|
Dean groaned as he sat down at the kitchen table, opposite Miku and to the left of the owner of the house. Ryo Sakuma looked mostly as Dean remembered him: tall, square-jawed and friendly-looking; hair short, thick and dark brown, eyes younger than the rest of his face; a startling likeness to his online persona, the Blademaster Bear. Dressed in worn brown slacks and a blue t-shirt, he sat forward in his chair, watching Dean as he told his story.
“So, yeah, it’s been an interesting evening,” he finished.
Ryo nodded slightly. “So I see.”
“And that’s why I’m here,” Dean continued. “I need to know as much as I can about Aura. I want to get an idea of what we’re dealing with here.”
“You said they were meeting with heads from both companies,” said Ryo. “How do you know they’re not blackmailing Cyber Connect?”
Dean shrugged. “There’s not much to blackmail. They bought Fragment from Harald and modified it, but Morganna and Aura, far as I know, have been there the whole time. Even if it gets out that these things are in there, Cyber Connect has deniability – doubly so because apparently not even most of the dev team knew about them. And let’s not forget, that A) Felix is an ex-con, and B) Asara is, uh,” he cleared his throat, looking sheepish, “under a lot of scrutiny after that whole attempted data theft thing.”
“In a nutshell, if I know what it… what she does, then I can get an idea of what they want to do with her.” Palm up, he motioned to Ryo. “So what can you tell me about… uh, An, was it?”
Ryo glanced at Miku, who gave a short nod. “You know about Tsukasa? How Morganna trapped her in the world, made her believe that she was Tsukasa?”
“More or less,” said Dean.
“There’s not as much to it as you might suspect, offline, at least. Her father is under arrest; when she woke from her coma, I was able to obtain legal custody of her.”
“Why was he arrested?”
Ryo frowned. “He tried to take her off life support. Forcibly.” Shaking his head, he added, “Several counts of negligence, and assault too.” He saw Dean cringe at the charges. “She didn’t have any family who could take her in, and… she needed a fath… someone to take care of her.”
Dean made a semi-conscious note of Ryo’s Freudian half-slip. “That was nice of you,” he said as honestly as he could, though he was worried he sounded less than convincing.
“It’s the least she deserves,” said Ryo. “Especially after all she’s been through.”
“I can only imagine,” Dean replied. “May I speak with her? Does she speak English?”
“Yes, she speaks English. She’s upstairs in her room, go ahead. Second door on your left.”
Politely excusing himself, Dean pushed out from the table, stood up and left the kitchen. He passed under a small archway and climbed the set of steps to the upper floor of the house. He strode down the dimly lit hallway and stopped before the door Ryo had indicated, which was closed.
Doing his best to shed all preconceptions, he raised a hand and knocked gently. “An?” he called. “It’s Dean. May I come in?”
“Yes, please.”
The door creaked gently as it opened, and Dean stepped into the well-lit bedroom. The walls were painted a sky blue, with navy sheets on the bed and matching pillowcases. A few posters were taped to the walls, one he recognized as a pop singer, another apparently a promo from an anime-style role playing game, title written in kanji he couldn’t read. A desk sat in the far corner, next to the window and opposite the bed; on the desk was the classic computer setup: monitor, speakers, printer and keyboard, with the desktop on the floor and a library of software neatly stacked on the top shelf.
Sitting in an office chair, in blue jeans and a purple long-sleeve shirt, the player of Tsukasa looked up at him expectantly; her short, dark hair was just long enough to touch the back of her neck, with a few strands hanging down over her eyes. Her thin face was full of color and life, but there was something to her eyes he couldn’t place, so he focused his attention elsewhere. The girl’s figure was slim, but far from athletic, or at least obviously so. Her posture was straight and stiff; she was clearly uncomfortable, and her hands, folded in her lap, were wringing each other. She appeared to be waiting for him to speak first.
He obliged, closing the door behind him. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said, studying her reaction. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with me about this.” He stepped further into the room, maintaining a comfortable distance between him and her. “I understand this might not be something you like to talk about, and I want you to know I appreciate the effort.”
An nodded, somewhat curtly. (She’s quiet,) he thought, his analysis dropping in intensity and replaced with pity. (It’s just like Miku and Ryo said.) “What can you tell me about Aura?” he asked.
“What do you want to know?” she asked back, her words quiet and to the point.
“I’m trying to find out why someone would try to kidnap her from ‘The World.’ What she’s capable of, or what she could be used for.” He walked over to the bed, slightly further away from the desk, and sat down. “How much do you know about her?”
“I… watched over her while she slept,” said An, slowly relaxing. “I didn’t know then that we were connected… I didn’t know what to think. She kept whispering to me… talking to me, telling me that she would…”
“She?” Dean interrupted. “You mean Morganna?”
She nodded. “Yes. As long as I remained on her… on her ‘side’, Aura and I would be safe. When I started to disobey her…” she shivered. “That’s when she punished us.”
“Punished you?”
An gulped, looking away from Dean. “It… it felt like she… like something was gnawing away at me … I was helpless. It’s been over a year, and I still remember how it felt. Exactly how it felt.” She looked back at him, and saw his questioning stare. “She ‘killed’ me… uh, Tsukasa, the character. That’s all that happened, but to me… to me it felt real.”
Dean felt his throat tighten. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
If she took solace from his words, she didn’t show it. “That’s really when it started to happen, when she began to corrupt Aura. For a while I thought she was doing it because of me… I didn’t know that’s what she wanted to do all along.”
“What could she have done if she succeeded?” Dean asked. “What was she trying to corrupt Aura for?”
“I don’t really know,” said An. “Morganna was powerful within ‘The World’, but her power was not absolute. Ryo told me a while ago that she wanted to expand beyond her limitations. I think that’s what she needed Aura for.”
Dean tilted his head towards An. “But how? What is Aura?”
“Something that she wasn’t,” said An. “Aura was alive.”
“Alive?”
An curled her lips back, and opened them once to answer, but stopped. After a few seconds, she tried again. “The only way I can understand it is that… she was potential. She could change, while Morganna could not. That’s why she needed Aura, who wasn’t… I…” she frowned, “I don’t know how to say…”
“It’s all right, I think I understand,” said Dean. His voice was unusually quiet, his eyes locked hard on hers; that indistinct quality revealed itself to him once more, and this time he knew what it was.
(She, too, is trapped by ‘The World.’) He lightly chewed on his tongue. (Even if she’s no longer trapped in it.)
“I’m sorry I can’t say more,” she said with genuine regret. “But she is alive. She’s not just a program… or if she is, she’s unlike any I’ve ever seen.”
“She’s potential,” said Dean, thinking aloud. “And what would they want with potential… what wouldn’t they want with potential.” Focusing on her again, he said, “You’ve been very helpful, An. Thank you.”
He stood up, and headed for the door. Before he could get there, he heard the sound of wheels rolling on the hardwood floor, followed by a squeaking from the chair as An also rose to her feet. “Wait,” she said in that same gentle, yet unemotional tone.
Dean turned back to her. “Hmm?”
“You said… they’re trying to steal her?”
He nodded gravely. “I don’t know why, yet, but with what you’ve told me, I’ve got an idea. It’s something I didn’t even think about. I believe you, An. I saw her too. She is alive.”
“You saw her?” she asked. “When? Did she say anything?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t say anything to me; it was just after… a friend of mine stopped the attempt to copy her. I was… I was trapped, too, in a way, and she helped to wake me up.”
She tilted her head, curiosity overwhelming anxiety. “Was she okay?”
In his mind, he recalled the image of the ghostly white girl; the look of pain in her eyes, the small, decaying piece of code and data where a part of her robe should have been. His face grew dark without him even realizing, and she let out a small gasp.
When he met An’s eyes, all he saw was pleading. “You’ll stop them?” she asked.
“I’m trying,” he said honestly. “I’m trying.”
-
[From: Kite
To: Stolls
Subj: Advice
Hi, Dean. Yasu and I have been going over my computer; we had to do a format, but we got rid of the bugs in the system. It should be safe to mail each other now. I was hoping to chat with you tonight, there’s a few things I wanted to ask you. If you’re not too busy, could you meet me in Delta root town?
- Hiro]
-
He brushed his hands across his jeans, finishing the job started by the bathroom towel. Flicking the light switch, he stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the stairs.
“…that the truth. I didn’t have to wait for him to tell me about it.”
Dean stopped at the sounds of laughter, male and female.
Miku’s voice reached his ears with remarkable ease. “I just didn’t think you’d notice. Or maybe I thought it wasn’t that obvious.”
Ryo chuckled. “It wasn’t, really. I just asked a lot of questions.”
Silently, Dean tiptoed down the stairs; although neither deft nor agile, he was yet blessed with a naturally quiet step, and knew enough about sneaking not to make noise on wooden steps. He flattened his back against the railing, almost sliding down the stairway as he approached the archway leading to the kitchen.
“It is still awkward,” said Miku. “I haven’t spoken with him since.”
“Well, he doesn’t play as much either,” said Ryo. “We all sort of drifted apart, didn’t we?”
“Maybe.”
Dean felt something odd in the pit of his stomach, odd and unwelcome. He reached the bottom step and snuck over to the arch, not daring to poke his head around just yet.
“Maybe?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Another chuckle, this one deeper. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
Dean was tempted to guess. “So it’s not that obvious,” was Miku’s non-answer.
“Come on,” urged Ryo. “Things haven’t changed that much since then, have they?”
“Some things,” said Miku softly. “But… not all of them.”
“Not all of them,” Ryo echoed. “Anything in particular?”
A pause. “Yes,” she answered carefully.
Dean swore he could hear the smile in her voice, and could almost imagine it. The feeling in his stomach grew, and grew more unpleasant. He couldn’t gauge what, exactly, they were talking about; it was the way they spoke that fed the unusual sensation.
Swallowing, he straightened himself out and stepped through the archway. Miku and Ryo were seated opposite each other at the table, both holding cups of what appeared to be coffee. They looked up at him as he entered, and Ryo greeted him. “Hey. Did you find anything out?”
He nodded, glancing at Miku, and then back at Ryo. “I think so. She told me a few things about Aura that change the motive a little. I need to mull a few things over for a while, though.”
“So you’re headed out?” asked Ryo.
Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he looked at Miku, “if you’re ready that is.”
“Mmm,” mumbled Miku amidst taking a sip of the dark liquid. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay a little longer. It’s…” she eyed Ryo, “been a while.”
“It’s all right, I’ll drive her home,” said Ryo, setting his cup down. “Is there anything else you need? Anything I can do for you?”
Putting aside the ever-increasing unease in his gut, Dean smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I think I’m good, thanks. I’ll see you guys later. Call me if you think of anything else that might help.”
“Sure thing. Good night, Dean.”
-
The door slammed behind him as he kicked it shut. One hand flipped the light switch, the other turned the lock and latched the chain, old habits dying hard. The comfortable warmth of the apartment surrounded and caressed him, freeing him from the modest chill of the outside air. He kicked his shoes off and wandered towards the couch, tossing his leather jacket over a nearby chair.
The drive home was longer and darker than he remembered, though he chalked that up to him not meeting with Ryo in months. Harder to deny was the silence of the ride, irritating despite the radio and the purr of the engine. That silence stayed with him as he entered the building, stepped onto the elevator, walked into his apartment.
He collapsed on the couch, a green-and-yellow old thing which had come with the apartment, nonetheless sturdy and clean as the day it was made. It, too, comforted him, welcomed him home, but it did little to end the silence.
Dean sighed. He should have had dozens of questions, theories about what An had told him, but he couldn’t get his mind off the last things he’d heard at Ryo’s house; the conversation between him and Miku. The more he dwelled on it, the louder the silence in his mind became.
He turned on the TV; more of the same. It wouldn’t go away. Though he couldn’t think, he knew what the problem was – he had since he started driving home.
He was jealous.
|