A/N - If there's one thing I hate, it's hitting a low point in the creative cycle. That and a rather inconvenient cyclone that passed near my area that left the parting gift of about ten years or rain in as many minutes. This took far longer than it should have and I'm still not 100% happy with it. Sure it does the job of a "Calm between storms" chapter but there's something about it that doesn't sit well with me... probably because I had to force myself to write certain parts.
Ah well. Here it is anyway. With luck I can forge ahead and make the next chapter better. Let me know what you think!
Also, Thanks to Cylon One for being my editor on this. It may have taken me a long time to fix the stuff he pointed out but I got there in the end :)
Row upon row of computer screens illuminated the small room crammed wall to wall with computers and computer related paraphernalia. Matsu had been digging up Minato's psychological profile when her security software alerted her to visitors at the door of Izumo House. The red headed, glasses wearing Sekirei of information was curious by nature and paranoid by practice. She had left MBI on less than stellar terms… to the point that she was effectively a willing prisoner within the walls of her hidden apartment within Izumo House itself, the only place in Tokyo safe enough for her to reside. Adjusting her glasses, she minimised the profile windows for Minato and his two Sekirei, Kusano and Musubi, focusing instead on the newcomers at the door.
She recognised Akitsu almost immediately, the much vaunted Ice Queen of the Sekirei, a discarded number. Rumour had it that she was too powerful to ever be winged and had been excluded from Minaka's Sekirei Plan… though other rumours suggested that her exclusion from the Sekirei Plan went far deeper than merely being too powerful, it had always been impossible to nail down any hard evidence to prove any of the rumours true. Her psychological profile claimed that she was serious, diligent, honourable yet either incapable of feeling emotions or incapable of showing them; the head doctors at MBI had been unable to determine which exactly, though Matsu took that information with a large grain of salt as much of those documents had been heavily redacted.
What surprised her most though was what she was carrying, or more accurately, whom. It was not difficult to recognise the man from that morning's pronouncement by their much vaunted Game Master, the 'dangerous fugitive' that Minaka was willing to reward an incredible boon to the Ashikabi or Sekirei that brought him in. She immediately leapt into action, checking the usual sources and running through the open source databases before worming her way into more secure systems trying to dredge up information.
Nothing. She found nothing. Not a peep. Though she only had his face to work with that alone should have yielded mountains of data. It was impossible to live without generating a significant paper trail. There was not one passport, driver's license, bus pass, concession card, credit detail, club membership or even library card that bore his face. The only way she could account for the lack of information was a deliberate attempt to suppress information of his existence… which meant that someone out there wanted this man to remain an unperson or this man had made himself an unperson, both prospects requiring computer and informational skills and resources at least on par with her own.
She set her data gathering software to work on the fugitive and then minimised the necessary programs. Something might yet turn up in the mass of information that was the internet on this mystery man… perhaps even the reason why MBI wanted him so badly. It was far more information than even she could sift through on a casual whim and she had other concerns right now.
She drew up the profile on Sahashi Minato again, fully intent on finding out why he had failed to get into university twice but wound up instead staring hungrily at his profile pictures. The fugitive had been older but far more handsome… still, Matsu was not one to argue too much with destiny. She grinned lasciviously as she envisioned all the 'experimenting' she was going to get up to once she could get Minato alone and giggled with delight. Perhaps it wasn't too late to sneak into his room…
Takami drained her coffee and tossed the empty cup into a nearby bin as she stopped off at ward 34 on the hidden fourth floor of MBI tower. She inhaled deeply on what had to be her fortieth cigarette for the day, intent on entering the ward once she'd finished smoking. Three Sekirei critically injured in one day, two of them badly enough to knock them out of the 'game' that Minaka had orchestrated, one badly enough to land him in a hospital bed. Minaka's game had taken a very serious turn, one she wasn't at all comfortable with but was powerless to act against at this juncture, not if she wanted to topple Minaka from his pedestal cleanly.
She stubbed out the smouldering remnant of her cigarette and entered the ward. Shourai, the Sekirei of Clairvoyance lay in a room that held a single bed with an IV drip, heart monitor and most of the other trappings common to a hospital. Takami took a look at her chart noting the figures. Shourai had been a favourite in some of the unofficial and certainly unsanctioned betting pools that MBI employees ran regarding the Sekirei Plan. She'd been considered a favourite as it was commonly believed she could see the future.
Takami had done her best to dispel such rumours. Shourai could see a few moments into the future and under rare circumstances catch a glimpse of a random moment months ahead of time but her power had never been such that she had a crippling advantage over all other Sekirei. Before she'd been released into the world to find her Ashikabi, Shourai had told Takami of her vision of meeting him in the summer rain, a vision that hadn't come to pass. Now the girl never would meet him, would never fulfil her destiny. So long as Minaka remained in power she would be trapped on the fourth floor of MBI tower in Takami's secret hospital. The only chance of her vision ever being fulfilled would be for Takami's corporate coup to be a success.
For now the broken Sekirei of Clairvoyance was in a medically induced coma while her injuries healed, snapped vertebrae in the upper and lower spinal column, cracked jaw, multiple broken ribs and a cracked skull, to say nothing of internal bleeding. For human and Sekirei alike the injuries would have been fatal… if not for Itonami, the Sekirei of Healing. Without her ability to soak up injuries like water into a sponge many Sekirei would have perished. Itonami benefitted from healing others. She could reverse the process and 'give' the injuries she absorbed to others on contact. It made her a powerful opponent to fight for those in the Sekirei Plan… only those that could maintain their distance would be able to cleanly defeat her.
Takami curbed her train of thought and returned her attention to her patient. It was all too easy to slip into the mindset that this was all just a game, that Sekirei were chess pieces on a board and that some were more valuable than others. They were people. Flesh and blood. One hundred and eight people were being made to caper and fight one another for the pleasure and megalomania of MBI's chairman. Those that fought and lost would have been disposed of until only one remained, if not for Takami's intervention in the matter.
She left Shourai to her coma and once back in the hall lit up another cigarette. The chain smoking was the only way for her to calm her nerves what with her plans coming ever closer to fruition. A few more days and with a little luck she wouldn't need the nicotine fix to steady her nerves, not that she was deluded into thinking that breaking her three pack a day habit would be easy. After finishing her cigarette she entered ward 35.
She checked the chart of the second Sekirei to grace her wards. Yashima… poor Yashima. The injuries that had lead to her being knocked out of the game had been relatively minor, broken ribs, shattered left shoulder and a host of injuries consistent with multiple blunt force trauma. There had been nothing truly preventing her from fighting but for a distinct unwillingness to do so. Takami had read the reports about her Ashikabi and had railed against Minaka that a monster like Tanigawa had ever been allowed to wing a Sekirei. Minaka's cold indifference had spurred her to throw more effort into her efforts to reverse the Ashikabi / Sekirei bond, a project that held little prospect for success without input from long dead Takehito.
Yashima was recovering… physically. For Winged Sekirei the loss of the mark also marked the loss of personality, a death of the mind over the body. Now Yashima just stared unblinkingly at the ceiling, though if Saki was to be believed she had been seen crying silently to herself. That was something new as far as Takami knew. Once the mark and personality was gone the Sekirei was essentially a blank slate. With time and rehabilitation a new personality would emerge. The tears though could only mean that some remnant of Yashima yet remained as though she'd retreated to some safe inner place that had somehow escaped the death of personality and had no desire to interact with the outside world ever again.
Her injuries had been so minor that the only conclusion Takami had as to why Yashima would throw whatever fight she'd been in was that she had wanted to be free of her Ashikabi. That was enough to set Takami's blood boiling. When the dust settled and Minaka was safely deposed nothing on Earth would stop her from meting out justice for the Sekirei that had suffered abuse at the hands of their Ashikabi. She owed it to the Sekirei and she owed it to her guilty conscience for being forced to stand by and let it happen. With a sigh she let Yashima's chart fall back into place with a soft clatter and made her way to ward 36.
Upon entering she saw Itonami sleeping deeply in a chair by the bed that held Homura.
"Shhh," he said and pointed a finger at Itonami.
Considering his hospitalisation he seemed to be in good condition. A quick appraisal of his chart showed that he'd not sustained injury critical enough to warrant being knocked out of Minaka's game… though he had certainly taxed his body to its very limits.
"You should take it easy for the next few days," whispered Takami so as not to awaken Itonami.
"Like I need you to tell me that," said Homura. He then glanced briefly at Itonami and then back to Takami, "Busy day?"
Takami nodded, "Two Sekirei out of the game today alone. Shourai and Yashima,"
"I heard about Yashima," said Homura grimly.
"How are your burns faring? Has Itonami healed you yet?" asked Takami.
Homura smiled and then winced slightly in pain.
"No, she barely made it to the chair before dropping off, how badly were the others hurt?"
"Shourai was half dead when they brought her in. Not so much for Yashima. It's like she lost the will to fight. How bad are your burns?"
"Bad enough," said Homura, "I'll live though. Give Itonami a rest will you? When can I get out of here?"
"She'll get a chance to rest up but not before she's gone over your burns at least once," replied Takami.
In defiance Homura threw off the bed covers, got up and collected his clothes to get dressed.
"I think not. I'll heal soon enough and these burns are a lesson, I think, one that must be learned. You know where I live if you need me… though I doubt I'll be able to help much,"
Takami shook her head but knew better than to argue with Homura when he'd made up his mind. The man was as stubborn as they came. She fished for a cigarette and held it out.
"Got a light?" she asked.
Homura glared at her, unamused.
"Kidding," she said before lighting up.
Akitsu knelt by the Doctor's side watching over him. Miya had taken them in; she'd explained that it was her way and that of her deceased husband that no one was ever turned away from Izumo House. After sorting out a room for the Doctor, Miya had gone upstairs to break up some kind of unauthorised midnight visit, threatening the perpetrator with no breakfast before returning to explain the rules. Akitsu recognised Miya the moment she'd seen her, Number 01, arguably the most powerful Sekirei in existence, leader of the first generation Discipline Squad and, if rumours were to be believed, the living embodiment of a demon.
Miya had then gone to bed, allowing Akitsu to stand vigil over the Doctor. He had just lain there in blissful unconsciousness, breathing rhythmically while Akitsu had watched over him the entire night. She was exhausted from her time trying to evade capture but was still far too paranoid and wired to even attempt sleep. Throughout the night she sat and thought. It would have been so easy to simply accept MBI's offer and turn the Doctor in. She could have asked for them to lift the mark emblazoned on her forehead and allow her to seek her Ashikabi as a participant in the Sekirei Plan. It was easy. It was logical. Why then hadn't she taken up the offer? Why had she chosen the illogical, the irrational path and chosen to defend this stranger? Was it just because he had been kind to her? Akitsu couldn't accept that. Kindness, though it was rarely shown to her, was not enough to warrant not turning the Doctor in. What then? What had spurred her to this irrational decision?
She stopped herself there. The answer was in the question. The reason was irrational. She had developed an irrational attachment to the Doctor. For some reason she valued him more than favour from MBI. Was it gratitude? In part, yes. Was it friendship? Certainly. A desire to be his Sekirei? There was no question of that. Could this have been love? She understood that love was irrational in and of itself. She knew, intellectually, that she desired his company over that of all others she had seen, met and remembered. Was that love? Did she love the Doctor?
Akitsu's train of thought was interrupted by the door sliding aside to reveal a sleepy looking auburn haired woman wearing a pink top with a star and jeans.
"Miya! When's breakfast?" said Uzume as she yawned sleepily while rubbing her eyes.
Akitsu was on her feet in an instant. She didn't need to see the mark to know the smell of another Sekirei. Uzume, Number 10, known to some as the Veiled Sekirei, she was outcast from MBI for reasons that Akitsu hadn't been privy to.
"Leave," snapped Akitsu icily.
"Eh?" said Uzume clearing sleep away from her eyes before bringing them into focus.
"Leave," repeated Akitsu more stridently.
Uzume looked at the discarded Sekirei. Then she looked at the man sleeping on the floor. She then looked back to the discarded Sekirei. Then back at the man sleeping on the floor. She repeated this at least twice more in less than a moment before her sleep addled brain finally put two and two together.
The fugitive. Here, she thought as her mind finally clicked into place.
Though Uzume was in MBI's 'bad books' the delivery of the fugitive could potentially save her Ashikabi. The moment of hesitation was all Akitsu needed to start calling upon her powers. The temperature in the room dropped perceptibly.
"No fighting in Izumo House!" snapped Miya as she burst through a nearby door, startling the two would-be combatants. For good measure she whacked both Akitsu and Uzume over the head with a wooden spoon she happened to have handy.
"Ow!" groaned Uzume. Akitsu winced but said nothing.
"You will go into the common room and have breakfast with the rest of our tenants in a civil manner. I'm sure things will be most peaceful while I tend to our unconscious guest?" said Miya in that devilishly sweet way that only an idiot would disobey.
"Ahaha! Yes! Of course Miya!" said Uzume, laughing nervously before beating a hasty retreat.
Akitsu nodded silently and padded after her. She felt no fear but had no desire to lose her life over so minor a confrontation. They made their way to the common room in silence. At the last moment, Uzume seemed to reconsider the prospect of breakfast.
"I'm too tired, I'm going back to sleep," she muttered.
Akitsu glared at her as Uzume retreated up the stairs to her room. Had her eyes been lasers she would have burned Uzume to a cinder. Once she was reasonably certain that Uzume had not excused herself as part of some kind of ruse she continued on towards the common room.
"Finally I don't have to eat my meals in hiding anymore! Eating breakfast with everyone really is the best!" exclaimed Matsu as Akitsu entered.
"Who's that?" asked Minato once he'd noticed the newcomer.
"A new Sekirei! Look! She even has her mark!" exclaimed Musubi happily as she bounded towards Akitsu, launching into an impromptu hug.
Akitsu paused at the suddenness of the hug she'd found herself in. Sekirei did not hug Sekirei in her experience. Physical contact almost always meant combat… yet she sensed no desire for combat from the Sekirei hugging her as she had from Uzume earlier.
"Ah, Musubi, ah… isn't that meant to be a secret?" said Minato with a nervous glance towards Kagari.
"I've heard a thing or two about Sekirei," said Kagari, giving him a wry grin. Minato still didn't know he was in fact Homura and a Sekirei himself.
"Ah, Kagari, what happened to your hands?" said Minato, noticing the bandages for the first time.
"More like my whole body, I just got a little burned at work," said Kagari before allowing another mouthful of breakfast to be placed in his mouth by Kusano. Minato swore that he would never, never go into hosting. Not if it entailed what Kagari had clearly had to endure.
"Come! Sit! Eat with us! Tell us all about yourself! It's always fun meeting other Sekirei!" exclaimed Musubi with indefatigable joy as she dragged Akitsu to her place at the table.
Akitsu seated herself and helped herself to the meal laid out in front of her, taking small delicate portions with her chopsticks.
"So, what's your name?" asked Minato.
"Akitsu," she said.
"I'm Minato, this is Musubi, the girl is Kusano and the person to your right is Matsu," introduced Minato, "Welcome to Izumo House,"
"How did you come to be in Izumo House?" asked Musubi, barely able to contain her curiosity.
Akitsu glanced in the direction of the guest rooms, "My Ashikabi…" she said before returning her attention to her meal.
"How did you meet? I just happened to bump into Minato! Was it the same for you?" asked Musubi excitedly.
"He found me. In the rain," said Akitsu.
"Why does Aki have that on her forehead?" asked Kusano looking intently at Akitsu's mark.
An awkward silence settled over the table. Akitsu paused in nibbling at her meal. The company of others was stifling, awkward and uncomfortable for her. She'd lived alone for so long that the presence of others was frankly embarrassing for her. In truth she was starving but couldn't bring herself to eat in anything less than the most polite manner. Even then she felt awkward and strange, as though her every move was being watched and judged, but Kusano bringing attention to the crest on her forehead however was enough to send the feeling of awkwardness soaring.
"Not hungry," she said and made as rapid an exit towards the yard as she could manage without being rude.
"Um… did we do something wrong?" asked Minato to no one in particular.
When she was sure Akitsu was out of earshot, Matsu spoke up.
"It wasn't your fault Minato. Akitsu is a discarded number, a Sekirei either too powerful or too weak to participate in the battles to come."
"Couldn't they adjust her?" asked Musubi.
"No," said Matsu, "I know of only three discarded numbers, possibly a fourth, none of them could be adjusted, not even by Takehito. Something in their very nature made it impossible, so when the Sekirei Plan came into being, they were locked out and prevented from participating, she likely escaped from MBI. Akitsu is very much an outsider, she cannot be winged by any Ashikabi, nor can she win the Sekirei Plan."
"But… she said Ashikabi earlier?" asked Kusano innocently.
"She probably feels that the person in room 102 is her Ashikabi, but as long as the mark remains on her head," she said, tapping her forehead for emphasis, "she can never be winged."
"That's…" said Musubi sadly, her voice cracking.
"That so sad!" finished Kusano tearing up.
Both Musubi and Kusano clung to Minato for emotional support, crushing him slightly. No wonder Akitsu had left once they'd brought up the mark. Its prominent and unusual position must have been a public humiliation for her… and Kusano had innocently and unwittingly drawn attention to it.
"I'll go and check up on her, stay here," said Minato as he rose from his seat.
Minato did not like the taste that 'discarded number' left in his mouth. It made Sekirei sound like tools to be disposed of, if they were defective or had no further use. The thought was… abhorrent to him. If all Sekirei were like Musubi, Kusano or Matsu, then treating them like tools and nothing more was nothing short of monstrous. Had Akitsu been some kind of failed experiment? Had she displeased some uncaring scientist with no sense of ethics or morals? Had she been too weak or too powerful to allow the freedom, limited in scope though it may have been that the Sekirei Plan offered? The more Minato thought about it the angrier at MBI he became for treating Sekirei, people in all but name, like common objects. It was something he wanted to rectify as he made his way to the garden and found Akitsu sitting on the step very much alone.
"Mind if I sit here?" asked Minato.
She gave him a sidelong glance and gave a slight nod. He decided to sit an inoffensive distance from Akitsu.
"Kusano didn't mean to offend you," explained Minato, "She's young and curious, I'm sure you understand,"
Akitsu nodded and returned her gaze to the garden. She was finally coming down from her adrenaline high from the previous night's chase and she now felt all the bumps, bruises, scrapes, aches and pains from the previous day's combat. Her body was weary and was trying to tell her in the most clear and concise language it knew.
"I know a little bit about Sekirei," said Minato, unsure of what exactly to make of Akitsu but wanting to help nonetheless, "I know you're a discarded number… if there's anything I can do to help you or to make things easier, just ask."
"Solitude," said Akitsu.
"Solitude?" asked Minato.
"Yes. I want to be alone."
"Of course," said Minato, rising to meet her request, "But please, remember my offer. If you need anything, just ask."
"I will," responded Akitsu as Minato left.
As he made his way back to the common room he found he still couldn't quite understand what Akitsu was all about. Was she a loner by nature or had the treatment she'd endured at MBI make her that way? Her laconic nature made it hard to get a handle on what she was thinking or feeling. It was almost as though she could experience no other feelings apart from a semi permanent melancholy. One thing had rung through loud and clear though. She wanted very much to be left alone.
Minaka awoke to a sore neck, a pounding headache, a stiff body riddled with aches, and a strong desire for something salty that would take years off his life. After standing up to stretch some of the aches away he stowed away the shot glass and threw away the empty bottle before pulling out a worn book. He opened the cover.
My Friend Minaka,
I give to you this book in the hope that it will expand your horizons ever further.
Your friend,
Takehito
It had been intended as a gift for his birthday, still some months ahead at the time prior to Takehito's disappearance. Exactly what a Japanese to English dictionary could do to expand his horizons Minaka could only really guess. If push came to shove he could always pay for a translator to speak English for him… still he couldn't begrudge the last gift that his friend had left to him and made good use of it. Every time he woke he'd made a habit of opening up to a random entry and saw no reason to break with habit even now.
Opportunity: a situation or condition favourable for attainment of a goal
He tried to enunciate the word as the dictionary instructed but couldn't quite wrap his tongue around the phonemes and syllables. Still, the word was appropriate. The coming days would spell an opportunity to move the Sekirei Plan into the next phase, the occupation of Tokyo. No Sekirei or Ashikabi would be permitted to leave and the final ten Sekirei left over would be winged. Any day now the critical number would be reached.
In addition to that the fugitive, whom had proved quite adept at evading capture, would be forced to face the discipline squad. He either had to be formidable or he had help, in any case he had to be neutralised sooner rather than later. Minaka snapped the book shut and put it away.
Miya smiled as she brought up another load of washing for the day. The rest of her tenants were having breakfast or sleeping in. Though household chores were something of a burden to most she always made it a point to find joy in every activity. She sorted the brightly coloured clothes from the dark, pausing momentarily as she came upon her latest tenant's clothes. Undressing him had been problematic at best even though he'd been surprisingly light. In a way despite his western features he'd reminded her of Takehito… thin, lanky… a strange mix of boyishness and manliness in one package.
She pulled out his pinstripe suit and thought the better of washing it straight up. It was best to empty the pockets of any valuables or important documents first. She stuck her hand down the pants pocket and found it to be surprisingly roomy. Within she found a piece of paper claiming that he was part of 'Her Royal Majesty's Secret Service' with very official looking stamps. She set that aside and continued digging. The pocket was deep… far deeper than the outside suggested. She found a plethora of items, a packet of jelly babies with a due date reading '1947', three sticks of what she assumed was gum with unrecognisable writing, a magnifying glass, a wind up mouse, a withered piece of broccoli, two pieces of string, a rock that, when she accidentally dropped it, refused to bounce in clear violation of Newton's laws, a stethoscope and…
She stopped and stared at what she was now looking at. It was a long, thin, metallic contraption not too unlike a penlight. When she pressed the button set inside the handle it made a dull whirring sound and lit up a soft blue… she'd only seen something like it once before.
Setting it aside she put the clothes hurriedly into the wash and made her way to her room. Miya had to be sure of her suspicions. She pulled out a small chest where she kept some of Takehito's little odds and ends, small objects that he'd been fond of that she kept to remind herself of her late husband. She opened the chest and sifted through the items, digging deeper and deeper until she found it.
An identical contraption to the one she'd found in her new tenant's pocket.