The Mask Shatters
Chapter 19
"Hmph."
Author's Note
Long time no see. Hope all is well with you guys. Yes. Chapters are being slowly churned out and I do apologize once again. I am fully committed to realizing this story, but a few months ago I took on a new temporary job after being laid off from the previous "permanent" one. This job was an overnight shift, and it took a long time to get used to. Even now, I'm still struggling, but I'm in a better place for writing. It paid the bills, kept me afloat. That's what's important. Even more so, I've already found a new job that'll give me more time to write and I start on it very soon.
I very humbly apologize for delaying these chapters, I know some of you are probably tired of hearing it. But I mean it.
Now, to address chapter length: We will be permanently shortening chapters to between 3k and 6k words. It's a nice middleground to get a decent chapter out while not making them too long. Momentous chapters are gonna be exempt from this however.
Anyways, enough of this note. Enjoy the chapter! i know I had fun writing it out...
Arthur didn't move.
He couldn't.
Something held him in place.
Something beyond reason, beyond explanation.
His body felt frozen in time, like a statue made of flesh and bone.
But that was not all.
A sick, warm feeling rose in his gut as he beheld the sight of the yellow-eyed man, standing idly and all alone in the pouring onslaught before Arthur. Seemingly unphased by its stinging assault born from the skies above.
But that eerie idleness may have contributed to Arthur's wary stillness.
The man's arm was extended outwards, beckoning once more for Arthur to approach. But Arthur did not heed the call, and instead shot his head around the entrance, noting how no one else saw this man as odd and out of place like Arthur did. Everyone just avoided him, as if he belonged within the departing crowd of young students.
But Arthur recognized the man, while others did not.
The last memory he had of that Bank was of being confronted by this very man. With a hooked blade in hand and the other hidden within his pocket.
Now he was here.
What did he want?
Who was he?
Was he Yakuza?
Arthur gulped, unsure of the weight of the answers he quickly sought out. But eluded him they did, and instead of the confidence he felt with Ann's invitation, he only felt anxiety and a slight pang of primal fear with this man.
The stranger tilted his head, eyes narrowing as Arthur refused his demand.
So instead, he approached Arthur.
One foot in front of the other, ascending the stairs and crossing through the school's threshold like nothing was amiss or, in fact, illegal with this blatant act of trespass. As if he belonged.
Indeed, not even the other students seemed to notice anything to be amiss with this individual. They could see him, as they actively avoided running into him, and because of that he pressed forward, regardless of who was in his way.
He bumped chests with one student, moving past him as if it were nothing. This student disagreed.
"Hey, are you blind?" The student called back to him, eliciting the turning of a few heads as this individual stopped, swiveling a glare towards the student.
The student said nothing more, his angry eyes softening into a frightened pair of windows as he backed away from the yellow-eyed man, putting his hands up in an attempt to de-escalate the situation that he himself had escalated.
The man shook his head, before slowly turning back to face Arthur. The young American gulped, moving another foot back in retreat.
And soon, he stood before Arthur. Just mere feet in front of him, studying him up and down. Judging. Appraising. Arthur inched back another step in an attempt to put distance between the two, the school's overhang protecting him from the elements.
This man - this young Japanese man - looked no older than Arthur. Possessing eyes the color of bright gold and skin as pale as the moon itself, and deftly accompanied by a tuft of platinum-blond hair peeking out from underneath his cerulean hoodie which abundantly displayed no facial hair to virtually speak of, the man was the very literal definition of many gothic-leaning Westerners thought was a Bishonen anime character. His face seemed locked into a neutral trance, with even the rain apparently failing to bother him. Instead, while his clothes grew soaked, he just watched. Stared, more like. Rarely blinking.
And Arthur wasn't sure which was more unsettling.
"Uhmm…" Arthur looked at him, eyes widened and brows arched as this mysterious man looked him in the eye, quiet as could be. Arthur then cast a brief glance to the sky above, before quickly bringing it back down. "A-aren't you cold?"
The man didn't respond, and instead huffed as he crossed his arms. With a little shake of his head, he said, "I'm not impressed."
Arthur's brows furrowed, confused by that statement. "Uh, OK?" He said, casting his gaze to the sky once more as a thunderclap echoed in the distance. "You're getting wet…"
"And I care not." The man retorted gruffly, his accent betraying his otherwise Japanese-appearance. He stood there further, with students passing the two by as if nothing was wrong with this not-so-chance encounter. Arthur wasn't so sure. "A little rain is but a minor inconvenience."
Arthur, his eyes wide as a pang of fear dug its way into his heart, merely stood silent as the man stood before him. He was young, that much was clear just at a glance. Perhaps fresh from high school, foraying into adulthood like all must at one point or another.
Perhaps that's why the students ignored him. To them, he looked as if he belonged.
A stark contrast to how Arthur felt during his first few weeks at Shujin.
Arthur looked into his eyes, and memories of last night made their way to the clear forefront of his mind. Bright yellow windows piercing his soul, just like they had last night.
Indeed, he remembered this man.
And was no less wary of his intentions.
"H-how…" Arthur stuttered, stepping back another step as the memories came flooding back to him.
"Hmmm?" The man hummed, arching a brow as he stared Arthur in the eyes, expecting an explanation for himself.
"H-how-how did you find me…?" Arthur finally asked, stopping his retreat when he found himself satisfied with the distance between the two.
The man shook his head. "You are not hard to track." The man admitted, as if his admittance to stalking was nothing short of ordinary. "Really. An American waltzing through Tokyo? It's like you're leaving a trail in your wake, and like a trail, it's easy to walk."
Arthur just looked at him, dumbfounded. "W-what?" He had asked, squinting in confusion at this young, odd man. But the man simply sighed, uncrossing his arms as he stepped forward to close the distance Arthur had given.
"I really hope your wit isn't as dull as your sword arm." He said, eliciting a sharp huff from Arthur. Placing his hands in his hoodie, he jolted his head towards the gate. "Come. Let's walk and talk." He offered, stepping to the side to make way. "I happen to know a nice little spot with the finest meals and drinks. We can talk there."
Arthur didn't hesitate to shake his head, declining his invitation. "No. I don't think so."
This gave the man a brief moment of pause, tilting his head as looked at Arthur with a glimmer of surprise dawning in his otherwise emotionless eyes.
"Hmm?" He had hummed, blinking. "Did you say 'No'?" He asked. Arthur nodded, memories of a recent escapade entering his mind as the work he had spoken made its way into the man's mind.
All the while, the schoolyard slowly and gradually emptied itself of life.
"I know better than anyone these days what happens when you walk around with strange men." Arthur spat at him, a vehement venom coursing through his words as he accused the man of being a ne'er-do-well. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He said, stepping forward into the rain. "Tell Kaneshiro that he can come talk to me himself." Arthur stepped past the strange man, only to be stopped by a palm to his shoulder. Arthur cast a glance to his side, staring into a pair of unamused yellow irises.
"I don't work for Kaneshiro." He simply told Arthur. But Arthur had none of it, and slapped his hand away.
"I don't care." Arthur spat at him quietly, his initial shock having faded in the face of ready danger. "You can't just walk up to a student and ask him to follow you with a promise of free food." He said, before quickly adding, "In America, you'd get your ass beat y'know? O-or shot!" He growled, before turning away. "Goodbye."
The man closed his eyes, allowing Arthur to pass unchallenged. But after a moment he reopened them, casting a thin gaze around his surroundings before he turned to face Arthur. The school was now empty.
And the two no doubt looked like morons, standing idle and chatting with a maelstrom overhead.
"This is not very smart, kid!" The man called after him, raising his voice over the sounds of an echoing thunderclap, satisfied that they were alone. "We can help each other!" He affirmed, to which Arthur scoffed in annoyance that this man was unswayed.
"Leave me alone!" Arthur called back over his shoulder. Glaring, he shook his head as he placed a hand on the cold, drenched railing, and began a descent to the street below. But, undeterred just yet by both Arthur's reluctance and hostility, the man called back to him.
A sincerity in his voice, a sound Arthur wasn't used to hearing.
"I can help you get back into that bank!"
Arthur halted, one foot on the steps below. Swiftly, he shot his gaze back to the strange man. And, as he slowly turned to face him, he could've sworn he saw a glimpse of emotion peeking through the man's stalwart expression.
A little smirk, underneath a veil of calm neutrality.
The train ride was an awkward one to be sure.
A rocky, storm-ridden ride that saw very little conversation and an equally minimal level of contact in and of itself.
Arthur had, reluctantly, agreed to go with the man. Albeit his hesitation was, by and large, well-founded and as a result the man never left his vision. Even during the train ride to Shibuya, he sat across from him, staring. Watching. Unsure of what to do or what to make of this encounter.
The man did not return the gesture, and only shut his eyes. Apparently having fallen asleep on the silent journey. Arthur could hear him breathing, snoring more like, as did the other commuters. But nobody objected, nobody interceded. The man would get a few looks, and nothing more.
Even now, just looking at him, Arthur wasn't sure if he had made the right move, going along with this individual. But Arthur knew well the fantastical nature of that bank, and even more so his objective to regain entry. To have a lead was better than to have nothing at all, even more so to have it from someone who believed Arthur, let alone someone who was there in the flesh, just as Arthur was.
All seemed deaf, as he watched, observing this man in his entirety.
Reading him.
Studying him.
Ann had texted Arthur at one point, relaying to him that something very important came up and she had to cancel on the promise she would take a raincheck on lunch. Arthur couldn't help but sigh, but circumstances had changed for him as well. He was honestly hoping to get this out of the way and go meet her, but that was the ideal ending. Arthur was well versed in not receiving the ideal news, and responded to her text with a simple response that kept the idea fresh and open between the two for another time.
Eventually, the man awoke. Jumping in his seat, as if frightened. It jolted the nearby passengers, stirring them to look once more at this rather inconvenient of a man with nothing but contempt in their eyes and venom on their tongues. Arthur didn't even snicker, and just observed as the man took in his surroundings before landing on Arthur with his ever unsettling eyes.
He didn't say a word, at least not for the moment. He simply returned Arthur's stare, and soon his eyes carefully fluttered, and gradually, their staring contest ended with the man, silently and blissfully, falling back into slumber.
When they finally arrived at Shibuya, it was a simple silent walk from the train to the surface. The two were constantly dogged by tailgaters and pushy businessmen that garnered the ire of local security.
"I don't give a damn if you're Buddha himself!" One such man was shouting, gathering a small crowd as security surrounded the belligerent individual. "Do you not realize who I am? And I am very late, so get out of my way!"
"Sir, please cooperate…"
Arthur didn't stop, however curious he was. It was not his business, and he had to keep up with the strange man, who didn't stop for anything or anyone that was in his way.
Indeed, he moved as if the whole world was to make way for him. To part like the sea of the masses it was.
"Hey!" A woman scoffed, shouting as the man roughly bumped shoulders with her, nearly causing her to drop her cellphone.
Arthur stopped a brief moment to apologize on his behalf because quickly catching up with the young, and apparently rude, man.
When they reached the surface, they both stopped dead in their tracks, with Arthur idling behind him as he took it all in.
Rain pouring from the sky, people running to and fro with umbrellas and raincoats, shouting concerns or obscenities to the various deities they worshiped.
Girls from Shujin and beyond huddled together by the exit of the Ginza line, murmuring to themselves and attempting to avoid the rush hour traffic that refused to be delayed by a "little" storm.
"This totally sucks!" One said, earning whispers of acknowledgment from her social allies.
"I agree, it's so cold!" Another agreed, scoffing. Arthur couldn't help but look at her, noticing that she was shivering. "Why does Shujin make us wear these damn skirts?!"
"Because they're pervs, that's why." Another piped up, huffing with a tone of disapproval. "After all, look at Kamoshida…"
Boys were being boys, however, regardless of their age. Little kids playing in the water, fleeing from their parents giving chase. Laughing and giggling. The older boys were a bit more well behaved, on the other hand, occasionally shoving each other with playful laughs on stomping into the puddles, seeing who could make the biggest splash.
Occasional murmurs of discontent arose, however. Some of school life, of homelife, of recent events, of rumors, of politics. Some were babbling on about how dangerous Shibuya has gotten as of late.
But to Arthur, you couldn't tell by looking.
The man grumbled, taking it all in. "All these people…" He said, catching Arthur's fleeting attention. Placing his hands in his jacket pockets, he shook his head in what seemed to be disappointment. "...And not a one understands the game the mind plays… Of the wants and desires of a heart, and how warped those could become…"
He pivoted slowly, facing a confused Arthur. His dim expression unfading as he opened his mouth to speak once more. "Except, perhaps, you."
Arthur blinked. Unsure of what that meant. A crypticism that reminded Arthur of Igor, oddly enough. Just as confusing as it was nonsensical.
"Err… What?" Arthur asked.
"Wallace." The man responded, dodging the question entirely. Arthur arched a brow, his confusion growing by the second.
"Again, what?" Arthur asked once more, scratching his head as befuddlement turned to the forefront of his mind.
"You never asked me for my name." Wallace simply said. "It's Wallace."
"Oh." Arthur hummed, unsure of what to say or do with that information. He didn't ask, and as of this moment, he didn't particularly care. He was more interested in this man's knowledge than anything else. "Uh… My.. my name is Arthur…"
"I know." Wallace turned about, putting his back to Arthur. "Come on. We're a stone's throw from our destination."
Arthur blinked. A brief pause followed right before he jumped forward. "Hold on, hold on!" Arthur stammered, grabbing the man by his shoulder, spinning him around before the man had a chance to react. "You 'know'? What do you mean by that? How'd you know my name?"
Wallace deadpanned, eyes slowly drifting between Arthur and his firm grip. He was silent as the grave, with a frown forming as Arthur's eyes widened as he realized the mistake he made. Staring at Arthur dead in the eyes, his displeasure was as visible as the blue he wore and just as obnoxious.
Wallace's frown turned into a sneer, and in a low tone, Wallace snarled "Get. Your. Hand. Off. Of. Me."
Arthur gulped, releasing him and moving a step back. Nodding, he watched as the man dusted off his shoulder, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Arthur all the while. "Don't ever touch me again." He added as his hand slithered back into a pocket, angry eyes glaring into Arthur's soul.
Arthur nodded once more. "Noted." Before quickly stammering out "B-but, you still haven't answered my question. How did you know my name?"
Wallace simply huffed, turning his back on Arthur. "As I've said: You're not hard to track, 'Baker Act'."
Arthur's eyes swiftly narrowed, brow furrowing with a sudden dirge of offense pinging his mind. A sudden, angry warmth rose in his gut, and so much so he could even feel something writhing inside of him.
Something glaringly furious.
As if Shiro himself had just turned over in his slumber.
"You did not just call me that." He growled slowly, to which Wallace simply scoffed and ignored the comment.
"Come on." He said, jolting his head forward. "The storm isn't going to let up just yet, and we're almost there."
Wallace put a foot forward, and Arthur just watched him go, silent and still. He raised a finger, attempting to stop Wallace once more.
Stammering, he called out to him with irritance in his voice. "B-but! B-but! Wait! Hold on!"
But Wallace simply ignored him. Putting distance before himself and Arthur, whether knowingly or uncaringly. Arthur's mind was jumbled with the mention of the "Baker Act", and he stuttered, blathered, and stammered. Trying his best to stop Wallace. But it was to no avail, for Wallace continued the march forward.
Arthur eventually stopped himself with a grunt, and for a brief moment he took in a deep breath, fist clenching shut tightly as the words echoed in his skull.
"Baker Act. Baker Act. Baker Act."
These words, painful reminders of a mistake since passed, did nothing but infuriate him. And, try as he might, he could not contain all of the fury that boiled in his gut.
His fists shook, and he growled deep and loud as Wallace finally stopped to look back at him.
A quizzical yellow eye followed Arthur, and he took a step forward.
"You only get one, 'Wallace'. He murmured. "You only get one."
Post-Chapter Author's Note
Edited by Frozen Foe and Kabuto S. Inferno