...11/09/2009 Friday; Afternoon...
Mitsuru kept staring at the closed door, as if still expecting to hear her father's footsteps fading down the hallway.
She pulled the duvet aside, revealing part of her legs beneath the hospital pajamas, and let out a quiet sigh.
Thoughts spun in her mind.
Her grandfather's atrocities… How far had he gone in the name of researching the Shadows?
How many lives had he destroyed because of that obsession?
How many were still suffering because of the Dark Hour?
She didn't know.
But something pulled her back to the present. Her eyes shifted toward Hiro.
He stood with his back turned, motionless, head bowed. His silence was heavy.
A tightness gripped Mitsuru's chest.
"Hiro…" — her voice came out soft, laced with concern.
He remained quiet for a few seconds. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his mind far away — lost in words he never expected to hear.
It was the first time, in his entire life, that someone had said something concrete about his mother.
Mitsuru's voice brought him back. He blinked, as if waking from a dream, then turned to face her.
"Ah… sorry." — he scratched his head, his eyes a little distant. — "It's just... that was the first time I ever heard anything about my mom."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. His gaze fixed on the floor, as if it could pierce through it.
"Ever since I was born... I never really knew much about who she was. I dunno... it's like getting hit with a bucket of cold water."
Mitsuru watched him silently, capturing every nuance of that restrained sadness. His pain… somehow, it hurt inside her too.
"I guess that explains why you never talk about her much," — she said gently.
"Yeah..." — Hiro replied with a faint smile, glancing at her. — "There's not much to say. But sometimes... I wish I could talk to her."
His words carried an invisible weight, yet felt as light as a whisper.
Mitsuru couldn't hold back anymore.
Carefully, she placed her hand over his.
Hiro was surprised by the gesture, but didn't pull away. His eyes met hers. There was something there — something beyond words. A connection they had felt before... and now, stronger than ever.
"I think my father was right," — Mitsuru said tenderly. — "Your mother would be proud of you, for being here with us... trying to save people from the Dark Hour."
Hiro nodded, gently squeezing her hand. A tired smile crossed his face.
"Hunf... true. But I don't think she'd be too thrilled about us pointing guns at our own heads."
For a moment, silence.
They stared at each other, eyes wide — as if realizing at the same time just how absurd that sentence sounded.
And then… laughter.
Hiro laughed first, free and light. Mitsuru tried to hold hers back with a hand over her lips, but eventually gave in.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, and soon she was laughing the same way he was — as if, for a moment, the room had forgotten all the pain.
Their laughter filled the air — soft and natural.
That little emotional storm had passed.
...11/09/2009 Friday; Dusk...
The sky had long lost its orange hues, and darkness was slowly creeping over the city.
Leaning against the rear of a black car with tinted windows, Takeharu Kirijo watched the horizon with crossed arms and a tense expression. The heel of his shoe tapped rhythmically against the concrete, a restlessness in its beat.
The wind gently rustled the hem of his overcoat. His eyes, always so steady, now wandered as though searching the emptiness for a missing piece of a puzzle.
"Why does that Evoker still exist…?" he murmured inwardly.
He had been clear: all prototypes from Project Akuma were meant to be destroyed, buried as a past mistake.
Yet one had reappeared. Recovered from a Shadow.
A motorcycle engine's roar tore through the silence.
Takeharu lifted his gaze to see a red bike rolling slowly across the parking lot. The rider eased off the throttle until he stopped beside the car. The mirrored helmet reflected the hospital's lights. As the rider drew closer, he parked.
It was Shuji Ikutsuki.
His carefree smile clashed with the tense atmosphere. He removed his helmet, resting it on the handlebar, then turned toward Takeharu.
"Takeharu! What a surprise to see you here. Traffic was awful. Did you come to visit Mi—"
"Cut the crap." Takeharu's voice sliced through the air like a blade. "Do you remember Project Akuma?"
Ikutsuki froze. He didn't respond—only turned his head slightly, as if buying time.
But sweat betrayed him, trickling down his neck.
"Project Akuma?" he forced a smile, voice too light. "Wow, that name hasn't come up in years. Isn't that the project suspended because of—"
"Yes, exactly that." Takeharu uncrossed his arms and stepped forward. "I spoke with Mitsuru and Hiro. And do you know what Hiro saw? An Evoker. One identical to the ones you developed, Ikutsuki."
Ikutsuki's pupils widened.
"That's impossible…" he raised his hands defensively. "I made sure they were all destroyed. This must be a mistake, some leftover—"
Takeharu barged forward.
In an instant, he grabbed Ikutsuki by the collar and slammed him against the car's side. The metal clang echoed through the empty lot.
"Argh!" Ikutsuki groaned in pain.
But there was no time to recover. Takeharu pressed him against the vehicle, one hand gripping his neck with terrifying precision.
Takeharu's eyes burned with fury.
"Don't lie to me!" His voice was a barely contained growl. "I gave you a clear order: all prototypes were to be destroyed. ALL of them! And now one shows up—with your fingerprints on it?"
"Ta—Takeharu…!" Ikutsuki writhed, trying to fight free. "I swear… I—I oversaw their destruction…!"
"You're hiding something. The pieces don't add up."
The car's body creaked under Ikutsuki's weight. Takeharu's grip was surgical—tight enough to threaten, but not enough to silence him.
Silence in the parking lot was nearly suffocating. Ikutsuki twisted his neck nervously, eyes darting around.
No sound but the distant hum of the city. Just the two of them.
Ikutsuki swallowed hard. Takeharu remained there, his presence as heavy as his gaze.
Ikutsuki hesitated, then forced his voice steady: "Takeharu, I swear on God I'm not lying."
Takeharu raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized him.
"Then how do you explain one of the prototypes surfacing out of nowhere?" he snarled, his fury dripping from every word.
"I DON'T KNOW!" Ikutsuki's shout rang between the concrete walls.
His breathing was ragged, almost panting—as if the tension had stolen his air.
Takeharu didn't flinch. His gaze, cold as ice, drilled into him.
"How do you know it was one of mine?" he pressed, pointing a firm finger at Ikutsuki. "There's no way someone could replicate one. The explosion destroyed nearly all documentation."
"Do you think I don't know that?" Ikutsuki clutched Takeharu's arm, desperation in his eyes. "I saw that lab go up with dozens of people inside!"
He turned toward the hospital building, anger mixed with indignation. "Besides… why would I leave one prototype intact, knowing what they do to people?"
Takeharu's expression hardened.
"Logically, the smart move would've been never to build those Evokers in the first place. But in the end, you were the one who suggested them to my father."
Ikutsuki nodded solemnly, his voice heavy with regret.
"Yes… I was a damn fool to create it. But I regretted it. Why do you think I agreed when you asked me to destroy my own creation?"
Heavy silence followed, suffocating in its intensity.
Suddenly, Takeharu's hand tightened on Ikutsuki's throat. The general's eyes burned—unyielding grip, lethal intention.
Ikutsuki gasped, struggling to breathe. For a moment, it seemed like this would be the end.
Then—
The grip released.
Ikutsuki staggered, nearly dropping to his knees. He braced himself, massaging his throat to regain breath, emerging as if from underwater.
Takeharu continued towering over him, expression frozen.
"Listen carefully," he growled. His voice was low and cutting. "If anything happens to Mitsuru or anyone from S.E.E.S… I swear by my name—I will kill you. Understood?"
Ikutsuki simply nodded, eyes wide, breaths shallow. His hand reflexively clutched his neck, where Takeharu's fingers left a burning mark.
Takeharu adjusted his tie, sealing the threat with a mechanical gesture.
"Good. I hope that Evoker gets found soon."
He turned and opened the car door with a sharp click. The engine purred, then reversed before speeding away, exiting the lot.
In the rearview mirror, Ikutsuki's figure shrank… until it vanished.
Outside, he remained still.
Silence was all that filled the space.
He continued massaging his throat, eyes fixed on the curve where the car disappeared.
...TO BE CONTINUED...