An interlude.
We've got some massive shit coming. After that is the final arc. Maybe some NT prologue after that. But I guess we'll just have to see.
Disclaimer: A shit ton of swearing!
The third day of Daihasei Festival continued with much fanfare. The city was alive with people, their faces aglow with excitement and joy. Vendors lined the streets, hawking their wares and food to the eager crowds. Performers dazzled onlookers with their skills and talents. Ruiko, Mikoto and Frenda cheered for a certain white haired boy, who was participating in the festival's marathon race. Yoshikawa herself was busy chaperoning the group, ensuring their safety and well-being. Despite her stern demeanour, she couldn't help but smile when she saw how much fun the children were having.
Uiharu were quiet. She usually was quiet, but today, her silence was deafening. She kept casting glances at the boy down below, It was the same boy that she had been researching late last night. The same boy whose very existence defied explanation. And now, she knows more than she should. More than she could ever unlearn. Those images flashed before her very mind. The face was censored, but she knew exactly who it was. Who else had a scar stretching from one of their heads to the other besides her white haired upperclassmen?
She doesn't say a word. Not a single one. She clenches her fists, and squeezes her eyes shut tightly, determined to keep herself from giving anything away. But she can't ignore it. She can't just pretend like it never happened. And she knows that if she does, then everything will be worse. He has to know that she knows. That he can trust her.
For now, she waits. She waits for the perfect moment to approach him. To tell him everything. To ask him if what she saw was real. There's no way it wasn't. Because it would explain why he was missing for 2 years. Or at least... she thought so. But there was always a chance that it wasn't. What if it was all just a misunderstanding? What if someone else was the test subject, and Hirano had just been mistaken for him?
Would she embarrass herself? What if Hirano laughed at her, or worse, got angry? Uiharu gnawed at her lower lip, her mind racing with a flurry of questions and doubts. She had always been the type to seek out the truth, no matter how unpleasant or difficult it might be. But this was different. This was personal.
As the day wore on, Uiharu found herself growing increasingly anxious. The weight of the secret she carried was becoming unbearable, and she knew she couldn't keep it to herself for much longer. She needed to talk to Hirano, to confirm her suspicions and put her mind at ease.
So when the sky had turned an unsettling shade of twilight and the festival was starting to wind down, Uiharu seized her moment. She tugged at the hem of his P.E shirt, pulling him aside as he was about to go. "Hirano-san," she said, her voice wavering with uncertainty, "I need to talk to you." The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, but it was too late. Now she had to see how he'd react.
He doesn't look surprised. Maybe a bit, she's not that good at reading other people, but it's there. She's certain. There's a hint of wariness in his ruby-coloured eyes, but he looks at Yoshikawa nonetheless. The older woman nods.
They bid their goodbye to the others, walking away. Though, Uiharu could feel a certain gaze on her back.
A certain blond girl yawned exhaustedly. Having spent the entire day participating and spectating Daihasei in its full glory and splendour, Frenda Seivelun was more than ready to settle her weary form down into the comforts of her bed. It had been a most resplendent event, an unrivalled celebration of human ingenuity and technical prowess, but such force and thrust of energy were not without their effect on the human body. The room was tastefully appointed, with fine furniture and accents befitting a woman of Mugino Shizuri's stature.
Takitsubo Rikou, clad in her usual pink jacket, was idly flipping through channels on the television. The nightly news droned on about various unimportant events; nothing worth paying much attention to, at least not at the moment.
An operator of some sort, a woman whom they've met before but very rarely, comes in and Mugino Shizuri murmurs something incoherent from the depths of her plush chair, hiding her face behind a cup of tea. A file was placed on an ornate silver table near her, but it seemed to go unnoticed as she was otherwise engrossed in her own thoughts. The room remained quiet for a few moments longer, each woman absorbed in their own pursuits, until a discreet beep issued from a communications console on a nearby desk.
"God damn it, Mugino, you're 2 minutes late. Don't make it another fucking minute. Or we'll send Kumokawa here disguised as a bareback riding avatar and I swear to god we won't tell her which is the horse," came the crisp, sharp voice from the speakerphone, accompanied by a not-so-silent snigger. "Read the fucking frigging file already, will ya?"
Mugino Shizuri sighed, her mood souring as she set aside her cup of tea and stalked over to the communications desk. "Just when things were getting boring around here...," she muttered under her breath before activating the comms console. "This better be important."
She took a moment to read through the file, brow furrowed in concentration. "Dark May Project?" A sharp glare seemed to pierce through the thin veil of static and electrical hum, as if the one speaking was glaring right into Mugino Shizuri's eyes. "What? You've never heard of it?" came a tone of mock incredulity.
"I have, but I thought it was just another city experimentation project. Nothing more." Even as she spoke, Mugino Shizuri continued to pour over the file.
"It's much more than that," the voice explained, its tone taking on a darker, more ominous quality. "They were promising, but too many fuck ups and compromises. And now it's all gone wrong." A chill seemed to run down the spines of those listening in on the comms console; Frenda Seivelun shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a frown creasing her features.
"Hah, told ya." Mugino Shizuri snickers, sounding rather sarcastic as she continues. "So was it another burnt facility or another escaped rat?"
The hairs on the back of Rikou's neck stood at attention as she overheard the conversation. It seemed, somehow, different from their usual interactions with their handlers. There was an eerie undertone to it, as if there was something more sinister at play. The usually lethargic girl grew more alert and listening intently to every word, trying her best not to miss anything. She could feel the tension in the air as Mugino continued her conversation, her instincts starting to scream at her that something was wrong, very wrong.
"Perhaps worse," the voice replied cryptically.
The voice was quiet for a few moments. "An unknown person. We don't know whether it was a certain group or organisation of any faction... or perhaps just an individual with a personal vendetta. Whoever it was, they're good. Very good. The city's data banks were breached. We managed to track exactly what they're taking but we couldn't trace their steps. Even now, whoever it is could be watching us."
"Really?" Mugino merely raised an eyebrow at that, nonchalantly. The room was silent for a moment as she processed the news. "And you want us... I presume you want me to look into this matter?" she asked cautiously, an edge of suspicion creeping into her tone.
"No, we don't need amateurs handling the case." The voice was cold, emotionless.
"Then what the hell did you send all of these people to my house for?"
"Piss off, i'm not finished yet you fuckin' brat." Mugino snorted, crossing her arms over her chest in obvious defiance.
"Well, you've got my attention now. So why don't you just spill it?" She glanced sidelong over at Frenda and Takitsubo, a knowing smirk playing across her lips.
"Dismantle Dark May Project and burn every record related to it; Project Accelerator, Project Shockwave... everything." There, she'd said it. The voice on the other end sounded almost relieved to be rid of the responsibility.
Mugino did a double-take, her eyes narrowing as she processed the command. "That's it?"
No answer was given when the radio clicked, and went dead. The room was quiet for a moment as Mugino stared at the comms panel, her mind racing with possibilities.
"Tch, stop doing that." Mugino grumbled, turning towards the other two members of ITEM. "Alright, my cute little henchmens, it seems like we're going to be playing with some pretty big dogs this time around. Make sure you wear your big girl panties, alright?" She shot them each a wink before walking over to her teapot, pouring herself another cup of tea.
Frenda and Takitsubo exchanged uncertain glances. "Do we need bombs for this?"
Mugino shrugged. "Not too much please."
They sat across from each other. The light hum of conversation gradually fading away. It was obvious that Hirano didn't know what she wanted to talk about, and Uiharu was struggling to find the right words. So they stayed quiet.
The steaming hot cups of tea and coffee sat between them, barely disturbed. Uiharu took a deep breath, gathering her courage. But when she opened her mouth however, she found it hard to speak. As if her words were caught in a thick, viscous syrup, making it impossible for them to escape from her lips.
"Uiharu," Hirano finally broke the silence. Taken aback by the sound of his voice, she flinched, feeling a rush of blood going to her face. He sighed. "Let me guess. You found something, right?" The ruby-coloured eyes pierced through her defences, making her feel tiny and insignificant. Like a bug under a microscope. She couldn't help but nod in reply.
He didn't look surprised again. If anything, he seemed resigned. He paused, before asking another question. "Kuroko told you?" Uiharu nodded again, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her teacup. She knew now was the time to spill everything.
"Y-yes... but..." His eyes seemed to have flickered something, like a flash of irritation or annoyance. Uiharu hesitates, then slowly nods. Her words trail off, and she takes a deep breath, trying to muster her courage. "It was also my fault... I couldn't keep my curiosity in check... I..."
Tears begin to well up in her eyes, the weight of her guilt and fear pressing down on her like a great, invisible hand. "I... I found something else. About the experiments... The things they did... they... Why didn't you tell us? You could've-" Her voice cracks, as the tears now fall down her cheeks like a constant rain.
"It's complicated." Was all Hirano said. His voice was calm, almost detached.
"It's not complicated!" Uiharu exclaimed, her voice cracking with emotion. "They... they used you! They hurt you, and they didn't care! They didn't even see you as a person!" Her words tumbled out of her in a desperate rush, fueled by her anger and her fear.
Hirano looks surprised, genuinely this time. Perhaps it's because of the tears in her eyes, or maybe it's the vehemence with which she speaks. He shakes his head. "You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me!" Her voice was loud, enough to quiet the diner they were in. He looks at her, those red orbs searching hers for something. But what? Uiharu isn't sure. She thinks maybe the truth. Maybe of how scared she is. Maybe finally putting her trust in someone other than herself.
He frowned. A moment passes. Long and tense. Then, slowly, the frown fades from his face, replaced by an expression of resignation. "I..." His eyes were set at the centre of the table, his mouth was constricted. "... don't know anymore."
The pause is long and heavy, but Uiharu bites her tongue, giving him the space she thinks he might need. Finally, he looks up, those ruby orbs locked on hers once more. There's a new expression in his eyes now; weary, almost defeated.
He doesn't know what to say, he believes. She's seen enough in those eyes to know that he trusts very few, and for him to admit that there's something he doesn't know, something he can't understand... It's like a wall falling down. Uiharu's breath hitches in her throat. She expected anger, maybe denial... but not this. She had seen this expression before, in the eyes of wounded animals cornered with nowhere left to run. It's a look of defeat, of acceptance.
She wanted to comfort him, to help him somehow. But even she knew that words wouldn't be enough. Instead, she reached out her hand across the table. Slowly, hesitantly, felt her hands on his, their fingers intertwined. It was the most intimate thing they had shared so far.
"I'm sorry," Uiharu whispers. Hirano, feeling a strange sense of peace from the contact, inclines his head slightly.
"You shouldn't be." He pauses, gathering his thoughts. "What they did to me... it wasn't your fault. It's my burden to bear. And... I appreciate you being concerned about me."
She exhales a breath that she didn't even realise she was holding. She smiled softly. "You can talk to me, Hirano." She squeezes his hand gently. "Anytime you want, okay?" Her eyes shine with sincerity, and for a moment, he can see the person she truly is underneath it all: brave, empathetic, determined.
Uiharu Kazari is a beautiful person with the heart of a lion. Someone who holds her own, despite being so young and still so delicate. He couldn't help but feel a little awed by her presence. "Okay," he finally murmurs, looking at their intertwined fingers with a mix of surprise, relief, and gratitude.
Suddenly, she moved from her seat to his side, pulling him to a hug. He was surprised momentarily, but then relaxed into her embrace. It felt... good, to be held like this. Not because she was pretty or strong, but because somehow she managed to make him feel safe and protected. As if he wasn't as alone in the world as he had always thought he was.
He felt awkward though, Uiharu noticed his discomfort, and gently pulled away, smiling at him reassuringly. "It's okay. We'll figure this out together." Her tone was lighthearted yet ominously determined. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."
Alone. A word that caught his attention. It echoed through his mind like a distant memory, making him raise an eyebrow at the choice of words. Even if she didn't realise it, she had just given voice to something he hadn't been fully conscious of. The fact that someone was by his side despite knowing the truth. It was strange, to feel this way, this... dependent on another person. But now that it had been acknowledged, he couldn't help but feel a tiny surge of relief. Perhaps, just perhaps, things wouldn't be as bleak as they had seemed.
Perhaps there was still hope for him.
Mugino Shizuri, Ranked 3rd among the Level 5s, known among her peers as the Great Meltdowner.
As a Level 5, she's already established herself as one of the most dangerous people on the entire planet. A level 3 is 10x stronger than a Level 2, and a Level 4 alone could take on at least A handful of Level 3s.
But a Level 5 is on an entirely different level. A pure psionics specialist, dealing in the manipulation of matter and energy at the atomic and subatomic level. They are often regarded as the pillars of power within the city. You are either terrified of these monsters, or admire them from afar, unable to grasp their might.
It is said that one such person creates the energy of five dozen fission reactors just by sneezing. Though, it was just a rumour about some boy who kept screaming 'GUTS' in his free time.
So it shouldn't be a surprise that she took down the majority of the facility all by herself.
The researchers that she sat on were dead, their skins still sizzling whatever fat that their flesh had stored. Most of them had their bodies cut in half, charred to severe extremities.
"Gah, this is messy as shit..." Mugino muttered under her breath. The delicate nostrils of Rikou flared as she caught a whiff of the air, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
"If you dislike it so much, why did you even butcher that many people in the first place?" Mugino shot Rikou a disapproving glance before she suddenly continues. "Well, it's not like we could just leave any evidence behind. Better safe than sorry, and all that."
Frenda watched their interactions before looking down on those laying by the soles of her feet, their innards scattered across the floor like wet ropes. A few still clung to life, their gore-streaked fingers scrabbling pitifully at the ground as their coats caught on fire from the sheer heat of Mugino's power.
The blond girl sighed. It's always like this with her. The air was heavy with an eerie tension as the trio of ITEM agents stood amidst the carnage, their eyes pointedly avoiding the sight of the smoking remains.
"So, how do we cover this up?" Mugino mused, idly tapping her lips with a finger as she looked around the charred ruins of the research facility. Her voice took on a dark, ominous quality that sent shivers down Frenda's spine.
As if in answer, Rikou's head slowly craned towards a counter. The raven haired girl picked up a small chunk of concrete and threw it over there. Just then, they heard a faint scuffling noise. Immediately, a girl, no older than 9, pale, thin, and shivering uncontrollably crawls out from under the rubble. Her clothes are singed and torn, easily revealing the bruises and welts that cover her delicate skin from head to toe. Tears stream down her face as she stares at them with fear-filled eyes. In her embrace was a small blueish plushie. A dolphin from the shape of it.
Mugino narrowed her eyes as she fixed her gaze on the injured girl. The operator beneath her fingertips seemed to grow warmer, a fact she chose to ignore for the time being. She walked almost saunteringly over towards the preadolescent captive, the very picture of innocence and fragility in the face of their impending destruction.
"Now now, little one," Mugino purred, her voice cultured and almost lilting. "We're not here to hurt you." Mugino continued to speak, her tone soothing and calming. "In fact, I assure you that we will take care of everything. You just need to trust us, okay?" Her gaze shifted momentarily, searching the girl's eyes for any sign of acceptance or understanding.
The girl nodded. "What's your name?" Mugino asked.
"Umidori."
"Umidori-chan," Mugino smiled, the expression almost transparent in the dim light of her power. "That's a pretty name." she lied, knowing full well that it was anything but. "Umidori-chan, is there anyone else in this place other than you?"
The girl swallowed hard and nodded. "Kinuhata Saiai."
Shinobu silently awaits the return of Dolly. The moment the door to the examination room clicked shut, Nunotaba crossed her arms and fidgeted. She was unsettled, more than just because of the incoming checkup. The girl's presence seemed to have unravelled something inside of her, like a threadbare sweater losing its last strings.
She couldn't possibly keep her facade for too long. Dolly is dying, according to her own records. It's only a matter of time. More slowly than anticipated, but the end is coming. Even so, knowing that doesn't make it any less horrifying to watch. Nunotaba clenches her fists, trying to will herself back into cold, calculating mode.
When the girl entered, she began to wonder. Why feel infatuated with a doll? Why feel anything at all for this raw mimicry of life when it is nothing more than a tool, a vessel for the greater good? Maybe it's because Dolly is the closest thing she has to a friend. That is after all what clones are meant to be: extensions of oneself. Reflections, if you will.
Maybe because she has been the girl's outlet for emotion, the silver lining in the darkness of artificiality. And if that is the case, then perhaps there is more to be learned from this interaction than just data and observations. Perhaps Dolly's existence carries a deeper meaning, a symbol of hope amidst the sterile existence of the Radio Noise Project.
When she heard the creak of the metal stool before her, she stopped with her internal monologue, suddenly aware of the weight of her words. The girl skipped into the room, her eyes shining with playful energy. A small part of Nunotaba Shinobu couldn't help but smile. "That's your favourite toy, isn't it, Dolly?" Shinobu asked with a hint of curiosity as she saw the girl carry a green, frog-like plushie. The doll nodded eagerly, clutching the torn limb of the toy tightly as if for dear life. "Would you like me to sew the limb back on for you?" she asked, already knowing the answer. But she liked to hear it from the girl's mouth just the same. Dolly giggled, a sound as innocent and pure as a spring breeze, and nodded vigorously, her amber eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Yes please!"
Nunotaba Shinobu smiled warmly, feeling a pang of affection for the innocent girl. "I can do it after we finish our session for today." Dolly's eyes widened with glee and she squealed playfully, nearly jumping up and down on the stool in joy.
Eventually, she calmed down. The room was bright and sterile, like a laboratory from the pages of a sci-fi horror novel. Every inch of space seemed to exude an unsettling sense of orderliness, almost as if it were actively rebuffing the presence of life and emotion. And yet, amidst this cold and clinical backdrop, there was a sense of warmth that emanated from the pair. Nunotaba Shinobu, with her dark hair and calm demeanour, seemed almost maternal towards Dolly.
The girl sat obediently on the stool, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her chestnut brown hair, tied into a single ponytail, swayed gently as she breathed in and out, the gentle rhythm of her breath punctuated by an occasional distant beeping sound.
"So, Dolly," Shinobu begins, sitting back down on her stool. "How have you been feeling lately?" she asks, glancing down at her clipboard before looking up again. The girl shrugs nonchalantly.
"Okay, I guess." she says, maintaining eye contact with Nunotaba. "Maybe a little tired sometimes." She yawns, stretching her arms. "But I'm alright," she adds, her voice reassuringly bright. Nunotaba nods, making a few quick notes on the clipboard before speaking again.
"Is there anything particular that seems different? Anything you've been feeling unusually tired from?" she presses, her tone slightly more serious now but still gentle and understanding. Dolly thinks about it for a moment before shaking her head.
"Not really," she says honestly. "Everything's mostly the same. I just feel tired from time to time, I guess." Her brow furrows slightly, perhaps unconsciously mirroring Nunotaba's expression. "Is that bad?" The girl asks softly, her voice suddenly losing its composure and becoming shaky. Nunotaba reaches out and gives Dolly's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"It's fine."
'No it's not.'Shinobu berates herself. The girl's eyes slowly regained some of their luster as Nunotaba Shinobu assured her, but it was clear that her words carried more weight than intended.
The clone's time isn't exactly that long, after all. Even with the right treatments and diet, her lifespan would remain minimal, at best a fraction of what the SISTERs would be. That's part of the purpose of cloning her in the first place, to test the limits of such solutions, and find ways to improve them.
She knew that the girl's time was limited, she knew the risk she posed, but still she couldn't help but feel the weight of her words. Each syllable pulled at her insides, reminding her not just of the inevitable end, but of the painful symmetry between their fates. For every moment she managed to give Dolly, she would be taking a step closer to her own unmaking. It was always supposed to be just a job, but somehow it had become so much more for Nunotaba Shinobu. The girl, Dolly, was like a ray of light amidst the sterile darkness of her existence. Her innocence, her curiosity, and even her pain, all touched something deep within the teenage scientist.
Who could have known that an artificial life is more human than the human being himself? Who could have guessed that serving as a replacement for a real child could be so taxing on a soul. And yet there it was, and there they were, bound together by fate and circumstance, playing out their twisted game of life and death.
Dolly had spent what meagre time she had just so she could meet her little sisters, siblings that wouldn't even know of her name. Shinobu couldn't just let that happen. She couldn't bear the thought.
So she vowed to protect that legacy of her, to keep it safe even at the cost of her own existence. Even if that meant abandoning the path laid before her, straying from scientific progress and daring to defy fate itself, she would carve out a new path for herself.
No God could be created with blood and deaths as its foundations.
I've been spelling Daihasei festival wrong all these time. For God's sake!
Anyways, new stuff next week!