Truth: Suzuki Satoru
Despite it being Sunday, they both woke up early. Chores were his reason, and hers was another nightmare. She didn't tell him she had a nightmare, of course, and even if she did, she couldn't have told him what the nightmare was about either. This one she forgot as soon as she woke.
But she felt refreshed all the same. The same could not be said of Satoru, though. When she saw him, his eyes sagged, both sunken and puffy, but they were not red. He had not cried in the night, at least. He had his sleep, but it was restless.
They took turns in the bathroom, and he came out as ragged as before. They ate their breakfast, but neither spoke a thing. He was too busy nursing his head and she feared a conversation would only ache it further.
Even when he looked like he could collapse any moment, Satoru said he was going out for groceries. She tagged along, concerned.
On the way there, they found some vending machines while waiting for a red light. Satoru bought canned coffee for himself, the kind with so much caffeine in it, she was sure it could kill any small animals. The coffee would keep him awake for now, but the crash afterwards would be catastrophic.
She advised against such a method to keep himself awake, but he waved her concern away. He even offered to buy her a can. She didn't want to die of a heart attack so she refused, but with his insistence, she decided on some lemon-flavored water. If he crashed on the way home, at least she would be awake enough to drag him back.
The drink tasted well enough, but it did not come close to real lemon in fresh water. Too sweet and too lemony, it tasted artificial. Drinking it was also a hassle, even with the provided straws, it was hard to drink through a gas mask.
When they finally reached the supermarket, the automatic glass doors opened with a faint electronic ding, almost inaudible amidst the loud rumble of the air filters above, alongside the giant flatscreen with its loudspeakers screaming everlasting about products and deals and all sorts of other ravings. Her ears begged for respite.
As they went inside and the glass door closed behind them, the rumbling quieted and the announcements faded. And as they walked further in, those sounds got more and more drowned out by the noises inside.
The rumbled of machinery and the false peppy voices were silenced by the clacks of footsteps, the thuds and thunks of boxes stacking upon one another, and the far-off chatter echoed and blended in with each other, forming an indistinct, incoherent, and indecipherable whisper. It felt peaceful, almost serene.
She found the supermarket here was not much different from the ones back inside the dome. Aisle and aisle stretched as far as the eye could see. Rack upon rack of the same products in different brands, placed to best wring out as much money from shoppers as inhumanly as possible. Only here, the products were cheaper, and of a lesser quality, she mused.
The first thing she saw when she entered was the sweet treats. Cakes, cookies, and candies sat on a table, right opposite the entrance. The first out of the many temptations that lined the path to the essentials, food, and water, things that people need to survive. A mere scheme to trick people into buying more than they need. She knew so from her days in university. The days where she thought this life was a gift, a reward for her righteous crusade in her past life.
Now she knew better. This life was as much a punishment as the last. For what crimes? she did not know. Only that given the choice, she would do everything the same way all over again. She stood by the path she chose. The things done were righteous, all.
She and Satoru had to walk all the way to the back for the things he needed. Nutrient paste, in packets and in tubes, lined the wall. A few she recognized, some she had stolen before, and some she had only seen today.
She took one of the tubes from the shelf to examine it, 'Bacon and eggs flavour,' it told. When was the last I ate the real thing, she wondered. The taste still lingered in her memory. The crunchy, oily, and fatty strips of pork, the eggs with white browned to crispy perfection while the yolk was still runny, with a little bit of salt and pepper, and a side of soft, fluffy white bread.
She remembered her father's habit. He loved breaking open the golden nectar with his fork and spreading it onto the bread, then he added the strips of bacon and took a big bite from his half-sandwich. Exactly like someone from her past life, a large, vulgar woman, but always cheerful, always welcoming, and always ready to help.
She remembered the adventures they had, the dangers they faced together, and the laughter they shared. The woman's cheerfulness spread like a plague. It softened their hearts and brightened their days, even in the bleakest of nights. Now, the woman was lost, and so was her name.
She placed the tube back into its place and looked back to see what Satoru was doing. She saw him deliberating between two tubes of paste of the same flavour, steak. His eyes were focused and sharp as he analysed them.
That was good. The crash had not yet begun to claim him. Perhaps she had enough time to get something for herself.
"I'm going to go and buy some stuff," she said. "I'll be right back. Don't wait for me, if I don't see you here, I'll wait at the checkout."
"Hmm? Sure, go ahead." He returned to his deliberation.
She wandered around the supermarket and passed by the meat and dairy aisle. The cold prickled at her skin. She took a quick glance, and even though it did not surprise her that none inside was real meat, their price almost made her jaw drop. Mushroom-based and artificially grown meat, chicken, pork, and beef flavoured, none from an animal, and all expensive. The cheapest cut was a tenth of her current salary.
If this was what false meat cost, how much did it cost for each of my meals? She stopped her musing mid-way. Focus, who knows how long Satoru can last.
She rushed to get some women's products, and also a toothbrush. Then, she returned to the nutrient-paste aisles only to find Satoru wasn't there, so she made her way to the check-out counter and waited.
The next fifteen minutes went by too slowly for her liking, she even began to worry something had gone wrong, but when she saw him approaching with the shopping cart, she was relieved. She made her way to him and saw what he had bought. A box of nutrient pastes, steak flavour, and some scattering tubes of other types. There was also a box of beef stew-flavoured instant ramen, in packets instead of cups. Did he buy it for her? She looked at him in silent accusation. His eyes glint in mischief behind the goggles, but he neither confirmed nor denied it.
She piled her stuff into the cart and waited with Satoru in the checkout line, and it was a long one. It couldn't be helped, she supposed. Sunday was the only day in the week most would have the time for grocery shopping.
Once in a while, Satoru yawned from beside her, so, to keep him awake, she and him conversed. They talked about mostly mundane things. The things they bought, what chores he needed to do, and what each will do afterwards.
During the conversation, she had this uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, a feeling she hadn't felt so keenly in so long. She was being watched.
She glanced around, feigning interest in sales and flashy products while scanning her periphery for signs of people looking at her. There were three, she noticed. A man, at the back of the line, in a velvet suit and a black tie, striped white. His shopping cart was suspiciously light, with only a carton of cigarettes and two packs of beer.
Another was a woman. Even though the woman looked in the opposite direction of her and Satoru, she held in her hand a pocket mirror and looked as if she was fixing her dress and coat. But her movement was too slow, too hesitating, and she kept repeating the same movements over and over. As if she was not focusing on her reflection and instead was focusing on something else behind it.
There was also this little boy, about seven years old, a few paces behind her and Satoru, who was staring, almost unblinking, at them. There was a chance he was being curious as any other boy his age, but she shouldn't discount the possibility just yet. Child soldiers were open secrets, according to her father.
She glanced over at Satoru, who seemed to not notice the people watching them. Was it because he didn't realize it? Or he had, but did not want to cause a scene? Maybe he didn't care? Or maybe this was some false danger her mind conjured up because her paranoia was acting up again.
Thinking about it would do nothing, it was best to wait and see if they would follow her and Satoru any further than this. She would think of an escape plan then, in a space that had more options than here.
After Satoru finished at the checkout, they both went home. She kept the conversation up with Satoru while looking over her shoulders. No one seemed to follow them. She let out a sigh of relief. She was being paranoid after all. But still, when they returned to the apartment, she felt the need to check, to put her mind at ease.
The door was closed shut, the locks were still there, and no disturbances from the windows' curtains. There were no signs of someone sneaking in while they were away. She was safe here. She is safe here, she told herself.
After she was done reassuring herself, she found Satoru stocking up the kitchen cabinet, yawning all the while. She told him to go to sleep and let her take care of things. With his mind too fuddled to argue back, he listened, for once.
She finished putting things into their rightful place, and then she swept and mopped the apartment for him. This was the least she could do, after everything he had done for her.
When she was done, she decided to check up on him in his room. And to her disappointment, he didn't sleep, or didn't sleep for very long, he said. Did he really expect her to believe that excuse?
Whatever. With how drooped his eyelids were, he wouldn't be awake for long, at least when he crashed, it would be in his own room.
They spent the rest of the day doing their separate things. He stayed in his room, sleeping… she hoped. She found a good fantasy drama to stream on her phone. It was about the adventure of a knight in shining armour and the princess he saved after her country had fallen and she lost everything.
It's just like my life… in a way.
She had always fancied a life just like in the fairy tales and in the songs of bards, so it came as quite a surprise when her life now resembled one so much. Though, she wasn't quite the princess, and her saviour wasn't rich enough for a shining suit of armour. But it's the thought that counts, she chuckled.
In the afternoon, Satoru emerged from his domain looking as fresh as if he was born yesterday, with a goofy grin on his face. She couldn't help but smile at him.
"You seem happy," she said.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just had a productive day, I guess."
"I'm glad."
She didn't understand how can one be productive when playing video games, but he had his fun, and that was what mattered.
"I know that look," he said. "You are asking yourself, 'What can be so productive about playing some game all day?' aren't you?"
"Well," she said. "It is just a game."
Satoru looked offended when she said that.
"Yggdrasil is more than just a game. It is a world of its own. Even now, ten years after it was released, there are still secrets being found every week." Then, a cheeky look crossed his face. "Ten minutes playing and you'll never play anything else again. I'll show you. Here, come."
"No, thank you. I'm good."
But her words fell upon deaf ears as Satoru half urged and half shoved her into his room. Once inside, he forced her to sit on the chair he had spent the whole day on.
"Wait a second," he said. He then put on the helmet and plugged the black cable into the socket at the back of his neck. "Just let me log into my character… and… done. Here. Take it."
He took off the helmet and pulled out the plug from his nape and gave them to her.
"Try them on," Satoru said, urging her. He seemed excited to show her his favourite pastime, too excited for her to reject him outright. His excitement was a mix of a child showing her his favourite toys and a man showing her his greatest achievement.
A man-child showing her his favourite video game, she mused.
That was rather harsh of her. He had shown her he was a productive member of society. Well, as productive as one can be in this hellhole at least. It was a good thing that he had found something to distract him from the hand he was dealt.
During their conversation while on the way home, she realized how lonely Suzuki Satoru truly was.
His was a pitiful tale. He no longer had a family or relatives, not even far-flung cousins. He had few friends, most of them he did not even know the face of. His boss hated him, and his co-workers were as disinterested in him as he, them. He was all alone in this world.
For him to have found some comfort in all the madness of this place, she should cheer him on, but she had no interest in these kinds of role-playing games. After all, compared to what she had been through, or at least what little of it she remembered, these games were pale imitations. Mere role-playing, like a child who had found a stick and called himself a knight with a holy sword.
But seeing so much joy radiating from Satoru, she couldn't possibly say no. He did so much for her, she should indulge him, at least this one time. What harm can it do?
She lifted the hair from the back of her neck and plugged the cable in.
"Oh, but be careful, the first time playing a dive-game can be a little disorientating," he warned. "Don't worry, just a bit of dizziness and loss of balance. Stay still for the first couple of minutes, so your brain can familiarize itself with the graphics. And if at any point you feel dizzy, close your eyes until it passes."
With a nod, she placed the helmet on and the world turned black, but only for a moment, as the next, her vision was filled with colours. Bright, shiny, and flew past her in streaks of multicoloured lights. It would have been mesmerizing if it hadn't given her a pounding headache.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the lights and the headache to pass. It took at least another minute for her to feel comfortable enough to open her eyes again. When she did, she found herself in a rather luxurious room.
She now sat at a grand table, perfectly round and carved from stone as black as ink. Golden lines veined the table, etched to resemble hundreds of petals and vines, blossoming from the blood-red cloth at the centre. Surrounding the table were dozens of chairs, close to fifty if her guess was correct. Each of the chairs was made with the same inky black stone as the table, with red cushions and veined with gold also. They exuded quite the elegance to them, elegance that never before had she seen in this world, or the last.
She looked around and found herself alone.
"You are safe in Nazarick, so try to get a hang of the controls. First, imagine yourself standing up."
Nazarick, something about that name, where had she heard it before?
"Come on, you can do it. Just try standing up," Satoru urged her. She thought of standing up, and her view rose. But then a sudden sense of vertigo overcame her. Her vision was spinning and she felt her stomach roiling in discomfort. She reached out a hand to hold onto the table, but it felt numb, it did not stabilize her at all. She reached out the other hand and felt the same. She felt herself wobbling, swaying, ready to fall. Then she felt a pair of hands holding onto her shoulders.
"It's okay," Satoru said, "you are not falling, it's just the game, you are not falling. Close your eyes, breathe in, deeply."
She did.
"Then exhale, slowly."
She did.
"Do it again."
She did.
After a couple more times of doing that, she opened her eyes to find her vision no longer spinning. But she still stood hunched over, her hands still clung to the table. Her skeletal hands. Skeletal hands that held nine rings, five on the right, four on the left.
A sense of dread washed over her. No, no, He would not be here, she tried to calm herself. It was a strange coincidence. He could not be here, not in this new world, and certainly not in a video game of all places. A trick of the mind. It was some skeletal hands. Not His, it was Satoru's, yes. Not His.
"Feeling better?" Satoru asked.
"It's fine, I'm fine. I'm starting to get used to it."
She stood up and let her hands fall to her sides, far from her sight.
In the next few minutes, Satoru guided her through the basics of controlling the 'avatar', the player's character. She walked, she ran, she jumped, she ducked, she even flew. He then taught her to cast spells from the 'hotbar', and to differentiate from health, the red bar in the corner, and mana, the blue bar below.
She also noticed the name "Momonga" above them both. So the email from before was from a friend in this game.
"See the panel in the bottom right of the screen?" Satoru asked, "Click on the [Menu] button, and then click the [Character], it will show you your character as well as your equipment and inventory as well."
She clicked on the [Menu] then [Character] and then…
No, it can't be…
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
It can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be.
Why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why…
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
In the [Character] screen, Ainz Ooal Gown stared back at her.
She tore off the helmet and let it fall down to the floor. She pulled out the cable, hard. Hard enough she heard an audible pop and crack coming from the port at the base of her skull. Either the plug or the port was damaged. She didn't care. She rushed to get away from everything, from the game, from the room, and especially, from Him.
She flung the door open and ran into the first room she saw, the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and collapsed beneath it. 'How' and 'why', her mind repeated. Over and over and over again.
She felt lightheaded, her vision blurry, she could not focus, her hand felt so clammy yet her mouth felt so dry. It was fortunate that it was the bathroom that she went into, because the very next moment, her dinner was crawling at her throat, begging to be let out. She planted her face into the toilet and let it empty itself, and only when nothing but water and spit escaped her mouth did she stop.
She collapsed back onto the floor of the bathroom exhausted and scared. Her mind reeling from what she had seen. Ainz Ooal Gown… Suzuki Satoru… How? Why?
Why did Satoru's game character resemble that monster so? What is the connection between them? Was Suzuki Satoru and Ainz Ooal Gown one and the same? Are they different? A mere coincidence? Or was there something more unthinkable happening in the background?
Questions, questions, QUESTIONS, AND ONCE AGAIN, I HAD NOT AN ANSWER.
She curled up into herself. Her hands shook, her legs numbed, her mind buzzed, her throat burned, and her blood ran cold. The world spun. Sweat clung to all parts of her from scalp to toes. She felt sticky and unclean. She wanted to get out, but He might have waited for her at the door, and there were no windows in sight. She was trapped.
A knock on the door, then another, then another, then a series more, hurried, rapid, frantic.
"Keno! Keno! Are you okay in there?" The voice asked, ceaselessly knocking all the while.
She feared that with each knock, the door would shatter, and in came Him. He would reveal that all the time she spent in this world was a lie, that it was nothing but an illusion, that this was her punishment, that she had disappointed him by not suffering enough, and that he was here to do what the world had failed to do.
But the knocking stopped.
"I-I," the voice stuttered, "I-I don't know what happened! Was there anything wrong? Please, say something!"
The voice felt grating to her ears. False, evil, vile, despicable, ugly, monstrous.
"SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" she bellowed with whatever was left in her. And when the last piece of strength left with the words, she broke. Tears streamed down her face.
She didn't know how long or how much she had cried, but with how thick the dried tears she felt on her face, it must have been a while. And a lot. She wanted to know what time it was, but when she searched her pockets for her phone, she realized she had left it in the Sato- that monster's room.
Frustrated with herself, she now realized her only path forward was to leave the bathroom, a sure way to collide with him who lurked outside the door. But she did not want to be here any longer, not just in this apartment, this city entirely. She wanted to be as far away from that thing as possible.
She cracked the door open a little, enough for one eye to see into the hallway. No sign of Him. Good. She opened the door fully and stepped outside but she kicked over something in her rush to get away. Her mind flashed with fear, a trap? but when she looked down, it was only a water bottle, and right next to it, was her phone.
You think you are so smart, trying to trick me like this? The phone was a trap, he must have put something inside it to track her down if she were to take it with her. The Sorcerer King was renowned for being all-knowing, omniscient, and omnipotent. But if he thought this ploy could trick her, he might not have been as smart as what people said.
She looked around again, and her heart leapt to her throat when she noticed him sitting at the end of the hall, his back to the door, but when she noticed his eyes were closed, relief washed over her. A fleeting feeling, undead don't need to sleep, she remembered, danger flooded her mind. She redoubled her effort to get as far away from this place as possible.
She ran to the door and her hand shot out to take a gas mask from the hook on the wall, she put it on while the door shrieked open. Shit, he expected this. She turned her head around to see him roused, groggily trying to stand up, still playing the act of sleeping. A part of her wanted to praise him for being such a good actor, but another part, the sensible one, told her to run as fast as she could.
She did not wait for the door to open fully and pushed herself outside as soon as the door was wide enough for her to fit through. Once out, she ran to the staircase, but she did not run down, she ran up and ducked behind the concrete railing.
A moment later, she heard footsteps run past her and down the stairs. Waited for another moment to be sure that He had left, she ran down and left through the staircase at the other side of the complex.
She reached the street and finally felt a semblance of safety. Not far enough, she scolded herself. He could still be around any corner. So, she ran and ran, and ran, until she turned a corner and collided with something, or rather, someone.
The person she ran into was a large man, twice as tall as her, with wide shoulders, thick arms, and hands that looked like they could crush her head as easily as a squeeze. There was also another man behind the first, while not as large, he was still much someone she couldn't handle in her current state.
It was too dark for her to see their faces, but even if it was brighter, they no doubt wore gas masks. Only fools would not wear one out here.
She apologised and took a step back. Her instinct told her she was in danger, but before she could run away, her hands were grabbed. She tried to wrestle it free, but couldn't, so with the other hand, she punched him in the face. It did nothing, and in the next moment, both of her hands were seized. She struggled as hard as she could, but this body never had the strength of her previous, so her efforts were in vain.
The second man took ahold of her legs and she could do nothing but twist her body like a worm in their grasp. With her held firm in their hands, the two men moved her from the street and went somewhere and did something she dreaded to guess.
"Let go of me," she struggled out, still trying to wrestle back the control of her own limbs. The two men responded with nothing. Seeing no other choices, she did the last thing that would ever come to mind; she yelled for help. Her voice was muffled with the gas mask still on.
She yelled eight times, and with each, her voice got hoarser and hoarser. But no one came. She redoubled her struggling and was rewarded with a backhand, she couldn't tell which of the two hit her, it didn't matter anyway. She continued to yell.
Her hope faded with every breath and she thought about giving up, hoping if she didn't struggle too much, the two men would be quick and would leave her be afterwards. But then, she saw a metal pipe strike the taller man in the face, his gas mask deformed after the strike. In reflex, he let go of both of her hands and she fell shoulder-first onto the ground. By then, the man who held her legs had let go also, trying to help the first man to fend off her saviour.
She got on her feet as quick as she could manage. In the darkness, she saw only glimpses and blurred movement, but the silhouettes of the two burly men were distinct in their size, compared to the small shape that harassed them.
Without needing to think, she lunged at the smaller brute, her arms wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. His hand shot up, clawing at her arms. The pain felt raw, but she would not let go. The man seemed to notice this, too, as he stopped trying to tear off her arms. She felt him moving, and she knew right then what he was about to do; she braced herself for the wall and half a second later, she felt it slammed into her back. But she would not let go. The man retreated from the wall, then slam her into it again, and again. By the fifth time, she lost her grip, but she still had tricks up her sleeves.
She grabbed hold of the brute's mask and tore it off of his face on her way down. If she couldn't choke him, she would let the toxic air do it for her. She hit the ground with a thud, and with a backward roll, she was upright the very next moment.
The brute swiped at her with one hand, the other he held to his mouth and nose. It would do little, she knew, the toxic air would fill his lungs with each breath, scorching it. He would smell nothing but ash and dust and his eyes would water. Blind and mute, and with only one hand to defend himself, she rushed back in for the kill.
With a running start, she dropkicked the thug in the guts and he doubled over, she retreated for another kick, and this time, she aimed at his face. He fell backwards into the wall of the alley. She would not let him get the chance to recover, he was on him a moment later.
She straddled his neck with her legs and held on as hard as her legs could handle. His hands shot up and grabbed ahold of her thighs, clawing at them as he did with her arms. She used this to her advantage. While he was busy unhooking her from him, she laced her hands together, then beat it down onto his face. Right eye, nose, mouth, nose, nose, left eye, left eye, mouth. He tried to turn his head and she hit him on the temple. He responded by almost crushing her legs. She dug her thumbs into his eyes. His scream rang across the alley.
The rush of victory washed over her, but only for a moment, the next she was yanked off of the brute and flung backwards. She collided with someone and both landed sprawl onto the pavement.
She untangled herself from the heap she was thrown into and got on her feet after a few seconds. The two thugs stood opposite her, ready to lunge at her and the one behind her. But they never had the chance. She felt herself being picked up and carried away. The two thugs chasing right after.
She looked back to the one who held her in their arms. It was hard to make out their features in this dark, but she saw that he was a man, pale and thin as bones.
Her heart raced, she was in the arms of the monster.
She struggled and squirmed, she thrashed and threw, but that monstrous thing refused to let go. Don't take me back. Please. Please. Please. Just kill me already. I beg you.
As if hearing her silent pleas, the monster's arms tightened. At last, she thought. Set me free.
She even stopped trying to breathe. This was it. Her final seconds on this Earth. She readied herself for her inevitable end. Once again, she lost everything, and at her lowest, He waited, the reaper who come for the seed that he'd sown. Now, he collected what was his by right, the end, the death.
But nothing happened. His arms wrapped around her, tight as a vice, but it was not painful. As if he wasn't planning to harm her, but rather he didn't want to… let her go.
"I'm sorry," he whispered beside her ears. "I'm sorry. I don't know. What I did. But please. Not now." He gasped out between breaths.
Forgive you? After what you have done?
He had taken everything from her. He had killed her friends and destroyed every home she had, and after he had… he had… given her a place to stay. He had allowed her to salvage her life… He had saved her, that day on the street, and even now He was still saving her.
Why?
Why had he done all that? Why had he been so good to her? Why I am alive?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
She didn't know. She didn't understand. Who was he? Was he Satoru Suzuki? Was he Ainz Ooal Gown? And who was she?
She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. All strength left her. She collapsed into his… embrace, she realized. He wasn't crushing her, she was held in his embrace.
Warm, she felt. She looked up at him. Through tear-stained eyes and fogged-up goggles, she saw him. Darkness clouded his face, but every so often, he ran beneath the lights. Only then did she truly see. Ragged thin, pallid and pale, ready to collapse at the slightest touch, but he also towered over her, eclipsing her in his shadow.
Half a corpse and half a god, he was… a man with the shadow of a monster.
But how? Was this the past? His past? How did she come here? Why did she come here? Who or what sent her here? And what I am supposed to do?
She couldn't understand. But she wanted to. How?
The game.
Yggdrasil.
Perhaps she could find the answer there…
Perhaps she would finally understand if she joined him in that game of his. But now…
"There's nothing to forgive," she said. "I should be the one to apologise. I just saw something that reminded me of things in my past, I freaked out. And now, I dragged us into this mess."
"I…" The words stuck in her throat. "I am sorry"
It felt strange on her tongue. Was that the first I've ever apologised to someone?
"You've scared me. Quite a bit. Back there. With your stunt," he said, still running and grasping for breaths. "But I'm glad you're fine now."
With her in his arms, he ran as fast as he could, but she could tell the two behind them were faster. They got closer and closer to her and Satoru with each second passed.
She looked around. The place they were in was familiar, but it was still far from home and from any possible help.
Perhaps if they stand and fight, and win, they would be left alone. She needed to find a place that gave her and Satoru some advantages over their assailants.
But the two who were chasing them suddenly stopped. As if they were puppets but with the master's hands stopped moving, those two just stood in the dark between the street lights, watching as she and Satoru got farther and farther away. A sense of unease gripped her heart.
She heard whirling from above, a drone passed them by. In the dark of night, she could not tell whether it was a surveillance drone or a commercial one, and neither should the two thugs. Perhaps they felt it was better to be safe than sorry. It mattered not. She and Satoru were safe now. But the sense of unease did not loosen its grip.
Once she felt they were far enough away, she told Satoru what she had just seen, and he stopped. And only after he validated the truth for himself, that they were no longer pursued, did he let her down. He collapsed onto his knees by the very next moment, adrenaline finally left him.
Adrenaline had left her too. The cold of the night crept in, prickling at her exposed arms and legs.
"It's still not yet safe," she said. "We should return home-"
A sob stopped her. It wasn't her own.
Tears pooled inside Satoru's goggles and chokes of breath escaped his throat. He wept, the course of the night finally caught up to him, with all of its dangers. They both could have died, but she was numbed to it. She had faced worse, and she had even died once. Satoru could not boast the same. This must have been his first foray into true danger, and it was too much.
How could this man ever be that monstrous Sorcerer King? What had happened, or rather, what would happen that could drive a man to become a mad god?
But that did not matter now. She did the only thing that came to mind. She embraced him. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she let his head rest on her shoulder. She did not speak, neither was he. In silence, he wept and in silence, she comforted him. They stayed that way until the tears stopped and the hiccups fell away. And in silence, she led him home, by his hand.
In the cold, dark night, her hand felt warm.
When they arrived at their safe haven, the door's shrieking had never sounded better in her ears.
"Strange," Satoru said. "I thought I locked it when I left."
Danger flooded her senses again, but by then, it was too late.
"Indeed, you have, Mr. Suzuki," a voice came from inside. Then, from the kitchen came a man in a velvet suit and a black tie, striped white. The same man she saw this morning in the supermarket.
"Hello, Mr. Suzuki and Miss Akaishi," the man said. "I apologize for intruding, especially, this late, and with such an unscrupulous method. But, a word of advice, Mr. Suzuki, your locks were quite easy to break. We didn't even need tools for them," he chuckled.
"Who are you," she asked, clinging tightly to Satoru's hand, ready to drag him away herself if needed.
"Before I introduce myself," the man said. "I want you two to meet some of my people."
She felt a pair of arms wrapped around her. She looked down, the arms were slender, akin to that of a woman. But no woman could be so strong, even as she struggled with all her might, those arms wouldn't even budge. Faint cyan veins glowed beneath the skin. Cybernetics? She then looked up and saw yet again a familiar face. It was the woman from this morning.
Her gut feeling was right, they were being followed.
She looked over to see Satoru being held up by the arms of the two men from earlier. One of them now had a bandage over one of his eyes, the bandage soaked red with blood. The other eye bruised black, and with it, the thug stared daggers at her. She couldn't care less, Satoru's confused and dismayed face was the only thing she truly saw.
"Grisly sight, isn't it," the man in the suit spoke up again. "I saw the whole thing. You fought like a demon, Miss Akaishi, and you weren't half bad yourself, Mr. Suzuki, any other man wouldn't have done as well as you did."
"Who are you," she asked again, teeth grinding, struggling to break free of the half-fleshy, half-metallic hold.
"Who I am does not matter, Miss Akaishi. Call me whatever you want. A bastard, An asshole, A piece of shit, perhaps. All I need for you to keep in mind is I am merely a hired hand, and my job here is to keep you from doing things we're all going to regret."
"So," the man gestured to the kitchen. "Why don't we all go inside, and have some refreshments while I disclose the reason why I am here? The sooner I am done, the sooner we can get out of each other's hair."
The smile was so slimy she wanted to break every tooth he had, individually. Her gaze fell on Satoru again.
"Fine," she gritted out. "Let's get this over with."
Hello again, readers.
Boy, I sure took my time with this, huh? There's not a good reason this time, I just had a really hard time putting words down for this chapter. Mainly because I do not want the reveal to happen so soon. But every iteration of this chapter without the reveal feels wrong, dragged out and redundant.
And sorry for making you all wait so long just for a cliffhanger, but I feel the next part of the story could not be written without a new one-off POV character. Neither Satoru nor Keno would know enough about the world and the hidden politics inside the dome to reveal the true reason why Keno's life fell apart, and as to why she survived so far.
But that's for the next chapter. I have already spoiled enough surprises. So, in the meantime, tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Was it worth the wait? Do you like it? What about it that you don't?
I will see you in the next chapter, my dear readers. Goodbye.