XCEL

New to one of them, another voice made Rin and Ibuse both spin on a heel. “Is it finally over?”

Stepping tremulously toward them, Aiko Yakuhin’ face was pale beyond belief. Her gait wobbled with every step. Laying her eyes on Rin, she paused for a moment, eyes wide. “You’re okay.” She mumbled. “Rin, you’re—” She couldn’t bear to finish her sentence. Stumbling into a run, she launched herself into a desperate embrace around his shoulders, sending them both to the floor.

“Get off me, woman!” Rin screeched, desperately writhing around on the grass. Aiko clung on tight, sobbing into his shoulder. “Ibuse! Arrest her, or something! Isn’t this assault?”

“I’m not sticking my hand into that hornet's nest.”

Aiko eventually let go; Rin scrambled away, mortified. “Don’t do that! I’ve been attacked enough today.”

“I was so scared you were dead!” Aiko sat back on her ankles, wiping away the tears. “After what that guy did to you—I don’t understand! What on earth is going on?”

Ibuse raised an eyebrow. “Mind filling me in?”

“Aiko Yakuhin.” Rin pointed. “She’s got no stakes—just a civilian. She somehow managed to avoid being Rejected by the distortion. Some stroke of luck.”

“You two seem pretty close.”

“I’ve never met her before in my life.”

“Just take a breath.” Ibuse crouched down beside her and offered a hand. She took it and rose to her feet. He showed her his badge: some semblance of what he hoped would be worldly familiarity amid all this supernatural chaos. “My name’s Ibuse; I’m with the police. You’ve seen a lot that you won’t be able to understand. That’s alright. Just try not to think about it. The situation’s been resolved. You’re not in any danger. We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Aiko nodded. “And Rin, your arms?!”

“All fixed. Don’t worry about me.” Rin showed them off, good as new. “Let’s get you out of here. Can you move?”

Aiko still looked far too shaken. She had begun to stare into the distance, unseeing. Rin bit his lip, then offered his arm. “Come on, hold.”

She sighed in relief, clutching the arm in both hands. Rin suppressed his shudder. Now wasn’t the time. Heading in the direction of the gates, he turned to Ibuse. “Ruri’s waiting outside—remember Blue? He has a proper name now. Anyway. We rescued a kid earlier, and Ruri stayed outside to evacuate people from the perimeter so that they didn’t get swept up into the distortion.

“Impressive forethought.” Ibuse grinned. “Let’s reconvene. He’d benefit to learn about all this as well.”

It didn’t take them long to make their way out of the park, especially now that it no longer resembled such a chaotic, psychedelic archipelago. All the while, Rin filled Ibuse in on what he’d missed, including a lengthy depiction of his superb architectural feats in the past hour. Ibuse didn’t bother feigning interest, but didn’t protest either—simply letting the boy’s rambling wash over him like the tide.

Leaning up against the wall of a nearby building, Ruri Karakusa kept cautious watch outside the southern gates, hands buried deep in their jacket pockets. The surrounding area was completely deserted. There wasn’t presence besides their own in nearly a mile radius. Catching sight of them at last, Ruri approached, worried.

“Operation success!” Rin smirked. “The distortion’s been resolved.”

Ruri returned a smile of relief.

Ibuse offered a friendly nod. “Looks like you’ve held the fort well. Much obliged. I’ll need you and Harigane to accompany me from here-on, but first—” His gaze turned to Aiko, still hanging limply off Rin’s arm. “Someone needs to escort Miss Yakuhin home. It’d be best if she wasn’t involved in this any longer.”

“No!” Aiko tried in vain to right herself. “I want to know what’s going on! I want to help.”

“No, stop.” Rin cut across. “Not letting that happen. You saw for yourself how dangerous this all is. You’re still in shock. Don’t be stupid.”

His harsh words cut through the fog on her mind. Aiko’s pupils refocused. She blinked, then bit her lip, a little despondent. “You’re right. I don’t understand a thing. Whatever you’re doing: I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Aiko, look at me.” Rin held by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Just go home and rest. It’s important you know—hell, it’s important everyone knows—but not right now.” He turned to Ibuse. “Pen?”

Bemused, the detective fished one out of his jacket.

Rin scribbled down a string of numbers on Aiko’s palm. “Leave a message and I’ll get back in touch. I still want to know more about your degree.”

Aiko stared at the number, then back at him. “Giving a girl your number just like that?” She giggled. “You’re bold.”

“Don’t make it weird.” Rin scowled and let go immediately. Spinning on a heel, he skulked a few paces away. “Go on. Get lost. Go home already.”

“Yes, sir.” Aiko turned to Ruri, thanked him for his help and beckoned him closer, before kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ll drive you back,” Ibuse offered. “My car’s not far away.”

Looking over Ibuse’s shoulder, Rin caught sight of something silver roll roll into view around the corner of the park. “Hey, isn’t that your car?”

Sure enough, the infamous Mazda Capella approached with a contented purr. Ibuse yelled, searching for his key. It hadn’t moved from his breast pocket, which only confused him even more! The car rolled up to them and stopped on the side of the road, three feet away. Its sidelights winked, and the engine stopped. Ibuse, cursing the tinted windows, stepped up to the driver side and yanked at the handle, only to find it still locked! Unlocking it finally, he wrenched the door open to see no-one behind the wheel. What on earth? Ibuse peered inside, but there was no-one to be seen. Only one psychic signature besides his own, resonating all around the car’s interior.

“Harigane—” Ibuse, dumbstruck, gestured to the car. “Any clue?”

Rin looked just as confused. “There’s no-one in there?”

“Not a soul—” Ibuse cut himself off at a realisation. “Hang on.”

Humans tend to anthropomorphise concepts they can’t understand. Toshina’s wisdom filtered back into mind. He looked back at his dear Mazda, his companion; they’d been together for the best part of a decade. What about that psychic signature he had felt; if concepts like Time had associated phenomena, then maybe, just maybe…

“Followed me all the way here, did you girl?” Ibuse smirked. “Probably left without saying goodbye, didn’t I? Sorry about that. Didn’t mean for you to worry.” He leant over and patted the roof. The door locks clicked approvingly, and the sidelights winked once more.

Rin and Ruri shared a look.

“Did that car just…?”

Ruri nodded.

“Wild.”

“Yakuhin, come with me.” Ibuse beckoned, opening his passenger door. Aiko spared a final glance at Rin, and did as requested. To Rin and Ruri, Ibuse pointed to his watch and followed with, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The two disappeared once they turned the street corner. Rin walked back over to Ruri, and perched himself on a nearby bollard. Supporting himself on his knees, he let loose a sigh of pure fatigue. Ruri stood nearby, a protective hand on Rin’s shoulder.

“Some morning, huh?”

Ruri’s silent nod was more sympathetic than words could ever be.

Just then, they heard a car come turn the corner of a side-street behind them. To their shock, Ibuse pulled up in the Mazda alongside the nearby curb. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You really didn’t.” Rin pointed to where he’d just seen the detective leave. “Did Aiko get home safe?”

“Saw her to the front door.” Ibuse saluted. “Get in, both of you.”

They did as told. Like the first time, it was a squeeze for Ruri to fit in the back, but Rin had already called shotgun.

“Forty minutes ago—” Ibuse checked his watch: twelve noon— “my dispatch alerted me to two separate incidents going on at the same time: one here, the other at Yorusada Mall.”

“Fuck. That’s where Kinuka and Juusei are.” Rin blinked, horrified. “Yorusada’s on the other side of the city. Are they in danger?”

“Were.” Ibuse checked his watch. “It’s nearly midday. I expect everything will have happened by now.”

“Then we’re too late?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it. Remember?”

“The Corridor!” Rin slapped his forehead. “You can take other people with you?”

“I see no reason why not.” Ibuse shrugged. “Let’s see if we can get there a little ahead of schedule.” Engine still running, he released the parking brake and pulled away into a quick first-second-third gear start down the street. Once they reached the end of the street, he pointed ahead.

Open The Door

開門 Kaimon

The flow of time outside the Mazda ceased; ahead, beyond the golden sliding doors, awaited the endless expanse of the Evening Corridor.

* * *

“I’m too late...”

Standing on Yorusada Mall’s upper causeway, Tegata Kage stared blankly down at the consequence of his weakness, his own failure. Juusei Kanon lay spreadeagled on her front, blood seeping from full-body lacerations. A tangled pile of string exuding Kinuka Amibari’s psychic signature lay heaped three feet away. All was still in the desecrated shopping mall. Hundreds of pale bodies littered the floor. but he only cared about two. Wading through the sea of near-corpses, Tegata had seen the travesty with his own eyes.

11:45

Despite the old woman’s platitudes, he had left Granny’s the moment he felt a disturbance. It was faint, but he couldn’t ignore the signs. Not even Nightmare at full gallop had been fast enough to make it in time. If only he had been there. If only he had been able to protect them, to save them. His stomach wrung itself dry, and he winced. Blood drained from his head, his legs hollowed out, and Tegata swayed. He clutching the railing for support, before falling to his knees at Juusei’s side. He felt her signature, but her pulse was low. She had lost a lot of blood. As for Kinuka, the scariest part was that he didn’t know. It could have been a trick of the light, could have been wishful thinking, but he thought her saw the threads twitch. He had been too late to protect them, but hopefully wasn’t too late to save them.

The .30 calibre rifle bullet nearly punched a hole through his shoulder. A crack echoed throughout the mall. Tegata span in a corkscrew through the air, landing hard on his back.

“Target obstructed.” Despite the ringing in his head, Tegata made out a female voice from the other end of the causeway, one he couldn’t mistake. “Taking another shot.”

Crouched above one of the outlets, past a broken window, the stony eyed Tsushin Techukara didn’t so much as blink with recognition. Pressing her cheek back into the stock of her designated marksman’s rifle, the breech hissed and clicked another round into place, and she took aim. Tegata, eyes wide, didn’t even have time to cry out, before he felt the red sight train in on his forehead. He dove forward. The bullet missed him by inches. The ensuing crack echoed the crash of glass, as the round shattered the glass shopfront behind him.

Tegata transitioned from a roll to a crouch, poised to action. He stared up in horror. His blood ran cold. “Tsushin,” he croaked. “It’s me!”

“Don’t bother.” A boy stood next to Tsushin, arms folded: Dentaku Bango—he’d been in the JPRO car chasing them from the facility. The look on his face had changed, unnervingly so. His eyes were steely, matured. “She can’t hear you. Best save your breath.”

“Come to finish the job, have you?” Tegata growled. The click of Tsushin’s rifle alerted him to the incoming shot. Tegata darted behind a railing. A piercing clang sent a resonant wave through the metal and into his bones. Tegata winced, gingerly examined the bruise on his shoulder from the first shot. It hadn’t broken the skin. His psychic energy had deflected the kinetic energy well enough, but it hurt like anything.

He closed his eyes, third eye pulsing, his flow kicking into gear. Quick—priorities: they were likely after Kinuka and Juusei. Besides, their survival trumped his own fifty fold.

Shadow Puppet

影絵人形 Kagē Ningyō

He contorted his hands together and thrust them forward.

Second Plague

二番疫 Nibanyaku

A wave of darkness spilled out from Tegata’s shadow towards Juusei and the pile of thread. Thousands of individual frogs moved in a seamless current. They swallowed the bodies in their wake and left nothing behind.

“The charges are getting away!” Bango commanded. “Jam him!”

“I need line of sight!”

Like a fleeting shadow himself, Tegata dashed out from behind the railing and made swift towards the assailants.

“I’ll draw him out; you take the shot.” Bango rolled up his sleeves, priming himself with a crackle of psychic energy. “We can’t have any more failures.”

He leapt down from his vantage, just as Tegata sprung off an adjacent railing to ascend. The pink-haired boy flipped in midair, throwing a sparkling kick. Bango wound back a fist, a red spectral plus flashing behind him.

Powerstrike

加叩 Kakō

Their attacks clashed in midair, but Bango prevailed. The force from the Powerstrike blasted Tegata back. The boy recovered with record fluency and landed on his feet, heels digging grooves into the floor.

“Tegata Kage, right?” Bango touched gracefully down metres away. He circled him, eyes narrowed. “Hakana told me about your capabilities. Your defence isn’t bad.”

“I don’t care who you are,” Tegata seethed. “Stand aside.”

“Your survived that shot to your shoulder, and even blocked the residual force from my Powerstrike. You should be worth the effort.” Bango clenched a fist, crackling with latent psychic energy.

“Sorry,” Tegata lowered, eyes widening. “I’m not here to spar with you.” He thrust forward both hands, fingers splayed.

Flock

群 Gun

Shadow pigeons swarmed in a torrent at Dentaku. The boy grunted and stood his ground, wincing as the birds tore at him in their hundreds. “Techukara, now!”

Tsushin’s third eye bulged wide. Static stabbed at his mind, and Tegata cried in pain. His flow ceased immediately, as did the avian assault. He clutching at his head, doubling over. How long had it been since he had felt that horrible sensation? The pain didn’t bring about tears, but the memories did. Bango wasted no time in closing the gap, delivering an empowered backwards roundhouse to the side of his face.

Powerstrike

加叩 Kakō

Tegata shot across the causeway, smashing through the glass barrier on one side and dropping like a stone into the carpet of bodies below.

The corpses slightly cushioned the fall. Tegata bounced off the discarded sacks of flesh and rolled to a stop, but didn’t stay down for long. Bango soared toward him, hot in pursuit. The static in Tegata's head persisted, but the blinding initial intensity had since faded. Psychic energy sparked weakly along his skin, but his flow remained disjointed. He knew how Tsushin’s Jammer worked better than anyone. He was more resistant to its effects, but not immune. It wasn’t worth the risk to use Shadow Puppet anymore. There was no guarantee his summons would succeed, so long as Tsushin had him in her sights.

The sight of her up on the rooftop sent a different kind of bullet straight through his chest. The look in her eyes, or the lack thereof. She didn’t recognise him. She couldn’t. No life remained within those eyes anymore. The pit in his stomach dropped further still.

Was he already too late for her as well?

Tegata felt the psychic signature of his frogs grow further away. He’d managed to cover for the girls so far with his movements. He’d directed the wave of shadows down the closest flight of stairs and out through a set of double doors. It would dissipate once it had reached a set distance away, but that should be enough. All that was left to do was deal with these two.

Bango landed roughly opposite Tegata, but stumbled as the uneven mass of bodies shifted underfoot. The terrain had changed. Best to make use of it. Tegata shifted sideways until Bango stood between him and Tsushin. With the line of sight broken, Tegata’s psychic energy sparked in a wave. He feinted forwards, putting his weight on his right foot and throwing a right hand jab at Bango’s face. He caught it and threw him off balance. Tegata anticipated this. Using the momentum, he flipped sideways and kicked out at the peak of the arc, driving his heel into Bango’s cheek. The kick sent him sprawling. This was his chance.

Without Bango to obstruct Tsushin’s vision any longer, the static flashed back into Tegata’s mind. He winced, but did not falter. His psychic abilities may have been jammed, but that wasn’t all he’d been trained in. There was no path ahead of him. All he had to do was utilise the environment. Kicking off a bench at a sprint, Tegata took a couple steps up the wall before gravity took hold. Turning about face, he kicked off the brickwork and dove towards the outstretched metal arm of a lamppost. The metal seared his palms, his forearms screamed from the tension, but Tegata didn’t let go. Swinging his legs underneath, he gathered speed. At the peak of his swing, he flipped back around, then vaulted off the post to climb up onto the causeway once more. He was within ten metres of Tsushin now. The girl glared down at him, having lay down her rifle.

“Tsushin, please—” Tegata approached, palms raised— “Can you hear me? It’s Tegata. I’m not here to hurt you. Please. I know you’re in there.”

Tsushin showed nothing. No recollection, no remorse, no emotion. Her dark hair, once luscious, hung limp around her paling face, her cheeks gaunt as though wasting away. Jumping down from her vantage, she landed opposite him and flexed her hands. Tegata heard something mechanical click, and his jaw clenched. He took another step forward.

“I promised that I would save you.” Tegata clenched both fists by his side. “I promised, didn’t I? I failed. I couldn’t save you then, and that’s my fault. They took you away, and I couldn’t do anything.”

He expected the jamming to resume in full strength, yet Tegata felt nothing. The static from earlier had lifted; his flow resumed, uninhibited. Tsushin stood there, blankly. A valve somewhere hissed. The girl idled, rolling her neck and shoulder with such fluidity that they may as well have been oiled. A miserable smile clawed its way back onto Tegata’s face as he took another step forward, hot tracks of tears leaking down the sides of his face.

“Even now, just like back then, I can’t do anything when it comes to you. I’m no saviour, am I?” He reached out, before his hand and face both fell into shadow. “I’m sorry.”