By the time he came back from reminiscing he was on the complete opposite end of the park. He had to double back, and he barely made it before his ID beeped 9am at him.
It felt surreal to come into the locker room and see other people. It had been months since he came to work on time. Two of his senior coworkers had come in just before him and were dropping off their personal items before heading into the lab proper. One of them, a twenty-something year old woman named Angela, turned when he came in.
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, well. Running late today, aren't we, Lab Rat?"
Some of the senior technicians had taken to calling him 'Lab Rat' because of the obscene amount of hours he clocked in the lab. The name was obviously meant to be a taunt, but he had accepted it with grace and even adopted it as his moniker. If he had to use a fake name, "Nezumi" was ten times better than "Takashi."
He smiled sweetly at Angela. "As always, it's nice to see—"
BAM.
Both he and Angela turned their attention to the room's other occupant. Nezumi didn't know his age, but he always looked old to him. Or not old so much as washed out. Everything about him was sandy grey from his hair to his eyes. Even his personality was draining. Whenever he spoke to him, Nezumi was always left with a dry, bitter taste in his mouth.
His name was Sasori, and he had just slammed his locker shut with enough force to leave the door vibrating. He whipped himself around and leered at Nezumi. "What are you doing here?" he roared.
"…Good morning to you, too, Sasori."
"You're not supposed to be here now! You come in early!"
"What can I say? Sometimes even I get the urge to take part in the morning powwow," he said with a shrug.
"You are not wanted here."
"You wound me, Sasori. Whatever did I do to deserve such unabashed hatred?"
Angela stifled a snicker. She closed her locker and made her way toward the lab.
"Do not play dumb with me. You know very well what you do." He pointed rabidly in Angela's direction.
Ah, that.
Angela had her hand resting on a piece of machinery before the lab door and was reciting the pledge to it in a clear monotone. Every day they had to do this, and every day he saw his coworkers come in with that kill-me-now look on their faces. They obviously did not enjoy saying the pledge, and probably didn't even realize why they didn't enjoy it, and yet they did it with no questions asked.
How can they stand it? he always asked himself.
But he knew the answer. It was because they had no choice. Either you announce your allegiance to the city every morning, or you lose your job and get arrested for dissidence. He knew the answer, but that didn't mean he had to act like a mindless zombie.
He had taken to embellishing the pledge. A couple weeks after starting in the lab he discovered that if you continued talking without pausing for more than two seconds, the machine wouldn't register you as finished and kept recording. Mostly he just recited it with affected reverence, but sometimes, if he had happened to hit upon a particularly good idea, he would add his own lines. He understood the danger of treating the pledge so flippantly. He might've had a decent amount of leeway with the city, but he didn't think they would stand him mocking the government in front of an audience. So he took care to only do so when he was sure he was alone.
Unfortunately, a week or so back, Sasori had come in uncharacteristically early and caught him in the middle of promising his first-born to the city. Apparently they did not share a sense of humor.
"Your blasphemy reflects badly on all of us," Sasori growled once Angela disappeared into the lab. "You may be content with your life of debauchery, but everyone else in this building is invested in the prosperity of No. 6. If you continue your sacrilege, it will only be a matter of time before the Security Bureau comes in to investigate, and I will not allow the majority to be inconvenienced by the insolence of one."
"I get it, calm down. Geez. How do you even talk like that without getting embarrassed? I'll do it properly this time. There's no need to have a coronary."
Sasori watched Nezumi like a hawk as he made his way to the hall and took his place in front of the ID reader. Nezumi noticed that Sasori hadn't moved from his spot in front of the lockers, but continued to assess him from a distance. The man always spoke of him and to him like he was evil incarnate, and treated him like an infectious disease. Nezumi didn't resent him for it; he actually found Sasori's poor regard for him amusing. It meant it was easy to push his buttons, and when he was stuck in a lab doing grunt work, getting a rise out of Sasori was about the only entertainment he had some days. But only some days, because talking to him was as equally tiring as it was funny.
When he had positioned himself directly before the machine, an image of City Hall displayed itself on its monitor.
"Good morning," said a soothing female voice. "Your unwavering allegiance to the city," it prompted.
He placed his hand over the display and cleared his throat. "I pledge hereon and ever my unwavering allegiance to the city of No. 6," he recited in his best obedient No. 6 citizen monotone.
He raised his eyebrows at Sasori to say, "There. Happy?" but the man's expression was burning with such self-righteousness that Nezumi couldn't bear to leave it at that.
He kept his eyes trained on Sasori as he went on with growing reverence, "And ask that it continue to look favorably upon me and all my coworkers. Most especially my good friend, Sasori,"—Sasori's eyes bulged—"who is always so kind to me, and gives me such wonderful advice and guidance about how to best express my admiration for this Oh so Holy City."
Sasori's already grey complexion had managed to turn even more ashen. He trembled visibly and gaped at Nezumi like a suffocating fish. He almost managed speech, but his body received the signals from his brain faster than his mouth, and he bolted from the room without a syllable.
Nezumi smirked while he brought the speech to a satisfying finish. "Lastly, I ask that my dear, sweet grandmother be delivered into the next life as swiftly as possible. If No. 6 could grant this small trifle, at the very least, I would be eternally grateful." He removed his hand from the emblem.
"Our gratitude for your loyalty," the voice droned. "Engage in your day's labor with sincerity and pride as a good citizen of the City."
The door to the lab slid open. Nezumi drew in a long, slow breath and entered with a smile. As he approached his desk, he noticed there was a park maintenance robot next to it.
About time they asked for these things to be fixed.
He grabbed the folder from the metal bin on his desk and scanned the papers inside. There were always one or two folders on every person's desk in the morning. Inside them was all the work they were expected to complete. Allegedly, this was done in the interest of efficiency, but Nezumi always suspected it was so the technicians didn't have to waste time interacting with each other if they didn't want to.
Just as he predicted, the file instructed him to edit the robot's programming. The robots were supposed to be able to record and recognize any object after picking it up once. Despite this, it seemed they were sending an absurd amount of "indistinguishable object" errors back to the Park Administration Office's computers. He logged on to his own computer and began sorting through the program code.
The comments in the file dictated that he was to fix the machines so they would record the data better and the "indistinguishable object" errors would stop coming up after a while. He frowned. That was easier said than done. He could certainly fine-tune the robots so that they could adapt and record well enough to cut down on the amount of errors, but eliminating the messages altogether was close to impossible if they wanted the robots to work autonomously. Who's to say what is or what isn't trash? The program did need to be fixed, but he also felt that the system for how they dealt with the objects needed to be adjusted.
It might be good if—
"Lab Rat."
Nezumi directed his attention to the man at the desk diagonal to his. He didn't know the man's name, and he was fairly certain the man didn't know his real name either. He was the type of person for which the folder-on-the-desk-when-you-get-in custom was made.
"The Chief wants to see you."
"Oh."
Nezumi waited a second, after which he came to terms with the fact that he had no reason not to go to the Chief's office immediately. He set off toward the office, and his passing garnered a few looks. His mere presence in the lab seemed to irk his coworkers. He had only worked there for a few months, and yet he had already been to the Section Chief's office several times on account of complaints filed against him. The Chief would only give him a gruff warning and send him on his way, which increased his coworkers' loathing.
Most of the attention he got as he walked by was fleeting frowns or eye rolls, but Angela was full on smirking when he crossed in front of her desk. He winked at her and her smirk slackened.
He knocked twice on the Chief's door and waited.
"Come in."
The Chief was going over paperwork at his desk. He was a large man with meaty fingers, a cue ball head, and a bushy mustache. He was farsighted, but he didn't like people to know it, so he never wore his glasses except for when he had to. However, Nezumi only ever had the pleasure of seeing him in his office when he was reading papers. Nezumi had never seen a sea lion up-close, but he imagined that the Chief looked very like one wearing glasses.
The Chief peered at him. "You saw the robot at your desk?"
"Yes. I started to work on it already."
"Mm." The Chief marked something down on the paper he was leering at.
"I have a suggestion to improve the Forest Park robots."
"That so?" the man sniffed.
Nezumi ignored his lack of enthusiasm. "The robots are pretty good at picking up trash, but they can't identify objects that aren't trash." He didn't know how well versed the Chief was in the park maintenance problem, but he decided starting from the basics was best. "That's where the majority of complaints about the 'indistinguishable object' errors come from. Hats, scarves, toys, things that have been dropped accidently most of the time, and that the Park Administration workers have to go collect. So, I was thinking we could tweak the robots' program a little, but still allow them to send back errors on items that aren't obviously trash. Then we could construct robots, or just use a few of the ones we already have, and upload a code that is specifically designed to send them to collect and hold the lost items."
The Chief stared blankly at him.
"Essentially, what I'm suggesting is a lost and found," Nezumi said.
"Can't you just fix the robots?"
Why do I even bother?
"…I can do that, yes."
"Then do that."
Nezumi folded his arms and waited. The Chief continued leafing through his papers as though he wasn't standing there.
"Is there something you wanted from me?" Nezumi asked at length, and then just barely tagged "sir" on the end. He got away with a lot, but baiting his boss might be pushing it.
The man grunted. "Yes. While you're fixing the program, I want you to set it up so that it alerts the Security Bureau directly if the robots come across any non-living organisms."
What the hell? Does he expect to find dead bodies in the park?
The Chief seemed displeased by his failure to immediately accept the order and skip off to do his bidding.
"Some kids found a dead cat in the park yesterday. It scared them and the Bureau doesn't want it to happen again."
Still weird, he thought, but aloud he said, "I see," and then excused himself.
By the time he plopped back down at his desk his previously good mood was destroyed. It grew steadily worse as soon as he realized that none of the robots had any records of cats in their entry logs. There were birds, and dogs, and all a manner of insects, but no cats.
It must have come up as one of these error notifications. Just my luck. What kind of cat goes into the Forest Park to die? How'd it even get into the park?
No. 6 had a strict policy about keeping pets under control at all times. Inside the city walls, only indoor pets were allowed. Dogs were to be leashed outside of the home, and cats were not allowed outside at all, let alone in the park. Occasionally one would see posters advertising a lost pet, but the animal was eventually found one hundred percent of the time. He never heard of a cat—or anything, really—dying in a public setting.
I suppose that's why the Bureau finds it so necessary to make sure it doesn't happen again. Can't have such a ghastly sight ruining the citizens' perfect days. Still…
His fingers pecked at the keyboard.
This is infuriating! I have to input the physical parameters for a cat into the system. This is going to take forever.
Someone approached his desk. This didn't concern him, as it was typical for people to drop files off. Usually it was Sasori, because he was Nezumi's direct supervisor—to the man's ever-present chagrin.
"I've brought some files that might be of use to you."
The voice was not Sasori's. Nezumi tore his gaze away from the screen and was met with a pair of clear, dark eyes. The man before him was one of the few people in the lab who didn't despise him, and whose guts Nezumi didn't hate. Nezumi hadn't paid him much attention when he first started, but when the other technicians began to ridicule him as a 'Lab Rat,' this man was the only person who dared speak up against it. His defense wasn't needed, but Nezumi had always appreciated the effort. They had hardly crossed paths since that time, and even when they did, they never shared anything more intimate than a greeting.
Some of the technicians pitied the man because he was crippled and wheelchair-bound. Moreover, he came off a little like a whipped dog whenever he interacted with people. But Nezumi had witnessed liveliness in his demeanor when he worked alone at his desk. He was embarrassed to admit it, but this man was yet another coworker whose name he didn't know. He never needed to know it, but when he occasionally thought of him, he always referred to him respectfully as 'Rou.'
Rou's face was benign as he placed a hefty manila folder on the edge of Nezumi's desk.
"Oh. Thanks… Why are you delivering files to me? Where's Sasori?"
"Ah, yes, well, he was here earlier, but he seems to have become suddenly and violently ill. He called in sick a little while ago."
"Is that so? That's too bad. I hope he feels better soon."
"Yes. So I've taken it upon myself to bring these to you."
"Thanks."
Nezumi bowed his head at the older man and swiveled back toward his computer. He typed a few lines before he realized Rou hadn't left.
"Is there something else?"
"There is," Rou muttered.
He took a moment to collect his thoughts. When he found his words at last, Rou's face grew serious.
"Takashi, you're still very young. You shouldn't work so hard. Perhaps, since Sasori is out today, you could also take the day off. Spend some time with your friends."
Nezumi blinked. Where is this coming from?
"Yeah… Maybe," he managed to say without too much incredulity. "But I just got a huge project from Park Administration, so I think I should probably finish it first."
"The maintenance robots? There's always a problem with those. It won't make much a difference if you leave it for one day."
The discomfort Nezumi was feeling must have been quite clear by this point, because all at once Rou's earnestness splintered, and he reverted back to his typical meek demeanor.
"It's just that…" he fumbled. "Don't you think you should spend less time in the labs? You're here far too often. It's not healthy. I just think that you should do something… more with your time. Take some time to do something you enjoy."
Something I enjoy? Nezumi couldn't help but smile wanly at that.
"But working is my passion, didn't you know? No. 6 told me, so it must be true."
Rou's expression underwent a second change; one very much alike to Sasori's that morning. The blood drained from his face, so that it was almost as white as his hair, and there was fear in his dark eyes.
"Takashi. Please. Be more careful."
And with that whispered warning, he turned his wheels and rolled away. Nezumi frowned.
What was that all about? We hardly talk, and then he dumps that on me. I must've looked pretty pitiful, if Rou suddenly felt so strong a need to deliver a grandfather spiel about wasting my youth.
He dragged the folder of papers Rou had brought him in front of his keyboard and opened it to the first page. There was a sticky note on the first sheet, which read, "Be cautious" in clunky script. He raised an eyebrow and flipped through a few of the pages. He furrowed his brow. He glanced at his computer screen and then back at the files.
They're the same.
Rou had delivered hard copies of the maintenance robots' data logs. Nezumi read the sticky note on the first page again.
Rou didn't seem the type to joke, so for whatever reason he thought the note was necessary. Had Sasori squealed about his pledge antics?
Or maybe he's really concerned that I'm going to screw up the project…? That kinda pisses me off. I don't have time for this. I need to code for fricking cat recognition.
He pushed the folder to the edge of his desk and the encounter from his mind, and turned back to the program on his computer.
The weather report chimed on his ID, informing him that there was a chance of rain later that evening. He ignored it and craned his neck back to stare up at the cloud spotted sky. He was lounging on a park bench in the flower garden, and had been doing so for several minutes now. Work ended at five, but he had persevered in his project until six. After that point he had hit his limit. He clocked out and found himself once again in the flower garden. The sounds of life were all around him; birds chirping, children laughing, a dog barked somewhere nearby. It was an ambiance befitting of No. 6's last paradise on Earth reputation.
"Thinking about flying away?"
Nezumi lifted his head. A familiar tanned youth was smirking at him. Their hair hung loosely over the shoulders of their overlarge sweatshirt all the way down to the top of their baggy jeans. He supposed the choice of clothing was entirely for the sake of personal preference and comfort, however, the small form looked even more diminutive and androgynous for it. Their dark eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Hate to break it to you, but you have zero chance of sprouting wings. It doesn't matter how hard you wish; rats were made to crawl on the ground."
Nezumi sat up and draped his arm over the back of the bench. "Well, if it isn't Kaoru. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Kaoru snorted. "Pup needed a walk."
Always with the dog.
At the sound of its name, a young Border collie trotted over. It wedged its head between Nezumi's knees and panted up at him. Kaoru clicked their tongue. Nezumi smiled and ruffled the fur atop the dog's head. He didn't have a particular fondness for dogs, however, Kaoru's dog had chosen to become friendly towards him for some reason or another. He suspected it had to do with a certain incident a few months ago.
He had been on his way home from work, when he passed by a group of three children. It was obvious that two girls were bullying the one other kid, but he had no intention of intervening. He had more or less sworn off amicable interaction since Hiro, and besides, he was a firm believer in letting people solve their own problems.
"We only wanted to pet your stupid dog! Why do you have to be such a freak?"
One of the girls shoved the mousy kid hard enough to knock them over, but their victim refused to take it lying down. "Give him back, you piece of shit!"
It was the use of the expletive that caused him pause. The kid didn't look like much, but they had spirit. The girl at whom the insult was directed was the prissiest thing he had ever seen. Her pink dress and matching hair ribbons screamed princess complex. She angled her body away and Nezumi could see there was a small black something wriggling in her arms.
"You don't deserve him," the princess sneered. "You should just go die."
He had been determined not to get involved, but he found himself getting annoyed at the direction the bullying was going.
"Hey!" Nezumi shouted. The girls jumped. "If you're going to tell other people to go die, you better be prepared to die yourselves."
He took a step toward them, and barely a second elapsed before the prissy ringleader said, "Let's go!" and the girls scattered in opposite directions. He scowled. The kid on the ground had stayed put and was now trembling visibly. He approached them, but before he could say anything, the child climbed to their feet and fixed him with the most venomous glare he had ever received.
"Why couldn't you mind your own goddamn business?"
Nezumi blinked.
"Because of you that tramp Emi got away with my dog! Jackass," they spat, pushing past him and sprinting in the same direction as the prissy girl.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't surprised by such a thorough rebuff of his good graces, but recovery was quick, and he took the encounter as a sign that he was better off paying as little attention to other people's problems as possible. He continued his trek back to Chronos. When he stumbled upon the same belligerent youth loitering outside the Chronos gate, he took his own advice to heart and walked by them without so much as a glance.
The kid sputtered when they saw him. "You! Hey! Don't pretend you don't see me, asshole!"
Nezumi paused and turned lazily to face them.
The kid leered at him. "Shoulda known you were elite," they muttered darkly.
"I'm also trying to mind my own goddamn business, so if you don't mind." He moved to leave.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" They dashed in front of him. "Get me into Chronos."
Nezumi cocked an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"
"Because it's your fault Emi got away with my dog, that's why."
Nezumi considered this for a moment, eyeing the youth speculatively. "Alright. I'll help you—for a price."
Their face twisted into a look of deep disgust. "You greedy bastard! You live in Chronos, what do you need money for?" Nezumi shrugged. They grit their teeth and took an aggressive step forward. "I ain't paying you a cent. You're the one who owes me."
Nezumi scoffed that he didn't see how he was honor bound to do anything. The youth continued to snarl and curse at him until he finally broke under the pressure and a faint sense of guilt. Mostly, though, he had felt a sickening sense of regret for attempting to do a good deed in the first place.
"Fine. I got it. I'll help you get your mutt."
"You're damn right you will," they seethed.
"Geez. Is that any way for a kid to talk? Where'd you learn your manners? West Block?"
"I ain't a kid, and I could kick your pretty boy ass any day."
They glowered at him. The more he looked at the unrelenting ball of hatred, the less they seemed like a kid at all; the youth more resembled a stray, with their messy hair and ill-fitting clothing. He bit back his retort and asked them to tell him more about the brat who took their dog while they walked.
"Emi," the kid spat. "She thinks she's the fricking queen just because she lives with her Mama in Chronos, but her dad is just an ordinary Lost Town shmuck, so I don't know where she gets off thinking the whole world should bow down and kiss the ground she walks on. She ran over here because she knew I wouldn't be able to get in. I swear, when I get my hands on her…"
As it turned out, they didn't need to search very long. Wherever Emi meant to go she didn't get very far. She seemed to have found it difficult to run with a puppy biting at her arms. They found her barely past the gate, standing in the middle of the street, and trying to coax the dog to settle down.
The kid hissed at the sight, but Nezumi ignored their fuming and called out to Emi by name. When Emi saw him, she looked scared, and when she noticed his company, she looked scared and confused.
"W-what do you want?"
"I want my dog back, you fat cow!"
He had known that the kid was younger than him, but the childishness of their name-calling seemed to imply that they were even younger than he anticipated. They leered when he held up a hand to stay them.
"What my foul-mouthed friend here meant to say was would you be so kind as to return that dog?"
Emi recoiled at the sound of his voice. "Figures you would be friends with someone like him. You're even more of a freak than I thought." She spoke only to the kid, as though he wasn't there.
Nezumi realized then that Emi must have known him by reputation. There wasn't a moment when he was popular among the Chronos crowd, and as he grew less compliant by the year, kids were warned to stay away from him almost as often they chose to ignore him. It was no matter. He took a deep breath.
"Thank goodness you're alright!" he gushed. "I was so worried it would be too late."
Emi finally looked at him. "What? Too late for what?"
"Ah, well…" Nezumi sighed tragically. "Apparently the dogs from Lost Town are just as inferior as the people."
"What did you say?" the kid growled.
"It's sad, really, because I think the dog would be ten times happier with you than with this mangy Lost Town brat."
The owner of the dog was irate to the point of speechlessness. Emi looked lost. Her eyes went from the kid to him several times, but she couldn't seem to decide on a reaction.
Nezumi gave Emi an earnest look. "Emi, that puppy you're holding is very sick. That's why I came to find you. As a fellow Chronos elite, I couldn't stand by and let that dog throw up on you."
Not the most dignified approach, but it worked wonders against prissy little girls.
Emi's eyes widened. "What?"
"This kid told me that dog is sick and was throwing up all afternoon," Nezumi continued. "While we were looking for you, they wouldn't stop talking about how much they hoped the dog had puked on you."
Emi grimaced and held the dog away from her. The puppy whimpered.
"He has diarrhea, too," the kid added, catching on at the last second.
Emi's face contorted into a look of revulsion and she all but dropped the dog on the ground. "You're such gross freaks!" she yelled, and then scurried off.
"She has an appallingly limited vocabulary for a Gifted Curriculum applicant," Nezumi remarked.
But the kid was too engrossed in examining their puppy to have heard. He didn't want to deal with the aftermath and so he left them without another word.
A week or so after the incident, he recognized them when they passed each other on the street in Lost Town. He pretended he didn't know them, however, and walked by. The next thing he knew, there was a fluffy black and white puppy barking at him and hopping around his legs. He frowned at its owner.
"What?" they said indignantly. "I can't control this guy's impulses. I was gonna pretend I didn't see you and keep walking, but Pup insisted on thanking you."
If it wasn't for their bitter expression, he might've suspected that they were trying to be coy. However, it seemed they were genuinely displeased, and he also got a strong feeling that they would find such pretenses sickening.
"'Pup?' That's its name? How terribly uninspired."
The youth's face twitched as though they had been expecting a sarcastic answer all along. "What's yours?" they accused.
"Nezumi."
They sneered. "It's one thing to give a dog an unimaginative name, but it's whole new realm of stupid to call yourself something as idiotic as 'Nezumi.' Is that supposed to be impressive?"
"It's not supposed to be anything. It's a name." He pivoted on his heel and walked away.
In the months since their first encounter, he and Kaoru had only talked a handful of times, and even then, their interactions typically consisted more of insults than actual conversing. He didn't want to get close to anyone, but Kaoru had absolutely no intention of becoming friends. They had displayed their dislike of him enough times for him to believe it. The two of them didn't speak to each other with enough frequency or affability for him to feel Kaoru was in danger of being arrested by the Bureau, so whenever luck would have it, and he and Kaoru were feeling sociable at the same time, he lent himself to their company.
Pup swished his tail back and forth, but after he realized that Nezumi had finished petting him, he wandered away. He was engrossed in sniffing the base of the fountain in no time. Nezumi returned his gaze to Kaoru.
"Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not buying."
"Selling? What are you talking about? I'm not selling anything."
"No? Some gossip you couldn't wait to talk about, then?" He smiled wanly. "Or has the day finally come that you're here just to wish me a fabulous evening?"
Kaoru's face soured. They turned their head away and watched Pup as he sniffed at a maintenance robot. Nezumi crossed his legs and waited.
"Some kids found a dead body here yesterday."
Nezumi blinked. "A body? Yesterday?"
"Yeah. Some old guy crawled behind a bench and bit the dust. A couple of kids from Lost Town found him. Apparently the Security Bureau rushed over and wasted no time moving the body. The kids who found the guy said his face was all contorted and he looked like he'd been dead a while, but the Bureau claimed it was just an accident and told them not to talk about it. It's all very hush-hush. Weird, huh?"
Nezumi frowned in concentration as he listened. It was an interesting piece of gossip, albeit not extraordinarily strange. Old people died, often suddenly; that was a fact of life.
Hm. But I understand now why the Security Bureau gave such a weird order this morning.
"Did he have a cat?"
"What?" The question was left field enough that Kaoru bothered to consider it. "No, they didn't say anything about a cat... What kind of weird question is that, anyway?"
"It just seems like a lot of things are dying in the Forest Park lately. It's nothing, forget I even asked."
Kaoru shook their head, as if to dispel the exchange. "So? What do you think?" They smirked. "Could it have been a hit?"
Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "What are you babbling about?"
"Come on, dead body in the park, the Security Bureau trying to keep it secret. I woulda thought you'd be screaming conspiracy theories by now."
Nezumi's wariness around people in general had caused several persons to accuse him of superiority. There were also other less vindictive souls who chalked it up to crippled social skills, or a mental disturbance caused by his parents' deaths that never quite healed. No one knew the full extent of his paranoia and suspicion regarding No. 6 and its institutions, but Kaoru was the first to come close to realizing it.
Despite the limited amount of time they spent together, Kaoru had picked up on his poor opinion of the school system and was well acquainted with his dislike of the Security Bureau. They never failed to mock him about it, and whenever they did, Nezumi felt a familiar pang in his chest. He dared not react to or entertain their ridicule. He and Kaoru were not friends, but that didn't mean he wouldn't feel horrible if they suddenly vanished because of him.
Nezumi shrugged. "Sounds like your run of the mill old-person death to me."
"But what about how his face was all contorted? Isn't everyone in No. 6 supposed to die a peaceful and painless death? He obviously didn't."
"Oh, please, don't tell me you actually believe that?" Nezumi chuckled. "It's impossible for everyone to die a completely peaceful and painless death. No. 6 is good, but not that good. No one is. Of course the old man's face was pained. He probably suffered a heart attack. If you suddenly went into cardiac arrest while taking a walk in the park, I don't think you'd die smiling either."
Kaoru lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Nezumi studied the lines of concern on their face and smirked.
"You know, Kaoru, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you look scared. Is that why you rushed over here to tell me? To have your fears laid to rest?"
"Don't be ridiculous," they scoffed.
"What's wrong? Been having chest pains lately?"
"That's not even a funny joke. Like I'd be concerned over something like that. I'm young—younger than you. There's no way I'm dying anytime soon."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You know… There's another possibility for the old man's death. It could've been a virus. Have you ever heard of the Black Plague? It's said that it struck so suddenly that you could be young and healthy one moment, and dead the next."
Kaoru stared intently at him. Nezumi's smirk grew more pronounced. Kaoru clicked their tongue and turned away.
"The Black Plague doesn't exist anymore," Kaoru said, crossing their arms.
"Mutated strains pop back up now and then. The elderly are the first to go. Then come the children."
Kaoru looked askance at him and pursed their lips. "Well, if people did start dropping dead of the Black Plague, it'd be because No. 6 let a rat in."
"You're mistaken. Plague doesn't come from rats; it comes from the fleas that infest them."
"Hmph. Fine, I'm only too happy to get out of your hair." They clapped twice and Pup came bounding over. "Say hi to the old lady for me," they jabbed as they moved to leave.
Nezumi grimaced. Right. Kaoru knows about that, too.
"Kaoru." The youth didn't bother turning, but looked over their shoulder. "Don't go talking to too many people about that body."
Kaoru raised an eyebrow.
"Not everyone finds death a comfortable topic," he added by way of explanation.
"Since when did you start caring about other people's feelings?"
"Good point," Nezumi chuckled. He got to his feet and walked over to them.
"What do you think you're doing?" Kaoru said dryly.
"I can tell I made you angry. In penance, I have decided to escort you home." He bowed and offered his hand. "My liege."
Kaoru rolled their eyes and walked away. "You just don't wanna go home."
Nezumi didn't deny it.
Pup trotted ahead of them. Even though citizens weren't allowed to let their dogs roam free, ever since Pup had been trained, Kaoru hardly ever bothered leading him around with a leash. Their relationship was based on friendship and respect, rather than ownership. Kaoru didn't walk Pup; they took walks with Pup. That being said, Kaoru always brought a leash with them to keep up appearances and sometimes they even latched it onto the dog's collar. It was hooked on Pup's collar at that moment, but he was walking himself, the end of the leash dangling out the side of his mouth.
The people in Lost Town had already settled down to dinner. Restaurants remained open, but almost every other shop had closed their doors for a brief respite. The streets were nearly empty and would not regain their usual flow until suppertime ended.
A Law Enforcement officer marched around the corner on the opposite side of the road. Like the Security Bureau, these officers were of a branch of the Public Safety Department. Essentially it was a sect made up of people who had aimed to be in the Security Bureau, but fell short. To vent their frustration, they patrolled the Lost Town streets with a self-important vengeance. They lived purely to harass children for breaking curfew, and validated their existences with the compliments they received from elderly women for their exceptional work doing so.
"Officer," Nezumi said to Kaoru.
Kaoru spotted him a second after and gasped. "Pup! Stop!"
Pup had been poking around the entrance of an alleyway, but when he heard his master's command his ears shot up. The leash dropped from his mouth and he took off. Kaoru jogged doggedly after him, but at the rate they were going, they wouldn't catch up. The noise had drawn the Law Enforcement officer's attention and he watched from the corner with a disapproving look on his face. Pup stopped a ways up the street and wagged his tail happily.
Kaoru stopped where they were as well and cupped their hands to call to him, "Pup! Come!"
They clapped their hands twice, and Pup loped back down to them, the leash bouncing on the stones behind him. Nezumi shook his head. He had seen this performance before.
Kaoru bent down to pick up the leash and the dog lapped at their hands. "Great job," they whispered, ruffling the fur on Pup's head.
"Excuse me." The officer had made his way over and was standing in front of them now. He was a squat man, barely a head taller than Kaoru. "Pets are required to be leashed at all times."
"I'm sorry, sir. I was holding his leash, but he just took off."
Kaoru wasn't a very good liar, but fortunately their nervousness helped to make them seem more like the frail child they were pretending to be. Even so, the officer was unmoved.
"How old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"Sixteen," Nezumi provided when the officer looked at him.
"Your number. Both of you."
Aren't you at least going to buy us dinner first? The quip was on Nezumi's tongue. On any other day he would have said it; he had said similar things when officers stopped him before.
"Pw-34109," Kaoru answered immediately. They held out their wrist for the officer to scan.
Nezumi glanced at them. He never got in trouble for sassing the officers that stopped him, which was yet more evidence of No. 6's bias. It's probably not a good idea while Kaoru's here, though…
Nezumi pursed his lips. "CVC-00103221." He offered a limp wrist to the man.
The officer looked down at the reading his machine gave him. His eyes went to Nezumi's face, and he fixed him with a dirty expression.
"Miss Kaoru, is it?"
Kaoru shifted.
"You seem like a nice girl. You should spend your time with better role models."
Kaoru smiled weakly.
"It's almost curfew. You should be getting home."
It's barely seven. Curfew isn't for another two hours.
"Why don't you let me walk you there?"
Kaoru looked inclined to accept.
Kaoru's not a threat. It's unlikely anything will happen to them.
Even so, his heart beat faster. Nezumi took a step forward, wrapped his arm around Kaoru's shoulders, and pulled them to his side. Kaoru gasped, but he didn't know who was more surprised, them or Pup, whose leash had suddenly been yanked back.
"Sorry," Nezumi said blithely, "but I told her father I'd take her back home. And besides, you're right, it's far too close to curfew time, so we really must be going. Come along, Kaoru."
He dragged them along with him as he walked away from the officer. He glanced back before they turned the corner, but the man had disappeared.
Kaoru wriggled free from underneath his arm. "Are you insane? You can't talk that way to a Law Enforcement officer."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine," they snapped. "Couldn't you have waited for a time when I wasn't there to run your mouth? It's bad enough Pup and I almost got caught, but talking back to an officer can get you arrested. I know you don't give a shit, but there's no way I'm gonna let myself get locked up because of you. Come on, Pup."
They shook the leash to get the dog's attention and stalked off.
Technically those under the under the age of eighteen weren't allowed out past nine, but he had his ways. The majority of days he stayed in the lab until he felt like going home, but coffee shops were open until eleven on weekdays, and eleven-thirty on weekends. He decided to spend the rest of the night in the tea and coffee shop, Lotus, watching movies on his ID display until closing time. Unfortunately, the only movies he could find in the public library were sappy love stories, featuring flat characters with zero chemistry and predictable endings. Every film made post-No. 6 was equally as frivolous. Censorship laws were so heavily enforced that generic romances were practically the only options.
By the time the barista kicked him out, he had spent an outrageous amount of money on coffee and tea, and wasted four hours on two mind numbingly boring movies. It was a little after eleven when he returned to the house. He climbed the trellis in the garden and swung onto his balcony. The doors were supposed to be locked, but he never bothered. The old woman used to lock them while he was out, but doing so meant that an alarm would go off when he tried to get back in late at night. She lasted only three days before she decided that her sleep was more important than trying to make a show of authority.
He slipped down into the kitchen to make dinner. The old woman went to bed around ten, so the house was dark. He turned on no more lights and appliances than was necessary for his task and went through the pantry and refrigerator to make an inventory. In the end, he decided to make chicken and rice soup.
Once the soup had finished cooking, he apportioned some into a bowl and placed the rest in the fridge for lunch tomorrow. He carried the it up to his room and lounged on his bed, drinking in the dark, as well as the savory flavor of the broth. The moon outside the window was halved. He watched it until the spoon made a porcelain clink on the bottom of the empty bowl. He laid it aside and went to the bookshelf behind his bed. His hand found the book he wanted instantly: Eat Healthy, Live Happy.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. I can't believe Hiro actually read this junk.
He flipped it open to the center and removed the slip of paper that had been pressed between the pages. The etching on the sheet emoted boldly in the moonlight:
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
He mouthed the words as he read along. He had read them so many times that he could recite them without the use of the paper. But seeing the words written calmed him. When he had finished, he replaced the paper, returned the book to its spot on the shelf, and crawled into bed.