モルガナ

The lone black cat found it a matter simple enough to cross over to the other side. All he needed to do was find the tear—that weak spot in the boundary between reality and fiction.

In a dizzying spiral of light and dark, he slipped away into absolute nothingness. The sensation of dissolving away had never been a particularly pleasant one. Like the dull prick of a needle digging into numb flesh—slowly rousing, the gradual spread of hot and cold—self-awareness returned to the mind.

Morgana blinked his eyes open, finding that he now stood in a narrow back street surrounded by tall buildings and angling roads.

The first thing he noticed after gathering his wits was the pouring rain. The cyber city was as bright as ever, itself flooded full of dazzling signs and shimmering blue holographs. Water gushed from mist-wreathed skies, blending all the lights together like watercolors. Morgana took shade under the eaves of a nearby building, shaking the water from his fur.

"Well this is annoying," he grumbled under his breath. The rain was much worse than it had been last time. He wasn't confident that he could see much in this weather.

As he began contemplating his plan of attack, Morgana's vision was suddenly shrouded in pitch black.

Morgana all but jumped out of his own fur, yowling in surprise. The thief scurried away, spinning around with his fur bristling.

Standing behind him, their presence barely more than a ghostly whisper in the midst of a howling storm, was a person holding a big white umbrella. Or, what vaguely resembled a person, on closer look.

Their entire body was nothing more than a mass of swirling shadows—a silhouette rather than a solid form. It had no distinguishing features, a transparent collection of smog and mist gathered together in a cheap imitation of a man.

Feeling his fur stand on end, Morgana slowly inched backwards. The…thing slowly drifted forward, passing through the empty space where Morgana once stood.

"What the heck…?"

Even standing in front of it, the shadow person didn't acknowledge his presence, if it even noticed him there at all. Unbothered by the onslaught of rain, it inched down the road and disappeared into the shimmering curtain of water.

A shadow? Or is it a cognitive being?

Questions raced through his mind, but Morgana pressed onwards. He would arrive at no answers simply standing around. And yet, as he swerved around a sharp corner, he was only met with the sight of more of those humans. Each one was like the last—blurry dark figures holding pale umbrellas in their hands, standing around the entrance of what seemed to be a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop. Food bubbled in wide, black cauldrons, and another shade stood behind the counter, perhaps playing the role of the shop keep.

"What the…" Morgana breathed.

He whipped around and scurried down another side alley, only to find that the bigger streets were even more bizarre. Dozens, if not close to hundreds, more humanoid beings floated, like ghosts through the intersection, occupying every corner of the digital world—a cheap imitation of reality.

Rain beat down on the pavement, almost as loud as roaring thunder. Water seeped into Morgana's coat of fur, clinging to his skin and draining into his bones.

Morgana hesitantly stepped back, eyes catching on the thousands of blinking signs around them. Flashing almost innocuously, in bold red text over and over again, every single display, advertisement board, and and shop sign read the same thing.

Morgana gasped.

雨宮 蓮

By the time he was 17, Ren had been put under arrest a total of three times—and all within the span of a single year.

When the fourth—predictably—came around, he figured that he should have gotten used to the cold burden of handcuffs on his wrist.

When the policemen escorted him from school grounds, he could feel the burning curious gazes of some hundred students watching him—through the distant looking glass, behind covered mouths whispering: What did he do this time?

And when the vehicle door locked shut behind him, trapping him behind iron bars and leather seats, it felt less like a death sentence and more like an inevitability.

Static crackled over the patrol car's radio system.

"Has the suspect been secured?"

The officer in the passenger seat responded, a shrill ring echoing from his transmitter. "Yep, on our way back now, over."

On the drive to the station, the swollen gray clouds up above began to ooze with rain. Water sprayed against the windows in a muted shower, and he found that the sound was all he could focus on. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head against the cool glass and tried to lose himself in the soft noises.

Lavenza's parting words in his dream last night had been cryptic, if not foreboding—and he knew not what to make of them. After waking in the dead of night, Ren had been unable to return to sleep, his body overcome with the shock of adrenaline and dread.

Another trial to overcome, cold shackles of fate to overthrow. A looming disaster, its nature unknown. It almost made everything else going on seem dwarfed in comparison.

Ren stared down at the gleaming steel bands around his wrist.

This, too, would pass.

The door he was leaning on gave way, and he opened his eyes to see the police officers motioning for him to get up and follow. Outlined beyond their silhouettes was the gray building of the police station.

"Don't fall asleep, now," one said, grabbing him by the shoulder. Ren didn't resist as they led him through the lot and through the station doors.

People hurried around the hallways and lobby, as if set aflame. A woman cried as she spoke to another officer in consultation. Investigators were locked in discussion behind the reception area.

More cops approached them as they entered, greeting the two flanking Ren with a cursory nod.

"This is the guy?" Appraising glares seized him up and down, but he didn't flinch away. One of them scoffed. "So he really is a highschooler. I guess they come in all shapes and sizes these days."

They all laughed at that, but he couldn't find the humor in their words. Ren felt sick to his stomach as they dragged him along.

One of them called out to the woman sitting several paces over, who had been locked in an intense conversation with another policewoman. "Ma'am, does this guy look like the person who attacked you last night?"

"Huh?" They both turned to look at him, and Ren was starting to feel like a caged animal being paraded around at a circus. The old woman's face wrinkled with uncertainty as she analyzed his features. "Well," she said finally, rubbing her hands together, "It's possible. He does somewhat resemble the man I saw."

"Wait a minute," Ren objected, trying to pull himself out of their death grips. "I've never seen her before in my life. I didn't-"

But the scornful looks on the officers' faces told him what he already feared—to them, he was already guilty. All of his protests fell on deaf ears. Even Ren could tell that he was wasting his breath.

"Tell us, then. Yesterday, seven o'clock in the evening—what were you doing at that time?"

"Yesterday at seven?" That must have been the time that the crime had taken place. Ren's mind scrambled as it pieced together the timeline of all the things that had happened the day before. "I was…"

Fighting shadows in another world, his brain supplied, unhelpfully. Ren grimaced. This was starting to happen way too often.

The police officers seemed to take his silence as an admission of guilt. They grabbed his arms and began dragging him away. Just as Ren was preparing for another long, cold night spent in the station's jail cells, a breathless voice called out to them:

"Excuse me, where are you taking him?"

Ren flinched at the familiar low timbre and turned around.

Standing there looking as if he'd just stepped into his desk job for the day was none other than Yu Narukami. Dressed in a simple, pale shirt, dark slacks, and a winter coat, he seemed starkly out of place compared the the navy uniformed officers. Upon seeing him, Narukami lifted his arm and offered him a casual wave in greeting.

"Hi there," he said, though his tone lacked the nonchalance of his words. "Fancy seeing you again so soon."

Ren's eyes widened.

"Narukami—?"

Before either could explain, the officers interjected, fixing Narukami a disgruntled look.

"What are you doing, sir? Are you even authorized to be here?"

Narukami turned to the officer, reaching into the pocket of his coat. "Excuse me for not introducing myself," he said, pulling out his identification badge for all present to see. The golden insignia gleamed in the faint light, and if Ren hadn't been certain of Narukami's identity before, he was now. "I'm Yu Narukami, a criminal investigator."

Ren stood up abruptly, blurting out, "You're a cop?"

The older officer glared at Ren, snapping, "Quiet," before looking back to Narukami with suspicion. "You said your name's Narukami? I've never seen you before. What's a rookie investigator like you doing sticking his nose where it doesn't belong?"

Despite the other's scathing tone, the investigator took it in stride and smiled politely. "I may be new here, but I assure you that I'm well within my purview. I've been assigned this case, so I'll ask again—where are you taking that young man?" The investigator's face was a mask of civility, but his tone was as sharp and cold as steel.

The officers glanced amongst each other, perplexed. "We're taking him to the holding cells," one answered, finally. "He's a suspect."

"A suspect?" There was an uncharacteristically harsh frown on his face that made even Ren feel timid. "We haven't even begun investigating the incident, and you thought it was proper to bring him in without a warrant or probable cause?"

"Probable cause? Of course there's probable cause," the policeman sneered. "Not only does he have a criminal background, but he matches all the descriptions provided: a student with dark hair and glasses, correct?" The cop glanced over at the stunned old woman, who had been watching things unfold in silence. She started when the attention was drawn back to her.

"Oh, um, yes," she stammered, wringing a napkin in her hands. "I did say that."

"Our patrol officers have also seen him wandering around the streets late at night," the second officer added, tossing fuel into the fire. "He was unwilling to provide explanation for what he was doing at the time of the incident."

Narukami, far from impressed, replied, "Respectfully, officers, young men with dark hair and glasses are a dime-a-dozen in Japan. Those facts don't actually prove much of anything." The two flushed, embarrassed, but the investigator didn't stop there.

Narukami turned and offered a slight bow to the old woman, asking, "Ma'am, despite the fact that you could not clearly see because of the darkness, you said that you believed the attacker was a student, yes?"

The old woman nodded slowly.

"And, if I may ask, did you believe that they were a student because they appeared to be wearing some kind of uniform?"

"Oh, yes," she said, more confidently this time. "Yes, I was wondering why I kept thinking that he was a student, but now that you put it that way, I'm almost certain that it was because he was wearing a uniform."

Narukami hummed, seeming to have confirmed something. "As you know, many jobs also require their employees to wear designated uniforms. With that in mind, can you confirm that the clothes the attacker wore belonged to a student, specifically?"

At this, the old woman hesitated, biting her lips in consideration. "Well…no. I suppose not."

The officer scoffed, though he was clearly losing the bravado he'd once had. "That…that proves nothing."

"My point exactly," Narukami agreed solemnly. "We don't have sufficient evidence to bring Amamiya-kun into the station—nor anyone else, for that matter. Most importantly, he could not have possibly committed the crime you're accusing him of. Yesterday at seven in the evening, during the time the incident took place, I happened to run into him at the edge of the shopping district."

The officers' eyes bulged in their skulls. Narukami grinned down at Ren, startlingly relaxed.

"You see, I had just got off the train at Yaso-Inaba station and was in a bit of trouble because my phone had been stolen. Thankfully, Amamiya-kun happened to be passing by on the way home and was kind enough to lend me a hand. Isn't that right?"

The boy nodded, recognizing the subtle wink the other was giving him. "Y-yes."

Satisfied, Narukami turned back to the cops. "In short, he has a solid, provable alibi. For that reason, I see no reason to treat him as a suspect."

Uncomfortable silence blanketed the station lobby. More officers had stopped to watch the drama unfold, hands over their mouths as their curious eyes darted between the two sides. The investigator let his hands rest in the pockets of his coat, staring down each of the offending policemen with raised brows.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be taking Amamiya-kun. I assume you've already filed reports for his arrest? We'll be needing to sign papers for his release, in that case." Narukami started forward, gesturing with a smile for Ren to follow him. "Come this way."

Amazingly, no one raised further protest as the investigator led him away.

Linoleum floors squeaked loudly underfoot as Ren was pushed through the lobby, down a long hallway, and into a small, dimly lit room. Furnished with a simple wooden desk, a set of chairs, and a gated window leading outside, the space was barely larger and not nearly as welcoming as his own bedroom.

"Wait here for a moment," Narukami said, turning to leave. "I'll be back in a minute."

The door clicked shut behind the investigator, locking him in stifling quiet. Ren sat, hands folded over each other on the table. Despite the situation he found himself in, his mind felt strangely numb. He leaned back in his seat, trying to process everything that had happened.

The soft sleeves of his school uniform, ironed and dark, encircled by chipped gray handcuffs—it almost felt like dramatic irony. He tugged at them, hearing the chains clatter softly at his resistance—but they remained unyielding. His phone had been confiscated the moment he stepped into the police car, and all of his personal belongings were left behind at school.

Well, at least it wasn't a jail cell.

It only felt like moments had passed before the door swung open once more. Ren instinctively braced himself, expecting a Psych! Actually, you're being arrested and there's nothing I can do about it!—but all that he heard was a soft sigh and the dull thump of something metallic landing on the table in front of him.

It was a hot can of oshiruko—sweet red bean soup. At Ren's skeptical look, Narukami sat down in the seat across from him, disarming him with a kind grin.

"I thought you would be thirsty. It's cold out, so feel free to drink up—that is, unless you're not a fan of red bean. Sorry, I probably should have asked first."

Honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of sweets, but he still accepted the drink and pulled the aluminum tab open with a satisfying pop! The syrupy liquid slid down his parched throat as softened chunks of red bean rolled on his tongue, pleasantly earthy and not too sweet. Warmth spread down to his empty stomach and sent tingles all the way up to his fingertips. Ren licked his lips, pausing to take another sip.

Narukami spoke as he drank, twirling another can of shiruko between his hands. "This is a private waiting room in the back of the station. We can talk freely here." His voice was tinged with remorse. "Back there—that was unprofessional of us, wasn't it? I'm sorry. I hope you're not too overwhelmed."

Ren shook his head, reaching up to twist the dark fringe hanging over his eyes.

"Not overwhelmed, so much as surprised," he admitted. He hadn't realized it the day before, but now that Narukami was dressed up and in his element, he did seem much older than Ren had initially thought. "I didn't know you were with the police."

"Does that bother you?"

Ren stayed quiet for a moment. "I'm not terribly fond of cops."

The inspector hummed softly, brows raising slightly. Ren lowered his gaze to focus on his hands. His pale fingers curled around the warm aluminum can, clasping together then pulling apart in repetitive, yet comforting motions.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon," the investigator said, voice low so as not to be overheard. Ren glanced back up at the door, wondering if someone nearby could overhear them outside the room. "I had anticipated that Morgana would have sought me out first, on the terms that something had gone wrong again." He chuckled, hand over his mouth in a rather old-fashioned show of modesty. "While I'm glad that nothing dire has happened…I do wish we could have met again under better circumstances."

Ren massaged his cold palms together. "I think I got the gist of it, but, if I can ask, what charges was I brought here for, again?"

The investigator reached into his leather bag and placed a file filled with documents onto the table. "Yesterday evening, a pair was attacked on the streets in the residential district by someone they described as a young, dark-haired student in glasses."

"Oh," Ren muttered.

The investigator briefly flipped through the pages, eyes scanning the text. "As I said before, I don't find that there's enough evidence to warrant bringing you in for questioning. Though it seems my opinion isn't shared by all of us here in the station…" Narukami trailed off, but Ren could piece together the rest of what probably happened.

Unbidden, his father's voice echoed in his brain. Tell us exactly what you did, and be specific.

He stared down at the table blankly, trying to think of what to say.

There was a squeak from the chair on the other end of the table. He heard the metallic jingle of keys, and then the investigator bent over the table to uncuff him. The handcuffs fell off with a soft click and Ren took a moment to rub circles into his wrists.

"...you're actually letting me go?"

Narukami tilted his head, the friendly smile back on his face. "Well, I know that you aren't the person we're looking for…that is, unless you really are the criminal."

Ren shook his head hurriedly, causing the older man to laugh. "I'm kidding." The man's eyes softened, looking at the highschooler. Narukami shifted, leaning over the table slightly to get a better look at Ren's face. "Are you okay?"

Ren looked back up at the investigator, who's lips were turned down concern.

"Sorry?" he asked, confused.

"You don't look great," he said, brutally honest. "By the way, do your injuries still hurt? You're bruised all over."

Ren pulled away from the table, wondering if the light from the table lamp was what exposed the discoloration of his skin. "I'm fine," he replied, readjusting the hair around his eyes.

Though he didn't seem very convinced, after a moment of contemplation, he continued, "You and Morgana seem like you're used to fighting Shadows. Those fancy costumes and weapons—I've never seen anything like it before." Keen eyes scanned Ren's face, his chin propped up between his thumb and forefinger. "How long has it been since you awakened to your persona? Has it just been the two of you? Do you know anything about the other world?"

Narukami's prying gaze made Ren squirm in his seat. "Uh," he said, mind scrambling to keep up with the questions. "Well…"

"Sorry, you don't have to answer all of that. This isn't exactly the best time or place to have that kind of talk," the investigator leaned back, posture easing up. "I guess I just found myself curious about you two."

Ren would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about Narukami either, and not just because of his persona. He'd had some time to mull over it, but Ren still couldn't shake that feeling of deja vu when he saw Narukami. There was something about him that was distantly familiar; maybe it was the way he carried himself, or just the vibe he gave off.

Oddly, Narukami seemed not to share the same opinion—or if he did, he showed no indication of it. He was half inclined to ask again just to be sure, but the investigator pressed the conversation forward.

"Is Morgana alright too? Did he happen to follow you here?"

"No, he's…" Ren hesitated, quieting his voice to say, "He went by himself to investigate the other world."

Narukami raised his brow. "He can do that? Is it safe for him to go by himself?"

"Morgana's a lot more capable than he seems," was his response, but he couldn't tell if he was saying that more to reassure Narukami or himself. Morgana had always been able to traverse between the metaverse and reality by means unknown to him, and while there was no guarantee his powers of dimension travel would work in this instance, the sleuth's confidence had left little room for argument when they split in the morning.

Morgana had always been one to play on the side of caution, and was sharper than most gave him credit for. All Ren could do was have faith in the other's instincts and skills. "I trust him," Ren continued, more confidently this time.

"Then, I'll take your word for it," Narukami assented with a short nod. "Though, if something comes up, you can always contact me."

He pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the table. It was Ren's smartphone, turned off. As he scooped it up from the desk, Narukami added, "We should exchange numbers. I have my fair share of experience with this sort of thing myself, and we'll need to be prepared for what's to come, if anything."

Maybe he should have expected it, but Ren still couldn't help but be surprised by Narukami's offer.

"You want to help us?" At the investigator's equally surprised expression, Ren added, hurriedly, "I mean, you seem like you're pretty busy. This problem started with me, and you only just happened to get involved. We don't even know what the app is about, or if it's a threat. I didn't think you would be interested."

"Of course I am," Narukami declared, not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes. "This isn't something I can overlook, and I especially won't let you and Morgana deal with it alone. Hidden places like that cyber world don't appear for no reason—if we leave it alone, who knows what might happen?"

"...Cyber world?"

Narukami was stoic. "Yeah. It fits, doesn't it?"

"Uh…sure."

I guess that's what we're calling it now.

Minus Narukami's naming sense, he found no other flaws in the his logic, nor any good reason to turn him down for that matter. Ren met his eyes and nodded.

"Then I guess we can strike a deal."

"A deal?" Narukami asked quizzically, drawing his own phone out. It seemed that he had acquired a new device—an actual smartphone of the modern era, this time.

"Yes, a deal. An agreement in which both parties reap benefits from the other's aid," Ren said. "That said, I already owe you a lot for yours."

Narukami tilted his head. "Owe? What do you mean?"

"You saved me yesterday when I was attacked by the shadow," Ren began.

"Then you should count us even. None of us would have been able to do it on our own."

"I also broke your phone."

"Technically, you weren't the one who did it," Narukami corrected.

"You're also letting me walk free," Ren stated, matter-of-factly. "I would have had a hell of a time trying to convince the officers here that I was innocent. Not to mention, you're willing to help us out with investigating the…cyber world. Objectively speaking, there's little that you're actually gaining from this arrangement—and that isn't how I like to do things."

The investigator looked up at him, brows up high into his bangs. "And if said I'm not looking to gain anything?"

Ren met the older man's eyes, unwavering. "I'm not someone who lets a debt go unpaid. If we're going to be working together, then it should be on equal terms."

Narukami stared back, silent. Contemplation swirled as a thunderstorm in tempestuous gray eyes, his face a mask of stoicism. Ren thought himself good at reading people's thoughts, but he had no idea what the investigator was thinking.

After what felt like eons, Narukami sighed.

"I just did what was appropriate for the situation. It's nothing worth feeling burdened over," he said firmly, shaking his head. "And, besides…sometimes people do things just for the sake of doing them. Not everything is calculated based on give and take."

Just when Ren was starting to think their deal would fall through, Narukami unexpectedly broke out into a light-hearted smile. "Admittedly, though, I can see where you're coming from. If that's truly something you're not willing to compromise on, I suppose there is a favor you can do for me in return."

Ren nodded along, interested. "And that is?"

With splayed fingers, Narukami spun the manilla folder that had been sitting, neglected, on the table, and gently nudged it in his direction. Ren pried the flap open, and a quick skim of the document rehashed the information Narukami had already provided for him—the reported assault on the old couple, the description of the perpetrator, and the list of potential suspects. The investigator tapped the page lightly and said, "Help me track down the real perpetrator."

Ren's eyes widened, and he forced himself to keep his mouth closed as it threatened to hang open in surprise.

Him, working with the police? It wasn't his first time, technically, but in this capacity?

Disguising his uneasiness with a subtle cough and a sip of his drink, Ren asked, "You want my help? Wouldn't that get us both in hot water if we were found out? Besides, I'm still just a high school kid. I doubt there'll be much I can realistically do to that the police can't."

Narukami raised his hands placatingly. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything unreasonable or dangerous, but there are some things that you, as a student, are better suited for than I am. And I have the utmost confidence that you won't get caught. Someone with your specific skillset and experience should have no problem remaining hidden in the shadows."

Ren almost choked on his shiruko. Steeling his expression, he composed himself and cast out a cautious lure to test the waters.

"Are you sure you didn't read me wrong?" Ren asked, feigning ignorance. "I'm nothing more than a delinquent."

The investigator seemed more amused than convinced. "It's not uncommon for detectives to have connections with people of all backgrounds—whether as an informant, a backer, or even a trump card. That said, it's equally as important for one to know who they're dealing with, and whether the risk is worth the reward." The knowing look in his eyes told Ren that he was being read like an open book. "It's not my style to work with criminals, but I think I can make an exception this time. Besides, I doubt you're even half of the 'bad guy' you and your records make yourself out to be."

After a moment of tense quiet, where both waited for the other to budge first, Ren finally yielded. He let his head slump forward as he bit back a tired sigh.

"...When did you find out?"

Narukami crossed his arms over his chest. "Since I saw your costume in the cyber world. That, and your alias—you called yourself Joker. I'd be a fool not to be able to piece two-and-two together."

Of course.

Curses bubbled up in his chest, but they were more aimed at himself than at anyone else. In the heat of the moment, there had been little other recourse, but—still, he'd been careless.

Ren must have had a conflicted expression on his face, because Narukami eased up and offered him an inoffensive smile.

"I thought it would be best to be transparent with you. Don't worry, though. I have no plans to use this as leverage, nor do I intend to tell anyone else about this without your consent. This, I swear." He pressed a hand over his heart in a gesture of solemn promise. "And just to be clear, you have the right to decline my proposition. I can always think of something else."

Ren could immediately tell that Narukami wasn't lying—or maybe he was just convincing himself that he wasn't. Perhaps it had something to do with Narukami's natural aura of charisma, or that sense of deja vu he kept feeling around him, but he kept finding himself unconsciously letting his guard down around him. Still, to give credit where credit was due, the investigator was a lot more resourceful than Ren had assumed he would be.

The phantom thief took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. "No, I'll do it. As you say, I'm pretty good with these kinds of jobs. Tell me what you need."

The investigator smiled, seeming content. "For now, I'd be satisfied just to have your phone number."

Ren coughed again.

Oblivious, Narukami cheerfully closed the case file and continued, "I'll be sure to message you later with the details, since I do still have some research of my own to get through. But, admittedly, I feel much more confident now that I have your aid, Amamiya-kun."

He was starting to wonder if Narukami was just the kind of person who said whatever came to his head, regardless of how it could be interpreted…or misinterpreted.

"If you say so." Gathering his wits about him, Ren handed Narukami his phone.

The investigator accepted the device, pausing with his fingers hovering over the phone screen. He looked back up at Ren, sheepish, and admitted, "Sorry, but I'm not really sure how to use this."

Right. Narukami had been using an old model until just recently.

Ren gave the investigator a deadpan look. "I'll just put my information in your phone then. That'll be easier."

Narukami, seeming a bit embarrassed, returned Ren his phone and began looking through his own.

"Um, here—"

The investigator cut himself off, eyes catching on something on his screen. Flashes of emotion flit across his face in an instant: surprise, then confusion, and finally sobriety.

"Narukami-san?" Ren probed, trying to get closer to see.

"Speak of the devil," he said humorlessly, turning the screen around to afford Ren a clear view.

ImpulseVR throbbed ominously in the corner of Narukami's phone screen, the blue organ thumping innocuously back at their stunned faces.

Just like the MetaNav, Ren thought. As if it had a mind of its own, it spread like a virus to those it deemed relevant to his trial, inexricably weaving them into his precarious fate. Any thought he had of hopefully keeping Narukami out of his mess was instantly blown away, leaving nothing but dread for what was to come.

Narukami seemed more baffled than upset, peering down at his phone with narrowed eyes. "I bought this device just this morning," he muttered, deep in thought. "When did it…?"

Suddenly, both of their phones chimed in unison.

A notification popped up on their screens—the sender: ImpulseVR. It was a system message from the app.

The two men exchanged grave looks. Ren resolutely opened the app, preparing for the worst.

Notice: New LOCATION discovered! T_r_t points redeemed!

Would you like to register _ as a saved destination?

"'New location?'" Narukami voiced Ren's thoughts, looking to him for explanation. Ren shrugged, just as mystified. "And what are these…? T…uh, something points?"

Something happened in the cyber world. But what? And why now? The trigger…

The realization hit him suddenly. "Morgana," Ren murmured, eyes widening. "It's probably because of Morgana. He must have done something."

There was no other explanation. Morgana must have made it to the other side, and, by the sounds of it, had discovered something new. Alarm and relief washed through him at once—worry for what troubles Morgana might have uncovered, and solace at knowing his friend was safe.

Before either could discuss further, there was a sharp rap at the door. The two nearly leapt out of their seats in surprise, so engrossed in their thoughts that they had forgotten where they were. A man's voice called from outside:

"You two alright in there?"

Narukami's expression changed. He stood up and straightened himself out, smoothing down his clothes. "Yes, Detective Dojima. I'm just about wrapping things up."

He glance down at the thin black watch on his wrist, turning to Ren with an apologetic smile. "It's getting late, so we can leave things at that for now. Let's go get your paperwork filled out so you can go home."

"Right."

Ren stood up, following Narukami out of the stuffy, dark room.

Opening the door, they were met with the sight of a tall, middle-aged man with short, salt-and-pepper hair and face marked from years of deep and repeated scowling. He immediately seized Ren up with scrutinizing eyes and took a short puff from his cigarette. Dark eyes lingered on his noticeably cuff-less wrists, before trailing back to Narukami.

"Everything go okay?" The senior cop regarded Narukami with a raised brow. "You were in there for a while."

The investigator smiled breezily, his expression betraying nothing of what had happened behind the closed doors. "Yes. We had a very productive conversation, and I ended up losing track of the time."

"Huh," the detective grunted. After a moment of rigid silence where Ren feared that they had been found out, the cop lifted his arm and gave Narukami a firm pat on the shoulder. "Well, the kid's parents are here. Thought I should let you know."

"My parents," Ren repeated before he could stop himself. "You called them?"

"Hm? Of course we did," Narukami said easily, unaware of the way Ren's heart dropped into his stomach. "We're supposed to. You are still a minor, after all."

That's not good.

"Alright then. Once you're done here, come to the office. I've got something for you," the detective said. Narukami broke out into a fond smile, nodding in response.

"Understood. I'll finish up here and join you when I'm done."

The detective continued through the darkened hall, and the remaining two turned the other direction towards the entrance. Noticing the way Ren was dragging his feet, the investigator swivelled around, head tilted.

"Something wrong?"

Ren suppressed an anxious groan. "Well—"

They entered the lobby area, and Ren was immediately greeted by the glowering faces of his parents, waiting cross-armed in seats by the information desk.

"Ren!" His mother cried, jumping to her feet and storming past a startled Narukami. She reached out and firmly gripped his shoulders, shaking him fiercely. "What happened? Are you okay?"

The highschooler blinked, eyes darting around at the curious eyes watching them. He tried to gently brush her off of his aching shoulders and said, "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed. "Why did you come all this way? Weren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Of course I came," his mother snapped, hands squeezing tighter into his arms. Her face was flushed red with emotion as she looked him up and down. "What was I supposed to do when I got a call telling me that my son taken to the police station? Do you know how worried I was?"

"S-sorry."

Ren's father glanced up at the investigator, then back at Ren. His face twisted with skepticism and his voice was stern when he spoke. "Did you do something again?" The highschooler met his father's eyes, nervously. "You promised us last night that you weren't getting into any trouble. Was that a lie?"

No, he wanted to say, but at that moment Ren felt his throat dry up.

For a grace, Narukami stepped in and interjected, "He hasn't gotten into any trouble, so don't worry." Caught off guard by his relaxed and friendly demeanor, Ren's parents stared at the investigator, incredulous. "There was a bit of a mix-up with our system, so I only had him here to answer a few of my questions. He's free to go home after we sign a few papers. In fact, I will be needing a few parent signatures, so if you can follow me…"

Narukami began leading his parents away to the reception desk, glancing over his shoulder to give Ren a subtle smile and a wave.

Left alone now, Ren took the moment to sit down at one of the navy plastic chairs in the lobby. The events of the day rushed through his mind, chaotic as a raging current. Offered the time to reflect, however, all that he could actually think was:

Thank god tomorrow's the weekend.