Sora Takeda.
Wind wrapped around me, sky already morphed to pitch black. Finishing at 6:45PM, and having some IT work to do. Some vending machines glowed in harmony with some neon lights. Glowed as the screen on my phone, I checked my phone: some unread messages. Later.
School? Training. Guessing people's reactions, the class. Counting the windows, chairs, desks. Teasing a classmate, "studying" before the professor comes in. Ah, professor. Such an annoying job. You get up earlier than your students to repeat the same script everyday. I've become used to predicting my teachers moves. Which is uninteresting. I don't need my planning to know what comes next.
As an IT student, I have access to parts of the school others don't. Still limited though. Doesn't bother me, a 15 years old kid could totally crack the admin servers here. Two clicks— access granted. Students' dqata in pocket too, but I don't really acknowledge their work. Only that black-haired dude with the top grades in the school. It almost made me scoff and roll my eyes when I peeked through his work— barely held back. I still have to play my role as the NPC.
Rin became a side-character. I wasn't surprised he had the top grades in his major. But I was mostly interested in how he became so popular in such a small time. A test, again. Who is he? What does he want? Who is Error? What's their next threat?
Training.
I wonder if that's enough for the challenges in the future— Do I even have a future? Hanging myself would already save my entire life. Though, I already encountered one challenge. It would be dumb to think it'll be the only one. The Consequence, maybe? I wonder how it'll be.
On my way to the train station, with a mask—as tradition encourages— covering the lower part of my face and my bag hanging on my shoulders, I tried to act as natural as possible. Tired steps, hair in place. Eyes forced wide, jaw loose. Only 47 minutes until home. Home. I mean, my apartment. Comforting, welcoming, cozy place— that's "home". My own definition of "home" is a place to eat and sleep. As life is supposed to be. Survive. Just like a game. You sleep to fill your stamina for the day, eat for your hunger. And school is a side quest. If you die, game over. Or maybe that's just the definition of an apartment, or a house. A home is supposed to be a place where you feel safe. Whatever.
Some would say finishing late like this is tiring. Some. I'm already used to worst.
In front of Ikebukuro's station, I take the stairs, noticing some tourists with their luggages, probably trying to find a hotel. Some dumb memes of Aoi when checking messages— the same as always. He was getting boring.
Hm, in 5 seconds—
"Attention passengers. The next train arriving on platform 2 is the Hakone-Kamakura line, with service to Kawasaki, Yokohama, Shinagawa, and Tokyo Central—"
The voice then distorted a bit on the microphone, glitching before taking the same tone:
"—don't move unless you want to clean their blood."
Resumed back, the tone unchanging.
"Please stand behind the safety line."
My eyes narrowed. Glancing left to right— no reactions. Am I hallucinating? Or was it a Pearl? Well, both could be possible. Was this directed at me? Seems so.
The train screeches, coming at a fast pace and slowly stopping. Taking a step to the side of the door and letting people pass, I then got in, guard being my only thoughts.
The rumbling sound of the rails made my mind focus even more. The vehicle was crowded, mostly of students, like any other day. But less crowded since it was late. My eyes look from the number of seats to the pole, nothing seeming unusual.
30 minutes passed, soon home. I kept watching my surroundings from my peripheral vision, not missing anything that was happening.
But only now did I notice one of them shifting, as if waiting for something. A shift in weight, hand on phone. They were three, one with a cap, one with sunglasses, and a girl with nothing other than her mask. All on their phones, supposedly minding their business.
The atmosphere seemed, as always, tense, without anything actually putting me in danger. I was still on guard, always on guard. Anything could disappear in a blink—
They were gone. In a blink, the three of them disappeared—
Laughs.
On the floor, on my knees. It took me 10 seconds to process my surroundings. My mask was there, a trace of shoe stepped on—huge show of disrespect. My bag, next to me, opened and some of my stuff threw on the floor.
Clothes— messed with. Teens were taking pictures of me before taking them back in their pockets quickly when I looked up. They were in the middle of laughing at me… and I didn't notice. It was like I forgot everything.
My eyes then flicked to my belt instinctively. My USB-key— gone. It was meant to trace whoever stole it. A trap. But it's also…
My encryption data. Codes I created myself to hack. With that, I can hack anything. Everything. Shit. I'm fucked without that.
I noticed a key… they predicted mine was a tracker. And they were challenging me. The USB-key looked normal. Black without anything. But I had to study it at home… home.
Suddenly, my head snapped to the doors as I heard a pair of eyes on me.
— "Fetch." The sunglasses nearly slipped—an eye decorated with a ticking clock in his silver pupils.
Doors closed.
No need to think— that stop was just mine to Kawisaka. Too late.
I felt some shuffle on my back— a piece of paper. I snatched it in a move, ignoring the laughter of others.
'Step on me.' was written. That's the reason for my backache too, it seems.
The fact people were laughing at me— my face especially, made me turn to my side, looking at my reflection, —same mist appearing in the eyes of my reflection— it nearly made me scoff. Doodles and makeup. There was a dick on my forehead, and a bra drew on my cheek. Some pet names on my face, lipstick's scent filling my nostrils as it stained my lips with eyeshadow— seemed like good quality, I admire the effort. Some words etched on my face: "PUPPY ON SALE'. I pretended to be flustered, in success. It was all a test to see if I was gonna flinch or not anyways. Too predictable.
The back of my knees hurt, as if someone kicked me there to make me collapse. It does hurt, even with a high pain tolerance.
Laces tied together—you won't get me. I tied them back in a swift motion before taking my bag and sitting on one of the empty seats next. People were staring at me awkwardly through the corner of their eyes, teenagers nearly holding back their stifled laughs.
A hand in my pocket— no tissue. Stole. To keep the doodles on my face— all planned. My wallet. 1¥. Only one. My eyes rolled subconsciously, my mask letting a crack. Damn it.
A message on the window next to me, and that made my eyes narrow even further: "At least we left you 1¥, pet."
That just shows how they could mess with my social status. They could've done more, but chose not to. Annoying.
A symbol. Some circles on the window. That was the symbol, circles in and on other circles.
'Tamers.txt'
My mind worked fast— Error. That guy. The guy I hacked. He had a file on that. I still have the files that I stole, but I think he might know more… Was he linked? Was it him? Not sure. But I know he knows something.
My eyes nearly glitched back to a purple mist from my earlier annoyance, quickly blinking to not let anyone see. They could've killed me, kidnapped me, or done something worse, but didn't. That was their message.
The speakers in the train turned on, signaling stopping at Tsurumi. I got up casually, the painting on my face.
Stop. Acting too casually would catch me. I force my stiff body to act vulnerable, my shoulders tensing for a mere second before glancing down— avoiding the eyes of people, hastily putting back my clothes on the way to the doors. And trying to push some brown hair over my face as the doors opened. People stared at me, some laughing and others staying silent.
Next time we meet, I'll twist their joints backwards to the point I hear their tendons snap like delicious moans.
…
I took the second train back to Kawisaka. Quite boring the way people kept staring at me. Couldn't they have done better than just staring? I had to take the whole walk back home when leaving the train station. Glad it was the night, less crowd. I took my phone, as the screen glowed again, and got on social media.
Great.
#PublicHumiliation #KawisakaL #Makeup #Train #Statue #Newreference #Brosgonnagetdumpedtonight #Whatsthecontext #Thepersonreadingthisishot #Clowninwrongplace
Now I just have to deal with their mess for months… just great—
Rin.
Why did I think of him? Probably because I hate the fact that he could see that. Especially if he's Error— my suspicions increasing. Funny how I got wrecked. Especially me, soon after I hacked him both times. Does he suspect me? Probably. But he couldn't be Error. Not enough proof.
Home sweet home—my ass. As soon as I opened the door—no one entered from the position of the doorknob— my appearance shifted back to Yurei when I closed it. Clothes shifting to the usual baggy ones I wear, sweatpants and a hoodie. I throw my bag on the couch, pissed at my loss. Bathrooms, I apply some makeup remover— old, since I don't do makeup often. But it did the job. Not even a glance at myself in the mirror, just rinsing my face. No way would I look at that.
Damn it. How did I lose? Against some random organization the worst. How. How the fuck.
I look up.
— "You're just paying The Consequences. Slowly." Sora appeared in the mirror beside me, a forced smile cracking on his lips.
— "Such a powerful Pearl for a fragile person," Reika appeared on my other shoulder, her glitching eyes boring into mines. "burning a shithole and making a bloodbath, then losing against a few nobodies."
— "Piss off. I erased you."
They didn't leave. They melted. Tears of blood dripped from their eyes, irises drowning in black. Mouths reaching the floor until they laughed and disappeared in the floor. Leaving me watching my reflection in the mirror, panting and sweating.
Forget that. Just memories.
As I was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel on my face, breath regained, my attention got back to my bag. I checked if there was any tracer a second time. Before I got on my PC, my emerald eyes glowing to a purple mist through the reflection. Taking the USB-key from my bag, I obviously didn't plug it into my main PC. I didn't even acknowledge it, my gaze going to the faraday bag on my closet. I felt obligated to transform into Sora's body, my shortness annoying me. 1 meter and 70 centimeters is tall for a japanese woman. But never tall enough for these sorts of things.
Swapping back to Yurei, I sit on my desk and take out the laptop from the bag, powering it up and—without a glance— grab the live USB on my side, booting the secure Linux distro from the key in the laptop swiftly. No second lost. No traces.
No bluetooth. No Wi-fi. No network connection. Air-gapped. Sterile, already disabled all autoplay. Automount long dead. Laptop used for these sorts of situations.
OS loaded, eyes fixed on the screen.
Plugging next the mysterious yet suspicious key. However, not opening anything. Only terminal mode, no falling for GUI traps.
No rush. Just caution. One fuck up—laptop vanished.
Fingers type fast— a habit. Precise and fast, different commands in mind before even touching the keys. No mistake. They're damn good. The code was inexistent in the ones I know, but I still manage to counter it.
Were they related to Error?
Error had the same logo in his files. Tamers.txt was it. It seemed he wasn't in the cult, organization or gang and instead was making researches on them. I'd have to check the stolen files again later.
Launching layered scans— scripts on hunt for any bug in the device. Rootkits—check. Firmware parasites—check. Hidden sectors—check.
Ah, found ya.
Final boss: a rootkit buried deep in the USB's firmware. It's just like a real final boss, you kill them and they revive again. A pain in the ass.
Isolate the code and throw that fucking parasite in a sandboxed virtual machine. Locked down tight. Only silenced screams.
Next part. I mount the encrypted partition on read-only, dodging the malwares. Found it. I extract a file—opeeeeenme.mp4. Yes, with the five e's. Pure data, untouched. I move it to a clean and secure environnement—no risks, only 100% sure.
Malware trapped, I can finally launch this damn record.
Leaning back on my chair and taking the bubble tea on the edge of the desk— old from yesterday. Still drinkable.
Screen flickers.
Rin Shiranui.
They changed the color's lights—purplish blue. Mystery for them— Cover for me. They won't notice being a source while listening to the jazz in background. Barman offered me a drink, which I refused, with a smug glance at him.
— "When do your tasks finish so you can drink my special homemade drink I made just for you?"
— "Depends. They might even follow me through Hell." saying it more as a promise, not as a joke.
Swinging my hand up, the waiter from yesterday walked to us with the same silver tray in hand— empty and filled glasses on it. A roll of his eyes accompanied him. The barman couldn't help but chuckle with a roll of his eyes too when I grabbed a glass filled with wine. Jealous that I didn't drink his?
— "How was it?" the waiter next to us asked me as he leaned his side on the counter, his earth eyes boring into mines with exasperation.
As he pushed the tray on the counter, his eyes briefly meeting the barman's— always something they've often made. Which I've noticed.
— "How was what?" I feign ignorance, knowing damn well what he was referring to.
— "Your loss, smartass." the barman joins as he fills some glasses with wine.
— "Damn satisfying to watch." the waiter mutters to fuel the fire, watching the barman closely, jaw tense.
I hum, I am annoyed. I won't say it though. Coward? Sure. Proud of it. I sip slow, letting the silence hang, before giving them a smirk and answering.
— "Everyone loves an underdog story. He's the winner for that last match. We'll see next time."
Catching the waiter's gaze, the barman bit back a smile before looking at me, just as the waiter did.
— "Is it that guy?" he asks, which made me think.
— "He would've already been erased if I knew him. I'd send flowers afterward— just to be polite."
Too easy to predict.
— "You have peculiar ways of showing your love." the waiter teases sarcastically.
— "Killing your love and killing for your love isn't the same." I responded with the same signature smirk— a habit now, to hide any weakness.
— "Grr." the waiter mumbles, the whole conversation becoming comical.
— "You're a real drama-queen." the barman said with a raised brow.
The waiter's eyes rolled again, a smile almost appearing on his face. Before quickly vanishing— did he think I didn't notice it?
— "And you're a pain in the ass." he answers with, as the barman slipped some glasses on the tray.
— "True love." He glares. I sip.
A new song playing, my gaze then followed a path in the room before landing on three persons, out of range to eavesdrop. Outfits… trained for fights. I read on the short girl's lips, faking a banter with the barman and waiter.
'We could've added a second dick.' her cherry lips moved, a pout appearing on her face, her head tilting to the side.
'You're jealous because you want one too.' the sunglasses one replied with, leaning on the counter, expression indifferent.
They're three, all with masks covering their lower faces… I remember. The Tamers. Some pictures of them murdering a Pearl user. They're anti-Pearl users, their boss having a God-complex about Pearl users. I've already been invited once, being anonym. But never did I meet the Boss. Since FOUR stole my researches, I lost all my clues about their Boss.
— "Any Pearl?" the barman asked me, pushing the ice in a client's drink.
— "Being able to read someone's mind through a screen isn't in my capabilities." I answer with the same pulled-up corner of my lips, watching the others from my peripheral vision.
'Shut the fuck up. Remember that guy has a Pearl.' the cap-guy cuts them, his eyes glowing an obsidian color. His cap hid some long strands of hair to his lower back— black like a shadow.
'Ah, right. Probably an easy target from the look in his eyes.' sunglasses-man— whose sunglasses hide silver eyes rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leans his weight on a leg.
The girl sat on the counter fully, her short height now matching Silver eyes now.
'Hope he isn't allergic to makeup.'
'Would he even be alive till he gets the allergies?' Sunglasses' lips moved. 'It's Kaito who've programmed the hacker thing. Y'know him, we'll find his location and steal his Pearl. Easy.'
Stealing Pearl… Stealing one is just like killing someone.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed yet again. More than usual, these times. Taking it and unlocking it, I was met with a pawn's link:
'lmao isnt that guy at the uni?'
My thumb pressed on the link, I usually don't really acknowledge those. But when you see your rival on the post, you're forced to peek.
Sora. Having a 'step on me' note. Explicit doodles on his face. Clownish makeup. On his knees with his mask crushed on the floor. And shoelaces tied? It would be boring usually— you see that everyday. However it was Sora. Him. It happened on the Ikebukuro train, line to Kawasaki. Quite hilarious.
Info noted, he lives in Kawasaki.
Now next, who did that? Sora was stunned, as it was written. A statue, unmoving and lifeless. It isn't him to play pranks. He's the kind to watch and laugh with others—to make the others think he's amused.
'You didn't forget to record in the train, right?' the girl asked suddenly.
The train… makes sense. Sora has a Pearl… means trauma. Which Pearl could it be? What kind of trauma could've triggered it? More intel for me.
The clink of the barman and waiter's glasses echoed, before they continued.
'We didn't have to record— remember?" Silver eyes says, seeming a bit annoyed.
Trying to not leak all infos to bait me huh?
The cap guy's eyes gleamed obsidian for a moment again before he pulled out his phone from his pocket, eyes widening for a slight moment.
— "He didn't fall for the trap." I could hear him faintly as he said those words.
Generous word for whatever half-assed work they came up with.
— "What do you mean by that?" the girl glanced at him with narrowed glowing eyes, on guard. A kitty.
— "That just means Kaito got outsmarted, dumbass." Grey eyes replied, a hint of annoyance tinged in his tone.
— "Panicking like a wet dog will get you nowhere, Raku."
— "Wet—" Raku started.
— "Shut it." the trumpet drew a lazy note.
The sudden laugh of someone from another table interrupted them, before the girl spoke up, her legs kicking the air childishly— ticked off.
— "Flirt somewhere else." she quipped, a warning in her glowing pink gaze—having three irises in one eye and two in the other pupil, like some bullets. "Did he get our invitation?"
— "Probably. Only way to find out is patience." cap guy answers, tanned hands in his pockets. "A certain Chizuru lacks some."
— "Hey, I take offense—"
A random waitress passed by close, offering a glass to one of them.
— "You do know he outsmarted Kaito?" Raku calls out, uncrossing his legs to take the glass and briefly looking around.
— "Nah, I thought he was cooking." the girl says, sarcasm dripping through her tone.
— "Well, he did cook." the guy comments with a sip of his drink.
— "Funny," she scoffs, sound sharp and annoyed. "Isn't his thing a created encryption or whatever? Like something no one can actually fight off?"
New intel for me. Sora outsmarted a created encryption. Takes years to counter one. Impressing. But also— more of a bait.
— "He could've just sacrificed a new laptop." the grey eyed and haired guy adds, eyes on green eyes.
— "So he didn't hesitate to sacrifice it. Which means he's hiding things." black hair retorts.
— "Either way, Kaito's gonna sulk for days." Chizuru mumbles
— "Hell I care. Ha—"
— "Say his name and I'll rip your heart out. Or you'd prefer me choking you like that Pearl dude yesterday?"
Hm? They're saying too much. They're baiting me. Someone is sending them. Their Boss? I know that they want my Pearl, for sure. But I died, I'm died to them.
— "Kinky." The brown-haired girl comments.
— "Sexy." Raku follows with.
— "Fuck you all."
Chizuru held up her hand with a mini-USB. Small. I could guess it was from Sora.
— "And so… what do we do with that?" The pixie cut girl asked.
Mhm.
If he was FOUR that could be his special codes, and I could access almost everything with those. If he's FOUR… Yeah. They're definitely baiting me.
— "Keep it, that's useful." green eyes answers, seems like the mom of the trio.
— "From where he hid it in his belt, it must be important." She tapped her hip.
— "Didn't he keep it in his jacket?" Raku corrects—too quick.
The glass to my lips, I sip. Another slip up.
Amateurs.
— "Oh, yeah. I forgot." Chizuru's eyes briefly landed on me, before looking back away.
Their bantering figures soon disappeared behind the front doors, some mumbles echoing. Not very subtle, huh. But I won some intel now.
The barman and waiter then glanced at me. The jazz slowly came to a stop, before continuing with a new melody.
— "Yuh." the waiter simply said, as I gave him a charming smirk— again, not fooled by it.
Baiting me, huh? Their Boss wants something… interesting. Well, I'll be sure to come to see you, Boss.
New mission: uncover Sora.