>>1410372

“Just stay calm,” you whisper to yourself, drawing in a shuddering breath to steady your nerves, “Think, Miho, think... start small.” Biting your lip, you turn the photograph over and check the back for any writing. Names maybe, or dates. Anything could help, but even your lowest expectations were proven to be wildly optimistic. Confronted with nothing but blank paper, you find yourself back to square one. Next, you start to flick through the book itself. Maybe someone left a note in one of the margins, or the owner wrote their name on the inside cover. Again, anything would help.

And this time, your search bears fruit. Up in the top corner of the first blank page, someone left a marking in faded pencil. A single Japanese character, and you're so used to seeing English text that it takes you a while to place it.

Hikari – it translates to “light”, but it's also a woman's given name.

“Was that your name?” you ask the young woman in the photograph, “Are you Hikari?”

There is no answer from the photograph. Well, that's probably for the best. You do get a different kind of answer, however, not the sort you were expecting. Your phone begins to chirp, the sound muffled by your bag. That chirping ring goes a long way towards dragging you back to reality, back from a precipice that you hadn't realised you were approaching. Grabbing your phone, you check the screen and grimace. An unknown number. Blanking the call, you flop back down and groan.

How would the others react, you wonder, if they were in your place? Ayane wouldn't let the matter go – she would chase the truth down, even if took every last bit of strength in her body. Maika, though? Well, she'd probably just pay someone to edit her memories, and-

“Shit!” you blurt out, sitting bolt upright so fast that your bedsprings let out a shrill squeal. What did Maika call it, neurological something or other? Sculpting, that was it, neurological sculpting – as though it was some twisted artistry. Could someone have done that to you, you ask yourself, could you have been the one to request it?

“I don't know which one is worse,” you mutter. If someone did this to you, it's bad – you'd have to ask yourself just who you could trust from now on. If you did this to yourself, though... you'd have to know why. You'd have to know what you were hiding from. Even after the incident, all those lives lost, you didn't try and burn your memories. So then-

That chirp again, mockingly jaunty. The same unknown number as before, distracting you when you need to think. Blanking the call again, you turn your phone off completely and drop it back into your bag.

It's probably not important, and you're not in the mood to take any calls. Not right now.

[2/3]

>>1410373

Taking another deep breath, you step out of your bedroom and wander through the apartment, marvelling at how quickly it can seem like a new and unfamiliar place. The television whispers softly in the background, the sound turned right down low, while your mother stares transfixed into the screen. The news is reporting a storm warning, something expected to arrive in a few weeks. Something else you'll need to worry about.

“Miho?” your mother asks, without looking around at you, “Are you okay?”

Where do you even start, with a question like that? Instead of answering, you make your tentative way over to a plump armchair and collapse down into it, feeling the familiar old chair sag in all the usual places. Risking a glance across at your mother, you wince a little at the sight of her face. Often a strangely colourless woman, now Yui looks worse than ever – faded and beaten down by life. She knows something about this, she has to, but that look on her face is almost enough to make the drop the issue. Almost. Biting down on your lip, you start to ask the first of many questions.

And then the phone rings, the landline this time.

-

“Yes, this is the Tsukada... Wait a... Who?” Yui says quickly, seeming to recover her strength upon picking up the phone, “I see. Miho, it's for you. Did you turn your phone off?” Giving you a flat, unreadable look, your mother passes the phone across to you. Pressing it to your ear, you hear the rush of wind and frantic breathing. City noise hums in the background, barely audible.

“You need to get over here,” Maika Kanzaki announces immediately, before you can say anything, “Now. I'll send the directions to you phone, just as soon as you turn the damn thing on!”

“Wait, wait!” you plead, “What are you talking about?”

“I've got a credible lead on our third party, I'm following them now. They're heading your way, I want you to cut them off,” Maika pauses for a moment, and you hear a louder rush of air. Is she leaping across rooftops? “I can't reach Ayane either,” she adds, her voice taut with exertion, “I'll explain later, but you need to get moving!”

For a brief second, you pause. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Yui retreating away – to let you talk in privacy, she might say, although you can sense an element of relief in her as well. Then, swallowing hard, you give your answer.

>Alright, I'm coming to help!
>I can't come, I'm in the middle of something right now
>Other

>>1410374
>>Alright, I'm coming to help!
>Mom, I want to know what this photograph is about when I get back!

>>1410374
>Alright, I'm coming to help!
We'll shelve this for later

>>1410374
>>Alright, I'm coming to help!

>>1410376
Seconding

>>1410374
>Alright, I'm coming to help!

Clenching your eyes shut for a moment, you bite back a curse, or maybe just a wordless groan of frustration. Then, having forced every drop of tension and uncertainty to the back of your mind, you open your eyes. “Alright,” you reply firmly, “I'm coming to help. What do you need me to do?”

“Get your phone. Do have any AR glasses? Get those as well,” Maika's instructions are clipped, almost curt, “I'll mark my position, and the target. We'll see if we can cut him off. Now go on, we don't have time to waste!” The call dies after that, cut short before you can get another word in. Despite her insistence, you're left staring at the handset for a moment more. How did she even get this number?

“Is there something wrong?” Yui asks softly, giving up any pretence that she hadn't been listening in, “Is it...”

“An emergency, I gotta go now!” you confirm, before grabbing the poetry book and slipping out the photograph, “But I want... need... to know what this photograph is all about. When I get back, okay?” You pass the photograph over, practically having to force it into her hands, and then you hurry back to your room. Grabbing your phone and an old pair of AR glasses – woefully unfashionable now – you hurry from the apartment.

As you're leaving, Yui is still staring down at the photograph, that pallid grey colour stealing back into her cheeks.

-

The very moment that you turn your phone on, it starts to ring. As you slip on the thick framed glasses, you press the phone to your ear. “I'm on my way now,” you answer immediately, before Maika can start issuing orders, “Now what's going on here?”

“Surveillance. I had a drone watching the sealed portal, when someone came along to take a look at it. They did something, I don't know what, then left. I went to investigate, and that golden net had vanished. Now, I'm in pursuit,” there is a pause, a rush of air, and then Maika continues, “He's a local man, not foreign. Well dressed, hard to guess his age. Confident, you'd know him if you saw him. Can you see my markers now?”

“Uh...” frowning behind the glasses, you watch as the world takes on a ghostly tint of blue light, “Right, I've got them. You're right, I think we can cut them off just ahead!”

Unfurling before you like a red carpet, you begin to race along the virtual path Maika paints for you. It feels good to run, to charge ahead and leave your worries behind you. You'll have to face them sooner of later, but for now... it's good to be able to run, to lose yourself in the thrill of the chase.

As you run, almost unnoticed, your scarf uncoils from around your neck to trail behind you, a faintly glowing pennant in the gloom of the night.

[1/2]

File: Maika Kanzaki.jpg (272 KB, 1080x1080)

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>>1410392

Ahead, viewed in the ghostly map of the city, you see where your target is headed – where Maika plans to cut them off. It's a discrete little alleyway, with just a single entrance and exit. The perfect place to have a quiet conversation with someone, without worrying about passers-by. A few more streets, a few more corners, and then the target will be there... and you'll arrive just in time to catch them.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you rip the ugly glasses from your face and turn into the alleyway, preparing yourself for anything. Violent resistance, a desperate escape attempt, even honest confusion... anything, any reaction that your mysterious third party might have to offer.

What you weren't expecting, however, was nothing – an empty alleyway. When Maika lands opposite you, dropping down from above, you can see that she is equally confused and frustrated.

“I saw him come in here!” she protests, “I lost sight of him for a moment, that's all – a single moment!”

“Maybe...” you begin, but you don't bother finishing that sentence. You were going to suggest searching, but there's nowhere to look. The alleyway is completely empty, no doors that the target could have gone through and nothing he could be hiding behind. “A trick?” you suggest instead, “Like... an illusion, something to mislead us?”

Maika flips up her visor to reveal a cold scowl, but before she can say anything there is the crack of a gunshot, and a golden light bursts against the ground between you. It's more like a flare or a firework than the spark of a bullet, and the sheer intensity of it causes you both to reel back. Even throwing up an arm to protect your eyes, dark spots fill your vision. Your ears ring slightly, but not so much that you can't hear what comes next – the smooth, sneering voice that drifts down from above.

“Well well,” the voice drawls, “It's late, and good little girls should be in their beds.”

Above you, a young man peers down. His clothes are fanciful, a sort of uniform that drips with ornamentation, and he carries a pistol of ancient design, a thin ribbon of smoke coiling up from the muzzle. Cocking back the hammer with his thumb, he keeps the antique weapon pointing between you and Maika.

“But maybe you're not good girls at all,” he adds slyly, “You followed us here – why?”

>We just took a wrong turn, that's all
>Put your gun down, and maybe we can talk. We don't have to be enemies
>Because I've seen your handiwork. You know about the Intruders, don't you?
>Other

>>1410413
>>Because I've seen your handiwork. You know about the Intruders, don't you?
>>Other
"Us?"

>>1410413
>Put your gun down, and maybe we can talk. We don't have to be enemies
>Because I've seen your handiwork. You know about the Intruders, don't you?

Don't ask about "us". Let him think we know about whoever "us" are.

>>1410413
>Because I've seen your handiwork. You know about the Intruders, don't you?

File: Karl Dietrich Kaplan.jpg (397 KB, 900x1256)

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“Because we've seen your handiwork,” you reply with as much calmness as you can muster up, “You know about the Intruders, don't you?”

The man makes a soft hum of amusement, his lips twitching up in a slight smile. “Is that what you call them?” he says, more to himself than to you. With the yawning mouth of his pistol never leaving you for a moment, he steps out over the edge of the roof and drops. For a single brief moment, gravity takes hold and he plunges down towards the ground, but then his descent slows to a crawl. Gold light plays around his riding boots as he falls, forming shapes that are as decorative as his garb. When he lands the man sizes you up for a moment, although his expression offers no clue as to his conclusions.

He's not the man Maika was following, you realise with a start, his features are definitely foreign. His accent too – could it have been German?

“So what do you call them?” you ask, before another thought strikes you. He said “us”, as though there were others here – perhaps the other man that Maika had been following. As carefully as possible, you glance from side to side, but you see nobody else.

“We have many names for them. Ghouls, phantoms, or demons, for the more traditional sort. Non-Material Entities, for the scientifically minded,” holding the pistol at the ready, the muzzle casually drifting between you and Maika, the man takes a step closer, “I wonder which of the two you are.”

“Put the gun down, and maybe we can discuss that,” you tell him, “We don't have to be enemies.” As you say this, you shift your weight slightly and check the distance between the man and you. A good lunge, and you could get close enough to knock the gun out of his hand. That soon proves unnecessary, however, as the man returns his pistol to its holster with a laugh. “Okay, that's a good start,” you begin, “But-”

And just like that, he's there in front of you, his hand – a thin layer of soft velvet covering his skin – gripping you by the jaw. His grip is surprisingly gentle, but firm enough to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. To your side, you grow dimly aware of Maika conjuring up her rifle and aiming it at him. For a moment, violence seems inevitable. Then:

“Karl,” a voice rings out, soft but more authoritative than any gunshot. The man laughs again, humourlessly, and then releases your jaw. “My apologies,” the voice adds, the speaker stepping smoothly out of a pool of shadow. It's a nice trick, but nothing that Kurosawa hasn't done before. “You're right, though. We don't need to be enemies,” the new man says, “My name is Jun Kiriyama, and my colleague here is Karl.”

“Karl Dietrich Kaplan,” the German elaborates, looking you hard in the eye, “I trust that you won't forget it.”

[1/2]

>>1410448
What a filthy gaijin.

>>1410448
Oh cool, that seal was the work of someone kinda-sorta-not-really like us. Wonder what Kurosawa would say about these guys?

File: Jun Kiriyama.jpg (171 KB, 850x1203)

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>>1410448

Stepping back – and trying not to flinch when your back thumps softly against the alley wall – you give Maika a careful nod. She lowers her weapon, but her face has the perfect blank of a mask. Rubbing your jaw softly, you look between the two men. “So you know about the Intruders,” you begin, in hope of finding some common ground, “Or... whatever you call them.”

“We do. For that alone, I think we should avoid any further unpleasantness,” Jun agrees, idly fiddling with his archaic watch, “If any of us were to be injured here, the people of this city would be the ones to suffer. We protect them, you see, and I suspect that you do the same.”

“Who are you people?” Maika asks, her voice as hard and clear as glass as she breaks her silence. She adds nothing to that – nothing else need be said.

“We are...” Jun begins, pursing his thin lips as he thinks to himself, “Karl, would you care to answer this one?”

“We are heirs to a magical legacy,” Karl answers immediately, a brash and boastful note creeping into his voice, “For as long as mankind has existed, we have defended it. As shamans, as magi, as wizards or sorcerers, we have wielded powers beyond the understanding of lesser men in their defence. In every occult tradition throughout history, you will find our hand and our influence. We have been known as saints and witches, priests and diabolists, but our true purpose has never wavered.”

“Although I should add, the “we” is not literal,” Jun adds, smiling at his own private joke, “We are just two members of the most recent generation. Our organisation has no true name, but I like to think of us as Sentinels.”

“Sentinels,” you repeat under your breath. The word has an exotic ring to it, as foreign as Karl's face and accent. His speech has a nice sound to it, but something about it doesn't sit quite right with you. He believes what he's saying, his words had practically burned with sincerity, but... it still doesn't sit right with you.

“I'd like to have a good long talk with you both,” Jun continues, his voice drawing you back to reality, “But now is perhaps not a good time, and this is definitely not a good place. Tomorrow, perhaps you could come here at sundown? I would be happy to escort you to a more suitable venue.” Glancing aside to Karl, the two young men share a nod. A nod that seems to signify... something. “The choice is yours,” Jun finishes as he turns away, “Tomorrow, then, if you so wish.”

>Fine. Tomorrow then
>Wait, why not today? Why not now?
>Do you know what we are?
>Wait, I need to ask you something! (Write in)
>Other

>>1410471
>Do you know what we are?
>Fine. Tomorrow then

>>1410471
>>Wait, why not today? Why not now?

>>1410471
>Wait, why not today? Why not now?

>>1410471
>>Fine. Tomorrow then
Ayane should also be present, maybe. Unless we want to be paranoid and keep her as a hidden ally if these guys turn out to be enemies.

>>1410480
We absolutely want to be paranoid, but her abilities as the Seeker of Truth could come in handy. We need to leave her behind but give her an eavesdropping line through Maika's gear.

>>1410471
>>Fine. Tomorrow then

“Wait!” you call out, before Jun and Karl can slink back into the shadows, “Why not today? Hell, why not right now?” Clenching your fists a little tighter, you take a step closer to the pair. “I'm ready, why wait?”

“You might be ready, but we might not be,” Karl snaps, frowning at you, “You're in no position to make demands, girl. If we say tomorrow... it will BE tomorrow.”

“Karl, please,” Jun shots a dark look at his companion – and just for a moment, you can see something very dark indeed in his eyes – before giving you a mild smile of apology. “However, my colleague has a point. We have a certain degree of... research that needs to be done. I fear that neither of us would benefit from a hasty meeting,” gesturing around the alleyway, Jun nods to the sooty smear that marks out where Karl's shot had landed, “Neither us wants any further misunderstandings, do we?”

His explanation is smooth enough, but something about it causes a question to spring to mind. “Hey, wait a minute...” you begin, “Do you know what we are? Is that the “research” that you're going to do?”

Pursing his lips again, Jun frowns slightly. “I will admit to a degree of uncertainty,” he answers you carefully, “If I was forced to guess your true nature, I believe that guess would be correct. However, I am not in the business of making guesses – such things can be dangerous, in our line of work. When I can be sure of something, I like to be sure of it.” Smiling that polite smile of apology again, Jun bows to you. It's more fanciful than the usual curt salaryman's bow, and you almost expect him to offer you a rose afterwards.

Then they turn and walk into a pool of shadows, vanishing without a trace. As if to confirm that they are truly gone, you stalk forwards into the shadows and stomp about at random. Definitely no trick exits – whatever else they are, they're definitely capable of magical acts.

“Fine then,” you say to the empty space, “Tomorrow.”

-

“Well now,” Maika says a few moments later, as you're leaving the alleyway together, “What a curious pair. I must admit, I wasn't expecting any of this.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “So what were you expecting?”

“I don't really know,” she admits with a graceful shrug, “Just not... this. Regardless, we'll have to let Ayane know about this. She'll find it interesting, if nothing else. Do you think we should bring her with us, tomorrow?”

“I'm still not sure if I want to show up,” you confess, “Probably, I guess, but... I don't know. Maybe we should keep Ayane as our ace in the hole. You think maybe you can rig something up so she can see what we're doing, though? I mean, you've got all those gadgets and...”

“That shouldn't be a problem,” the heiress decides, “Although she might not like it. Ayane is, I dare say, somewhat old-fashioned.”

Picturing a paper map and handwritten notes, you say nothing.

[1/2]

>>1410506

Walking out into the streets, you find yourself strangely reluctant to go straight home. The desire to wander, to roam the empty streets, seems to grow incredibly powerful as you look up at the looming buildings around you. Maybe you're afraid of what might be waiting for you at home, you realise, or what might NOT be waiting for you. Pausing in the mouth of the alleyway, you force your thoughts back to the present day.

“So what do you make of them?” you ask Maika, “Those... Sentinels.”

“Either too uncouth or too smooth,” Maika decides after a moment's thought, “And, of course, they know more than they're telling us. Did you notice, they made absolutely no mention of where they get their powers from? Something like that seems a rather important thing to omit.”

“Yeah, true,” you agree, before you frown in sudden unease, “But, I mean, could you explain where we got our powers from? A magic cat says that we get them from the gods... really convincing, right?”

“I can see that being a problem, yes,” conceding the point, Maika stretches and covers up a yawn, “Well, I suppose we've made progress today. If nothing else, we can content ourselves with that. Time to return home, I believe.”

And with that, a yawning precipice seems to open up beneath you, with the reluctance you had felt redoubling in strength. Home, suddenly, seems like the last place on earth that you want to be. The thought of your mother's pallor and unease... it's not a pleasant thing to return to. Your ill-feeling must show on your face, because Maika clears her throat delicately.

“Is there a problem?” she asks lightly, “It may be none of my business, but are you feeling quite alright?”

>Hey, can I crash at yours tonight? Home doesn't feel so appealing right now
>It's... personal. You're right, I should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika
>Other

>>1410520
>It's... personal. You're right, I should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika

>>1410520
>>Hey, can I crash at yours tonight? Home doesn't feel so appealing right now

>>1410520
>It's... personal. You're right, I should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika
Avoiding it is not gonna help

>>1410520
>It's... personal. You're right, I should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika
Don't leave mom hanging, or she might actually be hanging when we get back!

>>1410520
>>It's... personal. You're right, I should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika

“It's... personal,” you breath, “Family stuff, you know? But running from it won't help me, not really.” Drawing in a heavy breath, you square your shoulders and nod firmly. “You're right, we should be heading home. I'll see you tomorrow, Maika,” before you can head off, you pause and give the taller girl a weary smile, “But thanks for asking. I guess we've got to look out for each other, right?”

“I understand,” Maika nods briskly, bowing slightly to you, “Take care, Miho.”

As you're leaving, you hear her again – this time speaking to herself. “Family stuff,” she repeats quietly, her voice barely above a curious whisper. Wonder, perhaps, what you might have meant.

-

When you arrive back at the door to your apartment, you have to pause and steady your nerves before entering. With no idea of what to expect, it's hard to prepare yourself. As you reach out to let yourself in, a cold voice at the back of your mind reminds you of one unwelcome fact – whatever your mother tells you, you can't assume that it's the truth. Shuddering a little, you open the door and step through into the silent apartment.

The TV has been turned off completely, and you find yourself missing the soft murmur. Sitting still enough to be mistaken for an item of furniture, your eyes actually pass right over your mother at first, but then they are drawn back to her. The photograph is lying on the table in front of her, with the poetry book positioned next to it. Closing the door behind you, and pretending not to notice how Yui flinches slightly, you pull out a chair and sit opposite her.

“It's bad news,” you murmur, “Isn't it?”

“You found this in the storage room,” Yui responds. Not a question, just a statement of fact. “There's so much old junk in there, sometimes I wish...” she pauses, reaching out to touch the book slightly, “Sometimes I wish your father was able to let things go.”

Frustration starts to bubble up within you at her vague, evasive answer. With a sudden burst of aggression, you snatch the book away from Yui and open it to the first blank page. Stabbing a finger down to the paper, you point to the character drawn there. “Hikari,” you say simply, “Who is she? Who is that girl in the photo?”

“You really don't remember,” realisation, amazement, crosses Yui's face, “I always thought...”

“Just tell me!” you plead, this time reaching across to hold onto your mother's hands, “Please, just tell me!”

“Hikari,” Yui whispers, “Was your sister. Your older sister.”

In the cold and sudden silence that follows, one thing seems to rise up to the surface of your thoughts. “Was?” you repeat slowly.

“She died,” Yui's answer is exactly what you expected, what you feared, “She died, Miho.”

>That's impossible. I don't remember her at all
>How? How did it happen?
>She died... and I forgot all about her?
>I need to understand... (Write in)
>Other

>>1410568
>>She died... and I forgot all about her?

>>1410568
>How? How did it happen?
>She died... and I forgot all about her?

>>1410568
>She died... and I forgot all about her?
>How? How did it happen?

>>1410568
>She died... and I forgot all about her?
>How? How did it happen?

>>1410568
>>How? How did it happen?
>>She died... and I forgot all about her?
Is it time to despair yet?

>>1410595
Wait until we find out we were the reason she died.
Or until she comes back from the dead as an enemy, fights us, then sacrifices herself to destroy the source of the dark power that supports her unlife.

“She died,” you repeat, “...And I forgot all about her?” Just saying this, you picture white-garbed surgeons reaching into your skull with thin instruments, cutting and burning away your thoughts and memories. Sculpting, they call it, sculpting. Without meaning to, you reach an unsteady hand up to touch your temple. Searching, perhaps, for scars.

“The doctors said that it was a reaction to the trauma,” Yui explains slowly, reaching over to delicately take your hand from your head. Holding both your hands in hers, she continues. “Catatonia, they called it. You weren't in a coma – you were awake, you could eat or wash yourself – but you were... unresponsive. Lost to us, utterly lost. Then, one day, you just... came back to us. We were so relieved that we didn't mention Hikari for so long. A relapse, we thought, but when we finally mentioned her name...”

“I didn't remember her,” you whisper to yourself. Yui's hands tighten around your own for a moment, dry and papery skin shifting against your younger flesh. Then, slowly, she nods.

“You didn't recognise her name. We showed you a picture, but you didn't recognise her face. It was as though you had never known her at all,” quietly, Yui continues with her explanation, “Your father and I, we discussed it with the doctors for a long time. Your memory was still showing dangerous lapses, we still feared that you might slip away from us again. Eventually, we thought that the best thing to do was just... hide it all away. We pretended that you were our only daughter. In time, you came to a full recovery, but by then... we couldn't bring ourselves to mention Hikari again. Not for your sake, but for ours.”

Swallowing heavily, you look down at your joined hands. It still doesn't seem quite right to you, but parts of it feel undeniable. Looking up, you meet Yui's shimmering eyes. “How?” you ask in a distant voice, “How did it happen?”

“The police, the doctors, they all said it was a car accident. They never found the driver, not even so much as a description of the car. Every camera in the city, and they couldn't get a single picture!” anger – the pain and anger of old wounds torn wide open once again - flares in her eyes as she almost pulls away from you, but then your mother forces herself to be calm. “For a while, we blamed the police for your condition,” she adds in a small voice, “They wouldn't stop questioning you, even though you were in such a bad way. They-”

“Wait!” you cry, “I saw it? I saw it all?”

“You were the only one there at the time,” Yui murmurs, “You were always close, the two of you. Wherever Hikari went, you would follow her. At least... at least she wasn't alone at the end.”

Her voice cracks, saying this, and you know that you will ask no more questions tonight.

[1/2]

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>>1410608

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room. Sitting upright, you see a pair of golden eyes peering out from the gloom. Kurosawa, as unreadable as always, his tail slowly swishing from side to side. He watches you for a while before speaking up.

“Your Emotional Barrier is compromised,” he announces simply, “You will be in danger if an Intruder attacks now.”

You don't answer him with words – instead, you grab a small cushion from your bed and throw it at him. The plump cushion passes straight through the cat, thumping softly against the wall and falling to the ground. Groaning a little, you flop back down and return to your exciting task of staring at the ceiling.

“I'm concerned about you,” Kurosawa continues, after what he probably considers a respectful pause, “I suggest focusing on other matters.”

“You don't sound concerned!” you spit, sitting up again. This time, Kurosawa is sitting on the end of your bed. Sighing sadly to yourself, you reach over and stroke him. He tolerates it, as he has always done. “I just don't know what to do,” you murmur, barely thinking about what you're saying, “I don't... I don't feel like myself. I don't know what that should feel like. What should I do?”

“The Heavenly Child must be strong, when others are weak. She cannot falter, no matter what. What has passed has passed. The future stretches out before you,” rasping these words gently into your mind, the cat continues, “You can still save lives. You can make this city a better place, a safer place for everyone. This is your duty, but it can also be your strength. Be strong, Heavenly Child, and you will be victorious.”

Sighing, you wipe your eyes clear and touch Kurosawa's “fur” again. It doesn't really feel like anything, a reminder that the creature is no natural thing. Maybe he's right – you told Ayane that the past can't be changed, now you're having to be told that yourself.

“I'll leave you, if you wish,” Kurosawa decides after a moment, “I will not press the matter.”

>Thank you for trying, Kurosawa, but I need to be alone right now
>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?
>That tomb thing I saw, do you know what it is yet?
>Can you start to look for one of those other girls? We might need their help soon...
>Other

>>1410651
>>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?

>>1410651
>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?

>>1410651
>>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?
>>That tomb thing I saw, do you know what it is yet?

>>1410651
>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?
>Can you start to look for one of those other girls? We might need their help soon...
It'll be a while before we can have anything like trust with thing 1 and thing 2. Bolstering our numbers can't hurt.

>>1410651
>Those two men we met today... could you tell anything about them?
>That tomb thing I saw, do you know what it is yet?

And the thing is, he really would leave if you asked him to. Kurosawa has always been careful about that, respecting your boundaries. Oh, he'd endlessly nag you about your Barrier if school was stressing you out, but when you seriously needed time on your own... he'd be all too willing to give you space. A more cynical mind might find it suspicious.

Still, he's got a point. Focusing on other matters might be better for you, for your Emotional Barrier. “Those two men we met today,” you begin, “You were watching, right? I mean, you know what happened between us.”

“I am aware,” Kurosawa confirms, “What do you wish to know?”

“Well, just... what did you think?” shrugging, you make a vague gesture that mean precisely nothing, “Could you tell anything about them?”

“You should be careful,” the cat warns you, “They bear the scent of Intruders about them. I cannot explain it properly, but they wear a trace of the Umbra about them like shrouds. Just like their magic, it is something that I've never seen before.”

“Huh,” you mutter, “That's... wait a minute. That Karl, he said that they were ancient. Really ancient – could they really have been hidden all this time?” Rising from your bed, you pace the length of the room as you think. “Because, uh, we didn't have to look very hard to find them. It just doesn't seem to add up.”

“No,” Kurosawa agrees, narrowing his eyes to thin slits, “It doesn't.”

When he says nothing more about that, no matter how long you wait, you let out a weary sigh. “Fine, whatever. What about that tomb thing I saw before, have you been able to learn anything about it?” leaning against the wall, you glance out the window and watch the traffic for a while, “Like... what even is it? It felt old, real creepy, and that weird keyhole thing...”

“I believe that it is a source of the Intruders. Possibly THE source,” choosing his words with care, Kurosawa begins his explanation, “Filth that has pooled and stagnated, centred around an utterly ancient member of their kind. From this source, countless younger Intruders – if they can be said to have ages – burrow into your world. This blight must be destroyed.”

“An ancient Intruder,” you muse, “Tyrant class?”

“Beyond Tyrant class,” Kurosawa corrects you gravely, “It exists on a level of its own. Without stripping away the layers of its defences, I cannot tell much for certain. Find the Tyrants, and you will be able to forge keys. Forge keys, and you can progress deeper into the labyrinth. Perhaps the Heavenly Child will be able to destroy this source of evil.”

“Yeah?” you remark with a thin and weary smile, “Sounds like we'd be putting ourselves out of a job.”

[1/2]

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>>1410691

Kurosawa is silent for a while, and you're almost able to lose yourself in the traffic shifting outside. At this time of night, the only vehicles out on the road are the automated trucks, guided by the city AI. You watched a program about it once, about-

“Your Emotional Barrier has begun to stabilise,” Kurosawa announces suddenly, “This is good. I'm glad that you're able to focus on the future. We have a lot of hard work ahead of us.”

“I guess so,” you agree, “And it might be too hard to do it all alone. Could you start to look for one of those other girls? I don't trust those Sentinels yet, and it can't hurt to have a few extra hands about. Plus...”

“Having colleagues will help to maintain your Emotional Barrier. Having... friends,” Kurosawa says slowly, “Cooperation is the child of Wisdom and Compassion, both Great Virtues in their own right.”

“And Discord is a curse,” you finish, completing his old platitude, “I know, I know. So can you look for them or not?”

“I can look,” Kurosawa agrees, “But it may take time. There are many souls in this city, finding two individuals is no easy task, even for one such as I.” Stretching out on your bed, the cat almost looks natural for a moment. Then he flickers, appearing on a nearby shelf. “I can look,” he repeats, “I will tell you when I find a trace. Then, we can search together – it may be easier to convince them if we approach them together.”

“Sure,” you mutter, “Who could refuse a cute face like this?”

“I see,” the cat pauses, “I will begin my search.”

You glance around to answer him, but Kurosawa is already gone.

-

Morning comes. Yui seems perfectly calm as she eats her breakfast, and for a brief moment you find yourself wondering if the previous night's conversation had been a dream. Then you notice the old family photograph, slipped into a cheap and improvised frame, sitting by the television. The whole room feels more complete with it there, and the whole apartment feels more like a home than ever. When you hurry away to school, you find yourself smiling slightly.

Walking along the usual route, you can't help but glance at every girl you pass, wondering if one of them might be one of your future colleagues. None of them really look like a Temptress or an Executioner, true, but you'd hardly say that you look like a Heavenly Child either.

As you're approaching the school gates, a voice snaps you out of your daydreams. Ayane waves to you from the gate, and you hurry to approach her.

“I messed up last night, right?” she says with a wince and a smile, “I turned on my phone this morning, and I had like... a million missed calls from Maika. What did I miss?”

“Well,” you begin with a sigh, “At least she didn't call you at home...”

[2/3]

>>1410722

As you walk to class with Ayane, you recount the events of the previous night. She listens with a mixture of excitement and regret, wincing whenever you mention her being out of contact. Halfway through the story, as you're sitting at your desks, a sudden silence falls over the class.

As if she had never left, Maika slips through the open door and takes a seat at the desk next to yours, brushing a long curtain of black hair away from her face as she does so. Seemingly oblivious to the whispers that rise up in her wake, Maika fixes Ayane with a withering glare. “Where were you?” she asks simply, “I couldn't reach you last night. Not your phone, not your apartment. Where were you?”

“Hey, c'mon, it was family stuff. My mom got some time off for once, and we went out for a meal. We all turned our phones off, all three of us,” Ayane doesn't back down, crossing her arms and meeting Maika's gaze, “Sure, this job is important, but my family are more important to me. I'm sorry, Maika, but that isn't gonna change.”

“Hold on,” you interrupt quickly, before the pair can descend into a proper argument, “Let's not be hasty. Maybe this worked out okay, better than expected. As far as they know, there are only two of us. We can work with that.”

“Yeah?” Ayane takes a moment to calm herself, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we go and meet them while you listen in. You can be our ace in the hole,” you offer, “Like, a secret weapon!”

“So, uh, you sorta seem to think we NEED a secret weapon,” frowning, Ayane fiddles with her glasses, “Shouldn't we be honest with these people? If they find out that we're bullshitting them – and they might know already, see? - that's not gonna help any business relationship. For all we know, they could be testing us.”

“It's possible,” Maika admits, “But they're already being coy with us. I'd much rather keep a few secrets of our own. Regardless, Miho, I'll leave this decision with you. Of the three of us, you seem to have the best intuition.”

Intuition. Right.

>We're not meeting with them. Kurosawa thinks they might be somehow involved with the Intruders. We can't risk it
>Let's be honest with them. Ayane, you'll come with us when we meet them
>I'd rather keep our numbers hidden. Ayane, I want you to listen in when we meet them
>Other

>>1410722
Is this the moment where Kurosawa decides to becomes a cute girl?
>>1410749
>I'd rather keep our numbers hidden. Ayane, I want you to listen in when we meet them

>>1410749
>>I'd rather keep our numbers hidden. Ayane, I want you to listen in when we meet them

>>1410749
>I'd rather keep our numbers hidden. Ayane, I want you to listen in when we meet them

Shaking your head, you lean on the desk and let out a heavy sigh. “I'd rather keep our numbers hidden,” you tell Ayane, “So I want you to listen in when we meet them. Maika says she has a way of doing it.”

“It's really quite simple,” Maika says smoothly, clearly pleased that you've taken her side of the dispute, “You recall, of course, that equipment I was using. I have a pair of glasses with a full camera and microphone set – a full recording suite, really – that can send the full feed back to you. It will be as good as being there, I assure you.”

“Oh man,” Ayane groans, “Do I have to wear the full suit? I mean, no offence Maika, but it's kinda...”

“Just the helmet,” you assure her quickly, “Right Maika?”

“That will be all that's needed, yes,” the heiress agrees, “The full suit would be required for tactile feedback, but I don't have the facilities to record or stream that sort of thing. Yet.” That “yet” hangs in the air like a threat, and even Maika senses the slight awkwardness. “Regardless, it will be perfectly discrete,” she adds smoothly, “You won't be in any danger, Ayane, I can promise you that.”

“Hey, man, I'm not worried about me,” Ayane protests, “I'm gonna be the one tucked up all safe and sound. You're the ones who're gonna be trapped with Nazi Occult and his buddy. He shot at you guys!”

“He missed!” you argue, although Ayane's crude nickname for Karl has left a foolish smile playing around your lips, “Deliberately, I mean. Hey, look, I'm not saying it's perfectly safe or anything, but this is a risk we've got to take. If things go seriously wrong – I mean, really badly wrong – you'll come and help us, right?”

“Guess so,” Ayane says reluctantly, slouching her shoulders as the first teacher of the day strolls in. That spells an end to your conversation, and the start to another day at school.

Uneventful, as school tends to be. At first.

>I'm going to pause things here for today, and pick up tomorrow. If anyone has any questions, I'll answer them as best I can
>And thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1410797
Thanks for running!

How long until it is revealed all magical girls have to fight each other until only one is left?

>>1410818

Oh, I don't think we have to worry about that just yet!

>>1410842
>just yet!
At least you confirmed it

>>1410797
Thanks for running, Moloch!

Ark Institute is the jewel in the crown of Ark City's school system, and one of the world's most highly regarded schools. The reputation is well-deserved, but the fees are priced to match. For most, Ark Institute is far out of their reach. The most gifted students from some of the other, “lesser” schools are sometimes granted scholarships, and the children of corporate families are regularly given places. That's how you got your place here, your father's position at Renko Biotech.

The problem is, you're expected to follow in his footsteps – and that means taking some truly awful classes. Biochemistry among them, your particular least favourite. After a leisurely lunch on the poorly-named “roof”, you were left alone with a list of barely comprehended equations. Something to do with... something.

So when Kurosawa's gruff voice sprung to life in the back of your mind, you almost felt like rejoicing. When his words sink in, though, your relief turns into a sickly guilt.

“I can sense an Intruder close by,” he warns you, words forming in your mind, “It's already breaking through from the Umbra. One floor below you, there's a human close by. You need to move now, before the Intruder takes them.”

And so, knowing that you are performing a sacred duty and not – in fact – cutting class, you stand up and hastily blurt some excuse about feeling sick. Covering your mouth and groaning a little for effect, you hurry from the classroom before anyone can stop you.

-

Once you're out into the corridor, you break into a run and head for the stairwell. As you run, you call out to Kurosawa. “What are we looking at here?” you ask, “Thrall? Demon class?”

“Classification unclear,” Kurosawa answers bluntly, “Something is interfering with my senses, I cannot get a clear reading.” There is a short pause as you bang through the door and start to clatter down the stairs. “However,” the spirit adds, in a tone that aims for reassuring, “The Intruder is definitely below Tyrant class.”

“Oh great,” you snap back, “That's good to know. Where is it?”

“Up ahead, on your left,” the cat tells you, “The music room, by the windows.”

Nodding curtly, you focus on hauling open the door to the music room. There, right ahead of you as you enter, you see both the girl and the portal. The girl – golden haired and vaguely familiar – is standing transfixed in front of a rippling window, while thin and spindly fingers reach out from within. There's something faintly spidery about them, about the way they reach out to encircle the girl. Not snatching and pulling her into the portal, so must as... coaxing her to get closer.

You don't have time to think. You just act.

[1/2]

>>1412405

Running forwards, you grab the girl in a tight grip and throw yourself to the side, dragging her down and pulling her away from the portal as you go. She rather breaks your fall when you land, a thin cry escaping from her as she is broken from whatever trance she had been lulled into. Heaving yourself up, you catch a glimpse of her face. She looks like she has foreign blood to go with that blonde hair of hers, and her face is still strangely familiar to you.

The girl's eyes widen suddenly, and for a moment it looks as though she is about to cry out in fear. The scream that builds on her lips never forms, thankfully, and her eyes roll back into her skull as she faints dead away. Pushing yourself away from limp body, you roll over and glance back to the portal. Those probing fingers have bent back on themselves now, spreading out from the edge of the portal and clinging to the window. From within, a thicker arm reaches out to blindly paw about for any sign of prey.

“...Thrall class... confirmed...” Kurosawa's voice comes to you through a thick haze of static, as if he was speaking to you over a poor quality phone connection rather than speaking directly into your mind. “Portal seems unstable...” the word fade in and out as Kurosawa continues, “Avoid... out of there... dangerous.”

“What?” you call back, “Kurosawa, what's wrong with-”

And then the girl, still beneath you, is fighting to rise up again. Her eyes still show pure white, devoid of any sense or reason, but she struggles against you regardless. Blurting out a curse, you freeze for a moment. To your left, that great formless paw is still raking back and forth for any sign of you. To your right, the girl is clawing fruitlessly at you as she tries to wriggle free. Between the thin froth gathering at the corners of her mouth and the awful yowling noises she makes, there's definitely something wrong with her.

There is, you must admit, a lot of stuff going wrong lately.

>Focus on getting the girl to safety, even if she fights you all the way
>Try and force the Intruder to retreat
>Cross over to the Umbra and take on the Intruder there
>Other

>>1412408
>Try and force the Intruder to retreat
Push that girl away again and then being your fist down hard on the 'wrist' of that claw.

>>1412408
>>Try and force the Intruder to retreat

>>1412408
>>Try and force the Intruder to retreat
Put the girl in the instrument storage or something.

>>1412408
>Focus on getting the girl to safety, even if she fights you all the way

Thralls, generally speaking, aren't made of very stern stuff. They don't have particularly advanced minds either, with little more than hunger and self-preservation guiding them. It makes them both easy to fight and difficult to destroy, as they tend to flee at the first sign of serious resistance. Normally, it can be a real pain in the ass, but you can turn it to your advantage as well. Like now, when you just need to get the damn thing to back off...

But first, you've got the thrashing girl to deal with. Grabbing her by the lapels of her uniform blazer, you start to push her back and away from the portal. She fights you all the way, although her struggles aren't focused or determined enough to shake you off. When she lets out a shriek like a scalded cat, though, you're started into taking a step back. As soon as your grip loosens, she starts to flail once more, one fist catching you in the eye and sending a bolt of pain through your skull.

“That's it!” you snap at her, seizing her once more, “I'm through playing nice!” Grabbing her with enough ferocity that she is stunned, you push her back and haul open the door to an instrument closet. Without sparing her another glance, you shove the girl inside and slam the door shut. Hearing faint thumps and crashes coming from the closet – and ignoring them – you turn back to the groping paw. The Collapsed Star Knuckles take shape around your wrist as you summon them, your fists clenching in anticipation.

When the hand reaches away from you, you step smoothly forwards and bring one fist down like an executioner's axe, striking the hand at the wrist. The impact shudders up the length of your arm and something – not bone, but something close – shatters beneath you. As an awful squeal pierces your mind, the arm jolts up and pulls back into the strangely flickering portal. All the while, it flaps and flops like a beached fish. It retreats back into the portal, while the skeletal fingers around the edges dig in deeper.

And then the portal is wiped away in a flare of static, disappearing so suddenly that the fingers are neatly severed. They fall to the floor with soft thuds, boiling away into black smoke and vanishing. From the closet, the banging noises come to an abrupt end.

“No trace of the Intruder,” Kurosawa says suddenly, his words coming through clear and sharp once again, “Good work, Heavenly Child.”

“It's not dead,” you argue, “It just ran.”

“Good enough,” the cat replies firmly, “Engaging would have been a mistake, there were too many uncertainties. If you had gone through that portal, and it had closed behind you...” He falls silent for a moment, a grave silence. “Well, I know that you dislike an emergency withdrawal,” he finishes lamely, “It would have been an unnecessary grievance.”

“Yeah, I-” you begin, but a groan from the instrument closet cuts you off.

[1/2]

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>>1412428

When you open the closet door, the girl practically wilts into your arms. Grunting under her sudden weight, you lower her to the ground and get a good look at her face. It's definitely familiar, although you can't quite summon a name. Her skin is pale and glistens with a layer of cold sweat, but she seems unharmed. Not quite conscious either, lingering somewhere between passing out and waking up again.

“Is she one of them?” you ask suddenly, “One of those girls you were looking for?”

“No,” Kurosawa replies immediately, “She's quite normal. I'm afraid our search won't be that easy.”

“Damn,” you mutter as the girl starts to rouse herself. “Hey, take it easy!” you urge her, “You, uh... you fainted, I guess. Are you feeling okay now?”

“Fainted?” the girl murmurs, a strange accent blurring her words, “Guess I shouldn't have skipped lunch today, huh?” She can manage a smile after that, so she can't be in too bad of a shape. American, that's what her accent is – like something pulled right out of a cowboy movie. That accent, as much as anything else, causes you to smile back at her. As you help her to her feet, the blonde girl runs a hand through her hair and blinks a few times, then grins. “Hey, you're in the year above me, right?” she asks, “I'm Chiaki. Chiaki Jackson.”

And then you realise why she was so familiar. Her face is an almost perfect match for her sister, a girl who had been in your year. Miura, her name had been, and if not for that resemblance you would never have taken them for sisters. Miura, as you recall, had been a quiet and serious student. She spoke carefully, to keep her accent under control, and dyed her hair black to fit in better.

She had also been one of the first to die, when the incident happened. One of the Intruders had wrapped itself around her like a hideous parody of an octopus, then slid back into the Umbra. Normal human beings don't come back from that, not ever. They never did find a body, as with so many others.

“You should go to the nurse,” you tell Chiaki sternly, trying not to think about her sister's fate, “I'll take you, if you-”

“Hey, it's Miho, right?” she interrupts, “Can I get your number? Y'know, maybe we can hang out some time!” Perhaps catching a look on your face, the perky girl laughs suddenly. “It's nothing like that,” she assures you, “Just to say thanks, y'know? Pay you back for helping me like this!”

You pause here. Making friends carelessly, Kurosawa warned you once, can be dangerous – for both them and you. Losing a friend can be drastic to an Emotional Barrier, after all. But then again... it must be nice, having a wide circle of friends.

>I'm sorry, Chiaki, I'm not someone you want to hang out with
>Sure, let's hang out sometime!
>Other

>>1412448
>>Sure, let's hang out sometime!

>>1412448
>Sure, let's hang out sometime!

>>1412448
>Sure, but....
>I'm not sure if there's much for me to tell you about your sister.

>>1412481
This doesn't have anything to with her sister. She just thinks we saw her faint and helped her up.

>>1412487
She knows Miho's name.

>>1412488
Still, it seems pretty damn tactless to go 'But how bout your dead sister tho' when she's just asking to hang out.

If it comes up it comes up, but let her do it.

At some point, pragmatism has to give way to a softer kind of mindset. Maybe it would be better to close yourself off to “normal” people and rely on your fellow warriors for support, but what kind of life would that really be? Living like that, you might as well be a soldier. Just like Ayane will put her family first, maybe you've earned the right to make a few concessions. Friends are one of them.

“Sure,” you tell Chiaki with a faintly foolish smile, “We should hang out sometime!” Taking out your phone, you prepare to type in the new number when Chiaki throws an arm around your shoulder and taps her phone against your own. Before you can read the new information that appears on the screen, Chiaki sweeps her arm up towards the ceiling and snaps a flurry of quick photographs – each one capturing your dazed, startled expression.

“Nice!” she announces, tapping your phone again to transfer across the photographs, “It's, like, a souvenir of our first conversation!”

“Right, right,” you agree slowly, “So, uh, how about we head over to the nurse's office? I mean, you seem fine, but...”

“No harm in taking chances,” Chiaki nods quickly, eagerly, “And hey, this is a better way of cutting class than hiding in an empty classroom, right?”

Americans are so... lively.

-

As you're walking to the nurse's office with Chiaki, she does a good job of talking your ear off. The signal to noise ratio is horrific, but you do learn a few things about her. Namely, she's a Renko student just like you – both of her parents work for Renko Biotech, toiling away on the usual sorts of projects. Just as you reach the nurse's office, she stops to take a breath and you seize your chance.

“Hey, look,” you tell her carefully, “I feel like I should warn you. Miura, your sister... there's not much I can tell you about her. I mean, we weren't all that close or anything. Just classmates, really.” Pausing, you clear your throat awkwardly. “So if that's why you wanted my number...”

“Oh. Oh, right!” Chiaki lets out a faintly forced laugh, “No, it wasn't that. Miura, she did mention you once or twice, but it was nothing serious. Don't worry about it, I'm not about to heap a bunch of awkward questions on you, nothing like that.”

“I'm relieved,” you admit, not quite able to dismiss your unease, “But you knew my name. I figured...”

“Yeah? I guess maybe I recognised you,” for a moment, Chiaki's eyes flick away from you before returning, bright as ever, “I'm good with faces, y'know? I never forget one!”

Interesting, you think to yourself. Before you can form a reply, the door opens to reveal the nurse. A tall and rather callous man, he sighs at the sight of you. Just two more kids trying to skip class.

[1/2]

>>1412499
>seems pretty damn tactless
well she DID just punch us in the eye.

>>1412509

Lying on a firm cot and staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling – you've never had to visit the nurse, not since you took Kurosawa's bargain – you listen as Chiaki chats merrily away with the older man. He is, she confided on the walk here, her “type”, a bit of information that you really have no idea what to do with. Still, it gives you a little time to think to yourself.

“You've made a friend,” Kurosawa says slowly, speaking directly into your thoughts.

“I know, I know,” you whisper back, barely forming the words on your lips, “Are you going to scold me for being careless?”

“Not this time,” the cat replies, “I want you to keep an eye on that one. You saw what happened with the portal. You heard the interference that made our communications difficult. I believe that these anomalies might be connected with Chiaki Jackson in some form or another. It requires further research.” He pauses for a moment, and you spot the faint shape of a cat moving through the shadows. “There seems to be a great many anomalies recently,” he wonders aloud, “I do not believe this to be a coincidence.”

“Well, we're going to speak with those two tonight,” you murmur, “Maybe they'll be able to answer a few of our questions. You get anything you want me to ask them, just tell me. I figure you won't want to show your face.”

“I think that might be best,” he agrees, utter seriousness in his voice, “I prefer to act behind the curtain, if at all possible.”

No kidding.

-

You nap, without any dreams worth mentioning, until the end of the school day. As soon as possible, the nurse hurries both you and Chiaki – the only “ailing” students there – out of his sight. For a moment, you worry about the American following you when you go to meet Maika and Ayane, but she makes her own excuses. Meeting up with some friends of her own, she said, and copying their notes.

Chiaki Jackson, as you're coming to learn, is not a particularly gifted student.

Maika and Ayane are waiting for you at the school gates, although a passing observer would never mistake them for close friends. It seems that they need a third party – you, in this case – to smooth things over and bring them together. Maybe this is also part of being the Heavenly Child, uniting an otherwise divided team of misfits. Sure, you think wearily, what's a little extra responsibility?

“Chiaki Jackson?” Ayane asks, when you mention your new friend, “Yeah, uh, Shiori sort of knows her. They're not close or anything – they're too different for that, yeah? Still, nice enough girl I guess.” Shrugging, Ayane and Maika trade a glance. “So how about we get this show on the road?” Ayane adds, “No point putting this off for any longer...”

>Sure, let's go
>Do you remember what Chiaki was like after the incident?
>Is there something you need to tell us, Ayane?
>Other

>>1412548
>Do you remember what Chiaki was like after the incident?
>Is there something you need to tell us, Ayane?

>>1412548
>>Do you remember what Chiaki was like after the incident?
>Sure, let's go

>>1412548
>>Do you remember what Chiaki was like after the incident?
>>A thrall tried to take her in a classroom earlier.

>>1412548
>>A thrall tried to take her in a classroom earlier.

>>1412548
>>Sure, let's go

“Say, Ayane,” you ask as you start to head off, “Do you remember what Chiaki was like after the incident? I mean, did she ever act... strange? You know, out of the ordinary?” Asking this with a shrug, you don't expect too much in the way of an answer. She wasn't a classmate, after all, so Ayane might not know too much. On the other hand, Ayane has a habit – the same habit you have – of visiting the memorial, so...

“She grieved, you know?” Ayane begins, with an awkward glance across to Maika. When the heiress simply nods for Ayane to continue, she does so. “Like I said, she grieved normally. Brought flowers a lot in the early days, a big wreath early on and then bunches of them later on. Your pretty stereotypical picture of heartfelt yet dignified grief,” Ayane pauses again, frowning a little as she thinks about what happened next, “And then she stopped. Just like that, overnight.”

“Just like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “That seems very sudden. Did anyone ask her about it?”

“Uh, yeah. That's the thing. I mentioned it to Shiori, and she was curious enough to ask. Chiaki said, and I quote “I don't need to do it any more”. Pretty weird, huh?” Ayane shrugs, “I just figured it was some kind of American thing, you know? Let it all out and move on, that sort of thing. Why are you asking about this?”

“Well...” you grimace, “A Thrall tried to take her earlier, in a classroom. It didn't grab her or anything, it was just sorta... reaching out to her. She was in kind of a trance, she fought me when I tried to pull her away. It was weird, I've never seen that sort of thing before.”

“Huh, that IS weird,” Ayane shivers, “Sounds more like a ghost story than anything else.”

“You know,” Maika points out delicately, “We never actually SAW Miura die. We can only assume that people dragged into the Umbra die. They never come back, true, but we don't find bodies either. It's quite frustrating.”

Ayane gives you a nervous look, forcing a smile. “Hey Maika,” she offers, “What are saying, huh?”

“Merely stating an observation,” Maika shakes her head slightly, “I don't think we know enough to make any clear declarations. However, I would suggest you keep a close eye on Chiaki, just in case something like this happens again.”

“That's what Kurosawa said,” you murmur, squaring your shoulders and lending a little extra haste to your steps. “Now come on,” you tell the others with a deliberately brighter tone, “Let's get moving!” The other two girls murmur their acknowledgements, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Ayane seems to be even more reluctant than before, although she makes no attempt at protesting or arguing.

There's something she's not telling you.

[1/2]

>>1412574
aww ye, we gon fight Hikari, and she's the tomb's right hand Intruder or some shit.

>>1412574

You give Ayane a while longer to speak up, but when she continues to hold her tongue you have to take the initiative. Stopping and waiting to cross the road, you turn and look her dead in the eye. “Alright Ayane,” you begin firmly, “Is there something you need to tell us? You're not happy about this plan, and I want to know why.”

“C'mon man,” Ayane groans, “It's just... that helmet and stuff kinda freaks me out a little. It's so.. small and tight. Probably dark in there and everything, ugh!”

“Claustrophobia?” Maika asks, “Is that it?”

“No, I mean sorta, I mean maybe,” fidgeting in place, Ayane shoots the traffic a vile look – cursing it for stopping her from running off. “It's not, like, clinical or anything. Just, ever since... you know, what happened... that stuff always makes me think of coffins. It freaks me out, that's all. I'm going to do my duty, don't worry about that, but I sure ain't happy about it,” she frowns as the lights change and you start to walk again, “Okay, okay, fine. Maybe it won't be so bad. How bad can it be, right?”

-

“It's bad, it's bad, it's bad,” Ayane stammers, clawing at the helmet until she can fumble the visor up. Her eyes, once you meet them, are wide and wild. “Wow, okay, that was dignified,” a faltering laugh rattles out from her, “How do you put up with this, Maika?”

“Practice,” Maika replies simply, “I've used this device for dozens, hundreds of hours. It should be better once you're getting a visual feed. Give me a few moments while I synch it up to my glasses, then try it again.” Slipping on a pair of fashionable glasses, barely heavier than a regular pair, Maika then holds down on a tiny button for a few seconds. Soft light blooms from behind the visor, and Ayane reluctantly lowers it once more.

You wait a moment, bracing yourself for the next round of panicked yelling, but then Ayane... laughs. She lets out a long laugh of relief and amazement. “Oh wow, that's so weird, seeing myself like that. That's-” pausing, the laughter in Ayane's voice is replaced by dismay, “Oh man, does this uniform really make me look this frumpy?”

“Uh, yeah,” you admit, “...Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Ayane's reply is both simple and wordless – a long moan of distress.

-

“She'll be fine,” Maika says later, as you're walking towards your destination, “It's just a case of adjusting to the new perspective. I believe more than sixty percent of testers experienced some form of discomfort or disorientation on their first time. Subsequent trials lowered that to just twenty percent.”

“Nice,” you murmur, “Do they print that in the brochures?”

“We don't print anything,” Maika corrects you sternly, “We're moving to paperless, and-” A pause. “That was a joke,” she sighs, “Wasn't it?”

“Yes it was,” you tell her gravely.

[2/3]

>>1412607

You arrive at your destination with time to spare, and nothing to do but sit back and wait. You've got a feeling that either Karl or Jun might be watching you already, but you can't prove it at all. No matter where you look, you can't see any trace of the men, but still the feeling persists. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh.

“I hope this isn't a waste of time,” you find yourself thinking aloud.

“It won't be,” Maika assures you, “If nothing else, we can get the measure of a potential rival. Information like that is always valuable.” Brushing aside her hair, the taller girl fiddles with the AR glasses for a moment. “Admittedly, my experience comes from a more corporate background,” he adds, “But I dare say that they can't be too different.”

You're not quite so sure about that, but you don't press the issue. After a while, as a heavy silence falls between the two of you, that decision starts to seem like a mistake. Talking about something, anything, might well be your only way of passing the time.

“Sundown, they said,” Maika mutters, “They're going to be late. Hardly a good impression, is it?”

>They'll be here. Just keep your eyes open
>Hey, how did you get my home number anyway?
>That surgery you talked about, the neurological sculpting stuff. Would someone remember getting it done?
>We might be getting new allies soon. Kurosawa said that there were two candidates out there
>I wanted to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other

>>1412627
>>Hey, how did you get my home number anyway?
>That surgery you talked about, the neurological sculpting stuff. Would someone remember getting it done?

>>1412627
>>They'll be here. Just keep your eyes open

>>1412627
>They'll be here. Just keep your eyes open
>That surgery you talked about, the neurological sculpting stuff. Would someone remember getting it done?
>We might be getting new allies soon. Kurosawa said that there were two candidates out there

>>1412627
>Did Kurosawa tell you about the tomb?

>>1412627
>>They'll be here. Just keep your eyes open
I'd rather not mention anything if they're just sitting and spying on us. Especially not talk of Kurosawa in case they don't know about him. The home number one sounds fine and safe enough though.

“Hey Maika,” you begin quietly, “How did you get my home number anyway? I don't think anyone has my home number. Hell, I don't even think I remember my home number!”

“Simple really,” Maika shrugs gracefully, “I asked SAE to get the number for me. She's our, well, I suppose you could say that she's our corporate AI. Really though, that's not entirely accurate – she's just a fork of the central city AI with certain restrictions in place.” Studying your face for a moment, Maika smiles slightly. “You have no idea what I'm talking about,” you asks, “Do you?”

“I know a bit about AIs,” you grudgingly admit, “But... not much.”

“The central city AI has access to all the information that flows through Ark City, while all the four major corporations AIs are restricted to relevant information – employee records and such. However, there are certain... back doors that one can us. Kanzaki Automated Industries and Renko Biotech have collaborated before, and your father is employed by Renko Biotech,” tapping a slender finger against her chin, Maika's smile grows a little wider, “Marvellous things, AIs. A pleasure to work with.”

“Huh,” you say slowly, “And yours is called SAE?”

“They all have names like that, a three letter code. SAE, EVE, REI and ZOE,” Maika frowns for a moment, “I believe Renko Biotech is assigned EVE. Regardless, I feel as though I owe you an apology – it was an abuse of your privacy. However, I thought it was necessary given the circumstances.”

“No, I guess it's fine,” you hear yourself reply. For some reason, this talk of AIs doesn't sit quite right with you. You're no Luddite, but it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. With that in mind, you move on as quickly as possible. “I wanted to ask you about that surgery you mentioned,” you tell her, “That... neurological sculpting stuff. If you had it done, would you remember it? I mean, would it leave a trace?”

“It does, you remember the operation itself. They can't erase or bury the experience of the operation itself. Medically, they can, but there are laws against it. It can cause dissociation, to alter memories without the subject's awareness,” pausing here, Maika touches her temple in an absent minded way, “Of course, I've heard stories about black market clinics, but... well, those aren't the sorts of things to talk about in polite company.”

“Oh,” you pause, “Since when do I count as polite company?”

“Good point,” Maika admits with a slow nod, “Truth be told, I don't know much else about it. Just ill rumours, and one shouldn't act on such flimsy evidence.”

She's got a point there. Sighing, you begin to ask your next question when something rustles nearby. Movement, perhaps, but that's all you can tell.

[1/2]

>>1412690

Pressing your lips together in a hard line, you gesture for Maika to stay in place as you creep out to the mouth of the alleyway and look around it. A young boy, his face mostly hidden behind a raised scarf, yelps out in surprise and jumps back, a can of spray paint falling from his hand. Without a single moment of hesitation he spins on his heels and sprints off into the gloom, leaving his graffiti – just the letters “BLU” at the moment – forever unfinished. Scowling at his retreating back for a moment, you return to Maika.

“Just a kid,” you tell her, “Anyway, we-” Then you stop yourself, the interruption reminding you of who might be listening in. “We might be getting some more workers soon,” you begin in a more casual tone, “I spoke to the boss yesterday, he said that he was looking into hiring two extra girls. Might be nice to share the work around, you know?”

“Hmm, is that so?” Maika seems to realise your intention, “I can't say that the working conditions are the best in the city, and the pay is rather poor, but some people are willing to look past that. If they're happy working under those conditions, I'll welcome their help.” Slowly looking back and forth, Maika fakes a yawn. “How is the boss?” she asks, “I see him so rarely these days, in my new position.”

“Same as always really,” you decide with a shrug, “I suppose he won't have told you about his holiday, right? He went to see a tomb, something really ancient. I'll tell you about it later, it's pretty interesting. Maybe if we can get some time off, we should see about going there ourselves. Depending on how things go there, we might not have to work afterwards.”

“Interesting,” narrowing her eyes, Maika holds up a finger to stop you from saying anything else, “Next time we're at work, I think we should have a meeting. I don't like working in this way. Employees still have some rights left.”

“I'll bring it up next time I see the boss,” you agree carefully, “Now just keep your eyes open. Our friends could be here any min-”

“Forgive my curiosity, but I have to ask,” Jun says smoothly, walking out from the shadows, “What line of work are you in, exactly?”

For a moment, you almost crack a joke – something about security devices, something about keeping away Intruders – but then you stop yourself. No point in being a smart-ass. “It's just a cafe,” you tell him with a shrug, “Nothing special, it's just for a little pocket money.”

“I see. Shall we go?” Jun smiles faintly, gesturing for you to follow, “Oh, and don't worry – I have a car waiting. We shall travel as common men tonight.” Leading you out into the streets, Jun nods to a sleek, polished car – easily the equal of Bradley's imperious machine.

“Common men,” Maika repeats with a cool smile, “I see.”

[2/3]

>Next post might be delayed, something has come up. Sorry about this

>>1412740

The car hardly seems necessary, but you get the impression that Jun wanted to make a point – to show off, in other words. Karl drives, without needing to be told where, and the short journey is spent in silence. Barely ten minutes pass before the car slides into an underground garage, halting in a marked spot. Permit owners only, although nothing hints at who might own one of these elusive permits.

Karl and Jun lead you into a pleasantly large elevator – even with the four of you, there's plenty of space to breath – that purrs a few floors higher. When the doors slide open, you stand in a plushly decorated hallway. Practically the exact opposite of Maika's home, every surface seems to drip with ornamentation. Between the marble pillars, glass cases hold antique weapons – swords and spears, mostly, although you do see a single massive axe in an equally massive case.

“You might call them souvenirs,” Jun idly mentions as he notices your glance, “We have built up a rather impressive collection over the years.”

“Impressive and varied,” Maika replies in a bored tone, “I see Greek and Chinese pieces. Oh, and is that Celtic?”

“You're surprisingly erudite for someone who works in a cafe,” Jun remarks lightly, “Although I suppose we live in the information age. Every man, woman and child has access to the annals of human history... that which is made public, at least. Control over that information, therefore, is control over-” Stopping himself here, the slender man laughs at his own loose tongue. “Ah, but we're getting distracted,” he continues, “Information, then. How about we discuss certain matters over tea?”

“Uh, sure,” you decide, shooting Maika a look of warning, warning her to watch her tongue from now on. Jun leads you into a comfortable chamber – a drawing room, something pulled from a period drama – and nods to a long couch. As you sit, Karl scowls darkly and skulks out of the room.

“I may have questions of my own,” Jun says as he sits opposite you, “But it's only polite that you get the chance to ask first. Of course...” Laughs lightly, Jun crosses his legs. “There's no guarantee that my answers will satisfy you,” he adds, “If I can answer at all. Certain things must be kept secret from the... uninitiated.”

>Karl doesn't seem happy to see us here
>Can you tell us a little more about your organisation?
>You have power, I can see that. Where did you get it, and how?
>You've got your own agenda, don't you?
>Fine, here's my question... (Write in)
>Other

>>1412812
>>Can you tell us a little more about your organisation?
>>You have power, I can see that. Where did you get it, and how?
Seems like the most important and thus the ones that won't be answered.

>>1412812
>You've got your own agenda, don't you?
"We first saw your handiwork sealing an Intruder's entry in an alley. But then the Intruder just moved on to another entrance and we had to take care of it. So what was the point? You two don't seem like the people that would leave things half assed like that."

You were promised tea, but that doesn't seem to be coming. Frowning a little – putting on a very serious face – you launch into the interview. “To start with,” you begin, “Can you tell us a little more about your organisation? That's very vague, I know, but perhaps you could give us a bit of general background information?”

“We've always chosen to cloak ourselves in secrecy,” Jun begins, “But now, that policy is starting to change. These are not unenlightened times, where men and women with abnormal powers are burned at the stake. If the extent of our abilities was to be revealed, we would be greatly inconvenienced – I cannot deny that – but I suspect that we would not be persecuted. Not in any organised, official sense at least. Regardless, the Council of Twelve has instructed us to operate in the shadows for as long as possible.”

“The Council of Twelve?” Maika asks delicately, “Your leaders, I presume?”

“Correct. Twelve, taken from the Apostles of Christ. Oh yes,” Jun smiles slyly at the look of surprise that passes across your face, “We date back that far, as we have told you. Our history stretches back even earlier, of course, but before then we had less in the way of formal organisation. It simply wasn't possible, in those gloomy centuries. Our members were often nomadic, roaming and teaching, discretely taking recruits wherever possible.”

“I think I understand,” you reply with a slow nod, “You sought to spread your influence far and wide.”

“We sought to protect the masses,” Jun corrects you gently, “That protection comes in many forms. Protecting men against spirits and demons, yes, but also against their own foolishness. A shining sword and a guiding hand... that has long been our way.”

Jun pauses here as the door opens. Rather than Karl, who you had been expecting, a young boy enters with a tray of fine porcelain cups. His pale face is set in a mask of intense concentration, as if causing the cups to rattle just once would have warranted a death sentence.

“Thank you, Pietr,” Jun says, nodding to the boy before turning back to you. “Pietr here is one of our newest initiates. His mystical training has not yet started, but his mundane education is well underway. See, how he moves? We Sentinels hold grace as one of our highest virtues.”

Having set the tray down on a low table, Pietr bows to each of you in turn – three precise bows, as though he was a clockwork toy – and then leaves. Taking one of the delicate cups, you sip at the fragrant tea. Delicious, although the flavour is very subtle. A bolder taste, you realise with amusement, might cover up a poison. Even the tea was chosen as a kind of peace offering.

“Mystical training,” you repeat, “You certainly have power, I've seen what you can do. What I'm curious about is where you get it from, and how. Can you tell me?”

[1/2]

>>1412893

“You ask a difficult question,” a note of an apology slips into Jun's voice, “I fear that any answer I might give you would not fully explain the matter. Please understand, I'm not holding back – we simply do not have a full understanding of such matters either. In fact, some of our members have suggested that mystical power such as ours cannot be explained – they defy logical explanations, physical laws, anything we might use to dissect and study them.”

A very fancy answer, and one that carefully avoids giving you any concrete information at all. Setting down your teacup, you force yourself to meet Jun's dark, dancing eyes. “So you can't explain it,” you concede, “But can you tell us anything at all about your powers? Can anyone undergo this training of yours and learn your ways?”

“Again, a complicated question to answer,” Jun purses his lips, “Throughout our history, we have devised many ways of sharpening the human spirit. Meditation is one such form, although there are many others. Primarily, they share two features – firstly they turn the mind inwards, the fully realise the self. Secondly, they form around a single idea or concept. An image that defines us, that we hold tightly to during times of hardship. This focus allows us... after certain other steps... to utilise the Golden Sorceries.”

“Other steps,” you press, “That's where the good stuff happens, right?”

“Those, I cannot discuss with the uninitiated,” clearing his throat, Jun looks away, “Forgive me. In time, I may be allowed to speak of such things. Until then, I must hold my silence.”

Trading a brief glance with Maika, she offers you a tiny shrug – a shrug that seems to say “Well what else did you expect?”. Fighting back the urge to sigh, you look back to Jun. Your next question, you throw out like a boxer's jab. “You've got an agenda of your own, don't you?” you remark in a carefully neutral tone, “I mean, we first saw your handiwork in an alleyway, sealing off an Intruder's portal. Only, the Intruder just moved onto another entrance and got through either way. We had to take care of it.”

“I fail to see your point,” Jun smiles, unshaken by your mild accusation, “But please, continue.”

“So what was the point of it?” you ask, bluntly this time, “You don't seem like the types to do things halfway. Why seal one portal and not the other?”

“First of all, you assume that I knew about the second portal,” Jun counters, “Perhaps it was not brought to my awareness. It could be that I got lucky with the first portal, correct?”

“The possibility is there,” Maika admits, “But... I'm afraid that I'm not convinced. Just luck? No, I think not.”

“Secondly. If I DID have an agenda...” Jun raises an eyebrow, “Why would I tell you, when I don't know if we can trust one another?”

[2/3]

File: Pietr.jpg (113 KB, 850x1269)

113 KB JPG

>>1412925

You've got to admit, he's got a point there. You're about to let the matter rest, but then Jun speaks up once again.

“But trust sometimes requires a leap of faith – a display of confidence, if you like. So, in the interests of a continued relationship...” he pauses for a few perfectly calculated seconds, “Sealing these portals, as you put it, is not an easy feat. It is a draining experience, in more ways than one. Simply put, I find it to be an almost crippling experience. When possible, we prefer to destroy the enemy. It is, strangely, far less effort.”

“So you didn't seal the second portal...” Maika deduces, “Because you couldn't? You lacked the ability, not the will or the knowledge?”

“Correct,” nodding, Jun lifts his teacup and takes a sip, “I was... vulnerable.”

“Are you vulnerable now?” Maika presses, although her tone is simply bored.

“No,” Jun's smile widens a little, “When we last met, I had almost completely recovered. One more day was all I needed. I'm afraid I lied – it wasn't research that I wanted to do, it was recovery. Perhaps it suggests a certain paranoia on my behalf, but I wished to be at my full strength for this meeting. Men in my position have a lot to lose, and little to gain by taking risks.” Leaning back on the sofa, Jun claps his hands together sharply. “So, I had no personal agenda in leaving the second portal open,” he concludes, “Do I have a personal agenda overall? Well, that's a different matter altogether!”

-

Conversation falters for a moment as Pietr returns, this time with a small plate of perfectly formed ginger cookies. Jun takes one, but doesn't take a bite yet. “Now, I believe that it's my turn to ask the questions,” he begins, “Although I don't have many. First of all... You are both the chosen representatives of a power that calls itself divine. You have been chosen to battle Intruders – as you call them – in order to protect mankind. You have titles, weapons of curious power, and perhaps an animal familiar to act as an intermediary... correct?”

Even Maika freezes at that, while your expression is all the answer that Jun needs. With a certain sense of victory, he takes a small bite out of the cookie and washes it down with tea.

“So it's true. Interesting,” giving you a curious look, he sets down his cup, “But I have a question. You asked about my agenda – and now I want to ask about yours. Why do YOU do what you do? Why fight the Intruders?”

“That's a very personal question,” you answer in a low voice, “I don't see why you need-”

“Call it a curiosity,” Jun shrugs, “Lie if you want. Refuse to answer. Whatever you say here will be an answer in of itself. So... why do you fight?”

>I was impulsive. I didn't have a good reason
>I'm not answering this. It's too personal
>I felt like I had a duty to fight. To protect people who can't
>Other

>>1412996
>>I'm not answering this. It's too personal

>>1412996
>I felt like I had a duty to fight. To protect people who can't

>>1412996
>I honestly don't remember,.

>>1412996
>I felt like I had a duty to fight. To protect people who can't

Initially it was probably the first one though.

>>1412996
>>I felt like I had a duty to fight. To protect people who can't

“It's a very personal question,” you repeat slowly, looking down at your teacup.

“So don't answer it,” Jun replies breezily, as if your hesitation has confirmed all manner of unwelcome suspicions he might have formed. You're smart enough to know that he's goading you, but not smart enough to ignore the jibe. Looking back up, you glare into his amused eyes.

“Hey, I never said I wouldn't answer,” you snap, “It's just... it's complicated. I'm not so good at making fancy speeches about protecting mankind or following some higher purpose. Some days, I honestly don't remember why I decided to do this. Other days... I know all too well. Those days, I still feel the same way that I did back then.”

“Really?” tugging lightly at the strap of his watch, Jun tilts his head slightly to the side as he studies you, “And would you care to indulge me?”

“I have a duty to fight,” you reply simply, hoping that your voice is as hard as you can make it, “To protect those who can't fight, can't protect themselves.”

“Really?” Jun repeats, “A specific person, then? Family, perhaps? Or maybe-”

“That IS too personal,” you interrupt curtly, “I'm sorry, but I've said all I have to say about this.” Deliberately softening your expression, you sit back and gesture lightly to Maika. “And I can only speak for myself,” you add, “Not for my friend. Her reasons are her own, just as mine are my own.”

“Although they're hardly very different. Those with strength must protect the weak,” Maika continues, although a slight smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she adds, “And I was bored. This seemed like an amusing diversion.”

“Fine reasons... more or less,” Jun rises, smoothing out his clothes and then bowing to you both, “But now, I fear that the hour grows late. Pietr will show you out – oh, but you'll have to excuse him. He is currently under a vow of silence. It teaches discipline, an important asset to us.” Clapping again, Jun summons the young boy. When he arrives, Pietr gestures for you to follow him back to the elevator. There, he presses a different button and the elevator begins to descend.

Throughout it all, he shows no more emotion than one of Maika's drones.

-

The elevator doors open to reveal the lobby of an upmarket apartment building. As you're leaving, Pietr hands across a business card – an address, apartment number and phone number listed on it. Bowing one last time, he lets you show yourselves out. Maika holds her tongue until you're out in the empty night streets, and then:

“They know too much about us,” she says simply, “They know just about as much as we do.”

“And that's just what they're willing to reveal,” you sigh, “What a mess this all is...”

>I think I'm going to pause things here. I'll continue this tomorrow, and I'll answer any questions as best as possible
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1413143
Thanks for running Moloch.

Maika directs you to a nearby cafe – a rather more stern place than Paris, or the sorts of places that you usually go to – and orders some food to pick at while you wait. Ayane is on her way, apparently, leaving you with nothing to do until she arrives. Both of you seem to be in a state of low level shock, left reeling by your meeting with Jun. It all feels very surreal now, in the discrete gloom of the cafe.

The Council of Twelve? An organisation stretching back to before Jesus Christ? Golden Sorceries, and the self-mastery required to wield them?

You've grown pretty hardened to incredible things in these past six months, but this is on a whole other level. With so many questions swirling around in your mind, you grab onto the only one that makes sense right now.

“Hey Maika,” you ask quietly, “Was that true, what you said? About why you signed up?”

“You mean the part about protecting the weak? I'm afraid not,” Maika replies with a rueful note in her voice, “But I thought it would go down well. The other part, though, about being bored... that was rather more accurate. Does that make me sound terribly wicked?”

“Hell, I don't think any of us had a good reason for it. I don't even think I had ANY reason for it,” you tell her with a weary shrug, “But we can't go back now, so we might as well give that whole “fight the good fight” thing a shot.”

-

Ayane, when she arrives, is in quite poor shape. Her eyes are reddened, and the helmet has left her hair sticking up in all kinds of wild directions. Her uniform is crumpled, and the faint smell of old sweat clings to her. Slumping down into your booth, she starts work on emptying the cup of coffee Maika pours for her. When it's finished, she leans back and lets out a long, slow groan.

“First of all,” she begins, “That kid of theirs freaks me the hell out. I just want to get that out of the way before we say anything else. He creeps me the hell out.”

“Pietr?” you ask as you recall the strange recruit, “Yeah, I kinda see what you mean. Maybe if he talked a little or showed a bit of emotion...”

“I dare say that emotions are very likely prohibited,” Maika offers, “As part of whatever training he's involved in. Really though, I have to wonder... is he there, do you think, by his own free will?” She casually airs the suggestion, as if was just a spot of idle curiosity, but her words cast a chill over the group.

“Well... well anyway,” you recover quickly, meeting Ayane's eyes and giving her something like a smile, “So, Seeker of Truth, what did you make of it all? Other than, uh, your issues with Pietr.”

When Ayane actually stops to think before giving you an answer, you realise how seriously she's taking this matter. It's a good thing, you're glad that she's giving it the respect it deserves, but it's also faintly worrying. A bad omen, perhaps.

[1/2]

>>1416090

“I'm glad I wasn't there,” she confesses at last, “I don't think I would have been able to play it cool like you two. I reckon I would have blurted out something stupid and got us all in a whole heap of trouble. So yeah, I'll concede the point – you were right, staying behind was probably for the best. Now that we've put that aside...” Leaning on the table, Ayane considers her next words with unusual care. “First off, they were showing off. The fancy car, the apartment building, the... the bloody display cases full of swords!” frowning slightly, Ayane glances across to Maika, “Hey, how did you recognise those, anyway?”

“Father has a several pieces of his own,” Maika explains with a haughty sniff, “His collection is better.”

“Uh, sure. So this tells me two things. First off, they've got resources. Money and probably influence. Second, they're willing to roll out the red carpet for a pair of schoolgirls,” pausing here, Ayane glances between you and Maika, “What does that suggest to you?”

“Maybe...” your words trail off as an idea starts to form in your mind, “Maybe desperation?”

“That would be my guess as well,” Maika agrees, “They dearly wanted to impress us, and to leave us with a good impression of them. I can't speak for the German, but I believe that Jun wishes for us to work together.”

“Are we?” Ayane asks, “Going to work with him, I mean?”

“It's way too early to decide something like that,” you stress, “We've got their details, they don't have ours. That's another little show of faith, it's letting us choose how and when to meet them again.” Taking the card out of your pocket once again, you place it down on the table. Ayane is the first one to snatch it up.

“Look at that subtle off-white colouring, the tasteful thickness of it,” Ayane gasps, fighting back a mad giggle as she holds the business card up to the faint light, “Oh my god, it even has a watermark!”

“Are you quite finished?” Maika asks stiffly as both you and Ayane break down into breathless laughter. For a moment, it looks as though Ayane is going to double down on the absurdities, so you pluck the card out of her hands and slip it back into your pocket.

“We're finished,” you assure Maika, patting your pocket for good measure and then shooting Ayane a hard look, “Right?”

“Finished, sure, I got you,” Ayane nods, still smirking a little, “So what now?”

>Kurosawa has told me some stuff. We should all be on the same page here...
>You two, do you think we should work with these guys?
>Ayane, was there anything else you noticed about what Jun told us?
>Other

>>1416092
>>Kurosawa has told me some stuff. We should all be on the same page here...

>>1416092
>Kurosawa has told me some stuff. We should all be on the same page here...
>Ayane, was there anything else you noticed about what Jun told us?

>You two, do you think we should work with these guys?
"I'm still pretty wary of them myself."

>>1416092
>Kurosawa has told me some stuff. We should all be on the same page here...
>If Kurosawa told us to work with them.....would you?
>I'm not buying that sealing excuse. Maybe....they don't like entering the portal themselves?

>>1416092
>>Ayane, was there anything else you noticed about what Jun told us?

>>1416092
>>Kurosawa has told me some stuff. We should all be on the same page here...

Also: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZVkW9p-cCU

“First of all,” you begin, “I think we should all be on the same page. Kurosawa told me some stuff, and it's important enough that we should all know about it. I would said back there in the alley, but I wasn't sure if we were being watched. Eavesdropped on, whatever.”

“Oh yeah, I wondered,” Ayane scratches her head, “You started talking about jobs and holidays, stuff like that, I thought you had lost it. Either that, or you both had really interesting lives that you didn't like talking about. So, we've got, uh... new girls? And something about a tomb?”

“Kurosawa tells me that there are two more candidates somewhere in the city, and he's looking for them now. It's not easy, mind you, he seemed to think it would be a slow process. So, we shouldn't count on getting any more help right now. Plus, there's always the issue of convincing them to sign up...” sighing at that, you pick at some of the snacks Maika ordered. Little twists of pastry, nothing but air and crumbs. “The tomb thing. I found something in the Umbra, a structure. A Necropolis, I called it. Kurosawa seems to think that it's covering up the source of the Intruders. Something that's either creating them or bringing them into our world. We destroy it, we might be able to stop them.”

“Sure,” nodding slowly, Ayane gives you a wan smile, “But there's a catch, right?”

“The source is sealed away, locked up tight. We might be able to make keys, though, by defeating certain Intruders,” you pause a moment, “Certain Tyrant class Intruders.”

Silence follows this, until Ayane breaks it with a low whistle. You don't blame them for being intimidated – Tyrant class Intruders are serious trouble, or so you've been told. Their influence is powerful enough to warp the Umbra to their will, sometimes even spilling out into the real world. If you have to hunt them down, those two extra girls might come in handy.

“But now we have an objective to work towards,” Maika says calmly, “We're not just maintaining the status quo. We have a chance to make a real and tangible difference. I say we take it – what other choice do we have?”

“Well, there's always sitting on our asses and doing nothing with our lives,” Ayane suggests with a shrug, “Which was sort of my default life plan, magic or otherwise. But yeah, sure, Tyrant class Intruders. Why not?”

“Look, we can deal with them when we come to it. I wanted to share the information with you, and now that's what I've done,” sighing, you massage your tense brow, “Ayane, you were listening in. Was there anything else you noticed about what Jun told us? Anything you thought he might have been lying about?”

“Oh man, where do I even start?” she replies, narrowing her reddened eyes. Toying with her empty coffee cup, Ayane takes a moment to pick her next words with care.

[1/2]

>>1416125

“Okay, look, I should warn you. This is just gut stuff, okay? Gut instinct, with nothing to prove or disprove any of it. My immediate thought is...” pausing, Ayane takes in a deep breath, “It's mostly bullshit. All this talk of ancient organisations and spreading influence, it's too much. It's just way too out there for me to just nod and believe. Maybe it's what HE'S been told, maybe it's what HE believes, but I don't buy it.”

“Interesting,” you muse, “So what do you think instead?”

“I think maybe they're old, and maybe they're powerful, but nowhere near the levels they boast about. All this fancy talk is just one more way of impressing us and getting us to work with them,” leaning back, Ayane folds her arms and gives you and Maika a challenging look, “What I can't figure out, though, is why. If they've got all these resources and all this influence... why do they need US?”

Her words have a certain logic to them, and you find yourself frowning at their implications. “You might be right,” you admit, “I don't quite buy that excuse Jun offered, about sealing the portal. I think they have some other reason – maybe they don't like entering the Umbra themselves? They'd need us, then, to take care of business on the other side.”

“That would make sense,” Maika agrees slowly, “If the Umbra isn't safe for regular humans...”

You don't care for the way she words that, as if they're more like “regular humans” than you are, but you don't press the point. Sighing, you tap the table to get the other girls to focus on you. “Honest question here,” you begin, “Do you think we should work with them? Give me your honest answer please.”

“I think we should keep them at a distance, but not offer any hostility,” Maika replies immediately, as if she had already reached her decision, “If they offer to work together, we should give it a try – once, at least, to better learn what they can do. If things don't work out between our two groups, I would suggest a policy of avoidance.”

“They do their thing, we do ours. I get it,” Ayane nods, “Yeah, I guess that could work. I'm pretty curious about them, so I'd like to listen in on a few more conversations, but I don't want either of you risking your butts just for a little idle chatter.”

Biting your lip lightly, you find yourself nodding along with their suggestions. “I'm still pretty wary of them myself. Their motives especially,” you admit, “But... Alright, next question. If Kurosawa told us to work with them – ordered us – would you do it?”

“So long as it suited me,” the heiress decides, narrowing her eyes as she thinks, “Not, for example, if I felt it was excessively dangerous.”

“Man, if the cat starts giving us orders like that, I'm walking,” Ayane grimaces, “I'm serious. I'm doing this for my own reasons, not his. I'll work with them if I want, not if he tells me to.”

[2/3]

>>1416136

Ayane's bold declaration is met by a stifling silence, thick and awkward. Clearing your throat after a moment, you steer the discussion back to safer waters. Something less important, not related to your work. “It's the weekend tomorrow, isn't it?” you begin in a deliberately light tone, “What sort of plans do you two have?”

“Oh yeah, the weekend,” grinning suddenly, Ayane brightens up, “I'm gonna spend it with my boy Conner, so you two better not phone me unless it's an emergency!”

“I'm going to be doing some research,” Maika answers, “We have names, an address, and even a car license number. That should be enough to learn a little more about our Sentinel friends. You're welcome to visit me at home, if you like, we can work together. All I ask is that you call ahead. The security staff don't like unexpected guests, you see...”

You recall those assault rifles, Belgian made, and wince. “Uh, I'll keep that in mind,” you reply, “As for me... I don't know. Before I do anything else, I'm heading home to sleep. These past few days have been... trying.”

“Yeah, I need to get back as well. Staring into that visor thing gave me one hell of a headache,” rubbing her temple, Ayane lets out a soft groan of pain, “So then, meeting adjourned?”

>Meeting adjourned. Good work everyone!
>There's one last thing I need to say... (Write in)
>Other

>>1416147
>Meeting adjourned. Good work everyone!

>>1416147
>>Meeting adjourned. Good work everyone!

>>1416147
>So, did any of them seem hot?

Looking between Maika and Ayane, you see a faint trace of the earlier fatigue – weariness and bleak expressions – creeping back in. Not good, you decide, they need something to shock them back to reality. Leaning in, you flash them both a furtive smile. “But we've been forgetting the most important part,” you whisper, “Did any of them seem hot? Any of them your type?”

“Hey, I'm already taken!” Ayane protests, “Although, uh... I guess Jun is kind of handsome. Kind of. Maika! Maika, any of them your type?”

“No,” the heiress replies, with a very serious expression, “I can categorically say that none of them were my type.”

“Huh,” Ayane almost looks disappointed by that, “And... Miho?”

“Meeting adjourned!” you decide firmly, raising your voice a little too much, “Good work everyone!” Having said this, you lift yourself out of the booth and stretch the stiffness out of your shoulders. The thought of two days off – a pretty meagre holiday, all things considered – seems like an absurd luxury right now. Ayane has plans to spent them with her boyfriend, while Maika will... probably spend the days plugged into a computer. Whatever makes her happy, you suppose.

As for what you'll do, well, you've got time to decide that later.

-

Bradley was waiting outside the cafe when you emerged into the night, his car almost seeming to merge into the darkness. When Maika offered you a lift home, you were only too happy to accept it. Soft leather creaks beneath you as you sink into the luxury seats, and then purring car is gliding off, smoothly swerving between efficient ranks of autonomous vehicles. In the time it takes you to reach your apartment building, you don't see another car under human guidance.

Returning to your apartment, you immediately sense a change in the air. A lightening, perhaps, as though a great burden had been lifted. Had it always been there, you wonder, and you had just never noticed it before now? The weight that Hikari left in her passing had been pressing down on you for so long that its absence feels unreal, uncanny. When you see you mother, with an unusually bright look on her face, the surreal feeling only deepens.

“Miho, I'm glad you're back,” Yui announces, seeming not to notice that you're late back, “I just got off the phone with your father. It's good news – he said that he was able to get tomorrow off. He'll be coming home, to spend some time with us. It's just a single day, so don't get too excited, but I thought you'd like to know. Considering everything that's happened, I thought a little bit of good news might be what we both needed.”

And then you feel it, a bright and genuine smile spreading across your face.

[1/2]

File: Hikari Tsukada.jpg (394 KB, 900x900)

394 KB JPG

>>1416164

Feeling happier than any other time in the past few days – maybe even weeks – you start off to your room, eager to end the day on a high note. Just when you think you've gotten away with it, your mother calls your name softly.

“Miho?” she asks sweetly, “You're very late back, aren't you? Was it studying with your friends again?”

“Studying, absolutely,” you agree with a slow nod, trying to ignore the terrible feeling bubbling up from the pit of your stomach, “It was history this time. Uh, Greek history. We looked up some pictures of old Greek swords, and...”

“And there were no boys there, of course,” Yui interrupts, “You're much too young to be getting involved with boys. They'll ruin your education, and that's the least of the problems you might face. You're a sensible girl – sometimes – so I don't think I need to say anything else on the matter.” Pursing her lips to ward away a smile, Yui studies you for a moment more. “Right?”

“Right,” you repeat, “Ah... I'm sorta tired, so...” Letting your words trail off, you slink away into your room and flop down on the bed, trying to cover up your burning cheeks. From the other side of your door, you hear Yui laughing softly to herself.

-

Perhaps you doze for a little, but soon you hear a knock at your bedroom door. Groaning, you rise and open it, greeted by your mother's face. Her smile has faded now, taking on a more tired look. “I'm sorry for disturbing you,” she begins, “But I found something you might like to see. I knew we had another picture of her somewhere, and...” Gesturing for you to follow her, Yui leads you back into the main room. There, face down on the table, you see another photograph.

“Hikari had that taken, professionally, not long before she...” Yui pauses, dabbing at one eye, “She always wanted to be a model, you see.”

The breath catches in your throat slightly as you turn the photograph over, looking into the face of your older sister for the first time in... ever, so far as your memory goes. Faint dismay flutters across the surface of your mind as you study the face. She's quite beautiful to look at, but that's all. There are no sudden flashes of memory, no secrets are revealed to you. Nothing changes.

“Tomorrow, I thought maybe...” your mother suggests lightly, “Would you like to visit her grave? It's not far, and it's quite lovely. We could go as a family, it's something we should have done a long time ago. What do you say?”

>Yes, I... I think we should
>No, I don't need to see her grave. It won't change anything
>Other

>>1416174
>Yes, I... I think we should
>But let's go somewhere fun after. As a family.

>>1416174
>>Yes, I... I think we should

>>1416174
>>Yes, I... I think we should

>>1416174
>>No, I don't need to see her grave. It won't change anything

“Yes, I... I think we should,” you decide with a faint nod, your eyes still flicking between Yui's face and Hikari's photograph, “But we should do something fun afterwards. As a family, I mean. We've got to make the most of the day, right?”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Yui offers you a smile of gratitude, “Ah, but you were tired. I'm sorry, I didn't want to leave this until the morning. Go on, go and get some sleep – you don't want to be tired tomorrow, do you? We won't be able to have much fun if you keep nodding off, will we?”

“No mother,” you sigh, giving the photograph one last look, “And, uh, thank you. For showing this to me, I mean.”

“You're quite welcome,” the smile falls from Yui's face a little at this, “Did you... remember anything?”

“No,” you reply after a moment, giving her the honest – if perhaps unkind – answer, “Not a thing.” Having given her this awkward news, you shuffle back to your bed. As you're leaving, you hear your mother sigh slightly to herself.

-

When you wake up in the morning, your father is sitting at the table and drinking coffee, as though he had never been away. Akito Tsukada... not much to look at, you'll admit, but you love him regardless. His hair is thinning, already starting to show shoots of grey, and his features have a mild cast to them. A face that is easily given to both friendly smiles and bewilderment, but not much else. The most notable feature is not a natural one, but an artificial one – the seven pointed star of Renko Biotech, dyed onto one cheek with vibrant violet ink.

You've never liked that mark, or what it implies. It's ugly - curiously lumpen and asymmetrical – and it marks your father out as property, sworn to a corporation. No amount of scrubbing or washing could get that mark off. They use a special enzyme, he told you once, when he was released from their service.

“Good morning, Miho!” he announces when he sees you, his lively tone cutting through your thoughts and waking you right up, “My, you've certainly grown since I last saw you!”

An old joke, shared between the two of you and laced with a certain wistful bitterness. At times, he can be away from home for weeks at a stretch, and he's missed more than a few birthdays. Even some of his own. For the first time, you have to wonder about that absence – maybe he preferred the lab to being at home, crushed under that secret. You feel a flash of guilt at that, forcing it aside and smiling.

“Father,” you say as you greet him with a shy bow, “It's good to see you again. How is.. how is work?”

“You always ask me that,” Akito chuckles sadly, “And I can never tell you much about it.”

What you don't admit, as you laugh along with him, is that you don't know how else to talk with him.

[1/2]

>>1416199

A thought occurs to you as you listen to the train's wheels clicking away in the background. You really don't leave Ark City much these days, or much at all. It can become someone's whole world, that city. For now, though, you're leaving it behind you – heading out to some smaller town that might not even have a name. A cemetery, a gathering place for grave markers and a great lake to accept scattered ashes. Almost a Necropolis, you think with a faint smile.

“We're having problems with EVE,” Akito admits in a low voice, barely speaking above the background noise of the train. He always does this, lets a few snippets of news sneak out. Never anything that's really secret, but things that his superiors would rather keep quiet. “Computer problems, mostly,” he explains, “Data retrieval, storage issues, that sort of thing. Quite inconvenient of it.”

“You know, I always thought EVE was someone you worked with,” you remark with a laugh, “I kept thinking to myself, “why hasn't this Eve been fired yet?”. I never realised she was an AI. What's it like?”

“Most of the time it's very helpful, but it's been very temperamental these past few weeks,” frowning a little, Akito lets out a faint sigh, “It's all hands on deck at the moment. Even getting a single day off took more grovelling that I'd like to admit.” The frown quickly slips from his face, though, to be replaced by the more familiar smile. “Still,” he adds as he ruffles your hair, “It was worth it. What kind of father would I be, if I couldn't be here when you need me?”

Smiling, you push his hand away and shake your hair back into place. To your other side, Yui snorts slightly and stirs in her sleep. For a moment, just one moment, you feel like a normal schoolgirl again.

-

The train stops at a small station, something only slightly bigger than some of the bus stops back in Ark City. A few pensioners disembark along with you, but that's all – not an unusual turnout, you have to assume. A dozen people arriving at once would be enough to make this place feel crowded. Beyond the station, a boundary of tall trees – real trees – seals off the village ahead. Rising above you to dominate the horizon is a curious looking hill, grey in colour and studded with darker markings.

Grave markers, you realise with a faint chill, countless hundreds of them laid out in neat rows. For a few seconds, you hesitate at the sight. Seemingly ignorant of your moment of weakness, Yui and Akito begin to amble on ahead, walking down a path carved out by the countless mourners who came before them. Shaking off your hesitation, you hurry to catch up with them. A place like this, it feels like it might swallow you up if you were left alone.

It's so quiet here, so utterly still.

[2/3]

>>1416232

Seen up close the grave markers are austere things, cold and joyless. Simple concrete posts, set with an engraved metal plaque bearing the relevant name and dates. When you reach the right marker and see the name, Hikari Tsukada, engraved in tiny, precise letters, it all becomes real to you. Biting down hard on your lip, you force a stoic visor down over your face. Dignity is also one of Kurosawa's Great Virtues, and now you turn to it for strength. It is a noble thing, the spirit told you once, to withstand suffering without crying out or fleeing.

Now, you don't flee. Kneeling down at the grave marker, you rest the flat of your palm against the rugged concrete. “Her body,” you ask in a whisper, “Was she-”

“She was cremated,” Yui explains, “We scattered her ashes at the lake, up ahead. This is just a marker, these are all just markers. We were going to the lake, would you to come with us? There's a path, you won't have to worry about getting lost if you want to stay here for a while longer...”

Rising to your feet, you start to reply. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Kurosawa sitting on one of the nearby markers. He watches you with calm, analytical eyes, and that calm grates on your nerves. Even if you had been alone, you couldn't have called out to him here – the silence is too great, too overpowering for you to break. A wordless conversation, though...

“Miho?” Akito touches your arm, “Are you okay?”

>Yes, sorry, I'll come with you. This lake sounds... nice
>You two go on ahead. I need a moment alone
>Other

>>1416239
>You two go on ahead. I need a moment alone

>>1416239
>>You two go on ahead. I need a moment alone

>>1416239
>>Yes, sorry, I'll come with you. This lake sounds... nice

>>1416239
>>Yes, sorry, I'll come with you. This lake sounds... nice

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>I'll close the vote here and roll off to break the tie.

>1 - head to the lake
>2 - stay a while longer

>>1416239
>>You two go on ahead. I need a moment alone
Roll was on my side anyway.

“You two go on ahead,” you reply quietly, your gaze never wavering from Kurosawa, “I need a moment alone here. I'll be fine, I'll catch you up.”

“If you're sure,” Akito decides after a moment, patting you on the shoulder. “There's a path,” he repeats, “You'll be able to find us. We'll wait for you at the lake.”

“Take as long as you need,” Yui adds, as your parents are leaving. You glance around for a second, watching their retreating backs, and look back to where Kurosawa had been. Having vanished, the cat flickers back into reality on top of a nearby pillar. Not Hikari's, wisely.

“That's incredibly disrespectful,” you chide him softly, watching as Kurosawa leaps gracefully down to the ground. “Coming here at all, it's disrespectful of you,” you continue, the accusation hissing from your lips, “Can't you just leave me alone for a little, here of all places?” Again, Kurosawa answers your words with nothing more than a cool silence. “Sorry,” you sigh as the anger leaves you, “What is it, Kurosawa? My Barrier-”

“Is fine. Strong, even given the circumstances,” Kurosawa finishes for you, finally speaking up, “I didn't come here to nag you. I came here to speak to you about the anomalous individuals you met. The Sentinels, as they have chosen to call themselves.” Padding slowly closer, Kurosawa sits by your side. “I find myself in an unfamiliar position,” he admits after a moment, “I do not know what to do about them.”

“I guess even you don't have all the answers,” you mutter, “So what, we're on our own?”

“I would rather not put it in such a crude way, but yes. For now, I will leave the decision whether to engage them or not in your hands. Should the situation change, I may revise my decision,” Kurosawa falls silent again, for longer this time, “I will advise caution, no matter what you choose to do. Working alongside them may be dangerous. Rejecting them may also be dangerous.”

“Great...” you sigh.

-

With the black cat sitting at your side like an ill omen, you wait at the grave marker for a while longer. Not grieving as such, just... thinking. Not thinking, rather, just letting your thoughts wander. Kurosawa is the first one to speak up again.

“You show great Dignity,” he offers, faint praise in his voice, “It is noble-”

“I know, I know,” you whisper, but that's all you say.

“Those chosen by the Virtue of Dignity, do you know what we call them?” Kurosawa asks quietly. “The Gravetender,” he answers after your silence, “The dead must be treated with respect, with the dignity that they have earned. These, however, are just pillars of formed concrete. Your sister is not here.”

“So where is she?” you snap back, the anger rising up again.

“She is nowhere,” the black cat answers simply, “She no longer exists in this world.”

[1/2]

>>1416279
So what intruders were people?

>>1416279

You spend a few moments more at the grave marker, but Kurosawa's words stay with you. Hikari isn't here. She isn't at the lake either, where her ashes were scattered, not really. She isn't anywhere in this world, and you've always known that. Coming here, perhaps you had been hoping to learn something about her. If so, your hopes are dashed. Rising to your feet and brushing down your clothes, you make a start towards the path. You've lingered here as long as you need to.

The path is a nice one, shrouded by trees that block any prying eyes. For a while, Kurosawa walks alongside you, and then he is gone. He does that, disappearing whenever your attention strays from him. It's fine – you've said all you need to say to him, and you assume that the reverse is true as well.

Then the path opens out, and a great lake spreads out before you like a silver coin. It's so still, the sun is reflected perfectly on the water's surface, trees casting long shadows across it. Two figures, your parents, stand at the bank of the lake.

-

“Can you hear that?” Akito asks softly, when you approach, “It's nothing, nothing at all. Nothing lives here. It's why they chose to scatter ashes in the lake – there was no ecosystem to worry about.”

“It's a little creepy,” you admit in a whisper.

“I can see why someone your age might think that,” your father concedes, “But when you get older, you really start to appreciate this sort of quiet. You'll find out for yourself, one of these days.”

Looking out across that still lake, you murmur your acknowledgement.

>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...
>Was it hard, keeping it a secret for so long?
>What was Hikari like? I want to know all about her...
>Can I ask you something? (Write in)
>Other

>>1416301
>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...
>What was Hikari like? I want to know all about her...


(That lake is totally an Intruder portal at one point or another)

>>1416301
>>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...

>>1416301
>>1416306
This, also safe bet. Odds on the ashes getting either eaten by intruders or used a baby making fuel?

>>1416301
>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...
>Was it hard, keeping it a secret for so long?
>What was Hikari like? I want to know all about her...

>>1416301
>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...
>Was it hard, keeping it a secret for so long?
>What was Hikari like? I want to know all about her...
Family Bonding Time!

>>1416301
>Thank you. For coming here with us, I mean...

“Thank you,” you murmur after a while, “For coming here with us, I mean. For taking me here. For... everything, I guess.”

“You deserve this much,” Akito murmurs, glancing away from the lake for a moment. Yui has wandered a little, lost in thought as she walks along the bank of the lake, occasionally reaching down to pick a pebble out of her shoe and toss it aside. Even daydreaming as she is, she never throws the stones into the lake itself, always tossing them back towards dry land. “Your mother would kill me if she heard me say this,” he adds, in a furtive whisper, “But she's really not very good with this outside stuff. Definitely a city person, your mother.”

“Yeah,” you reply, watching as Yui sits down on the grass. “Hey, what was Hikari like?” you ask softly, “I want to know all about her...”

“She was... wilful. Very strong-minded, almost defiant. You couldn't tell her what to do, and we soon learned not to try,” a forlorn smile slowly spreads across Akito's face as he digs deep into his memories, “I don't mean to say that she was a bad child or that she ever got in trouble. If anything, she was always very well behaved... although your mother might not have seen it that way. There were some arguments, back in those days.”

“Let me guess,” you think aloud, “Boys?”

“Boys, and staying out late,” your father confirms, “She would go out at night, and not show up for hours. Sometimes, she didn't come back until the next morning. We accepted it, after a while, but your mother was never happy about... the example she was setting. You might remember this, but you always tried to follow Hikari around, even on those late night trips. We tried our best to stop you, but... you always did find a way to sneak out. Amazing really.”

You laugh a little at that, trying to picture yourself at the age of fourteen, sneaking past your vigilant but frustrated parents. Akito laughs along with you for a moment, but then his expression grows serious.

“Your mother tells me that you're starting to stay out as well,” he sighs, “And come home later and later. I suppose it was inevitable, but... you will be careful, won't you? If something happened to you as well...”

“I'm not doing anything... dangerous,” you lie, looking away from your father and trying to keep the awkwardness from creeping into your voice, “I'm just hanging out with some people from school. I've made some new friends lately, it's... nice. They're nice. More or less nice.” Taking out your phone, you pull up the photograph of you and Chiaki. “See?” you ask as you show Akito the picture, “Her name is Chiaki. She fainted, and I helped get her to the nurse. Now, I guess we're friends.”

“Chiaki?” Akito repeats, “Oh, I think I know her parents! They work on-”

But he stops himself here, as he always does, before he can say too much.

[1/2]

>>1416279
Oh, so our epithets are shared by everyone that's chosen by their particular god? That explains why 'Heavenly Child' feels awkwardly, I suppose.

>>1416301
>What was Hikari like? I want to know all about her...

>>1416356

>Yes, that's correct. The titles are all associated with a specific god, rather than the person who is chosen by them.

>>1416352

“Well, they speak very highly of her, although sometimes they worry about her schooling. If you do spend some time with her, do try and help her study a little, won't you?” Akito pats you on the arm again, “Terrible, what happened to her sister...”

And the awkwardness returns, pressing back down upon you. Wincing a little, you turn away and glance back at your mother. She's still staring into the lake, transfixed by the reflected sunlight. “Was it hard?” you ask suddenly, speaking before you've fully thought through your words, “Keeping it... her... a secret for so long, I mean.”

“At first, it was so hard. We tried not to let it show, let you see us grieving, but it wasn't always possible. I worried about whether or not we were neglecting you, or harming you in some way. I suppose we both retreated, in our own ways. I had my job, I volunteered for as many extra shifts as I could, and your mother...” Akito closes his eyes for a moment, pain darting across his face, “I don't know how she coped. She suffered more than I did, I think.”

“I'm... sorry,” you murmur, without quite knowing why you're apologising. Opening his eyes again, Akito gives you a kindly smile.

“You've got nothing to apologise for,” he assures you, “In time, it got easier. We started to believe our own lies. Of course, we had to live with the consequences of our decision.” A sudden laugh escapes the man, causing your mother to jolt up and rise to her feet. “Once I got a reputation for being a hard worker, my fate was sealed,” Akito adds with a rueful smile, “But I suppose we all have to pay for our sins somehow, don't we?”

“You shouldn't laugh like that,” Yui scolds, returning to your side, “Not here, of all places. It's vulgar.”

“Sorry,” you and your father say in unison, bowing in perfect symmetry. Yui's lips tighten into a thin line, pressed together to keep the smile from showing on her lips. Her bright eyes, though, reveal the truth.

-

With a few hours left before the next train arrives to bring you back to Ark City, Akito suggests making the most of the day out. A stroll through the woods, in other words, a chance for you to learn how to appreciate nature. He says this with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, as if he knows something that you don't. Unimpressed with the idea, Yui elected to remain behind in a sleepy little cafe, nursing a strong cup of black coffee.

“Like I said,” Akito jokes as you're starting down the forest trail, “Not really a nature person.”

[2/3]

>Next post might be delayed a little, sorry about this.

>>1416352
I think it's safe to say Hikari was magicalgirling all night through.

>>1416437
Have we asked Kurosawa about Hikari? Maybe he knows something?

>>1416455
We'll have to ask him later.
We'll also have to ask whether she was hit by a truck.
Because the trucks are AI-controlled.

>>1416408

You're not really much of a nature person either, now that you come to think about it. The last time you really paid any real attention to a tree, you were trying to beat it to death. For obvious reasons, you don't mention that to your father.

“I said that there wasn't much of an ecosystem around here,” Akito says as you walk along the dirt trail, “Truth be told, there isn't much of an ecosystem anywhere in these parts. Pollution is one reason, and then there's the radiation – a lot of got blown over after the war – but really, we don't know why some ecosystems have started to fail. It's not all bad news, mind you, there are still some regions that thrive. The Mizuhashi Reserve, for example.”

“Okay...” you reply slowly, “You're seriously hinting at something now. I'll bite, what is it?”

“I'm told that you'll be having a class trip next week. It was supposed to be a few weeks away, but with that storm due to hit, the dates had to be shuffled around a little,” Akito chuckles softly, “You'll be visiting-”

“The Mizuhashi Reserve,” you guess, “Right?”

“Don't worry about it!” slapping you on the back, Akito gives you a warm smile, “It's not all swamp, you know!”

-

Today, you think to yourself as the train clicks steadily back towards Ark City, was a good day. You feel like you've put some ghosts to rest, visiting Hikari's grave. Nothing has changed, not really, but you feel a lot more content. Calm, centred. More comfortable with your own life, and less like you've just borrowed someone else's. The trip might have eaten up a significant chunk of your time off, but it was well worth it.

When you arrive back at Ark City, at the train station, Akito takes you aside for a quiet word. “Miho,” he says gravely, “I need a favour.”

“Uh...” frowning, you give him a shrug, “Sure, I guess. What is it?”

“I wonder if you could spend the evening with one of your new friends,” he asks, a look of intense seriousness crossing his face, “It's been a tough day for your mother, and I wanted to treat her to a quiet meal at home. I hope this isn't too much of an imposition, but...”

“But you want some space,” you guess, “I can do that, sure.”

“Thank you, I knew you'd understand,” Akito gives you a grateful smile, “Call when you're on your way home. We'll... fix some dinner for you, as well. Anyway, I appreciate this.” Patting you on the arm, he hurries away to rejoin your mother, his step light and carefree.

Shuddering a little at the unwelcome thoughts forming in your mind, you reach for your phone. Looks like you've got some time to kill...

>Call up Chiaki, maybe you can hang out
>Call Maika, help her with some of her research
>Call the Sentinels, see if they're willing to meet you
>Other

>>1416477
>>Call Maika, help her with some of her research

>>1416477
>>Call up Chiaki, maybe you can hang out

>>1416477
>Call Maika, help her with some of her research
>She probably can also dig up something about Hikari

>>1416477
>Call Maika, help her with some of her research

Maika did say that you could stop by and help her with her research, maybe you'll take her up on that offer. Truth be told, you're not quite sure about how much help you'll be able to offer her, but it's a way to pass the time. You've been told to make yourself scarce, and this is as good a way of doing it as any. Pulling up her number, you press the phone to your ear and listen as it rings precisely once.

[Kanzaki Automated Industries,] a digital voice answers immediately, [Your call is important to us. You are now being redirected to your chosen destination.]

A moment of pure, absolute silence, and then:

“Miho?” Maika answers, “Hello. It's good to hear from you.”

“Maika, hey. Nice, uh, answering machine,” you pause, “I was thinking of stopping by today, helping you with your stuff. Is that okay? It's not too late, is it?”

“No, not at all. I'll make the arrangements. You're not wearing anything that covers your face, are you? No helmets, no religious garb?” she clears her throat lightly, the sound like a short cough of static, “The security staff don't like that sort of thing. It causes problems with their facial recognition software. Well, no matter. I'll let them know that you're coming. We've got pictures from the last time you were here, so they shouldn't bother you. Just to be on the safe side, however, you should probably bring photographic identification.”

“That's... a lot of security,” you remark, “Has someone been making trouble for you?”

“Father is having one of his episodes,” Maika explains delicately, choosing her words with care, “It's really nothing that you need to worry about. I'm looking forwards to seeing you.” Then she cuts the line, leaving you with that digital voice again, endlessly repeating a bland roll of marketing slogans. Staring at your phone for a moment longer, you slip it into your pocket and start walking.

-

With your hands shoved into your pockets, you walk steadily towards what you've come to think of as the Kanzaki Compound. Somewhere along the way, Kurosawa falls into step beside you, saying nothing at all. Watching him prowl beside you, thinking back to when he appeared at Hikari's grave, a terrible thought starts to form in your mind. Your father spoke about how Hikari would go out all night, doing god knows what. Could she have been...

Could she have been doing what you are now doing? Could she have been fighting the Intruders as well?

The idea boils and churns within your mind as you walk, arguments for and against warring against each other. Eventually, you stop dead in your tracks and look down at Kurosawa. “Hey,” you ask him bluntly, “We need to talk.”

“I'm sure,” the cat repeats, “But perhaps not in the street, where any passing stranger can see.”

[1/2]

>>1416539

Slinking into a dark alley, you crouch down to look Kurosawa in the eye. His eyes change ever so slightly whenever he blinks, a constantly shifting ocean of green and gold. You study him for a while before realising the futility of what you're doing – even if he wasn't a cat, you're certain that Kurosawa would only show you what he wanted to show you. Sighing, you gather up your courage and spit out the question.

“Hikari,” you blurt out, “Hikari Tsukada. Was she a magical girl?”

“Magical girl,” Kurosawa repeats blandly, “I am unfamiliar with the-”

“God!” throwing up your hands in frustration, you glare at the cat, “Was she one of us? Like me, like Maika, like any of us?”

Kurosawa fixes you with his green and gold eyes for a long time, looking into your eyes just as you look into his. The moment seems to drag out longer and longer, before he finally answers. “No,” Kurosawa says simply. One word, that's all he gives you.

You feel, in the face of that blunt declaration, deflated. Slumping back against the wall, you slide back down and let the breath hiss out of your lungs. “No,” you repeat, “So how did she die?”

“I don't know,” Kurosawa replies simply, “One individual life is not-”

“Enough,” you snap, cutting the cat off before he can say much more than that, “Don't start that crap. Just don't. I don't want to-” This time, Kurosawa is the one to cut you off, vanishing in a flicker of visual static. Left alone in the alley, it takes you a moment before you can haul yourself to your feet and stagger out into the street. As you numbly return to walking towards Maika's home, you recall something Ayane said not so long ago. Her words repeat through your mind, over and over again. You had been talking about Kurosawa, then, about some of the other things he had told you. Ayane's words had been simple, but incredulous:

“And you believe him?”

>I think I'm going to close things up here. I'll start a new thread on Friday, and if anyone has any questions I'll answer them as best I can
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!

>>1416607
Thanks for running!
How'd you make your header image? You edit that yourself for you use some kind of site to make it?

>>1416607

Thanks for running, I'm going to feel real bad if it turns out that he's been telling us the truth the whole time (though I don't think he is)

>>1416628

There's nothing particularly fancy about it, I just used Microsoft Paint to slap some text on an image I found. I'm not very good with image editing, so I don't try anything too complicated. It gets the job done!

>>1416654
While true that it's not super special or anything it's still clean and draws the eye. Great things for a header image. I was just asking just in case there was a way I didn't know of to edit an image with text since I'll need a good one.

>>1416607
Thanks for running Moloch.

>>1416352
Oh, so Hikari was a Magical Girl too. Explains her mysterious death. Wish I was around for this.