veterans felt their hearts drop into the pits of their stomach. They didn't know what to make of the situation. And neither one of them was prepared for what they saw.

Lying on the ground on the opposite end of the hall was Otto, coughing as he held his shoulder. There was a human-sized dent in the wall where he had collided, evidently the first impact. Caleb lay unconscious on the ground near the vending machine. It was bent nearly in half with its contents spilled across the floor. Likely the second.

And seated on the bench against the wall was Gunter, struggling weakly against an enraged Neo as her clawed hand constricted around his neck.