Housemate #2

She was dreaming, and then she woke. Her heart raced, her breath quickened, and sweat clung to her body.

Calm.

Calm.

She is calm.

She is calm.

It was only a dream. Only a dream.

She suddenly felt so cold.

What time is it?

The alarm clock was gone, and pulling back the curtains yielded no hint. Darkness surrounded her. The sky was always dark, day or night, rain or… otherwise. No sun. She saw only gray, above and below. Smoke and smog and toxic, blackened clouds blanketed the sky. The sun vanished when she left the dome.

It was cold today, yet sweat pooled on her back, dampening the bedsheet and shirt she borrowed. She could not stay in bed, not anymore. Sleep and its peace were far away. The metal frame of the bed creaked with every movement she made, no matter how slight.

She knew it was too early to be out and about, but sleep was the last thing she needed right now. Not after… that.

She undid the latch on the door. The way it tilted slightly off angle wasn't something she noticed at first, but it has bothered her ever since.

She was sure that the latch was put there by none other than Suzuki Satoru himself, too lazy or too miserly to replace the broken doorknob.

The doorknob itself was still there on the door, stuck stiff, refusing to turn, its bolt trapped inside the faceplate, useless.

She headed for the chair in the hallway. A chill crept up her spine. It was even colder than in the bedroom.

The weather here was wild, unpredictable, dangerous. One moment rain, the other wind, the next everything was calm again only for a storm to crash right after. Yet, it was still nature, and nature was wild and unpredictable. Inside the dome, the temperature was fixed and rain came at intervals. Everything was predictable, controlled, and unnatural. It felt wrong.

How she missed the gentleness of an unpolluted world. She wanted to look up at the sky and see silver clouds and golden rays instead of the blackness of smoke and ash or the grayness of steel beams and tinted glass. She wanted to feel rain pelting her skin again, rain that was neither false nor corrosive. Just like everything else she took for granted, it was too late to appreciate them now.

She moved on; she always has.

Her parents, her friends, her world, her happiness, all were taken from her. Some, she couldn't even recall enough to mourn, despite how much she tried.

There were so many things she wanted; she wanted to see them again, to feel their names leaving her lips, to wrap them around her arms, feel their heat on her skin. Not even in dreams could she see their faces.

But it was justice, for them and her, that she wanted most. It was denied. Whether it was by fate, chance, the corruption of this world, or the Monstrosity that haunts the previous, she was denied her justice.

It was four-thirty in the morning, and she already regretted waking up.

…That was a bad thought.

She should focus on the good things. They'd win, He'd win, if she gave up; she must continue on, no matter what. Momon was cheering for her, she knew.

Or he would, if he knew she was here. But that didn't matter to her. For his sake and for her own. Evileye moves forward; she always has.

Think of the good things… good things…

The food here was good. She never really had the chance to taste the luxuries of her previous life. Food and dust tasted the same back then. Here, though, she could eat and find enjoyment in eating. She remembered the rich cuts of beef, juicy and fatty and tender. Her new father had them almost every dinner, even after the doctors warned him about his health. He said it was worth it if what killed him was something he loved.

Something he loved killed him in the end.

It wasn't the beef.

Focus on the good things, Evileye, only on the good things.

…Fruits! Yes! She enjoyed eating fruits, just like her mother in this world. Her mother adored fruits of all kinds and all the ways they were served. Juiced melon, dried persimmon, grapes, eaten straight from the vines. They had an entire garden behind their mansion, where they would eat fresh fruits all year round.

Too bad all of it was now ashes.

No! She grumbled at her thoughts. Stop thinking of bad things, damn you.

Remember the happy memories… happy memories… like the birthday parties! Yes! Those were always fun. She remembered the cakes, each with a dozen layers towering over her. Each took at least four servants to carve and twice as many to make. As she got older, the cakes got taller and larger, and the portions that the guests were served got taller and larger, too. And not counting the veritable buffet of food and drinks on the side, so much that even if guests were arriving in droves and took their entire household staff with them, there would still be leftovers.

Even that nice princess whose name she forgot and whose face was lost to her would be in awe at how much food was served and maybe cringed at how much of it was wasted.

She remembered the gifts. The guests always showered her with presents, gaudy and expensive. One time they even brought a dog. Pets were hard to get ahold of, but she never liked animals all that much, so the dog was mostly taken care of by her mother.

Her mother adored that little thing.

"Look, Anna, look! Look at how smart the little puppy is! Aww, barely a year old and already learned so many tricks. He reminded me so much of you my little darling. You were so smart when you were young, too!"

Evileye had always scoffed at such remarks.

Maybe she should have treasured them much more than she had.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Even behind sealed doors and air filtrations, she could still smell the smog outside. Ash and dust, just like her life now…

Focus back on the good things, useless brain.

Whether it was her acquaintances from school or her parents' family, all of them brought expensive gifts and flattering compliments. The guests told jokes, and toasted her health and success, showering her with praises and congratulations for even the most minute of achievements.

It was all fake, she knew, mere courtesy and meaningless flatteries. She also knew they weren't attending the parties for her. They were there only to curry favor with her family, or use it as an excuse to meet and scheme and plot their way up the social ladder. Her parent even joined in from time to time. Even her "friends" from her schools or in university only joined because it was the best chance they'd got to spy on other families and report back to their own.

It didn't matter that much to her back then, if the guest were there or not. But even she knew it was strange then that so few came to her last birthday, only her parents' family and friends. Something was wrong, she felt. But by then, it was already too late.

She could still hear her father's scream and her mother's wail. The shattering glass, the chaos, the thumping of a dozen bodies fell one after the other, her breathing as she ran away. She could hear them all vividly in her mind, even now.

She felt so cold. In the darkness, this place felt neither a house nor a home. It was a tomb, and she was nothing more than a ghost, haunting it alongside the walking corpse that owned this place.

Said corpse was still sleeping, his door ajar. She could peek in like she had done yesterday when she couldn't sleep. Suddenly brought home the rice, knowing she wanted some; he was plotting something, she thought, so she investigated. But when she cracked the lockless door slightly and peered inside, all she could see was him sitting on the chair in the middle of the room, already plugged himself into the internet cable.

He was still, lifeless as a corpse, his eyes hidden behind the visor of a helmet. If he wasn't breathing, she might have thought him dead.

Listening closely, she could hear faint sounds coming from the helmet, and he had this tiny, barely perceptible smile on his face. It seemed he was playing some kind of video game. She could turn on the TV and see what he was playing. But she wasn't that curious about it. And turning it on might alert him of her presence.

And it's not likely she would recognize what he was playing, anyway. Back inside the dome, she rarely played video games. She didn't play any, now that she thought about it. She spent most of her time studying, and her use of the computer inside her brain was sparse, and only when required. "You should study as hard as you can to make your future even brighter," her parents had said.

Yet all she could see around her was darkness.

She didn't remember what she was looking for in his room yesterday, but she stayed there, watching him. From time to time, she heard him speaking to someone. Friends, she realized. He sounded so… joyful, so full of life, unlike the dull tone and monotonous voice whenever he spoke to her.

If the things she thought of him were true, it was supposed to be the opposite. She did not know what to make of that revelation, so she left right after, lost in her thoughts.

She had tried to sleep after that. And when sleep finally claimed her, she dreamed of Momon. He was standing atop a grassy field, his armor soaking in the sunlight. His back to her, helmetless, his raven black hair, while short, still flowing with the winds. She called to him, telling him to look at her, to let her see his face this one time. He turned around, looking at her, but it wasn't him. She knew for sure that face did not belong to him. The face that looked back at her was Suzuki Satoru's. His silent gaze, full of pity, stared straight through her. Around her, faces she could not recognize in voices that felt vaguely familiar screamed. Why did you forget us, they asked. Why did you get to live in luxury and comfort while our death was unmourned, they asked. She couldn't answer, she did not know. When she turned back to Momon, or Satoru, or whoever was standing there, pleading for help, to save her from the voices or to tell them it was not her fault. But standing there was neither Momon nor Satoru. In their place, a skeletal giant stood tall. Its head was a deformed skull, a dark radiance shining behind it, eclipsing her in its shadow. The red flames in its socket burned like the midday sun, hateful of everything that still drew breath. Ainz Ooal Gown. He turned his fiery gaze to her, and she saw pity in the flames. His face was almost gentle, yet when he spoke, hate radiated. She could not understand what he was saying, but she could feel the hate rattle her bones. She did not know what to answer. He stared at her for a moment, silent, disappointed. He opened his mouth again. This time it was not to speak. A thousand corpses spew forth. They twitched and turned, writhing and twitching, mauled and crawled and climbed all over her until she was buried beneath the sea of the dead, drowning in the darkness.

She woke up at that. Cold sweat seeped from every pore on her body.

Now, she sat here, in the cold, dark, emptied hallway. She huddled herself, wrapping her arms around her legs. If she had stayed in bed and covered herself with the blanket, would she have felt warm?

The door at the end of the hall opened. Satoru was there, fully clothed this time. He stared at her for a moment.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

"Fine… why do you ask?"

"You are crying,"

She was? She touched her cheek. It felt wet. Oh…

A hand touched her shoulder. Warm, she felt. Looking up at him, she saw it in his eyes. Pity. Anger gripped her heart.

"I am fine! Just leave me alone!" His hand was shoved away. She needed no pity, especially not from him.

It seemed the messages got through. He left her there, alone just like she asked. Once he left for work, no one would bother her until late evening.

Maybe she shouldn't be alone right at this moment, but she could not stomach the pity in his eyes. She was fine with lust, with hate, with anything, but not pity, never pity. If he left, at least she wouldn't shame herself crying in front of him.

She sat there, alone.

Has she ever been this cold before? Not in this life… until now, that is. The previous one was a blur. The things she could and couldn't recall were random. She could remember that she traveled to many places, but not the names of those places. Castles, kings, princes, and princesses, she remembered, but not names, and never faces. She remembered the companions of her travels. The Thirteen Heroes, the Blue Roses. Thirteen and then five. There was an old lady, too. But what were their names? What did they look like? Did they find themselves in this new world, like her? How could she find them if they were?

Questions, questions, questions, yet no answers. Sorrow replaced the anger inside her heart.

A pair of legs stepped in her peripheral. Its owner sat down. She looked at him, seeing a cup of instant ramen in his hand. He was offering it to her.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I know I shouldn't pry into your business, so no need to tell me what happened. Just know that for what it's worth, I am here, and I can at least try to help, okay?". She could not ignore the pity in his eyes. Her anger almost flared up again. But then, there was something else in there, something akin to… sincerity. She should have felt angry, but all she could feel instead was tiredness.

"Shouldn't you prepare for work?" She asked, accepting the ramen. The noodle was bland and too chewy for her taste, but the broth was decent, a little sour, and somewhat spicy, and the warmth was much appreciated.

While she was eating, Satoru spoke up again, "I told you I got half the day off, didn't I? Later we'll go to the police station and get your chip fixed."

"Chip? For my ID?"

"Yeah, and for the job interview. Didn't I tell you that yesterday?"

He only said that he would ask, but he didn't tell her if he had succeeded. "You didn't."

"Eh? I did…, didn't I? I thought I did!" He said and pinched the bridge between his eyes. "I forgot…"

Was he really this forgetful? Or was it all an act? She couldn't care less honestly. And it didn't matter if she knew it then or now, not like she had any other places to go.

She remembered yesterday. She saw there was something bothering him.

When they ate last night, she took a chance glance at him. He was looking at her, but he didn't see her. He was seeing something in his mind's eye. Memories, she knew just from the look of it. Shadows haunted him, just like specters haunted her. For a single moment, she could see a watery sheen in his eyes. Then he blinked, and only tiredness and resignation remained.

Maybe he was just like her, having things he would rather forget circling in his mind, never letting him know peace. Maybe it had something to do with the clothes she was wearing, too. It must have reminded him of something unpleasant, judging by the look of horror on his face when he saw her wearing them yesterday. Though he seemed to get over it now.

"…So? Is today good?" He brought her back from her musing.

"Not like I have anything to do." Having something to occupy her mind would do her some good, distracting her from the bad thoughts. "When will we leave?"

"As soon as we can. It's not the weekend yet, so I doubt there would be too much of a waiting line. But it wouldn't harm to be a little early."

"And the job interview?"

"Once you are ready for it."

"What do I have to prepare?"

"Just the ID for now. The rest we can worry about when you've landed the job."

"So, let's just go today then." The sooner she got a job, the sooner she could be self-sufficient and not be a bloodsucking leech anymore.

Heh, it's kind of funny, really. She was more of a parasite in this life than the last.

"I'll get ready first. When you're done eating, go change, and maybe take a shower as well. We'll leave afterward." He said.

"Umu," she nodded and resumed eating. It was a quick meal; she was done before he left the bathroom. With the extra time, she decided on something to wear. It was a hard choice. All of them looked so wonderful, the shirts with these unique patterns, and the ripped jeans, especially the ones with spikes and chains. How come she didn't find any designs like them when she still had money to spend? She could gush over them all day.

But she didn't have all day. In the end, she decided on a white shirt with zippers along the seams of the sleeves, with a black X in front that spanned from her nape to her navel. And a pair of silver jeans, ripped of course, though no spikes.

After she was done choosing, she found the bathroom unoccupied. She thought of taking a shower, as Satoru had said, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed a bad idea. Her hair would take forever to dry, and the smog outside would only ruin the wet hair. She never wanted a hot bath as much as now, but this place lacked a tub, so, in resignation, she just took some wet wipes to clean her body.

Next, she washed her face with water, rinsed her mouth with some mouthwash, gargled, and spat it out. There was even floss for her to use after. For someone so miserly, it surprised her he took his dental hygiene this seriously.

She should remember to ask him for a toothbrush; she will pay him back for it, of course, once she gets her pay.

After that, she put on her clothes and left the bathroom.

Satoru was waiting for her back in the hallway. He wore gray pants, a red shirt, and black socks devoid of ornaments and patterns.

"Here, put these on," He told. He handed her a jacket, faded and old, again plain with no markings of any kind. She put them on as Satoru also put on a black hoodie, also simple with no decorations. How can someone's taste in fashion change so much?

Once they were fully dressed, they put on their gas masks and goggles and left the apartment.

The morning air was icy. She could feel its chill in her lungs. It was refreshing, and for a moment, she no longer felt the itch that made her want to cough every few breaths. As she looked around, she saw how clean the streets were, not a speck of trash or other things lying about. The dimmed street lights shined softly on the road and the sidewalks, combined with the tiny bits of sunlight that miraculously passed through the clouds of ash and smoke made the scene look almost enchanting. However, the people in this scene made the above points moot. They sluggishly trudged along, tired and sad. Some yawned behind their masks. They all kept their eyes forward, dull and empty. They somehow walked both purposeful and purposeless at the same time.

Would she be just like that one day?

The walk felt endless, each step harder than the last. Her soles ached so much that she felt as if they would fall off of her feet. By the time she and Satoru reached the station, she was breathless; her calves were sore, and the fiery ache in her lungs that lessened this morning came back. She did not want to cough. Her throat would kill her if she did. But wheezing with a gas mask on was so difficult that she almost choked on her spit.

Yet when she gazed up at the police station, she choked for real.

The station stood tall, like a colossal block of white concrete. With pillars of white supporting a gable roof, its architecture resembled that of a temple in ancient Rome… or ancient Greece… she could never tell the difference. Lights and lamps shined upon it like it was some sort of exhibit. The building seemed almost gleaming under the darkened sky. It was surrounded by a half-brick wall, with pillars made of white brick, more lights adorned each one, and the pillars were connected by metal fences, painted white as well.

The entrance was split into two with a guard post in the middle. One was narrow, enough for one or two people at a time. The other entrance was larger, with a boom gate for cars and other vehicles. As they walked past the guard post, she could feel eyes watching her and her guide every movement. One-way glass separated her from what was inside, but she knew for a fact that they both were being watched. If Satoru felt as unnerved as she was, he gave no sign of it.

Cobblestone laid down a path from the side gate leading to the main building. A stone block was placed on the right side of the path. There were letters etched on it, "Police Station of Outer Tokyo, Tenth District".

The path led to a staircase. She felt small walking up the meticulously well-kept granite stairs, wide enough for ten people to walk side by side and still have room to spare. Two lion statues perched on either side, silently growling at the sky. When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw a set of double doors. Wood? No, at a closer look, the doors were metal, painted brown, and decorated with black and brown lines to look like wood.

She felt even smaller when she pushed past the door. The cavernous hall was enormous, too large for its supposed purpose. Lights lined the hall, so many, and shone so brightly she almost lost track of her own shadow. The floor was covered in milky white tiles, with cream-colored veining patterns so polished she could almost see her reflection. It was just ceramic tiles, but for a second, she mistook them for marble.

Even if the flooring was not paved with marble did not take away from the sheer opulence of everything. This place was too richly decorated to just be a mere police station.

The door closed itself behind them. They walked further inside and took off their masks. There was still a hint of smokiness in the air, but it dissipated soon enough.

The hall was empty, saved for the reception desk in the center. Satoru walked up to it, and she followed right behind. Their steps echoed, clack, clack, clack, as they walked forward.

The receptionist was a lady in her late thirties, with black, long and straight hair flowing down behind her back. She smiled as they came closer. No hint of mirth, merely professional courtesy.

"Good morning. What can I do for you today?" The receptionist asked.

"My friend here broke her ID. She needs it replaced."

"You can have it checked on the third floor, room B304, the stairs and the elevator will be in the left door at the end of the hall."

"Thank you," Satoru said, and they followed the instructions. Thank goodness that they took the elevator. Her legs were killing her for walking so much, no doubt they would fall off three steps up the stairs.

Seated at a metal desk in room B304 was a man. The desk was cluttered with papers, some blank and others filled with writing, scattered both on and off the desk. His writing instruments were in similar disarray, with a few even landing on the floor, and one was hanging from its holder by its cord. He was writing something on a piece of paper, but stopped when they came in. He nodded at them and asked what were they looking for.

She answered the question this time, and he told her to hold out her hand, the one with the broken chip. He put on a pair of thin white rubber gloves and began gingerly brushing the back of her left hand. Deftly, he probed and poked at her skin, feeling for the chip beneath. The gloves were thin and his hands were cold, goosebumps crawling up her arm. After a while, it seemed he didn't find what he was looking for. His face scrunched up in confusion. He then told her to place her hand, palm down, onto the contraption at the end of the room.

The contraption was a scanner, she realized, as a line of white light passed slowly over her hand, the first time was from the tip of her fingers down to her wrist, the second time was from the wrist back up to her fingers, and then the third time the light turned red, the line turned into a tiny square and focused on a single spot on the back of her hand, where the ID chip was. After a few seconds, the light turned off completely and the man, who was staring at the screen on the opposite side of her let out a soft hum.

"Well, looks like it's bent. Can't read a single thing from it. Now… Hmm… Let's see…" the man began searching around the room for something. Cabinets after cabinets, shelves after shelves. Files and documents, tools, pens, and papers were left scattered in his wake. He didn't pick any of them back up, not even after he knocked over a plastic potted plant, so single-minded in his search.

"Aha!" he celebrated when he found what he was looking for. It was a toolbox, and it sat under the chair by the machine, the chair which he was sitting on less than five minutes ago.

She made a disbelieving face at Satoru, and he gave one back.

From the toolbox, the man took out something that looked like a barcode scanner and pressed it to her hand. "Hold still for a second. And try not to scream." He said.

She was about to ask him what was he talking about, then she felt it. The back of her hand grew hotter and hotter until the heat grew unbearable. It was getting harder and harder to hold in the pain by the second. She didn't know when exactly did she take hold of Satoru's hand, but it didn't matter to her at that second. With it firmly in her grasp, she squeezed as hard as she could to ease her pain. It wasn't much help, but it was something. Finally, after a few more agonizing seconds, the man pressed a button at the back of the tool. A soft click was heard and she could feel the chip at the back of her hand snap back into its rightful shape, and after that, the heat was gone.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, uncalmly.

"Heh heh," He laughed. "Sorry, sorry. But it never gets old when people's faces distort like that."

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"Plenty before you asked the same question. Heh heh." He kept chuckling as if it was the funniest thing in the world. "And my answer each time was this." And then he shrugged.

HE SHRUGGED!

Oh, I'm going to strangle you here, asshole!

"Now, before you contemplate homicide any further. Catch…" He threw a small something at her. Burn cream? "On the house. Spread it on your hand."

"Um…" Satoru called out, hesitatingly, from beside her.

"What?"

"My hand, please…"

She was still holding onto it. Oh… "Sorry." She said as she released his hand.

The man, who was now back at his desk, pushed forward a tablet. "Check to see if there's anything else wrong with it."

She put her hand under the tablet, and "scanning" appeared on the screen. Some seconds later, it prompted for her fingerprint, so she placed her hand on it, and after a few more seconds, her information was displayed. The dates, the memories, the names.

She could not look away from the names.

Akaishi Anna, Akaishi Erzsébet, Akaishi Satou.

"My darling daughter, my little princess, how proud of you I am. Look at your achievements, look at your trophies. My drinking buddies will be green with envy. Not one of their daughters was as smart as you."

"Anna, have a slice of cake! It's your party today. Laugh, play, and enjoy yourself. Don't be so serious all the time."

Drip. No. No no no no no no. Keep it in. Keep it in.

"Your future will be so bright, my darling. I know it."

"Anna, we're bursting with pride."

"You are the greatest gift God has ever given us, our little princess."

Drip. Drip, drip. Keep it in, damn you. Stop remembering! Please, please, don't do that here. Please, I beg you, stop remembering…

"Anna! Run!"

"Go! Don't worry about us. We will find you when all of this is over! I promise."

You lied.

She could no longer stop herself from crying.

For how long she did not know, she kept crying. The tears continued to stream down her face, no matter how much she tried to stop it. She sniffled and hiccupped, gasping for breath between sobs. All the while a gentle hand squeezed her shoulder. Warm, she felt. Satoru's hand held firm throughout her outburst. She was thankful for that.

It took a while, but she finally wrangled her emotions enough to stop the tears from flowing.

"Thanks. But I think I'm good now." She said, after a few more hiccups. She wiped her tears away with the sleeve of the jacket. All it did was smear her face with soot and dust.

"Use the inside of your sleeves," Satoru said.

She did as he told her. "I'm okay now. I'm good. Thank you."

Satoru retracted his hand. A part of her wanted him to hold on for a few more moments, but another part told her he was just being nice. It told her that three days ago he didn't know she existed, and likewise she him.

She took another sniffle to clear her nose enough to talk. She turned to the man, who had politely looked away when she lost control of her emotion, "E-Everything was correct. Thank you."

"No worries," the man said. "Take your time. Few people come here on weekdays."

"No, no. I took enough of your time already. We'll be going now."

The man gave a soft sigh. "If you say so. Here is the receipt. You can pay it at the front desk or with the teller in the banking section."

"Thank you," they both said as they turned to leave. As they walked away, she could hear the man muttering to himself, "Where did all this mess even come from?"

They continued their walk in silence. She disliked it. She knew Satoru had questions, but he chose to not voice it out.

"I know you saw what was on that tablet." She said.

"Sorry," Sighing, he continued, "I can't fault you for that. You didn't know me when we were introduced, so keeping your real name hidden was the smart thing to do."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"So… what do you want me to call you now?"

"Just call me whatever you like."

"Keno, then."

"Now, where are we heading?"

"The bank. We need to pay this," He said, waving the receipt, "and while I'm here, I gonna pay a few bills early."

Banking, huh? Now that she is applying for a job, she might need to open a new account for herself. She didn't think she could do anything with the old one, anyway. And the thing he had just said, about "while being here"…

"This police station has a bank?" She asked.

"This bank has a police station, actually. The district's mayor had a deal with the bank's director right after he was elected. Something about making this place the reserve treasury. I'm not sure about the details. I didn't pay it much attention back then."

That explained the lavish decorations. But that raised another question. If this place was so special, why didn't it have more security? All she saw was the guard post at the gate.

Maybe there were more, and she just couldn't see it. Now everything looked so suspicious. How many voice recorders were in that plastic plant? Are there any cameras behind the ceiling light? And what about the portrait over there? Are there cameras behind its eyes?

She suddenly felt so naked. How many eyes were watching them this whole time? And how many ears are listening in right now?

She couldn't resist the urge to shudder.

Though, unless she wanted to look suspicious, it was best to ignore it and keep walking, as if she didn't have such a revelation.

As they walked on, she noticed Satoru seemed to be more familiar with the way to the bank part of this place than the administrative part. He didn't need to ask for directions and it didn't take up much time for him to take her to the bank teller.

There were some people in line before them, but the wait was not too long.

Satoru went in first and paid whatever bills he had. Then it was her turn. The process of making a new account was not too difficult. All it needed was her ID and phone number. The first was just fixed, but the second she did not have.

She was just about to call it quits and come back another day, but the teller said that she could use a temporary phone number now and then change it later at home when she had her own number. Satoru was reluctant, but gave them his number, anyway. The fees for the account and the money to keep it open were also paid by him. Yet again, her debt to him increased.

And it would only grow further as they were now inside a mall to buy her some work outfits and a phone. She argued with him about the latter, as she didn't need it now. She could just buy one when she had her own money, she told him. He disagreed and told her she needed it for work, not for personal use. "What would happen when the company needs to contact you, or when you need to contact the company? Did you plan to use my phone for everything until you get your first paycheck? What would happen when I was not around?"He asked.

She gave up arguing, and they went to the phone store and bought a phone. She sat in silence as the seller lady went on and on about the perks of each phone and all the things they could do. Satoru didn't care one bit. He picked out a phone that he said was "both cheap and perfectly functional" and refused to budge when the lady offered anything else. Seeing that she would get nowhere if she kept offering different phones when he did not want them, the seller changed things to peddle. She then lists a dozen different coverage plans, SIM cards, value packs, security programs, and more that make her head spin. The seller lady once again failed. Satoru bought only the SIM card and nothing else.

When they were at the checkout, she could see the seller lady's smile wavering and a vein popped on her forehead.

"Are you sure we don't need those things she talked about?" She asked Satoru when they left the phone store.

"Nah. I know her tricks. I use them myself. She just wanted us to buy as much as we can. Everything else was unnecessary."

"Not even the unlimited calling package?"

"We can call over the Wi-Fi. And unless you want to be called by network providers at two in the morning, I suggest not getting one."

Could they be that annoying? She used the unlimited calling package back inside the dome, and she remembered they call quite a lot. But surely they wouldn't call her at two in the morning.

Would they?

It was useless to think about such things, not like they would bother her now. So they continued their way to find her some work clothes. She saw places that sold stuff she really liked, and would surely make quite the impression if she wore them to work. But Satoru kept shaking his head and told her no. He kept saying that even if it was just an interview, she still needed to dress at least moderately decent if she wanted a chance of being accepted. How could he say they were indecent? Spikes and chains are the peak of fashion, he should know.

But he was the one more familiar with the dress code, so she relented. And so, they went through the mall, store after store after store, until they arrived at one that sells office clothing. Besides being the one paying for the clothes, Satoru was also the one who chose what she was going to wear, something about his distrust of her sense of fashion. As if he was any better.

His picks weren't bad all things considered, just typical female office wear. He picked out some skirts, a few cardigans, all in blue-black, and some white button-up shirts. He left her alone when she went to choose her underwear.

The look on his face at the checkout… She almost felt sorry for him. The clothes must have been expensive.

She wondered how much she owed him, and how long it would take for her to pay it back.

On the way back home, they passed by some stores selling food that made her mouth water, but she had no money, and she already spent so much of Satoru's, so she refrained from asking.

But it seemed Satoru noticed her longing looks.

"Want to go in for a bite?" He asked.

"No, no. You spent too much on me today. I can't possibly ask for more."

"It's just lunch. Just treat me back when you have the money."

It was he who asked, and it would be rude of her to deny it. And also, it's just lunch, as he said. How could she deny him when he asked so earnestly? Yes. This was because he asked. Not because she was hungry. No. Definitely not that.

Her stomach growled. Her face felt hot, and Satoru just chuckled. This was not the first time she heard him laugh, but it was the first time it was about something concerning her. It was a muffled thing behind the gas mask, but she still could feel the mirth from him. He seemed… alive, less of the corpse she saw the last two days.

After some searching, they bought Kitsune udon from a random store and then headed home. They took turns in the bathroom once again. She still wanted a hot bath. She said as much to herself in the mirror with that smeared and dirty face.

Satoru was the one who set up the table this time. Bowls, spoons, chopsticks, and a human waited for her at the small, circular dining table.

She put a spoonful of now lukewarm broth into her mouth. He really should get that microwave fixed, and soon. By the look, it was nowhere near the level of the ones she had before. It lacked scallions, narutomaki, and kombu, all that was left was just the noodles and the aburaage. But the moment she put it in her mouth, it was the best thing she had ever tasted. She even drank all the broth once she was done with the noodles.

While she was savoring the aftertaste of her lunch, Satoru stood up and cleaned up the table. He then cleaned the bowls and cutlery alongside the plate of yesterday's dinner. She offered to let her do it, but he declined, saying he missed the feeling.

She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but looking at him, humming a song, badly, while scrubbing a plate, she refrained from asking.

He seemed even more alive than ever before.

"We'll leave at twelve-thirty. We still have time, so I'm gonna take a quick nap," He said, after finishing his task and his off-keyed humming.

"Umu… Wait, can I borrow your phone for a second?"

"Why?"

"The phone number. Of my bank account?"

"Ah! Right."

He gave her the phone. No passwords or fingerprints were needed. She asked him why.

"Not like I have anything important to hide." He said and then left for the room at the end of the hall.

On both the homescreen and lockscreen of his phone were a picture of a… caduceus, made up of coiling serpents, with a gemstone of different colors in each's mouth. She saw only the front of the staff, with only four heads of the serpents, but no doubt there were more of them that the image couldn't capture.

The staff felt familiar. Had she seen it somewhere before? Was it in a textbook? On some sites she visited? Could it even be from the life before this one?

The last one sounded ridiculous. And not like the origin of this image was of any import to her.

She still had things she needed to do. Maybe Satoru just liked the image very much, so he chose it to be the primary display. It didn't matter to her.

The process of changing the phone numbers was done rather quickly, so it was time to give the phone back to him. Though… now it was the best chance she would ever get to get a glimpse of who truly was Suzuki Satoru.

No, wait, wouldn't that violate his trust? She shouldn't.

But he said he had nothing to hide. Surely he only said that if he didn't mind her taking a quick peek. This was the probably only chance she would ever get to know who Suzuki Satoru truly was…

She opened his phone's gallery. There are some strange photos in there. Some strange creatures standing in front of a pale white structure, a mausoleum, it looked like. The creatures surrounded the caduceus she saw. She counted forty of these strange creatures. Is this from a game? Is this from what he played yesterday, and these creatures were the friends he was talking with?

He must have loved this game, and these friends, she thought.

Besides those pictures, there's not much else. Some screenshots of emails, some looked like pictures of receipts. There were few pictures of Satoru himself, fewer taken recently. There was a picture of a teenage Satoru, wearing the exact clothes she was wearing, posing in a very spine-twisting pose, holding his phone to take a picture of himself in a mirror.

He looked adorable. She almost smiled.

The phone pinged, receiving an email. From someone named… Ulbert Alain Odle?

Dear Momonga, I regretfully inform you and everyone of…

Flying squirrel? What kind of nickname was that? She was about to open the email and read it more, but she hesitated. Was she really about to violate his trust even further? Snooping around his phone is one thing, reading his mail, personal mail, if she guessed correctly, was another kind of heinous entirely.

What was she even doing? This wasn't her. It's one thing to distrust someone, it's another to abuse their trust.

She knocked on Satoru's door. Hearing no answer, she opened it fully. She saw him there, lying on an old futon, sleeping soundly. His face was the same unsmiling one he wore most of the time, but it was peaceful. Decided that she shouldn't disturb him. The man was a corporate slave; he needed all the sleep he could get.

She left his phone on the nearby table and took her leave, soundlessly closing the door behind her as she did.

Time passed by, and she heard Satoru knocking on the door while she was setting up her new phone.

"Hey, it's time to go," He said.

"Sure, wait a minute."

She quickly finished with the current task on her phone, the rest she could do later. She changed into the suit they bought earlier. The thought of ironing them out completely slipped her mind, so now she must wear clothes that still have creases on them.

Satoru was already in his suit and tie. He showed no sign of being refreshed after his nap.

She noticed there were also creases on his shirt, but instead of packaging creases like hers, his were signs of neglect, of a man who just washed his clothes without ironing them afterward.

He yawned before putting on his mask. She resisted the urge to yawn after him.

Once again, they left his apartment. The screeching door was no longer as annoying as it once was.

They only walk for a little while and reach a train station. It was less crowded than she imagined. Satoru paid the train fares for them both.

They got off at the next station, walked a little more and arrived at a squat, gray building. They walked inside. There was no reception desk, no one to greet them. The only other person there was a janitor, cleaning away, uncaring of the newcomer.

They took off their mask, and Satoru told her to put hers in his locker since she didn't have one of her own yet.

She followed him up the stairs. They were worn with traffic, the patterns on the laid tiles no longer recognizable. The banister was rusty, its paint flaked off long ago, leaving only splotches of faded green clinging to the rusted metal underneath.

They walked up three stories, passed by a few more rooms, and then arrived at their destination. "Sales", the panel beside the door told.

Satoru opened the door and a couple dozen pairs of eyes glanced up from their desk to look at them and then promptly returned to their work. He took her to the door at the far side of the room, past a dozen cubicles.

Satoru knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, a gruff, gravelly voice bid him in.

The first thing that caught her attention was the sheer size of the man seated behind the desk. The desk was large, but compared to the man, it seemed small. There were very few things on the desk itself, a monitor, a mouse, a keyboard, some pens, a stack of papers, cables, some plugged, others hung limply by, and a bronze plaque with the letter "Sales Manager" etched onto it.

The manager himself was a fat man. An extremely fat man. Triple chin, a very wide face, rolls of fat hanging from his forearms, and wearing a suit that stretched so much that it seemed it would tear itself apart at the slightest movement. He eclipsed the chair he was sitting on. She could not see the chair, she could only imagine that it must have been an exceptional piece of furniture to shoulder a person this fat.

The man had black hair, black eyes, and a black mood when he saw them enter.

The reason must have been the half-eaten box of fried rice on his desk, alongside two more that were empty. There was also this faint scent of something greasy and oily in the air.

They disturbed him when he was eating.

The manager looked like someone who loved food. Maybe a little too much, even. The manager frowned. It seemed he noticed her silent judgment of him. Fortunately for her, Satoru spoke up.

"This is Mr. Wazaki Koijiro, the manager of the department," Satoru introduced her to Wazaki. "and this is the one I talked to you about yesterday, manager."

Wazaki glared at them both for a moment

"Just put your hand here," Wazaki said and placed a tablet on the table. She did as he asked, and then he took the tablet back. He then dismissed them both without even looking at the tablet.

"You know the procedure, Suzuki. I already send the test to your inbox. Grade it yourself then just send your evaluation back." Wazaki said and Satoru nodded.

"Come on," Satoru told her and they left, closing the door behind them. "There is an empty spot right next to mine. You can sit there."

She made herself comfortable in the cubicle. Tried to, at least. The chair was itchy, and it made strange noises whenever she shifted her position. When she leaned on it, the noises the backrest made spooked her into thinking she was about to fall.

She was told to plug in the cable, the large one that was hanging under the desk. She made sure the cable was clean before she put it in the socket at the base of her skull. The monitor on her desk turned on by itself right after.

Satoru guided her on the basics of everything she needed to do for the job. It was mostly just which command to use on the AI assistant in which situation.

She found Satoru to be a decent enough teacher. While he was not as eloquent as the professors of her university back when she was studying for her degree in Macroeconomics, he was concise in his explanation of what she needed to do whenever something popped up.

There was joy in his voice as he taught her what he knew. The hint of a smile and the shine in his eyes, as he showed her all the tricks and the shortcuts to use on the spreadsheet program, made him look almost… cute, in a strangely endearing sort of way.

"So that is everything you needed to know, for now at least. All that's left is to do the test. Don't worry, it was never difficult to begin with and Wazaki was too lazy to make new tests, he just recycles old ones that I've seen before. If you see something you forget, just ask, and I will show you how to do it again."

"Is that allowed?"

"Wazaki never cared. And by the end of the month, you will have done everything so much it's already second nature. So just don't worry about it."

If he said so.

He was correct that the test wasn't all that hard. It just told her to put numbers in a spreadsheet and use the correct command to sum, divide, and average them as stated by the test. Though she was ashamed to admit she asked for help more than once.

Looking over to Satoru's screen as he graded her test, she felt a knot in her stomach grow with each highlight of her mistakes.

"It's just a formality, don't worry. I never give someone a failing score before, even if they didn't owe me money." Satoru said with a chuckle.

If that was a joke, it was a horrible one.

She sat there, as Satoru checked and then double-checked her spreadsheet before he sent it via email to whom she assumed to be Wazaki.

After a few more minutes, Wazaki sent back an email with an attachment.

"What did he say?" She asked.

"He sent something for you to do, and tell me to print out the contract for you to work here. Log in to your email and any accounts you already have. I'll print this out to give to Wazaki and send you your work later."

She did as he asked, and later, Satoru returned. The work he sent over seemed to be very basic. She supposed it was understandable. She was new. It would be quite unwise to send her important or complicated documents right away.

She and Satoru continued their work well until late evening. Every time she didn't know how to do something, she would ask and he would help her. Once in a while, he glanced over and told her what she missed or what she did wrong. He helped her in almost every step of the way.

Maybe he was actually one of the few decent people left in this world, as rare as they were.

She didn't even realize the shift ended until Satoru told her. As they readied themselves to go home, she saw Wazaki walking out of his office. Thunk, thunk, thunk, Wazaki's metal legs sounded with every step. Cybernetics? Weren't those extremely rare and expensive? How can someone who was just a sales manager get his hands on them?

With a thud, Wazaki threw a stack of paper on her desk.

"Read, sign, then bring it to me tomorrow," Wazaki said, then left without another word.

They walked to the train station, now a dozen times more crowded than the last time they were there. It is the time most people get out of work after all.

It was packed on the train. She and Satoru were squished together. She felt like a sardine in a can.

The train started moving. A moment later, she felt someone's hand on her hip; it didn't look like Satoru's. She brushed it off. Most likely someone placed their hand there by mistake. It was a crowded train, after all.

Then it happened again. This time it was at her lower back, just barely above her buttocks.

Just great, now she has to deal with perverts on the train.

As she was about to turn around and give the bastard her full fury, Satoru put his hand on her shoulder. Slowly but surely, he shifted her over to where he was standing before, far away from the pervert. She wanted to ask him why he did that, but his eyes behind the gas mask told her, "Not now".

Once they were off the train, and a walked little farther from the station, Satoru asked her, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm glad. I saw it happen plenty of times. Usually, the women rarely do anything about it, they just let those perverts do anything they want and just leave the station as soon as possible. Everybody else just either didn't see it or didn't want to cause a commotion. And I admit, I was one of them. But seeing someone I know being in such a situation. I just wanted to do something about it. Sorry if I overstepped."

Yeah, you were overstepping was what she wanted to say, but he only wanted to help, just like everything else he had done ever since he dragged her unconscious body from the street to a hospital. He just wanted to help, she reminded herself. She held in her rebuke.

"Yeah, thanks. But I can handle him myself, just so you know," She said.

He sighed, "I know. I know. You must have dealt with worse back in your old job. I get it. But, seeing it happen to someone I know, I couldn't keep my cool. Sorry."

Old job? What… Oh, right, that. This man… It was getting harder and harder to get mad at him.

"No, you did good. I just want you to know if such things ever happen again, I can handle it myself. But… thank you. I mean it. Thank you."

"No problem. But bad things aside. Congrats, you got accepted." Satoru said beside her.

"Thanks. But was that too easy? Don't I need to see HR first or something?" She asked.

"HR was sacked months ago. The decision to hire and fire someone now belongs solely to the manager of each department."

"That's… not right… I thought there were protocols for these things?"

"There used to. But now that the company is merging with a subsidiary of a mega-corp. Massive layoffs happened starting a few months ago. HR went first. Half of sales also got sacked. And had it not been for Kenji being hit by a car and a whole mess happened earlier this week, Wazaki wouldn't have accepted you in so easily."

"Oh… I guess I'm quite lucky then."

She didn't know who this Kenji was, but she prayed for his quick recovery. His ill luck gave her this chance, and she will not waste it.

Make no mistakes. She did not take this chance because she wanted to live so badly. She hates it here. There was nothing she wanted more than to just keel over and die, to reunite with those she held dear. But if she did that, if she gave up, they would win, He would win. And… and she still has a debt to pay.

She owed Satoru. She would freely admit it if someone asked. It would be ungrateful of her to just go out without paying him back the favor, or rather, favors, he did to her. He saved her life, gave her food and a roof over her head. He even got her a job. Whatever his true motive was, she no longer cared. If he wanted her life, she would give it to him, gladly. He was the reason she still had it at all. If he wanted it, she would consider it her debt paid and give it to him.

But she didn't think he wanted it. Satoru seemed too… gentle to ask for such a thing. Still, she must pay him back for this chance of a new life. And for that, she must live. Because of her own spitefulness, because of Momon, who would have believed in her, and because of Satoru, whom she owed so much.

With her silent declaration done, she refocused herself back to reality. Satoru walked in front of her. Streetlights and neon lamps painted the world in vivid colors. Pink and purple and orange and green, a thousand signs and a thousand billboards. The black clouds in the sky now alight with ads and commercials by projectors from rooftops. The world seemed more colorful the more she looked. People looked more energetic, too. She heard muffled laughter, cheers coming from bars and restaurants, people who this morning were just trudging along now walk with a pep in their step. Everything seemed… alive.

She continued walking behind Satoru. From time to time, cars zoomed by, their yellow or white headlights and their red rear lights added to the assortment of colors around her. And for a single moment, the lights shined upon him. For that single moment, she saw who Suzuki Satoru truly was. Pale and gaunt and as sickly as a corpse, but the shadow that he cast on the wall beside them was tall and broad and great. A shadow that belongs to a king, or belongs to a hero, from a certain point of view.

Well, readers, I'm back. Did you miss me? Hehe, I hope you did.

To answer one of your questions. Yes, Keno will play Yggdrasil. But not now. I need to develop her and Satoru's relationship first. These things take time. Keno may not play Yggdrasil in the next chapter, or even in the next ten chapters, but she will play it. The core premise of my story was based on that very thing happening. I could just type "And then they fell in love," and then get into the meatier part of the story I planned, but that would be extremely boring, no?

And as I write each chapter, the more it deviates from the original path I put them on. It was really fun seeing the characters spiral out of my notes of them. To see them live out a dystopian slice-of-life story was not what I intended at first, but now could not stop having more and more ideas pop up and I could not wait to write more.

I am very proud of this chapter and I hope you guys would like it too.

Comment on what you like and what you don't like about this story and this part in particular. I smile at every comment you guys make.

So, until next time. I will see you all again next chapter, my dear readers.