Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Confusion followed betrayal, and a fierce battle broke out midst the confusion.

"Nagi, no!" Yuito cried, desperate to do something yet doing nothing as he watched his best friend cut Captain Seto to ribbons.

Blood spattered on the ground and on Nagi's face. The warmth of it jolted him from his oppressive mental prison. But only for a moment.

Leaden, death-defying footfalls followed. Seto approached the startled boy and took him into his embrace. Tender and caring, he held him as a father would his son. "I won't... let them have you, Nagi... Not while you're under my command," his voice rasped painfully in his throat.

Those were his final words and zapping Nagi's altered brain was his final action. As he fell, limp and lukewarm, opposite of the boy, he wondered if the electrical surge he'd used was too strong. He hoped it wasn't.

His cold body hitting the ground was the catalyst for the world's end. It stoked the flame of emotion, a budding blossom of red strings.

A panicked Yuito called out to Kasane when he glimpsed fate's red glow flowering at her feet. The fear of losing yet another comrade propelled him forward, made him reach out to her.

When the tips of their fingers met, red fate colliding with red fate, the blooming flower of time opened up and swallowed them whole.

A duo trekked a shattered land, one abused by the ravages of war and neglected by time. The weathered pavement on which they walked and the surrounding buildings were crumbling. Great thorns, like the angry claws of trees seeking vengeance for the destruction of their world, jutted forth from these shattered structures.

The two men had already been walking for hours, with the howl of the wind — a lonesome, ghoulish breath — tugging at their clothes and hair. The journey began to wear onYakumo.

"So, what's this thing you want to show me, anyway? He asked, casting his discontent into the shallows of allusion.

"You'll see when we get there," Louis answered.

"If not to fight the Lost or search for blood beads, I'm not sure why the hell we're out here. You can't blame a guy for wanting to know."

Louis said nothing.

"How much farther anyway?"

Louis stopped. "There." He pointed."

Yakumo looked, and his eyes grew wide. "A weakness in the mist..."

Louis did not respond. He instead walked forward.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Yakumo called after him. He looked on with horror as Louis stepped into the mist.

The mist in which he now stood was a fading substance. It looked more like red-colored dust than some injurious mist conjured up to stop their kind from seeking the beyond.

Louis' eyes didn't glow red with blood thirst. He didn't become one of the Lost, nor did he disintegrate.

It perplexed Yakumo, even drew his curiosity. Yet caution remained as he approached and poked his fingers into the swirling fog. He wiggled his digits only when he felt brave enough to do so. Red harmless whirls formed around his hand as he continued stirring at the mist. "Do you think it's him?" he asked, concerned.

"No. Our friend is the Successor of the Blood, after all."

"Then, think it's related to that quake the other day?"

"It likely could be."

Removing his hand from the mist, Yakumo held his arm akimbo as his brow creased with contemplation. "How the hell did you find this, anyway?"

"I followed a strange creature."

Yakumo raised a brow and slung his massive sword over his shoulder.

"It wasn't one of the Lost," Louis explained, clearing up any misconceptions.

"A Horror then?"

"No. It looked like a vase with legs."

Yakumo scoffed. "A vase... Like, a flower vase with legs? Really."

"I know what I saw."

Yakumo said nothing more on the matter. He just shrugged. "Okay, then. So, what do you think caused this?" He arched his eyes, referencing the fading mist.

Louis perched his chin on a thumb and forefinger. After giving the question some thought, he then answered. "I believe we'll find the answer outside the Gaol of the Mist."

Not an unwelcomed answer. Yakumo beamed. "Hell yeah! Party outside the Gaol," he celebrated — a little too soon.

"This is a survey; nothing more," Louis chastised him.

"Yeah, well, survey, party, whatever, let's just hope we don't run into any Horrors... or that vase of yours."

Paying Yakumo's quip no heed, Louis turned his back to him and faced the mist.

It was difficult to navigate. They had to wade through the red mist as if wading through a sticky, humid bog. There were virulent, deep red patches — like angry bits of poisonous clouds fallen to earth from heaven —, and they warranted a level of caution.

"Watch your step," Louis would say whenever noticing one of these dangerous wispy landmines lying in wait.

"Watch your flank," Yakumo likewise warned his friend when an angry-looking nimbus of red wafted in their direction under the militant order of a poorly-timed gust of wind.

It took them a tense forty-five minutes to navigate through the mist. But they made it out unscathed. An underwhelming sight greeted them on the other side.

Cars, models which they've never seen, littered the roads. Some were stacked helter-skelter atop each other in five-or-so-way collisions — as if their owners had crashed, in a frenzy, to escape something terrifying. Some were flipped over with their doors ripped off the hinges.

From strange places odd plants grew. They grew from the pavement. They also grew inside abandoned cars and on what looked to be skeletal remains.

"Hey, I wouldn't touch that if I were you," Yakumo warned.

Louis ran his finger along the stem of one plant. "Feels like..." he said. He cut himself short and reared back up. Dusting off his hands and leaning a hip against the rusty old car, he cast his ruminative gaze up at the sky.

Following his lead, Yakumo looked up as well. What he saw stunned him. "There's some freaky film covering the sky."

Louis hummed.

"Not that we could tell from inside the Gaol... but what the hell happened out here?"

"It's like the earth itself has been sealed off..." Louis opined.

"You really think so?" Yakumo was equal parts curious and anxious.

"This is just conjecture, but if the sky suggests anything, it's that the surviving humans abandoned earth for space."

A forlorn gaze floated to the ground. Yakumo's spirit was as good as despaired thanks to Louis' summation. "So, humanity just abandoned the fight, huh..."

"It's only conjecture; don't take it too seriously."

"Yeah, but —"

"Let's go."

And that was that.

With a whirl of emotions flitting about his features, Yakumo scratched his neck. He moved on and forward with Louis.

For hours they walked, devastation's reel passing them by until they happened upon a highway. It was a wide highway, able to pack many cars in multiple lanes.

Without a soul to manage it, some of its overpasses crumbled like brittle bones. There were some exits that led to nowhere, some that led somewhere, and others that led to a drop of certain death.

Rugged, old, and so stubborn it refused to give in to dilapidation, it stood proud, like a testament to humanity's indomitable will. The highway refused to bough even to the pressure of deterioration, signifying true grit in the face of certain destruction.

Debris fell to a sea of concrete below as Yakumo peered over a shattered overpass. He whistled. "That's quite the drop," he said, mostly to himself. "Hard to imagine anyone had the time to build this with those Horrors running around.

Louis, joining him to peer over the edge, replied, "It's strange... we have yet to see a Horror."

A pensive Yakumo crossed his arms. As usual, his friend's observation was accurate. But they remained cautious despite that. Their periphery stayed open. They kept their weapons drawn and blood veils at the ready as they hiked the abandoned highway's length.

Three dead ends later, and after Yakumo narrowly avoided plummeting to his immortal death and rebirth, they discovered a Cherry Blossom tree. Its preternatural size inspired awe and demanded respect. Its roots, which the revenants had passed before but couldn't identify, dug into the pavement and earth as if proclaiming itself the king of this crumbling, ruined realm.

"That's one helluva tree," Yakumo's words rasped in his chest. He approached the colossus of pink and brown.

Louis joined him. To look up both men's necks had to bend so far back that the base of their skulls touched their backs.

High above the tree, hanging in the sky like a black pearl of destruction, was a strange-looking distortion that pulsated with positive charge and crackled with negative energy. The phenomenon was unknown to either Yakumo or Louis, the latter of which being the more scientifically driven of the two. Neither could describe it. Even the feeling it instilled in them remained ineffable. Fear? Unrest? Maybe confusion? They never had the chance to explore the possibilities, however.

Louis' head swiveled to the side.

"What is it?" Yakumo asked when he noticed his partner stir.

"Company..."

"It was only a matter of time, huh."

"Here they come."

Strange otherworldly creatures crept up from behind. These odd beasts lunged forward, hoping to catch their prey by surprise. But both revenants were prepared.

Brandishing Oni Bane, Yakumo spun around with a keen glint in his eye and swung his weapon upward, cutting his attacker in two. More took the fallen creature's place and accosted him.

Meanwhile, Louis fought against what looked like mannequins. These mannequin-like creatures moved like walking corpses with rigor mortis. They each held a metal bar that curved into a dangerous hook at one end, and they had a flame blazing atop their heads.

With gnarled, animal-like legs, they flounced about before striking. This made reading their movements a simple task, leaving them open for counter attacks. Louis watched how they staggered before they would raise their cane-like weapons. He then dodged when they attacked, following up with a rending slice, one of practiced precision that separated hands from wrists. Louis danced with blade in hand.

Each creature wailed before bursting into what seemed to be flower petals upon defeat. These petals, looking like images conjured up from a dream, drifted to the ground before fading away.

Both men fought with much ferocity, rending the metallic armor off canteen-like freaks of nature and cracking the jaws of large yawning monsters. They were so lost in battle that they failed to see the drone hovering overhead.

Only when flying creatures with warped inverted bodies, where their heads and arms hung beneath them, attacked from above, did Yakumo look up. He shielded his eyes when he was bombarded with sudden camera flashes.

A distraction at worst, the flashing light left him vulnerable and open to the speedy charge of a galloping foe. It rushed forward, swinging its masked face before driving its metallic spike of a nose through the revenant's chest.

The force of the impact sent a distracted Yakumo flying right into a car, where he slumped before stamping to his feet. Is chest had since healed, but his pride remained wounded.

"You bastard..." he snarled like a wrathful demon from the deepest, darkest bowels of hell.

In his fury, he tore the hood from the car, with just a single hand, to use as a weapon in place of the one he'd lost during the assault. He saw only red as he rushed forward and parried another attack from the galloping beast. He caught its blood-drenched metallic spike within the door's alloy and used the own creature's weight against it with a swift jerk and a twist.

Caaack! The creature's neck snapped with relative ease. Yakumo, winding back, prepared for the finishing blow. He summoned forth his hounds from undying blood, made manifest by his blood veil, and sent the growling canine heads to rent the metal from the beast's face. With its soft bits finally exposed, its head got smashed in, brutally and with enough force to crack the pavement, by the incensed revenant.

That was the end of them. Louis had dealt with the remaining during the brief time it had taken Yakumo to recover from being knocked clean off his feet.

Only the clicking and flashing remained.

Irked by the distraction it had caused, Yakumo stormed toward it, grabbing his sword along the way — ready to tear that drone to pieces. But then it spoke, prompting Louis to rush in and stop him. Begrudgingly, a reluctant Yakumo stayed his hand.

"Wow! What and incredible display of physical prowess!" The voice likely came from a built-in speaker.

Louis could only push back against Yakumo's urge to lunge forward and strike the drone. And again, he yielded. If only just because Louis was his friend.

"Are you two new OSF recruits? What's your names? Platoon commander?"

Too many questions...

Louis and Yakumo exchanged glances, speaking to each other through their gazes.

Yakumo released all his pent-up irritation in one extensive sigh when Louis stepped aside. Without hesitation, he dashed forward as swift as lightning to slice the drone in half. It whirred as fell to the pavement.

"Sorry about that," Louis said, mostly to whomever was speaking through the now bisected drone, "but we can't have you following us."

"Well, I'll be damned. I guess humanity's still around after all," Yakumo stated with a smile. He was awash with relief. "So, what now?"

"We return to base to assess the situation."

"Why wait?"

Louis loosed a thoughtful sigh. "We don't know whether they're friend or foe. We can return to make contact another time. But for now, we should discuss what we've discovered back at base."

"One step at a time, right?" Yakumo asked, doing his best not to frown.

Patting his fellow disheartened revenant on the shoulder — three heavy, apologetic pats —, Louis nodded. "Come on. We should leave before we're spotted again," he said, giving the much taller man's shoulder a little shake.

Chapter Text

Jaded dark green eyes with a dash of dull red gazed upon a tree, a giant of brown and pink. In his eyes lay sorrow, dismay, and bitterness, a demon of many faces, forms, and assorted negative emotions, hankering to impose ruin on an unjust existence. Karen was contemplating leaving, when suddenly his forlorn gaze became stern.

"Who's there?" he asked, voice one intimidating growl.

Behind him stood a man in a brown plaid suit who kept his hands behind his back and commanded his presence with grace.

Karen turned to face him. "I won't ask again; who are you?"

The mysterious man smirked.

"… What do you want?"

The man extended a gloved hand, an offer he knew the younger gentleman could not refuse.

In a thriving city full of brain-powered visions and automated cars on congested roadways, a restless Suoh stirred. Rumors and speculations — the nutrient dense hemolymph bound to any such chitinous government-regulated society — of conspiracies circulated round. A smattering of groups — powerful and powerless alike — gossiped about the video feed caught by the crows some days ago.

"The Secret Ops" the people called them. They were a duo shrouded in mystery, spotted slaying others on Kunad Highway.

Many believed the men were super soldiers created by either the Suoh or Seiran government.

Such news reached as far as Yuito's hideout, where he lay on the couch, stretched out with an arm cast over his eyes to stave off a splitting headache. His brain pounded like a piece of meat getting pulverized with a mallet.

Despite this discomfort, however, he sat up and rubbed his eyes when the door opened. "Welcome back. Did you guys grab all the supplies we need?" he said as he stood and approached the door to greet his friends.

"Nope. Sorry." The voice, one of familiarity, startled him.

His arm, which had been rubbing at his eyes with moderate pressure, fell from his face. With eyes wide and mouth agape, Yuito stared at both Arashi and Kasane. Though he trembled in their presence, he remained unflappable as he asked them why they were in his hideout and how they found him.

Lax as ever, Arashi replied, "Oh, relax. We're only here to talk."

"Y-you mean you're not here to kill me?"

"That depends on your cooperation, " it was Kasane who answered. Her gaze lacked malice, yet it still pierced like a bitter cold, causing Yuito to shiver.

Arashi sighed. "What she means is we want to call a truce. For now."

"Yeah, but..." Yuito hazarded, "why were you trying to kill me in the first place?"

To that, Arashi waved her hand. "That's not important. What is important is that something weird is going on. You heard about it right?"

Yuito bit. He just hoped it wasn't bait. "Uh, heard about what?"

"The suspicious guys spotted fighting Others near the Kunad Gate."

Oh, that. He nodded. "Y-yeah. I heard about it. Though I think the video got taken down. I can't find it anywhere."

"Don't worry, I saved and encrypted copy" — a sharp chime echoed in Yuito's brain, a brain message "— … it seems someone doesn't want this video available to the general public."

He watched the video. It had a grainy quality for a brain message, but he could still make out everything. As he watched one of the men tank a hit from an Auger Sabbat, he couldn't help but be impressed. As he watched the second moved as quickly and gracefully as nothing he'd ever seen, Yuito couldn't help but comment on his speed and reflexes. Finally, he noticed it. "But they don't look like they're using any powers."

Arashi shook her head and shrugged in that lazy way she always does. She expected him to say as much. "I wouldn't be too sure. Watch the video again. When tall, dark, and brawny transforms his coat. I'm not too sure; I've re-watched that same scene in slow motion nearly a dozen times. But it looks like he's somehow using his blood to manipulate it."

"B-blood?!" Yuito gasped.

With one arm akimbo, Kasane narrowed her eyes into interrogative slits. "There's something strange about them, something inhuman," she said, practical and straightforward. "Don't you find it odd that they appeared right after Seiran's declaration of independence?"

"I mean... I guess it's a little odd. Yeah."

"Then you'll have no arguments coming with us to confront them."

Speechless at first, Yuito choked on his consternation before finding his voice again. "Hold on. I didn't agree to anything yet. And why should we get involved, anyway. Do you actually believe those guys are involved with the Seiran government?"

A question that prompted Kasane to cross her arms. She worked through and unseen algorithm of cause and effect — action and reaction. Then she answered. "No." She looked Yuito in the eyes as she said this. "The Seiran government stationed NDF soldiers around Kunad Highway. It's likely they suspect Suoh."

"Yeah. The same conspiracy is buzzing around Seiran too. People think Suoh created super soldiers."

"And that's why we need to find them first," Arashi added. She explained how she didn't like the idea of two men falling into the clutches of an insecure government. Still, she sounded too nonchalant for her own good.

"That's assuming they are people," Kasane rejoined.

"Hey, they looked human enough to me," said Arashi, unwittingly opening a whole can of worms.

"Humans can't rip car doors off hinges with their bare hands... humans can't survive fatal wounds to the chest without medical attention... humans —"

"Okay, OKAY. I get it. Still, we can't let Seiran or Suoh get their hands on them. You know what they'll do, Kasane."

"I'm well aware," Kasane stated without batting an eye.

They lost him. Yuito scratched his head. He asked if they could explain what they were "well aware" of, but Kasane — being Kasane — told him not to worry about it. Much to Yuito's distaste.

He rubbed his temples. "I don't know what's going on. I deserved to know what's going on," he stressed. He wanted to know why Kasane killed his father and why she wanted to kill him as well. He wanted to know, if she knew anything about it, of Suoh's plans.

Arashi, yawning, answered only his last question. And she did so in a cryptic shadow of words, saying, "Seiran government bad; Suoh government bad also. That answer your question?"

An answer like that was liable to give anyone whiplash. "Well, yes... and no," Yuito said with dissatisfaction as clear as the rainbow-colored skies hanging above New Himuka.

"Tough luck. I don't feel like explaining myself."

Their conversation only drew to a close when they set a date for their next meetup, which Kasane and Yuito agreed would be at Kunad Highway. There was, however, one glaring what if looming over them. What is the two men never return? But Arashi wasn't worried.

"They always return to the scene of the crime," she said with a languished yet oddly peppy drawl.

Return to the scene of the crime, huh? Yuito couldn't help chuckling at Arashi's carefree carelessness. If only he could afford that luxury.

As expected, Seiran's NDF occupied Kunad Highway. Each intimidating in his or her own right. They carried assault rifles — ready for battle. From what both Yuito and Kasane Platoons could glean from sporadic conversations between or among soldiers, the Seiran NDF were, in fact, after the suspicious men.

On two occasions, as each platoon made their infiltration, they encountered a fracas with the soldiers. On both occasions, they arose victorious. The two teams coalesced when they reached the rendezvous point.

"The Kunad Gate," said Yuito, alarmed, as he peered up at the great black pearl in the choppy, turbid sky. "Has it gotten bigger?"

"Never mind that," said Kagero, sounding even more alarmed.

"We have bigger worries now," Luka added, breaking out in cold a sweat.

Before them stood the two suspicious men. Both wore air purifier masks, giving them a formidable appearance. They stepped forward. A motion that added to their intimidating presence and prompted the psionics to draw their weapons — a display that riled up one of the two men.

He drew his sword and chuckled. "Trust me; this is a fight you won't win," he was gracious enough to warn them.

"Wh-who are you?" Yuito asked. His voice and sword hand trembled.

"Do you have a death wish or something? Or are you just stupid?" the man responded. "You approached us, so it's only natural you should offer your names first."

And so it began. The air thickened with tension, becoming a putty of unease and distrust. It made breathing difficult and kept either side from lowering their guard or weapons. That was until someone gasped.

Kagero's red and green eyes shifted to Tsugumi's rigid, shivering form. Pure terror. It was a look he had never seen her wear before. "What is it, Tsugumi?" he asked.

"Th-there's something inside them... something attached to their hearts," she answered.

"We won't ask again," Kasane said, authority interwoven with her voice. "Who are you?"

All riled up, blood burning, the man stepped forward. His smaller comrade stepped back.

"You better be ready to back those threats with action," he growled, eyes glowing red and a strange crimson liquid, like flowing streams of electricity, imbuing his cloak. One heavy foot after the other, body swaying side to side in a menacing swagger, he approached the group of nine without a hint of fear or an ounce of hesitation.

Kasane acted first, tossing a car at him with telekinesis, which he blocked and even swatted aside as if shooing away a bothersome gnat. An impressive display of prowess, for certain. But witnessing such a feat did little to deter another attempted assault.

Following Kasane's attack, Luka teleported just above the man's head and bore down with a weighty weapon. Much to his surprise and horror, his attack was stopped, and he and his weapon were flung back at the group. The impact nearly bowled them over.

Next, Shiden, annoyed by the man's calm demeanor under what should have been immense pressure, charged in. He sent a great bolt of electricity before him, crying, "Don't be so cocky!"

The man convulsed when struck and fell to his knees, slumping over. But he recovered as quickly as he'd been incapacitated. He dashed forward when he stood, moving with impossible speed, and knocked the boy unconscious with a single blow to the back of the head.

A shaken Kagero recoiled. "What's this guy's deal? It's like he's not even human..." he thought aloud.

However, Arashi was not as easily impressed, or shaken, as Kagero. "Sure, he's fast," she said, disappearing in the blink of an eye and reappearing behind the unstoppable man. She had the spotlight now, and how she shined with that overconfident smirk on her face. "But I'm faster."

Before the mysterious man could react, he'd been cut up by Arashi's chainsaw. Blood splattered on some nearby cars and the pavement. Yet he remained standing despite his injuries.

She couldn't believe it. Sure, she held back. Most of his wounds were superficial. Even so, he should be...

"Out flat?" asked the mysterious man, like some kind of mind reader. He peered at her from over his shoulder.

Gasps and whispers arose among the group.

"His wounds... they've healed!" cried Tsugumi. She hid and ducked behind Kagero, who was thinking of running and hiding himself. Her words almost sent them all into a panic.

Meanwhile, the man dusted himself off and cracked his neck. He then addressed the anxious strangers. "Relax. We're not your enemy. The name's Yakumo."

"Yakumo? Like, Sumeragi Yakumo?" asked Yuito, innocently.

"No. Like Shinonome Yakumo."

"O-oh."

"And my name is Louis."

More introductions followed, starting with Yuito, then Kyoka, then Gemma, then Kagero, Kasane, Luka — who apologized for attacking Yakumo —, Hanabi, Arashi, and finally, Tsugumi, who also introduced Shiden since he was unable.

Louis looked the group over. That red gaze of his unsettled them. Luckily, he didn't need to study them too long before realizing what they were.

"You're humans," he said, his observant gaze softening.

"Yep," Yakumo agreed. He sniffed the air. "Definitely human."

Arashi gawked for a mere second before raising a brow. It was a surprising amount of physical effort on her part. "So, we're to assume you're not human?"

The revenants exchanged glances. It was a quick exchange, and they seemed to come to some nonverbal agreement before directing their sights back to the group.

Louis then asked if they could all speak someplace more private. Kyoka, the motherly figure of the group, suggested the hideout. And while Yakumo and Louis were fine with this, half of Yuito's team and half of Kasane's team weren't so receptive of the idea.

Kasane made it crystal clear that she didn't trust them.

Tsugumi thought they seemed harmless enough. After all, they — Kasane, Luka, Shiden, and Arashi — initiated first strike. The least they could do now was give both men the benefit of the doubt.

In the end, Kyoka somehow convinced the naysayers, and they returned to base with these unknowns.

Still, as they walked, doubtful murmurs spread among them. Kyoka remained consistent in her effort, fighting an uphill battle to assuage anxieties. First, she suggested a sing-along-song to lighten the mood. No bite. Then she recited a luck prayer — one of friendship and happiness, so she said — that was little more than a bunch of incoherent consonant and vowels slapped together with harmonious duct tape and the cadence equivalent of chewing gum. It served only to earn her strange glances and beckoned cringe.

She eventually got her point across, however. The group eased up and promised her to give Louis and Yakumo a chance. Kasane remained the only one with reservations.

When they arrived at the hideout, Yakumo whistled upon entering. He looked around, soaking in the eclectic aesthetic of varying personal tastes before laying Shiden — whom he had offered to carry along the way — on one of the two couches. He propped up the boy's head with a pillow. After doing so, he joined Louis' side.

Two more entered from the kitchen — they introduced themselves as Haruka and Wataru, and they were smitten with intrigue by the two men.

Finally, revenant eyes met curious and concerned gazes. "So, where would you like to begin?" asked Yakumo, leaning his back against that of the couch. He and Louis removed their purifier masks, revealing their faces.

Chapter Text

Louis and Yakumo, seeing as they had nothing to hide anymore, removed their purifier masks.

“Well, first tell us what… or um… who you are exactly,” said Yuito.

Yakumo shifted his green eyes to Louis. He figured it best to let the brainiac handle all the talking.

Initially lost in thought, Louis sought the most appropriate words to begin with. His brows tensed when he found them, then he began. The description that followed was of events from a time long ago.

At that time, humanity faced the threat of extinction, completely at the mercy of voracious creatures that came to be known infamously as Horrors. They were seemingly without weakness and were resistant to the weapons humanity had during those apocalyptic days. These weapons were only enough to buy humanity time until the BOR Parasite's discovery...

Louis pointed to his chest, where his heart rested. “It returned the dead to life,” he explained, “made immortals of them. And we revenants were used as weapons, soldiers, and humanity’s last hope for survival against the Horrors.”

Kagero interrupted at this moment, waving his hands this way and that. “Woah, woah, woah! Time out,” he said, voice rife with confusion and disapproval, garnering himself the attention of every eye in the room now. “You mean to tell me you were brought back from the dead… by some freaky bug?”

“And forced to fight in a war, no less,” added an empathetic Gemma. “Sounds rough.”

“I believe the appropriate term would be unethical,” Kyoka chimed in with a gentle hand on Gemma’s arm.

Realizing the group was quickly headed for a rabbit trail, Yuito endeavored to get everyone back on track. “So, you said, ‘a long time ago.’ How long ago did this happen? Was it before New Himuka’s founding?”

New Himuka? Yakumo raised a brow in question, prompting Yuito to explain. He divulged New Himuka’s history. The abridged version, respectively. He only mentioned his ancestor, Sumeragi Yakumo, and the role he played in New Himuka’s founding.

Louis hummed to himself when Yuito's explanation drew its conclusion. A ruminative expression had since etched itself into his features. “It would seem many years have passed during our isolation from the rest of the world,” he said, answering one of Yuito’s next questions purely by chance; the young man wanted to know where the revenants had been this whole time. “If I had to make an estimate,” Louis continued, “I’d say a few thousand years have passed… maybe… given the new infrastructure we’ve seen on our explorations.”

Too shocked to even thank the revenant for answering his prior question, Yuito gaped, unreservedly thunderstruck. The room came to life with gasps and murmurs; some were skeptical and others of an incredulous nature.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, and trust me, if I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t believe it myself…” Yakumo tried leveling with them, hoping his words could assuage any contempt conceived from doubt. “But it is true. We haven’t seen the world outside the Gaol for a very, very long time. Think about how we feel: The Horrors are gone, without so much as a trace; we don’t know what role humanity played in their eradication. Hell, even Louis’ ‘Moon Hypothesis’ is up in the air —”

“Moon hypothesis?” Kyoka abruptly asked, growing alert.

Likewise, Kagero squirmed where he stood across from the revenants, tightening his folded arms around his chest and tucking his chin into his collarbone.

Louis, taking Kyoka's question for a cue, explained. “We noticed the strange film in the sky —”

“You mean the Extinction Belt?” Wataru jumped in.

“So, that’s what you call it.” Louis went on. “I believe it’s some kind of barrier, much like the red mist which contains us revenants. It’s my theory that humanity fled to the moon and sealed off the earth to contain the Horrors.”

A green gaze drifted while Louis spoke. It stopped and lingered on the blonde writhing in discomfort. Yakumo quirked a brow. “You okay there? You look a little… tense.”

The words startled Kagero, seemingly wrenching him away from the deepest, darkest confines of his mind when he quickly rejoined. “Oh… Yeah. It’s just all this talk about the moon brings back some pretty stale memories.”

“Why? You from outer space or something?” Yakumo joked.

At one point, it seemed as if Kagero grimaced, but, given the obnoxious laugh overshadowing it, nobody could tell it apart from one of his usual murky smirks. He walked up to the revenant and gave him a heavy slap on the shoulder. “You’re a funny guy. You know what, I can already tell… you and me are gonna be fast friends.”

“Kagero was actually a part of a cu…” a mousy voice spoke up, cutting itself off briefly. “I mean, religion. He’s from Togetsu.”

Green and red gaze now on the shy girl, Kagero grinned his teeth out, insisting Tsugumi needn’t hold back on his account. “They were totally a cult,” he reassured with a frown.

Tsugumi continued. “In Togetsu… they worship the moon. Kagero was a priest.”

At “priest”, Yakumo chuckled. He followed it up with a joke or two at Kagero's expense — something about how the blonde didn’t seem like the religious type. To this, Kagero took offense, or pretended to, anyway.

“Hey, I know looks can be pretty deceiving — being the handsome ladykiller I am and all — but I was once a priest in my past life. And a damn good one too.”

“Uh-huh. So, why’d you leave?” Yakumo asked, voice rife with shrewd intuition.

“Let’s just say it was a difference in religious principles.”

“Like philandering?”

“Exactly. You have no idea how stiff Togetsu women are. Sheesh. They should really let their hair down every once in a while.”

Yet again, they had veered off topic, and this time Yuito could do little to stop it. He could barely get a word in amid Yakumo and Kagero’s back and forth. Thankfully, Yakumo soon found himself struck with a sudden question; if it were not for that, Yuito feared the two men’s banter would have lasted well into the dark of night, cutting into what could have been an otherwise productive influx of crucial information. It was important, after all, to understand who these revenants were and to determine whether they could be trusted as possible reliable allies.

“So, I’m curious,” Yakumo began, his apparent confusion growing with each word. “You guys are human, right? But what’s up with those weird powers of yours? Throwing cars with your mind,” he looked at Kasane, “teleporting and super speed,” he then looked at Luka and Arashi, “and the ability to command electricity.”

The entire group looked at him, and he stared back at their confused, blinking faces. He pondered their bewilderment only for a split second. “I’m one hundred percent sure humans can't pull stunts like that… not without smoke and mirrors… not without a BOR Parasite.”

Soon after his brazen insinuation, Yakumo raised his arms above his head. He was looking worse for wear — and felt it too — as he stretched. Soon he excused himself to take a seat, asking the group for permission, of which they approved, before he plopped down on one of the couches.

Gemma, Kyoka, and Kasane endeavored to explain what psionic powers were. Something about hormones and most of the human population having brain powers and abilities, with only a scant few, known as “duds”, who had no such gifts. These duds, as Kyoka explained, were only one percent of the population. Yakumo recoiled at the word. “Th’as… harsh, don’t you think? Calling them duds?” He had since made himself quite comfy on the couch, sitting spread eagle with arms sprawled over the couch's back and legs laid out before him, boot heels firm to the floor. “From where I’m standing,” he continued, tone even and amiable, “you’re the anomalies.”

“But you’re sitting, silly,” Kagero interjected, to his own amusement.

“You know,” Yakumo went on, giving them a side eye, “back in my day humans couldn’t lift things with their minds or shoot electricity from their fingertips. That’s why us revenants were created…”

Louis hummed, once more lost in thought. “Perhaps you’ve been enhanced in some way? Much like how we revenants were implanted with the BOR Parasite?”

“What are you saying?” blurted Luka, looking as distressed as he sounded. “Are you implying that ALL humans were once duds? But that is absurd. Ninety-nine percent of the population has psionic powers to some varying degree. There’s no way… just no way.”

Louis apologized when he realized he'd ruffled some feathers. “It’s only speculation,” he assured. “There’s no way to know for sure… But perhaps humans evolved somehow.” He paused. “Ah, but there I go again. Please forgive me, Luka. It’s not my intent to upset you.”

“No, you didn’t… I am sorry. I reacted quite irrationally just now. I just don’t know how to feel about humanity having such humble beginnings. It may be too tough a truth for me to swallow.”

Luka still looked so distraught, and he hardly said a word after his outburst. The conversation between revenants and psionics drew on well into the dead of night. By the time they had worked out the kinks of what each was and where each likely stood in juxtaposition to the other, Yakumo had fallen asleep with his elbows draped over the back of the couch, his head hanging forward as his shoulders rose and fell in time with his light snore.

When Kagero noticed Tsugumi and Hanabi nodding off where they stood across from him, he yawned and pawed at his breath with one hand, then he raised the other over his head in one big back-popping stretch. As he dropped his arms to his sides, before crossing them over his chest again, he announced, “Man, I’m beat. We should call it a night,” while moving toward the enclave formed by the three couches around the coffee table. He sat on one of six available couch arms, crossing his arms and one leg over the other.

Everyone looked at him, their eyes worn. They had no arguments, only the desire to get some shuteye.

Louis carefully worked his way through the shuffling group as they dispersed. He went to wake Yakumo, but Kagero, of all people, told him to just let him sleep.

Louis was hesitant at first — which was expected — but withdrew after some thought. He thanked Kagero for his hospitality before asking if he wouldn't mind keeping an eye on his friend. Louis promised to return in the morning, then left.

While the others were getting ready for bed, Tsugumi was thoughtful enough to lay Yakumo down in a proper sleeping position, placing his hand and arm on his abdomen so his fingers didn’t dangle onto the floor. She was careful to not wake him.

Some bickering arose over who would sleep where after blankets and pillows were passed out. It didn't last long though thanks to Kyoka stepping in to quell it. Eventually, everyone settled down and fell into a deep drowse as quickly as their heads had hit the pillow. A steady drone of light snoring soon filled the room.

With the sun, Shiden rose. He clutched his head as he grumbled to life, uttering, “Ahh, I feel like I been hit by a truck,” as he winced and sat up and swung his legs over the ledge of the couch.

Eyes mapping a course for the kitchen, he stood to his feet. The goal in mind: quell his throbbing headache with a tall glass of refreshing water.

It just so happened though that a sleeping Yakumo came into Shiden's field of vision. He froze, his mind too groggy at first to notice the lanky, well-built frame on the couch closest to the kitchen. But when it finally registered, emotions — those typical of anyone with the name Shiden Ritter — flew, and all hell broke loose.

“Wh-WHAT IS THIS?!” Shiden screeched, waking those who were not yet up and about. He pointed finger at the sleeping red head. “Why the hell is HE here?!”

Yakumo, who was the last to stir to all the hollering, sat up and, since his back had been to the boy, twisted himself so that his groggy green eyes could meet those of incensed brown. “So, you’re finally awake,” he said, ever so casually, much to Shiden’s irritation. “Good to see I didn’t accidentally put you in a coma.” He adjusted himself, sitting up properly, feet flat on the ground while he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

Enraged with confusion, Shiden went to retort. It was foiled by Haruka and Wataru, however, who both dashed from the kitchen and dragged him away, returning whence they came, where they tried explaining the situation to him.

While the twins were wrapped up in that, Kyoka approached the revenant to ask if he’d slept well. She wore a friendly smile.

“I’ve had worse nights,” Yakumo answered in jest. He surveyed the room with a quick glance, making a lopsided expression with his lips once he was done. “Where’s Louis?”

“You were just so adorable, falling asleep on our couch and all, that we told him you could stay,” said Kagero, seemingly popping up out of nowhere. He stole a seat beside the revenant.

The door suddenly opened, alarming everyone in the shelter, commanding every presence as Fubuki entered the room. Luka and Gemma came from the workout area; just as well, the Frazer twins and Shiden, having put their conversation on pause after they'd heard the others stir, spilled in like a sloppy stew from the kitchen, shoulder to shoulder to shoulder and barely making it through the threshold.

Carrying himself with a particular gravitas, Fubuki scanned the faces entering the room. Lucky for him, everyone was present. This made his job a lot easier.

“Major General Fubuki,” said Yuito, somewhat surprised to see him, “what are you doing here?”

The major general was still examining the group when his eyes landed on the revenant. “I suspected as much,” he said, his stare lingering yet non-threatening.

Yakumo stood when he realized he was under the gun. “The name’s Shinonome,” he said.

Fubuki smiled, placing a hand on his hip, arm akimbo, as he extended the other. “Major General Fubuki.”

Wary, Yakumo's gaze fell to the man's hand. He then approached and offered his own. They shook with firm grips, eyes narrowed in sunless suspicion. Their display was enough to make even Gemma's hair stand on end.

His eyes slightly widened. “Woah… I’ve never seen the major general so tense before…” he stated, breaking out into a cold sweat.

“Can you really blame him?” Luka replied, his hackles raised just as well. “We are uncertain what they are truly capable of. They are not even human; they could be dangerous. I would wager they had been sealed away for an appropriate reason.”

Gemma was unsure of that. “Yeah, well. They’re different, sure. But they seem like decent guys. But…” He frowned, a self-doubting exhale leaving his nostrils as he mulled things over in his head again. “Then again, maybe I’m more senile than I thought, and I’m not reading them right.”

Fubuki and Yakumo were still sizing each other up, gazes intense, their grips growing firmer with every subsequent shake. The tension between them went on for about a minute more before both men released one another. The onlookers exhaled in relief once the tension dissipated.

Yakumo gave a leisure smile. “So, you’re a major general, huh? It’s an honor.”

“Well, I can sense you’re also quite the veteran. I’d imagine you’ve fought many more battles than I have.”

“Well, even in all my years of fighting, I haven’t gained a rank. Oh, and by the way, the name’s Yakumo.”

“Shinonome Yakumo, I assume?”

The revenant nodded.

“Right. I’m Fubuki Spring.” He offered his hand once more, and they shook for a second time — this one much friendlier that the first.

A sudden noise erupted from somewhere in the room during this dignified moment. It interrupted Yuito’s musings about how well the septentrion had handled the unknown, and grew in decibel every few seconds

Initially, no one could pinpoint the sound’s source, much less figure out what it was. But as it droned on, they eventually recognized it as one of Arashi’s famous groans — one reserved only for whenever her brother was present. Particularly whenever he had one task or another that likely involved her needing to work.

“Please, cut it with all the formal posh and pomp. What are you here for, Fubuki?” she complained while leaning back on her hands and staring up at him disapprovingly.

Fubuki turned to her. She still wore her nightclothes, her hair a mess. He smiled fondly at her. “Hello, Arashi, it’s good to see you’re back. I’m actually here with a mission for Yuito Platoon.”

“So, you’re not here to take us” — she wafted with a limp wrist at her fellow defectors in Kasane’s Platoon before plopping it back down in its prior place “— in for defecting or something like that?”

“As long as you don’t cause any trouble for Suoh. No.”

“Then get on with it. You’re cutting into my relaxation time.”

“But,” began Yuito, warily, “every day is your ‘relaxation time’.”

“EXACTLY!” Arashi practically exhaled. “You’re the only one who seems to get me, Yuito.”

The Sumeragi wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. He sighed.

“Well,” Fubuki said, seemingly speaking to no one in particular now, “the assignment is for Yuito Platoon. But since Kasane Platoon is here too —”

“Ugh! No. Nope. Don’t say it —”

“… you can help. We need every bit we can get.”

Arashi groaned, this one more obnoxious than the one prior. She fell flat on her back in some sad attempt at a tantrum. But all that came from it was a subdued whine, punctuated by an exhale of resignation.

Once the theatrics were over, Fubuki scanned the faces of Kasane’s group and Yakumo with a serious expression. “Please keep in mind, if they discover you, my hands are tied. Move discreetly.”

Kasane replied with a prompt affirmative.

Much to Arashi’s misery, Fubuki soon began issuing orders. She moaned the entire way through, criticizing her brother’s “workaholic” nature. But he didn’t seem to mind her commentary.

He was nearing the end of his directives when the door opened behind him.

Unfurling his arms, a broad smile overtaking his features, Yakumo said with as much cheek as a well-fed chipmunk before hibernation, “Well, about damn time, Louis. I almost thought you’d forgotten about your dear pal Yakumo.”

All eyes were now on the newcomer. As before, Fubuki stepped forward to offer a hand in introduction. It was the same song and dance as it had been with Yakumo, with Louis sizing up Fubuki and Fubuki sizing up Louis. And just like with Yakumo, Fubuki determined Louis a non-threat, and they shook a second time — and Arashi complained a second time.

“So, do you understand the mission?” asked Fubuki once he and the revenant had finished shaking hands.

“Yeah,” Yuito answered, “we have to slay some Others around the construction site in Mizuhagawa, right?”

“Yes. In addition, there’s a particularly strong Other there too. Though it hasn’t killed any of our OSF yet, it’s still to be treated like a Major Other. It’s highly resilient. So, be on your guard out there. If things get too tough, fall back.”

Louis stepped up.“Maybe I can help,” he offered his services, in hope of kindling some trust between them.

Fubuki gladly welcomed the extra hands on deck. Words of departure followed, and the major general made his exit. He left the team assembly to Yuito and Kasane.

Rather than shadow Louis and the psionics, Yakumo wanted to hang back. He said he would have been more than happy to go if not for the fact that he was feeling a little “off”. As if reading his mind, Louis tossed him a blood bead before departing with the party.

Swift and dexterous as they come, Yakumo caught it with his left hand. An impressive feat, given his lax posture. “Thanks, I owe you one,” he said, drawing the bead to his lips.

Louis only nodded to him on the way out the door.

Only Kagero and the twins remained behind, and they all soon gathered around Yakumo with curious gazes as he downed his meal. Haruka looked as if she would explode with a million questions at once, and Wataru contemplated an interview, debating how he'd present the revenant to his followers. Kagero was just content being curious and nothing more.

Chapter Text

The group descended some stairs in silence as they made their way to the construction site below. The remnants of late morning still clung to the rainbow-colored sky, refractions of light breaking through visions of dilapidated houses, buildings, and skyscrapers — a world upside down and tattered like forgotten, forlorn memories.

It did not take long for Yuito to notice how his teammates kept distant from Louis; Luka seemed especially distressed, his narrow gaze continually darting to Louis’ form. And Kasane kept a close eye on the revenant just as well.

I kind of feel bad for him, Yuito thought. Empathy drew his gaze to the revenant. Maybe I should try talking to him.

He quickened his pace, the metal stairs clanking beneath his shoes, and slowed to a friendly cadence at Louis’ side. But he soon found himself faced with an additional problem…

What do I say to him? Yuito kicked himself for not having thought this through. Do I comment on his clothes? They were pretty retro, from what he gathered. Should I compliment his weapon? No, that's too forced.

Yuito’s eyes flitted about Louis, in search of a conversation starter, anything, until they finally came to rest on the revenant’s mask. It was a strange mask, ostensibly both biological and inanimate in description. It almost looked like an extension of Louis’ self — much like how psionics’ powers are ingrained in their DNA.

“Is there something on your mind?” asked Louis as they made their roundabout at a halfway point, descending a second set of stairs that turned a sharp left from the first.

The suddenness of the question startled Yuito since Louis remained facing forward. “No,” answered the young man, awkwardly. “Actually, about that mask you’re wearing. What’s it for?”

Louis closed his eyes for a moment, and for some reason, Yuito waited with bated breath. “It’s a purifier mask. It protects us revenants from the miasma, a byproduct of the Lost.”

“And… what are the Lost, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“They are…” Louis paused, only further piquing the boy’s interest.

“You don’t need to tell me if you’re not comfortable. I was just curious,” Yuito said after a minute of silence. He fought against that innately human urge to know the unknown.

“I am sorry.” Louis’ hand curled into a fist, its trembling going unnoticed by the boy. “There are things you deserve to know about us — things that may… shock you. But only when the time is right. As things stand at present, I fear your friends would not be so tolerant of us if they knew.”

He had a point. “Okay,” Yuito said, simply. He failed to hide the quaver in his voice.

They reached the bottom of the steps soon enough. And as quickly as they had, Louis drew his sword. “We’re not alone,” he said. His eyes scoured the open field littered with abandoned equipment, excavators, construction rollers, and the like.

“Others!” Wataru warned.

They oozed and stumbled out of hiding

By the time the psionics brandished their weapons, Louis had already answered the challenge. He dashed forward, leaving his onlookers wonderstruck, and gracefully danced. The crimson of his edge glinted in flashes and flurries, humming its anthem against the still air as the Others fell one by one to its sharp sting until none were left.

“Hmph! Show off…” Shiden grumbled, arms crossed.

“There’s no denying his ability,” said Gemma, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

“As long as I don’t have to lift a finger.” Arashi shrugged and shook her head. She wore her widest grin yet.

The group moved on. They slowly marched toward a yawning expanse. There, a thick tension suddenly emerged, seemingly proliferating like a fast-growing cancer, ushering Yuito’s eyes to Kasane. But before he could do or say anything, Kasane cast Louis a suspicious glance and said, “So, you’re aiming to gain our trust.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“If possible,” Louis answered.

The group came to a halt, the revenant and the pragmatic psionic faced one another, and poor Yuito was powerless to stop what next followed.

“Why? What benefit do you gain?” Kasane placed an emphatic hand on her hip.

Yuito felt he had to at least say something. Things were likely to go awry if he didn’t. “Kasane, we need to focus on the mission.” But it was no good.

“Well?” Kasane’s eyes narrowed, seeming as if they could set the revenant ablaze with a single stray flicker.

Louis answered as cool-headed as before, “Acceptance.”

It was an answer that made Kasane scoff. Her lips formed a thin line. “Acceptance? If that’s really the case, then there’s something you’re not telling us.”

Louis’ silence spoke a thousand words.

“Kasane, as your acting commander, I —” began Yuito, only to be immediately interrupted.

“Don’t tell me you trust them, Yuito,” Kasane said to him.

“Well… I…”

Feeling as if he, too, could no longer remain silent, Luka stepped forward, looking rather perturbed. “I am sorry, Yuito. But I have to agree with Kasane. We have no reason to trust that their intentions are good.”

Their growing discourse seemed to stir those in the group who had yet to speak. They gave a medley of sounds, ranging from ambivalent hums to nervous throat clears.

“Wait… So, is this how everyone feels?” asked Yuito, his wide eyes looking over a collection of faces, each bearing some measure of discomfort.

Kyoka smiled. Though it did fail to reach her ears. “Umm… Well…”

Yuito found himself at a loss for words.

“There is something you’re not telling us,” Luka boldly stated, glaring daggers at Louis.

“There is,” Louis responded, truthfully.

“Of course. There most certainly is,” Luka practically spat back. His eyes had narrowed so much that he now looked like a snarling animal, nose crinkled at the ridge.

Kasane crossed her arms. “Out with it then.”

Just as Yuito had guessed, things were getting out of hand. The scenario unfolding before him became much too painful to watch. But he was clearly in the minority, and there was nothing he could say or do about it, even as the acting commander.

Finally, after a passing of silent consternation, Louis responded. “If I were to tell you, would I then gain your trust?”

“Of course not.”

“Why would we? It is obvious there is more to you than you are revealing.”

“You’re right…” Louis replied to both Kasane and Luka.

It was baffling to Yuito how the revenant could be so unruffled by their accusations. I guess, if he got defensive, it would prove their point, he rationalized.

“But please,” Louis continued, much to Yuito’s surprise, “I understand your anxieties. I, too, share them. We revenants did not choose this life.

“There is so much uncertainty surrounding the possibility of reintegration. The margin for error is immense. There’s no guarantee it’s feasible.

“But my wish remains for revenants to have a place in this world outside the Gaol. And for that to have any hope of success, there are things that cannot be said at present. Just know, in due time, you shall have the truth you seek. That I promise.”

The silence after was deafening. Kasane seemed to consider his words. She had her brow tightly knit. Luke, contrary to her, balled his fists and made ready a sharp reply, but Gemma suddenly spoke.

“Hey, I realized there are no Others around here.” Gemma’s head swiveled from right to left, his brow cocked in confusion.

Arashi gave the area a once over as well, craning her neck this way and that and all around before declaring, “Gemma’s got a point. Usually, they’re swarming us by now.”

All eyes now fell on Yuito. Well, this was a quick change of events. He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, really feeling the pressure. “Well, maybe we should look around,” he answered their unspoken queries.

“Why not contact Wataru or Haruka.” Kasane suggested.

And not a moment too late did Haruka chime in. “You rang?” she asked, bubbly as ever.

“Yeah,” Yuito answered. “What information do we have on the Others around here?”

“Huh? What do you mean? They’re the same Others that always spawn in Mizuhagawa.”

“No no no. Not that…” He paused. “What about the Major Other Major General Fubuki had mentioned? Do we have any information on that?”

Haruka put him on hold. She returned with the information he needed. “Okay, it’s a sturdy one — defense unknown, above ten likely.”

“Above ten?” This made Yuito nervous.

“Yeah. According to the reports, it looks like your run-of-the-mill Other. But members of the OSF haven’t been able to put it down. Not only that, its behavior is ‘erratic’.”

“What do you mean?”

Haruka hummed to herself, tapped her upper lip with a forefinger before speaking. “The report said something about attacking indiscriminately.”

“Okay… So what does that mean?”

“It means… I guess it means the Other is more concerned with attacking anything that moves instead of eating brains.”

“That’s impossible,” Kasane jumped in.

“Well, that’s the vibe I get from the reports. They were so vague. Not much more I can tell you.” And with that, Haruka was out.

Yuito sighed, deflated.

“Who were you talking to just now?” asked Louis, looking equal parts curious and concerned.

“Oh… Right. Haruka and Wataru use telepathy. We were just asking for information on the Major Other.”

Louis nodded, thumb and forefinger drawn under his chin. He looked the psionic over with a quizzical gaze. It was such a gaze that made Yuito feel insecure — he couldn’t help it. He felt three sizes smaller. “Well… Anyway… We should sweep the area. See if we can find that Other.” His stare shifted to nowhere in particular.

And sweep the area they did — back and forth, to and fro. They decided against splitting up, though Shiden was heedlessly insistent that they should. Thankfully, Kasane set him right. She had a way of working with the most temperamental member of their group that made Yuito, if he were being frank, a tad bit jealous. Shiden folded under her straightforward, monotone, terse delivery like a jerry-built chair under the weight of a fat kid eating cake. He was a stuttering mess and failed to gain the last word because of it.

They came to another gaping area after wending through a liminal space, like a narrow capillary made from construction fence and leftover equipment dusted with neglect. There were even more abandoned vehicles and boxes and tools in this area. There was also an Other thrashing wildly about, slaying its own brethren as if it had gone mad.

The Others were blissfully unaware of their slaughter, haplessly flitting or oozing about until they met their end by the tramp or sting of the rampaging Other.

“Is… that the Major Other?” asked Yuito, hesitantly.

“Sure looks like it,” answered Wataru, his voice reaching only Yuito.

“But… it’s just a normal Auger Sabbat…”

“Fits the description.” And Wataru was gone.

“So, is that our Other?” Gemma asked, his body simultaneously slack and tense, as if he were undecided on his fighting stance.

“Looks like it. Or so Wataru says, anyway,” Yuito confirmed.

Luka stepped forward, rounding Yuito’s side to look up at him, his expression serious. “But it is no different than your typical Other,” he said.

Tell me about it, Yuito thought as he drew a deep breath and exhaled through his nose.

It was Kasane who replied to Luka. “It’s acting erratically. So, that’s our target. We suppress it. We draw up a report. We turn it in.” Matter of fact, as always.

“I wouldn’t count on it being so easy,” Louis opined. He had been silent until that point since becoming a target for their piling suspicions; the group had believed him mute indefinitely.

Shiden didn’t take kindly to his statement. He curled his fingers into a fist and brandished it. “And who asked you, huh?” He grit his teeth. “I bet I can handle that Other ALL ON MY OWN!”

“Don’t be reckless,” Kasane said. Her delivery was soporific.

Shiden swung his arm as if to swat her warning away. “What? You don’t think I can?”

“Shiden! WAIT!” Yuito called after him, lunging forward to grasp the hasty frame rushing headlong where angels fear to tread. But it was too late.

Drawing a hand to her mouth, Hanabi gasped. “We need to go after him!” she declared before recklessly rushing off just as well.

Eyes glinting with a red light, Louis dashed forward, moving so quickly and so suddenly that he whisked up a cloud of dust in the psionics’ faces. They were left gaping in the gritty plume. Arashi, however, raised and dropped a lazy shoulder. “Eh, I’m still faster,” she confidently claimed.

Before Hanabi could get any farther, Louis grasped her by the back of her hood and hauled. She shrieked as she flew through the air and into Gemma's arms.

By this time, Shiden had already engaged the Other in combat, sending stringy, outstretched electricity from his baton. This crackling plasma seemed to engulf the Major Other, but it did not affect it. It was almost as if the creature were proofed against such attacks.

The Auger Sabbat had slain the final Other in the area — it was a poor ignorant Scummy Pool — when it directed its attention to Shiden and charged on.

Danger was afoot; Shiden just didn’t realize. The gap quickly closed between him and his opponent. And if it weren’t for him being grabbed and pulled aside, he would have been trampled into paste.

Shiden picked himself up after tumbling with Louis. His clothes were now covered in dirt and dust. “I don’t need your help!” He yelled, his face contorting into this ugly scowl.

“It’s not about needing my help,” Louis returned, calmly yet assertively. “Pay attention to its movements.” He looked at the Other, and Shiden did too.

It still had yet to swerve back around after coming to a halt. Its back remained to them. Whenever its legs or head moved, they did so with a strange flounce. One jerk punctuated by many more, making it seem almost mechanical, like a marionette under the command of a puppet master.

The cavalry soon arrived, finally catching up to the two. “Are you all right?” asked Yuito while looking over Shiden and Louis.

Louis nodded. Shiden pointed his baton. “Look at how it moves,” he demanded.

Naturally, everyone looked. The Other was turning around, its movements rigid as if fighting against the will of some outside force. It charged again once it had fully turned around and left the group with little time to contemplate its strange movements as they dove out of the way.

Immediately after righting herself, Kasane threw her hand to the side, grasping a nearby box with a purplish glow of fragmented energy, and thrust her hand forward, sending the box flying at the galloping creature. The box splintered on contact with a loud crack. It didn’t so much as cause the Auger Sabbat to twitch.

They jumped to avoid its next attack, some of them scuffing their knees as they rolled into a well-timed landing. With yet another opening, that the Other had given them while it grappled with its movements, Kyoka aimed her crossbow and fired at the thrashing beast as it swung around for another charge. Her arrows seemed to bounce right of its dense hide. A few of them even split in half on contact.

They were forced to dodge once more.

Next, Yuito followed up with a reprisal, a stroke of his katana. But he was met with a strong resistance that not only repelled his blade, but also sent a shock wave of rippling pain into his hand, up his wrist and arm, and into his shoulder blade. He grimaced, losing his grasp on his sword, and leaped back to put some distance between himself and the enemy.

“It’s tough,” he said, gripping his aching arm. Only once the buzzing agony had subsided did he recall his weapon back to him.

“It’s like it’s surrounded by some kind of barrier,” Kyoka observed.

Her statement engendered Tsugumi to activate clairvoyance. Tsugumi could see a strange purplish — maybe pinkish? — casing around the Auger Sabbat, and there was some sort of line, like a pulsing energy, that seemed to disappear into thin air.

The group was confounded by her findings. Yuito had to borrow her power through SAS just to confirm it for himself.

Unbelievable.

There wasn't any other choice but to fall back. They had no idea what they were truly up against. But just when Yuito was about to issue their retreat, Shiden’s panicked voice suddenly yelled, “S-something’s got me!”

And they all whipped their heads to him. It almost looked as if he were being blown away by a big, non-existent gust of wind. His right leg dangled in the air as his upper half dragged across the ground. He was desperately grasping at the dirt, failing to find purchase, as the others watched on in abject horror. Then Hanabi screamed.

She, too, had been dragged some few feet away but was fortunate enough to latch onto a nearby vehicle. “Someone help!” she cried.

There was no time for questions. The group sprang into action, grabbing Hanabi and starting the most daunting game of tug-of-war ever played. Likewise, Louis and Gemma rushed to Shiden’s aid.

Yuito grunted, using all his strength just to keep on his feet. “What’s pulling them?”

“I don’t know. I can't see it,” Tsugumi answered. Her voice quivered as if she were seconds from crying.

“Even with clairvoyance?” asked Gemma, nearly having his arm ripped from his socket when Shiden was yanked in the opposite direction.

“ARGH! You’re gonna rip me in half!” Shiden whined.

“S-sorry… Sorry.” Gemma’s hold on Shiden’s forearm was slipping as a burning ache sprawled throughout his shoulder. “I’m really starting to feel my age… I don’t think I can keep this up for much longer.”

“NOW’S NOT THE TIME TO BE THINKING ABOUT RETIREMENT!” Shiden’s immediate rejoin came with incredulous, wide eyes and an exasperated gasp.

Even with Gemma tugging at one arm and Louis pulling the other, they were losing ground, their sturdy forms being dragged right along with Shiden. Luka, Kyoka, Kasane, Yuito, Arashi, and Tsugumi weren’t fairing any better either. Hanabi had since lost her hold on the track tread she had been holding onto for dear life. The group then spilled over itself.

Yuito felt so helpless. He’d never felt so useless. And he certainly wasn’t the only one, if the doubt written on each weary, teeth-gnashing face was proof enough.

One by one, they righted themselves. Luka was the first, followed by Kyoka, then Tsugumi when she no longer had their weight pinning her down, and so on. Yuito was last to stand, and he pulled hard on Hanabi’s wrist once upright and firmly rooted. His nails bore into her skin and drew beads of blood from where they nicked her.

Only after a longstanding uncertainty and much dread did they all fall flat on their backs.

“Oof!” Hanabi flew forward and head butted Yuito in the chest.

Could they have emerged victorious? Or had the invisible entities lost interest? There was no time for such questions. The group wasted none to rub their hineys or backs or whatever unfortunate body part they had fallen on. They instead scrambled to their feet, untangling their knotted limbs, and scurried away, leaving the thrashing wild Auger Sabbat and unknown invisible forces behind.

“What… attacked… us?” asked Hanabi, gasping, doubled over with hands on her knees.

“I don’t know…” huffed Tsugumi, just as breathless.

“An enemy that can’t be seen with clairvoyance is concerning.” Gemma scrunched his brow, then placed a hand on his hip. He, along with a select few, seemed unaffected by the long-distance sprint he'd just endured.

Meanwhile, Arashi looked like death. She lay flat on her back, chest heaving, and she gulped down air as if it were room temperature soda. She groaned, “Man, I swear I’m never running without hypervelocity again. I feel like I just leg pressed the entire world.”

“Well, a little exercise every once in a while would —”

“Don’t — ooo whoo hah — finish that sentence,” she warned Gemma.

Seeing that the group still had enough spirit to make silly banter, Yuito couldn't help but smile. At least they were doing better than he was, anyway.

“Perhaps we should return to base and reassess the situation,” began Louis. “It could prove —” But an embittered Luka interrupted him.

“How can we trust that this is not YOUR doing?”

Louis stared at him in utter shock.

“Hold on, Luka. ” Yuito stepped forward. “We don’t know that for sure.”

“No, Yuito. I have withheld my misgivings long enough.” His disdainful eyes narrowed on Louis. “They appear out of nowhere, want our trust… then we are attacked by… by… something even Tsugumi cannot perceive. These revenants, or whatever they are, are dangerous.”

“Luka,” Kasane spoke now, her voice having a certain weight to it that told him to calm down. “Just what are you implying?”

“Certainly, he must have coordinated that attack.”

“But that’s completely asinine. You’re jumping to baseless assumptions,” Shiden argued, much to everyone’s surprise.

Yuito looked up but could find no flying pigs.

“So, what? You trust him too?” Luka’s glare now came to rest on Shiden. Only, it was now filled with hurt.

“Na… No! It’s just that… he helped me, that’s all. Not that I needed it.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I have to agree with Shiden.”

“YOU TOO, KASANE?!” Luka’s disbelief practically bowled him over.

“I’m not saying I trust them.” Her gaze briefly darted to the revenant. “But I am saying he had nothing to do with that attack.”

“Then what? Am I the only one?”

Yuito followed up. “Are you the ‘only one’ what?” He genuinely wanted to know.

The question, however innocuous, caused Luka to grimace, and his body, having been on edge for so long, went slack. “It is nothing…” He cast his gaze down.

That was the end of that. Still, Yuito felt awful for Luka. He figured he could talk with him later, maybe try to understand the septentrion’s feelings. For now, though, contacting Wataru was top priority.

“Oh, hello, Haruka,” Yuito said when Wataru failed to answer. “Where’s Wataru?” he asked with no small amount of concern.

“Oh, he’s playing a game with Kagero right now.”

“A… game?”

“Yeah. A REAL handheld antique, like the ones before visions!”

“Oh… Umm. Okay. Anyway, we, uh, finished our mission.”

Haruka hummed to herself. She seemed a little confounded. “You don’t sound too confident.”

“Because I’m not… There weren’t many Others around. That Major Other —”

“Was going on a complete rampage!” Shiden butted in, sounding hysterical. “And not just that, there’s something else here.”

“Something else?” Haruka became alert.

“Yeah,” Yuito hesitantly responded. “Something tried dragging Hanabi and Shiden away.”

“Were you able to identify it using clairvoyance?”

Yuito withdrew in his unease. “No… We couldn’t see anything.”

It was news that caused Haruka to draw her hand to her gaping mouth. “You need to get out of there now. I’ll relay your report to OSF Headquarters.” She paused, likely running things over in her head. “There’s… something strange about all this.”

Yuito nodded in agreement. “Yeah. We’ll see you when we get back.”

“Be careful out there.”

“We will.”

From on high, standing on a cliff above the abandoned construction site and the land basin, its domicile, Karen watched. His stony gaze flitted about the group, mostly returning to Yuito and Kasane, before settling on the revenant. With an imperious grunt, he continued looking down on the group like a divine arbiter sent from above. A communication device clipped to his ear began to buzz. He answered.

“Did you place it?”

“Of course. Although there were some complications.”

“That is to be expected. But you are doing angelic work.”

“I don’t need your condescending self-righteousness.”

“I only mean to say that you’re doing humanity — your species — a great service, Karen. You and I both want the same thing, correct? There’s no reason for hostility.”

Karen scoffed, his face becoming one big scowl.

“And what of the Ones with Fate’s Will?”

“They’re unharmed if that’s what you’re asking. I would have stepped in if things got out of hand… You already know this…”

“Good. Very good. All is according to plan.”

“And don’t forget your part of the deal, old man. I’m doing my job; you do yours.”

“But of course. All in due time, my fellow man. You will have your Alice returned to you and the world will be restored to original order. Humanity's salvation is nigh.”

Karen nearly rolled his eyes. He couldn’t tolerate the old man, much less stand his vain sermons.

Without warning, he disconnected the call. A somber expression flashed across his face after. “Just keep your word…”

Chapter Text

Yuito approached Hanabi. He had since made his report to the major general and still felt a bit out of place after that conversation. Being part of the OSF required that he keep too many secrets — first with Naomi metamorphosing into an Other and now with the strange happenings that he and his platoon had experienced (firsthand) in Mizuhagawa. The reports regarding the “erratic” Other and the newer “invisible forces” had since been classified and nobody, not even the major general, was able to view them. Authorized personnel only. All which was certainly beginning to erode at Yuito’s psyche.

“Hey, Hanabi. Are your injuries doing any better?” he asked, while studying her wrists. They were covered in bandages.

Hanabi startled and rushed to hide her arms behind her back. “Y-yes. They’re only minor scratches. Nothing major.” A rueful expression crossed her features, as if she were responsible for how Yuito currently felt.

“Are you sure? I got you pretty bad with my nails.”

“N-no, Yuito. Please don’t apologize,” she said when he made to ask for forgiveness. “You saved me.”

Yuito still looked rather doubtful.

“Really, Yuito. If it weren’t for you and everyone else rushing in to save me, I don’t know what would have happened. So, thank you. I really mean it.”

A smile now drew across the boy's downcast face. “Thanks, Hanabi. I really needed to hear that.”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Concern wrinkled at her brow.

If only she knew the half of it. Sure, he was new to the role of leadership, and he still had lots to learn. But he couldn't get past the beleaguering feeling that he wasn’t all that cut out for it. He lost control of the situation in Mizuhagawa multiple times. His teammates steamrolled his authority as acting commander and, more often than not, it was Kasane who took control of the reins. Of course, he told Hanabi quite the opposite. He made the prudent decision to not burden her with his troubles.

Anyway, Hanabi seemed to accept his answer and even expressed relief, much to Yuito’s own. Now if only the forthcoming talk with Luka could go just as smoothly. But Yuito dared not hold his breath, especially given how distant the boyish-looking man had been — toward everyone — ever since returning to the hideout. With the revenants now gone, he hoped that Luka would drop his guard some.

“What do you want?” Luka spat mid-rep.

Immediately taken aback by his tone, Yuito blinked, staring wide-eyed and tongue tied at the septentrion before finding a response. “I just came to see if you were okay.”

“As you can see,” he paused, mid-rep, to grunt loudly, “I am doing just fine.”

“Well… you don’t seem fine to me.”

Luka did not reply, just began counting his reps aloud. “Fifty-eight… sixty… Sixty-six…” He went on like that for some time. Then Yuito worked up the courage to speak again.

“You haven’t said a word to anyone since we got back —” He jumped and screwed his eyes shut at the loud clank of Luka setting down his weight onto the barbell rack — two long erect metallic arms on either side of the septentrion.

Luka then sat up and reached for his water bottle. He took three long gulps before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Then his victimized green and red gaze met Yuito’s. “There’s nothing to talk about…”

“But… Luka…”

“No one seems to recognize the danger we are putting ourselves in by allowing those two to free roam in our affairs.”

“You mean Louis and Yakumo?”

“Who else would I mean?” Luka paused, wincing at the harshness of his own voice. “I'm sorry, Yuito. Forgive me for getting so riled up.”

“It’s all right, Luka. I think I understand.”

“No. You don’t understand. They unsettle me, Yuito. Whenever I look at them, I feel shaken, for the lack of a finer term.”

“Is it because they’re… um… not human?”

Luka’s features were now twisted up in what could only be described as a result of inner turmoil. Kagero could be heard horsing around in the other room, Shiden nipping at his heels, as always, as a result. Tsugumi chimed in every so often, making one cold quip or another, to which Kagero would say, “Ouch, Tsugumi. You know words can really hurt” or “How could you say such a thing to your dearest and most dependable friend, the one and only Kagero?” Nobody was impressed with Kagero but himself, and he swore up and down that his new “best pal” at least gets him. To that, Tsugumi responded: “Don’t drag others down to your level, Kagero.”

Finally, Luka relented. His gaze became one of confusion and moroseness. “I don’t know,” he strained himself just to say. “I am not particularly uneasy because of what they are. And yet, when I think about them, I feel something inexplicable…”

“What do you mean?”

Luka grunted, just one breathy huff. It was weak, barely audible. “I do not wish to continue this conversation.”

“Oh. Okay. Umm.” Yuito cleared his throat, now feeling awkward in his own skin. “Well, just let me know when you do want to talk.”

Luka said nothing.

The shelter door opened.

“Are you going out, Kasane?” asked Gemma, not missing a beat.

Kasane’s form, standing in the door frame, had the attention of every eye in the room. Yet she did not meet them. “I am.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” And she left.

Gemma scratched his head. “Fair enough.”

Kasane traveled far from the hideout, far from civilization, to it — her destination. The Supernatural Life Research Facility. In due course, the building, grand yet unassuming in that oh so peculiar sort of way, came into view.

Suddenly, she paused before just as suddenly swinging around and nearly crushing her stalker with a nearby six-ton military vehicle.

“Ahh! Wait, it’s me!”

The vehicle came to a dead stop, just inches from Shiden’s head. He unfurled his arms from his crown when he realized he wasn't dead and gave Kasane a proper earful after. Something about “you could have killed me!” or some such.

Kasane soon relaxed. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, while setting the vehicle down gently beside him, with purple humming energy.

“What do you mean ‘oh it’s you’?”

Kasane ignored his question and instead, with narrowed eyes, demanded to know what he was doing. To which Shiden replied with, “You were being secretive. I thought it was shady. So, I followed you.”

“Is that so?” Her gaze narrowed further — two interrogative slits.

“Yeah. That is so. And what are you going to do about it?”

Now crossing her arms, Kasane said, “Nothing.” Simple as that.

Her tone, words, and the demeanor used to deliver them seemed to throw Shiden for a loop. He stammered and sputtered for a time, inevitably falling back on idiosyncratic habits. “Is that ALL you have to say? What, are you looking down on me or something? I could have easily taken you out while you had your back turned, you know!”

“Is that a threat?”

Shiden blanched. “Of course not! I’m just saying —”

Clap clap! A sharp noise, one often made by a doting owner or parent reprimanding their dog or bickering children, caught the duo’s attention. They looked. And who did they see but none other than Kyoka Eden. “Now now. That’s enough,” she said.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I followed you. I had to make sure you weren’t trying to pick a fight with Kasane.”

Once more a sputtering and stammering mess, Shiden struggled to find a fitting rebuttal to this insinuation, and accusation… But all he managed was: “Why am I the one being singled out?!”

Kasane placed a hand on her hip, and the same glare she’d been given Shiden, she gave Kyoka.

“I’m assuming you came out here all on your lonesome to visit your sister,” Kyoka said. Her voice remained soft; her gaze intensified.

Kasane said nothing, of course, because Kyoka wasn’t wrong. Kyoka played the part of the group’s mother quite well, if Gemma was the really old, but actually not that old, uncle in search of, but not actually in search of, his second wind. She was just worried; Kasane knew that. So, she dropped her guard. Thus began Kyoka’s lecture:

“You shouldn’t be out here without someone backing you up. You could have been killed by an Other or detained by Seiran or Suoh. What were you thinking, Kasane?”

A red gaze drifted downward, and a well-contained sorrow hid behind the windows of the soul. “I just wanted to see her…” Kasane said, half apologetic and half combative. It’s all I ever want…

With features softening at the girl’s admittance, Kyoka approached her to take her up into a big motherly embrace. “Awww. Kasane.” She rubbed the girl’s back. Her eyes were practically watering. She sniffled. “I understand how you feel. We all miss Naomi. But we all can’t just do as we please just because we feel upset.”

“But,” began Shiden, “we’ve already come this far, so… why not just visit her?”

Now clapping her hands together, Kyoka gasped. She smiled at the boy. “That’s a great idea, Shiden. How very thoughtful of you.”

He flustered at her words in the only way he knew how.

At the entrance of the Supernatural Life Research Facility, a familiar guarded gaze greeted Kasane. A grunt drew itself from deep within the back of Karen’s throat. It was as if he had been expecting her and she showed up right on time. Shiden and Kyoka balked at his presence.

“Bold of you. Moving around so freely after defecting from Seiran.”

Shiden lurched forward at the man’s words, hasty to make his retort — perhaps something about how Karen had defected first from Suoh. But Kasane stopped him, much to his consternation and frustration.

“I’m assuming you’ll be wanting something in return if we ask you to let us go.” Kyoka grew serious.

“I might.”

“What do you want?” Kasane inquired, just as severe as Kyoka.

Their willingness to bargain had Karen nearly cracking a smile. But he instead offered a musing hum while unfurling his arms from over his chest. There was something about the look in his eye that gave Kasane the vivid belief that she and her company were somehow an integral and unwitting part of some conspicuous game — one that Karen was winning, if his smug look was any indication. It troubled her.

Shiden, irked by the man's smugness, almost lurched forward a second time but thankfully stayed himself. Kasane just hoped he could keep it together for just a bit longer.

“Information. You’re no good to me otherwise,” Karen said in answer.

Now Shiden reeled forward. “What was that?!”

Although not without empathy, the two women admonished him. He was forced to rein himself in once more.

Without fight or dissent, Kasane accepted Karen’s condition. It was only one, after all. “So, you want me to act as a double agent.”

“Triple agent.” As serious as serious comes, Karen hadn’t meant to shock. Yet all the same Kasane stared at him with her mouth agape.

Kyoka and Shiden stood just shy of earshot; Karen's demand.

There just wasn’t any reading this man. Karen's goals and motives remained unknowns as he walked under the shadow of an enigma. It must get exhausting, Kasane tried convincing herself. There was no way someone could be as cunning, conniving, and masterful as Karen and not suffer the psychological, as well as physiological, consequences of it. He was truly a force to be reckoned with, and Kasane believed it best to avoid confrontation with him, at any possible cost.

“So be it.” She sounded cooler and more collected than what she let on.

“Great. I look forward to hearing about your new friends some other time. Give Naomi my regards in the meantime.”

Kasane was left to stew in suspicion and conspiracy.

Silent as night, a room dressed in red — red curtains and carpet — housed a sleeping creature of hideous proportions. In its dreams, the creature writhed, contorting at the imaginings of feasting upon the brains of the innocent. It was a black-as-night nightmare, a barbaric function of the body but not at all a desire of the mind. The Other raised its two heads, which rested upon the shingles of a shrine-shaped structure with a singular chair in its middle— purple flowers rested at the feet of this chair — when the door creaked open.

The creature arose; it walked on its elbows like a tortured fiend from the very bowels of Hell and its legs curled around the back of its body, similar to those of a cricket or locust, bent in such a way that it looked as if its legs could snap at any time, allowing the creature to walk on its toes. Its very existence was one of pitiable ugliness and excruciating misery; yet she freely laughed when Kasane entered the room.

“I’m so glad to see you!” She was very mindful, moving with a carefulness fitting of one her size in a conscious effort to not injure her much smaller guest.

“Naomi, I needed to visit you.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” She cocked her two heads to the side, her beard of leaves rustling and one of her branch-like antlers almost scraping against the floor.

“It’s nothing. Why not tell me how you’re doing. Are they still treating you well? Have they done anything to hurt you?”

Naomi made a motion. It was merely a side-to-side tremor that Kasane knew to be the shaking of her morphed head. “They treat me very well here, and they make sure I’m comfortable.”

“And how about feeding? Are you… eating?”

A very touchy subject this was. Naomi said nothing for a time, her two heads ostensibly staring off into space, lacking a gaze and soul — but still, Kasane knew Naomi to be in there. “I am,” Naomi eventually said, though not without great effort. “It’s difficult sometimes, and I can’t help but be disgusted with myself whenever I… feed... I feel like I'm some kind of wild animal without a conscience.”

“You need it to survive. Try not to think about it so much,” Kasane said with an assuring smile.

“I know… Besides, if I don’t eat, I lose control. And when I lose control, I could hurt someone. Still… sometimes I do think about where my food supply comes from. I like to believe they're fresh from the morgue. That helps me sleep better at night.” She grew somber.

Naomi was such a kindhearted soul that this body of a brain-eating, ravenous, murderous creature did not at all suit her. It was such a discordance that created an indescribably vulgar paradox that broke every natural law and order under Heaven, on Earth, and in Hell, resulting in a singular calloused truth; the truth being: that life was an unwarranted injustice thrust upon all those who dared to be born.

A knock at the door, frantic and vigorous, alerted the psionic and the Other. “Hey in there! We got company!” they heard Shiden say.

“Kasane, someone is approaching. They haven’t spotted us yet. You need to hurry,” Kyoka now said.

“Oh crap… oh crap… oh crap oh crap… OH CRAP!”

The sound of feet scurrying this way and that lured Kasane to the door, though she took a moment to pause and look back at her sister to say goodbye. This was to her detriment.

She could hear two doors outside being opened and slammed shut. Likely, Shiden and Kyoka each took to hiding. Hopefully, they didn’t find themselves brainless after…

An even cadence of a singular pair of footsteps replaced the earlier sound of feet scurrying. It drummed on — Clop clop clop Clop CLop CLOp CLOP — drawing nearer to the door and closer to discovering Kasane.

“Quick! Hide behind that piano!” Naomi urged in a tone just a decibel over a hiss.

Kasane dashed to the grand piano, grinding to a halt at its side before ducking behind its black body. She tried making herself as inconspicuous as possible when the door finally opened.

In walked a pair of legs; it was all she could see from where she knelt. The legs wore brown window-plane plaid pants and black dress shoes and moved with sure aplomb.

“Hello. You’re doing well today, I hope?” the man inquired.

Kasane tried peering from behind the piano but couldn’t do so without risk of being sighted. But at least she could see his hands. They were placed behind his back. Not that it did her any good.

“Oh, hello. You’re back.” Naomi lay down, her hands coming to rest on either side of the shrine of her head.

“I am. I was hoping to get another blood sample; if that’s all well and fine with you, dearest Naomi.”

“Oh. Of course. Anything to help cure metamorphosing.”

She wasn’t sure how she missed it before — probably due to his hands being balled up until now — but Kasane espied a syringe glinting in the man’s grip as he brought it forward and uncapped the needle to draw the Other’s blood.

Kasane could just about see his face, but all she got was a glimpse of some gray facial hair, and not enough of it to actually tell the shape of his jaw so she could discern his facial features. From his voice alone, she could tell he was a much older gentleman. She wondered what his affiliation was to Seiran, — what his affiliation was to the Supernatural Life Research Facility.

The man disappeared in a sudden flash of blue light when Kasane had blinked. It was like a flash grenade and left her eyes blinded with irritation. She rubbed their irritation away and shot straight up and rushed around the piano when she realized the man was gone. “Wha… Where did he go?”

“Oh, he does that,” Naomi said, unruffled.

“Some kind of transfer power?”

“I don’t think so. He’s actually a dud.”

“A dud?”

“Yes.”

While keeping a keen eye on her surroundings, in case that man sought to surprise her, Kasane approached her sister. She only spoke when she knew for sure that she and Naomi were the only two present in the room. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know. He only tells me that he’s a ‘friend.’”

A doubtful look overcame Kasane.

“He’s not a bad guy. Honest. He’s really kind and wants to help restore the world.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes. He’s genuine.” She paused. “Though he does say some strange things sometimes. But I don’t mind.”

“What do you mean by ‘strange things’?”

“He’s always quoting these weird phrases. He calls them scriptures.”

“From the Togestu faith?”

“No. Something about how a god created ten plagues to destroy Egypt. He says the Others are just one of many plagues and that mankind has faced similar extinction events before.”

Now, looking rather astounded, Kasane replied, “What are you… talking about, Naomi?”

“I mean,” Naomi rushed to say, “I don’t actually believe it. It sounds pretty out there if you really think about it. But… if I were being honest, it’s kind of comforting knowing there’s someone to blame for all this suffering.”

Hearing this, Kasane’s expression became downcast. What else could she say without shattering Naomi’s spirit?

Many monotonous days followed in due course: an Other suppression mission here, another Other suppression mission there, and a mission sent straight down from the top, Kaito to Yuito. It was an order to handle Seiran NDF soldiers marching too close to Suoh territory for comfort.

The group was getting more comfortable around the revenants, save for Kasane. She kept her skepticism about her. And likewise, Luka remained so far gone in his distrust for the two men that he refused to speak to anybody at all.

Quite opposite of the two of them, Kagero got along just swimmingly with the one named Yakumo. Tsugumi seemed to take a shining to him just as well. The girl would ask if he could help tend to the house plants. Yakumo would then stand from the couch and shuffle on over to her and Kagero to do just that.

But nobody in the hideout could beat the twins’ enthusiasm toward the revenants. They practically stitched themselves to Yakumo’s and Louis’ shadows, always looking on with these bright, big, intense eyes, as if waiting for either man to do something absolutely spectacular. Kasane could never be sure about what they expected, and she never cared to ask, not like Yuito anyway.

“Why do you always follow Yakumo or Louis around like that?”

“Hmm. Like what?” asked Wataru, still hunched over his notepad with a pen ready to fly into furious strokes at a moment’s notice.

“Ummm…” Yuito pointed to the notepad in Wataru’s possession. “Like… Like that.”

“I mean, we’re operators.” Wataru straightened himself out and placed the back of his hand on his hip, limply waving about the other, which held the notepad, as if to prove some kind of point with the gesture. “New information like this doesn’t come around very often.”

Haruka emphatically nodded. “Absolutely. Think about it: All we ever hear about are Others.”

“Yeah, and revenants are a far cry from psionics. Like, did you know they drink — OW!” He rubbed his side, wherein Haruka had jabbed him with her elbow. From there, he corrected his course. “I mean, they have vastly different and, dare I say, superior metabolisms.

“Can you believe THEY DON’T ACTUALLY NEED TO EAT TO SURVIVE. Yet they remain so fit. Fascinating, right.”

“I guess so,” Yuito replied, sounding rather unsure about all of this.

This was when Luka perked up and chimed in, much to everyone’s surprise. “I-I am curious about their metabolisms as well. Like…” He grew sheepish while directing his words to either of the two revenants, breaking his two-week silence. “How do you maintain muscle mass while eating so little? How do you get your protein? And do you have specific exercise regimens? Training quotas?”

Yakumo raised his hands — two broad yield signs. “Woah! One question at a time.” He weaved his arms across his chest before rattling off, “BOR parasite; protein powder, for extra oomph; not really; and yes.”

Luka beamed. “Wow!” His fists clenched with unrestrained inspiration. “I wonder if I could be just as big and strong if I had my very own BOR parasite.”

At this, Yakumo wriggle uncomfortably and Louis balk. The shelter fell into awkward silence.

“You’re plenty strong without it, Luka,” Louis soon said. “Besides, there’s no reason for you to give up your humanity for any kind of power. And make no mistake; it’s that humanity within you which makes you strong. Never forget it.”

A guilty look befell Luka. He seemed unsure about how to respond to Louis’ words. They were just so earnest…

Kasane knew the man was still obstinately prejudiced toward the inhuman beings. She almost knew exactly how he felt. She herself couldn’t shake the jaundiced feeling of knowing that these undead creatures were more human in appearance than her dear sister could ever hope to be in her malformed state. It wasn’t fair.

At this time, Yuito had peered over Wataru’s shoulder and at the notepad. He scrunched his brows and tilted his head to one side before noting that nothing was written in it.

“Well, of course not,” Wataru replied, as if it were something Yuito should have been privy to. “This is my second one.”

Hearing this, Kasane’s ears perked, and her gaze shifted to the twins before returning to the revenants, then to the twins’ hands. One of them — Haruka — was tapping their pen to the paper, ostensibly recounting bullet points, to ensure that everything was all in order. With a mind now lost in thought, Kasane narrowed her eyes.

There was one day, after handling a hefty Other suppression mission, when Kasane sneaked away from the hideout. She had waited until Kagero began his usual shenanigans and everyone was at his throat again. Shiden in particular. He happened to be in an extra foul mood at that moment.

Kagero knew how to rile the boy up. It took little effort. It got so bad in fact that Gemma, Kyoka, and Yuito had to step in to stop Shiden from swinging.

Now’s my chance.

That was when Kasane slipped away, and that was when Wataru came storming into the living room from the kitchen, looking rather distraught. “Did someone touch my notepad?”

“No,” Yuito said, still wrestling against Shiden’s urge to strangle Kagero and the temperamental boy’s new urge to gouge out the “pampered” Sumeragi boy's eyes for stopping him from doing so.

Kyoka and Gemma had since withdrawn when it seemed both young men looked to be caught in a stalemate.

“Huh… that’s strange.” Wataru pulled a face — a puzzled look, full of tensity and second guesses. “For some reason my notepad is two point five millimeters more to the left than how I left it.”

Just then, an audible snort came from behind him in the kitchen, caustic and grating to his ears. “Yuck. Nerd,” Haruka teased him.

This comment triggered yet another sibling squabble, wherein Haruka and Wataru were forehead to forehead, their eyes burning with disdain for the other and insults flying like no one would believe. A natural escalation for the likes of them in a situation so paltry.

Gemma and Kyoka now rushed into the kitchen to separate the Frazer twins, but not before Haruka had gotten a fistful of her brother’s hair. Poor Gemma had to pry her fingers apart to set a screaming Wataru free. All the while, Haruka said some pretty nasty things to her brother telepathically as Gemma and Kyoka dragged them apart.

Green eyes encasing red did not seem all too surprised to see her when she arrived. Karen had his arms crossed, his guard down — he could afford as much — and he had a superior look across his face. “I take it you have something good to share?”

“I do.”

“And?”

Kasane told him about the BOR parasite. She read about it in Wataru’s notes. There was so much to these revenants than they weren't letting on. But of course, Wataru’s notes were written in code, so Kasane couldn’t make heads or tails of some of the details. She absorbed as much as she could decipher, nevertheless.

But it made her question: Did the twins know everything about the revenants? And if so, why were the revenants giving them this knowledge so readily? Why only them?

Karen didn’t seem the least interested in this information. Unimpressed would be another fitting term. He just stared into space with this hard look, his fists slowly clenching at his sides. At this point, Kasane had dared to wonder what he was thinking.

“And given your observation, how would you say I’d fare against them?” the man — the Braineater — eventually asked.

Kasane was taken aback; it took an entire minute for her to find her words. “Well,” she started, still sounding nonplussed, “the leaner one, I don’t think you'd have much trouble against him. He’s fast. But your proficiency with hypervelocity is second to none. As for the taller one… I’d say you’re both evenly matched. He wields a lot of power behind his attacks, is able to mitigate oncoming damage, something of a similar effect to schlerokinesis, and he heals more quickly than the other one.

“In a battle of abilities, I say you have the upper hand. But in hand-to-hand combat, with no powers, he has the advantage.” She paused and thought for a moment before carrying on. “Why do you ask?”

Karen glowered at her. “No reason at all,” he said.

Next day, the psionics were lounging around. Yakumo and Louis were with them.

Gemma and Luka exercised in the training room. Hanabi, Yuito, and Arashi were holding a steady conversation. Shiden busied himself with reading. Haruka and Wataru stuck close to Louis with a notebook and pen in hand as the revenant listened patiently to Kyoka prattle on about luck and charms and superstitious what nots. Meanwhile, Kagero and Yakumo were helping Tsugumi tend to her precious plants.

Suddenly, the emergency dispatch alarm sounded, and everyone stood up. Everyone except Louis and Yakumo, that is. They looked at the psionics.

“Is something the matter?” asked Louis. His eyes scanned a medley of serious faces.

“There’s an emergency,” Yuito replied while gearing up.

Green eyes met red. The revenants still looked puzzled by the whole situation.

“Don’t you hear the alarm?” Yuito asked when he noticed their expressions.

“Nope.” Yakumo shook his head.

“What about the flashing red lights? Can you see them?” asked Hanabi, referencing something around her with a sweeping motion of her arm and a loose waving of her wrist.

“Not a damn thing.” Yakumo shrugged.

How did such a plight not cross them all beforehand? Yuito and Hanabi now exchanged looks. “So, then…” Yuito said, gaze returning to the two men. “You’re dud —” He stopped short when Yakumo’s expression hardened. “I mean, you lack psionic powers.”

“Wasn’t that already obvious?” Kagero asked. He had been eavesdropping up till that point.

“No, not really —”

Kagero gave the boy a hard singular pat on the shoulder. “Never mind that. We’re in the middle of an emergency. We can talk about this later.”

...And amidst the blaring of the alarm and flashing, moving red lights and symbols, Kasane placed the notepad back on the kitchen counter and left with the rest of the group to Suoh...

Chapter Text

“Egh… Ergh… Eugh…” instead of counting, Luka grunts each time his chin passes above the metallic bar that his tiny hands cling to.

Eighty pull ups down. Just twenty more to go.

On his hundredth rep, he allows himself to relax all at once, and gravity causes his body to come to a jerking stop. There he dangles, mostly to catch his breath, before releasing the bar and dropping to the floor, where he sticks a perfect landing.

While retiring to the kitchen, he grabs his water bottle and feels proud of himself, feels as if he’s getting somewhere. All his hard work is paying dividends; he can feel it. But his smile falters when he enters the kitchen, and whatever he was feeling before is suddenly gone now. Just like that.

“Oh. Hello, Luka,” says Louis when he notices him. He looks up from what he’s doing.

There is no doubt, he is jotting down research notes. All of which likely pertain to his discoveries from outside that… What does he call it? Gaol of the Mists, was it?

Sheepishly, Luka returns the revenant’s greeting — it’s only a singular nod — followed by his best impression of a friendly smile, and he thinks to himself soon after, based on Louis’ confused expression, that perhaps it really isn’t much of a smile at all. He at least tried.

Luka traverses his way to the kitchen counter, where he props himself up onto his tippy toes and slings his water bottle over his head and onto the countertop. For a moment, he wrestles with the bottle. First longways, then horizontalways, then upsidedownways before he is finally able to get it standing up straight.

With the water bottle now upright, Luka pats at the counter’s cool surface. He stretches his arm high over his head, bracing his other hand against one of the cabinet doors. He stretches his arm so high in fact that his armpit chafes against the counter’s edge. On his toes, he stands ballerina style, and he grunts and grimaces as his wee fingers barely graze the canister of Big Beef Brawn (a protein brand for serious bodybuilders dedicated to their craft; you know, the professional stuff that costs a fortune).

Curse it all! All he wants is his post-workout shake. Must everything be so difficult? As he is ready to resign himself to the fate of forgoing his maintenance shake, Yakumo walks into the kitchen to get in Louis’ ear — he’s bored. However, the approaching revenant takes notice of Luka, who is standing on his toes and reaching over the counter, and redirects his attention with the utmost celerity.

“What’s going on here?” Yakumo says, eyes growing bright and big, as if this were his one moment to shine. “You need help little guy?” he asks, speaking to Luka as if he were speaking to a child.

Luka drops from his toes and frowns up at the approaching revenant. Yakumo removes the top from the bottle and starts next on the canister — it is half full of protein powder — and Luka is STILL glaring, MENACINGLY, up at Yakumo.

“Here you go, little guy.” The revenant offers the protein shake to septentrion when it is finished, but Luka does not take it and instead deepens his frown. “What is it?” Quirking a brow, Yakumo places the bottle back on the counter and makes that crouching motion adults often do so that they can pat a toddler on the head at eye level.

Luka is calm, so very, very calm. He is not upset. Clearly, this is all just a misunderstanding. All he need do is put Yakumo to rights very, very gently... There is no need to act on emotion.

“I’m an adult just like you!” Luka barks. He balls his fists up before himself, his arms rigid with an implacable rage.

Yakumo blanches. He takes a step back from the boyish-looking man. “Hey, I-I’m sorry —”

“Perhaps maybe you did not know this,” and his voice raises and octave, “but not everything is as it seems!” Here, he smacks his chest. “I only have this appearance because of the anti-aging drug — it is required to be taken by ALL OSF members.”

“Woah. Hey. Listen. I didn’t mean to —”

“And while we're on the subject, have you ever once stopped to consider before assuming such things?”

“Wow. Can I explai —”

“It cannot be that this entire time you have considered me a child… Nothing more than a mere boy…”

At this point Yakumo throws up his hands and mutters to himself, “Okay… Guess I touched a nerve.” He rubs the back of his head. He otherwise knows the flaying won’t stop unless he leaves. So, he begins slowly retreating while Luka rattles on about the revenant’s honest mistake.

Yakumo is almost in the clear, almost able to make a dash for it straight out of the kitchen, but in enters Shiden, headphones on, eyes glued to a good article vision about the scientific breakdown of lightning, with a mug in his hand, steam wafting out of it in white streams, like nimble, graceful wisps. As if things could not get any worse, the two collide, Shiden walking into Yakumo’s back and Yakumo’s back bumping into Shiden’s mug. Tea flies into the air as one congealed wad of liquid, whistling ominously as it hurtles back down after reaching peak height.

Defying the law of physics, the law of inertia, and pretty much every other law in existence, the criminal formless blob lands on Louis’ button-down vest with a splat, soaking right through to his dress shirt and cooling before reaching his skin. He stares down at the offending stain, shocked, as he reclaims his thoughts.

Now, Shiden and Luka are both yelling at Yakumo — one for Yakumo not paying attention to where he was going and the other for Yakumo trying to leave while he was talking. It is an ever-growing tense situation that seemingly has no end in sight.

Despite all this chaos, Louis stands as if nothing were going on in the whole big world at all. He holds his hands and arms away from himself, treating the wet spot on his shirt like pathogen-ridden pond water — you know, the thing some people do sometimes when their clothes get wet, right? Well, he did that, looking like a cat shaking its paws while walking across a puddle, as he starts unfastening his buttons.

He removes the offending clothing, beginning with the button-down vest, then the white button-up shirt… He is shirtless before long, and nobody notices at first. Shiden and Luka are still on a tirade of an agenda each their own, a pincer attack against Yakumo at two fronts without room for an egress. Then all at once Luka is lent to silence, and Yakumo is able to make himself scarce. But not without Shiden following, yelling all the while, of course.

Louis has a slim figure that catches Luka's eye. His stomach is sunken, but made with a brick foundation, so that he doesn’t appear so gaunt. And as he folds his shirts, his shoulders and arms ripple, like crashing waves neath his skin, powerful yet so serene. Luka’s eyes light up like stars twinkling well on into daybreak, brimming with the many wishes of the downtrodden, the saddened, the burdened, and the unfortunate. Luka dares not tear his gaze away from a form which demands much esteem. It is sublime. A perfect frame of which any muscle buff would marvel at or look upon with covetous eyes. It is a work of strange fiction and even stranger non-fiction.

Louis sits in the living room, quietly studying his notes and jotting down more, the pistons of thought roaring and keeping the machine that is the mind going for as long as its host is able. His shirts are neatly folded beside his papers on the table; his eyes are hard and focused, so intense that they seem to suck the life out of the room, and they redirect it to the task at hand. As he draws an index finger to his face and curls it at his chin, his shoulder flexes, and his arms flex in that oh so vivid way sinewy limbs do when he crosses his them over his chest.

From afar — Louis does not know it — wide eyes rove his revenant form. In their sparkling curiosity, they watch him. Suddenly, the door opens and in walks Kyoka, Tsugumi, and Hanabi, and at the sound of their voices, Louis stands. He bunches up his folded shirts into his arms. The trio are talking about something when he approaches them. Before long, he says, “I’m glad you’re back. I was wondering, is there anyplace where I can wash these?” and he draws the shirts from his bare chest to present them.

Hanabi produces a high-pitched shriek and suddenly slaps a hand over her gaping mouth as she screws her eyes shut tight. She is red as an apple, and as you could expect, she garners the appropriate looks from her peers. Kyoka is unfazed, thankfully. Which is quite telling of her ability to handle the odd, the quirky, and the downright ludicrous.

“Oh, look at these…” Kyoka retrieves the vest and shirt from the revenant and makes a tortured face when she unfurls them and sees the large, wet, and very, very, very, very dark tea stain for herself. “Well, this just won’t do. Don’t worry, Louis. I'll make them as good as new in no time.”

“You have my appreciation.”

So, while Kyoka is busy with that, Louis continues studying, adding to, and making revisions to his notes. He is putting all his focus into his task; the same cannot be said for Hanabi, however. She is trying her hardest to keep her eyes from snapping back to the man’s pristine half naked form. “GET YOURSELF TOGETHER, HANABI!” She gives herself one hard slap. She is supposed to be helping with tending to the plants...

“W-what was that about?” asks Tsugumi, and she wonders why Hanabi is watering the floor instead of the succulents.

The self chiding continues. It is a bitter battle in Hanabi’s mind. She is no pervert, she thinks to herself. She must gain control; she must stay in control. She. Is. Not. A. Pervert. Besides, what would Yuito think of her if he ever found out about her scandalous side eyes and the hammering in her chest for something so… so… enticing? Why, he would lose all respect for her! She would never be able to recover from that! Having drawn her final conclusion, Hanabi sucks in a deep breath and holds it. She would rather pass out than give in to desires so based. And she does.

At the sound of a weighty thud, Tsugumi springs into action, dropping her watering can beside that of Hanabi’s. Just this once — Tsugumi abandons the geraniums to kneel at the non-responsive girl’s side. “Hanabi! Hanabi!” she cries while shaking her by the shoulder. “Hanabi, get up!”

Meanwhile, as Louis is handling business of his own, dark green eyes peep up and over the couch and at his form, watching on with admiration as muscle slips over muscle, a fluid motion as Louis stretches and rolls his shoulders to stave off the aches and pains setting in from his impossibly hunched posture that he somehow managed to hold all day while roving and mulling over many weeks' worth of empirical data.

Some thirty minutes to an hour pass when Kyoka finally returns. “All finished!” she practically sings, like a mother who just completed a simple yet very important task for her dearest son and was ready to surprise him with the end product. Louis stands and navigates the couch, making his way toward the woman.

As he takes his shirt and vest, he thanks her. “I am forever in your debt,” he solemnly says. His eyes go wide the moment he unfurls the button-up shirt, and his jaw goes slack. “This is incredible,” he gasps. “What compounds did you use for such effectual results?”

At this point, Hanabi is going from beet red to blue to deep purple, and Tsugumi looms over her, panicking. The atmosphere is pretty chaotic, even as Louis and Kyoka continue their banal exchange.

Though the shirt and vest are still somewhat wet, Louis puts them on; his back and abs flex wonderfully as he does so, and little green eyes observe them from inside the training room, peering from round the entrance corner.

It is with a broad smile that Kyoka begins her explanation, when Louis is fully clothed once more. “Well, first I recited an incantation.” She cites the incantation for the sake of reference. “Then I rubbed my face with energy crystals. After that, I clapped my hands three times and spun around until I got dizzy.” She gives a little demonstration here. “Then I hung a good luck charm on each arm. Finally, I doused the stains with vinegar and scrubbed them with a damp cloth.”

And Louis' eyes grow wide with astonishment. “So, it’s vinegar,” he says as if he's just come to the revelation of a lifetime.

When the others are out and the revenants have left for the Gaol of the Mists, Luka stands before a mirror — it is not his, but is in fact Hanabi’s, a gift the Ichijo girl had received from Yuito. Luka is shirtless, and he views himself from the side profile, canting his lips to one side, then to the other, as if in bitter judgment, before facing his reflection head on.

He curls his arms upward, flexes them, and hardens his stomach. He turns his upper body this way and that to view himself from as many angles as possible. His body is taut, and he can see as well as acknowledge that, but it is still not at all what he expects it to be after decades of vigorous exercise and a strict diet rich in protein. He has put so much time, effort, and even dreams as hollow as his now spiritless heart into it. Still, his arms are two flimsy noodles; his stomach is flat, lacking texture; his chest is unremarkable; his body is pale and veiny, but not the kind of veiny he would most prefer — his veins are nothing more than light green or bluish hues that twist and turn and stretch into networks that reveal themselves through opaque skin, their look comparable to marker strokes on paper, paling in comparison to the magnificent garden hoses that top ranked bodybuilders have bulging from their thighs, forearms, pectorals, and necks; and his stature remains… ever boyish.

He sighs as he drops his arms and stares absentmindedly into space. He wonders to himself if he’ll ever fill out. He wonders to himself if he'll ever grow. And most of all, he wonders to himself if this insecurity will forever be the sum of his life.

Chapter Text

Sitting on the couch with his aching head in hand, Yuito thought back on the unfolding of yesterday's events. By the time they had arrived, the streets were manic with chaos. People cried and screamed for help, their voices there one minute, then gone the next. They were such horrific sounds that reminded Yuito of nails grating against a chalkboard.

Limbs flailed in all directions on the bodies of souls unfortunate enough to be taken up and dragged through these queer red phenomena — red gates filled with a fuzzy static, like what's seen on televisions with poor reception. They hung suspended in the air, some even a hundred feet above, and changed shape every other second.

To explain in further detail: These portals were of a blocky amalgamation of colors. Those colors being many shades of red, from darker to lighter and lighter to darker, and black, and they remained in a state of constant influx and disintegration. At one moment, there would crop up a long rectangular appendage on one side, then, in another shift, two more would spring forth just as one or more retracted all the same.

However, these red gates never changed shape in ways that were comprehensible to human insight. No. The integrity of these gates' shapes was always preserved, never changing in dimension or volume, only in what was seen. It was a phenomenon that looked unreal, one that the Suoh scientific community would come to take an interest in and dub as “Fabric Reality Quashing,” an anti-negative, -positive effect which would be studied in secret for a time after. But that is neither here nor now.

Tsugumi tried seeing beyond these gates using her clairvoyance, but they disappeared from her sight completely.

Many people were snatched up that day. They were plucked off the ground and flung around like rag dolls before disappearing into the portals. The National Defense Force could do little of it, besides fire missiles from ballistic carrying vehicles that phased right through the portals. And the Other Suppression Force wasn't of much help either.

While sitting, sullen, on the couch, Yuito mourned those losses, and the poor boy's heart shattered when he remembered an especially particular moment — the blood-curdling scream of a daughter being separated from her mother. They were dragged opposite of each other, and in a moment's decision, Yuito sprang forth to save the young girl, who had yet to be pulled through one of the red gates like her mother. He latched onto her arm and firmly held her, but she slipped right out of his grasp and was snatched through a gate.

Like failing pulses, the gates eventually closed up, shrinking into themselves until nothing remained. Missing persons visions were put up immediately after the incident, along with a government contact number if ever the persons were found.

The missing, however, would never be found.

Yuito's face sank into his hands. His elbows dug into his knees, marking them with red, round indents through his pants. He felt as if he were going to cry. He wanted to cry... Thankfully, Hanabi approached him — the angel that she was!

“Is everything all right, Yuito?” she asked.

Yuito inhaled deeply and swallowed. He gathered himself before answering. “Yeah, my head just hurts,” he said and looked at her.

Hanabi grimaced, and Yuito had to wonder how truly awful he looked to elicit such an expression. “Are you upset about yesterday?”

The question chased his gaze away. He now sat hunched over his knees. “I felt so useless yesterday.” He raised a shoulder and let it go limp. “I couldn't save anyone, and the one person I tried to save, a... a —“ he paused to compose himself. “She was a little girl. She slipped out of my hands, Hanabi. I mean, what was I even there for? I didn't help anyone.”

Sitting beside him, and keeping her concerned gaze steadfastly on his form, Hanabi responded, “Yuito.... This isn't like you.”

“I know. I know.” He contemplated for a moment before digging the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbing at them. He rubbed hard enough to hear them squeaking inside his head.

There was no telling how much time had passed during this moment of silence. But one thing was for sure: Yuito really wasn't acting his normal positive self. And he felt it too. Something was shifting inside him, a besieging feeling that all things would go awry soon.

“You know,” Hanabi said at length,”I understand what you're going through. And I'm sure everyone else feels the same way, too.”

These words stirred Yuito, and they beckoned his attention to her.

“What you're feeling right now... I also feel it...”

“You do?”

She nodded. “Watching all those people disappear... not being able to help them. It made me question my abilities. 'Am I not good enough to save people,' or 'am I just too weak?'”

“None of that is true!” Yuito blurted, shocking Hanabi. “You're great, Hanabi. You were scouted by the OSF for your talent. You're strong. You're decisive. Honestly, I wish I were maybe a little more like you. Maybe then I could have...” He screwed his eyes shut when the image of that young girl he had failed to save returned to his thoughts.

Red now colored Hanabi's cheeks, and they seemed to grow redder the longer she stared, wide-eyed and lips parted, at Yuito. “You should show yourself some grace,” she said once she'd gotten a hold of herself.

Yuito asked what she meant.

“None of us knew what to do yesterday. We've never faced anything like it before. It was chaotic and really confusing and scary.” For a moment, she paused. Then she quickly hopping to her feet. Her tone changed, and she turned her whole body to him while placing her hands on her hips. “So, stop being so hard on yourself! Okay?” And she smiled. Yuito smiled too.

“You're right, Hanabi. Thanks for talking some sense into me,” he said.

Hanabi, of course, was right about what she said. Since that horrid incident in Suoh, Louis kept his nose deep in his notes, scribbling formulas and jotting down hypotheses, while Yakumo found comfort in horsing around with Kagero. Back and forth Louis went from couch to kitchen. In the kitchen, he collaborated with Haruka and Wataru regarding his notes. They spoke in long sessions, then he was back to the couch before he knew it. There the notes held his scrutiny, as if the papers themselves had committed some sort of unspeakable crime. After a considerable length of time filled with thoughtful humming and brow flexing, he eventually made two separate piles with them. Plausible and possible. He then went about making more formulas and hypotheses.

But no matter how far he went down the rabbit hole, he couldn't find a fitting or sensible answer to those red portals and the invisible forces that had accompanied them. He left the hideout for the Gaol of the Mists, no closer to the answer than when he first posited the machinations of those red oddities. Everyone else remained just as puzzled and anxious in regard to them as well.

In the following weeks, strange news began to surface. On the psionic-powered televisions in every anxious household, news anchors — one woman, blonde with black eyeliner, soft red lipstick outlined with darker red, and two dangling sphere-shaped earrings in each ear, and a man, who wore an obvious toupee — reported on the indiscriminate assaults happening around Suoh of late. These attacks all happened near Sumeragi Tomb.

This particular report involved a small girl who was found in a dumpster. She looked more like a horror movie prop than a lost-then-found victim to be investigated. Based on the report, she was mummified with dehydration when authorities found her. Her mother wailed at the sight and offered apologies to deaf ears as her daughter was rolled away, her tiny body censored by a giant floating vision of an eye struck out by a diagonal line. This signified that the body was in such a bad shape that it would cause emotional damage to any unfortunate onlooker who happened to be nearby. The dead girl's mother committed suicide that same night. (This news did not make headlines.) Of which:

“Has anybody been listening to the news lately? You know, about those attacks...” Yuito asked one day.

Everyone turned to him. Everyone except Louis, that is. He was yet still too deep in his notes. It was Kagero who next spoke, though not in response to Yuito's question.

“Oh man. That's awful,” he said. He stood before the vision of a television set and had his arms crossed over his chest like two shields to protect himself from further heartbreak. “Are you guys seeing this?”

Pointedly, Yakumo raised a brow. “Uh, what exactly am I supposed to be seeing now.”

Kagero face palmed. “Oh yeah. That's right,” he blurted in one of those silly-me kind of tones. He then gave Yakumo the short of it. “So apparently, they found a dead girl in a dumpster. I guess she was abducted near the Sumeragi Tomb a few days ago.”

“That's... unsettling.” A sad expression crossed Yakumo's face.

“Yeah. And get this... She was completely drained of her blood.” This made Louis pause in his work and Yakumo grimace. Kagero continued speaking. “But she isn't the first either. Just the first to be found dead. All the other victims were lucky enough to escape. They rushed to the hospital after being attacked. And their stories are all nearly identical. Someone grabbed them from behind, dragged them away, and bit them.” He made a motion on one hand with his middle and forefinger, either making air quotes or some other gesture signifying something more sinister. Kagero offered both revenants an apologetic expression before saying more venomously, “It's some crazy cult stuff if you ask me. Must be Togetsu. I wouldn't put it past them.”

Kagero's foolish accusation aside, the entire room bowed their heads in a moment of silence for the young girl. Kyoka was the most cut up about it. She had nearly come to tears.

Arashi flopped onto her back, away from her PC and into her pile of mess. “I knew about the attacks... But... I didn't think it would escalate to someone getting killed.” Listlessly, she draped an arm over her eyes. “A little girl... Seriously, that's totally messed up.”

“And what about the surveillance cameras?” Shiden threw his two cents in. “These attacks had to have been recorded.”

“Well, I'm certain whatever footage the government has is being thoroughly investigated,” Luka replied; Tsugumi agreed.

Meanwhile, uneasy glances were being traded among Louis, Yakumo, Haruka, and Wataru, when the twins the room after eavesdropping from the kitchen. A keen-eyed Kasane glimpsed these glances of theirs.

Kyoka hugged herself. “To think that a girl so young could endure such an awful fate.” She shivered at just the thought. “It's terrible.”

All of a sudden, an image of that young girl, the one he had failed to save a few days ago, flashed into Yuito's mind. He was reminded of her scream, her cry for her mother... her mother's cry for her. Worst of all, he could picture with perfect accuracy the look of fright on her face. Bulging eyes. Mouth gaped so wide it looked as if her jaw would unhinge. He shuttered at the memory. All this talk about a dead girl being found in a dumpster was getting to him.

A trio of troublemakers picked at Wataru and Haruka for answers in the days that followed. They were convinced the attacks had something to do with Yakumo and Louis, whether the two were directly or indirectly involved. Things started innocently enough, at first with a vague question here or there. Then persistence.

Shiden, Arashi, and Luka were the culprits. Each acting on his or her own interest, they would corner one or both of the twins and demand answers. Answers which the Frazer twins had sworn to secrecy. “What do you mean?” either of them would sometimes say, playing dumb.

Whenever Yuito was present, he stepped in to relieve either twin of the thorn in their side. But when it came to handling Shiden, he knew better than to get involved and so would ignore the twins' longing looks begging for help from across the room.

Gemma and Kyoka were also unwitting assailants in pestering the twins — they meant no harm. But sometimes they couldn't help their curiosity, and they asked about the revenants. Never did they corner them like how the other three did. They did, however, press for answers despite either twin saying, “Sorry. That's classified information.”

Sooner than they all could ever know, they would discover for themselves the indisputable truths hidden in a history overwritten many times before.

It was a dull day. Not a thing out of the ordinary. Feeling bogged down with boredom, Yuito got up from where he sat. He raised his arms above his head upon reaching full height, stretched right then left, and then dropped them at his sides. His eyes shifted to Louis, scanned Louis, who was deep in his notes with his brow creased in such an intense furrow that Yuito was certain he could take a pot and a ladle, bang them near his head, and Louis would still have the same pensive expression on his face. He then observed Yakumo. He currently busied himself with helping Tsugumi tend to her plants; Kagero was with them, of course. Next, Yuito's eyes floated to Kasane. Stoic as ever. She busied herself with another carving. A... skyscraper, maybe? It was too early to tell. Though Yuito was certain that whatever she was making, it would be done with such care that Hanabi or another would feel inclined to encourage her to make a business of her talent. He could hear her response even now. “There's no need to.”

He was just about to amble his way into the kitchen and snack his boredom away when the alarm blared and everyone stood on alert.

Knowing what this meant, though they could not see or hear what the psionics could and instead could only react to the psinonics dropping their current tasks and gearing up, Yakumo and Louis dropped what they were doing. “Trouble?” Louis asked.

“Yeah.” Yuito said. “It's another emergency distress call from Suoh.”

Grasping the hilt of Oni Bane, Yakumo nodded and slung the massive weapon over his shoulder. “Let's get this show on the road then, shall we.”

Arriving on scene, Yuito and Kasane Platoons jumped into the thick of the action. Using his psychokinesis, Yuito crushed a strange little creature with a car; it looked almost simian-like and walked while trailing its bladed weapon behind itself, a weapon much too unwieldy for the creature's spindly arms. Next, Yuito evaded a large hammer carried by a hulking beast with a barrel-like belly. It wore a mask, one which resembled that of Louis' and Yakumo's.

There were also other creatures — all very much human shaped — that ran at psionics, civilians, and revenants alike with halberds and other sharp instruments. They too wore what looked to be purifier masks.

These creatures were unlike Others... Upon their destruction, these beings burst into flecks of reddish or purplish light. Pow! A bullet was sent straight through to the heart by one NDF soldier. The luminous specks whirled with a mind each their own before settling in the air like a dusty fog.

What the hell are these things? Yuito thought as he tore the weapon from an oncoming attacker's hand and, with a surprising amount of precision, stabbed it through the chest with it. The creature dropped and burst into the same reddish-purple particles as those which perished before it.

There were much stouter enemies among the smaller and human-sized ones. These required the assistance of three or more NDF or OSF soldiers to take them down. They swung around unwieldy weapons that cracked the pavement or cut power poles in half, giving even Gemma, and his schlerokinesis, a run for his money. Many soldiers were brought to their knees by the battle's end. And with the end of this fracas, Kasane turned to the revenants. “Is there something you need to tell us?” she asked. Her tone was much too calm for the severe expression on her face.

This sudden turn took the revenants aback. Their mouths hung open behind their purifier masks. Their eyes, big and wide, blinked rapidly.

“Those creatures,” Kasane said when neither of them replied, “that's what you become, right?”

“Wait. Is this true?” Yuito said. The question was posed to Wataru, but the line was oddly quiet.

As always, when he saw Yakumo rub the back of his neck and shrug a shoulder, Louis knew that he himself would be tasked with explanations. He was starting to feel more like a scapegoat rather than the brains of the duo. A look of resignation befell him, and he soon replied: “Those creatures you just saw are what becomes of revenants when we do not feed. The transformation results from the BOR parasite stimulating our metabolisms, which creates a state known as frenzy. If a revenant fails to feed during a frenzy, the BOR parasite will completely take over his body... We become one of the Lost... Unkillable monstrosities that mindlessly wander the earth.”

A lump formed in Hanabi's throat. “And... What do you feed on?” she said with this look on her face that just said it all. She would rather not know what revenants feed on.

“Well,” Yakumo briefly interrupted himself with a chuckle, “certainly not brains.”

“Blood. We need blood.” Louis was straight to the point. “Or blood beads, which has a similar constitution.”

Gasps and murmurs now filled the air. “So, you mean those attacks...” Tsugumi's expression was taut, brows low, chin crinkled, lips curled downward, all light gone from her eyes, replaced by a shadow of doubt that now belonged to those she once trusted.

“That's not us. It has to be other revenants who stumbled their way out here,” Yakumo said, hoping it would be enough to assuage her fears.

“But how can we be sure?”

Immediately sensing Tsugumi's distrust growing, Kagero stepped toward her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Tsugumi,” he said, his voice paternal-like, kind, and understanding, but most of all full of firmness. “Do you really believe Yakumo and Louis would go around attacking innocent people like that?”

Tsugumi's features twisted at the question. “I-I don't want to think they would... No.”

Fully turning her to him, Kagero put his other hand on her other shoulder and gave her no choice but to meet his gaze. “Then trust them,” he said. “There's no way guys like Louis and Yakumo are bad. And if you don't trust them, then trust me. They aren't bad people, Tsugumi.”

“But... they lied.”

“They had their reasons.”

“But —“

“Trust me, Tsugumi.” He smiled at her.

The conversation between the revenants and psionics continued. “That's some vital information you happened to be hiding from us,” Luka spat. “If we would've known this prior, we would not have allowed you such proximity with us.”

“I realize that,” Louis said.

“And yet you withheld it from us!”

Here, Arashi shrugged in that lax way she always does and commented about how nice it would have to been to have known everything about the revenants; all in the same breath, she declared she was much too tired to “get as worked up as Luka, here.” The man glowered at her, affronted by her allusion that he was overreacting.

He never got the chance to confront her, however, because at that moment a command came to one of the soldiers via walkie talkie. He answered immediately.“Uh huh... Yes, sir. Understood, sir,” and he and his fellow NDF soldiers encircled Yuito and company, with their weapons raised.

This sudden act of aggressiveness from fellow soldiers confused Yuito. He asked what was going on, but no one answered him. The soldiers parted the way when Fubuki arrived on scene. He passed through the wall of guns and armored bodies and stood tall and confident before the baffled group, exactly the way a major general should carry himself. But something was different about him. The warmness he usually carried with himself was absent. “By order of the New Himuka government, I hereby place these two under military custody. Stand down, Yuito Platoon.” He glowered at the group.

“What?” Yuito stepped forward and then backed off when a soldier threatened him with the muzzle of her gun. “Major General Fubuki. I don't understand. What are you talking about? Why are you taking Louis and Yakumo into custody?”

At that moment, the revenants were relieved of their weapons and were cuffed. The group stirred as Louis and Yakumo were shoved and berated by NDF soldiers drunk on power. “Hands above your head!” one screamed in Yakumo's ear. Yakumo did everything within his power to not punch the guy when he did as told. He and Louis were patted down and stripped of whatever else they had on hand — blood beads, throwing knives, ichor replenishment viles.

“They are prime suspects in the recent string of attacks happening of late,” Fubuki answered.

“It can't be them. Check the surveillance footage if you have too!” Shiden spoke up in their defense.

“It doesn't matter.” Fubuki's answer was cold. “They are prime suspects.”

It suddenly dawned on them all... This wasn't about the recent string of attacks in Suoh at all; this was government business. A chafed Arashi gave a grating groan. “Always the diligent worker, Fubuki. You should reaaaaaaally try slacking off some time,” she said, her tone acerbic.

“I'm sorry...”

“What does the government know?” asked Yuito. “About the revenants, I mean.”

“I'm sure they have one or two of them in 'custody' already. Isn't that right, Fubuki?” Arashi's interrogative gaze narrowed on her brother.

He said nothing. Kagero inched forward. “What's going to happen to them?” He was unconcerned about the gun pointing his way and moved until it touched right between his eyes.

Again, Fubuki said nothing, just stood there looking as if he wanted to say something but could not. It was Yakumo who spoke instead. “Don't worry 'bout us. We can handle our own.”

“QUIET!” An NDF soldier struck Yakumo in the abdomen with the butt of his gun, knocking the wind out of him.

Even though the revenants had lied by omission and essentially betrayed the group's trust, none of them wanted to see them hauled off and incarcerated, especially considering it was so obvious that they were being charged with false crimes. Poor Luka looked just as torn, wishing to speak out against all this. But he never did.

As he turned away, Fubuki cast an apologetic look over his shoulder and said, “I'll make sure they're treated well,” before mouthing something to the group, an imperceptible word that no one caught. However, Yuito swore he heard the word “conspiracy.” Or perhaps he just imagined it.

The Sumeragi stood, face hardened, hands behind his back. He did a sort of nod, and the two remaining soldiers uncuffed the revenants. He then did another nod. The soldiers bowed at the hip and left.

“I'm Sumeragi Kaito, chief of the Other Suppression Force.” He stepped from behind his desk and stood face to face with the revenants.

Feeling obligated to do the same, Louis introduced himself, followed by Yakumo, who used only his last name.

“I'll get right to the point. Under whose authority do you act?”

Louis answered, “We are not colluding with your enemies if that is what you're asking.”

It was acceptable enough. “Then I am to assume you aren't spies sent from Seiran or Togetsu?”

“No. We are not.”

It quickly came to them that Kaito did not need to ask what Yakumo and Louis were. This could be because he already knew, Louis surmised. But it was too soon to say.

“Then,” Kaito continued, “I'd like to personally invite you to join our military. We can use powerful fighters like yourselves.”

But did they have any other choice? “We accept,” said Louis without pause.

“Good. Then I'll assign you to Yuito Platoon. You seem to be well acquainted anyway.” Kaito paused and looked them over, his gaze stopping short at Yakumo, who was glaring him down. “A word of warning: We'll be keeping a close eye on you. For research purposes. So, be on your best behavior. Complete any task we give you, without question, without hesitation. It goes without saying that insubordination and desertion will be met with swift and severe punishment. I'm looking forward to seeing how well you perform.”

The revenants were eventually dismissed and their items returned to them on their way out of the building, save for two or three blood beads missing from their rations that the NDF soldiers confiscated earlier. As they exited the building, the breeze jeered and tugged at them.

Yakumo and Louis shared what had happened in their meeting with Kaito when Yuito and company asked about it. It was the least they could do to make up for their duplicity. But despite these growing mysteries and strange happenings, the days passed on normally and trust slowly began building between the psionics and revenants again.

Missions arrived from Fubuki — to slay Others. Louis and Yakumo received orders just as well. Sometimes the two were made to clear a hoard or three of the Lost, which gathered round the outcroppings of the city from time to time — their numbers seemed to grow more and more with each outbreak. Then there were those missions when they were deployed to handle Major Others. This was a task that seemed now to lie solely on their shoulders.

And it was not hidden that they were under surveillance. Drones, military, as crows were strictly prohibited from filming the revenants despite free press laws, followed them on their missions, always observing, sending footage, vitals, and calculations back to HQ. Kaito was always gauging them through a stony face tucked behind interlocked fingers, as if the revenants were under test trial.

“You know, we should hit the town,” Kagero said one lazy day. “I happen to know all the best spots in Suoh.” He was sitting beside Yakumo and gave him a suggestive jostling with his elbow.

It was one of their more leisure days. They received not a call from the major general. Days like these could be so boring. So Yuito, having heard Kagero's suggestion, shifted where he sat on the couch. It was the one to the left of where Kagero sat. “You know what,” said Yuito with an agreeable nod, “that doesn't sound like a bad idea.”

The revenant whom Kagero jostled shrugged. “I'll let Louis decide.” And they all looked to Louis, who was currently locked in conversation with Kyoka. “Hey, Louis, you up for a tour around the city?”

“It'll be fun,” Kagero said in a sing-song voice.

Thoughtfully, after his conversation fell on pause, Louis pressed a thumb and forefinger to his chin. “It can't hurt to familiarize ourselves with Suoh's topography.”

“Great!” Kagero threw himself from the couch and onto his feet. “Let's get going!”

A few went along with them, only Hanabi and Haruka. (Wataru expressed wanting to go; nevertheless, he remained behind.) The two girls were dying to get out and stretch their legs, anyway.

True to his word, Kagero showed the revenants around Suoh, from quaint family-owned shops to sleepy night clubs waiting to come to life with neon lights and booming music once the sun finally set.

“And that's where you and I will go to pick up the ladies...” he said, throwing an arm around Yakumo and pointing at one of the nightclubs. Its windows were painted by the darkness from the inside. The group cast a reflection on the glass as they walked past.

Placing a hand on his hip in such a way that the angle of his elbow chased Kagero away, Yakumo replied, “I don't think Tsugumi would approve...”

“Awww, come on. Don't be a stick in the mud.”Kagero played the part of a man whose feelings had just been hurt, and he clutched at his heart and hung onto Yakumo's shoulder as if for dear life. “She doesn't need to know. We're guys; we need to have fun every now and then.”

Yakumo chuckled. He didn't rebuke Kagero, only shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Well, you take full responsibility then. This was all your idea.” His hand came down on the blonde's shoulder, and he gave him two friendly pats before shoving him away. “Now get off me. People are staring.” He wasn't wrong...

The revenants' presence attracted the curious gazes of onlookers. One head turned after another. Some people even stopped dead in their tracks to watch them pass by. Then there were those who turned their whole body so that they could stare with large dinner plate-sized eyes.

At first, a singular man approached. “Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to be the super soldiers from that video, would you?” And as if fueled by the audacity of this man, more and more people approached them, their voices like a rolling tide that seemed to pick up in intensity as their questions came in droves. Some wanted to know what regiment the “super soldiers” belonged to. Some wanted to know if they were part of a special squadron, as rumors suggested. Some wanted to know what their powers were.

Yuito tried clearing them away. Then Hanabi and Haruki tried the same. However, the more they pushed against the growing crowd, the rowdier the crowd became. Curious hands groped at Yakumo and Louis — their clothes, their arms, and even at one point Yakumo's hair. “Ouch! Hey!” He glared into the crowd when a few red strands were tugged from his scalp. The crows soon joined in, pulled in by all the commotion, cameras zooming in and out in hopes of getting that perfect shot for their tabloid journalism.

We're in for some serious trouble if this keeps up, Yuito thought to himself when he'd been shoved flush against Yakumo's arm. “Sorry,” he quickly claimed, pulling away from him as best he could as the crowd shoved on harder than before. It began to set in that they would all be crushed, trampled to death by civilians, no less. The thought made Yuito's heart race.

Suddenly, the crowd broke apart, like a droplet of water spattered on the ground, each man and woman going in his or her own direction. Whereas before they were an impregnable wall fueled by brazen curiosity, they were now but a confused jumble of limbs and screams. But it wasn't before long when Yuito discovered the reason for their fears: Others.

They came from every street, burst from alleyways, and jumped out of the pavement as if it were black, viscous liquid and not solid asphalt. The team engaged the Others in combat.

While fighting, Yuito got to thinking: something was off about this attack. He cut down a Saws Paws. The emergency alarm wasn't even going off. He then defeated three more Saws Paws.

At one point while he was lost in his thoughts, he was saved by Kagero, who claimed now that Yuito “owed him one.” But in the same vein in which Yuito had been, Kagero was attacked seconds later by a Buddy Rummi from behind. Like clockwork, Yuito returned the favor.

The fight raged on; it was the longest Yuito had ever faced. The Others kept coming, and to make things worse, there wasn't any sign of back up arriving anytime soon.

The psionics were drawing on the last of their strength now. Their reaction slowed and a few civilians almost lost their heads because of it. Hanabi became breathless, Yuito's legs wobbled beneath him, and Kagero could no longer remain invisible for more than three seconds at a time now. And Haruka... Poor Haruka. As a non-combat type, she had been reduced to hiding behind whoever was closest at any given moment.

Yuito and company inevitably petered out, Hanabi falling to a knee and Kagero nearly getting crushed between a Brawn Yawn's jaws. Lucky for him, Yakumo came rushing in and grasped the creature by either of its jaws. Using the full of his might, he tore the creature's mouth apart, killing it instantly. He then peered over his shoulder just in time to see Kagero drop to the ground like pile of sweat-soaked clothes. “Thanks. That was close,” Kagero said.

“Can you stand?” was Yakumo's only response. A Saws Paws flew at him while he wasn't looking. Its had its blade legs extended, forcing him onto the offensive once more.

“Nope. Thoroughly exhausted,” Kagero said after Yakumo felled the attacking creature.

It was all up to the revenants now. They fought on to protect the civilians and their friends, and they did this while having to watch their own backs too. The Others attacked from all directions, leaving little room respite.

As the revenants tirelessly cut down the Others, they were being observed. The cameras followed them, analyzed them, forming virtual red boxes around their limbs. Teexts appeared either above or below the boxes, noting things like the force behind their strikes or the average speed of their of their attacks.

Louis had taken a pretty awful hit at one point. An Auger Sabbat charged him while he was distracted with a civilian, and it got his shoulder with its spiky nose. It left him with a wound that would have been a problem for any NDF or OSF soldier receiving just the same. Yet he moved as one who'd never taken a hit at all, twirling around and cutting his attacker deeply into its throat as it rushed him by. Louis' wound was healed by the time the Other burst into ethereal flower petals, and the spying cameras calculated the time it took for this healing process to complete — twelve point five second.

BUUUUZZZZZ WHOOOOP BUUUUUZZZZZ WHOOOOP eventually started the alarm. Flashing red lights and symbols crossed Yuito's vision. And he felt a disturbance within him. A headache was forming. The growing pain was enough to cause Yuito to stagger forward and grasp his head.

“Yuito, are you all right?!” Hanabi rushed to him, put herself under his arm and offered to support his weight. Her voice sounded muffled and far away, as if they were underwater.

He tried shaking this weird sensation out of his head, but it clung to him like a bad omen. “Just a little lightheaded,” he said, growing groggy.

Eventually, Yakumo and Louis overcame the Others. But their victory was short-lived, as it seemed to summon five more. Major Others. They came skulking down buildings or from out of nowhere in particular and were unlike none Yuito and his group had ever seen before.

One had the head of a horse, though its muzzle was an iron cannon, which it fired oil and water from, among other projectiles that could latch on to surfaces and explode on contact if touched. Another had legs like bent fishing poles, with thin lines with hooks on the ends. It swung these around before casting them out as a means of attacking. One had its two arms, one made of stone and the other made of sutured flesh of various colors — actually, upon further inspection, Yuito was quite certain these were the skins of differing animal species, of which included human flesh — twisted in such a way that they could not be moved. From its arms jutted out spines that made it look like a large sassy cactus due to its arms being bent akimbo at its torso. Then there was a Major Other which had glass shards for teeth and a metallic pectoral region with high heels on stalks sprouting from it like flowers. The fifth Major Other was a chimeric amalgamation of a bat, a dog, a cat, a person, and... a car? It was hard to tell; the creature was so mangled. It had four large tires for feet that it rolled around on and long, stilt-like legs.

Yakumo and Louis dealt with each of these creatures accordingly, and within minutes the battle was won. To say the least, Yuito was so awe-inspired by the way the revenants fought that he had to clamp his mouth shut when he realized it was hanging open. Their battle prowess was truly amazing. What's more, their regenerative capabilities were a boon in high risk combat scenarios. As much as Yuito was ashamed to think it, he was glad Yakumo and Louis were on their side.

The NDF finally arrived on scene. They started ushering civilians to safety all while barking and swallowing orders among each other. And as everything unfolded, from the very moment the Others came traipsing on by like a plague unleashed on the city to the NDF finally showing up, Kaito watched it all as a floating vision. His hands were propped up, elbows resting on the magnificent polished brown wood of the desk he sat at, and his fingers were interlaced, pressed against his lips. There was a donnish crease in his brow.

For a few second more he watched before drawing his hands away from his face and allowing them rest on the desk with their fingers still interlaced. He then looked to the lab coats in the room and said: “Go ahead with the research and experimentation.”

The scientists exchanged glances. All that confidence with which they had swaggered into this meeting seemed to have waned all at once. “But, sir,” one started sharing his misgivings. But Kaito interrupted, just spoke on. “I want a full detailed report by next week. Get it done and get it done well.”

Not wanting to dig themselves deeper into the Chief's very shallow patience, the scientists assented and bowed at the hip, then they were dismissed.

Yuito and company were taken to the Suoh OSF Hospital and treated for battle fatigue; Haruka stood by in the waiting area, eating a snack bar she'd just bought from a vending machine. KCHHHHINK the machine made a noise when she paid two hundred forty kin kins. A metal spiral swirled round and round after her payment, like a whirlpool in slow motion, until the snack bar fell with a light thump. Haruka stuck her hand through the mouth of the machine to grab her snack and ate with rapture.

Yakumo and Louis were given a thorough examination. The nurses drew up many viles of blood — “Ichor,” Louis kept reminding them, because its makeup, while similar, had a very different constitution from blood. They also ran stress tests, took X-rays, MRIs, the works. Tick-tick-scrabble-tick went their pens clacking and scraping against their clipboards as they furiously jotted down notes. They looked up from them every once in a while to study either Louis or Yakumo with inquisitive looks before nodding to themselves, as if they'd just confirmed a miraculous scientific discovery; they then went right back to scribbling furiously.

“Here you go,” one nurse said as she plopped a pack of liquid into Yakumo's hand when the tests were over, then into Louis'. She had just finished taking their temperature and hitting their knees with a reflex hammer.

Both, wide-eyed, stared down at what had just been given to them. “This is...” Yakumo said before cutting himself short, as if what he was about to say were some wicked incantations to not be evoked.

The woman smiled at them before leaving the room. Now alone, in a moment of uncertainty, the two men met in a shared gaze, and they seemed to speak to each other through their expressions. Yakumo's lips became a thin line, as if to tell Louis he felt weird about all of this, that he couldn't drink human blood and wouldn't, even if he were on the verge of frenzy. However, with a slight lowering of his upper eyelids, Louis assured him. But only just this once. While it was fine for them to drink now, they wouldn't and shouldn't make a habit of it.

On the way back to the hideout, the group's silence was complete. Arashi made a remark about how the somber crew looked like a wet sack of kittens when they dragged their feet through the door of the emergency shelter. Yuito laughed it off, but he really did feel as terrible as she described. Of what had happened in Suoh, he said nothing about it. Nobody did. Perhaps they were all on the same page that news of what happened would soon get around anyway.

“Ah, damn it,” Yakumo said. His tone was resentful as he glowered at a chip in his blade. He'd noticed it while wiping the weapon down.

By this time, the group of six had already drifted their own ways: Yuito sat on one of the couches, staring down at his hands. Hanabi lay on the other couch, staring vacantly up at the ceiling. Haruka, Wataru, and Louis were huddled in a corner talking about some matter that required whispers and bouts of silence whenever someone came near or walked by.

“What's up,” Kagero asked. He stepped over to take a look. “Well, would you look at that.” He whistled. “Better get that fixed before it crumbles apart.”

Yakumo furrowed his brows, his discontent making itself plain in the lines forming on his forehead. “We gotta head back,” he soon said to Louis. “Oni Bane is in some serious need of TLC.”

Louis turned to him. Everyone's ears perked up.

“You're leaving?” Kyoka asked. She sounded at the same time disappointed and fascinated.

“Yeah.”

“You're returning to the Mists?” asked Yuito.

“Seems that way.”

Wataru's eyes lit right up, and a smile slowly stretched across his face. “You know, I've been really curious about this Gaol of the Mists,” he said; Haruka concurred.

“Actually,” Arashi added, “I'm curious too.”

From there it was a cascading effect. One by one, each of the psionics expressed their desire to see the revenants' home.

Louis was at first hesitant. He said nothing for a while. But then Yakumo gave his say on the matter, and that was when Louis dropped his thumb and forefinger from his chin, looked up at the eager, curious faces, and said, “I suppose it should be all right.”

And off they were. Even Kasane and Luka went with them. Which was odd because neither had expressed anything about wanting to tag along. So, it surprised Yuito when he realized they were trailing behind them. “You're coming too?” he said, his voice hitting that high note at the end one often makes when when a question is encompassed by confusion, incredulity, and a modicum of inadvertent officiousness.

Pointedly placing a hand on her hip, Kasane offered him and austere expression. The sharp angle of her elbow looking as if it could cut diamonds, or Yuito if he didn't mind his own. He shrank back a bit. “Is that a problem?” She asked.

“N-No. It's just that... I didn't think you and Luka wanted to come...” He whipped back around, having been chased away by her acidulated gaze. He said nothing further of the matter; Luka said nothing at all.

As they all came upon the great red wispy wall, the psionics stopped to gawk at the thick red mist. They never imagined that something like this existed, because they were oft forbidden to visit this area by decree of the New Himuka government. “The Unhabitable Zone.” That was what they called it. A place of unimaginable horror, lacking all the basic supports for life, including for that of Others, or so the story goes. Looking at the vastness of this wall, studying the swirling, crackling red clouds steeped in a power unfamiliar to him, Yuito now wondered if the government had known about the Gaol of the Mists all along, and he wondered if maybe they had sent specialists, researchers, physicists, and other variants of lab coats to study it in secret. It wouldn't surprise him, though he continued denying it.

“So, this is the Gaol of the Mists...” Wataru said, his eyes traveling the thing from left to right, top to bottom. It was a new phenomenon, so his stargazing could be forgiven. But, in all magnitude and grandiosity, it wasn't any more enthralling than the choppy, rainbow colored Other particles hovering in the skies above it.

The hole in the Mists had become much larger since Louis and Yakumo's first venture into the outside world. One could now peer straight through it and to the opposite side. It was worrying.

Suddenly, something caught Tsugumi's eyes. “Oh, look at this!” she said while kneeling, and everybody looked.

The revenants' eyes went wide. “What the hell...” Yakumo uttered.

“A mistle... outside the Gaol...” said Louis, just as incredulous.

It was just a plant... Yuito couldn't understand why it bothered them so much.

“That there is a mistle,” Louis answered when Yuito finally deigned to ask. “Their origins are a mystery, but they help keep the air clear of the miasma.”

“And... is that a bad thing?” Yuito asked.

“It is...” Louis said, his expression growing grim. “Because it’s germinating outside the Gaol of the Mists.” He sighed his resignation. It seemed Yuito was failing to catch on. “For now, let's just say it's likely correlated to the Lost wandering around Suoh as of late.” And now, Yuito understood.

“You called it a mistle before,” a mousy voice said. Tsugumi didn't turn to whom she was addressing, but somehow Louis knew it to be himself.

“That's right.”

“What exactly are they? This... is not like any plant I've ever seen before.” And Tsugumi was right.

The plant was unique. It glowed with an otherworldly luminescence, and little bits of this glow broke away from the plant and floated up, up, and up into the air like embers from a campfire.

“Again, not much is known about them. But we do know that they purge the miasma, a fog given off by the Lost. The miasma is dangerous to revenants and can speed up the metabolism of the BOR parasite, sending us into a frenzy.”

“It's also a place for us to re-materialize when we disperse,” Yakumo said. “So, in a sense, it's like a kind of life support for us revenants.” He offered an insouciant shrug.

As their conversations often do when odd information is thrown around casually, the group veered onto another topic — what did Yakumo mean by “disperse”? Well, Louis explained to them as succinctly as was possible, but his explanation only caused another question to sprout — if revenants are immortal, then why do they die? Louis, again, answered their question. He explained to them that revenants don't actually die, but rather are disassembled at a microscopic level by the BOR parasite whenever they incur severe injuries. It was a life preserving effort on the part of the BOR parasite.

Yuito found it difficult to wrap his head around all this stuff, which was why he was relieved when Yakumo and Louis eventually changed the subject. They stressed about needing to make it to their headquarters before nightfall, and they also warned their company that under no circumstances were they to touch the red mist.

So, the group trekked through the red mist and to the shattered remnants of a city. They marched on. The landscape, jagged, ragged, and torn asunder by a tragedy Yuito wasn't too well versed in — he only knew what the revenants had divulged — awed him in a petrifying yet alluring kind of way.

He especially took an interest in the large thorns, so eerily grand and haunting, that jutted from the buildings or ground. They had different colors beating inside them, like hearts inside the limbs of a thousand-tentacled monster. Of these colors, Yuito noted that yellow, blue, purple, red, pink, among others, all gathered in their own areas, never tangling for too long with other colored thorns.

Soon they arrived at the revenants' place of residence. From the outside, it looked like a gothic cathedral of sorts. But when they entered, they were met with an eclectic collection of knickknacks and memorabilia. A pool table was housed with the training equipment near the door they had entered through. A gumball dispenser, filled with waxy looking globes of varying colors, sat beside a jukebox. There was also a bar shelved with aged spirits, a vault with many weapons — swords, bayonets, and unwieldy hammers — and much, much more, the variety of which had Yuito's head swimming.

What Yuito noticed next as they crossed a large sheet of metal, was the nightmarish cracks all throughout the building. A few were large enough for a body to slip right through, much like the very one they had to cross over. It was a large scar so deep it seemingly had no end, and it made him dizzy when he peered into it. Others were small and shallow enough to only elicit minimal concern.

A slight girl seemingly made of the daintiest material the world had approached the group after emerging from the vault. It creaked open, and everyone's heads turned to her. She was cheery and of an outgoing personality as she jaunted forth and greeted Louis and Yakumo. She then asked who their friends were. Yakumo chuckled. He said, “Well... You see...” voice tremolo.

“They're from outside the Gaol of the Mists,” Louis said.

The girl gasped, and Yuito imagined her mouth hanging wide open behind that purifier mask of hers. (She had been working on a new project before they arrived, hammering away at a new weapon she called “The Biter.” So, she had to wear her purifier mask to keep the contaminants from the Lost that emanated from the metal with each strike of the smithing hammer at bay)

“Oh my gosh,” she said to Louis and Yakumo in such a way that it made them feel guilty for having kept this from her for all this time. “You never told me you've been outside the Gaol. How did you manage that?” She placed her hands on her hips. She didn't look it, but she was upset with them. They knew it.

Louis gave the abridged version of his discovery of the weakness in the mist. While he spoke, the girl nodded her head and bounced on her heels. Her fists were clenched and shaking at her chest. She was certainly a spunky one.

When Louis' surprisingly uncomplicated elucidation drew its last, the revenant girl could finally address the newcomers. She removed her purifier mask and offered a welcoming smile. “I'm Rin Murasame! But you can call me Murasame,” she said. And then in a barely contained whisper, “I can't believe I'm actually speaking with humans from outside the Gaol of the Mists.”

The psionics introduced themselves next. However, Hanabi and Yuito had to make a combined effort introduce Shiden because he was acting all weird, mumbling and stuff. All his usual bravado seemed to have spontaneously dried right up. This caught Kagero's attention.

Murasame giggled. It was a spirited, high-pitched series of noises. “It's nice to meet you all.” She stepped forward, all bright eyes. “So,” and she looked the psionics over, “you really are humans from outside the Gaol of the Mists, huh.”

“Though they're not the humans you and I are used to,” Yakumo said with a chuckle. He turned to the psionics with an expectant look.

“Oh... Uh... Yeah. We have psionic powers,” Yuito said when he noticed Yakumo's glance.

So, Yuito demonstrated, levitating the billiard balls off the pool table. They at first danced around in a chaotic state, flinging either to the left or to the right or clashing against one another. But once Yuito gained full control over them, they orbited helter skelter round and round an invisible force before being set back down. He earned himself a giddy giggle and a word of praise.

“That's impressive! I didn't know people could do stuff like that!” Murasame said after clapping.

“Well... usually they can't...” said Yakumo, tone inaudible. He scratched the back of his neck, crossed one leg over the other, and clasped his elbow with the palm of his other hand.

From there, a much lengthier exchange ensued — Murasame, naturally, wanted to know about the state of the outside world, wanted to know about psionic powers. The psionics spoke of the Others, the military protocol for dealing with these creatures, and some obscure information that flew right over her head, courtesy of the Frazer twins. By the time the conversation closed and Yakumo got around to asking Murasame to service his weapon, it was night. The only light remaining was the warm flickering of candlelight dancing feverishly on wicks.

After a relaxing dip in the hot spring out back, the psionics huddled on the balcony, with hair still wet, and stared up at the stars. The sky was surprisingly clear that night. (And it looked ever clearer with the fading of the red mists, which also seemed to have some strange effect on the Other particles hanging above it.)

Kagero sat at a table resembling a giant wooden spool that had been stripped bare of all its thread. His eyes were fixed intently on something. Tsugumi sat with him, facing her hands in her lap.

Not too far away from them, Hanabi sparked up a conversation with Yuito. It was a simple conversation, nothing too serious. Arashi and Kasane were nowhere to be seen. They'd gone off to explore the building. Luka, meanwhile, kept himself separate from everyone else. The Frazer twins were busy chewing the cud with Louis.

Not at any single given moment did Kagero's eyes leave that something he had them fixed on... And that something, or rather someone, was Shiden. The boy had been acting strange since they arrived, and Kagero was puzzling out why. Only when Murasame approached the boy, after having approached an uncomfortable-looking Luka for an attempted friendly chat, did Kagero finally piece the puzzle together.

Murasame asked if Shiden was all right, noting that he was distant from the others. Shiden stammered at her. The look on his face was like the look of a deer caught in headlights. And to the surprise of any curious, keen-eyed individuals with the name Kagero, he was actually attempting to be nice to her! Too nice... Way too nice.

From the boy's movement alone — his movements were rigid — and from the way he spoke — he spoke fast and with a voice a pitch higher than his usual — Kagero quickly surmised...

“Oho! Our boy Shiden is finally becoming a man,” the blonde said with a wink and a nod when Murasame was out of earshot.

“Sh-shut up!” Shiden screeched at him.

A dubious grin, probably the silliest grin the entire group's ever seen Kagero make, spread from ear to ear. They all knew what was coming. “Oh, come on, Shiden.” He stood and just as casually walked four or five steps toward the boy before slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Be honest. You got eyes for the revenant girl, don't you?”

The statement made Shiden jump in his arm. “I-I do not!”

And as if to prove something, Kagero looked away from the boy. “Oh, hey, Murasame! You forget something?”

Again, Shiden jumped. But this time his face turned bright purple and lowered.

He needed no further confirmation; Kagero just released the boy and laughed. “NO WAAAAY! You totally have the hots for her!” He guffawed at Shiden's expense. This was a boy who was usually brash, abrasive, and, more often than not, unpleasant to communicate with. But here he was, blushing and getting all tongue tied.

Realizing that he had been tricked, Shiden launched into a series of insults and expletives. He then stormed away while muttering to himself. Kagero, being Kagero, laughed as if this were all some big joke. He started singing a silly song about how Shiden was “totally in love.” It went something like this:

Big tough guy Shiden

Rugged and bold, destined to grow old alone

Grows a heart when he meets a pretty girl

He wants to kiss her

He wants to hug her

Maybe wants to have a baby with her

Because he's toooootallyyyyy in LOOOOOOOOOO-ooove!

In LOOOOOOOOOO-ooove!

This nonsensical song got Shiden to turn around one last time, and he said a few more unspeakable things before storming off for good. It was evident to Kagero by the veins bulging out of his forehead, the mistiness coming up from his eyes, and the way his voice quavered, wet and dry at the same time, that Shiden was embarrassed. This only served as further ammunition.

On the other hand, Kyoka and Gemma, the mature adults of the group, found concern elsewhere. They wished to give Shiden “the talk,” and as anyone would expect, Shiden didn't take too kindly to it and yelled at them when they approached him. While Gemma backed off, most likely due to him being dragged into this against his will when Kyoka had tugged his sleeve and whispered in his ear, Kyoka was determined to give Shiden the long and short of the birds and the bees. She trailed after Shiden, her voice fading and his, which begged her to leave him be, growing muffled the farther away they got from the group.

Kagero's teasing and guffaw soon trailed into a self-satisfied chuckle. His laughter only ceased fully when he was spurned by Tsugumi. “Kagero... that wasn't very nice,” she chided him.

“What?” He shrugged like the immature teenager he was acting like. “It's true; he likes her.”

“Yes... But you teased him about it. You went too far.”

Yuito, looking equally disappointed in Kagero, threw in his own thoughts as well. “I agree with Tsugumi. You shouldn't have teased him like that. So what if he likes Murasame. It's not that big a deal.”

“'Not that big a deal'?” Kagero couldn't believe what he was hearing. “SHIDEN is all googly eyed for Murasame. I'd say that's a pretty big deal!”

At this moment, Hanabi started fidgeting with her fingers, looking rather flustered. She then puffed out her cheeks, drew a deep breath, and blurted in the most shrill and angry voice she could muster, “It doesn't matter, Kagero. What you did is awful and cruel.”

“Not you too, Hanabi.” A look of mock disapproval fell on Kagero's face. “I mean, you of all people should know. Right?” With dramatic theatrics, he clutched his hands over his heart and winced. “A pierce from an arrow of love is intense, unforgiving even. So unforgiving. It's not black or white, cut or dry; and that's exactly why you haven't told Yuito yet —“

Hanabi shrieked. “Just stop talking!” Her panic drew Yuito's attention, and he wondered why her face was so red.

“Umm, tell me what?” he asked.

If he were any denser, he'd sink straight through to the earth's core...

“It's nothing!” Hanabi's voice came in, quick and shriller still.

That night, the psionics stayed at the revenats' stronghold. It was one of the more pleasant sleeps Yuito had had since joining the OSF. Sure he slept on a blanket pile with everyone else on the stone-hard floor because he failed to draw a winning straw to sleep on one of two leather couches — the winners, if you're at all curious, were Arashi and Haruka. Still, Yuito felt oddly at peace. That night, he lost himself in his thoughts, lying flat on his back, arms behind his head, face toward the ceiling.

Everyone was easygoing that night. Even Luka now spoke with Murasame as if they were old friends. Though he still seemed wary around the revenants. Yuito could tell by how the man's shoulders tensed now and then. His gaze returned to the height of the ceiling, and he drew a deep breath, the scent of dust from the blankets beneath him pricking at his nostrils.

A revelation came to him before his eyes grew heavy and he sucked in one last deep breath through his flared nose. His comrades and new friends made him feel at home. They were like a family, with ups and downs. They cared for each other, had their disagreements. It made him feel happy. It made him hopeful. With his eyes closed shut and his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, he fell into a soundless sleep.

Chapter Text

Finally all ready to go, the motley crew gathered around Murasame's weapons display, right beside what she liked to affectionately refer as her Temple of Smithing. They were well rested. But Yuito in particular was brimming with energy. He felt rejuvenated in a way he never had before, as if he had gotten a decade's worth of sleep in a single night!

There was just one problem...

Gemma sighed. Ten minutes had passed since he'd gone and reminded Arashi that she needed to get up. “Just five more minutes,” she mumbled from under her arm and blanket for the tenth time that morning. “She's not moving...” he said. He looked defeated.

“Maybe she fell back to sleep?” Hanabi replied hesitantly.

The exchange was short. However, it was still enough to activate mom mode™ in a certain someone. Kyoka straightened up, tossed her shoulders back, and responded like the hero they knew they needed. “I'll go wake her,” she reassured them. And off she marched. “Arashi! Arashi! You need to get up. Now. It's time to go.”

Even all this way away from home, in a place both new and strange, things remained the same. Yuito chortled at the thought. But as quickly as his amusement came, it left, replaced by the specter of an inquiry when Shiden stepped out from among the group. He looked fidgety.

Actually, he had been acting weird all morning, looking back on it now. He kept brushing away strands of brown wavy hair from his face when they all had been folding blankets to help put them away. Yuito specifically remembered him doing this because he had wondered if perhaps an annoying gnat was buzzing around his face.

Anyway, Shiden had mostly kept his gaze to the ground, and his eyes, which Yuito caught brief glimpses of as they flickered in the morning light, kept shifting to one side with an urgency that Yuito quite didn't understand at the time. But what these side glances had been, as he eventually deduced, were furtive glances in a certain direction toward a certain someone. Kagero's teasings from last night then came to mind.

Speaking of whom. Kagero was well invested in Shiden's motions. He watched with glee and pumped his clenched fist at the air as Shiden Ritter, the only and only, approached Murasame. At that moment, she was speaking with the other two revenants. But, quickly sensing the additional presence and being as keen on the situation as Yuito and Kagero were, Louis and Yakumo excused themselves from the conversation. Saying their goodbyes, they then coalesced with the psionics.

“Okay,” she said to them, a bit bemused by their abrupt behavioral change. “Take care then.” Then moments later when she noticed Shiden standing before her, she said: “Hi, Shiden. What's up? Do you need something?” She leaned against the counter before her. She distributed the brunt of her weight on the palms of her hands and offered up her undivided attention.

This affability of hers, which seemed to come so easily to her, was intimidating. At least to Shiden it was. He staggered for a second. Only a second. “Uh. Yeah...”

“Well?” Murasame asked when Shiden failed to say anything more.

Effectually, Shiden was snapped out of whatever trance he had been in, and he looked up from his feet sheepishly, because prior to this moment he seemed to have taken an interest in his shoes. Whatever he found so interesting about them in that moment, Yuito could not say. “So... uh... You make weapons. I think that's neat,” he said in his usual rough tone. It was obvious he was trying not to sound like that..

Murasame giggled, pleased as punch by his chosen topic. She reared away from the counter and rolled her head to one shoulder. Then she began going on and on about her beloved weapons.

Yuito was sure if she could have it her way she would talk about weapons and nothing else ever again. He noticed that about her. In fact, during the brief conversations he held with her, she would always brute force the topic of weapons if they ever strayed from it.

But Yakumo shared something with him last night before they'd all gone to bed. It was unsolicited, but it was also said in confidence and with trust. Yuito was heading off to the bathroom once he'd gotten directions from Louis, and Yakumo grasped him by his arm to ask what he thought about Murasame. Yuito, of course, said that she seemed kind, friendly... eager. He was very impressed with her as a personality. After listening for a time, Yakumo told Yuito of her past. Her prior life.

According to him, before Murasame was ripped from her eternal resting place and turned into a living weapon, she was a highly skilled gymnast — a gold medalist, to be exact. She had been in her prime and would have gone all the way to the top, the apex of apexes. Yakumo was sure of it and said as much. But she had died during the Great Collapse — she was one of the many who perished in that apocalyptic era.

A once proud competitor in the realm of physical sport, Murasame likely had dreams of her own and aspirations for achieving them. Now, all she had were weapons. So, Yuito could forgive her for wanting to talk about them any chance she got. Because it probably numbed her pain.

In spite of her troubles, she still had a certain light in her eye and such a gentle smile that punctuated her laughter that made Shiden weak in the knees. “I want you to make a weapon for me,” he said when he was finally able, because she could talk for miles on end, and it was hard for him to find a moment where he could speak without interrupting. Not that he minded. He actually quite liked that about her. But only her. “I'd really appreciate it if you would.”

“Oh?” Murasame tilted her head to her other shoulder. “Well, what do you have in mind?”

“I'd like something that suits me, something that enhances my power.” He didn't miss a beat. It was as if he'd been rehearsing this in his head for hours.

Here, she recalled their previous conversation from last night. “Your power is electrokinesis, right?”

Shiden confirmed this. He was quite overjoyed that she remembered.

“Okay then!” Murasame snapped her fingers and pointed a well-defined finger pistol his way. “And what about a design? Anything you want specifically?”

Now things were getting tough. He wasn't expecting her to ask questions after. “Guh... Uh... Anything's fine,” he practically blurted.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes.” He was starting to sweat.

Murasame smiled — a moment of vulnerability shared between a new customer and shop owner. “Okay. It may take a while, but I'll get started on that weapon right away. I'll leave the invoice with Louis and Yakumo.”

“Th-thank you!” His voice raised an octave and cracked in a way that made his two invested onlookers recoil with secondhand embarrassment. “I really appreciate this — I mean, I really, really do. Thank you. I really mean it. Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you...” He was rambling now...

In a moment of absentmindedness, eyes wide and glazed, he reached out to grab her hand. His fingers trembled, and his palms were so sweaty they glistened in the light. That was when Kagero knew to intervene. With one firm tug, he pulled Shiden away by the collar. “Thanks for entertaining him for us, Murasame. But we gotta go. Super important psionic stuff to do and all that,” he said while ushering the malfunctioning boy away. “We'll keep in touch. Trust me, we'll keep in touch. I want to see where this little thing between you goes.” He winked at her. “Ta-ta! Au revoir! Toodles!” And he scooted Shiden along as if he were rolling a dolly away.

Murasame blinking rapidly, staring off into the void, tried to puzzle out what on earth had just happened.

From the moment she awoke, Kasane felt herself nagged by a persistent feeling. It ate at her while she and her team carried out their mission and even after she and her team returned to HQ, whereupon she sat down to start a carving.

All she could think of was Naomi's voice, her laughter. She missed her sister terribly. And very soon, this feeling became too much for her to bear. Before she knew it, she was on her feet and walking toward the exit.

But before reaching the door, she paused. She noticed Luka sitting atop a box full of protein powder. A gift most likely given to him by one of their peers. He was lost in thought, and his little child-like legs kicked out in a stiff absentminded motion beneath him. The heels of his feet were striking against the cardboard box in a half cadence that was at once somber and ambivalent as he hunched over his knees. Despite how troubled he looked, Kasane concluded that his inner turmoil had nothing to do with her. She left.

There was a clear path to the Supernatural Life Research Facility. Kasane walked a long rough, jagged, and weathered road and passed many dilapidated buildings and signs. But no sooner than when she deigned to believe things were going smoothly did she finally run into trouble. Luckily, she hadn't been spotted. This gave her the chance to slip behind a vehicle to assess the situation.

She peered from behind the car and saw a horde of the Lost. They each held a weapon at attention and walked single file with their soles scuffing against the asphalt, leaving bits of sloughed-off flesh behind them.

But one, having caught her scent, fell out of step. It sniffed the air. Its mouth, which had rows of black, sharp, ugly teeth, exposed to decay ever since it had lost its mask, filled with slobber which trickled down its lips and chin. As its limbs jolted excitedly, the bones in them creaked and cracked.

Just as suddenly as the first, all the other Lost halted their marching. They began screeching and hollering. It looked as if they'd all gone mad. At length they each raised their weapons and dashed off toward what Kasane recognized to be a wandering group of Others.

Much like the oncoming Lost, the Others were an assortment of twisted figures. Rummis, Pools, Yawns, and what Kasane had nearly missed sight of amidst all the chaos, a lonesome Booger Sabbat. Perhaps the promising prospect of potential brains drew the Others into the area — those brains being from the Lost. Kasane could only guess.

The scene unfolded into an all-out war. From where she hid, she could see Other particles and — what was it called again? — foggy miasma litter the air as Other smote Lost and Lost smote Other.

The event was a blood fest. Limbs flew everywhere, headless Lost mindlessly swung about their swords before succumbing to their injuries, and Others were mauled by mobs of flesh-starved Lost.

The scene was like something straight out of a horror movie, like the ones Naomi used to talk her into seeing because she was too afraid to go by herself. Naomi never admitted it, of course. But Kasane always knew why. She noted how Naomi would jump, spilling popcorn all over the place. She noted how Naomi would cover her eyes. And whenever there was a suspenseful scene, like a monster or killer stalking an unaware victim, she would sometimes cling to Kasane as if for dear life, her teeth chattering fiercely inside her mouth.

Now was her chance. While the creatures were distracted with each other, Kasane could slip away undetected, and she did so like a tip-toeing specter.

She was careful, she was silent, and, most importantly, things looked to be in her favor. However, by pure chance, just when she thought she would make it past without incident, an Other spotted her.

The Booger Sabbat, the one Kasane had nearly missed before and the one that she failed to account for yet again, charged. As the Other reared its head and then tossed it low, her legs refused to move. She felt as if she were glued to the ground. By what, she could not say. Maybe fear?

The horde of warring creatures was sure to notice her being attacked. If and when that happened, she would be in for the fight of her life with no teammates to call on for backup or SAS employment. Luck just wasn't on her side today... Or was it?

A grotesque being surging with so much miasma that the substance oozed from it like thickly sweat appeared from out of nowhere, seemingly as if it had ridden on the wind. It struck the Booger Sabbat with one of its monstrous, jagged, metallic set of claws. They looked more like gauntlets melted into its flesh, but there was still something organic about them, as if the metal too, as much as its body, were made up of dividing cells.

The Greater Lost reeled back and loosed a whimpering gurgle — its hideous roar — upon the Other's destruction. It then proceeded to swing its weapon in a frenzy of madness, with no regard for what it struck. Other or Lost, it was a one-sided slaughter. The Greater Lost destroyed them all.

With the path now clear to the Supernatural Life Research Facility, Kasane rushed past the rampaging fiend. She had no thanks to offer the mindless brute; but she was grateful all the same for its fortuitous appearance. After all, it was only because of it she reached her destination without further delay.

Naomi stood to all fours when her sister entered the room. “You're back!” She said and trotted on over to her. ”How is everyone? Yuito, Nagi... Captain Seto?”

“Everyone is fine,” Kasane said in response. She was surprised to hear her sister ask about them, especially after all this time. “Yuito is still as obsessed with Baki as ever.”

Naomi chuckled. “You say that like it's a bad thing,” she teased.

“Nagi is still recovering—“

“Oh?” and here her countenance fell — if it could be said an Other has a countenance. “Was he... hurt?”

Kasane knew full well from the drop in Naomi's tone and quiver in her voice that what she was really asking was, “Was I the one who hurt him?” After all, she, upon her transformation into an Other, had attacked them. “No,” Kasane answered. “I heard he's in psychological rehabilitation.”

Naomi fell silent, and even without a human face to express human emotions, Kasane could tell she was dejected. She knew her sister well enough — both Naomi the human and Naomi the Other — to discern what she was thinking. Naomi was blaming herself for Nagi's current state. It was as plain as the Extinction Belt in the broad sky.

There was something about the red curtains partially covering the window that made the room look saturated with blood. It disquieted Kasane. Though the blood-like hue could also be attributed to the Other particles in the sky just as well. Still, she felt as if she were standing in it, in a pool, a large wet carpet of pure blood. The sun, which peered through the window, cast shadows past the curtains. These shadows were dark, like old, dried blood, creating giant masses, scabs, which imprisoned not only Naomi but Kasane. She felt as if the carpet would squelch if she took a step. She felt that if she moved the solid surface would break and she'd find herself fighting to keep her head above all this blood... all this ugly, needless blood.

“And what about Captain Seto?” she soon asked, snapping Kasane out of a trance.

Kasane hesitated, felt her organs shift as she pulled in on herself. How she wished she could make herself microscopic. How she wished she could hear nothing, see nothing, speak nothing... be nothing in that moment. “He...” Kasane paused and chewed her cheek. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Naomi. So, she lied. “He's doing fine.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. It was like her big, little white lie attracted ill omens. The room seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer, and the red blood grew redder and redder and darker and darker.

Finally, Naomi spoke. “You don't have to hide it from me,” she said. She lay down and sniffled. “I... I already know. Captain Seto is dead. I just wanted to confirm it.”

Heart lurching in her chest, Kasane asked how, how did she know.

“I heard it from my friend.”

Kasane now frowned, souring at the mentioning of him. “That man?”

“Yes...” Naomi answered hesitantly. She could sense her sister's distaste. “But... he didn't tell me about Nagi. I guess he didn't know about it.”

Kasane was glad she had this now to distract her from her unease. Anyway, she'd been wanting to say something about this man for a while; she'd held onto her gripes about him for long enough. “You should be careful around him. You don't know what he wants. You don't even know his name. It's suspicious.”

Naomi chortled and almost seemed glad to hear Kasane say this for some reason. Perplexing. “Thank you, Kasane,” she said. “Ever since I became an Other, you have always treated me as if I were still a human. You don't flinch at me like the researchers do, and you don't keep your distance from me. You're not repulsed by me, you don't threaten to tranquilize me if I complain, you... you're always here for me, Kasane, and it... it really means a lot to me.” She lowered her head and sniffled.

Stepping forward, Kasane reached out to touch her sister. Oddly enough, her sister was the one who flinched, who recoiled. But Kasane did not realize. And before she knew it, she was touching Naomi with a comforting hand. She looked up at the two faces and smiled. “Of course,” she said. “I'll always be here for you. No matter what.” She stroked her sister's arm. It was veiny, rough, nothing at all like the soft, supple skin she had before. “We're sisters,” she said, now placing a second hand on the giant arm before her.

Naomi trembled. She was afraid she would hurt Kasane if she got any closer. But once she felt that familiar warmth, that familiar sisterly love, she relaxed. Kasane then rested her cheek against the giant arm, and Naomi returned her gentle embrace.

A sea of undulating colors as restless as choppy, turbid waters hung above a dilapidated city and fractured neon visions. As ever, it looked disquieting and remained unquelled even by moderate weather. The temperature was nice that day. Mild. Not that Kasane or her teammates had noticed. They were too busy carrying out the order given by Major General Fubuki.

Oddly, when he had called them, he seemed in quite the hurry to get off the communication line, something Haruka brought to all of their attention. It was enough to even have Arashi concerned. She, being herself, however, brushed it off eventually and chalked it up to him being a workaholic. “Eughhh!” she retched at just the thought of it and went back to slacking off.

Kagero, Hanabi, Tsugumi, Kyoka, and Gemma comprised their team. (And of course Kasane.) And at one time, they all happened to cross paths with Louis and Yakumo. Both men, as they soon found out, were on their own mission. It was given to them by none other than Chief Kaito himself.

“What do you know. It is a small world after all,” Yakumo quipped.

“Yakumo, is that you?” Kagero said, squinting as if the revenant were a speck on the horizon.

“Live and in the flesh.”

Kagero fluttered his lashes like a young girl swooning over her lover. “I always knew fate would bring us back together.”

“It always does,” Yakumo replied. He wore a dopey, over-exaggerated smile, one that made light of the mien of a dashing fellow come to reunite with his long-lost love. The two then burst into laughter, each earning a sigh from Tsugumi and an eye roll from Hanabi.

They always had this uncanny ability to play off the other's humor. It was something they did often. But most of the group ignored their antics, except Hanabi and Tsugumi, who were the least impressed by their tasteless humor.

“What are you two doing here?” Gemma asked the revenants.

“I could ask you the same,” said Louis. “Am I to assume you're on a mission of your own?”

“Yes.” It was Kyoka who answered, but it was ultimately Kasane who explained what their mission was.

Apparently, the psionics were sent to this area to slay Others; the usual. Likewise, Louis explained, the two revenants were dispatched to the area to slay a Greater Lost on the loose that some OSF members had spotted. “We're here to disperse it,” he explained plainly.

Thankfully, there were no drones following the revenants around this time, and so they could all speak freely.

Gemma suddenly hummed to himself, sounding equally confused and curious. “You know, I realize there have been more Lost around lately. Each time you take them down, they just come back in greater numbers.

“I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't help thinking what this means for the Other Suppression and National Defense Forces. Not only are the increasing numbers of the Lost becoming an issue, but the Others seem to be... I dunno... More agitated lately? Sooner or later, they'll have to consider restructuring the military.”

“The Others have certainly been more aggressive lately,” Kyoka confirmed.

“That could likely be due to the Lost and Others sharing the same food source,” Louis openly theorized.

Kagero groaned. “Boy, us humans just can't catch a break can we. Will we ever be on top of the food chain?”

“I wonder,” Yakumo said, looking all serious. “Are Others even edible? You know, I actually realize I haven't even tried roast Lost before. Wonder what that tastes like.” A sudden smile spread across his face. It was such a stupid grin that made Hanabi roll her eyes again.

“I dunno. Maybe you can catch one and cook it,” Kagero replied. “Tell me how it goes.”

Yakumo gasped as if affronted by Kagero's words. “What? You mean you won't help? I thought we could share the moment. You know, something special to bond over.”

Kagero laughed. He wafted limp-wristed at the air as if shooing a fly away. “Hell no.” He feigned indignation. “I may be a fool, but have you seen my face? I am much too good looking to put my neck on the line for something like that.”

“And you want me to put my neck out because..?”

“Because you love me, silly!”

Yakumo scoffed in rebuttal.

Hanabi had had enough with their antics; plus, her eyes were starting to hurt. “Can we get serious, please,” she pleaded with them.

Gemma picked up where he left off. “Louis and Yakumo are strong for sure. But I think the growing number of Lost and the Others will be too much for them to handle on their own soon.”

It was a statement both revenants resented. But they knew Gemma was right. It would be impractical for things to stay as is...

The situation was changing more every day. Hordes of Lost now gathered around the city periphery and, in turn, their presence drew in the Others. Sometimes Major others or Greater Lost would appear rabid with hunger, and the NDF, OSF, and the two revenants would all be dispatched to handle them. So, restructuring the military for this rising threat level wasn't a matter of if; it was a matter of when.

There was also still the mystery as to why Louis and Yakumo had been grafted into the New Himuka's military in the first place, and with such little fanfare. Though they all had their suspicions... They just had yet to confirm them, if what Arashi had said before was true.

“Then,” Gemma spoke on, more thoughtful now, “there's that strange dust that's been floating around...” He crossed his arms. His face became a chiseled shelf for all his worries.

“You mean the miasma?” said Louis.

“And there's this strange sickness going around too,” Gemma added gravely.

“Oh. I think I heard something about that. The government is all hush-hush about it. But you know how the crows are.” Kagero offered a shrug, resigned. “I heard there's an underground quarantine facility somewhere.”

“Underground...?!” Hanabi gasped.

“First time I'm hearing about this,” said Gemma with a healthy dose of skepticism.

Again, Kagero raised a shoulder. “It might not even be real. Just rumors, you know.”

“Well,” Gemma placed a hand on the hip, now seemingly warming up to the idea of possible government shady business. It wasn't too farfetched given what's already happened. “There has to be some truth to it. Actually, now that I think about it...last week Kyoka and I found someone slumped against a wall in broad daylight. He was in terrible shape...”

Kyoka's face pinched up. “Oh, that poor man. He could hardly even stand. We tried to help him but some people in yellow and white suits came and took him away.”

Here, a pensive crease formed in Gemma's brow. “Something was really weird about him too... He had this strange — I dunno — rash. Like... Like something was eating away at him.” He stopped to consider his following words. “It's hard to describe it, but it was like something was there but not there at the same time. Like, an invisible rash or something.”

He expected the weird looks. What he was describing sounded more like something a grade schooler would make up to get a rise out of his friends. But Gemma was being honest, and that was evident in how he turned to Kyoka for confirmation. Right on cue, she took up where he left off.

“It's true. And it was so strange.” She offered them all a solemn nod. “He had the usual indicators of ill health, of course. Fever. Chills. Delirium... but that rash... It was like something was emanating from him, barely perceivable. It made every hair on my body stand on end.”

Finally, Louis shook his head. They were making the wrong assumptions. It was time he set them straight. “The miasma doesn't make humans sick. I assure you. While it does rot through metals and send revenants into a frenzy, it lacks the capability to affect humans.” But his words only drew disbelief from everyone. All except Yakumo. “I know it may seem like it, but the timing of this sickness purely coincidence. There must be another cause.”

“Then what could be making people sick?” Hanabi pressed an anxious hand to her heart.

Kasane was the one to answer, much to Louis' relief. “Speculation won't get us anywhere,” she said. Up until that point she had been quiet, mostly ruminating on what they were saying. The miasma, Lost, Others, and all the other strange happenings... They were hardly even scratching at the surface of it all. “We need more information.”

She was right naturally, and Louis couldn't agree more. He expressed it was best to let sleeping dogs lie for now. At least until they had more to go on. Otherwise, they risk creating more confusion and misunderstandings for themselves at the added expense of stirring up conflict with the New Himuka government. “The truth will come to us so long as we know where to look for signs,” he sagely reassured them.

So, that was the end of that. Though Gemma, Kyoka, and Hanabi seemed to be stuck on the subject, all waiting to see if anyone would bring it up again — they cast out glances, seeking mirrors in which to validate their reasons for wanting to broach the topic again. But nobody said anything.

“Oh!” Tsugumi soon blurted, breaking the silence that had since settled among them. Her sudden outburst was startling. “Yakumo, I need you to escort me to the Gaol of the Mists.”

“Hmm. Why's that?” he asked.

“I...” And she hesitated, played with her hair. “I want to try cultivating the mistle.”

Simultaneously, Yakumo's eyes went wide and Louis' mouth fell agape. They loathed to tell her, but the mistles could not be cultivated. “They're not typical plants,” Louis explained to her.

“I know; that's why I need to study them.”

Yakumo scratched the back of his neck, looking all but uncomfortable. His pleading gaze not long after flicked up from the ground and at Kagero, effectively tagging him in for what was certainly going to be an uphill battle.

The blonde sighed. Of course he had to be the bad guy. “Nope. Too dangerous,” he said to Tsugumi.

She gasped and darted her little shattered glassy eyes to him. The look on her face was one of a child having been told no by a parent. And given their relationship, such a metaphor wasn't far off. “But Kagero,” she attempted to persuade him. But Kagero stayed steadfast.

“Not up for discussion.”

“Maybe I can bring back a mistle for you?” suggested Yakumo.

But Tsugumi was adamant. She absolutely had to study the mistle in its natural habitat. The scientifically driven Louis understood this all too well. He appreciated where she was coming from. Yet Kagero dissented. “Absolutely not,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a stern shake of his head.

Quickly growing exasperated with him, Tsugumi returned her sights to Yakumo. Her only hope. “Please,” she said to him, “it's very important.”

It should be noted that, over the course of the revenants' integration with the psionics, Yakumo developed a soft spot for the girl... He'd come to think of her almost like a niece...

He knew her love for plants was serious, personal even... Really, all she wanted was to make new plant friends... And he couldn't bear to make her upset. But then there was Kagero... he'd never let him live it down if he gave in to her so easily.

Between a rock and a hard place, Yakumo's eyes darted back and forth. He was bound to let one of them down. But who?

Tsugumi sniffled. It alone shifted something inside Yakumo. After what hardly seemed like the blink of an eye, he threw his head back and clapped his hand over his face. “Sure, of course,” he groaned, sounding at once abashed and relieved.

Tsugumi wasn't one for tugging at heartstrings, and yes, that sniffle was an awful stunt to pull and perhaps too dramatic for her tastes. She wouldn't deny it. But seeing this plant for herself was, as she stated before, very important. It was her top priority, in fact.

Also, she hated losing...

Kagero shook his head. “Man, you actually, really caved,” he said, more amused than upset. Though he did seem disappointed. But not disappointed enough to not take some fun jabs at the revenant.

Yakumo groaned again.

A thin smile formed across Tsugumi's face. “I also want to visit a Blood Spring,” she said.

“Now you're pushing it,” Yakumo growled, head still tilted back and hand still over his face.

“But... I have to study the Blood Springs too... For you and Louis,” she said in response, shrinking in on herself, becoming sheepish, and fiddling with her fingers.

A touching gesture. She explained that she wanted to study the mistle and blood springs so that Yakumo and Louis had a stable food source, rather than the blood pack ration they got from the military. They never drank them anyway, which meant they were frequently returning to the Gaol of the Mists to stock up on blood beads. If Tsugumi could find a way to cultivate them, then the revenants wouldn't have to leave so often.

Louis and Yakumo were nearly moved to tears by the sentiment. They were grateful to her and thanked her for the warm gesture. It made them feel like they were truly starting to assimilate into this new world outside the Gaol.

Yuito clutched at his throbbing head as a fresh wave of nausea rushed through his being. He sat on the couch relatively motionless and only moved to adjust himself ever so slightly when either of his legs fell asleep or his bottom went sore. It wasn't long before he was groaning in pain.

If his grimacing and jaw clenching weren't indications enough, then these noises of his were certainly a cause for concern, and Kasane was finally urged to say something. “You should see a doctor if you're in so much pain.” She faced him, expressionless, from where she sat on the couch over to his right.

Hanabi was sitting across from her. She had been casting worried glances in Yuito's direction this whole time. “She's right, Yuito. These headaches of yours...” she said, recalling the other times she'd caught him staggering or clutching his head, or both, when he thought no one was looking.

Of course, Yuito usually played them off when Hanabi rushed to his side, asking if he was okay. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden. Everyone else was so capable, and he wanted to be no different.

However, these headaches of his were becoming more frequent and intense, and they were lasting longer too. This was what worried her.

Hanabi's brows drew together. “You need to get these headaches checked out.” Her voice was very stern, and her eyes looked as if they would set him ablaze.

Casting his attention between the two faces, one a pragmatic stone and the other like a warm beacon of light, Yuito considered it. At first, he was resistant to the idea — it was written all over his face, because he certainly wouldn't say it aloud. Not to these two. But then both girls leaned toward him, one looking as if she would chew him out and the other looking as if she were about to snatch him up by the nape of his neck and drag his behind off to the OSF hospital.

What was he to say? That they were “just headaches,” “not a big deal,” or worse... that they “don't really bother him that much anyway.” Lies. He signed resignedly. Besides, he didn't want to get on either of their bad side.

It took a few more seconds that usual for Yuito to get on to his feet, but when he did, the floor spontaneously dropped from under him and the room started spinning. By the time Hanabi rushed to help him, he was seeing stars behind his eyelids.

He knew the drill; he slung an arm around her shoulders to keep himself from keeling over or crashing headfirst into the coffee table. Fresh waves of splitting pain rippled through his head and to his ears, eyes, and sinuses. It was a pain so bad he could nearly taste it. His mouth fill with saliva, and his stomach started performing somersaults. His feet felt as if they were hovering on air. He felt the absolute worst.

The last thing he wanted was to hurl on his childhood friend, especially when she was going out of her way to be so helpful, so held his breath. But all this ultimately accomplished was making him dizzy and, by proxy, even more nauseous. He swooned and groaned, quickly becoming dead weight in the girl's arms. She did her best not to topple over with him.

Legs bowing underneath both her own and Yuito's weight, she called for Gemma and the revenants. In came each reliable man not even second later, pulling themselves either away from stimulating conversation, exercise, or mental relaxation.

“What's going on?” Gemma asked dutifully, and Hanabi explained. Though she didn't go in depth.

All they knew was that Yuito wasn't feeling well and that he needed to see a doctor ASAP. So, Gemma took the partially limp body away from her and followed her lead. Later, he would lend him over to Louis, and from Louis to Yakumo, on the way to the OSF hospital. Teamwork was of the essence, after all, especially in crucial situations like these. They left immediately.

While they trudged ahead, Kasane followed them from behind. When asked about it, because they each knew how she was — because she certainly wasn't the type to care about anyone who hadn't the name Naomi Randall — she gave them some excuse about how they were a team and some other things about the importance of support and whatnot. But really... she was only tagging along because of Naomi's crush on Yuito.

If anything were to happen to him, her sister would be devastated. So Kasane went along to ensure his safety. And it wasn't because of a lack of dependability on Gemma's or Louis' and Yakumo's part either. They just didn't happen to have a special interest in keeping Yuito alive and well, is all. At least not to the same extent as that of hers, her attempts to kill Yuito put aside.

Kasane remained at a distance behind them. She scanned the surrounding area with her throwing knives at the ready. They floated about her like angry wasps awaiting an order from their queen.

One huge perk of being in the OSF was how quickly Yuito was seen by the next available doctor. They had barely arrived when a man in a white coat came from out of his room, asked them what the matter was, and then ushered Yuito back into his room with the gentlest of nudges.

Hanabi could finally exhale in relief; he was in excellent hands now. “I'm so glad he's getting the help he needs...” There was something so innocent, so sweet about her voice and how she whispered under his name under her breath.

It was enough to draw Kasane's attention. And of course it did. Kasane was hardly a stone's throw away. “You know, your attention to detail is admirable,” she complimented the girl.

Hanabi, wondering why she would say this, just looked at her and blinked twice, thrice. Then she said, "Oh... um... Thanks?”

A perplexing reaction. Kasane thought that perhaps some kind of context was missing, so she quickly changed course to add it. Though she proceeded with caution. “You just seemed to know what was going on with Yuito, that's all. You knew about his headaches before, didn't you?”

“Oh... umm...” Hanabi's cheeks flushed red. “I mean, he and I are childhood friends. It would be weird if I didn't know that much about him.”

Something was off in this response. It gave Kasane pause. She studied Hanabi, trying to piece something opaque together. The brunette's change in inflection was quite the giveaway. The way she placed her hands behind her back, to keep from fidgeting, was also a good indicator. Kasane was sure; she'd witnessed similar symptoms before, maybe even at one point displayed them herself... “You like him, don't you?” she finally said, so matter of fact that at first Hanabi hardly registered what she'd said.

In a delayed reaction, Hanabi nearly jumped ten feet high. In a state of frenzy, she then lunged forward and grasped the other girl by her shoulders. “Why? Who told you? Does anybody else know? I mean...” She then withdrew and turned away from her. After clearing her throat, she continued, much calmer. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

But it was far too late to try hiding it now, and honestly, now that Kasane was thinking back on it, the signs were always there. “Nobody told me; my sister likes him too. You and her aren't great at hiding it exactly,” she said.

Hanabi shrunk inward, becoming a smaller version of herself, one that was pitiable enough to make Kasane pull a face. “Is it really that obvious?” A note of embarrassment rasped at her throat.

Kasane nodded. Barring the fact that she herself was quite aloof, Hanabi's crush was indeed obvious to anyone paying attention.

Learning this, Hanabi beat her forehead with the side of her fist — three soft raps — and offered herself the self-deprecation she felt she so deserved.“Careless... Useless... Stupid... Idiot —“ just a flurry of loosely connected insults at herself.

But Kasane assured her everything was fine. It wasn't the end of the world because nobody else realized Hanabi's little crush on Yuito. Though Kasane had to admit she didn't get what Hanabi or Naomi saw in the boy anyway. The other girl soured at the statement.

Kasane always thought of Yuito as average at best. Sure, he was kind. But he wasn't very masculine when she got to thinking about it. A love of cooking, cleaning, sewing, and keeping house wasn't exactly the pinnacle of manhood. At least not that she knew of. Unless she was missing something. Then again, he already had two girls pining after him, and that made her wonder if these were actually perhaps the things young girls found attractive in a potential partner. She certainly didn’t believe so.

Hearing all this, such slights against her darling Yuito, Hanabi drew in one great breath. But she didn't stop. She kept sucking in air and sucking in more air and sucking in even more air in one long, wide-eyed gasp. Maybe I should have kept my opinion to myself. Kasane felt bad. But all she had really said, in a nutshell, was that Yuito wasn't all that impressive. Surely that wasn't a bad thing to say because, at least in her eyes, it was true.

Still, Kasane considered taking it all back, if just to make her feel better, and would have if not for Gemma entering the conversation.

“I admit, I really don't get all this romance stuff,” he said, confusedly rubbing at the base of his head.

And finally, Hanabi exhaled. Actually, she rather shrieked. But at least it was more than just infinitely sucking in air.

Poor Hanabi was trembling, babbling, and swaying like cloth in the wind. Would she even make it back to the hideout? Kasane wondered. Maybe we should leave her here overnight... Just in case.

Yakumo and Louis, who were just an earshot away, also had their own two opinions on the matter and took Gemma's statement as an invitation to share them. First, Yakumo offered Hanabi a suggestion: “You know, you should just tell him that you like him.”

But Louis disagreed. “No. No. That's too much too soon.”

“What do you mean 'too much too soon'?” Yakumo crossed his arms, reared back, and issued a challenging look. “She's young. She should live a little. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's what they say, right?”

Louis practically tutted at Yakumo in reply but instead sucked his teeth. “She should first have a plan.”

“Plan? For what exactly. She's a teenaged girl in love. That's not something you plan for.”

“She,” a dignified Louis replied, “has to plan the words she will say, how to say them, account for appropriate timing... She also must prepare herself for rejection.” He lowered his head with a solemn expression.

Yakumo gawked, jaw dropped. He started saying something but stopped suddenly to rub his forehead with his fingers. He pressed so hard into his brow that he created fine lines above them that took a few seconds to fade away. “Okay, let's say that that is the case... he rejects her. So what? That's part of growing up.”

“And...” Louis spoke on, his tone acerbic, as if he were just rudely interrupted. “She needs to mentally prepare herself for the possibility of that rejection.”

“What the hell would she need to 'prepare' herself for that for?!”

Still fully dignified, Louis answered, “It's best that she takes the more scientific approach and learn something valuable from this, not take haphazard actions like you suggest. Furthermore, she should use these lessons to prepare for adulthood.”

And finally, Yakumo snapped. “Why are you complicating this, Louis?! She only needs to tell him. That's it! If he says no, bummer. If he says yes, jack pot. That's all there is to it.”

Louis shook his head. He seemed ready to share more of his disapproval with his completely wrong friend — at least by his standards. By this point, all this talk and arguing about her asking out Yuito and all these likely outcomes — the good, the bad, and the horrendous — Hanabi had since somehow willed her soul out of her body so that she didn't have to listen to this anymore. She might have to stay overnight after all, thought Kasane. She's deteriorating...

Gemma spoke again when Yakumo and Louis' debate fell into a staring contest. They had looked so affronted by the other and so tense that he at first hesitated. But soon he cleared his throat and continued on with his previous musings. “You know, Yuito always means well. He's outgoing, generous, and is always cheerful. He's a great guy — really.

“I may not understand this whole young love thing, but I think I get it.” He paused a moment, crossed his arms, and hung his contemplative head. “However, knowing what I know now about Hanabi and her — her... 'crush', was it? I also can't help but think — I dunno — that maybe he's also completely clueless...” He scrunched his brows as if he were trying to puzzle out if cluelessness was part of the whole “romance thing” too.

Alone, this statement brought Louis and Yakumo back into agreement, resonating with them in a way that seemed to completely erase their fallout from just seconds ago. They both nodded.

“No argument there. Totally clueless, that one,” one said.

“It's no doubt true. Very regrettable,” said the other.

There was no reason to think. No reason to mull it over. Like someone who is allergic to bees being stung by one and swelling up to the point of needing medical intervention, Yuito was dense. And perhaps maybe that wasn't his fault. But Hanabi practically had a neon vision above her head with arrows pointing directly to the heart on her sleeve. “I Hanabi Ichijo have feelings for you, Yuito,” was practically written all over her whenever she interacted with him. He didn't even know Naomi felt the same way, despite her not being nearly as subtle as Hanabi.

With one final nod of certainty, Kasane quickly echoed their sentiments: “Much too clueless.”

Chapter Text

The day is now long in the tooth. Just about every OSF mission is wrapped up. The air is still. Calm. There is chatter in the workout room and little giggles from the living room making their way into the kitchen.

The door to the shelter opens. Then it shuts. Then there's quiet.

Wataru, self contained to the kitchen as he always is, whips out his notepad and looks over its contents. His brow goes pensive as he flips one page up. His lips purse as he flips it back down. Now he's flipping it back up again while fishing out a pencil from one of his pockets — its eraser end is chewed into a wad. He erases something. Then he writes. He refers to psynet in between this continuous push and pull dance of writing and erasing.

“What do you suppose he's doing?” Luka asks.

“I don't know,” Kasane says. She's peering through the wall cutout and into the kitchen. Luka is too short to see through it from where he stands, though he is standing on his tippy toes, and on top of a stack of weights, as if it will help — it doesn't. “It looks like he's writing something,” she continues.

“In that notebook, you mean?”

Kasane hums an affirmative. A serious look falls on her face as Luka falls back on his heels.

“Do you think he is re-evaluating the data he's gathered on the revenants?” Luka asks, looking up at Kasane and cocking his head to one side.

“We should take a closer look...” is Kasane's non-answer.

Now peering from around the kitchen doorway, Luka's head far below Kasane's, the two looking like out of place hairy bobs on a bare Newton's Cradle sitting sideways, the duo watch on with stoic silence. Kasane narrows her eyes when she sees Wataru scrunch his face only for him to make an “aha!” expression before scribbling something into his notepad.

“That must be quite the revelation...” Luka states darkly.

“Must be...”

“Kasane...” Luka hesitates before continuing on. “How do you feel about... you know.”

“Yakumo and Louis, you mean?”

“Ah... Yes.”

“I don't trust them. And I can't shake the feeling that they're a threat...”

Luka gasps as if she's said something revolutionary. “So you think they are still hiding something too.”

“Could be,” Kasane answers coolly. “If they are are, it has to be in that notebook.” Her eyes lock in on Wataru's right hand, which is now tapping the chewed up eraser against his bottom lip, and on his other hand, which seems to be subconsciously gripping harder and harder at the notepad.

Again Wataru makes the same “aha!” face as before, before thinking better of it and tucking the eraser between his top and bottom teeth. He frowns down at the notepad.

“Maybe we should...” Luka stops himself, but Kasane, surprisingly, wants to hear it. So Luka tells her.

“Yeah, I think we should too,” Kasane says when Luka is done speaking. She pauses, looks down at Luka before raising her gaze to Wataru again. “Okay. Follow my lead,” she says softly.

Kasane swaggers into the kitchen with Luka not too far behind — the latter with a bright boyish smile on his face. Hearing them enter, Wataru looks up and seems taken aback for some reason. How rude!

“Oh. You didn't leave with the others?” he asks, sounding (reservedly) disappointed.

“No,” Luka says with a smile. He giggles. “Of course not.”

“Ooooookaaaaay...” Wataru purses his lips and dips his head to one side. His gaze shifts to Kasane. “Well, if I'm in your way, I can just go to another room... or something...”

“No!” Kasane blurts as her eyes, for the briefest of moments, flicker down to the notepad in his hand as he goes to set it on the counter behind himself. “That won't be necessary,” she says while stepping toward the kitchen doorway to block his exit.

She is certainly not subtle about her and Luka's intention because Wataru now hides the darn thing behind his back instead. His eyes narrow on the conspiratorial duo. “What are you two really here for?” he asks them.

And the masks come off. “Give us that notebook,” Kasane demands.

“What? No.”

Luka chimes in while taking a step around the table, further boxing Wataru in. “You know something about the revenants, don't you? You're hiding something from all of us. You're no better than they are!” Luka pauses but holds his ground when it looks like Wataru is about to bolt.

“Wh-what are you talking about?!”

“We know about your notes.” Kasane looks down her nose at him.

“You-you do?” A brush of red spreads across Wataru's cheeks. He looks as if he's been caught with his pants down.

“YES!” Luka replies, sounding very, very, very serious — and somewhat confused by Wataru's reaction, but they carry on regardless. “We know what you have been writing about and we want to see it for ourselves.”

“W-what are we talking about? The revenants or —“

“DON'T change the subject!” Kasane snaps, levitating a chair just over his head.

Wataru looks up when he sees, and feels, the shadow of the object overtaking him. When he spots it she clutches the notepad to his chest with both hands if it were precious pearls. “No. Th-this is my personal property. You can't see it. That would be a total violation of my privacy! There's not a threat on this earth — not even the Others! — that can make me hand over this book.”

“Why not?” Luka says. It's more of an accusation than a question, and Wataru responds accordingly.

“B-because it's mine!”

“But there are secrets in there you are hiding from us!”

“Yeah? And so what? I have my rights, you know.”

“Luka,” Kasane issues a snap command.

But before Luka can teleport and snatch the notepad away, lazy Arashi comes waltzing into the room, a huge yawn on her face. She pats at it before closing her mouth and stretching. “What's going on here?” she asks as if she's been disturbed. But she doesn't really particularly look interested in knowing.

Wataru is relieved to see her, and in his relief he slowly drops the notepad from his chest as he allows his hands to fall back to his sides. “Oh. Good, Arashi. Can you please tell them—“

Frrrwwwwwssssssttthum! Just like that the notebook is gone from his hand and Luka is now holding... nothing. He's holding nothing. He blinks twice at his empty fingers, curled in on each other where the notepad should be. Then he hears pages turning beside him and he looks to see Arashi parsing through Wataru's notes.

She whistles to herself. Not in a way that suggests interest, but in a way that suggests... a kind of mild displeasure. She stops at a certain page and begins reciting it, deadpan. “ 'You know that you are the only one for me.' A/N This is after Ka—“

Wataru screeches. Actually screeches, like a little girl who's seen something vile and gross. His voice cracks as he speaks. “This is a total violation of my privacy! You can't do this! You can't read it! I didn't give you permission!”

Kasane cocks a brow, and if she wasn't confused before she is now. Luka is much the same. “Wait... I don't get it,” she says.

“It's not for you to get. That notepad is very important to me! Very private! It's not for...”

While he's barking and whining at the trio, Arashi is still undressing his notes with her eyes. Her hand is now on her face, thumb pinching the cheek opposite of her fingers, hand covering her mouth until she finally speaks. “Why does this sound familiar...” She thinks and thinks and thinks. Then the answer comes to her like a lightning bolt from the sky. “OSF fan fiction...” she says dryly.

“What's that?” Luka asks as the room falls silent.

Arashi waves the notepad at them all nonchalant like. “That's what this is.”

Mortified, Wataru, ignoring object permanence, dives straight across the table from where he's standing. “STOP!” he cries, and Arashi moves aside as his body just barely grazes hers when he falls face first to the floor.

Face clapped red and nose now bleeding, Wataru stands to snatch the notepad from her. But Arashi has the superior power in this instance. He can not even touch the wind trail she leaves behind whenever she snatches her hand out of his reaching grasp. Wataru ends up looking like he's trying to swat a fly buzzing around her.

Kasane and Luka, still very much confused, ask what this “fan fiction” stuff is.

“Is it top secret documents stolen from the government?” Luka asks with wide eyes.

“Is it some kind of hit list?” Kasane asks, quirking her brow once more. Her hip dips to one side.

Wataru, unable to take their slander, turns to them and furrows his brows furiously. “JUST WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” he indignantly howls.

Kasane and Luka exchange glances before they tell Wataru to explain what it is they should take him for. By this point neither know what to think of this whole thing. Fan fictions don't sound all that bad if they're not stolen government documents or a hit list or some other secret that Kasane and Luka are still burning to know.

“It's a whole lot worse,” Arashi says, deviously fanning the flames to a fire poor Wataru just wants to snuff out. He glares at her from over his shoulder. “A fan fiction is a work that seeks to capture characters from other intellectual properties, and also famous people, in non-canon scenarios... For self-indulgent pleasures.”

“Self... indulgent pleasures?” Kasane asks warily as Luka blushes. Those words sound way to scandalous together.

Arashi nods slowly as if she's imparting some forbidden knowledge on them. She jerks back her hand again when Wataru whips around to try and take back his notepad. “And I think I know just what these specific notes remind me of.”

“Luka gulps. “W-what does it remind you of?” He hides behind Kasane and sticks his fingers into his ears. Enough to hear what Arashi is about to say but also enough to tune her out, with just a teensy adjustment, if he concludes the information is too debauch for him.

“OSF_fan@tic...” Arashi says gravely.

Wataru gasps at that. His eyes go wide with horror then narrow with suspicion and minor reservations. He draws a deep breath, rears his head back some, stares Arashi in the eyes, and asks, “Wait. How do you know that name?”

“Oho. Touched a nerve, did I?”

Wataru repeats himself, this time sterner. “How. Do. You. Know —“ and he is cut off by diabolical laughter. It's like shuddering thunder. Evil. Wicked. Jeering.

Arashi slams her fists to her hips, stamps her feet out to her sides, and plays a villainous grin on her face. As she becomes all sharp angles and biting mockery, Wataru takes a fearful step back. “Because,” she says like some Shogunate ready to slaughter all who oppose him, but not without allowing them a few precious moments of life to listen to a long-winded monologue. Her eyes spark and a flame follows after, consuming Wataru's image in her eyes. “I AM BunniehopAIova-U.”

At first Wataru is confused by the revelation. But then surprise slowly takes him after betrayal then hurt flash across his face. “No way...”

“YES WAY!” Arashi's cackling ups intensity.

“You mean to tell me that you're my number one hater?”

“Yes,” Arashi says, somehow going from maniacal laughter to monotone in a matter of milliseconds.

“I don't get it...”

“There's nothing to get, OSF_fan@tic. Your characterization is awful. Your plots are long-winded. And quite frankly, your last chapter in Would I or Would I Not? bored me right into a coma. Actually, scratch that. It bored me straight into cleaning my side of the room.”

Wataru balks. Her side of the room was surprisingly clean a few days ago. He thought either Gemma or Kyoka... Wait! What is he thinking? That's not the point! He points a finger at her to argue back. But she cuts him off again.

“And don't think I don't know that Sep[xxx]trion9-6 is OSF_fan@tic's alternate account. I know.”

Wataru's face goes flush and his finger goes flaccid. Now he really does look like he got caught with his pants down. “Can you... maybe not mention that again.”

“Yeah. That would be for the best,” Arashi accedes willingly.

They resume where they left off.

By this time, long since lost and confused, and now very much uninterested, Luka and Kasane have walked away. They set themselves aside, ignoring the roaring insults between two username handles for some something — and that something is called fan fiction — that they know absolutely nothing about. Which is why when Arashi drags them from the couch and back into the kitchen they are surprised. The petty feud wages on.

Wataru gets in Arashi's face and points a finger when she returns. “You know nothing about my works!”

“Well then, we'll let these two settle it.

“Them?” Wataru looks and wafts a dismissive hand up and down at them.

“Yep. Okay, Kasane, Luka.”

“Um... Y-yes?” Luka asks timidly.

Kasane stands with an arm akimbo. But she says nothing otherwise.

“What makes good fan fiction?”

“Uhhhh...”

“Would you say... good characterization?”

“I guess —“

“Would you say that OOC is bad characterization?”

OO-what now? “Umm... Sure.”

“And would you agree that a plot can be ruined by a single OOC moment?”

Luka has answered thus far but these questions are getting to be too much. So he looks to Kasane for some back up. But she's already checked out completely.

Wataru huffs at Arashi. “They don't even know what you're talking about!” he cries, half belligerent with frustration and half appalled with Arashi's tactics.

“That's true. But they still said yes.”

“What do you mean? Only Luka answered.”

“He answered for Kasane by default.”

“I-uh-FFFFF-What? Are you serious?”

“Dead.” She shrugs. “I don't even know why you're so bothered by my one singular opinion. After all don't you have more than ten thousand followers on osffanfic.psy who like your works? Don't you? That's what you say before deleting my comments anyway.”

Wataru flusters again. This time he doesn't recover.

“Hey guys. What's up!” Haruka says as she enters the kitchen.

They didn't even hear her return. But Arashi hops on the new real estate. She tucks Haruka under her arm, all buddy buddy, and fires off much the same questions she did with Kasane and Luka. Haruka's jaw drops in disgust as she makes a face. “Ewwwww! OOC fics are the worst!”

“As if your trashy boy band fics are any better!” Wataru snaps back at her.

Affronted, Haruka steps forward, and Arashi removes her arm from around her, like letting off the leash. Haruka bumps chests with her brother's, who then meets her challenge with a glare. “Those are fantasies and indulgent. They're different.”

“And mine aren't?”

“I don't know. I don't read them.”

“Well, you never did have good tastes.”

“Oh ho. Rich coming from someone who never wipes his pee off the toilet seat.”

“What does that even have to do with this?”

“Everything!”

“Yeah well —“

And they argue and argue. They hurl insult after insult. Arashi chimes in every now and then: “Ooooo, Haruka. You seriously gonna let this OOC chud get away with that” and “Woooooooowhoooooow. Couldn't be me” and “I have to agree with her. Your ships are just that mediocre.” Just fanning the flames to the fire while Luka and Kasane awkwardly stand by.

The argument doesn't stop until Gemma and Kyoka return. “What is going on here?” Kyoka asks while Gemma separates the twins.

“We're just talking about fan fiction,” Arashi answers innocently.

“What now?” Gemma asks as he holds onto a kicking and screaming Haruka who's begging to “Let me at him!”

“Fan fiction. By OSF_fan@tic.”

“Who now?” Kyoka asks with that motherly authority.

“Yeah,” Arashi continues, as if they'd asked a different question entirely. “There are some interesting Gemma-Kyoka slash fics in there too.”

“SHUT UP!” Wataru grows at her.

“Language!” Kyoka yells at him.

“Oh yeah,” Arashi now carries on some conversation by herself, “there's also one involving you,” she points at Gemma, “you,” she points and Kyoka, “and Major General Karen.”

The room falls silent. Wataru face palms and whines. Haruka bursts into a cackle and calls her brother a loser. Kasane and Luka exchange confused glances. Then finally Kyoka and Gemma ask what once more, unwittingly opening that same can of worms again.

An evil glint springs forth from Arashi's eyes as she says, “See, I told you OSF_fan@tic's ships suck,” to Wataru, and the fighting starts anew. This time with kitchen utensils flying everywhere, and expletives that Kyoka can't seem to keep up with because, well, quite frankly she's never heard of them before. The slang of the youth is so foreign. She feels like Gemma now...

Kasane, Kyoka, Gemma, and Luka all hide for cover as war ensues — the first of many more to come. Arashi and Haruka, on the side of the good of fan fic kind, and Wataru the OOC and ship chud of suck... Or so Arashi always says now anyway.

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?” Yakumo asked before yawning and rubbing his tired-looking face with a hand.

Recently Chief Kaito had been working them to the bone. Tend to this Other outbreak here. Slaughter this group of Lost there. Come back to base, report. Do it all again. The guy seemed to think the two ran on infinite energy. And while certainly they were immortal, their stamina reserves were in fact finite.

Sure the revenants got a nice flow of rations out of it. Though they never partook in them and disposed of them before the thought could ever cross their minds.

Tsugumi was just about finished collecting her things when she answered. “Just checking... to make sure I have everything I need.”

“All right then. No rush.” Yakumo cracked his neck side to side and rolled his shoulders. He was really feeling it today.

When all was accounted for, Tsugumi, Yakumo, and Kagero were out the door. And as they exited, Haruka came in from the kitchen with a message for Yuito.

“What's up, Haruka?” he said when she approached him. “Do you need something?”

“Major General Fubuki wants to meet with you.”

Yuito was surprised. How come? He wanted to ask. But Haruka read him easily.

She told him, “He didn't give me any details. Just said to tell you to meet him at the OSF Training Facility.”

“Oh. Okay then. I'll head there right away.” And Yuito did exactly that.

The weakness in the red mist had grown thinner. There was hardly anything there now. Yakumo paused and stared at it.

Kagero quickly noticed he stopped moving. “Hey, something wrong?” he asked from over his shoulder. Both he and Tsugumi stopped to turn to him. They were a few paces ahead of him.

But Yakumo said nothing. His gaze trailed the height of the wall of mist, then the length; that was when he noticed it. A boot print in the dust, seemingly heading in the direction from which they had come. Looked fresh too. And right beside it was a freshly drained blood bead. He could feel pins and needles overtake him as his eyes narrowed on that damning evidence. He knew what it meant, and he had told Louis more than once that they needed to inform the provisional government about the weakness in the mist. But Louis, usually the rational and smart one of the two, said there was no need to worry. Of course at the time Louis was only concerned about being able to go freely from the Gaol of the Mists.

Yakumo respected his decision, had agreed with him even — at first. But things were getting too real now. There was so much at stake that neither he nor Louis had taken the time to consider. All they just wanted was to envision a future where revenants and humans could live in peace together, now that the Gaol of the Mists was weakening. But the cold, hard facts were that revenants posed a danger to the humans outside the Gaol, and in the same vein the humans of the influential underbelly of the outside world were just as much of a threat to revenants. Things were looking to get messy really quick if allowed to go on unabated.

“Helloooooooo! Anybody in there?” Kagero waved his fingerless-gloved hand in front of Yakumo's face.

The revenant blinked himself awake, as if from a trance, and met the worried and curious faces of Tsugumi and Kagero. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said as a gentle breeze blew against his back. “It's just that,” and he turned around to face a rusty silver car, “we're being followed. Hey! You can come on out!”

And came out he did, looking like a kitten who'd been thrown into a puddle — or at least his pride did anyway. Shiden scoffed and crossed his arms after revealing himself from behind the vehicle.

“Shiden?” Kagero asked, half amused and half shocked.

Tsugumi, who was much the same, asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I have business here,” Shiden answered imperiously.

“Oh? Business is it?” Yakumo muttered a bit. “You mean your weapon, right?”

Shiden flustered.

But while Yakumo knew how to handle himself like an adult in these kinds of situations, Kagero took them as a chance to get under Shiden's skin. He giggled like a schoolgirl ready to spread some vicious gossip. “Oh ho ho! A boy in love returns to the scene of the crime. You sly dog. You can't fool me. You're here to see Murasame.”

“I-just-argh. Shut up!” Shiden stammered, face growing a brighter shade of red.

“Anyway,” Kagero stated, more seriously now, “if you're going in there you should stick close to us. If you're all hiding in the shadows like some self-important spy from a comic book, how are we supposed to know if you get attacked?”

Still fuming from Kagero's previous teasing, Shiden furrowed his brows. “I don't need your protection; I can handle myself,” he obstinately proclaimed while storming past the trio.

“It'll be safer if we stick together,” Yakumo said as the waspish boy passed them and marched straight into the Gaol of the Mists.

Kagero scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Let him go. If he thinks he can handle himself, let 'em.”

A concerned little noise then came from Tsugumi, like a hum.

“Something wrong, Tsugumi?”

“I'm with Yakumo,” she said without a beat. “I don't think Shiden should be wandering alone. He may be hard to understand and difficult to be around... but he's a part of our group... We're like a field of flowers.”

“Yeah... except he's got thorns... and he's not pretty to look at.

“Kagero...”

He sighed resignedly. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.”

“Major General Fubuki,” Yuito said as he approached from the entrance.

But Fubuki came to him, making it a point to hold out a hand, a sign for Yuito to stay put. He walked over from the training arena and walked up some steps. Then their conversation began.

“Yuito, good to see you. You're looking well.”

“Haruka said you wanted to speak with me.”

“I do...” And his face grew grave. But only for a split second. Yuito missed it. “Nagi will be released today.”

Hearing this, Yuito's eyes grew wide. “R-really?”

Well that's great news... but...

Fubuki smiled. He nodded. “He'll be discharged from the OSF Hospital later on today. I'll message you the time when I finally get the release form.”

Yuito was of course happy to hear this. Really, really happy. He wanted to laugh and cry and sing and dance and make a complete fool of himself. Nagi, his best friend, was coming back.

But something else was there. A darkness that the brightest light couldn't reach or penetrate even if it could.

Why did they keep him for so long anyway? Is he even well enough to return to active duty? And what about his strange behavior recently? So many questions besieged him all at once.

His mind flashed to that twisted grin on Nagi's face, when they had just faced Karen and were miserably defeated by him. He remembered how Nagi spoke, like some lunatic bent on blood and chaos.

Glory to New Himuka. Those words were so clear to Yuito. So much so that he felt as if he were truly there again, clothes still smoking after being blown miles away by one of Karen's impressive pyrokinkesis attacks. Nagi wasn't himself. His eyes were shifting, trembling, dilating, and retracting.

That beating flickering darkness, doubt, hissed like a conniving snake in the back of his consciousness. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. It did not need venom to shatter him. Only time. Only the natural progression of revelation.

Is... Nagi all right now? A bead of sweat slipped down his cheek as he watched Nagi shred Seto to ribbons, for a second time.

“Umm, Major General Fubuki,” Yuito began when he came to again. He realized he'd been staring off into space — for how long he did not know. He didn't want to worry the major general, so he stuffed what he was feeling away.

But it wasn't enough to do just that. Fubuki was taken aback by Yuito's change in demeanor. He thought the boy would be much happier than this, and he expressed as much, and just as well Yuito said he was indeed happy... But...

“Couldn't you have told me this through psynet or a brain message or at least at the hideout with everyone else?”

Now it was Fubuki's turn for his smile to falter; it unsettled Yuito. Major General Fubuki was never one for being stern or cold or closed off. But right now that warm, caring leader ran cold, like his power, freezing Yuito along with him. His gaze faltered, shifted left once, to the floor once, and to the right twice. His eyes finally settled past Yuito. He then placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave him a gentle pat. His lips pinched before he spoke. “I know how much he means to you. You keep an eye on him, Yuito. Leave the shadows to me.”

That's odd. Yuito looked at the hand on his shoulder. A really odd thing for him to say actually. He noticed it was trembling. What is going on? He's shaking. Why is he shaking? There's something... something he's not saying...

His eyes now met those of Fubuki's, daring to ask. But the major general shook his head. As if he could read minds, the look on his face told Yuito not to ask, not to say anymore; he didn't want Yuito doing anything more than what was needed to not attract suspicion. And so that was what Yuito did.

“Right,” he said, a fake smile plastered on his face, “I'll swing by the OSF Hospital to get him later then.” And now he trembled, reminded once more of Nagi's contorted face. Something akin to dread overtook him. He swallowed hard as Captain Seto hit the ground, blood gushing from his wounds and pooling at Yuito's feet. He swallowed hard again and looked up from the corpse and at Nagi's face, warped with dark insanity.

I can't wait for us to catch up... Yuito...

“Oh. Shiden! What's up? Are you the only one here?”

Shiden was so glad Murasame remembered his name; he almost forgot to speak. “Yeah. The others are wandering around somewhere. I think they're looking for samples or something.”

He made his way down the ramp placed over the huge crevice in the floor and walked toward her desk. He did not meet her gaze when he got there.

“Samples of what?”

Shiden tried to sound out the words to answer her. But they came out all wrong. The best he was able to do was mist something, and the other, blood well. It was close enough. To him anyway.

Murasame's eyes went wide, and for a split second Shiden's gaze flicked up to see her. His face grew red and his heart galloped through his chest. He almost failed to hide his smile. “They're looking for mistle and blood spring samples? I wonder why.” When she drew her hand to fiddle with the scar across her face, Shiden stole another furtive glance.

He never noticed it before. Her scar. It ran clean across her nose, from cheek to cheek. It was impressed rather than raised. Looked like it had been a nasty injury. But it wasn't unsightly. He was actually glad to see her without that purifier mask on, or whatever it was called. She had a nice face.

Quickly he ducked his head down when he realized he was staring. That was when Murasame looked at him and shrugged. It was of no use for her to think about why they needed mistle and blood spring samples. That was none of her business. What was her business though was weapons, and she was sure that that was why Shiden had come.

“Anyway,” she said solemnly, “you must be here for your weapon. I'm right, aren't I?”

“Well, yeah.” Then he said more quietly, “Not just that... but...”

Murasame leaned forward, slapping her hands down on the table for support, just about startling Shiden from his skin. His gaze snapped up to her, owlish, blinking. Then Murasame drew a deep breath and released a hefty sigh. “I'm almost done with it. I am. But I'm missing some material.”

“What do you need?” Shiden leaned forward as if to hear her better. But there was really no other purpose for it than for him to be closer to her.

“Isis Chrome.”

Now Shiden drew back. What the heck was that? He asked her.

“It's a rare metal found in some areas of the Gaol. Louis and Yakumo will know where it is.”

Shiden was disheartened to hear her say that. He didn't really know why. He guessed, maybe, probably, somehow, that he believed he and she would go out and search for it together.

And he wasn't some kid. He was a soldier. He didn't need anyone coming with him or leading the way anyway. He could go and get that Isis Chrome all on his own if he wanted. Still, even while thinking that, he searched for Yakumo and the other two.

Disappointment written all over his face, he wondered what he thought was going to happen in the first place when he met with Murasame again. He didn't really know. Maybe he was expecting her eyes to light up when she saw him. Maybe he wanted her to fall head over heels for him. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. A whole lot of maybe's.

He was a good guy, right? At least he thought he was. He was kind... when he wasn't annoyed with someone's nonsense. He was understanding... when his buttons weren't being pushed. He was patient... when he wasn't having a bad day.

Poor Shiden had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the shadow creeping over him from behind. Large. Hulking. Breathing heavily. The metal of the miasma-eroded hammer that the creature wielded glinted in the sun. But before the giant could smash Shiden to a pulp it gripped its throat, blood spurting from between its fingers from the new slit across its neck, and it fell back in a silent gape. The large metal weapon and the creature's body hitting the ground was what caused Shiden to turn around. He did so only to see the flecks of the monstrous decaying body swaying in the stale air and fading... until its next rebirth.

“Oh ho ho,” a familiar voice, right in front of him, sang out. Kagero suddenly appeared before him, his face so close to the boy's their noses were practically touching. Shiden jumped back, startled by the sudden up-close appearance. “I just saved your butt,” Kagero haughtily declared.

“What?” Shiden gaped, bewildered.

“That's what happens when you don't pay attention while you're in hostile territory. You get attacked and then good old reliable Kagero's gotta save your butt.” He crossed his arms with an imperious smirk, obviously waiting for two simple words.

Well, if that was what he wanted he could forget it. Shiden scoffed. If the disdain in his brown eyes were any clearer he'd have since bored a hole straight through the adult with laser vision. “I was distracted. That's all. And anyway, I could have handled it on my own.”

It was now Kagero's turn to grunt. He rolled his eyes so hard he could nearly see his frontal lobe.

“Anyway, where's Yakumo? I need to ask him something.”

“Geez,” Kagero said monotonously. “You know, if you're not going to thank me for saving your life, the least you can do is say PLEASE when you ask me something.”

“I don't have time for this,” Shiden snapped back.

“Yeah. I get it. Follow me.” And Kagero walked on past him, refusing to regard the boy any further. And Shiden preferred it that way.

A magnificent tree was what Shiden saw before noticing Tsugumi and Yakumo upon approach. It was breathtaking in a fantastical kind of way. It was white and glowed just as white as its bark, a cool yet warm steady pulse, a perfect push and pull of demure and resplendent. There were strange fruit growing from it, hanging from every branch like glass festive bulbs. Each was wrapped in either one or two silvery leaves, like ivory confectionery glaze straight from a heavenly oven, and the skin of the fruit, from what Shiden could see of it at least, was crystal clear. It showed that this fruit held no solid white or orange or pink pulp, but a red liquid. Red like blood.

They came to a standstill just a foot away from Yakumo, who himself was just a foot behind Tsugumi. That was when Shiden broke from his trance. Eyes snapping away from the tree, he looked to the revenant then at Tsugumi. She had all of the essentials: glass slides, little baggies, clippers, and other things. All was packed into a squarish tin, which had come from a pack she had fitted around her waist. Whatever she was doing, it looked as if she was just about wrapping up.

“I have returned,” Kagero announced, mimicking a noble's voice. It was a fairly good impression.

Tsugumi didn't respond — she was too engrossed in her research — but Yakumo did. “Glad you made it back. How'd it go?” He went silent when he saw an aggrieved Kagero pointing a finger in Shiden's direction. The boy looked serious. “Weapon not ready yet?” Yakumo asked him.

Shiden looked up at him with a sneer. It was that sneer he usually did when he didn't feel like answering questions. Yet he ended up asking one of his own. “Murasame said you would know about Isis Chrome.” It sounded like a statement, but it was a question.

“I seem to recall something with that name. Yeah.”

“Do you know where to find it?”

Yakumo spilled all, telling Shiden about the labyrinthine cathedral and the monsters dwelling inside of it. But before he could say anymore — he had shared the crux of what Shiden wanted to know anyway — the device hooked to his belt crackled and hissed to life. A voice came through.

Yakumo took the walkie talkie from his belt and placed the speaker close to his mouth. It was Kaito with marching orders. He had to answer. “Copy that,” he said, almost regretfully, as he placed the walkie talkie at his hip again. “I hate to cut this short but...”

“It's fine,” Tsugumi chirped as she joined the trio. “I'm done.”

“Got everything you need?”

“Yes. This should be enough to last me a few weeks. I just need to examine the cellular structure under a microscope.”

“Louis' good at that kind of stuff. Maybe you could ask him for help. He was a med student, you know.”

Tsugumi smiled while playing with her loupe some. Based on that smile on her face, she was happy to have more people she could rely on.

“What's with that smile?” Kagero said to her, feigning jealousy. “You don't smile for me like that when I offer to help.”

Before she could offer an appropriate response, Yakumo reminded them he needed to get going. Tsugumi nodded and Kagero nonchalantly waved him off. Then they were outside the Gaol again, walking the long abandoned road.

When Nagi released from the hospital it was with a huge grin and a brotherly punch to Yuito's arm.

“Good to finally have you back, Nagi,” Yuito said to him upon the reunion.

Nagi was the same as ever. Nothing seemed off, despite Yuito paying very close attention, just waiting for something to crack. He held a conversation on the way to Musubi's. He asked about how everyone was doing and if they missed him, while they both waited on their orders. And as they ate, he spoke about his treatment — explained that they treated him for some kind of emotional trauma to his brain. Then they made their way back to the hideout.

Not once during this time did Nagi mention anything about Naomi and what happened to her or Captain Seto and what happened to him. Yuito wanted to ask him if he remembered, because by the way he was acting it was clear he didn't.

Maybe I should just... let it be for now. Yuito's brows drew close during his deliberation. The major general was kind enough to give us a week off, so... maybe I can bring it up some time later.

Nagi's reception was warm. Everyone dropped what they were doing and came rushing to the door when they heard his voice. “Hey guys! Guess who's back?” he said, and they all came like a stampede in his direction.

“It's good to see you, Nagi,” Hanabi stated in that bubbly voice of hers.

“It's good to see you again,” said Gemma as he reached out a giant paw and patted Nagi on the arm.

“Welcome back,” Luka followed after.

Then everyone else.

Louis was the last to greet Nagi. He stepped forward and offered his hand, which Nagi took without question. At least until their handshake was over. His brow then arched. “Never seen you before. You new to the OSF?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Louis offered vaguely.

The two then got to talking. While they spoke, Louis briefly telling Nagi about what he was and Nagi, in bafflement, asking what the heck he had missed while he was in treatment, Yuito scanned the sea of bodies surrounding them. Once he did this. Then twice. Finally, thrice to be sure and once more just to be doubly sure.

Yuito scratched his head after a time. “Where's Kagero, Tsugumi, and Yakumo?” he asked.

And as he did, the door opened from behind him and in entered the devil he spoke of.

“Woah! Nagi! You're back!” Kagero celebrated.

“Yeah. It's good to be back. Treatment took long, but I was finally cleared for release today.” Nagi grinned.

“Oh?” And Kagero's smile slowly fell into something akin to suspicion. He was subtle with it though, just as he had learned to keep his cards close, and a few up his sleeve for when his hand fell short. “What were they treating you for?”

Nagi immediately froze up when Kagero asked the question. His face contorted and his eyes shifted side to side as he thought. It was as if he didn't know, and he expressed exactly that. But eventually, almost seemingly out of nowhere, he came up with an answer. However this was different than what he had told Yuito. He told them all about how he hit his head pretty hard when they were fighting the Seiran NDF at the abandoned highway.

But... he told me that he sustained brain damage from emotional trauma. That's what they were treating him for, weren't they? But then again, now that Yuito recalled, Nagi never mentioned from which event he sustained emotional trauma from. In fact, the story Nagi gave Yuito at Musubi's had been full of holes.

Suddenly...

Bzzzzzzz Bzzzzzzssssht! Like static and a viciously hissing white noise, something clouded Yuito's vision as a sharp pain ran through his head and down to the tips of his toes.

He was able to shake it off before anyone noticed thankfully. The last thing he wanted to do was worry them, especially when they were in such high spirits.

“It's good to have you back,” Tsugumi eventually said with a sheepish smile.

“And it's good to be back,” Nagi said with a boisterous chuckle.

Not once did Kagero's suspicion leave Nagi during their interaction, and Yuito noticed this. He wondered if Kagero would be the one to bring it up: what Nagi did to Captain Seto. He wondered how Nagi would react to it, learning that he had killed their acting commander. Would the event be just like it was with Naomi, when he thought — no, believed — she had been killed by an Other?

Instead, and Yuito couldn't say if he was disappointed or relieved about it because he was growing numb all over, Kagero told them about what Yakumo was up to. “Oh, and by the way — in case anyone is wondering — Chief Kaito phoned in with a mission for Yakumo. We shouldn't wait up on him. Sounded serious.”

“Oh,” Kasane now said thoughtfully, “I wonder what it is the Chief wants him to do.”

“Beats me,” Kagero said with a shrug. But everyone knew in a few hours he would become absolutely insufferable. He got like that now if Yakumo, the precious martyr that he was, wasn't around. He was the only one of the group who welcomed Kagero's antics after all.

“And Shiden probably won't be back either,” Kagero went on, stating this merely as an after thought. “Said something about needing to do something in the Gaol of the Mists.”

Chapter Text

The next day was a slow one. Kasane awoke, brushed her teeth, washed her face, showered, lathered up, and then donned her clothes.

The one mission that did come through only had need of Gemma and Kyoka. Both were to instruct a handful of fresh-faced cadets at the OSF Training Facility. Louis and Yakumo were sent on a mission too — to investigate the strange happenings as of late in Mizuhagawa. Kasane was certain it was something to do with those hostile invisible beings, if the phenomenon could be considered as such — a threat similar to the Lost and Others. She wondered if, in fact, the Kunad Gate had anything to do with all of it.

It was during these thoughts, and while her fingers danced and commanded her throwing knives to nick and chip away at another carving, when she was interrupted by an anonymous communication. But she could tell that it was Karen, because he had this domineering way of speaking that gave off the vibe that he was somehow exempt from all chains of command (except his own). Even despite the fact that the silhouette of his image was largely ambiguous, lacking defining features, such as hair — just a black outline of a John Doe — she knew it was him just by his mannerisms.

“Kasane,” he said brusquely, “meet me in Kikuchiba. We need to talk.”

“Why?” she asked him. She wasn't suspicious or anything, just needed to know what she'd be getting herself into. Besides, she was already too deep in favors to be backing out now.

“I'll explain when we meet,” he muttered vexedly and ended the communication.

Kasane didn't know what he wanted, and frankly she didn't care to know either. However she could not help wondering about it.

Before she left she told the others that she was going for a short walk, of which Yuito and Nagi offered to tag along. But she shut them down. Quickly. She told them she needed to be alone.

Karen was already waiting for her when she arrived. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Took you long enough,” he uttered contemptuously.

“Apologies. Nagi and Yuito asked to come with me. I had to shake them without arousing any suspicions,” was her reply.

Karen only grunted and unfurled his arms from his chest. When she was close enough, he then handed a strange object to her.

“What is this?” Kasane asked, taking the item and studying it.

It was obviously some kind of device. It was almost so foreign, so alien, that she was made to believe neither New Himuka nor Seiran had anything to do with creating it. This was because the device was missing all the usual bells and whistles that would make it psionic friendly. If anything the object seemed to be made with only inepts in mind.

Kasane noted the inverted hourglass shape of the device; its middle bulged on all sides and the ends tapered into thin, fragile-looking tubes. At each tube end was a large disc-shaped panel, likely stands for keeping the thing upright on flat surfaces. An eerie red glow — a familiar glow that she could not recollect no matter how hard she tried — came from a network of vein-like structures, where waves of light pulsed through, back and forth. This light looked like dozens upon dozens of red little eyes or fireflies zipping to and fro.

The whole of the apparatus looked vitreous, a strange dark reddish black crystal, but its texture was that of something protean and malleable, like clay or putty. And yet its integrity did not yield to any amount of applied pressure.

Karen answered her previous question. “Does it matter?” he said while drawing his arms back to his chest. There they folded, tighter than before, and he tapped a finger against his arm. “I need you to place this at the Arahabaki control center.”

Kasane's gaze darted up at him. She had two questions: why and how. They were written on her face. But she knew better than to ask. Karen made it clear he had no intention of explaining things to her.

He spoke on and told her that she only needed to set the device and that was it. No passcode or key activation needed. It just needed to be near or in the command center, otherwise known as Gate Six, the Worship Hall. “And don't worry about security; it's been taken care of.”

A confused Kasane blinked at him. If he, or perhaps someone working with him, was able to disarm Arahabaki's security, then why did she have to be the one to place the device? Something was off about all of this. Wanting to know more, but not wanting to overstep her bounds, Kasane readied a question. His answer might provide a clue for her.

“I'm assuming the entrance is unlocked then?” She kept her tone even, monotonous.

“Not exactly...” Karen said. His mind seemed to be elsewhere while he spoke. “You'll need this.” He drew a card from his sleeve and brandished it between his thumb and forefinger. He handed it to her. It was a key card.

He spoke on as she studied it. “This should grant you access to the Sumeragi Tomb.”

Muddled by this information, she asked why she needed access to Sumeragi Tomb.

Karen offered an inaudible grunt. “Isn't it obvious?” he said, more brusque than previously. “You need to go through Sumeragi Tomb to reach Arahabaki.”

She learned nothing from this answer. If Karen had somehow gotten access to Sumeragi Tomb then he could have placed the device himself but didn't, for some unknown reason. She could ask another question, attempt to coax more out of him. Perhaps she could ask about the security system. Something about what if it wasn't completely disabled or if there were any security contingencies she needed to worry about. However she knew asking him would be futile. Karen always came off laconic to her, so much so, in fact, that not even Luka, his brother, seemed to know the man beyond septentrion first class. Karen would only give her curt answers, with few clues to go on.

So in the end she never discovered who disabled Arahabaki's security for her, and why.

~

It was a simple task to slip past the NDF guards at the Sumeragi Tomb Ground's gate. Kasane used psychokinesis to lift a rock and hurled it just a foot from the guard farthest from where she hid — midst a crowd of people. The guard stirred a little but paid the noise no mind otherwise. No matter.

Kasane raised more rubble and, using math and precision and some otherworldly sorcery, curved her shot so that it seemed like it had been tossed opposite from her. The rock hit the soldier's helmet with a solid dink and he turned to face the assumed culprit. “Hey! Who threw that!” he furiously barked at a crowed of nearby rebellions teens.

“What's that, you warmonger?” cried a blue-haired girl in response.

“Starting trouble with civilians, eh?” a boy with jet black hair and a chain piercing from his brow to his nose resounded. A tuft of hair covered one eye. It was dyed purple.

“I'll show you trouble!” the guard roared in reply, gaining himself the attention of every eye.

The other soldier placed a hand on his arm and tried telling him to calm down. But his arm was swiftly bucked off, and the irate guard stormed toward the teens.

“You little shits think you're gonna get away with that!”

“HELP!” cried one of them dramatically. “Tyranny! Suppression of speech! Denial of expression!”

Now was her chance. While everyone was crowding around the commotion, Kasane stole past the gate and worked her way to the tomb entrance. Lucky for her, everyone piled out of the burial site. Some left out of curiosity while others went to record for clicks and views. Many got an amazing show from the rebellious teenagers laying a swift smack down on the angry NDF soldier and his friend, who tried jumping in out of obligation. The kids made their getaway as soon as the guards were on the ground writhing and groaning.

“This better work,” Kasane breathed as she slid the card Karen had given her through the card reader.

The vision panel hovering above the authentication screen flipped from red to yellow to green and the door unlocked, whereupon Kasane slipped inside before anyone saw her. The door then closed behind her, the shuddering of bolts sealing it securely shut — as it was before her illicit entry.

A series of stairs yawned before her, each running left or right, down, down, down, and down. There were stairs to either side of where she stood. They were as black as the color of the room itself. She could just barely make them out, and that was only because of the sun coming in through a cut out in the ceiling.

Thinking to herself about where she needed to go she descended the stairs at her left, stepping down until she came to a landing. Then she descended more in the opposite direction, and again, and again, and again.

The stairs were never ending, it seemed. Kasane had to wonder if she was heading underground, or at least below ground level, somewhere. As her descent continued she realized some staircases led to dead ends in the walls. She thought it was strange but nothing more beyond that. Her mission wasn't to puzzle out the why about the architecture. So she continued on down the steps until she finally came to the end of them.

Before her now lay a long rhomboid-shaped hallway that looked to go on forever and ever. But she went through anyway, paying no mind to the prickling sensation of hairs raising on her neck as droplets of water, visions, began falling from the ceiling at bullet speed.

If the atmosphere was gloomy before then it was dismal now, bogging Kasane down like a sad song. Still she walked on. Farther and farther down that hall until she saw an exit. She came through it to find nothing she needed. Just a strange geometric machine in the middle of a floating platform. Was this the terminal she was looking for?

Of course it wasn't, she internally berated herself. It was obvious, based on the smoothness of the object, like a plastic pod, that it was a monument of sorts. Perhaps a memorial to Yakumo Sumeragi. At least that was what Kasane surmised.

If that was the case then she was in the wrong place. She needed to find Arahabaki's main terminal. Back through the corridor she went. The false rain ceased as she exited the other side.

“Okay...” she said to herself as she examined the room full of stairs. “Where do I go?”

It took some time but she eventually found a hidden area — a doorway at the end of one of the staircases; it was shrouded by a clever vision that used the natural dim lighting of the room to blend perfectly with the rest of the wall. But once Kasane stuck her hand through she knew where she had to go. Down farther.

She figured she had to have at least climbed down thirty more flights of stairs before reaching another corridor. It was dark — wherever she was now. She had to press her hands firmly against the wall to find her way. She walked on for a time before realizing she was moving up an incline. Up and up and up she climbed until she finally broke through at the end, where she shielded her eyes from the sudden burst of bright light.

This new, well-lighted area was reminiscent of a Japanese shrine, drowned in tech. Conveyor belts lined alternate paths. Terminals for opening gates, or other things, shined a steady green and mixed with the blue hue of the surrounding area — this indicated that they had already been activated.

The path was relatively straightforward. No lasers blocked her way, no closing gates impeded her progress, no stationed guards attacked her on sight. Just a one-way walk to the master terminal.

She entered into the Worship Hall and stopped to study fat vision wires, threaded together like shimenowa, hanging overhead. It gave the impression that the area was of a plane of higher existence.

It didn't take long to plant the device. She placed it right by the control center, a chair in the middle of the room. But it wasn't a chair for leisure, as was plain to see. This was likely where someone with high clearance — which Kasane was not — came to send messages to all the denizens of the city. She imagined this seat to be a powerful tool. Only used in case of dire emergencies.

She did what Karen wanted of her. That was it. There was nothing else for her to do here. So she headed toward the exit, closing her eyes to revisit those thoughts from earlier. About why Karen didn't do this task himself. But she only made it so far when she was startled by the sound of footsteps. She whipped around and saw nothing. Weird. She then walked on ahead, this time making it to the gate threshold before stopping again. She could have sworn she heard a voice. Up above. She looked but there was nothing, no one. Perhaps, she considered as she made her descent from the Worship Hall, her mind was playing tricks.

As she reached the end of the steps she adjusted her sleeves and hair clip. She was reminded of Naomi when she touched the hair accessory. Just the thought of her soothed Kasane's roiling nerves. Perhaps, she contemplated happily, she should visit her sister today.

Again, at the end of that thought, she paused, and a lantern suddenly flew past her face, from her left. She looked. Again. Nothing.

Rat pat pat pat pat tat. More footsteps. Thump thump thump thump thump thrump. Heavier footsteps. She could hear strange noises all around her, as if something followed her from the Worship Hall just to play tricks on her.

The hair on her neck at once stood on end. A draft ran through her hair, hitting her neck as cool little whirls that quickly dissipated. It felt like someone, or some thing, was breathing on her. She grew stiff, moving not a muscle, as she now felt those cool whirls change to warmth and condensation gathering at her neck. The draft drew heavier and hotter and more moist until Kasane heard a low, deep grumble inching toward her ear.

Fear striking her fast, Kasane lifted the nearest object with her power, spun around, and chucked it. She didn't even check to see what she hit. She bolted, her terrified voice growing, thicker and thicker with fear, as she heard something give chase. Soon she was dodging flying objects that twirled all around her — at her.

With a strenuous grunt she stopped one item that flew right at her face. Then she redirected another that threatened to take her out from the side. While dodging, parrying, and stopping these hurtling objects, using her psychokinesis, she landed in even deeper trouble — quite literally. Along the way she stepped in goop that stopped her hard in her tracks. Or at least that was what it felt like. But when she looked at her feet she saw she was standing in nothing. It was as if she was glued to the floor.

With a frantic gasp she bent down and tugged at her leg with her hands. When that failed she tugged at her boots. No luck; so she abandoned them. Now running in only her socks she avoided being struck by the variously sized items flying and whirling all around her.

Kasane was so frenetic that she hadn't been paying attention to the paths she was taking. Soon she stopped at a door, an exit and an entrance, one she did not come through originally. At this large door a masked man stood. For a moment he seemed to appraise her, arms folded coolly across his chest. Then he unfurled them and walked toward her.

“Y-Yakumo Sumeragi?” she gasped when she descried his mask. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and cheeks and her heart hammered in her chest when she heard a shriek and a roar from not far behind her.

On instinct she swiveled on her heels to look behind herself but quickly turned back around to face the ominous masked man, who was drawing nearer. Poor Kasane. With the invisible forces raising hell behind her and this suspicious man moving toward her, she was unsure what to do. She could always jump over the railing. That was an option. But the fall looked long. She would die.

Panic made her vision blurry; tears made her vision blurry. She was caged, just like she was when she was at that place. What could she do, she asked herself as the man inched nearer. What could she do, she asked herself as a heavy object went whizzing past her head from behind and whipped up her hair in her face.

She couldn't die — not yet. She still had Naomi to see to. She still had a purpose. With this in mind she shut her eyes tightly and she did something unthinkable. She prayed. Her lips moved silently with a hope, with a faith, with a something she hardly had any concept of. But it was all she had left. As her lips moved she could hear the man's footsteps, heavy, deliberate, and definitive. The sound of them was a time signature all their own. The man swaggered forward as if he wrote his own laws on cadence, tempo, beat, and rhythm.

Kasane was sure she was going to perish. Either at the hands of this man or those invisible things screeching and flinging objects behind her. But when the footsteps were closest they kept on going.

He was twenty paces past her when she opened her eyes, thirty paces past her when she slowly turned around, thirty-five paces when all the ruckus died down, and then he was gone, disappeared into thin air it seemed, before Kasane could lay eyes on him again.

Not wanting to spend another minute more in that accursed place she rushed to the door ahead of her and let herself out. She was in flight mode and flew on out of there, rushing outside and away from the Sumeragi Tomb and Arahabaki. Forget the shoes, she thought to herself as her soles slapped harshly against concrete; she could get a new pair.

As the door closed behind her with a querulous creak and a clack, the device that she placed, at the foot of the main terminal console, started crackling, like the sound of white noise. Its red networks flashed blue and the vision ropes above glowed blue too.

For a split second Arahabaki went dead. Then it went right back up as if nothing had happened. (And the people of Suoh, even the government presiding over them, were none the wiser.) A vast network of roots sprouted from the device, weaving into the floor like veins. They proliferated, wrapping around the console, climbing their way up columns and beams, spreading out and taking over like a starving tumor.

The roots groaned as they fattened, expanding into appendages that reached up to grasp and strangle any item in their path. They grew longer, thicker, quicker, soon draping over railing, extending more and more. A few pressed up against the door Kasane escaped through. They fused with it, barring anyone entry, if they should come. They also blocked where Kasane had come in through, flooding the vast dark hall and fattening until there was no space left to even slip in a piece of paper.

The roots proliferated still, up and up and up the psionic signal tower, the great wonder of Suoh, like serpentine red lightning fading to blue, like little vines creeping higher and higher until they stopped at the apex. The ones below dug themselves deeper still, quickly making work of even the hardest of the Earth's crust, driving through magma and down down down until they joined thousands more, each from different locations, at the Earth's core.

The core shuddered and an earthquake shook the land, throwing people off balance and causing drivers to lose control over their vehicles. A crowed screamed in Ryujin Ward as a huge truck, bucked up by shifting concrete, came rolling toward them. As it smashed into a shop it dragged three or four civilians under its wheels, just as the ground shifted once more.

There was then a loud roar, a voice from the depths of the Earth — an agonal breathing. It seemed to summon a great fault that formed along the entire length of Ryujin Ward. The news was all over it when it was over. “The Biggest Quake in New Himuka's 2,000 Year History,” the headlines read. Nobody would know what caused it. But Suoh scientists made an educated guess. The believed it was caused by the Kunad Gate. A riveting and safe theory that the public ate up with gusto.

~

“What was that?” Kasane asked as she steadied her feet when the tremor finally passed. Her soles ached badly.

She wasn't sure what was going on but she fled to the hideout with the quickness, and on the way there she happened upon a familiar face. He seemed to have been waiting for her. Kasane narrowed her eyes at him and Karen narrowed his at her. “I did what you wanted,” she stated bitterly, “and I was almost killed in the process.”

Karen grunted. Her words had little bearing on him. “I came to tell you: they're going to move the metamorphosed Others from the research facility to the Old OSF Hospital.”

It was news that came as a shock. “What?” Kasane asked incredulously. “Why would they do that?”

Karen paused. His gaze floated down. If he noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes at the moment he didn't say anything about it. Instead he seemed to be contemplating whether or not he should answer her. He eventually decided to do so. “What I'm about to tell you is top secret information. Only a scant few government higher ups even know about this.

“The only reason why Seiran has kept the Supernatural Life Research Facility under its jurisdiction is because New Himuka allowed it to.”

“I don't... understand.”

“On the surface it only looks like Seiran and Suoh are at war. But they're not. They still trade and exchange research findings. Behind the scenes Seiran is still part of New Himuka.”

“But if that's true... then... then...”

“Yes,” Karen said, extending to her his sparse empathy. “New Himuka is responsible for metamorphosing Naomi.”

“But why,” Kasane demanded to know, “would they do that?”

Karen answered, “I don't know. Perhaps as a diversion or part of a contingency.”

“But you were the one who led the Seiran uprising. So that would make all of this part of your plan.”

Karen scoffed. He grimaced at her furiously. “You think I would have really gone along with that plan? To turn Naomi into an Other? To turn Ali —“ He cut himself off and gritted his teeth. Then he sucked in a breath and released it as a relaxed exhale.

He continued. “I had nothing to do with it. Turns out I was just a pawn all along... I was always a pawn.”

“Okay, so what does that mean for Naomi? What's going to happen to her at the Old OSF Hospital?”

“Dissection most likely,” Karen said in a detached tone.

“They're going to dissect her?” Kasane cried.

How terrible. She needed to get to her sister. Hopefully before Naomi was transferred.

There was a spontaneous shift in Karen's disposition. He transitioned from somber to ceremonious in an instant. “I can help you by delaying the transfer... But only if you do something for me first.”

“What is it?” Knowing what she knew now Kasane didn't feel particularly inclined to help him. After all he was partly to blame for Naomi's confinement. But she was willing to hear him out if he could help her buy time to rescue her sister.

Karen dropped a duffle bag he'd been toting around one arm at her feet. “There are two more devices in here. The same as the one I gave you earlier. I need you to set one in the BABE Terminal in Togetsu.”

“Okay.”

“The last one needs to be near Kunad gate.”

But wait a minute. Kasane narrowed her eyes at him. She understood why he wanted her to place the device in Togetsu. Because it was the most likely place she and her sister would be escaping to when the time comes. But near the Kunad Gate? “Couldn't you place one near the Kunad gate yourself?” she asked and looked him over for a sign of duplicity.

“Well, I could. But I don't have the time.”

“But you're here.”

“And you're assuming I have no time to spare at the moment.”

“But you have access to teleportation and hypervelocity. It shouldn't be a problem for you.”

Karen considered her with an icy gaze. “Just do it,” he uttered disdainfully. “If you want my help then that's part of the deal.”

“Fine...” Kasane grabbed the duffle bag and slung the strap over her shoulder.

“Just be sure that nobody discovers what's inside the bag. Even your comrades. Nobody can know.”

“And why so secretive?”

“You know...” Karen said, his voice growing tight. He was losing his patience with her. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Yeah. And you're asking a lot of favors with no explanations.”

“Look, I told you all I know; I told you all I could. Just know that there are powers in very high places that not even I can break away from. That means that you and I need to stop questioning every damn thing... and just do our parts.” His final words were gruff, acerbic.

Kasane knew all Karen wanted from this interaction was a transaction, and he got it. Nothing more, nothing less. If not asking questions was what she had to do to keep Naomi safe, then so be it. If doing what Karen wanted was the only price she had to pay for Naomi's safety, then she would pay it.

Still Karen's demeanor bothered her. She had a strange feeling, while on her way back to the hideout, that something bigger than the world itself was germinating right under all of their noses.

Karen was unusually on edge, she noted. It was beyond being irritable or having a bad day. He knew something — a conspiracy that could potentially unravel life as they all knew it.

But that wasn't important. She needed to come up with a rescue plan for Naomi. She needed to also come to terms with the fact that she was about to become a wanted criminal, again.

For you Naomi I'd set the whole world on fire.

But Kasane's face crumpled with sorrow as she was reminded of her sister's grotesque new form. Naomi would never be accepted back into society, so she should get that idea out of her head now. Nobody would even care that Naomi was going to experimented on.

Life was so unfair, so cruel. Thousands of people flocked to research facilities to protest the use of animals in drug trials. Simians, dogs, rats... Yes, even rats. But there was no one to protest for Naomi, and the thought of that filled Kasane with a quite sadness and a waking rage.

While lost in her troubled thoughts, and in all her woes, she received a brain message. It was Shiden

Shiden: … Hey Kasane...

Kasane: Shiden. Do you need something?

Shiden: No! Why the hell would I need anything from you?!

Kasane drew a deep breath.

Kasane: It's obvious. It's not like you to send a brain message just to say “hey.”

Shiden: Well, I wanted to!

Kasane: Okay then. So this conversation is over. I don't do small talk.

Shiden: WAIT!

Kasane paused. He was acting strange, she noted. Could he have gotten himself into trouble?

Kasane: Shiden, are you there?

Kasane: Shiden?

She made an inaudible groan.

Kasane: What are you coordinates?

Shiden: I'll send them.

Ping. He sent them. From the looks of the coordinates he was somewhere inside the red mist. Kasane wanted to ask what he was even doing there but, given how googly eyed he'd been over Murasame, she could hazard a guess. It was certainly because he'd bitten off more than he could chew while trying to look valiant to the revenant girl — she just knew it. The fool. All he really managed was to become a big pain-in-the-neck inconvenience.

Shiden: And HURRY! I don't know how much longer I can hold out!

He wasn't in any position to be demanding her to hurry, Kasane thought bitterly to herself. She looked down at her bootless feet. Hopefully Shiden stayed put. The last thing she wanted to do was have to drag his sorry cadaver back to Suoh while the soles of her feet throbbed against dilapidated the pavement.

Chapter Text

Nagi and Yuito walk around Suoh. The former raises his arms to stretch. An obnoxious sound comes from his gaping mouth.

They've been to the cat cafe, a night club with Kagero one of the prior nights, Musubi's, on multiple occasions; and they've window shopped at every store along Ryujin Ward and beyond. There are only so many activities to celebrate their reunion. Really, there isn't anymore to do now but walk and talk.

But they are not talking. A veil of awkward silence hangs between them.

With the doldrums beginning to weigh in heavy, Yuito, feeling particularly mischievous, taps Nagi's shoulder in that playful way either of them does to start a play fight. But before anything comes of it they are approached by a gaunt-looking man with a sunken face, dented eye sockets, and a rolled up something — looks like a magazine at first glance — in his hands. He wrings the item in his hands, so hard that both boys can hear it.

“Hi...” the man says, ostensibly nervous. But his words quickly pick up in intensity. “I couldn't help but notice; the two of you have potential.”

Yuito is addled, not deterred. He blinks twice before responding. “Thanks... I think...” He and Nagi exchange glances, the latter offering an expression that says the man is crazy and they should high tail it out of there before things get weird real quick. Yuito agrees with a slow nod.

Still the man speaks on, gaining momentum with each word. “I know what you're thinking!” he practically sobs. “You think I am crazy. Out of my mind. Insane. Mad.”

Yuito and Nagi shake their heads at the accusation, because self preservation gives them no other option. But the man is right.

He draws a dramatic deep breath and heaves a vocalized sigh. “But this tortured soul can see it. My artist's eye cannot be eluded.” Again, he wrings the magazine in his hands, and Yuito and Nagi can, again, hear the squeak of constricting glossy paper. “Oh! Yea!” He practically bursts at the seams. “I can see it now!”

The boys freeze up when the man suddenly makes a frame with his fingers, as if he's taking pictures in his mind. He studies them, tilts his makeshift frame side to side, same as he does with his head. Meanwhile, Yuito and Nagi are silently contemplating their escape.

The man speaks on. “You two will be perfect for my upcoming film.”

“Film?” Nagi perks up.

“Uh huh. 'Undead Dead Alive.' It is a short film but...”

“Well why didn't you just lead with that?!” And Nagi takes his tone down a notch when he next says, “Now what about this movie?”

Unbelievable. Yuito clears his throat and nudges Nagi's arm with his own, as if to say “what are you doing?” But despite his concerns the world moves on. It always does.

“So you are interested?” asks the man.

Before Nagi can answer, Yuito cuts in. “Actually we're not supposed to be talking with strangers,” he says as he makes to lead Nagi away.

The man deflates. “That's too bad.”

Lucky for him though Nagi resists. “What?” he gasps and faces Yuito. He grabs him by the shoulders, now reversing their roles. “This is a once in a life time opportunity and you're worried about talking to strangers. We're not kids, Yuito.”

Has Nagi gone mad? A confounded Yuito blinks at him.

Brushing off his friend's attempt to steer him away, Nagi returns to the man. This time with an apologetic smile. “Don't worry about him; were totally interested in this film of yours.”

The man perks right up. “R-really?”

And Yuito parrots in his own dumbfoundedness: “R-really?”

“Of course! Ha ha ha!” Nagi cackles a little too confidently.

To go from sketched out to willing in a matter of minutes — Nagi is either very gullible or blinded by thoughts of fame, Yuito thinks to himself. But there's no helping it, he also thinks.

Yuito has no choice but to go along with all of this now. He just hopes that something good comes from it.

~

“Guess what guys?” Nagi harmonizes as he enters through the door. “Yuito and I got cast for a movie.”

Heads turn in their direction as the door closes and automatically bolts shut behind them.

Shiden scoffs at the announcement. “What?” he asks disparagingly while looking Nagi up and down. “Why would anyone want to cast you in a movie?”

Nagi, feeling full of himself and on cloud nine so high he forgets his humble little beginnings already, crosses his arms over his chest and smirks in Shiden's general direction. “You're just jealous that Yuito and I were scouted for the movie.”

“What was that?!”

“You heard me. You're green with envy. You're oozing jealousy, Shiden.

“It's okay though,” Nagi says as he haughtily studies his nails, or the material of the gloves covering them, rather. “When I get big and famous I'll give you my autograph. Just make sure you don't lose it. You know, let it gather some value before you sell it.”

Yuito sighs. Wow. He's already got a big head and we haven't even started filming yet... are we witnessing the transformation of a monster right before our very eyes... Again, Yuito sighs.

At this point Shiden's ire, all with the grace of tires peeling out in the mud, now turns to Yuito. “And what? You too, huh?”

Yuito's response is with a reluctant nod. “Though,” he thinks to explain himself, because he knows how Shiden can get when he feels slighted, “I wasn't on board initially. The guy seemed kind of... I don't know... weird.”

Nagi is none to happy to hear this. He snaps at Yuito. “How can you say such a thing!” He acts as if he himself is personally affronted by the remark. “He's not weird. He's an artiste!”

“You mean artists...” Yuito can't help but arbitrarily correct him.

Nagi waves it away. “Yeah. Yeah. My point is he's the creative type. They're ALL weird.”

And now Yuito has to fight the petty urge to mention Nagi's subconscious use of the word weird.

“Do you even know this guys name?” Shiden asks Yuito, as he is no longer interested in talking with Nagi.

No. No they do not know the guy's name...

Thus Nagi declares at the top of his lungs, “Names are irrelevant! He's a film maker, and that's all we need to know!”

“Actually,” interjects Yuito, “we probably should have got his name...”

“Great...” Shiden grumbles, growing ever cynical by the minute. “Our two stars: Dumb and Dumber. They don't even think to ask about who it is they're getting involved with.

“I bet you signed a contract without reading it first too.” The dour boy crosses his arms, as if to say prove me wrong.

Yuito swallows hard. Sweat starts to stream down his forehead. “Uhhhhhh... Contract?”

“What. The. Hell. Are you serious?”

“Do you even know what the movie is about?” Kasane now chimes in.

Of course neither can give her a direct answer. So Nagi doubles down. “It's a once in a life time opportunity!” he says as if it answers the question.

“Once in a life time opportunity or not,” a motherly voice flits into the conversation, “you should be careful. What if this is a scam? It may seem legitimate at first... then you're waking up in a ditch with your organs missing.”

It's a horrific image that makes Yuito gulp again. “My organs missing?” he whimpers nervously.

“Which is why —“ and Kyoka pulls the largest charm they've all ever seen from out of nowhere — “you'll need one of my ultimate scam warding charms,” she grunts as she drags it toward the thunderstruck duo.

The charm grates against the floor like stone and causes Kyoka's joints to crackle and pop when she lifts it to hand to them. Yuito and Nagi are not prepared for its weight and both are immediately pulled down with it when it's in their possession.

“What is this even made out of?” Nagi grunts as he tries to lift it.

“It kind of looks like a stone wheel,” Yuito grunts, half joking, before quitting the obnoxiously large charm.

Kyoka claps her hand together and giggles, because Yuito makes the correct assumption. “That's exactly what it is!” she tells them.

Bewildered, Yuito asks, “What? A stone wheel?”

“Yes. As long as you carry that around no harm will come over you while filming that movie.”

And Nagi can't help but mutter under his breath: “Geez... We won't be getting anywhere with this thing.” But he chuckles and pretends to be grateful for it anyway. “Oh thanks so much, Kyoka! You're always so thoughtful. But... I don't think we'll be able to carry this... thing... Charm! Charm! Sorry.” He clears his throat guiltily when it looks like she is going to cry. “We can't really carry this charm around with us; it's much too big.”

“I'm sure that's the point,” Gemma speaks up, breaking his concentration — he's meditating — just to say so.

“Oh, I'm just concerned about you two,” Kyoka admits. “You don't even know if this film maker is legitimate or not. I just don't want your little spirits to get broken, that's all.”

As if finding something funny Nagi offers a lighthearted chuckle. “Don't worry; he's the real deal. I can tell just from looking at him.”

But Yuito knows otherwise. He and Nagi were about to book it when that strange man first approached them back in Suoh. Funny how Nagi's forgotten all of this now...

Then suddenly, as if summoned by Nagi's words, as if by an unknown incantation, Arashi arises from her nap. She rubs her eyes with a fist. Then she slaps a hand down on the pillow in her lap when she's done. The noise of her hand hitting the pillow seizes everyone's attention. “A looooooooooot of work goes into acting, you know. It's not all fun and games. It's work, work, work, work, and more work.” That is her two cents.

But Nagi triples down. “But it's a once in a life time opportunity!” he groans at her, petulant, like a bratty child.

“Hey,” she says nonchalantly and shrugs a shoulder, “take it from the PR queen. It's exhausting work. Gets old real quick.” And that is that. She seems to have completely exhausted whatever burst of energy overtook her. She falls flat on the couch again. Supine. A light snore can be heard coming from her now, and Yuito scratches his head. Maybe she's right, he thinks.

But Nagi instead quadruples down. “But it's a once in a life time opportunity!” Indignant, he huffs. “Whatever.” He turns to Yuito with a dour face. “I know I'm going through with this. How 'bout you? You in or you out?”

Yuito stammers for a second, wondering how he got roped into this mess in the first place before he finally spits out an answer. “I'm in of course!”

Nagi smiles. He's pleased to hear it. “Good,” he replies. He pats his friend's shoulder. “You and me! Stars among stars! I can't wait!”

Shiden rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” he can be heard muttering to himself.

Having, with a fraction of a hair snapping in a sensory deprivation chamber, heard what Shiden said, Nagi turns to him with this troublesome grin on his face. “What was that? I'm sorry, I can't hear you over all that jealousy you're oozing. Admit it. I got the face of a star.

“Finally. Someone notices my talent. I can see it now —“ he swoons — “ my image on vision ads, lining the streets. Guys want to be me; girls want to be with me.” He suddenly gasps. Just a painful sounding inhalation of air. “And my stalkers... What ever will I do about my stalkers... I only have one heart to give... It's a cruel, cruel world. It truly is... I'll have to hire security. Wear a bulletproof vest wherever I go... I'll have to break more hearts than my own can handle.” They lose him. He rambles on and on about this fantasy world of his, much to Shiden's annoyance and Yuito's amusement.

“You're a delusional fool!” Shiden spits derisively before storming off into the training room to sulk.

When he's gone, Kagero chuckles to himself. He's been quiet thus far, observing patiently. But if anyone enjoys seeing that mercurial sod take an ego blow, it's him. It makes him want to join in now, if only to get under Shiden's skin even more. “Ah, don't listen to him, Nagi. Keep dreaming big. Bigger than big. You're gonna be the brightest star New Himuka has ever seen.”

Of course Nagi can't help but eagerly agree. “You know it,” he says with a toothy grin.

~

Today is the day. Nagi and Yuito swagger to the filming location with a smile. But their smiles quickly drop once they get there. There is no film crew, no lights, not even one of those big fancy cameras operated on a crane or lift. The boys note all of this with a slack jaw.

“You, uh, think Kyoka was right about this being a scam?” Nagi whispers to Yuito.

Yuito answers, “Let's hope not.” A silent prayer is not too far behind his words.

The film maker spots them; he beams at them. The most the boys can manage are awkward smiles that hurt to maintain when the man waves them down. “So glad you made it!” The film maker approaches them, arms wide open, as if to receive them. “Without you,” he says almost somberly, “I'd have no film!” He laughs. Yuito and Nagi laugh... nervously.

“Anyway,” Yuito segues on to the next topic, “what is this movie about?”

With the energy of a supernova the man bursts into a sudden series of exaggerated hand and arm motions. “Get this...” he says, arching his hands as if mimicking the formation of a rainbow. “An alternate universe. Zombies. The OSF.”

“Uh... huh...” Yuito and Nagi shrug at each other.

The film maker continues, now bursting into some motion that sort of looks like interpretive dance. Nagi and Yuit can't really tell. They're too busy being stunned by it to hazard a guess. “Instead of Others, because they don't exist in this movie's universe, the OSF —“ he gives three poor-form punches at nothing — “fights the zombies.”

“Oh,” Nagi gasps, mostly pretending to be interested. But he quickly ducks his head toward Yuito when the man isn't looking. “Remember when I said he wasn't weird? I take it back... He just might be insane...”

A vindicated Yuito gives his friend that I told you so mug. But he doesn't rub it in. That's far beneath him.

When the man's attention is on them again, Nagi turns to him and chuckles uncomfortably. “Soooo...” He chortles again. “That's, uh, that's, uh, why you call it 'Undead Dead Alive'. Pretty clever.”

“EXACTLY!” The film maker bursts into another strange pose. This time he bends his knees, stands on his toes, arches his back, and touches his fingers to his head, one arm dangling behind himself and nearly touching the ground because of how far back he's bent back. He looks not unlike a model on a vision poster doing a very uncomfortable, nigh-impossible stunt. It's enough to shock the two boys into taking a step back, and they wonder where this part of him was yesterday. “You boy!” the film maker declares with his full chest. “You get art!”

And it is such a compliment that has Nagi's head big all over again in no time. He chortles. This time haughtily. “Of course I do. What do they say? Great minds think alike!”

“Ah ha ha ha ha!” And the man strikes another physically impossible pose. “Flattery will get you everywhere in this line of business.” He points at Nagi. “You, yes you, have potential; I can see it now. Your name in lights, written in the sky with the stars.”

Nagi is practically drooling at the idea of it all. Meanwhile a disgusted Yuito is almost tempted to pick Nagi's jaw up from the ground for him.

“And what is your name?”

“Nagi Karman.”

The man strikes another gravity defying pose, one foot on the ground, the other's toes stuck straight up, body leaning back farther, farther, and farther, and his hands and arms just do their own thing. “Nagi,” he gasps at the sound of it. “You will make a fine Yuito Sumeragi.”

Yuito sputters. Did he hear him right? “What?” he wheezes.

But Nagi is too busy dreaming delusions of grandeur and everything else is lost on him, much to Yuito's annoyance. “And what,” an indignant Yuito says, “part will I play?”

“That depends,”says the man, kicking his left leg behind himself and zig zagging his arms like an Egyptian. “What is your name?”

No longer amused, not even mildly, Yuito deadpans, “Yuito... Sumeragi Yuito.”

“That's great!” the film maker blurts loud enough to shock Nagi out of whatever fantasy he's living momentarily.

It's clear this manic pixie dreamer of an artist didn't even hear him. He probably hasn't even committed his name to memory, Yuito thinks sourly. Instead the man speaks on, as if he didn't hear anything, just as Yuito suspects. “You will play the jaded Yakumo Sumeragi, founding father of New Himuka. You time travel to the future with the goal of harnessing advanced technology to destroy the ever-growing hordes of zombies in your own time.

“However, tragically, sadly, unfortunately, inevitably —“ he strikes a pose with every word whose counterpart can be found in a thesaurus — “in his pursuit of power, to save the world, he quickly devolves into a villain, bent on sacrificing whomever to rid the world of the flesh-eating undead.”

Still annoyed about not being cast as himself but genuinely interested in this fresh new take on his ancestor, Yuito nods. “That's... actually an interesting take on Sumeragi Yakumo. I mean, we always hear about how great he is; the guy is practically worshiped like a god. Having him be the villain of your movie is not only bold, it's different. In a good way. Refreshing kind of, actually.”

“Of course it is!” the film maker booms loud enough to make Yuito's and Nagi's ears rumble. “It is of my genius.”

“Yes! Genius!” Nagi says, his two eyes — now Fame and Fortune — glazed over with ecstasy. “Gonna be rich... Gonna be famous... Gonna be BIG... Autographs, girls, money, notoriety...” His proceeding chuckle creeps Yuito out.

The film maker pulls a remote from his pocket while Nagi is still daydreaming. The man then presses a few buttons and a drone with a huge-fat-giant camera attached to it whizzes around the boys' heads before zooming in for a very awkward, large open-pore, fairly unflattering close up. “Lights! Camera! ACTION!”

There is no script, Nagi and Yuito soon learn, so they have to ad lib. They find this lack of script strange of course — not to mention the lack of a make up artists, film crew, stage props, hairstylists, snacks and drinks to rejuvenate...) — but they are having lost of fun.

Well, Yuito is at least. Nagi starts to take things a little to seriously. “Hold on,” he says for the dozenth time. And filming stops for the dozenth time. “I need to freshen up.”

What for?! And where?! And how?! Yuito begins to sour.

They are on their fiftieth scene, making it pretty far into the film, when they are suddenly interrupted again. It isn't by Nagi this time, and Yuito can't help but be relieved. But all of that changes when he sees who the culprit is. Shiden.

He comes strolling over to them, casually. “Is this the production site for 'Undead Dead Alive'?” he asks nobody in general.

“CUUUUUUUUUUT!” the man roars. He whips around to Shiden, angry as a wasp at first but calm shortly after. “Oh, what is this?” he says, voice oozing honey now.

Shiden looks odd... Yuito thinks. Shiden looks, maybe, different... Nagi muses. The two exchange glances.

Shiden's hair is done to perfection, his skin sparkles with a heavenly hue, and Yuito and Nagi can both smell how well he's showered, even from where they stood — and they were a good fifteen feet away from him.

“Ah, yes,” the film maker swoons, opening his arms to Shiden, as if presenting him in an exhibit. “This... YOU!” He jabs a finger at him all exaggerated like. “The presentation; the hair; that rich, fresh smell.” He sniffs the air. “Is that... Nipon Pride I smell — the dandruff annihilator!”

The man begins to sob into his arm for some reason. “You — what is your name?”

“Shiden Ritter.”

The man sobs. “Shiden! YOU are what I have been looking for all along — the perfect Yuito Sumeragi. For my perfect film. You shall be the shining star of this production. The face of my film!”

Shiden falls quiet. Something simmers but that's all it amounts to. Instead Shiden crosses his arms. “Yeah. Yeah...” he says with a nod of agreement. “You know talent when you see it. Though I'm not particularly happy about playing the spoiled Sumeragi kid but —“

“I'm right here!” an affronted Yuito cuts in.

Nagi has other concerns. “Hey,” he whines at the film maker, “I thought I was the star of this film.”

With a saucy swing of his hips and a hard pivot on his heels — not to mention the shrug up to his ears — the film maker addresses him. “That's show biz, kid. Things change. There is always someone bigger, better, brighter, and more marketable out there. It's nothing personal.”

Nagi stammers. “But-but-but...”

Leaving poor Nagi dumbfounded about losing his role, the film maker screeches, “From the top!” and filming resumes like nothing happened before.

The filming continues. Nagi and Yuito return to ad libbing again, only this time with the addition of Shiden. Shiden is insufferable, to put it lightly. They become stuck on one scene because it has to be perfect, otherwise Shiden will throw a conniption fit.

Shiden is busy blowing Nagi's and Yuito's ears out with more insults than five star bakery when Hanabi suddenly appears, dressed her absolute best. “Umm, excuse me,” she says, interrupting the current scene.

“CUUUUUUUUT!” screeches the film maker. Both Shiden and Nagi have vengeful eyes on Hanabi as the film maker whips around to her. “What?” he asks derisively.

“I-is,” she begins cautiously, “this where the movie 'Undead Dead Alive' is being filmed?”

The man's features soften and he answers with a supercilious chuckle. “Oh ho! So you have heard?”

Hanabi nods. “Yes... Did I miss anything important?”

“Not at all,” he says and paws at the air with one hand. “You wish to watch?”

“Yes please,” Hanabi nearly blurts.

“Then feast your eyes on true art. A short film that will surely shake the industry. A genius of my —“

And Shiden can be heard saying, “Can we get back to filming please,” interrupting him.

“Yeah,” Nagi chimes in, all hoity toity, “I don't got all day, you know.”

The film maker isn't bothered by their growing snark in the slightest. In fact he acts more like a proud parent. He chuckles. “Ugh!” he says to Hanabi. He smiles. “Such divas, no?”

Filming continues. Hanabi watches intently. The camera-carrying drone whizzes this way and that for close ups or complicated action shots. Finally, during a suspenseful scene — where Yuito's and Nagi's characters dual to the death — Hanabi says, “It seems like something... might be missing...”

“CUUUUUUUUUUUUT!” screeches the film maker. As the three boys go still, he turns to her. “Explain!” he screeches again.

“Well,” Hanabi says, feigning that no particular thought, particularly, in particular, has crossed her mind yet. “I don't know. I guess it doesn't make sense why Yuito and Nagi are fighting.”

“Mark Albert and Yakumo Sumeragi,” the film maker says vaguely.

Hanabi is confused. And when she does not reply, the film maker speaks on, primed to get his point across.

“Here, they are Mark Albert and Yakumo Sumeragi. And as long as they are here they will remain so. So please kindly call them by their names!”

“Y-yes... It doesn't makes sense,” Hanabi says, “that Mark and Sumeragi Yakumo are fighting... I mean what's the purpose? Why are they fighting?”

That is a good question. The film maker pauses then turns to his trio of actors. “Why are you two fighting?”

“Well, um,” says Nagi nervously. Yuito's gaze falls as his friend says this. “We just thought... you know...”

“It seemed cool?” Yuito finishes for Nagi, with a shrug. His head drops further, Nagi's joining his, when he realizes how dumb it sounds.

The film maker returns his attention to Hanabi. “What do you suggest then?”

“Oh, well...” Hanabi looks embarrassed and oh so innocent. But everything she is doing has a purpose. Everything she says is by design. “I don't know. I'm not very good at this kind of stuff. I'm not a creative, smart, film maker like you. My idea will probably just suck anyway...”

“Please!” the man begs her, all but falling on his knees. “You said something was missing. What is it?”

Hanabi hums to herself. It is long and drawn out and has the man teetering on the tip of his toes. Finally Hanabi answers, “A love interest.”

“A love interest?”

“A love interest?” Shiden asks in distaste.

“A love interest?” Nagi asks with a hint of protest.

“A love interest?” Yuito asks, nodding with a sort of ambivalent agreement.

The film maker's lips purse. With a knuckle to chin and brows tightly knit, he blurts, “GENIUS!” shocking everyone around him. “That's exactly what my film needs”

“It does?” Shiden and Nagi ask. They look defeated by the declaration, as if their careers — well before they ever flew off — are over. They also look somewhat disgusted.

The man yells at them for daring to question his artistic vision. And then he says to Hanabi, “Do you, perhaps, have an interest in film, Miss...?”

“Ichijo,” she gives her name. “Ichijo Hanabi. And yes, yes I do.” If she wasn't interested in joining before she certainly is now, and she can hardly contain herself.

The man gasps and smiles broadly. “Ah, fortuitous! Then you shall play the love interest!”

“R-really?”

“Yes, really. You shall be the fiance of Yuito Sumeragi?”

Hanabi blushes. She can't say she disapproves. Playing the wife-to-be of Yuito — what else could she possible ever want in her life after this? She's lived to play this role. She was born to play this role. She is ready to play this role.

Too bad Shiden is playing the part of Yuito. Hanabi's whole world shatters when she discovers this.

But the filming goes on...

“From the top!” the eccentric film maker screams like a banshee when everyone is in place.

But the film doesn't get very far when Kyoka appears — hair done, dressed her best, yada yada. Her appearance can't be a coincidence, can it, everyone of the actors wonder.

“Oh hello,” Kyoka says all innocent like. “This wouldn't be the filming location for your upcoming movie, would it?” Kyoka smiles gently at the man.

She is added to the film. No surprise, really.

Filming commences once more, only to be stopped yet again.

“Hello there,” Kagero says with his most charming smile. “Is this film in need of a heart throb?” He winks, Hanabi cringes, Shiden crosses his arms and scoffs, Yakumo wonders why he allowed Kagero to rope him into this in the first place, and the film maker screeches like a school girl in love.

“Of course! Of course! A film cannot be without, at the very least, a dash of sex appeal,” the film maker squeals.

Yakumo, looking about himself, confused, irritated, and resigned, begrudgingly wonders again why he is there. This time out loud. Kagero ignores him.

As expected, posthaste, the two are cast in the film. Kagero as fan service and Yakumo playing the roles of zombie A, B, C, D, and zombie A1 — a more enhanced version of zombie A, apparently.

Again the film starts from the top:

“What are you talking about?” Hanabi sobs, as Yuito's love interest.

“I-I have to do this,” Shiden says; his acting isn't half bad. “If I don't, all that we have, all that we hold dear, will be destroyed.”

“But... But... Isn't he your ancestor? What will happen to you?”

Panting and gasping, Nagi bursts on scene. “They're at the gate, we don't have much time!” he yells.

It's enough to make Shiden break character. He snaps at Nagi. Viciously. “HEY! You had your moment last scene!” He frowns.

Kyoka, Hanabi, Yuito, Yakumo, and even Kagero nod in agreement.

But Nagi returns Shiden's scowl. There is defiance in his eyes. “I am as much an actor in this film as you are! I deserve screen time too!”

“Yeah, but your screen time just always happens to be during someone else's big moment.”

“Actually,” Hanabi says, looking guilty for what she's about to say, “Shiden's right. You are kind of a screen hog, Nagi...”

“For sure,” Yuito agrees, sounding somewhat relieved that he isn't the first to say it.

“Sharing is caring, Nagi,” Kyoka chimes in.

The rest come cascading in with similar complaints or reprimands.

The has camera long since stopped rolling. The film maker is looking on at them, shaking his head. Everyone either looks annoyed with Nagi or disappointed with him. That won't do at all, the film maker tells himself as he approaches his disgruntled actors.

“Listen,” he says to Nagi gingerly, “I understand we all want to be stars. But daylight is burning. Time is wasting.”

“But he's hogging up all my screen time,” Nagi and Shiden both reply in sharp unison, pointing at the other in a fruitless blame game.

The sound is enough to make the film maker wince, and he wonders if that's what he sounds like whenever he screams. Nah. “Okay,” he says, working out how they can fix this problem, “how about this? You each get an equal amount of screen time. No self-injecting. No arguing. No more time wasted. Kay?”

Shiden is for it; everyone else is for it. But Nagi takes time to come around. When he finally does the filming is able to commence once more.

It takes about a few hours but the film is finished. That's it. With the sun setting and shadows growing longer, it is about time they wrap things up anyway. Still... there is an odd feeling lingering in the air.

Filming ended so... quickly. Too quickly. No one questions it though. They just let it hang in the air.

“So...” begins a hopeful Nagi. “When will we be getting paid?”

The film maker is gathering up his things. But he pauses at Nagi's question. Just goes stiff. Everyone now looks expectantly at him. “Well... Uh... Soon?” He does not sound sure, and it is this that causes Kyoka to approach him.

Motherly hands on her hips, face fixed in a ready-to-nag-and-chastise scowl, she demands to know when “soon” is.

The man offers a nervous laugh. “Ah, yes... About that...”

Shiden slaps his face with a palm, his expression of one who's been physically wounded. “Huuuuuuugh... we're not getting paid are we?”

“What?” Nagi shrieks in despair. “What do you mean we're not getting paid?” He looks at everyone for an answer. But all he receives are looks as disappointed as his own.

“Okay so,” Nagi turns to the man, “we won't be getting paid. No big deal, right? You're a film maker and that movie will be playing in theaters, right? At least I'll be famous.”

Yuito, feeling Nagi going through the stages of grief, places a hand on his shoulder. When Nagi looks back at him, hopeful, Yuito shakes his head. No.

“But-but-but-but... I was supposed to be famous. Girls were supposed to want me! Guys were supposed to worship me!”

“We've been duped...” Yakumo grumbles shrewdly. “I was especially hoping I'd get a little something. You know, for being dragged here against my will and all. Guess that's not happenin'.”

“More like scammed...” Kagero corrects him.

“Same difference...”

Shiden steps toward the culpable looking film maker. “So wait, what is this film for anyway, then?”

It's a simple question for sure. But the man burst into tears. Long story short: it's a school project. The film maker — correction: film student — has exactly today to turn in his rushed, poorly acted, non-scripted film. He flunks the class otherwise.

“I used all of my inheritance to get into that school. I won't let my dreams die. I won't!” he sobs pitifully.

Wow. This guy is pathetic. But they can't help but feel bad for him. Their pity doesn't last long though before the anger sets in. In the end what is this all worth? All the fighting? All the vying for the spotlight? They may never know.