Chapter 7

Narihisago surged upright gripping his head for dear life. It felt like someone had cleaved it wide open with an ax, an experience he'd had unfortunate id well run ins with.

"Fuck! The cockpit definitely has a built-in buffer! Owww!" That had to be what the sequence of odd images the flashed by at the beginning of every dive. Blinded by the pain, he clenched his eyes tight, hissing each breath. Even behind closed eyelids his world pitched and spun. A sudden presence forced him to look up. A horrible mistake, he doubled over. "Momoki—please don't do that! Give me a minute!"

By a fraction, he did back up, his hand still hovering over Narihisago's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Just … fine … " he hissed sarcastically, "for having my consciousness ripped from me while I'm awake. I'm usually asleep when Kiki pulls this stunt."

Fukuda quietly crowed, "And that was what I was referring to."

The sound of her name hit Momoki like a freight train. He grabbed Narihisago's shirt, shock and anger mixed. "Kiki! What in the hell are you doing?"

Still reeling from the disorientation, Narihisago gripped the hands that has seized him, fighting not to vomit. "Don't shake me … give me a second … Momoki, stop! It isn't me doing anything. It's all her."

"You called her Kiki! You're on a given name basis?"

Slowly, he nodded. "Yes."

"So, she calls you Akihito?"

"Again—not my idea. Would you just listen—Momoki, please stop shaking me."

He released him, leaning back in a crouch as Narihisago caught his breath. "You better not have done anything to her!"

Narihisago glanced up once followed by a sudden flare of panic as his rattled brain came around the now clarifying impression. "Oh God, no! Momoki, how could you even … it's her consciousness! Not my choice. Besides, you know me, I may not qualify as sane anymore, but I'm not a pervert! She's lonely. We just talk, honestly that's all we do."

Studying him, Momoki flexed a fist. "That better be it. She's just an innocent girl!"

"You're missing who the abductor is here. I never asked her to snatch me into her dream world." He leaned up on an elbow, his brow furrowed. She'd taken him for a reason … what was it? He bolted upright. "Whoa! There's something a lot more pressing! Hirai's going to blow up the building with everyone inside."

Everyone straightened pulling off perfect impressions of startled prairie dogs as Momoki gasped, "What? How do you know?"

"Kiki told me in a panic. That's why he's here, he's on a revenge mission."

"For what?"

"Huyukawa."

Wakashika gawked. "The Pyrotechnician?"

"Turns out Hirai was in another squad, but they were close comrades to the point where Huyukawa defended him in court for what looked like war crimes. But Hirai is one twisted bastard, he's out for blood."

"Guys, if he's going to blow this place, we have to get out of here." Wakashika pointed to the door. "How about we make a run for the exit."

Fukuda held up a hand. "Yeah, can't say that didn't already occur to us. We scoped that out coming up. Narihisago wouldn't let me take a stab at it. Said that would be a suicide run, they booby trapped it. Anyone good with frag grenades? Yah, didn't think so."

Habutae glanced out in the hall before remarking. "Against a bloodthirsty ex-military office guilty of war crimes, and we have to stop him? We're mainly office workers, not combat trained. None of us are even armed."

Narihisago hung his head feeling rather useless. What could he possibly do to stop Hirai's revenge? It's not like he knew …

Tensing, Narihisago's eyes widened to the sensation not unlike fingernails down his spine. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. "Oh shit … " It was barely a whisper, but they all turned to look at him, still seated on the floor. "We do have a weapon."

The merciless storm was already building inside him. Trying to keep his breathing even, he climbed to his feet. "That's … that's why she showed me everything. The root of his drive. The pathway to reach him. Every damn thing needed to trigger it … Kiki!" His hand clenched on his own shirt in a pointless effort to get a grip. "What the fuck have you done?"

Momoki edged in front of him, blocking the way to the door. "Absolutely not. Get a hold of yourself."

Narihisago shuddered. "Easy to say … impossible to do! I've never been able to stop it!"

"Habutae, shut the door and hold it! That's an order!" Momoki narrowed his eyes, and declared, "You're not going anywhere. Remember what you told me? People don't act on impulses alone."

"Words … desperate words." He clawed at his hair. "I don't want to do this. But … we have only one shot to stop him before he does it again." The icy edge crept into his voice. What was the point of resisting. The battle had been lost the moment Kiki had shown him the path to the location. He crouched, ready to dart for the door. Momoki's presence the only thing keeping it at bay. It wouldn't for much longer. "I know where that scumbag is—right now."

"You told me yourself, you don't know the layout of the building."

"I've seen the path through his eyes. Kiki showed me. The chief's office."

Momoki glanced over his shoulder.

That was the opening he was waiting for.

Narihisago took a mad dash for the doorway. He barely made it past Momoki. A hand seized his wrist and flung him to the ground, hard. Narihisago landed chest down with his right arm pinned beneath him, Momoki's left hand iron-gripped that wrist pulling it hard. He'd wrenched Narihisago's left arm behind his back and leaned on it.

Momoki snarled, "You always were a failure when it came to combat! You couldn't break this hold three years ago, doubt you can now."

Narihisago grunted as he tried in vain to buck him off. It only earned him a tighter hold. "Asshole! Not everyone comes from a martial arts background!"

Leaning harder, Momoki's knuckles turned white. "That wasn't it, you used to be a pacifist. That's why you just about failed combat training. You hesitated too much. Stop struggling, I don't want to hurt you."

"I want to, but I can't!" Narihisago's head arced back, teeth clenched. "Gah! You're dislocating my shoulder!"

Momoki hadn't been lying, he didn't want to hurt him, that was visible enough in his worried eyes. Easing up on one pressure Momoki switched tactics, he ground his elbow into his spine.

"Ahhh!" It didn't stop his thrashing entirely, but an elbow in the nerve channels certainly made it harder to move.

"I warned you. Now calm down!" He leaned to the side trying to get a better look at Narihisago's frantic eyes as he lay pinned against the floor. "Seriously, you're not even fighting me that hard, why are you sweating?"

He hissed through clenched teeth, "I'm not fighting you … you never understood … Momoki, I'm begging you, let me go. You have no idea how long this takes to dissipate. How much it hurts! It's like—like I can't breathe!"

Momoki scoffed. "I don't have that much pressure on you."

"Not you—this damn urge! It's a fucking addiction, you moron! I hope you have enough in you to hold me down for the next couple of hours!"

Momoki stared down in quiet shock.

Narihisago's eyes half closed, but he still kicked in vain, fighting for purchase that Momoki wouldn't let him get against the tiled floor. "Shit, never mind. We won't have that long. Not without someone stopping that bastard who wants to blow us all to hell. Tell me, if you happen to be the unlucky survivor, can you carry the guilt of losing all those lives? Look at them—look at your crew! Can you handle losing their lives?"

In a sweeping gaze Momoki took in the worried Wellside staff standing around him.

The message rammed home as Narihisago pleaded, "I mean, look what the loss of just two lives did to me!" He shut his eyes as the memories threatened to gut him, heaping fire onto the already burning pyre within. Time had done nothing quell the agony of their loss.

Slowly, Momoki relaxed his grip, but not all the way. "I—I can't let you sacrifice yourself. Narihisago … I want you back … the partner I once had. I can't let you kill again, each time it's another part of you eroding away. This isn't you."

Narihisago bowed his head, slowly shaking it. "Why can't you let it go? I'll never function as a normal human being again. For fuck sake, Momoki, I gave up on that years ago."

"I … can't."

"Who's the delusional one now?"

Momoki stared down into his eyes, searching for something, struggling with something.

There isn't time for moral debates!

"I get it." Narihisago stared over his shoulder. "This isn't a choice you want to make. We really haven't been given one. So—don't make it. Turn your back and I'll take the consequences. Throw me in solitary for a solid month, I don't care. At least there will be a solitary to go to!" He took a few rasped breaths in the silence. "Momoki … with what she showed me I have the words to put an to end this. Please … I'm already un-salvageable, the only use I have on this Earth is as Kura's tool. Use me! Save their valuable lives!" He glanced to the Wellside crew. "That demented asshole isn't worth sacrificing everyone. Nothing is going to stop him. Except to turn his drive inward. I can do that! Let me!"

"Habutae." His voice was a mere whisper over the shuddering breaths. The iron-grip released inch by inch as he withdrew the grapple.

The moment the pressure eased enough, Narihisago launched himself for the door without looking back—he couldn't watch the heartbreak in Momoki's eyes. The truth was hard to face, but it was pointless to fight it. The man Momoki remembered no longer existed, he had been devoured long ago by a horrid crippling illness.

With the pathway now cleared for him, he threw the door open and darted headlong, drowning in the need to end this, the need to rid the world of Tooru Hirai. The need … to save the innocent lives inside this building. That tiny shred of his former self still existed. A single link to his past self.

"Kiki, I don't know if I should be pissed at you … or thank you."