Tall towers cut through the skies, and car lights flow like tiny fireflies. From up here, the cityscape of Grossaint was picturesque. High above the streets below, MEI was throwing a celebratory party for the first successful operation, on a rooftop bar no less; MEI truly knows how to treat its employees.
On a small podium, on a small stage, were two drunk idiots—Kaoru and Nozomi—tightly gripping microphones, singing Don't You Want Me in broken English that was horribly out of tune. I believe the waitress was Kaoru. In front of it was a small crowd of Special Operations agents being tortured by the duo that was equal parts enthusiastic and catastrophic.
Kaoru had the mic in a chokehold, eyes squeezed shut as he belted out the lyrics from his core. Nozomi—despite his usual calm persona—swayed beside him, trying his best to harmonise but failing in spectacular fashion.
In a small outdoor lounge in the corner facing the skyline below—away from the chaos on the dance floor—was the MEI top brass, and Jen. The lounge looked like a small alcove sprinkled with fairy lights. They were chatting cordially, more like friends than colleagues, they're light conversations occasionally broke up by laughter as Tosin cracked them up.
I, on the otherhand, was in neither group. All noise was a small bubble behind me as I leaned over the side railing, taking in the Grossaint skyline. I swirled a small glass of spiced rum and Coke, Ice clinking softly, cheeks flushed from the few I've already drunk. I pulled the glass towards my mouth and wrapped my lips around the small paper straw, taking a small sip.
Small tapping of footsteps—light and deliberate—closed in from behind me.
It was Aiko, wrapped in a navy blue dress, black leather jacket slung over one shoulder. There was a formal dress code I was in my own dress, a red one. I wasn't one for dresses, but even I couldn't help it once I looked at myself in the mirror. I even switched up my hairstyle for it; I released it from the loose bun it was normally held in. It flowed in cascading curls—thanks to Aiko's help—down to my shoulders.
"Come on, Himiko."
She leaned her elbow over the railing, eying me up and down.
"You can't be brooding over here when you look that hot."
I couldn't resist huffing out a small giggle.
"I'm just taking in the view."
"Girl, the only view here is your fine ass."
I took another sip from my drink, letting the rum burn down my throat.
"Maybe."
Aiko giggled, nudging my arm. Suddenly, her face lit up.
"There's something I wanted to ask you. How are you so good with a sword? You went toe-to-toe with that crab thing, looking like a samurai warlord."
I stared out at the skyline, shuffling through my memories.
"My dad."
I said finally.
"He'd spend hours in the dojo, practising kendo. I used to sit on the mat, legs crossed, back against the wall, in awe. The way he moved, the way the bokken flew through the air, the way his feet shuffled along the mat, everything. It was like magic."
The nostalgia built up on my lips, curling the corners upwards gently.
"When I was nine, I finally built up the courage to ask. He was overjoyed when I asked. We trained 'til the sun set, in a gi that was far too big for me, hair barely tied into a bun, face rosy as I huffed and puffed."
A soft laugh escaped me.
"Mum used to get so mad when she'd see us come home in the pitch black, missing dinner, barely able to keep myself awake. But she'd always back down after seeing the smile on my face."
Aiko, very uncharacteristically, listened without interrupting.
I glanced at her.
"Your turn, sharpshooter."
"My shooting? erm..."
Aiko's lips stretched into a proud smile.
"Bullies... Middle school was rough. I was small and mouthy, the kids used to always try to tick me off—thought my reactions were funny. Eventually, I started fighting back. Always ended up in the principal's office after some fight. God. The teachers hated me. Detentions, suspensions. My dad thought enough was enough; dragged me out one Saturday to a shooting range he frequented with some drinking buddies."
"How was it?"
I asked.
"I was awful."
She exhaled sharply.
"But it felt so good. My dad continued making me go, and after a couple of weeks, my body started feeling different; it was like the gun was a part of me. Hitting bullseyes became as easy as breathing. And here we are now."
"Looks like we're both daddy's girls"
Aiko snorted.
"Speak for yourself, my dad was stopping me from ruining my own life."
We stood in silence, taking in the quiet hum of the distant city streets.
There were cheers and applause as Kaoru and Nozomi stumbled their way off the stage, thanking their fans on the way down.
Aiko straightened herself up.
"Karaoke."
I met her gaze.
"Let's show those idiots how it's really done."
Aiko grabbed me by my wrist, dragging me through the crowd, up the stairs and threw me a mic.
"No way is that, Captain Himiko?"
Kaoru called out, catching everyone's attention, causing an even greater crowd to form. I didn't realise how much pressure would be on my shoulders over a bit of fun—I was starting to regret it. But the alcohol was getting to my head, giving me the confidence to grip the mic with intent, closing my eyes to feel the lyrics from my core.
The two of us sang 4 A.M. It wasn't perfect, but Aiko's rough voice, combined with my soft and careful one, created a harmony with character. Although it probably sounded better in my head than it did in reality, the cheers of the crowd had me believing that I was born to be a singer. Kaoru and Nozomi were at the front, screaming like two fan girls; it became hard to concentrate on the lyrics on the screen.
Meanwhile, across the length of the rooftop, in the cosy corner lounge, Tosin Oladeji held court.
Tosin sat in the centre of a large sofa, leaning back, legs parted wide, arms gesticulating to emphasise every syllable. Beside him was Makoto, elbow resting on the armrest. Opposite was Josep Entenga, sipping a glass of scotch whiskey on the rocks. Jen was sitting on a lone chair, hands between her thighs, enraptured by what Tosin was saying. Surrounding them were three senior MEI department heads, who rarely smiled except for when they were around Tosin.
Tosin was mid-story, voice low, capturing everyone's full attention.
"…so there I am, nineteen years old, standing in the middle of the Angira market with a crate of yams I'd just bought for my mother. This trader—giant of a man, gold chains thicker than my wrist. Starts yelling."
He puts on a thick Okopan accent, mocking the trader.
"Ah, you think you can get awa- everybody, everybody, this boy taking me fi idiot. He thought I was short-changing him. Crowd gathers. I'm thinking, 'Tosin, you're about to get beaten in front of half the city.'"
He paused for a second.
"Then my uncle—God rest his soul—steps out from behind a stall. Six-foot-four, built like a brick shithouse. He doesn't say a word. Just picks up one of the yams, looks at the trader, and crushes it in his fist. Yam everywhere. Juice running down his arm. Silence. Absolute silence."
Jen burst out laughing.
"That's my kind of guy."
"Oh boy, the trader suddenly remembered that I gave him the right amount of change."
Makoto turned to Entenga, who was wiping his eyes.
"Pep, you're from Hispantina, aren't you? What's it like over there?"
Josep placed his tumbler down on the glass table in the middle.
"Where do I start? Sun, beautiful beaches, beautiful women."
He took his glasses off, looking nostalgic.
"One time, my father took my sister and me on a fishing trip. Clear blue seas stretched as far as the eye could see. It was so clear, you could see every single fish swimming. But we set our rods out to see who could catch the most fish. Father always won—of course—but this time was different; there was a massive tug on Maria's rod, almost pulling her in. It took a combined effort to get the bastard out of the water, and you know what we pulled out?"
He paused, replicating Tosin.
"A massive, 300 kilo Bluefin Tuna; It must have migrated over. We took it back and invited the whole street for a cookout in the street."
"Must've fed you for weeks."
Tosin said in a high-pitched voice of shock.
"You're damn right and the rest."
Pleasant stories were interchanged, Himiko and Aiko still singing with all their hearts. Jen joined the crowd watching the two sing a whole set, genre after genre, voices hoarse. Tosin and Makoto moved to the railing for a smoke.
"Himiko's squad seem to get along well. How'd you manage to get them to bond so well?"
Tosin asked, taking a puff of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke out to the cityscape. Makoto looked to Himiko, singing her heart out, arm in arm with Aiko.
"Honestly, it was all her. I put the team together and trusted Himiko to do the rest."
"The gamble paid off then?"
"Exactly."
Makoto took a puff of her own.
Aiko banged her head up and down before throwing her microphone, screamed to the crowd and leapt into it, surfing along the top, waving her arms in the air; Himiko was still singing—solo.
"She's got soul."
Tosin admitted, a gentle grin on his face.
"I can see what you saw in her. I read the reports about what she did at school. Wow. Probably saved a lot of lives."
Jen's voice could be heard in the distance.
"Aiko, dance off. You and me."
"You're on, Pink."
Aiko slurred every word—a combination of the alcohol and the high of feeling like a rockstar.
"Mr Oladeji, take a look at this."
Josep came striding over, tablet in hand.
"Pep, what's up?"
Pep showed him the tablet's screen. A satellite map, displaying a massive field, green grass with oak trees sprinkled across the backdrop. But there was a gargantuan blob that looked otherworldly.
It was colourless, a soulless white patch in the green. Massive trees hid whatever could be hidden below the lifeless shrubbery high above the ground. Vines sprawled out, and there were numerous rustlings from silhouettes that couldn't be seen clearly enough through the satellite. It was like the infected botanical garden in the Rengappon research facility—only bigger.
"It's in a field between Grossaint and Cork. We theorise that it might be similar to the school; there may be another crystal."
Tosin looked to Makoto, who had been peeking over.
"Makoto, it's your move."
She once again looked to the crowd.
Jen and Aiko were in the centre of a large circle formed by the crowd. They were split in half: team Aiko and team Jen. There was an orchestra of chants.
"Jen! Jen! Jen! Jen!"
And on the other side:
"Ai-ko! Ai-ko! Ai-ko!"
Jen pulled off a clean 720° spin before dropping to the floor with gymnastic-level splits.
Aiko countered her feet bounced and her arms flowed like water, before switching up with body pops.
"We'll give them tonight—let them have their time to celebrate. Then tomorrow, we plan."
Tosin, Pep and Makoto nodded to each other; all on the same page.
Somewhere in the distance, a field devoid of all colour stood tall above the oak trees surrounding it. Inside its walls of overgrown vines, grass and mountainous trees, waited horrors beyond human comprehension.
The calm was over.
The special operations unit would have to relive the horrors of the school all over again.