The glare of a now orange sun shone through the window as it peeked out from between skyscrapers on the San Francisco skyline. Despite being the beginning of summer, the temperature was borderline chilly outside—in the four months since I’d moved here, I had found it was always about ten degrees cooler in the city, no matter what heat wave was happening to the rest of the Bay. Luckily, I was feeling quite warm standing just inside the door of my favorite Korean restaurant, my hand firmly clasped in that of the dazzling girl waiting next to me.
She squeezed my hand tighter. “Thank you for doing this.” A strand of curly black hair came loose from where it had been tucked messily behind her ear.
“You don’t have to thank me, I’m happy to,” I said, squeezing back.
“No, I do…” Her dark brown eyes sparkled with sincerity. “You deserve all the thanks in the world for sitting through this.”
“You never know, I still might walk out.” I shot her a coy smile. “You can thank me after.”
The door next to us swung open and a woman stepped inside. Her smaller frame was concealed by a long black skirt and her white blouse was patterned with the fuchsia-colored petals of a flowering tree. Just behind her was a man, who let the door he was holding open for her close after them. Standing next to her, he seemed enormous, filling out his striped blue button-up and nearly brushing the lamp suspended from the ceiling with his combed-back hair. They were both in middle age—with gray-streaked black and light brown hair respectively.
Now that I was actually standing in front of them, my brazen composure began to weaken as the reality of the situation set in.
“Devonte, these are my parents.”
It all started off as usual, or at least, how I had always imagined meeting your significant other’s parents would go: shaking hands, exchanging so-nice-to-finally-meet-yous, getting seated and settled, then the obligatory small talk about their trip into the city, a brief digression about the choice of restaurant, and then on to debating what to order off the small, yet diverse menu. One might expect that once introductions were out of the way, the ice was broken, and food you could stuff into your mouth instead of talking had arrived, the whole thing would be a lot less anxiety-inducing—however, I found it to be quite the opposite. We had only just begun to dig in when the night began to slowly unravel. It all started with a seemingly innocent question from Ayumi’s mother.
“How is the apartment?” she asked, looking up briefly while stirring her colorful bibimbap that was still sizzling in the hot stone bowl it was served in.
Her daughter’s face brightened. “It’s really nice actually,” she babbled. “It’s in such a good location—there’s so many cute coffee shops around and it's right next to the grocery store and Muni…and the view is amazing for the price! The only downside is that it’s kind of small and we have, like, no kitchen space, but we manage.”
“No, yeah, it’s a nightmare to cook anything that requires more than one or two pans,” I added with a laugh.
Mrs. Bauer responded with a pleasant yet not particularly happy smile. “I can’t imagine sharing that small of a space with your father.”
He laughed and jabbed her lightly with his arm. “Hey, we navigated some pretty small Japanese apartments in our day too—even with a little one.” He gestured across the table at his daughter.
“We were married and starting a family. That’s much different,” his wife replied. I began to tap on my leg with my finger, matching the rhythm of my scampering heart.
Ayumi did not seem entertained, her face pitched down into a frown. “What can I say, we aren’t tired of each other yet—we haven’t been married for twenty five years.”
“No, you certainly haven’t,” her mother replied.
Ayumi’s face suddenly matched her kimchi-jjigae. “In fact, Devonte and I have never even had a fight,” she added haughtily.
Despite the aggressive tone of their daughter's words, there didn’t seem to be much of a reaction from either of her parents. Instead, both seemed more invested in their food—her mother continuing to stir her bibimbap incessantly as though looking for something inside and her father with a faint smile on his face as he shoveled another piece of fried chicken into his mouth. I continued to tap on my leg, faster now, the rhythm now resembling the hi-hats of a trap beat.
“In this area too? Seems quite expensive,” Mrs. Bauer continued, her Japanese accent poking through for just a moment. “Aren’t you from the Bay Area too, Devonte?”
“Yes ma’am, East Bay,” I replied.
“The commute was horrible though, it’s about the same time on BART as it was for me on Caltrain,” Ayumi said, pursing her lips. “That’s why we both decided to move to the city.”
“Ayumi told us you met at work.” Her father mentioned, changing the subject. “Are you also an agent?”
I nodded. “Yup, we met during orientation.”
“You must be quite skilled, I heard it’s very competitive to get into,” Ayumi’s mother said. Her words were at odds with the way one might imagine someone to deliver a compliment, as she simply made the statement without showing any other kind of emotion.
I laughed casually, trying to ignore the weirdness and channel my most endearing of appearances. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t completely bomb the interview, but my dad also wrote me a referral…my parents both used to work there—it’s how they met actually.” Mrs. Bauer’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth. She cocked an eyebrow at me, clearly very surprised by this information.
“Are they powered too?” Mr. Bauer asked.
“Yeah, both of them. My sisters are both powerless, but I just got lucky I guess.”
My response caused Mrs. Bauer to make an acknowledging grunt, before she finished sliding the spoonful of bibimbap into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. “You said they used to work there…are they retired now?”
“My dad is, finally. He was threatening to pull the plug on it for, like, five years, but he finally did it last year.” I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat. “My mom quit a long time ago, she’s an accountant now.”
Mrs. Bauer seemed to sit up slightly in her chair at my response. “What made her want to switch?”
My stomach dropped. “It’s kind of a complicated story…my parents are actually divorced.” It always felt weird talking about what had happened, but it was also the reality of my family. Ayumi glanced at me. I shot her a reassuring smile before continuing. “My mom studied accounting in college, so it was kind of her going back to that path. She quit the Agency originally because…part of it was that my sisters were still young, so she wanted something more flexible so she could be home more. But she also got a big promotion and that really changed the dynamic in our house. After my dad pushed for a divorce, I think the whole place left kind of a bad taste in her mouth.”
Mrs. Bauer’s eyes scanned my face as if, upon hearing this new information, she was now seeing me completely—or finally finding that I fit in some box she had constructed for me long ago.
“Let’s talk about something other than work,” Ayumi interjected.
Her mother blinked and suddenly whatever I had seen before was gone. “Actually, I had another question about the Agency,” she said. “I wanted to hear more about what exactly you do there. All I’ve heard is that you go on a lot of ‘ops.’” A small wave of relief washed over me. We had switched to a topic I was more comfortable with, if only because I already spent forty hours every week thinking about it. I felt Ayumi’s hand touch down softly, yet firmly on my leg under the table.
“Well, a lot of it is confidential so I can’t give you any specifics,” I said, laughing nonchalantly, “but on my team we do everything from gathering intelligence to thwarting corporate espionage to private security gigs.”
“And you work for the government?” Ayumi’s mother asked.
“It depends. We contract with a lot of different people, but the Agency itself is privately owned. Back in my parents' day, it was a lot of government contracts, but so far it’s been almost entirely private industry for us. I’m guessing that the increased visibility of powered people these days means we have less of a monopoly on this kind of work.”
Ayumi’s mother nodded. “Powered people are in the news all the time now, and not usually for good reason…it seems quite dangerous to be out there…” She trailed off, scooping another bite of rice out of her bowl. Ayumi dug her fingers into my leg.
I got her message loud and clear and pivoted. “To be honest, the day to day is mostly just paperwork and prep. We only actually go on an op like once a month…and even then there’s always a more experienced agent there with us.” I winced as she jabbed me under the table again. I was now thoroughly confused as to what she was trying to tell me.
Despite nodding her head, Mrs. Bauer’s eyes were glazed over, as if she were focusing on something far more interesting behind my head. “There are people out there that would treat you differently—even put a target on your head—if they knew what you could do. It seems unwise to be so visible...and for what? The interests of some company?” I could feel my face becoming warm. Our jobs didn’t sound so noble when she put it like that.
“It sounds like the Agency has existed for a long time. I’m sure they know what they’re doing and how to do it safely,” Ayumi’s father added.
“Yes, but things are changing,” Mrs. Bauer picked up her napkin and tenderly dabbed at her mouth. “Powered people are still new to the general public. America isn’t exactly known for being welcoming to those that are different—especially those that can be seen as threats.” Even though I’m not sure I agreed with whatever she was trying to say, I couldn’t help but snort to myself. She has a point there.
I nearly jumped as a firecracker went off in the seat next to me. “You act like we’re going out there and showing off our powers for the fun of it,” Ayumi snapped. “These are our jobs…and they’re too dangerous for normal people. We’re protecting them and everyone else by doing them.”
The table went silent. I suddenly felt like I was eavesdropping on a conversation that I was not supposed to be present for—except I was, as it was happening in the middle of a crowded restaurant at prime dinnertime. A trap beat started up against my leg again.
Mrs. Bauer remained unphased and replied calmly to her daughter. “Sometimes you have to do not just what’s best for you, but for the people around you as well.”
“I am, I’m just not doing what's best for you,” Ayumi retorted, her voice continuing to raise in volume. My chest began to feel heavy with the weight of the conversation, as if I was in control of this train wreck or supposed to be mediating between them. I looked across the table at Ayumi’s dad for help, but he seemed just as resigned to guiltily watching this timebomb tick to zero as I was.
Her mother sighed. “Ayumi, we’re just trying to have an adult conversation. There’s no need to get emotional.”
My breath caught in my throat. I glanced at Ayumi. She was glaring at her mother, a fury in her narrowed eyes, but her mouth clamped firmly shut. For a moment I thought we had survived, and that the situation might have a chance of returning to just being awkward. Then her lips opened, and the restaurant was filled with her booming voice. “You’re fucking unbelievable!”
The air was immediately sucked out of the room. My girlfriend’s parents seemed to freeze in time, motionlessly staring at their daughter, as if I was the only person truly conscious at the table—and I was conscious of everything. Ayumi’s flushed face and the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Her father’s clenched jaw and empathetic eyes. Her mother’s passive stare and disappointed posture. The lingering stares of eyeballs from all around us. I wished I could just dissolve into my seat right then and there.
Mrs. Bauer was the first to move. She just shook her head and returned to pick at what was left of her food. Thankfully by that point we were nearly done with the meal, and after returning to the surface level nice-to-meet-yous and get-home-safes, it was out into the cool relief of freedom, the restaurant having become swelteringly warm.
Ayumi and I walked silently down the street back towards our apartment. I would’ve reached for her hand, but her arms were crossed under her jacket, so I resigned to burying mine in my pockets. We had traveled nearly a block when I finally mustered the courage to say something.
“I thought that went pretty well.”
“Yeah, she seemed to like you just fine.” The snappy tone of her voice made my stomach plummet.
“Why are you saying it like that then?”
She shook her head. “I just don’t understand you.”
“What?” I was getting more confused by the second. “I think I’m the one not understanding right now...”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“I am on your side. Always.”
She stopped in her tracks to stare at me, her eyes narrowed. “Then why didn’t you back me up? Where’s all your big speeches about it being my choice how to use my powers?”
“I—I just figured it would be better not to rock the boat when I’m meeting your parents for the first time.”
“So you’re just going to let her humiliate me and tear down what we’re doing with our lives?”
“I didn’t—I was just trying to make a good impression.”
“I warned you she would try to do this.” She turned away from me, but I could see her features pitched down in a frown. “But you always just want to make things easier for yourself, don’t you?”
“What?” I said. My mind was racing trying to keep up with a conversation that seemed to be spiraling out of control by the second. “That’s not what I’m trying to do at all.”
“Our anniversary. You were going to take us out to that fancy fusion place.”
My heart sank. “I told you, I messed up. I waited until way too late, the next reservation they had was for a month from now.”
“It wasn’t about the restaurant Devonte, I just wanted to have a nice dinner with you…get dressed up, go out. We never get the chance to do that anymore, you’re always at the gym on Friday night.”
A wave of heat washed over me and I instinctively began to get defensive. “I’ve been doing that since before we moved in together. It’s always less busy so I can get in and out quicker. Also, I skipped last week so we could go to your team event.”
“But you could be going on Saturday or Sunday morning before I’m even up. Why am I always the one that has to make sacrifices?” Her accusation sent a shiver down my back. I didn’t realize I was doing so much wrong. Since when did she feel like this? I felt like I was a child who never learned to swim, floundering in the deep end of a public pool after being thrown in headfirst.
“I thought we were talking about your mother...” I said, trying to get the conversation back on track.
She shook her head. “At the very least, you could’ve gotten me flowers…”
“I thought you said that it was fine because you would probably just kill them anyway.”
“It doesn’t mean I didn’t want to try!” she said, turning back towards me. Her now teary eyes glinted in the streetlights. “I just can’t take it anymore—you obviously don’t care about me nearly as much as you say you do.”
It felt like I was blown backward by the sheer volume of her voice, my soul pushed out of my body and sent rocketing into the past until it snapped into place in a specific moment from many years ago. I was sitting at the kitchen table of my childhood home, drenched in the same heavy feeling as I was now. The same confusion. The same guilt. I didn’t recognize the person in front of me. His face was the warm one that had smiled so widely at me for as long as I could remember. His voice was the one that made me laugh, and whose advice had guided me through life and got me to this point. The same voice that had taught me that “as a man, your job is to protect your family.” How is breaking them apart protecting the family? It didn’t make any sense. I was staring at someone I loved. Someone I knew. Or at least someone I thought I did.
I blinked and my vision was filled once again with my girlfriend’s curly black hair and flushed cheeks—someone else I loved. Someone I couldn’t lose.
“Ayumi, I’m sorry,” I said. “I care about you so much—I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you. You know that I fully support you using your powers however you want to. And I’ll look into going to the gym on the weekends so that we can have more date nights, and I’ll get a fancy dinner scheduled for us ASAP.” The intense accusatory gaze had left her eyes, but her thin eyebrows were still furrowed and her lips pursed, so I continued on. “I am in awe of you every single day, and if my actions aren’t expressing that, then I’m sorry—I’ll do better.” Her expression had finally softened and I braved a small smile. “And I’ll get you flowers.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” My heart skipped a beat. Is it?
She turned silently and continued down the street in the direction of our apartment, not waiting to see if I was following or not.
“Let’s go.”
I blinked. A shiver ran down my back as I was thrust back into reality—the street lamps replaced by the warm light bulbs of a fancy bathroom. My ex stood in front of me holding the door open just enough to let the ambiance of the gala waft in. “We don't want to be here if she comes back looking for us.”
I blinked again, my mind still catching up with my surroundings. I don’t know what had come over me, reminiscing like that—and to that specific memory. I couldn’t shake the chill down my spine, nor the growing feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had made a terrible mistake. Nevertheless, I followed Ayumi as she stepped out of the bathroom, paused for a moment at the corner of the wall to cautiously peer both ways, then headed in the opposite direction from where we came.
I matched her pace as we moved briskly through the corridors. She led us back into the main hall and up one of the grand staircases that twisted up to the second level of the room.
We walked in silence, but a feeling in my gut told me I was the one who needed to say something next. “That was smooth…with the feathers.” I immediately bit my tongue. What am I saying? I’m getting way too comfortable.
“Thanks.” Her mouth curled into a small smile again. “Nice job identifying a POI.”
“Were you following me?”
“Possibly.” She glanced over the railing as we reached the top of the stairs. “What can I say, you were always better at picking people out of a crowd.”
“L4 casing abilities at work,” I quipped.
She scowled at me and puckered her lips. “I still identified a target, just…in my own way.”
We weaved through the tall circular tables draped in black cloths that dotted the second floor towards the main exit that lay directly across from the balcony. At the first intersection, she peered around the corner down the corridor, before taking a left. We had definitely put enough distance between us and Elizabeth by now and I was a bit confused on where exactly we were going, so I asked her.
“Here,” she said, stopping suddenly in the middle of the hallway. To our right was an unmarked door with a keycard reader. I glanced both ways. There were a few guests walking in both directions, but most were engrossed in conversation and not paying too much attention to their surroundings. My ex reached into the top of her dress, pulling out an ID card with a long black lanyard in tow. She held it up to the card reader. The light glowed green and she swung the door open, gesturing for me to enter.
She shut the door behind us and flicked the light on, illuminating the surprisingly spacious janitor's closet. Along two of the walls were metal shelves, one filled with every cleaning supply imaginable, the other cramped with boxes, each with a small minimalist graphics indicating the contents—paper towels, toilet paper, tampons. In the middle of the room was a stubby card table with two metal chairs.
I took the opportunity to unbutton my jacket, my hands then naturally finding their way to rest on my hips. “So, what did you lift from her pocket?”
I watched as she reached into the top of her dress again, this time producing a white, oblong-shaped package. It bulged in the center, with edges that came together on opposite ends and faded brown shapes that resembled a seven-pointed leaf dotting its opaque exterior. It had a slight sheen that glinted when it caught the light and the front was covered in the elegant scrawling of a foreign language.
“Japanese?” I asked.
“Yeah, hiragana,” she said absentmindedly as she stared intently at the package. “Give me a second, I’m trying to read it…” Her eyes skittered over the characters, her eyebrows tenting together. “Momiji manju…I’ve heard of a manju before, but I don’t think that’s what this is. It’s too hard and not the right shape.”
“What’s a mon-ju?” I asked, puckering my lips trying to imitate her pronunciation.
“Um…I’m not sure what to compare it to. It’s like…a small cake with a sweet bean paste inside. My grandmother brought them for us when she visited the U.S.”
I pointed to the only English writing on the package. “Red bean,” I said, reading it aloud. “Was it something she brought because you couldn’t get it here?” The pieces suddenly clicked together in my head. “Like a local specialty you might bring to a diplomatic meeting in another country?”
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Her arms fell to her sides, as if even holding them in the air was no longer worth the effort.
“Should we at least try it?” I asked, searching for a silver lining.
“Do you really have food on your mind right now?”
“I didn’t eat dinner,” I shot back. “We’re at one of the most prestigious galas in the world—you think I wasn’t gonna stuff myself with the fancy-ass catering?” She scoffed and shook her head. The thought of her judging my priorities sent a wave of embarrassment washing over me. “You know, maybe if you weren’t following me, one of us might be out there finding the real weapon right now.”
She ignored me, her attention now focused on the package again. She grabbed it by the edge, placing her fingers on either side of a small notch, and slowly tore it open. Through the crack I could see the glint of something silver. She pulled the wrapping away to reveal a metallic rectangular brick with rounded edges. The revelation of the package’s contents caused my defensiveness to quickly dissipate. The object looked to be just over a quarter inch thick and was almost the length of her palm.
“That doesn’t look like a cake to me,” I said.
She turned it over in her hand, revealing a cream colored business card attached to the other side. “I think it’s a device of some kind.” She peeled off the card and handed me the brick. “Can you open it?”
I took it from her and inspected it myself. It was smooth all over, with no breaks in its murky silver exterior except for a small gray ring on one side that looked like an unpowered light and a few engraved letters at the bottom of the opposite side. Kiki. Almost certainly electronic then. I closed my eyes, turning the device over in my hand. Unlike the electronic lock from earlier or the fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling above us, I felt no immediate hum running through it. I took a deep breath and held my hand as still as I could, focusing on tuning out everything but the brick’s cool surface. The tiniest prickle danced across my palm.
“It’s electronic, but I can barely feel it. It must be super insulated,” I handed it back to her. “How are we supposed to know if this is it?” She pointed it at me and flicked her wrist. I instinctively jumped backward and raised my arms to cover my face. “What the—!? What the hell are you doing?” She let out a bubbly cackle. “What if that had actually worked and you just fucking—I don’t know—vaporized me?”
“What can I say—I would have found the weapon.”
“I see how it is,” I scoffed, my face growing warm.
Her voice fell. “I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to do anything.”
“And I’m pretty sure that was an unnecessary risk.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I’m allowed to have exactly zero fun tonight.”
“I’m glad having fun is on your mind right now,” I said, the comeback slipping deliciously off my tongue.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, okay?” she said, flashing me a glare that weakened almost immediately. My heart plummeted into my stomach. What did she mean by that? She didn’t elaborate any further, her eyes once again glued to the device and a displeased look on her face.
“What about the card?” I asked, trying to redirect the conversation back to the mission. “Did it say anything on it? Instructions or something?”
“Not much.” She flipped the card over to reveal two large intricate characters.
黒夢
“I don’t know how it’s pronounced or what it means together, but I think that’s fruit.” She pointed to the first character. “And then…dream.”
“Fruit dream…that’s gotta be up there for the most tasteless superweapon name of all time.”
“I’m not staking my life on that translation—I’m pretty sure I have the kanji comprehension of like…an elementary schooler.”
“And there’s nothing on the back?”
“Just a time.” She flipped the card over, revealing a single line of small black text that read “21:00.” “Presumably this is an invitation to Tsuyosugi's meeting at that time.”
I gave her a puzzled look. “Tsuyosugi's meeting?”
“There’s a thirty-minute hole in Tsuyosugi’s schedule for the night that starts at that time.” I raised an eyebrow at her, still unclear on where she got this information. “What do you think I was doing while you were checking yourself out in the mirror gallery?” Another wave of embarrassment washed over me. How did she know about that?
“I was disabling the security system,” I interjected, “that just happened to be the easiest entrance.”
“And I’m sure you hated every second of being in there, appreciating your fancy tux from every angle.” My tongue twisted on itself as I stammered something unintelligible in response, my face growing warm. “I’m messing with you,” she said, smiling coyly. “You look good.”
I shook my head at her in disapproval. “You’re not allowed to do that.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Do what?” I watched as her smile slowly spread across her entire face, her cheeks becoming large and round and her coffee brown eyes sparkling in the light.
“Smile.”
It broadened into the most beautiful grin I had ever seen in my life. “And why is that?” she asked playfully.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “I’m not answering that question.”
“Oh, come on,” she pouted.
I continued to stare into her eyes, unable to look away. Chemicals slowly began seeping into my brain, my neurons going haywire—like I was an addict relapsing after being clean for months: guilty, but also euphoric. I stumbled forward into her eyes, as I had so many times before, but despite the smile on her face, something felt different. Instead of diving headfirst into their endless depths, I was now barely wading in them. I couldn’t explain why, but my heart plummeted into my stomach again.
“Do you know how many of these they handed out?” I was jolted out of my trance by her raising the silver brick into my peripheral vision. Her focus didn’t seem to have wavered—clearly she wasn’t feeling whatever it was I had just experienced.
“I only saw two people get them, but that was in the first few minutes after the event started.”
“Then we could easily be dealing with a hundred by now.”
I frowned. “The invitation is so cryptic, and in Japanese—the people who received them must already know where to go…” I trailed off as the gears in my brain turned slowly but surely. “They had to have been on some kind of list and notified beforehand. You don’t also happen to have a list of every single person here tonight and whether or not they’re tight with the big guy, do you?”
“No,” she replied. “But we do know when they’re all going to be in one place.” She held up the card again.
“But we don’t know where that meeting is going to be.”
“Actually…” She trailed off. Her eyes fluttered shut and her brow furrowed. She placed the device on the table and her hands began to drift in mid air, as if she were feeling around a giant invisible doll house. “I need to map this out visually.” She opened her eyes and reached into the top of her dress again, producing a small black thumbstick. “You have your watch, right?”
“Yeah.” I pulled back my sleeve to reveal the device’s rectangular screen. I unfastened it and handed it to her.
“I made a copy of the schematics for these two floors while I was looking for the security schedule earlier,” she said, flipping the watch around and inserting the drive into a small port on the back. She placed it face down in the center of the table. Tiny blue lights flickered out of small holes on either side. They glowed brighter and brighter until light began to spill over the whole table. It came into focus, forming solid blue lines and shapes that lifted off the surface and folded like paper into the two-story layout of the venue.
“So we’re on the same page, let me recap what I learned about the security layout.” She reached out towards the glowing model, pinching her fingers and pulling the two floors apart until they were side by side on the table. “There’s three different sets of security. One is the event staff, who are stationed around the venue—the people wearing black suits—I imagine you’ve seen them already.” I nodded. “They rotate stations counter-clockwise every thirty minutes, starting by the staff break room.” She pointed out a room on the first floor.
“Second is the security guards. They’re stationed at all the exterior entrances with body armor and firearms. They’re contracted from Patriot, so expect them to have heavy firepower. In the event of an emergency, the security guards are expected to enter the building to assist. They’ll come from all the emergency exits and converge on the main room. The most important people—which includes our special guest—will be ushered into the back rooms immediately, from which they’ll take a private stairwell that leads to the parking garage on the fifth floor.” She dragged her finger along the long exterior hallway towards a staircase at the corner of the building.
“In addition to all of that, those important guests were also allowed to request extra badges for their staff or personal security details—Tsuyosugi was listed as needing ten.”
“Four have been following him around the venue all night,” I said, recalling his entourage of suited men from earlier. “So…that’s six unaccounted for that could be securing the location of his meeting.”
“My thoughts exactly. I remember seeing something odd in the numbers earlier—every wing in the venue has four event staff stationed there, except two of them: Wing C and Wing F, which both only have three for some reason.” She pointed to two large rectangles on the map, one on the first floor and one on the second. “If I remember correctly, they put two in the gallery, and one on the outside in the hallway.” She reached down and began tapping at places on the map, small red figures appearing in each spot. “That means there’s a room in each one of these wings that's completely unsecured.” She pointed at two rooms whose doors led into a hallway with no figures nearby. “That seems like an obvious oversight in the layout, unless these rooms are being secured by the guests' personal staff.”
“So we split up, stake out each wing before the showing, and determine which room the guests are showing up to?”
She nodded. “You take F, I’ll watch C. Once we’ve determined where the meeting is taking place, we regroup and enter together using the invitation. You should also memorize the path to the nearest exit from each wing in case we need to make a quick escape.”
“Right,” I said, tracing possible routes with my eyes.
“The important thing is to not draw any attention to ourselves and avoid anybody who might recognize us until we can get inside. Speaking of which, you have a second outfit right?”
My eyes shot up from the map to meet hers. Without a second thought, I swung my arms behind me, letting the jacket fall off my shoulders. I twisted it inside out and slid my arms back inside its now shiny blue exterior, a smile creeping across my face as I was once again reunited with this beauty of a jacket.
I looked up to see her staring at me, her eyes examining me head to toe. “They really went all out for this,” she said. “You’re having the night of your life, aren’t you?” My heart glowed in my chest.
“I’m glad someone got to appreciate it.” A wave of regret instantly washed over me, but it was too late, my words had already escaped my mouth and vanished into the air between us. It was true though, I was glad someone else got to appreciate this outfit I might never get to wear again…even if it was someone whose opinion I wasn’t supposed to care about anymore.
“Alright, your turn. Let’s see it,” I said, gesturing to her. As soon as she began to move, my heart skipped a beat. The thought of her having something even remotely as nice as my outfit hiding underneath her dress made my stomach churn again—she already looked gorgeous.
She reached up and began tying her hair up in a bun, a few strands springing free to fall on either side of her face. “I just gave them a few ideas…I’m not even sure what the final thing looks like.” She fiddled with the pendant on her necklace nervously. She pinched it between her thumb and index finger, and it gave off an audible click. Suddenly the entire top half of her dress slipped downward, revealing a dark mass underneath. I nearly jumped backwards as layers of maroon feathers burst outward after being restrained under the fabric. They swooped across her chest and reached down to the end of her ribcage, almost like a bird was wrapping its wings around her from behind.
“Wow…” I was speechless for a moment. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with each feather having a slightly different coloration as though they had been plucked from an actual maroon-feathered bird. I couldn’t stop staring at it—or her. “I almost wish I had asked for a dress now, although I don’t think I’d pull it off nearly as well.”
She blushed, turning away. “I guess we’ll never know…” Before I could say anything else, her head snapped back towards me, her eyes becoming alert. She held a finger up to her mouth, signaling me to be quiet. A faint clanking noise was audible through the wall—a cart rolling down the hallway—followed by the shuffling of someone just outside the door. Our eyes met and we conversed without speaking, coming to a silent agreement. Without breaking eye contact, we both began to move. I reached down and scooped my watch up off the table while she slipped the silver device back into the top of her dress. She approached me and slid up against my now outstretched hand, which instinctively found its way to her hip. She wrapped her arms around me, one hand resting in the middle of my back and the other caressing the back of my head. I pulled her close to me, our bodies making contact in multiple places which sent tingles shooting up through every nerve in my body. I hadn’t noticed just how much height her heels added until now, as her sparkling eyes were only inches from my own. My nose filled with the familiar scent of her perfume—indeterminately both fruity and floral, but with the freshness of a synthetic ocean spray.
Despite my desire to have nothing to do with her, for reasons I could not explain, I felt unable to move at that moment. It all just felt so natural, my brain having acted on autopilot to get me to this point, and now all I could do was hold my breath—as if simply by breathing the same air as her I would somehow lose control of myself. Her face slowly drifted closer and I tunnel visioned on her lips, which were inching dangerously close to mine. Is she moving closer to me? Or am I the one moving? How far are we going to go with this?
Thankfully, the sound of the door creaking open behind us gave me a chance to break free. I glanced back, putting on my most panicked expression, to see a man wearing a royal blue apron over a black collared shirt and pants.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice a mixture of surprise and concern.
“Sorry, sorry!” Ayumi’s apologies were deafening, her mouth still inches from my ear. I immediately released my grip on her and took a step to the side, taking a moment to frantically rebutton my jacket. “The door was open so we thought it would be okay if we slipped in here for a second…” she continued, bowing her head sheepishly and slowly beginning to inch towards the door. The man held it open for us and we slipped out into the hallway.
“Sorry,” Ayumi repeated one last time as he shut the door in our faces. We glanced at each other. I was finally able to breathe again, but my stomach was in knots. What just happened? I’m supposed to be over this. Over her. A lump had begun to form in my throat—not because anything had felt wrong, but because it hadn’t.
We stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything. I wondered what was going on in her head. Is this all just playing a character to her? Her silence told me I must be wrong, but she was also the one to eventually break it. “Stay on comms. How much time until the meeting?”
The reminder that I was still technically at work at that moment snapped me out of my mental spiral and sent another wave of embarrassment washing over me. I tapped on my watch face and the screen blinked to life.
20:45.
“Fifteen minutes.”
“We need to get moving then. See you in a bit.”
I nodded, swallowed the lump in my throat, then headed in the opposite direction.
A sign overhead marked my arrival to Wing F. The set of double doors Ayumi had marked on the map lay at the intersection of two hallways, with galleries to the right and left. Standing just to the side of the off-white doors was an Asian man dressed in a black suit with a translucent wire that curled from over his ear into the collar of his shirt. I approached as nonchalantly as possible, using my peripheral vision to get a closer look. I didn’t see any kind of signage around it, even glancing to check behind the guard’s back as I took a sharp left into the entrance of the gallery I had been circling around. I moved through the room filled with various modern art pieces towards the far wall, where my angle with the gallery entrance gave me a clear view of the doors, and perched myself next to a massive tapestry made of hundreds of different 2000s pop culture fabrics.
“I’m in position.” The hum of Ayumi’s hushed voice reverberated pleasantly through my skull. “There are two guards posted here and the doors are marked as a ballroom. I haven’t seen anyone come in or out though yet…anything on your end?”
The guard was practically a statue, still standing in the exact same position as he had been since I had started watching him. “Just the world’s most stoic guard over here. The door is unmarked from what I can tell.”
“Keep a lookout—people should start showing up soon.”
I crossed my arms and put my foot up against the wall. The room was nearly empty, only a singular couple milled around in the opposite corner of the gallery next to a giant red cube. The mystery of what complex and philosophical meaning it could possibly have to be placed in a museum like this provided me with an ounce of stimulation while I waited for any kind of action to occur at the entrance. However, my contemplations were soon interrupted by the sound of Ayumi’s voice. “So, how have you been?”
I stifled a chuckle. “Are we really doing this?”
“Do you have something better to do?”
I stared blankly at the giant red cube. My curiosity was certainly piqued at the idea of learning what she had been up to for the past three months, but at the same time a pit of dread was opening in the bottom of my stomach at the thought of everything that could have happened. Nevertheless, I ignored the feeling and entertained her question. “…I’ve been good. Mostly been busy with apartment hunting, but it’s been slow with work and everything.”
“Are you still living at home?”
“Yeah, my dad keeps trying to get me to come stay with him in the city though. What about you?”
“I’ve been surviving. Still living in the apartment, trying to explore more of the city…” She trailed off, leaving a lull in the conversation.
A question popped into my head that instantly sent a chill down my spine. “How’s L4 been?”
“Pretty much the same honestly. I’m just expected to have more independence when planning ops, but it’s not like there’s more work to do…and Lily still has the final say on everything anyways.”
“That’s cool, I’m glad it’s not totally overwhelming,” I said before falling silent.
There was another lull before she spoke again. “...I do think you’re ready,” she said softly. “Especially if we finish this mission. I don’t know what could look better on a promo packet than successfully executing a black op.”
“It’s whatever—it’s not like I’m not paid excessively well already.” My dismissiveness shut her up, leaving us in an awkward silence. Against my better judgement, I was once again compelled to ask a question I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer to. I swallowed, then let it fly. “You been seeing other people?”
There was no response. My heart sank. Then her voice came through clearly. “You’ve really forgotten who I was before I met you.” I would never have admitted it, but a cool wave of relief washed over me. I relaxed against the wall, the tension in my shoulders I wasn’t even consciously aware of before releasing a bit. “...have you?” her voice inquired hesitantly from the other side of the line.
I was hit with the sudden urge to lie, but quickly brushed it away. “No…”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw two men approach the doors and begin to talk with the guard, one of them producing a familiar silver brick from the interior of his jacket. They chatted for a moment more, then the guard reached over to open the door and the men slipped inside. He closed it behind them before returning to his post.
“Two people just entered my door with a device like ours,” I whispered, “this must be it.”
“I’m on my way.”
I watched as another couple approached, also flashing the man a device before he opened the door and they disappeared inside. The door drifted lazily shut behind them until it suddenly stopped and reversed direction, swinging outward. A man and woman walked out, deep in conversation about something. Though I couldn’t place their faces off the top of my head, and in a split second they had walked out of my view, I knew immediately that I recognized them.
“Wait.” I hopped off the wall and walked quickly to the other side of the gallery to get a better look.
“What?” Ayumi’s voice buzzed with concern.
I peered out the other entrance as the pair walked past. The woman was wearing a dress with thick straps that framed her toned beige arms. The man’s glinting gray military cut matched his well tailored gray tuxedo accented with a sharp cerulean tie. As they passed, his crisp voice came within earshot. “This is the kind of thing we do best. I don’t understand why he can’t leave it to us. Talking in person was supposed to make communication easier, but I don’t feel like he understood a word I said.” He shook his head. “This bet is turning into more and more of a debt every day.”
The woman’s dark auburn hair lined her face full of makeup that almost concealed the small wrinkles that appeared as she spoke. “We take care of what we can control—that’s all we can do.”
It took me a second, but I finally recognized who they were. I had seen many pictures of them at the Agency, but only had the privilege of breathing the same air as them once—back during orientation day. If I wasn’t so confused or if I had interacted with them beyond posing with ten people between us for a class photo, I may have stopped them, but instead I watched silently as they continued down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“Did we know that Ashley and Jeff were going to be here tonight? I could’ve sworn I just saw them leaving the room.”
“Like directors Ashley and Jeff? I mean, it's not surprising, they’re heads of a powered agency.”
“You are not mistaken.” The sound of Jason’s voice startled me as he chimed in after being silent for the past hour. I had almost forgotten he could hear everything we were saying. “Both of them are in attendance tonight and will be meeting with lots of different heroes and companies for networking purposes. Their presence is irrelevant. If you believe you’ve found the right room, you need to make a move—you’ve got five minutes until the meeting starts.”
“I just reached the second floor, get ready to go in,” Ayumi confirmed, her breathing heavier now and the faint wail of wind noise in the background.
I watched as another group of people entered the room. Then a moment later, another pair walked up, producing a device of their own before being ushered inside. I checked my watch. Three minutes to 21:00. She sure was taking her ti—
My shoulder jerked backwards violently as I was grabbed from behind and pulled deeper into the gallery. I whipped around to find myself face to face with my ex. She put her finger over her lips, then pointed behind me. A familiar redhead in a cream pantsuit shuffled down the hallway towards the entrance of the private room. Ayumi pulled me around the corner of one of the displays, motioning for me to wait, then peeking her head around the corner.
“Don’t you know who I am?” I could hear Elizabeth’s aggravated tone echoing from outside the gallery.
The man’s meek voice was barely audible in comparison. “I’m sorry…without…I cannot let you enter.” His tone was impressively polite despite the death stare I imagined he must be receiving at the moment.
“I’m going to find somebody to talk to, and when I do, you’re going to regret this!” The clacking of her heels against the floor reverberated down the hallway as she stomped off.
I glanced at my watch again. 20:59. “One minute—we gotta go.”
Ayumi beckoned with her hand. “Follow me.” She rounded the display and walked briskly out the gallery exit towards the doors. The poor guard still looked frazzled from the interaction a moment ago, but he donned a serious look as we approached and stopped in front of him. I glanced down the hallway to our left but thankfully there was no sign of Elizabeth.
Ayumi took the lead, speaking to the man. “Hi, we’re here for…” She trailed off, reaching into the feathered neckline of her dress and producing the silver device. I held my breath as we waited for the man’s response. His eyes drifted slowly up to the device, and upon seeing it, his face morphed into a pleasant smile.
“Welcome,” he said, pulling the door open for us. “Please find a space around the display.”
We entered the dimly lit room, the column of light that shone in from the hallway extinguishing as the door swung shut behind us. My eyes were immediately drawn to the left half of the room, as it held the only remaining source of light: a large cube-shaped structure with a metal frame, glass walls, and a white illuminated ceiling. To the left of it were a set of eggplant-colored curtains covering what I assumed must be a passageway to another room. In front of the cube the other guests had formed a half circle, huddling together in small groups of two to three and talking quietly amongst themselves. Given the setting, I half expected the curtains to part and for some cookie-cutter indie pop band to walk out to start shooting a music video.
We moved towards the other side of the room, finding a spot on the far side of the group. As my eyes adjusted fully to the darkness, I began to notice that this room was significantly less polished compared to the other galleries. The walls were uneven and some unpainted, exposing the rough concrete underneath. Cardboard boxes and wooden crates of all shapes and sizes were strewn haphazardly around the outsides of the room, many open and empty. I also took note of the shadowy forms of four guards looming in each corner of the room.
My attention snapped to the front of the room as the curtains parted, revealing a gaping hole into the darkness beyond. Slowly, the lumbering figure of a giant man in a shiny green kimono emerged from the black—Tsuyosugi. He stepped into the glow of the cube, followed closely by the man I recognized as his translator from the opening ceremony. His face was twisted into a stern expression, but as his eyes drifted around the room, it morphed into a giant smile.
“ようこそ、皆様,” he said, opening his arms widely, as if inviting the crowd into a giant hug with his ten foot wingspan. He continued in Japanese, speaking for a moment before his translator took over. “I’m glad our invitations found you well. I apologize for the secrecy and extra precautions, but we’ve had some leaks in the past few months. I want to thank you for your trust in attending tonight on nothing more than my good word.” Tsuyosugi paused and bowed deeply to the group before continuing.
“In a night all about change, I would like to bring to your minds to something I think has become far too underappreciated in the collective consciousness recently: stability. Since the dawn of time, humans have strived and fought for stability. It’s what we’ve built our societies in the pursuit of—why we formed governments, built infrastructure, and created laws. But stability is a product of the way our world works as it currently is. A product of everyone accepting what has been given to them and making the best of it. When someone tries to challenge that, only terrible things follow. War. Economic depression. Civil unrest.” After the translator finished speaking Tsuyosugi stepped forward, walking slowly around the circle while continuing to monologue in Japanese. When he had finished, the translator hummed back to life.
“What was for most of recorded history simply a myth or a once in a generation phenomenon is now being documented by every person with a smartphone camera and social media account. We’re being flooded by an increasing number of people who demand to be made important, simply because they were born with a gift. It’s only a matter of time before a new, uneven hierarchy of power emerges—one where power is no longer about hard work and intelligence, but about luck—and with it, an inherent instability.”
Tsuyosugi stopped to stand at the front of the circle again. “Some of you may be familiar with bits and pieces of what I’ve faced the past ten years, but I doubt any person in this room hasn’t experienced the difficulty of keeping up in a rapidly changing landscape. However, I promise you that struggle will be a thing of the past very soon.”
Tsuyosugi reached into the folds of his kimono and produced a familiar silver brick. “I would like to introduce you to our Miyaku. In seeking to recreate my accident, we failed to produce a solution that could make a normal person into someone like me, but instead found something unexpected—a different cure to this ailment.” He placed the device in his right hand, resting his thumb on the gray circle that broke the metallic exterior. A green light illuminated and with a metallic click, the top right corner of the device retracted inward and a translucent tube emerged. “With one puff of this aerosol, any person with existing abilities will have their strength increase exponentially.” His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light. “I trust you will enjoy the samples we distributed for your personal evaluation, but I thought it only natural that you see firsthand what the potential is.”
As if on cue, two men in suits emerged from behind the curtain, dragging with them a man with a gray sack over his head and his hands tied behind his back. “Inevitably when one makes a discovery like this, others will try to stand in the way—or steal it for themselves,” Tsuyosugi continued. The guards moved in the direction of the cube, one of them removing his hand from the prisoner to pull open the door built into the back wall. They dragged the man inside and forced him onto his knees in the center of the floor. “I learned my lesson quickly, however, and have made no exceptions in ensuring this power remains only in the right hands—hence the secure device coded to your unique fingerprint.”
The curtains ruffled once again, revealing the pale face of a boy who shuffled forward into the room. I recognized him immediately by his blazer: a shiny royal blue embroidered with stylized clouds, between which snaked a crimson tubular form that I could now see was the body of a giant dragon, its face stitched in impressive detail onto the right jacket pocket. The boy Ayumi ran into earlier. His soft features gave him a youthful look that told me he must be a year or two younger than us.
“While you may not have heard of Miyaku before today, I’m sure many of you have heard whispers about my greatest asset. He has been instrumental in all of this and serves as a perfect example of what I’m offering you tonight.” Tsuyosugi reached his arm out, awkwardly grabbing the boy by the shoulder and pulling him closer. “Let me introduce you to my son, the Kuroyume.”
Ayumi poked me in the arm. “That’s the name on the card. I misread the kanji,” she hissed. “It’s not ‘fruit dream,’ it’s black dream.”
“That sounds a lot more superweapon-y for sure,” I whispered back.
Despite the name, the boy certainly didn’t act very menacingly. He simply stood there motionlessly and stared at the floor in front of him, like a five year old who had just been told off by their father.
Tsuyosugi gestured at his son and continued. “Like me, he acquired his gifts through a trial by fire of his own, becoming entangled with the energy of what we believe to be another dimension and barely escaping with his life. Ordinarily his powers are fairly weak, a residual amount of radiation at best, but now with our Miyaku, that connection becomes a powerful bond, and he is able to spread that entanglement to others.” He extended the device to his son.
For the first time, the boy spoke. “お父さん…待って…” His voice was meek and uneven, his syllables giving way like footsteps in sand. Despite not understanding his words, even I could tell the tone of whatever the boy had said was markedly different to the clearly self-important monologue we had been subjected to for the past five minutes.
Tsuyosugi’s face, however, was unflinching. “受け取って。” He placed the device squarely in his son’s face.
The boy took the device tenderly and slowly lowered his lips onto the tube. He closed his eyes. As his chest expanded, a green light glowed through the mouthpiece. The light faded and his eyes fluttered open. His lips parted slightly and out drifted a cloud of radioactive green smoke that curled around the device as he pulled it out of his mouth. He blinked slowly, his chest rising and falling heavily. The smoke dissolved into the air and its scent began to permeate the room, drifting into my nose and giving me a whiff of what smelled like a cross between acetone and cotton candy. He handed the device back to his father and stepped into the glass cube.
One of the guards pulled the bag off the prisoner’s head, revealing the dark features of a Japanese man. As the boy approached, the guards suddenly released him, quickly backing out of the cage and shutting the door behind them. The man blinked in the light. His head twisted back and forth as his eyes darted between the audience in front of him and the boy approaching him from behind. “離れろ！この変態っ！お前—” He hobbled forward for a moment, struggling against his bound arms and legs, before face planting on the steel floor. He continued to struggle, flopping towards the wall of the cage like a fish desperate to escape being bludgeoned to death.
The boy extended his hand forward. Gray tendrils of digital static began to seep from his palm—or at least that’s the way my brain interpreted the optical illusion in front of me. The tendrils resembled smoke, but with a peculiar, permanent shine to them that remained unchanging as they curled through the air, as though unaffected by the lighting of the room. They moved sporadically around the cage, not just towards the man, but ricocheting off the glass walls faster and faster, almost as though I was watching some chemical reaction happen right before my eyes. In an instant, the cube was filled with the shimmering haze, the silhouette of the boy and the prisoner now just barely visible in the static. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, the glass cleared and the boy was once again revealed, still standing with his hand outstretched. Below him, the man had stopped moving, his back now arched in an uncomfortable-looking position with his mouth hanging open slightly. His chest rose and fell slowly, so much so that it was nearly imperceptible. Most noticeable however, were his eyes. They looked as though they were glued open, but where his eyeballs once were, now sat beady black orbs.
The room was silent. I glanced at the other guests, picking through their faces to gauge reactions to the scene in front of us. Most were simply staring intently with unintelligible looks, but a few appeared almost scared, their mouths slightly agape. However, most disturbingly, I also could’ve sworn I saw the glint of a few sinister smiles in the dark.
My attention was brought back to the front of the room as Tsuyosugi opened the door to the cage and his son stepped backwards through it, before slinking back behind the curtains. Tsuyosugi swung the door shut and once again began speaking to the room, his translator following. “I hope this assures you that what we’re offering is truly on another level. Together we can ensure the future of the world we’ve all worked so hard for.” He stepped back, a smile plastered on his face as if proud of himself nailing that speech. “I’m sure you’re all very excited to know more details—my representatives will be in touch very soon with the next steps. I look forward to working with each and every one of you. Now, please, go with this newfound solace and enjoy the rest of your night.” He bowed deeply once again, before turning and disappearing back behind the curtain as well.
The crowd came alive with whispers as they began chatting amongst themselves, many taking out their phones and beginning to tap furiously. I leaned forward and spoke softly in Ayumi’s ear. “I thought that static was some kind of glitch in the cameras, but seeing that in person was…trippy. The effect on that guy, it’s an exact match too—I think we found our superweapon.”
“How are we supposed to destroy them all? Supposedly every person in this room has one,” she whispered back.
“That won’t be necessary,” Jason chimed in. “You just need to eliminate the boy.”
We were both stunned for a moment. “The Agency has instructed you to do whatever is necessary to eliminate the threat,” he continued, “although it goes without saying that we prefer you do so and escape without drawing any attention.” A lump began to form at the back of my throat. I don’t know what I had expected—we were here to destroy the superweapon and save the world—of course that would be by any means necessary.
“Understood,” I replied. Ayumi turned and scowled at me. Without saying a word, she fell in behind a few guests who were now heading for the exit, motioning for me to follow.
We exited the showroom, Ayumi leading me down the hallway to the left and around the corner of the gallery, just out of earshot of the guard posted at the door and the other guests exiting the show room.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked. “The security detail seems to be focused on Tsuyosugi, not his son, so if we can find and isolate him somehow, then…” She didn’t respond, instead staring at me unblinking with her mouth in a pout, almost as if she was questioning every word coming out of my mouth. She reached up and touched behind her ear, muting her comms. She motioned for me to do the same. What is she doing? She gave no answer to my unspoken question, continuing to wait expectantly in silence. I reached up and reluctantly followed her lead.
My hand had barely left my ear when she spoke. “You can’t be serious.”
“What? You heard Jason.”
“Since when has the Agency been about assassination?”
I hesitated. “I mean, you said it yourself—dire actions to prevent cataclysmic events. Can we really make any assumptions?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m supposed to believe a scared teenage boy is the greatest threat to the Agency that’s ever existed?”
“Well he did just kill someone with a touch of his hand to advertise a power enhancement drug…”
“And without it he’s no more dangerous than either of us. This doesn’t feel right.” She crossed her arms, her eyes glazing over in thought. “This whole mission doesn’t make any sense. How could they ever think assigning us to this was a good idea?” She was right, it didn’t make sense. But it had to.
“We passed the review,” I said, launching her own words back at her.
“And look how you reacted anyway! We’re facing a supposedly world-ending threat, and they put one team—practically the most volatile and unpredictable pairing of agents possible—in charge of stopping it?” She shook her head. “The Agency isn’t stupid—they’re desperate. There’s something else going on here.” Her face softened, her eyes almost pleading with me. “We need to work together and figure out what it is.”
I began to get a feeling in the pit of my stomach, like when you’re a kid and your parents—who are always right about everything, because they’re your parents—say something you know to be wrong, but they remain so adamant that they’re right. It’s like your whole world is turning upside down, except it isn’t, because it’s just a conversation, but it feels like it is. I tried to bury it somewhere deep inside me, and focus on the facts of the situation. The fact that we were agents on a black op to destroy a dangerous superweapon. The fact that the Agency had instructed us to do so by any means necessary. The fact that we finally had a clear objective and now she was dragging her feet. Or is she finding an excuse to? Before I knew what was happening, my brain flipped into autopilot, flooding my body with adrenaline and moving my feet out from under me. I pushed past her, heading back towards the showroom. “This was a mistake.”
She grabbed me by the arm. “You’re really about to kill an innocent person just because the Agency told you to?”
I turned back towards her, yanking my arm out of her grasp. “Weren’t you the one who was just lecturing me about this? ‘If you want this job, you need to figure out a way to put your emotions aside and deal with it.’”
“Well maybe I don’t want it anymore.” She planted her hands on her hips. “This isn’t what I signed up for.” Her voice faltered and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I don’t think it ever has been.”
I scoffed at her. “And you’re the one they made L4.”
Immediately her eyes shot back up to meet mine. “Oh my god—you’re still on that?” Her gaze was sharp, like any move I made could result in me getting cut. “I swear you never cared this much about your job until I was promoted and you weren’t.”
A fire began to smolder in my chest and I glared back with an equally fierce scowl. “Just because I didn’t spend years of my life training to get here, doesn’t mean it means any less to me,” I said, my head nearly now on fire. “I get it, this is your dream, but for some of us it’s just what we were born to do…and it pays well.”
“And what about the bigger picture? Don’t you want your powers to be used for good? What we do here has real consequences—it’s not just a job.” She stepped so her face was in mine. “So what is this about for you? Doing the right thing—or doing what’s best for you?”
I snorted, unable to contain the laugh that escaped my chest. “You’re the one who wants to let a killer run free on the streets! I’m starting to think you’re the one who actually doesn't care about what we’re doing here. I think—” I paused, the pieces slowly fitting together in my mind. “I think that now that the mission’s almost done, you don’t want to finish it…because it was never about the mission, was it? It was about you trying to get another chance with me.”
She stared at me like I had lost my mind. “And now it’s all about you again.” She threw her hands in the air. “You want to talk about us? Fine, we can talk about us,” she snapped, her voice now loud enough to echo down the hallway. I flinched, unconsciously taking a step backward. My eyes darted to the corridor we had just come from, checking for signs that we had gathered unwanted attention, but despite her sudden outburst the hallway was still empty. “Explain this to me, Devonte,” she continued, “why do you always insist on jumping to the worst possible conclusions?”
A shiver ran down my back, highlighting the icy sweat trickling down it. I tried to rekindle my anger to match hers, but my brain was preoccupied with instinctively switching to the defensive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I mess up. I keep one secret from you, and you immediately assume I’ve been lying to you about everything.” Her arms gestured violently in the air as she ranted. “And now, with this poor kid who’s clearly being exploited by his father—you think that all I care about is getting back together with you.” Her head jutted forward. “Believe it or not, my world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“You sure made it seem like it did.” The comeback came effortlessly, the wheels now beginning to spin in my brain again. “And it’s not ‘assuming the worst,’ I can just see now how you always twist these things to make yourself seem like the victim.”
Now it was her turn to be confused. “What?”
“You complain that people around you never stay, when you’re the one who always blows up on them about something. You’re constantly complaining about how uncompromising your mother is, when you’re just as stubborn as she is. And then—the cherry on top—you complain that you’re ‘having a hard time’ after getting a promotion at your cushy job.”
“Because of you!” I nearly had to duck as she gestured aggressively in my face. “You made my life hard when I was finally getting everything I ever wanted. Why can’t you accept that maybe I actually am just better at my job than you? And that me being really good at this doesn’t inherently make you bad at it.”
Just as soon as they had gained momentum, the wheels in my head ground to a halt. I had heard every word she had said, but it was like my brain was unable to process what they all meant together. “I—because we started at the same time,” I stuttered. “We were in the same class. We were equals.”
“Until we weren’t, and you couldn’t take that I outranked you. I still don’t understand why. This isn’t a competition, we both win when I make more money. We can live in a nicer apartment—one with an actual kitchen. We can travel more. Maybe I could even take us to some of those fancy restaurants you’re always watching videos about.” She shook her head. “There should’ve been no downside to this.”
I broke eye contact to stare over her shoulder, my vision glazing over. “You should know why it bothered me.”
“But you aren’t your father…me getting a promotion didn’t magically destroy this relationship—you did that. Did you even stop for a second to sit and think about why you felt that way?”
Another shiver ran down my back. I stood there silently, struggling to find any words at all, my brain now completely empty. She continued to stare at me, her lips pursed. Is she actually waiting for me to give an answer? After what felt like it must have been a minute of silence, I finally sputtered a response. “I can’t control how what you did made me feel.”
“No, you can’t, but that’s what you don’t seem to get—it’s not about how you feel, it’s about how you deal with that feeling. I swear, you’re so focused on that one moment, but to be honest—I think you stopped loving me way before any of that.” My heart plummeted into my stomach. “For months it didn't even feel like we were together anymore. I felt like I was just some stranger in your home that you ‘had’ to spend an hour with every night until you went to work or the gym again.” Her air quotes were blades running across my skin. “I don’t think this was ever about a stupid promotion at all. I think you were—and are—too afraid to be vulnerable. Too afraid to admit that maybe this breakup wasn’t all my fault, and that you actually had something to be sad about. And now you’d rather kill an innocent person than work with your ex-girlfriend and face the fact that you might not be as stoic about this whole situation as you want to be.”
My face was definitely flush now and I could barely catch my breath. It took everything in me not to scream at her right then and there. “I didn’t ask to be here with you, and I certainly didn’t ask for a psychoanalysis. I’m just trying to finish this stupid mission so I can never have to see you again. Why can’t you just let me do that? Oh, wait, actually I can answer my own question—because you’re SELFISH!”
She stood there unphased, as if she already knew what I was going to say. “And now you’re going to blow everything up because of it.” She shook her head. “Maybe you are just like your father.”
Her eyes grew wide and she immediately bit her lip, realizing the words that had just come out of her mouth, but it was too late. My head burst into flames and my lips flew open to let out a roar. “Don’t fucking compare me to him.” An exasperated laugh escaped her chest as she fed off my energy, the argument once again reignited.
“Then don’t act like him. You were so afraid of becoming like him that you did. You’re a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
I shook my head. “Don’t talk like you know me.”
“Stop acting like I don’t,” she snapped back.
“Except you obviously don’t—because if you did, you would get by now that I. don’t. want. to. be. with. you.” I enunciated every word, as if that would finally make them sink in. I stopped to catch my breath. Her eyes shimmered in the light, like small flames were licking at her eyelids. I couldn’t stare at them anymore. My vision adjusted to focus on the wall behind her head and the words came out like a landslide. “And at this point…I’m not sure why I ever did.”
Her jaw dropped slightly and her whole face quivered. “I don’t understand…I don’t understand how you could’ve insisted nonstop that I was the most amazing person in the world and now treat me like I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you. When we met, you changed my life…even changed how I thought about myself.”
I glanced back at her. All I could see was a sad puppy who I had just abandoned on the side of the road staring back at me. I hesitated, words pressing against the inside of my lips and the truth threatening to leap out, but my jaw was clamped shut. My mind raced as I tried to sort through what I felt, what I wanted to say, and what I should say.
“Maybe I was wrong.” My voice wavered, despite how unnatural the words felt as they left my lips, it felt too far to turn back now—I was on an icy mountainside, sliding down with no chance of stopping until I hit the bottom. “If I had known how this was going to go…if I could go back and choose whether to do this all over again…I don’t think I would.”
Tears had built up at the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. “You could’ve walked away and been everything you know…I would’ve thought about you forever. But instead all you’re doing is ruining every moment we ever had together.” She buried her head in her hands, her shoulders jerking back and forth as the corridor was filled with the sound of her sobbing. I glanced around, my face flushing as I was reminded of the scene we were probably causing, but somehow we were still alone. She sniffed loudly, then slowly looked up at me. Her eyes were no longer filled with anger, but pure pain. Her lip trembled, then her mouth opened. “I hate that you had to be the first person to love me.”
Her words were like a bomb exploding and I could’ve sworn my ears began ringing. My breath caught in my throat and I felt a stabbing pain in my chest, like a piece of shrapnel had buried itself there and punctured one of my lungs. I swallowed, trying to breathe normally, but the air just got caught in my chest.
She sniffled, messily wiping away the tears still clinging to her face with her palm. “Why can’t I just believe you?” Her eyes flit back and forth between mine, as if she were still trying to find some shred of hope in them. “Prove it. Tell me you never loved me.” Her face grew defiant, her lips pursed and her brow once again furrowed—her teary eyes and still glistening nostrils now the only giveaway that she had been crying just a moment before. “Tell me you never loved me at all and I’ll let you go. You can finish the mission, I’ll quit the Agency, and we never have to see each other ever again.”
All of a sudden, the gears in my brain jammed and the words stopped coming altogether. It was like I couldn’t breathe, stifled by such a direct question that I couldn’t escape. I wanted so badly for this to be over. I wanted to just say what she asked me to and walk away from the whole situation. I wanted to move on with my life. I willed my mouth to open, but it was no use—I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Why? I wouldn’t have admitted it then, but by that point I think I knew deep down that it wasn’t as simple as that. I couldn’t just walk away and never think about it again—I had already tried that—and the truth was that I hadn’t gone a day without thinking about her since our relationship ended. All I could think about now was one thing—a recurring thought in the back of my head that had haunted me since even before we had broken up. What was once the hardest thing to admit, now felt like the easiest answer. I opened my mouth and the words came tumbling out.
“I can’t. I can’t say that, because I loved you more than anything. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t feel that way about you anymore.”
My vision was a blur. I tilted my head toward the ceiling and blinked several times, but it was no use. I tried my best not to look at her, fearing that if I did, I would lose whatever small shred of control I still had left. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her staring at me. She wasn’t moving or saying anything, just standing there with an expression I couldn’t make out, the tears at the corners of my vision making her face an impressionistic painting.
“Hey!” A voice rang out from down the hall.
Through my blurry vision I could just make out a head of flaming auburn hair approaching us. I dragged my eyes against my arm to clear my vision, only to find myself subject to a familiar death glare.
“That’s them!” Elizabeth called out.
I panicked, my brain taking an elongated millisecond to process the situation. The actions came out in a haphazard order: I blinked twice, reactivated my comms, swore under my breath, turned back towards the empty hallway to our left…except it was too late. Two of Tsuyosugi’s guards loomed in front of me, grabbing me by the arms with an iron grip. They swung me around, pinning my arms behind my back.
Jason’s voice buzzed through my skull. “Ayumi, Devonte, you need to finish the mission and get out of there now.” In front of me, my ex was fighting against the grip of two more guards, but she was soon restrained as well. I wanted to reply with a snide comment about how we were a little preoccupied at the moment, but I was too busy trying to twist my arm out of the guards’ grasp, which only resulted in them bending it even further behind my back until I yelped in pain.
They pushed us back into the showroom and immediately began moving us towards the glass cage. The next thing I knew I was splayed on the ground, with one of the guard's hands pressing my head against the cold steel floor of the cube. The room was filled with the scuffling of feet and loud voices as the guards argued with each other in Japanese. Out of the corner of my vision I could see the curtains part and a pair of sandaled feet emerged. The scuffle immediately stopped. “私を馬鹿だと思っているのか？最も重要な顧客を認識できないと？ところで、あなたは誰ですか？” I craned my neck, trying to see my interrogator. Tsuyosugi’s large frame came into view, his face twisted into a grotesque sneer as he peered through the glass at us. His son was standing behind him, the boy’s pale face barely visible around his father’s wide shoulders. “I know you are not on my invite list.” Tsuyosugi’s commanding voice boomed through the room in English now. “Who are you?”
“My name is Margaret—Margaret Barnes. That’s my fiance Caleb,” Ayumi blurted through her gritted teeth. “We just happened to walk into the showing.”
“I don’t believe you. Who sent you here?”
“What do you mean ‘sent us here’? We were invited to the gala just like everybody else,” I replied.
Tsuyosugi barked something in Japanese and suddenly the weight pressing on my back was relieved for a moment, only to be replaced with the feeling of being yanked upward as we were pulled off the floor. I struggled against my captors—trying uselessly to break the deathgrip they had on my wrists. My knees collided with the floor as they forced me to kneel. Ayumi yelped in pain from beside me, but before I could turn to look at her, one of the guards ran his hands through my hair, grabbing hold and pulling my face upward forcefully.
Tsuyosugi motioned towards the darkness behind him. A guard stepped into the cage, pulling back his suit jacket with his hand, revealing a handle of some kind. He grabbed it and unhooked it from his belt, elongating a metal baton with a flick of his wrist.
“Hey, wait a minu—” I was cut off by the sound of my own teeth chattering as he connected the baton with my chest and my whole body attempted to turn into a human stand mixer. The only thing that kept me from collapsing and flailing around on the floor was the iron grip of the guard behind me. What must have been merely seconds felt more like minutes, and I was on the verge of tears when the sweet relief of not having nine million volts of electricity coursing through my body finally came. I struggled to catch my breath as the guard lowered the baton.
“Okay, okay—we’re here for fruit dream!” I exclaimed.
Tsuyosugi stared at us in dismay, clearly confused. “Fu-ru-to do-ri-mu?” he said, repeating my words in a thick Japanese accent. “何それ？” He turned to his son, who shook his head, just as confused.
“I had to know what it was.” I continued. “My curiosity and love of fruit was killing me.”
Tsuyosugi's face was in a full scowl now as he continued to get angrier by the second. “もう一度。”
The guard whipped the baton against my chest again, igniting it. My pecs began to tense up immediately, but instead of letting it arc uncontrollably across my muscles, I relaxed a bit and let it sink deeper, absorbing some—but not too much—of the energy. The baton’s crackle dampened slightly, but I continued to twitch involuntarily and my insides felt like they were being slowly deep fried. I grit my teeth and tried to focus on keeping air coming in through my nose. The guard finally depowered the baton and let the tip slide off my chest.
“Why are you here?”
“The mon-ju,” I panted. “I thought this was a private tasting.”
“Caleb—shut up!” Ayumi interjected from my left.
I ignored her, continuing. “I wasn’t a huge fan of the ‘aluminum brick’ flavor you were handing out, but I was willing to give them another shot.” Tsuyosugi’s face was frozen in a glare. Not even a chuckle? I’m starting to get offended. He motioned and the guard drove the baton into me, sending electricity coursing through my body once again. My chest was fully on fire now. My vision began to blur and my eyelids grew heavy, but I forced them open and twisted my mouth into the best smile I could muster. When he finally removed the baton, I had never been more thankful in my life to have my whole body just ache. I had almost had enough. Almost.
“You’re doing a terrible job representing your country right now,” I managed to sputter. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat sushi again.”
The guard instinctively moved to jab me with the baton, but Tsuyosugi raised his hand, causing him to stop in his tracks. “I don’t have time for this. Whoever you are, I don’t think anyone will miss you being here.”
“Haruto!” Tsuyosugi barked. His son skittered out from behind him. Haruto. That must be his name. “処分しろ。” A sinking feeling in my chest joined the symphony of signals currently flooding my nervous system. Every muscle group in my body ached like it was the day after the most intense full body workout ever. Tsuyosugi looked at his son. “処分しろ,” he repeated. Despite what must have been a command from his father, the boy was motionless.
“What’s he saying?” I asked through gritted teeth. The guard had pulled my hair so taught, it felt like he was going to rip my scalp right off.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good,” Ayumi replied, her voice also strained.
“だから、処分しろ！” Tsuyosugi repeated, more forcefully this time. Without meeting his father’s gaze, Haruto slowly shuffled towards the door of the cage. The guards suddenly released their grip on me and I had to throw my arms to the ground to keep from toppling flat on my face. I staggered to my feet and immediately raised my fists to see Haruto step into the cage. The guards who were holding us moments before, nearly tripped over each other as they scrambled to get out.
Jason’s voice hummed against ear. “Now's the time—take out the target.”
I lifted my fists slightly higher into the proper stance. Distance doesn’t matter in this case, as soon as that door closes, it’s fair game. His powers will move faster than we can react—I need to move first and end this fight before—
My thoughts were interrupted by a hand obscuring my vision—Ayumi’s. She held her other hand up towards Haruto, slowly taking a step forward as he took another step towards us.
“Wait, please…” Her voice was soft, but unwavering. His face showed no reaction, as if he hadn’t heard her at all. He was only feet away from her now and took another step forward. “Please don’t do this.”
“I have to,” he said, once again with his thick accent. He slowly began to lift his hand. She’s going to get us killed. I stepped forward, quickly calculating my next move. I turned my focus to the low buzzing I could feel in the room, mostly from the lights in the ceiling above us. I needed to see if he had any kind of electronic devices on him—a phone, smartwatch—anything that I could overload.
“Wait!” The sound of Ayumi shouting broke my concentration. Her lips trembled, but then she spoke, her tongue twisting in her mouth as she produced words in an unfamiliar language. “ちょっと待って下さい。” Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, including Haruto. I held my breath and couldn’t help but let my jaw hang open. I had never heard her speak Japanese before, but to my untrained ear she sounded just like they did. “私の日本語は本当に悪いけど、言いたいことがある。”
Haruto’s eyes were wide and his hand was now frozen at waist height. Tsuyosugi’s voice called something out from the darkness. “彼女の言うことを聞くな。”
“Why do you think you have to do this?” she asked, now speaking again in English. Her face was calm as she waited for his response, but I could see the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly. The boy blinked, as if surprised by her question, but he remained silent. “You can trust me…” she continued, “I know you don’t want to do this. You don’t have to.”
“急げ！” Tsuyosugi’s voice echoed throughout the room.
Haruto’s hand continued to rise slowly, but this time, he spoke. “He told me to.”
“These aren’t his powers. They’re yours—it’s your choice what to do with them. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Ayumi, what are you doing? Take out the target. Now!” Jason’s voice was more forceful now.
She acted as if she hadn’t even heard him, her brow furrowed with concern. “Has he hurt you?” Haruto’s hand stopped at eye level, shaking slightly as his whole body trembled, but he remained silent. “If he has, then you need to get as far away from him as possible. Go to someone else you can trust.”
“何言っているの？” Tsuyosugi was now furiously looking back and forth between his staff, having sensed that he was no longer in complete control of the situation—or his son.
“Nobody else wants me,” Haruto said softly.
“I don’t believe that.” She was facing away from me, but I could hear her voice break slightly. “I used to think that for a long time too. I know it’s hard to believe that there could ever be anything else out there when all you’ve known fits that narrative he’s told you…but you’ll also never know if you always live in that shadow he’s cast for you.”
Jason’s voice roared in our eardrums. “Execute the target! Now!”
“I know it sounds impossible and like the end of the world, but I promise you—if you take a chance, the universe will see that you’ve sacrificed everything and have mercy on you.”
“Ayumi? AYUMI!” She dug behind her ear and clawed off the communication device. It clattered onto the floor beside her, filling the now silent room with sound for a brief moment.
Tsuyosugi went off like a grenade. “Haruto、あいつらを殺せ！” His voice was deafening and in his eyes was a fury that I hadn’t seen before. Everyone in the room was still motionless, unsure of what would happen next.
“Devonte.” The crackle as he adjusted the mic was followed by Jason’s voice reverberating clearly through my head. “Devonte, if you execute the target now and make a clean escape, an L4 position is yours.”
My heart skipped a beat. It felt like time went into slow motion, my mind unable to process what was actually happening in that moment, and instead detaching from it completely. It was like I was suddenly transported to a copy of the room we were standing in, but in another dimension, where the pressing nature of reality was far, far away. My vision focused on the glowing ceiling above our heads. As my eyes adjusted to its brilliance, I could just make out the individual tubes of fluorescent lights. They flickered slightly, and their familiar buzz crept its way into my ears, and along with it, a voice. My mother’s words once again echoed through my head. “Just stay true to yourself.”
I blinked and looked away from the light, blind for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the rest of the room. My gaze landed on Ayumi, who was still standing in front of me with Haruto’s hand looming in her face. My consciousness of reality came rushing back all at once, punctuated by the feeling of my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. Ayumi glanced at me, her eyes scanning my face. She furrowed her brow, realizing what must have happened. I touched the tip of my earpiece with two fingers. She shook her head, her eyes pleading with me, but I had already made up my mind.
“Jason?” I took a deep breath. “Consider this my resignation.” A guttural buzzing reverberated through my skull as I pulled my hand away slowly, an arc of electricity chasing my outstretched fingers. It disappeared with a small snap and my hand buzzed with the energy I had captured, quickly harmonizing with the vibrations coursing through the rest of my body. I concentrated, drawing all of it up and into my hands, spreading my arms wide in the process. I locked my knees as it flowed up my limbs and added to the symphony of pins and needles prickling every inch of my hands. Then, I clapped my hands together.
Instantly the buzzing ceased completely. There was a momentary flash that flooded even the deepest corners of the room with a blinding light, illuminating the surprised faces of Tsuyosugi’s staff. The man himself’s twisted scowl became a pasty white ghost, split straight down the middle by one of the ginormous cracks in the now spider-webbed glass. Then the room dissolved into complete darkness. The piercing crash of shattering glass quickly followed, surrounding us on all sides. I felt tiny pricks on my shoulder as the remains of the fluorescent lights rained down from above us.
“Go!” I yelled. I ran forward in the darkness. Something slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. However, without the effect of my whole body fighting against me, I was stationary for only a moment. I gasped for air to replenish my lungs, then shoved what must have been a guard backwards into the darkness, pressing forward. I reached the doors and fumbled in the dark for the handle, throwing them open and dashing into the hallway. I glanced back to see Ayumi squeeze through the door as well, nearly running into a couple that was walking by. She stopped halfway down the hall, glancing behind her.
“Haruto,” she exclaimed, “he didn’t make it out!” The door burst open as one of Tsuyosugi’s staff charged out of the showroom, baton still in hand.
“We leave now or we might not make it out of here!” I called back to her. She glanced at the guard, then back at me, hesitating for a moment. I took off down the hallway, not wasting another second.
“...one second!” She called out from behind me. I turned to see her hobble for a moment, slipping off one heel, then the other. The suited man was right behind her. He reached out, his hands inches from clasping around her arm…only to take both heels straight to the face. She turned and started towards me, leaving the man staggering down the hallway clutching his face.
We blazed through the venue, pushing past partygoers who looked confused and alarmed as we followed the shortest route to the exit. A few of them reached out their arms and moved to stop us, but I braced my shoulder and pushed right through them. As we rounded the corner to the elevators, I skidded to a halt. One of the elevator doors had just slid open to reveal four burly guards clad in white plated body armor. Their faces were obscured by white masks, and large machine guns were strapped around their chests.
Oh shit. “Not this way!” I pushed Ayumi back in the other direction. “We need to find a different exit.” We quickly doubled back and made a sharp right at the first intersection we came to, twisting through the corridors until we arrived back at the entrance to the main hall. Inside, a mix of guests, tall tables with long black tablecloths, and a few waiters stood between us and the balcony. I weaved through the crowd, slipping through groups of people and narrowly dodging being beheaded by a waiter’s metal tray. A flash caught my eye as Ayumi swiped something from one of them, but I was quickly distracted as event staff in black suits came charging up the staircase to my right. They reached onto their belts and brandished their own extendable batons that crackled with electricity. I couldn’t help but snicker to myself. They really make this too easy for me.
“Get on the ground!” one of them yelled at us. He charged at Ayumi while the other raised his baton and swung it towards me. I leaped forward, extending my right arm towards him. The guard’s stick collided with my hand and I wrapped my fingers around it, my arm twitching for a second and my muscles contracting as electricity coursed through it. Before the current could spread any further, I drew my focus to the feeling in my hand. It grew warm and soon the twitching of my arm had stopped, replaced by the feeling of pins and needles dancing up its length as I absorbed the baton’s charge. The guard’s eyes grew wide as he realized he was now holding nothing more than an overpriced metal stick. I took advantage of his surprise and wrenched the baton out of his hand, whipping it around to smack him in the nose with the handle. He collapsed to the floor with his face in his hands.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Ayumi splashing the other guard in the eyes with what looked like champagne, before smashing the glass in his face. Without wasting another moment, I mounted the banister and slid down, reaching the first floor in a matter of seconds, before hopping off and skidding to a halt on the smooth tile. In the commotion, guests were quickly abandoning the dance floor and scrambling towards the walls of the room.
I glanced to my right and my stomach lurched. Five guards clad in the same bulky white armor were now standing in formation, creating a wall between us and the hallway that led to the elevators. I pivoted to the left. Another group of guards marched into position blocking the other exit, their eyes glaring through slits in their hardshell masks.
Ayumi dismounted from the banister and slid up behind me, pushing me forward as she began backing away from the stairs. I turned to face the semi-circle of guests that had formed behind us, ten feet between us and any of them. Their faces leered at us, some with fear, others disgust. No one wanted to get close to the intruders. How do they know it was us? I wasn’t sure, but everyone in the room was now staring at the two people who didn’t belong. Maybe they always had been. I could hear the commotion of more guards pushing through the crowd of people towards us. We were trapped, backing slowly towards the giant glass wall at the edge of the building.
“Ayumi…” She looked at me. “Where are we going?”
“Out the window.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
I turned away from the menacing faces of the elite of the world in their fancy suits and gowns and faced the midnight cityscape. Without a moment to breathe, I booked it towards the wall, extending my arms in front of me and concentrating. I ran straight into it, my hands barely touching the cool glass before…BOOM! The glass wall exploded as I fell head first into the dark void beyond. I glanced back. She was right behind me, her red dress flapping in the chilly night air—a red flame in the indigo landscape.