Hello! What's this, you ask? I will be away on vacation with no internet access, and I didn't want to disappear with no chapter, so double update! As always, thanks, everyone, for your support and comments!
The man burst through the doors and strode into the lobby of the Correctional Facility. His position as mayor of a quiet and prosperous city made it so he hardly had to journey outside the walls unless he wished it, and he had only entered the Correctional Facility a handful of times in the past few decades.
He preferred to keep a distance between himself and the activities of the research team. It wasn't as though it would hurt his reputation to be seen visiting every so often—it might've even raised him more in the citizens' esteem to show he kept an active interest in the health and progress of the city—but he felt the goings-on of the building were beneath him. He appreciated the benefits he reaped from their efforts, but he had no desire to sully his hands by frequent contact.
But the current circumstances made it absolutely necessary that he visit that day. He clutched the newspaper he held in his hand. This was a conversation that must be had in person.
A young woman leapt out of her chair and scrambled around her desk to hurry toward him. She was plump and her lips were painted a bright shade of red that he thought looked horrendous against her pasty complexion. She bobbed her head to him in greeting, and he chalked it up to years of practiced civility that he managed to only look grave instead of thoroughly disgusted.
"Mr. Mayor, sir, welcome. It's so good to see you. It's such an honor for you to come down here when things are so—"
The man's eyes narrowed slightly and she swallowed her words.
"With you being so busy, and all," she fumbled. "It's really an honor, sir."
"Yes, well." The man gave her a political smile. "As we discussed on the phone, this is not merely a courtesy call. If you'll pardon my frankness, would you be so kind as to show me to his room? It's a matter of urgency."
"Oh! Yes, of course. Right this way, sir."
The heels of the woman's shoes made quick little clicking sounds as she led him down the hall. They passed a few doors along the way and through their small windows he could see several white-coated men and women bustling to and fro.
I can only hope they're working to find a way to fix this mess, he thought bitterly.
She stopped at a door and tapped in a code on the adjacent keypad. It was almost completely silent when the door closed behind them. A few rooms later, she approached a second door and typed in the code to open it.
"He's just inside here, sir."
The room into which he was led was stark white and impeccably clean. There was hardly a thing in it, apart from an IV stand and a bed. A man lay in a heap under the covers. He wore nothing but a white hospital gown and the plainness of it made his features more conspicuous. His hair was a coarse white, even though he was not quite so far in age, and there were red marks winding up the length of the man's face, slashing one vivid streak across his chin while another band disappeared under the bandages over his left eye.
So it's true, the man sneered as he took in the changes in his old friend. How repulsive.
"We weren't able to save the eye, but the surgery went well; no complications whatsoever," the woman said cheerily. "And as for the room, none but the most trusted medical staff is allowed in this area. He's in good hands; we're just as well equipped as any hospital within the city. You can expect that with the proper rest and care, he'll make a full recovery and be back to work in two to six weeks." She looked especially proud to be giving him this news.
"Wake him up."
The courteous smile slipped off the woman's face. "Excuse me—sir?"
"I need to speak to him."
"He's still recovering from the anesthetic. He should be up in a few hours—"
"Immediately."
She quailed at the authority in his voice. "Y-yes, sir. Right away, sir."
She fluttered over to a cabinet at the opposite end of the room and fiddled with the contents. His eyes followed her as she crossed to the IV stand and stuck a syringe into the tube's applicator.
"How long until he wakes up?"
"A minute?" she answered quietly.
He nodded. "Thank you for your hard work. I'll call you if I need anything."
The woman cast a nervous glance between him and her patient and then scurried off. The man stalked toward the bed, alternating the newspaper in his hands as he waited.
The bedridden man jolted. His eyelid fluttered open and he blinked blearily at the ceiling.
"Can you talk?"
The other man lifted his head to leer at his visitor. He did not answer immediately. His eye roamed a little to the side and he reached up to feel the bandage over his head. Finally, his hand dropped back down onto the bedspread and he opened his mouth.
"I… Yes."
"Good." The man flung the newspaper he held as hard as he could into the patient's chest. "What the hell happened!"
The hapless victim flinched back and made a face at this brusque treatment.
"Thirty-eight people in the hospital! Twenty-two of which were not on your samples list. Two died from complications, and now their families, and every other person in the godforsaken city, is whining at my door."
The bedridden man didn't appear to be listening. He turned aside and peered at the IV. "Did you give me Ritalin?"
"The citizens are in a panic! They want answers and I have absolutely no explanation to give them!"
The other man held the paper close to his face to read. "Something went wrong."
"You think?" the man scoffed. "I thought you had this under control. You said the tests were going well, and now this. The Project is over! Everything I've worked for these past twelve years has been ruined."
"Everything you've worked for?" The hospital gown crinkled as the man sat up in bed, exposing his red, scar smeared throat. "This was my life's work. Do you think I planned for this to happen? I was not on my samples list." He gestured impatiently to his bandaged eye. "This is your fault."
"My fault?"
"We lost control of the Project the day you lost my primary sample."
The man's ears twitched. "Again with the sample? What was so important about that one sample? I've provided you with two elites of equal, if not more, value. Why couldn't you make do with them?"
"It's not about 'making due.' Those elites weren't compatible. That sample was perfect. His heritage had him primed for a successful eclosion. If it was him, I know it would have worked… If you really wanted the Project to be a success, you could've gotten my sample back any time in the last few months, but you frittered away every opportunity. Why haven't you eliminated those revolutionaries in West Block yet? You found out their supplier, so what's taking so long?"
"I don't expect you to understand the delicacy of the situation," the man sniffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I can't just go down there and shoot them all."
"You've done it before."
"Organized revolts must be dealt with differently. The head of the beast must be cut off, and assassinations take time as well as finesse. I already have a plan for that, but right now there is the more pressing issue of the city in uproar."
"I can't do anything about that. If it's as you say, then all my previous samples have been ruined. I still have larvae, but I'll have to begin the trials all over again. It could take years for me to find and raise a sample with the right qualifications to breed Elyurias."
"Then everything really is over."
The other man lowered himself back down onto the bed. "Perhaps not," he murmured. "There still may be a chance. The sample your revolutionaries stole had the ability to speak to Elyurias. If we could bring him back here and I had the chance to study him, I might be able to salvage the Project. Maybe."
"Maybe, huh?"
A meditative silence passed between them.
"I'll speak to Rashi, and we'll see what can be done," the man said gruffly. He glanced down at his watch and cursed. "I have a press conference this afternoon that I'm entirely unprepared for. This conversation hasn't cleared up the matter at all."
His companion nodded and rotated the arm with the IV into a more comfortable position. "It's unfortunate that I'm not able to offer you any answers at present. But I'm sure throwing the news in my face was at least of some consolation."
XXXX
Kaoru stormed along the path through the Forest Park while Pup frisked alongside them, panting merrily. It was a little past noon and the Moondrop cast a dark pall over the trees. The last traces of the meager snow that had fallen at the beginning of the week had melted away, and the weather was bitterly cold. Hardly anyone was in the Park, which was no big surprise considering everyone had been freaking out since yesterday.
Kaoru's ID pinged and blinked rapidly. They opened the message and a live feed sprung up. Speak of the devil…
Kaoru was a little surprised to see the mayor himself on screen. He hardly ever appeared in broadcasts—in the last few years, Kaoru had only seen him do so once, when he was on his way to a conference for the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Babylon Treaty. There were plenty of programs on the news that referenced the mayor's opinions and decisions, but, for the most part, he ran the city from safely inside the Moondrop.
He was nodding compassionately at his audience as people fired questions at him one after another. He raised a hand and the noise hushed.
"I understand your concern," he began in a smooth baritone. "It is only natural that you should be a little confused by what has happened, and I am very sorry to those who have a family member or friend in the hospital. But there is no need to panic. I have spoken to the medical team and we have discovered the cause of the seizures. It seems that the flour we recently acquired from outside the city had a compound which may cause an allergic reaction in some individuals."
Kaoru's brow furrowed. An allergic reaction to flour?
A startled gasp arose from the audience on the screen. The mayor raised his hand again and smiled gently.
"All the flour containing this compound has been recalled. Whatever you may have heard, I want to make it perfectly clear that the seizures the patients suffered were the result of an allergic reaction and nothing more. The condition is not contagious, and the lives of the patients are not in danger."
"But there have been two deaths already!" shouted a voice from the audience. The camera flashed to the face of a young man and then back to the podium.
The mayor nodded somberly. "Yes, that is true. My heart goes out to those families. However, both cases resulted from complications, not from the allergy itself. One of the individuals was a man of advanced years and the other had a previous heart condition. The doctors at the medical institution have examined the other patients thoroughly and declared them all in good health. The seizures, and a case of mild hallucinations in a select few, seemed to have been the worst of it. Every person who suffered these symptoms has since been stabilized, and there is nothing to worry about as to their full recovery."
"What about the white hair and these—these marks that appear on their bodies? Will they go away?"
"The physical changes are a symptom of the allergic reaction. Regrettably, they appear to be permanent, but they are not life threatening in the slightest. All of your family and friends are in good hands. They are in the care of the best and brightest doctors in the world." The mayor shuffled the papers on his podium. "We are certain that all the contaminated flour has been removed from circulation, however, while our researchers are double checking, please refrain from eating any products which may contain flour until further notice." A collective murmur rippled through the audience. "I apologize for any stress these events might have caused, and I wish all in the hospital a swift and easy recovery. Thank you for your time and understanding."
Kaoru's ID emitted a low tone and the screen blinked out. A request for confirmation that the feed had been seen and understood popped up, and they submitted the report.
Kaoru had stopped to watch the broadcast, and they stood a moment afterward to consider the information. An allergic reaction to flour…
They had seen it with their own eyes. Right in the middle of class, the teacher froze partway through his lecture and collapsed, screaming in pain. His hair turned white as he writhed on the floor and then he went still. One of the students had rushed out to get help, and when they brought back another teacher, she told them they were all dismissed for the day. Kaoru was almost certain the teacher had had some kind of freak heart attack and was dead.
And they're saying that was because of some allergic reaction? That didn't look like any allergic reaction I've ever seen. They didn't know the first thing about chemistry or allergens, and they had no other explanation as to what else it could've been, but something was off.
A couple sitting on a bench a little ways down the path were talking excitedly about how terrible the whole affair was, how sad it was for those in the hospital.
"Oh, but wasn't it nice for the mayor to give the press conference in person?" piped one of the women. "I can't imagine how busy he must be, but he really seems to care so much about the victims."
"We're lucky it wasn't worse," enthused her partner. "It's a good thing the mayor acted so quickly to remove the contaminated products. I hope he puts the supplier out of business, whoever they are."
Kaoru listened to their prattle with narrowed eyes. The couple was not alone in their praise for the mayor. Everyone in No. 6 admired him. There could be no exaggeration of his positive qualities or leadership ability. He was touted as the smartest, gentlest, and most gentlemanly of men; and if there were any citizens who thought otherwise, they had not made their opinions public. The mayor had won his position twelve years ago, and as he had not had any competitors in subsequent elections, it seemed that the city was happy enough with his leadership that they were content to let him reign indefinitely.
Kaoru didn't like the mayor at all. They had always felt there was something dishonest about a guy who only ever ran the city from the shadows, and now that they had seen him in person, they were even more convinced he was seedy. There was something about him, something about the way he carried himself and looked at the audience. He looked at people like a predator looked at prey. And his ears… When that man brought up the deaths, the mayor's ears twitched. The resolution on the display was top quality, so Kaoru knew they were not mistaken. Yet, they seemed to be the only person who wasn't buying into his act. They seemed to be the only person who found any fault with the city.
The geniocracy under which No. 6 was run had never sat well with Kaoru. Those who were naturally gifted were given priority, while the rest were shoved into Lost Town and left to fend for themselves. There was no welfare system in No. 6, only a hierarchical insurance system which operated exclusively on merit. If you did not meet the city's exorbitantly high contribution standards—standards that only a handful of the citizens were even close to fulfilling, and then only because they were genetically predisposed—then you received neither aid nor insurance. Apart from a place to live in No. 6, the lower strata of society had nothing.
Then there was the information system in the city. Nothing ever appeared on television but the weather and specials on the newest fads or food. Watching the news was like watching your brain melt, one vapid cell at a time. There had to be other things going on—they knew other things were going on.
The incident of the old man who died in Forest Park all those months ago was never reported. Kaoru supposed it wasn't particularly strange if it was just an accidental death, but even so. They'd have thought it would be worth mentioning in memorial, but the Bureau had completely brushed over it like it had never happened. Kaoru had a good nose for lies and deceit, and they were pretty sure there was something dishonest about their negligence. And now there was this announcement about allergenic flour.
This whole city reeks.
But no one ever questioned anything in No. 6. Everyone's so gullible and obedient, they just swallow whatever the news feeds them. It seems like I'm the only person who ever feels like something's off. The only other person who ever had suspicions was— Kaoru looked down at the slip of paper in their hand.
Nezumi, you piece of shit. They crumpled the paper in their fist and continued their trek down the path. Just when I thought I was finally rid of him.
XXXX
After the incident with the Law Enforcement officer, Kaoru had kept a low profile. They were home by curfew, leashed Pup in public places, and they completely avoided all of Nezumi's usual haunts. Life went on like so for a little more than a week, but since no officers ever came knocking, Kaoru assumed they hadn't been added to the Bureau's hit list.
Routine returned and Kaoru's days were once again tediously boring. They had no friends to speak of, which years of ostracism and Kaoru's own vehement dislike for the vacuity of their classmates contributed equally to. Dogs were much better than people anyway, and Pup was as stalwart and loyal as any, and more than enough company. But just because they kept their distance from people, didn't mean they were ignorant to the goings-on of the general populace, and, in fact, Kaoru's ability to see through the polished pretenses of the city gave them an added sensitivity to shifts in the balance of things.
To their chagrin, they couldn't help but notice a conspicuous lack of pests in the span of two months. They had been adamantly avoiding Nezumi, but not meeting him and not seeing him at all were two separate things. Kaoru really didn't care about it personally, but Pup had begun to look forlorn when he trotted through the Forest Park and didn't run into the resident asshole.
After a few days of paying particular attention to the shops and cafes in Lost Town, and still no sign of Nezumi, Kaoru had to admit it was suspicious. Given how flippant and generally rude he was, they had to wonder if Nezumi's luck had finally run out and the Bureau had decided to do something about that smart mouth of his. If that was the case, then fine, good riddance, but there wasn't any way of knowing for sure without checking with the Census Bureau. Kaoru wasn't especially keen on going out of their way to ask after Nezumi, but it was more annoying to be constantly wondering, so they bit the bullet and went.
"Citizen Takashi of Chronos?" the man at the reference desk droned.
Kaoru's mouth twitched into a frown. "Yeah. That's the guy."
The man cast a critical look their way, but continued clicking around on his computer. "Citizen Takashi, ID number CVC-00103221… It says here he's been transferred. Effective two months ago."
"Transferred?"
"Yes. To No. 5. Apparently, he was promoted."
Kaoru furrowed their brow.
"Will that be all, young man?" They were way too engrossed in their thoughts to do anything but nod, and the man turned back to his screen.
Transferred and promoted. Kaoru had trouble imagining that Nezumi was diligent enough at his job to earn a promotion, but stranger things had happened. Regardless, the investigation was over, Nezumi's whereabouts ascertained, and the fact that he was little more than a begrudging acquaintance made accepting that they would never meet again blissfully easy. Kaoru had made peace with Nezumi's removal.
So to say they were disturbed to receive a message from him not more than a week ago was an understatement.
The event occurred on a rather inopportune day. The long-awaited time for the return of midterm exams had arrived, and once again, Kaoru's marks in Composition were less than stellar. They were by no means the most promising student, but their progress in their other classes was never nearly as bad as this. It didn't matter what they did or how much they studied; every effort they put into trying to improve their performance in Composition ended with a more bitter disappointment.
They huffed and dragged themselves back to the pitiful little house shoved in the backend of Lost Town. The old man happened to be home when they walked in. He had a face like a canvas, gaunt and tanned, and ridged with the lines that a piddling existence as a waste disposal worker was apt to produce. It must have frustrated him to no end to have to deal with a child in addition to all the other crap he handled on a daily basis.
Kaoru shucked off their shoes and headed for the stairs to their room without planning to acknowledge him.
"Kaoru."
They stopped in their tracks and eyed the old man. "What?"
"Your midterms came back today, didn't they?"
Crap. You hardly say a word to me for weeks, and now you're taking an interest in my life?
Kaoru watched him wearily.
The old man exhaled and rose from his chair. "Let me see."
He held out his hand with an air of foreboding. Kaoru measured their options. If they refused to give him the paper, he would find out eventually when the scores were sent to him. They may already be in his email, waiting to be opened.
Kaoru sighed and dug the report out from where they'd crammed it in their backpack.
"A 67%?" The heat in his voice was palpable. His dark eyes bored into theirs. "Did you even try?" Kaoru crossed their arms and held his glare with quiet resentment. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself? No? Of course you don't," he spat.
The old man crossed to the kitchen counter and flung the paper down. "Why do I even bother? Ever since that bitch dumped you on me, all you've done is make my life difficult."
Kaoru twitched. Pup's ears perked, but they reached down to soothe him. "That's your own fault," they sneered. "I never asked you to care."
"You'll never amount to anything with grades like these," he roared, whirling around to face them. "What are you going to do if you can't get a job?"
"Just because I got one lousy grade doesn't mean my life's over. Grades don't mean everything, old man."
"They do here, and you better start taking your classes more seriously, or you can forget about ever being useful to the city."
"Fuck the city! I don't give a damn what they think!"
The old man slapped them hard across the cheek. Pup snarled viciously. For a moment, Kaoru was too shocked to react, but then a searing rage ripped through them. They swung their fist at the old man, but the second of hesitation cost them the blow. He caught their arm and pulled them close.
"You can't say those things!" he hissed.
Kaoru grit their teeth and yanked their arm out of his grip. "Don't touch me."
They turned toward the staircase. Pup continued to growl lowly as they reached Kaoru's room. Kaoru plopped down on the floor and pulled him to them. Pup whimpered and licked their stinging cheek.
"Thanks, boy," they murmured. "Who cares about that bastard, anyway? Or the city. I don't need any of them." They ran their fingers through the glossy fur on Pup's neck. "You're the only one I care about."
Pup barked and wriggled out of their grasp. Kaoru grimaced, but the offended remark died on their tongue. A small rodent had just darted into the middle of the room and was leering at them. Mice were rare, even in Lost Town, so what was one doing in their room?
What if it's some kind of surveillance tactic? Kaoru's mouth went dry. What if the house is bugged? Shit. Did they hear me?
Pup yapped at the mouse, but it remained still and unresponsive. He sniffed at it, and then took a step forward.
"Pup, no—!"
Pup scooped the rodent up in its mouth and trotted back to Kaoru, his tail swishing proudly behind him. They barely had time to protest before the mouse dropped into their lap in a moist heap. They flinched, but the feeling that something was off kept them from pitching the thing across the room.
The mouse hadn't made a sound, and it hadn't so much as moved since it first entered the room. Pup sat, his tail still flopping back and forth over the floor. Kaoru inhaled and gingerly reached down to pinch the mouse between two fingers. It was firm to the touch, and heavier than expected, but the most telling feature was the lack of warmth. Kaoru blinked and turned it over.
A robot? It was amazingly lifelike, but the cold, blank sheen of its eyes was not that of a living creature. The fear returned. It really could be a camera meant for spying on citizens. They squinted at it. There's something in its mouth. It looked like a small capsule. Kaoru plucked it from the mouse's mouth.
Suddenly, the mouse kicked. Kaoru yelped and released it. Pup began to bark excitedly and chased the mouse to the door where it scurried underneath and disappeared. Kaoru tried their best to calm the erratic beating of their heart. The capsule had fallen to the floor in their shock, and as the only clue as to what that robot was and why it was there, they felt there was no choice but to open it. Kaoru unrolled the paper stuffed inside and stared at the writing.
What the hell?
The note, penned in a dainty, but unhesitating script, read: NW Quad. Apt. 3, ask for Rikiga. –Nezumi
Kaoru's eyes widened. No way. Nezumi? That didn't make sense. Nezumi was gone. How could they be getting messages from him—and ones delivered by robotic mice at that? It was ridiculous. And what did he expect them to do with such a weird message?
Maybe it's a trick. Maybe the Security Bureau sent this so they could lure me out and arrest me. But that didn't make any logical sense. The Security Bureau didn't need to use such convoluted methods, they simply pulled up to your door and took you. No. 6 was "crimeless," so there was no court system, which meant no trial. If you were arrested, that was it; you were carted off to the Correctional Facility never to be heard from again. So then this note was real?
He wants me to go to this address? Why? Kaoru couldn't reconcile the reason in their mind; so they put the slip of paper on their desk and lay down to think.
For a week Kaoru left the note on their desk, and for a week they tried to forget about it. Nothing Nezumi-related was ever good, and getting a mysterious note with directions on it from him, when he was supposedly thousands of miles away screwing up everyone's lives in No. 5, screamed danger. They didn't owe him anything, and they certainly weren't close enough with him that they were willing to put themselves on the line to carry out a summons without an explanation. And yet a desire to get to the heart of things had always been a strong trait of Kaoru's, and in this case their nature was working decidedly against them.
This better be pretty damn good, Kaoru grumbled inwardly as they entered the apartment complex of the Northwest quadrant of the city. It was a pretty posh establishment, meant for the upper echelons of the non-Chronos citizens. As close to Chronos as regular folks could get.
Nezumi knows someone here? Kaoru frowned and bent down to secure Pup's leash.
There was an older woman sitting at the desk inside the entrance. Kaoru crept up to her and cleared their throat. "Erm… I'm here to see Rikiga?"
The woman at the desk stared at them. Kaoru shifted awkwardly.
"Sorry," the woman said after a moment. "It's just, you're not his usual visitor."
Well, at least I know that this Rikiga guy actually exists.
She tilted her head and looked at them for another long moment. Kaoru had almost decided to leave when she spoke again. "I'll need to scan your ID first and then I can buzz you in." When the woman finished, she pointed off to the side. "There's an elevator around the corner. Take that up to the third floor, and Mr. Rikiga's room is 300. Very easy to remember."
Kaoru nodded and began to walk away.
"Oh! Wait, sweetie. You can't bring pets up there."
"Huh?" Kaoru glanced down at Pup. There was no way they were going up to some stranger's room without him. If they couldn't bring him, they'd rather leave. But it would be such a waste of time and energy to come all this way and not achieve what they set out to do.
"It's his dog," Kaoru said quickly.
"Pardon?"
Kaoru cleared their throat and tried to look convincing. "The dog is his. That's why I'm visiting. To return it."
"I didn't know Mr. Rikiga had a dog…" The woman tilted her head again. Kaoru was starting to perspire under her steady gaze. "Well… I guess it's okay. Just keep it leashed."
The tension building up in their shoulders slackened. They jangled the leash to get Pup's attention and made their way around the corner to the elevator. The ride up only lasted a handful of seconds, and when the doors pinged open, Kaoru stepped out into a neat and gaily lit corridor. They scanned the door numbers, but apparently the elevator spat them out at the completely opposite end of the hall. They continued walking, their eyes counting the numbers off one by one, and about halfway down, they became aware of a terrible ruckus from one of the rooms down at the end. By the time they'd reached 320, the argument was pretty clear.
"You pig! I know you've been cheating on me! I saw you!"
The man gave some kind of mumbled response, which elicited an even more colorful answer from the woman. Kaoru cocked an eyebrow, but proceeded without pause. The door at the end of the hall flew open and a voluptuous woman, clad entirely in black and with the severest haircut Kaoru had ever seen, stomped out.
"Don't bother coming back, then!" a man's gruff voice called from inside the room.
Kaoru stepped aside when the woman passed. Their eyes drifted toward the end of the hallway. Please don't be that door, please don't be that door, please don't— Damn it. Standing in front of room 300, Kaoru felt morbidly depressed. They glanced down at Pup, but he was watching the woman climb into the elevator. With a sigh, they knocked on the door.
It opened instantly, revealing the smug face of a middle-aged man. "I knew you'd come back—"
His face fell when he realized he was staring into thin air. He was a tall man with broad shoulders. He was fleshy around the middle, although not exactly obese, which was fortunate, because his moustache would have looked even worse if he was twenty pounds heavier.
His eyes finally made the journey downward.
Kaoru leered at him. "You're a scumbag."
The middle of the man's forehead pinched.
"A kid? What do you want?" They were able to distinguish, out of the numerous layers of cologne and other equally potent odors, the distinctly sour stench of alcohol emanating from his person.
"I can't think of a single thing I'd want from you. This is obviously some big joke." Kaoru sighed. "You don't happen to know Nezumi, do you?"
"What? Mice? What're you—?" Suddenly, the clouded look on the man's face cleared and his eyes turned shrewd. "Did Shion send you?" he asked in a hushed voice, becoming scarily sober in a matter of seconds.
"I don't know any Shion, just some dipshit who calls himself Nezumi. I got a note with this address."
The man nodded once, quickly, and stepped back from the door. "Come in."
Kaoru remained where they were. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't even know you."
"Name's Rikiga. Now, come on, kid. It's not safe to talk out here. Come in, before someone sees you." His eyes drifted down. "But leave the dog outside."
Kaoru shifted defensively. "Anything you wanna say to me, you can say in front of him."
"What? No, kid. This is a classy apartment. Animals aren't allowed in here."
"They didn't seem to have any trouble letting you in."
Rikiga pressed his lips into a hard line. "You're a real piece of work. Now, for the last time, get in here."
"Hey!"
Rikiga reached out and pulled Kaoru into the room by the shoulder. Pup narrowly slipped in before the door slammed shut behind them. Rikiga released them immediately to lock the door and Kaoru took that time to spring a good distance away from him.
"You weren't followed, were you?" the man asked, peeping through the peephole.
"What gives, old man?" Kaoru bristled. They glanced down at Pup. He looked unharmed, but his ears were pinned back and he looked none too pleasantly at Rikiga.
"You can never be too careful," the older man muttered. "But we should be relatively safe in here." He strode past them and to the couch, but he was too restless to sit, and so he just hovered there.
Kaoru did a quick sweep of the apartment, in case an escape route was necessary. They had Pup if things got out of hand, but it was always better to be prepared. There was a leather couch and a television in the center of the room, and a kitchen to the right-hand side. Every flat surface was littered with bottles, which Kaoru assumed by the scent, were, or had recently been, filled with alcohol.
They wrinkled their nose. "Classy apartment, my ass. It reeks of booze in here. Aren't there laws against having this much alcohol?"
"You've got some mouth, you know that?" Rikiga sniffed. "You certainly took your sweet time getting here." He narrowed his eyes at them. "But you're here now, so I guess I can deal with a little lip. God knows I need the help. I was beginning to think I'd have to do something desperate."
Kaoru tore their eyes away from the fire escape they spied out of the window. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"What'dya mean, what am I talking about? The plan. For Shion."
"What plan? Who's this Shion you keep talking about?"
"I thought you said you got a note."
"For the last time, my note was from Nezumi, and it said nothing but this address."
Rikiga grunted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a carton of cigarettes, but instead of taking one out to smoke, he dumped the pack into his hand and held it out to Kaoru.
"Read these, commit them to memory, and then give them back to me."
Kaoru was convinced they had just been suckered into walking into the apartment of the biggest lunatic in No. 6. They leered at the white cylinders in the man's hand, and realized, upon closer inspection, that they were not cigarettes but rolls of paper.
Rikiga got bored of holding his hand out after a few seconds. "We don't have all day, kid. We've wasted enough time." He poured the pile on the table in front of the couch and strode to the back of the room to stress smoke a real cigarette. With the man a comfortable distance away, Kaoru stalked to the table and inspected the papers.
The strips were the same as the one that they had received from Nezumi, but these were written in a softer, less refined hand. Kaoru scanned them one by one. Each had a number scratched into the right-hand corner, so it was easy to suss out their order. The first appeared to be an apology, but the rest seemed to be pieces of a request for help and then details of where and how to find some computer drives, which were apparently hidden in Nezumi's house and were meant to be retrieved with the help of a mouse. The last note must have been the one the man kept referring to.
Help may arrive. If not, please find a way. We're counting on you. –S
"What's going on here? What're these drives these notes talk about?" Kaoru narrowed their eyes at the man. "You some kind of spy or something?" He didn't look like any spy they had ever seen, and if he was, he must have been a piss poor one.
No wonder this Shion guy thought he needed help. But why me? And what's his connection to Nezumi?
Rikiga coughed, dropping his cigarette into an empty beer bottle on the windowsill. "No, nothing so grand. I work at the Information Bureau. The head of the Information Bureau, actually." He flashed his teeth in Kaoru's direction. "You don't recognize me?" he asked, cockiness seeping through his nervous demeanor.
Kaoru raised their eyebrows. "Information Bureau, huh? Explains why you're such a schmuck."
The grin on the man's face faded. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
"Show some respect. I could get you arrested for talking bad about the city."
Kaoru snorted. "I ain't afraid of you. Seems like you'd be in some pretty deep shit with the city yourself if they found out what you're planning to do."
Rikiga frowned and came toward the table. Kaoru stepped behind Pup, but had grown bold enough not to retreat any further.
"You're right about that," the man confessed, bending down to pick an astray off the table. He brushed the papers into it and set them on fire with a lighter from his pocket. Kaoru watched them blacken and crumble with tense fascination.
"Which is why I need your help."
They broke away from the dying flames in the astray and stared at the older man. "Me?"
"Yes, you. I need you to infiltrate Chronos and get the drives."
"—Huh? Are you out of your freaking mind, old man? Why would I do something as suicidal as that for some guy I don't even know? Or like, for that matter."
"It's not for me, it's for Shion. You might not know him, but I can vouch that he's a really understanding and capable kid. And he needs those drives."
"If he's so capable, why doesn't he get his own drives?"
"Well…" Rikiga cleared his throat and reached up to scratch his neck. "That's because he's in West Block."
Kaoru blinked. All right, this just got a whole lot weirder. Kaoru had heard enough about West Block to know that was not a place one admitted they had connections to. If there was ever any doubt in their mind that this was a situation they didn't want to be involved in, they were pretty sure now that any association with this man and his note-writing buddy Shion was asking for trouble. Nezumi sure knows how to pick 'em.
"I know what you're thinking," Rikiga said sternly, "but Shion's a good kid. He's nothing like the lowlifes that live there. His motives are pure."
"Sounds like a pretty lousy guy to me. He's asking you to waltz into Chronos and steal things from Nezumi's house. It doesn't get more dangerous than that. Do you even know what he plans to use those computer things for?"
Rikiga's expression clouded a little. "He didn't say."
"That's really sketchy, old man."
"I trust that he has a good reason, though," Rikiga said passionately. "This Nezumi kid must trust you enough to bring you in on this operation. If you won't do it for Shion, then do it for him."
The notion was so ridiculous Kaoru laughed. The older man glared at them.
"Trust me? Nezumi?" Kaoru snorted. "That guy's so paranoid he wouldn't trust his own reflection. Forget about trusting me. And unlike your friend, Nezumi's motives are never 'pure,' so if it's all the same to you, I'm gonna pass."
Rikiga was now leering at them like they were the scum of the earth. "Why'd you even show up, if you weren't going to help?" he growled.
"Look, old man, if Shion's so special to you, why don't you do it yourself?"
"If it meant only me going down, I'd do it, but if I get caught before delivering the drives, it'll be all over for Shion. I can't afford to let him down again. I made a promise, and I plan to keep it this time." This inspiring speech lost much of its conviction when Rikiga stumbled over to his counter and took a swig of a half-finished bottle of brandy.
Kaoru folded their arms across their chest and studied the man anew. "You sure are willing to put a lot on the line for this Shion guy. He your bastard or something?" That would at least explain why he was living in West Block.
Rikiga flushed up to his ears. "No, it's nothing like that. I owe him a debt."
"Hmph. Well, I have no such thing, and I'm not gonna put my life on the line. Have fun getting arrested."
"Hey, wait a second! You can't just—!"
Rikiga nearly dove in between them and the door. Kaoru took a step back. The old drunk's faster than he looks.
"You gotta help me. I told you, I can't do this alone. Don't you have any compassion? Shion needs those drives. Something horrible might happen if he doesn't get them."
"Not my problem."
"I'll make it worth your while. Name a figure and it's yours."
Kaoru wrinkled their nose. "I don't need your money. What use is that in this stupid city?"
"Alright, fine. What do you want? Just tell me what it'll take."
Kaoru clicked their tongue. This geezer was incorrigible. His desperation reeked of some kind of deep-seated guilt. It would be better to just leave now and have no part in this. But then again… Kaoru scrutinized the man. He was a shmuck, but he was a professional shmuck.
Kaoru considered for a moment longer before replying, "A job."
"Huh?" Rikiga blinked his red-rimmed eyes.
Kaoru crossed their arms. "You heard me. A job. And not some shitty one either—one that pays."
The man furrowed his brow. "You're a pretty weird kid. What do you need with a job at your age?"
"I'm not a kid. And I don't have to explain my reasons to you, old man. Those are my terms."
"Alright, alright. Whatever you say. If you manage to get me the drives, I'll see what I can do about a job for you. Though, if you don't clean up that nasty attitude of yours I don't think anyone will take you."
"That's your problem. If you go back on me, I'll sic Pup on you."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm a man of business—apparently, so are you. I'll keep my word, so long as you hold up your end."