Chapter 5: Shadow of the past
The clinic was silent, bathed in the faint glow of the moonlight spilling through the half-closed blinds. Mikado's room, a space of warm tones and cluttered charm, was unusually still. On her bed, Mikado lay on her side, her arm loosely draped over the smaller frame of Shirou, who slept curled against her like a kitten seeking warmth.
Shirou's breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with hers. For Mikado, having Shirou beside her had become an unspoken comfort. At first, she'd protested when he insisted on sneaking into her bed, citing his need for independence. But over time, his quiet presence became silently normal.
Tonight, however, the peace was fleeting.
In his sleep, Shirou's expression twisted. His brows furrowed, his lips parted slightly as if trying to speak. In his mind, the shadows of a fragmented memory began to take shape.
A man standing alone on a desolate hill...only his back was facing him. A red cape moved by the wind.
Before the image could become clearer, the vision changed.
A cold, sterile room. The hum of machinery vibrating through his tiny body. Shadowy figures loomed overhead, their faces obscured but their voices sharp and commanding.
"Subject A-01... stabilize the nanites..."
"Increase the current... we need results!"
The words were muffled, warped, as if they were being spoken underwater. He felt the icy touch of metallic instruments against his skin, the sting of needles, and the dull ache of something being implanted deep within him.
A flash of blinding white light consumed the dream.
Then came the voice. Soft, almost tender, it whispered a name.
"Adam..."
Shirou jolted awake, his body trembling and his breathing ragged. His silver and gold eyes darted around the dimly lit room, struggling to distinguish reality from the remnants of the dream.
Mikado stirred at the sudden movement, her brows knitting in sleepy confusion. "Shirou?" she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness. She propped herself up on one elbow, her green eyes blinking blearily at him.
Shirou didn't respond immediately, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself.
"Hey," Mikado said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What happened? Did you had a bad dream?"
He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes as he lowered his head. "It... it felt real," he whispered.
Mikado sat up fully now, smoothing her hair as she turned her attention entirely to him. "What did you see?"
Shirou hesitated, clutching the blanket tightly. "I... I was in a room. It was cold. There were people—shadows. They were doing something to me." His voice wavered as he continued, "Machines, needles... a man I never seen... And then, a light. A bright light. And a voice called a name I never heard."
Mikado's heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. She reached out and gently cupped his face, guiding his eyes to meet hers. "It's okay," she said firmly. "You're safe now. Whatever that was, it's not happening anymore."
"But what does it mean?" Shirou asked, his voice tinged with both confusion and fear. "Why do I keep seeing these things?"
Mikado sighed, pulling him into a protective embrace. "I think your mind is trying to remember," she said. "Those dreams are fragments of your past. They might not make sense now, but they're pieces of a puzzle. We'll figure it out, okay?"
Shirou relaxed slightly in her arms, his head resting against her bosom. Mikado began to stroke his hair absentmindedly, a habit she'd developed recently to soothe him.
"You've been through a lot, Shirou," she murmured. "It's no wonder your memories are all jumbled. But we'll take it one step at a time."
He closed his eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "You promise?" he asked softly.
"I promise," she said, her voice resolute.
After a moment of silence, Mikado tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, you're giving to much thoughts to the past? I'm way more interesting than some shadowy lab people."
Shirou pulled back slightly to look at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You are interesting," he admitted. "But also... a little weird."
Mikado feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. "Weird? Excuse me, I am eccentric—there's a difference!"
Shirou's smile grew, the tension in his body easing further. "Eccentric means weird." He said while laying his head back on Mikado's chest. Hearing her heartbeats was somewhat relaxing for Shirou now.
"Smartmouth," Mikado muttered, ruffling his hair.
As the mood lightened, Mikado shifted back to seriousness. "Shirou, I want you to know something," she said. "No matter what we find out about your past—who you were, or what they made you into—it doesn't change who you are now. You're you. And that's enough."
Shirou considered her words carefully. "But what if... what if I'm something bad?"
"Then I'll just have to work extra hard to keep you on the straight and narrow," she said with a wink. "I'm not letting my favorite bed-hog become a supervillain."
"I don't hog the bed," Shirou protested, his cheeks tinting faintly.
"Please, you're like a octopus in your sleep," Mikado teased. "I wake with you holding my arm or my leg for dear life every morning!"
Shirou's quiet laugh filled the room, a sound that always made Mikado's chest tighten with joy.
Mikado gently guided Shirou back down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of them. "Try to get some rest," she said. "We've got a busy schedule in the morning."
Shirou hesitated. "Will the dreams come back?"
"They might," Mikado admitted. "But if they do, I'll be right here, okay? Just wake me up, and we'll talk until you feel good again."
He nodded, nestling closer to her. "Okay."
Mikado kissed the top of his head—a rare, tender gesture she reserved for moments like this. "Goodnight, Shirou."
"Goodnight, Mikado."
As the room settled into quiet once more, Mikado stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. Shirou's dreams weren't just random—they were a key to unraveling the mysteries of his past. And while she'd promised him they'd uncover the truth, she knew that whatever they found could change everything.
But for now, she focused on the present. On the small, warm presence beside her. On the soft rhythm of his breathing. Whatever the shadows of the past held, they are not going to stop them from living their lifes.
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Mikado's clinic, casting warm golden rays across the organized chaos of her workspace. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, mingled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea. Mikado leaned against the counter, sipping her mug, while Shirou sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, engrossed in another children's book Mikado had given him.
"'The cat jumped over the moon,'" Shirou read aloud, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"It's 'the cow,' Shirou," Mikado corrected with a smirk.
Shirou looked up, mildly offended. "Who would believe a cow could jump over the moon?"
"Who would believe a cat could?" Mikado shot back, taking another sip of her tea.
Before Shirou could reply, the peaceful routine was cut short by the sharp ding of the clinic's front bell.
Mikado directed her gaze towards the camera's footage on her monitor. There was a a man standing in front of her clinic's gate.
She opened the guest entrance and let the visitor enter.
Shirou and Mikado both of them turned toward the door, where a figure stood silhouetted against the morning light.
The visitor stepped inside, his boots clicking against the polished floor. He was tall and lean, dressed in a long, dark coat that had seen better days. His face was rugged, framed by tousled black hair, and his sharp blue eyes swept across the room with practiced precision. He moved with the kind of ease that suggested he was used to being in control.
"Good morning," the man said, his voice smooth yet carrying an undertone Mikado didn't entirely trust. "Dr. Mikado, I presume?"
Mikado set her mug down slowly. "That's me. And you are?"
"Kael," the man replied, offering a small bow. "I've heard you're the best medic around. I'm in need of some assistance."
Mikado's instincts, honed from years of dealing with all kinds of patients—and a fair share of troublemakers—kicked in. Something about Kael's demeanor felt... off. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were far too alert, darting briefly to Shirou before locking back onto her.
"What seems to be the problem?" Mikado asked, keeping her tone polite but her guard up.
Kael placed a hand over his side, wincing theatrically. "Old injury. It's been acting up again. Figured I'd stop by while I was in the area."
Mikado raised an eyebrow. "An old injury? From what, exactly?"
Kael smiled, the kind of smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of scrapes. Life on the road, you know how it is."
While Mikado fetched her medical kit, she kept an eye on Kael. He wasn't giving her much to work with, but his casual glance toward Shirou hadn't gone unnoticed.
"So, Kael," she said, opening the kit, "what brings you to this little corner of the world? We don't get many travelers here."
Kael shrugged. "Just passing through. Heard good things about your clinic, figured I'd check it out. It's... quaint."
"Quaint, huh?" Mikado replied, pressing gently against his side to examine the supposed injury.
He winced slightly but didn't flinch. "You've got quite the setup here. Not many doctors would stick around in a place like this."
"Someone's gotta do it," Mikado said lightly, though her mind was working overtime. His injury didn't seem serious—more like an excuse to walk through her door.
"I guess you're right, I don't think many doctors would voluntary open a business in a planet on the edge of the boonies." Kael shared his opinion while smiling.
Mikado meanwhile tried to keep her chitchat as brief as possible while analysing everything Kael was saying.
Kael's attention drifted again to Shirou, who had been silent but watchful throughout the exchange. "Your assistant?" he asked, nodding toward the boy.
Mikado didn't miss the subtle curiosity in his tone. "Something like that," she replied, keeping her answer deliberately vague.
"Quiet kid," Kael remarked. "Doesn't seem like the usual clinic helper."
Mikado's lips twitched in a faint smile. "He's a fast learner."
Shirou, sensing Mikado's unease, glanced up from his book but stayed where he was. Mikado caught his eye and gave a subtle shake of her head, a silent signal to keep his distance.
As Mikado finished treating Kael's side, he leaned back slightly, his expression casual. "You must see all sorts of people here, don't you? Bet you get a few unusual cases."
"Every day's an adventure," Mikado replied dryly, closing the medical kit.
Kael chuckled. "I imagine so. Must take a lot to keep up with it all. Especially with... unique patients."
Mikado's hand froze for the briefest moment before she resumed packing up her tools. "We're equipped for most situations," she said, her tone neutral.
Kael smiled again, and this time, there was something almost predatory about it. "Good to know."
"All done," Mikado announced briskly, standing and stepping back. "You should be fine, but take it easy for a few days. And if it flares up again, I'd recommend finding a specialist."
Kael rose, adjusting his coat. "Thanks, Doc. Appreciate it."
As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing over his shoulder at Shirou. "Take care, kid."
Mikado's eyes narrowed. "Shirou, why don't you head to your room and grab that book I asked for?"
Shirou hesitated but nodded, slipping away without a word.
Kael lingered by the door, watching Shirou disappear down the hallway. His expression was thoughtful, almost calculating. "Interesting boy," he remarked casually.
Mikado stepped forward, her smile as sharp as a scalpel. "He's under my care. And I take my patients' privacy very seriously."
Kael held her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Of course. Just making conversation."
With that, he tipped his hat and exited the clinic, the bell jingling softly behind him.
As soon as the door closed, Mikado locked it, her mind racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that this man called Kael's visited as a coincidence. His subtle questions, his interest in Shirou—it all felt too deliberate.
"Shirou?" she called, and the boy reappeared from the hallway.
"Who was that man?" Shirou asked quietly.
Mikado crouched down to his level, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I don't think he was here just for medical help."
Shirou glanced toward the door, a flicker of unease in his mismatched eyes. "He looked at me like... like he knew me."
Mikado's grip on his shoulder tightened slightly. "Don't worry," she said firmly. "I won't let anything happen to you."
As she guided him back to the main room, her mind replayed the encounter. Kael's lingering glance, his probing questions—they were pieces of a puzzle she didn't yet understand.
One thing was certain: this wasn't the last they'd see of Kael. And whatever his intentions are, Mikado was determined to stay one step ahead.
The sterile glow of the monitors illuminated Mikado's lab, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the walls. Mikado sat hunched over her desk, her red-brown hair pulled into a loose bun, emerald eyes fixed intently on the data streaming across her screen. In the quiet hum of the clinic, the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on the keyboard and the occasional beep of the machines.
It had been weeks since she began analyzing Shirou's physiology and abilities in detail. What started as simple curiosity about his bio-engineered nature had spiraled into something far more complex.
"Nano-constructive capabilities," she muttered to herself, scrolling through the charts. "Regenerative properties, enhanced physicality… This isn't just advanced biology. This is... designed perfection."
She leaned back, rubbing her temples. While Shirou was upstairs, presumably asleep, Mikado's mind was far from at rest. Tonight's analysis had unearthed something unsettling.
Amid the usual patterns and anomalies in Shirou's biology, Mikado spotted markers—faint but distinct—she hadn't seen in years. She brought up an old, encrypted file from her private archives, her hands trembling slightly as she entered the passcode.
The screen flickered, revealing a dossier. The title at the top made her heart skip a beat: Project Eve: Eden Initiative.
Her gaze lingered on the name listed under Lead Researcher: Tearju Lunatique.
"Tearju…" Mikado whispered, her voice heavy with a mix of longing and guilt.
It had been almost 3 years since they last spoke. Tearju had been her best friend, a brilliant scientist, and one of the few people Mikado had ever truly trusted.
They shared dreams of revolutionizing medicine together, once they graduated from one of the most prestigious university in the galaxy. But Tearju's involvement with Eden had taken her down a dark path.
Eden. Even the name felt like poison on Mikado's tongue.
Eden had been a shadowy organization, shrouded in secrecy and ambition. Its goal: to create advanced biological weapons capable of surpassing every limitation of the current arms. While Mikado had chosen to focus on healing and research, Tearju had been drawn to Eden's allure of limitless innovation.
Mikado clenched her fists. That choice had cost Tearju everything.
The last time they'd spoken was shortly before Tearju vanished. Eden had collapsed in spectacular fashion—a catastrophic event triggered by its own creations. One of their experimental subjects, a being of immense power, had turned against the organization, tearing it apart from within.
The Devilukians, galactic rulers and arbiters of peace, had raided the ruins, collecting information and shutting down the remnants of Eden's operations. They'd made much of that knowledge public, exposing Eden's horrors to the galaxy. But some secrets, Mikado knew, had been buried too deep for even the Devilukians to uncover.
Mikado pulled up Shirou's most recent scans, overlaying them with data extracted from the Eden archives. The similarities were undeniable. His nano-constructive abilities, his regenerative potential, even the faint bio-energy signature in his cells—it all aligned disturbingly well with Eden's earlier projects.
Her pulse quickened.
"Could Shirou be... one of theirs?" she wondered aloud.
It didn't make sense. Shirou's personality was far too innocent, his demeanor too gentle to align with the monstrous reputation of Eden's creations. Yet the markers were there, unmistakable.
She stared at the screen, her mind racing. If Shirou was connected to Eden, what did that mean for his future? And what of the rogue experimental subject—the one who'd destroyed the organization?
Mikado's thoughts turned to Tearju. Could her friend still be alive? After Eden's fall, Tearju had vanished, cutting all ties. Mikado had searched for her for months, combing through leads and contacts, but it was as if the golden-haired genius had disappeared into thin air.
"If Tear was behind this," Mikado murmured, fingers drumming on her desk, "then she owes me an explanation. Preferably over coffee. And she's paying."
A sly smile crossed her lips, even as her chest tightened with longing. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as memories of their university days came rushing back.
Mikado could still picture Tearju's face the first time they'd talked to each others outside of their classes in the university library. Tearju had been buried behind a stack of books, her golden hair shining in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Mikado had walked in, all confidence and swagger, with no intention of studying but every intention of making her presence known.
"Hey there, Tear," Mikado had said, leaning casually on the table. "You are strangely radiant today. What are you researching now? I hope it's something fun?"
Tear had startled, her book slipping from her hands and landing with a soft thud on the table. Her cheeks had turned a brilliant shade of red as she adjusted her glasses and stammered, "I—I'm just studying advanced bioengineering principles."
Mikado had grinned, pulling out a chair and sitting directly across from her. "Bioengineering? Sounds impressive. But you know, all those smarts and looks together might be unfair to the rest of us mere mortals."
Tear had ducked her head, clearly flustered. "I—I'm not that impressive. I just… like studying."
"And I like bothering studious girls like you," Mikado had teased, reaching out to pluck one of the books from the stack. "Let's see what you're working on."
Despite Tearju's initial shyness and Mikado's relentless charm, the two quickly became good friends. Tearju was the meticulous one, triple-checking every formula and carefully documenting their experiments. Mikado, on the other hand, thrived on risk, often suggesting bold—and borderline reckless—approaches.
"Ryouko," Tearju had said one late night in the lab, her soft voice tinged with exasperation, "you can't just mix compounds like that without calculating the reaction! You could blow up the lab!"
"Relax, Tear," Mikado had replied, smirking as she held up a bubbling test tube. "I've got this under control. Probably."
"Probably?" Tearju had echoed, wide-eyed.
"Fine, fine," Mikado had said, setting the tube down and leaning on the counter. "I'll let you handle the boring stuff. But only because I like watching you work."
Tearju's cheeks had turned pink again, but she'd quickly buried her face in her notebook.
It wasn't until their final year that Mikado noticed Tearju pulling away. Her golden-haired friend began taking on secret projects, often disappearing for days at a time.
"Tear, you've been ditching me," Mikado had said one evening, cornering Tear in the library. She leaned over the table, her emerald eyes locked on Tearju's face. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
Tearju had glanced away, her fingers nervously adjusting her glasses. "I'm not ditching you, Ryouko. I've just… been busy."
"Busy with what?" Mikado had pressed, leaning in closer. "If you've found someone else to share late-night ramen with, I'll be very hurt."
"It's not that!" Tearju had said quickly, her face turning bright red. "I—I just got involved in a research opportunity. It's important."
"Important enough to keep secrets from me?" Mikado had asked, her teasing tone softening into genuine concern. "Come on, Tear. We're supposed to be a team."
Tearju had hesitated, then whispered, "I can't talk about it. Not yet."
Mikado sighed, staring at the holographic data on her screen. Those days of late-night ramen and whispered gossips felt like a lifetime ago. Now, all she had were questions—and a sinking feeling that the answers lay in Tear's vanished past.
"If she's still alive," Mikado muttered, "I'm tracking her down. And she'd better have a good reason for ghosting me."
But beneath the humor, Mikado's heart ached. She had always believed Tearju was a good person, dragged into something beyond her control. But what if she'd been wrong? What if Tear had willingly become a part of Eden's twisted experiments?
Another memory surfaced, softer and more intimate. It had been late, the two of them sharing a bench on the campus green after a grueling day in the lab. Tear had looked up at the stars, her glasses slightly askew, her expression unusually serious.
"Ryouko," she'd said quietly, "do you ever feel like we're messing with things we shouldn't? Like we're trying to play gods?"
Mikado had laughed, nudging her with an elbow. "What's the point of all this genius if we don't shake things up a bit? Besides, someone's gotta make life better. Might as well be us."
Tear had smiled faintly, but there had been a sadness in her eyes. "I just… hope we don't lose ourselves along the way."
Mikado had leaned back, watching her friend with a mix of affection and curiosity. "Tear, you worry too much. But if you ever start losing yourself, I'll be there to drag you back, kicking and screaming if I have to."
Now, sitting alone in her lab, Mikado clenched her fists. She had made that promise years ago, and she wasn't about to break it. If Tear was out there, tangled in the shadows of Eden, Mikado would find her.
"Wherever you are, Tear," she whispered, a wry smile playing on her lips, "I hope you're ready for me. Because I'm not letting you off the hook this time."
Mikado pushed back from her desk, standing abruptly. Her emotions swirled—a storm of shock, guilt, and determination. She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying herself.
She glanced at the small, framed photograph on her desk. A old picture from their university days—her and Tearju posing for a photo in their school uniform.
"I'll find the truth," she whispered. "For you, Tearju. And for Shirou."
Mikado turned off the monitors, her mind still racing, and headed upstairs to check on Shirou. She found him sitting cross-legged on the bed, his mismatched eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
"You're still awake?" Mikado asked, her voice softer than usual.
Shirou looked up, his expression unreadable. "I had a feeling you might need me."
Mikado chuckled, though her smile was tinged with sadness. "That intuition of yours is getting scary."
She sat down beside him, the mattress dipping under her weight. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"Something's wrong?" Shirou finally asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Mikado hesitated. How much should she tell him? Could she burden him with the possibility of being tied to Eden?
"There's... something I discovered tonight," she admitted. "Something about your past."
Shirou's eyes widened slightly. "Did you figure out what I am?"
"Not exactly," Mikado said, choosing her words carefully. "But I've found some clues. And I promise, I'll do everything I can to uncover the rest."
Shirou nodded, trusting her completely. But Mikado could see the flicker of unease in his eyes.
"Shirou," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, "whatever we find, it doesn't change who you are now. You're not defined by your past."
Shirou nodded again, this time with more conviction. "I believe you."
Mikado smiled, though her thoughts remained heavy. She couldn't shake the feeling that Eden's shadow loomed closer than ever.
And somewhere, she was certain, Tearju was watching. Whether as a friend or foe, Mikado couldn't yet say. But she would be ready. For Shirou's sake, and for her own.
The night began with its usual tranquility. Mikado lay on her side of the bed, her head propped up on one hand as she glanced at Shirou, who was busy trying to straighten the covers on his side. His red and white hair, illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, shimmered like molten fire and snow.
"You know," Mikado said with a playful smirk, "you're more meticulous about blankets than most surgeons are with sutures."
Shirou looked up, his heterochromatic eyes blinking in confusion. "I just want it to be neat. Isn't that what you always tell me?"
Mikado chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "True, but it's bedtime, not an exam. Relax a little."
Shirou huffed but allowed himself a small smile, climbing under the covers. He nestled close to Mikado, as had become their routine. Mikado felt an odd sense of peace having him there, though she'd never admit it out loud.
"Are you sure you don't want your own room, Shirou?" Mikado teased, glancing over her shoulder.
"No," Shirou said firmly, shaking his head. "I like being here."
Mikado chuckled, both flattered and amused. Before she could retort with a playful quip, the tranquility shattered.
A deafening explosion rocked the clinic, its shockwave knocking over the lamp and other objects in the room. Mikado barely had time to grab Shirou and pull him to the floor as a second explosion tore through the night, this one closer, sending a fiery glow through the window.
"—what's happening?" Shirou's voice wavered, his silver and gold eyes wide with fear.
Mikado didn't answer immediately. Her mind raced, calculating scenarios and outcomes. The security alarms blared, red lights flashing ominously.
"Stay close to me," she said firmly, pulling him to his feet.
Mikado started moving towards the clinic underground. It was the most defended area and has the most escape routes.
But before they could reach the secure inner rooms, the front doors of the clinic burst open. Standing in the midst of the smoke and debris was Kael—only he was no longer the affable, human visitor from earlier.
Kael's true form was otherworldly and terrifying. His tall, lean figure shimmered under the clinic's emergency lights, his skin resembling polished metal with shifting hues of blue and silver. His eyes glowed a piercing white, sharp and unrelenting. His voice, no longer warm and human, echoed with a metallic resonance.
"Doctor Mikado," Kael said, his tone icy. "Hand over the boy."
Mikado's lips curled into a smirk, masking her unease. "Kael, or whatever your real name is, you're back so soon. And you've redecorated. Very avant-garde."
Kael ignored her sarcasm, his gaze fixed on Shirou. "The boy doesn't belong to you. Surrender him now, and no harm will come to you."
Mikado stepped protectively in front of Shirou. "You'll have to make me," she shot back.
Kael tilted his head, his alien eyes narrowing. "That can be arranged."
With a flick of his wrist, Kael signaled his operatives, who swarmed in behind him. They were humanoid but clad in sleek, black suits of advanced armor, their faces hidden by glowing visors. They carried weapons that hummed with energy, far beyond anything Earth had developed.
"Shirou, stay behind me!" Mikado barked, her voice firm.
But Shirou's instincts kicked in. Fear mingled with a strange determination, he stepped forward. His hands trembling but glowing faintly. He concentrated, and a shimmering blade appeared in his hand, just as an energy blast hurtled toward Mikado. Shirou raised the blade and blocked the energy bullet, but the force of the impact destroying the blade and left Shirou panting.
Mikado gasped in shock at what just happened in front of her. This was the first time Shirou made a real weapon like a sword. She caught Shirou who was pushed back by the impact and tried to cover him with herself from the invaders in front of her.
Kael sneered, clearly unimpressed. "He's untrained. Weak. Yet you waste your efforts protecting him?"
Mikado raised an eyebrow, her usual confidence shaken. She looked around where she was and tried to find anything that could help her in this situation.
Kael waved his hand, and two operatives advanced, their weapons aimed directly at Shirou. Mikado's eyes flickered with anger.
But before Mikado could do anything dangerous, a new wall of cement appeared between Mikado and the Kael crow.
Mikado immediately glanced at Shirou behind her and saw his hands glowing weakly. She was honestly proud of his quick actions but now was not the time for words..
"Time to go, Shirou!" Mikado grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the emergency exit in another room behind them.
They stumbled out into the cool night air, the sounds of shouting and weapon fire growing fainter as they put distance between themselves and the now destroyed clinic. Mikado led Shirou through narrow alleys and abandoned streets, her mind racing.
"Why are they after me?" Shirou finally asked, his voice trembling. The moment they set foot outside, he returned the meek boy as always.
Mikado slowed down, holding his hand firmly. "Because you're special, Shirou. More special than even I realized."
His heterochromatic eyes searched hers, a mixture of fear and confusion. "But I'm not that special. I just want to stay with you."
Mikado's heart clenched, but she forced a reassuring smile. "And you will. I'm not letting anyone take you away, no matter who they are."
Behind them, the sounds of pursuit grew louder. Kael's voice echoed through the empty streets. "You can't run forever, Doctor Mikado!"
Mikado rolled her eyes. "For someone with advanced technology, you'd think he'd come up with a better line."
They ducked into an abandoned warehouse. This was one of her hidden refuge for emergency. Mikado tried to contact the authorities, but her communication devices set inside were out of use.
Kael and his group must have something that was jamming her communication's devices
Mikado scanned the area for anything that could be used to their advantage. She spotted an old, rusted piece of machinery and quickly rigged it into a makeshift trap.
"Stay hidden," she whispered to Shirou, ushering him behind a stack of crates.
Moments later, Kael and a handful of operatives stormed in. Mikado stepped out into the open, arms crossed.
"Looking for me?" she called, her tone casual.
Kael raised his weapon, but before he could fire, Mikado triggered the trap. The machinery roared to life, releasing a shower of sparks and a burst of steam that sent the operatives scattering.
It is a hastily made chemical that irritates the airways and causes severe burning in the eyes. In particular circumstances it can also become a poisonous.
Kael staggered back, his glowing eyes narrowing. "This isn't over, Doctor," he growled, retreating with his remaining forces.
Mikado watched them go, her stance less confident despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Once she was sure they were gone, she turned back to Shirou, who emerged from his hiding spot, visibly shaken.
"Are you okay?" she asked, crouching down to his level.
Shirou nodded slowly, though his hands still trembled. "I... I tried to help, but I wasn't strong enough."
Mikado placed a hand on his cheek, her expression softening. "You were brave, Shirou. And that's what matters, okay?"
He nodded again, this time with more conviction.
As they left the warehouse, Mikado's mind churned with questions. Who exactly was Kael working for? And what would they do next?
One thing was clear... the shadows of Shirou's past were closing in, and Mikado was not ready to deal with it yet.