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Chapter Thirty Five
Dolor Odeum
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“That’s Ren’s chocolate.”
Race’s head turned just enough to reveal the mask on her face, her eye flatly glaring from across her shoulder. The door to the apartment suddenly sank an inch into the floor, rolling back towards the wall for a brief moment before abruptly reversing the motion and clicking back into place.
Race swung her legs over the edge of the roof, seated on a raised edge meant as some level of privacy for the building’s theoretical tenants. She peeled the wrapper away from the long chocolate bar and cracked nearly half of it off with her teeth, letting the candy dissolve in her mouth as the first few streaks of color tore through the black clouds.
“You plan on telling him about that?”
Race clenched her jaw for a moment before tipping her head towards the street below and forcing out a very sharp and subtle nod. Stuffing the rest of the bar in her mouth, she balled up the wrapper and chucked it off the roof, flinching as it bounced off the back of her head.
An odd clay figure floated back towards the rooftop, gently resting on the ledge next to her. It vaguely resembled a warrior, with short stubby limbs wrapped around its cylindrical torso. The sculptures were collectively known as haniwa, although none of the variations of the terracotta figure were designed with broken faces, the gaping hole left behind covered by the pointed silver mask it wore.
“Ren said you went too fast.”
Race looked away for a brief moment, her stone-like features softening ever so slightly. Despite her reluctance to discuss the events surrounding Wild’s death, she knew Rook wasn’t asking for her benefit.
“I told him that because it was easier.” She turned her gaze out towards the violent sky, watching an orange tear in the dark blanket that covered it grow ever larger. “Those eyes aren’t just eyes. They go deeper and deeper the more you look into them. I tried to go faster than them, but I couldn’t. They were too fast… The time it would take to get to them kept falling inside. They kept going on forever.”
“And that’s what happened to Wild.” She gave up trying to fight against the urge to wrap her arms around herself. “As soon as he lit up, the eyes drew him in. They drew in everything around them, too. The air, the world itself bent towards them. I tried to move faster, but… I couldn’t save him.”
“And that’s what happened to me.” Rook’s voice was melancholic.
“That’s what would have happened to Tone if you hadn’t swapped with him.” Race looked up at the silver mask as her features grew softer. “He would have gotten his body stolen away and be left trapped in his mask if you hadn’t pulled him away. You saved him from that.”
“Hmph.” Rook snorted, his voice descending from self-pity to an ill-fitting contempt that made Race do a double take. “Would have been better if I was dead.”
“What?”
“Didn’t hear me?” Rook barely turned to acknowledge her presence. “I’ve never saved anyone from anything. My sacrificing for Tone put him in the direct bath of the blast, and now he’s in constant pain across his entire body. He’ll never see his own face again because his mask is fused to it.”
“I tried to swap with Corey and sacrifice myself for him, too, and now he’s in the hospital with a broken neck and I’m once again back where I was before.” His voice grew more and more venomous as he continued. “Nothing I ever do has turned out right. Ren can’t see that, so nothing will change, and I’ll keep getting everyone killed.”
As Race opened her mouth to respond, the terracotta figure abruptly disappeared, a small and clearly frightened bird sitting in its place. It took a moment to gather its bearings once more before abruptly flying away.
—
“The heck is this?”
Race looked back over her shoulder at Ren, his hand limply pointing at a white and brown streak on the floor. There were heavy rings under his eyes, and although he was putting in a clear effort to look fine, the white strips of tape over his cheekbone and chin made his slight limping and hesitations in movement stick out like a sore thumb.
“Bird poo,” Race began, but seeing Ren’s expression immediately become exasperated chose to get directly to the point. “Rook and I were up on the roof.”
“She ate your chocolate.” Rook interjected, his voice still carrying some of the venom from before. Ren’s puzzled glance did not have the time to grow into anything more, as he suddenly dropped the suit jacket he carried over his shoulder and rummaged about his pockets for a moment.
“I gotta get to work.” He pocketed the phone he had removed for a glance at the time, scooping his jacket up off the floor and haphazardly stuffing his dress shirt into the waist of his pants. “Race, could you clean th-”
“-at…” He trailed off as Race set the bottle of cleaner down on the table. slowly returning her mask to its pocket. “I’ll drop you off on the way. Take it easy, Rook.”
“Whatever you say, sir.” Rook replied, the sting in his words once against drawing Ren’s attention. Race moved in between the pair before anything could come from it, scooping up a folded suitcoat and opening the heavy door. Ren stepped through the portal as Race sealed it behind him, neither one feeling particularly comfortable with sending Rook any kind of glance in reply.
“Hmph.” Rook grumbled as the room descended into silence once again.
—
Ren grimaced as the side door squealed on its hinges. It took him a moment to realize the noise did not come from the hinges or any part of the door.
Moving as quickly as his cumbersome rubber overalls would allow, Ren sidled into the loop and froze in place as his eyes landed on Kohaku, collapsed onto her knees in the middle of the floor, several crab halves strewn around her. It was to her benefit that she did not wear makeup, or it would have completely washed off her face from the sheer volume of tears she was producing.
“I can’t help it.” She gulped, trying to recompose herself as Ren dropped to his knees next to her and lightly gripped her shoulders. “He’s dead, he’s dead… His little smile, the way he would-” She gritted her teeth in an attempt to fight off another wave of tears.
“Ren!” Another voice whispered, much harsher and much smaller than Kohaku’s. Ren slowly turned towards the rolling garbage bin, and after a moment he grabbed it by the base and rolled it out of the way. A very short man stood behind it, dressed in a three-piece suit and sporting a military-style flat top. His typically ruddy and approachable face, however, was marred by clear and unmistakable gravity which seemed to indicate the change in hairstyle was more than just a cosmetic choice. “What took you so long?”
“You could’ve called.” Ren’s brow lowered, unable to hide his offense with Bekko’s popping in at such an inopportune time. Kohaku blinked and breathed, trying to slow the beat of her wounded heart as she eyed the littlest member of the Kin Gin Rin.
“You should know we don’t do things like that.” Bekko replied, pocketing his hands as he stepped forwards. “Oisim needs you, son. He needs you and Tone to go to Oroshimachi station immediately. Something important has come up, something we can’t handle on our own.”
“If you can’t tell Kohaku about it,” Ren breathed through his nostrils as heavily as he could manage, finding it much easier to stand up to Bekko than he could ever consider resisting the heavy gaze of Oisim. “Then you can forget all about it.”
Bekko rolled his eyes, scratching at his cheek as he glared at Ren. “All right. Someone’s derailed a train, Ren. A train full of passengers. And the way it looks right now, that someone is Hawk.”
—
There was a sickening stillness in the room.
Race tried to take her eyes off of the glass in front of her, but found her vision continually returning to the supine figure. Several thin tubes ran under the surgical gown he wore, an oxygen mask was adhered to his face, and yet despite being surrounded by the best medical technology on the planet, there was an uncertainty as to what would be the outcome. Still, Corey’s delicate appearance remained almost angelic despite being wreathed in tubes and drowned in the obnoxiously bright fluorescent light above him.
“You didn’t answer your phone.” She mumbled.
The figure turned to glare out of the corner of his eye at her, the glowing white light reflecting off his eyes and the small round dent in his metal mask being the only real indication of who the silhouette was. “Wasn’t going to risk disrupting the equipment by having it on me. I’ve been smothering the signals yours is giving off since you walked in the room.”
“Ren needs you. Oroshimachi station. Asap.” Race sighed, pushing her hands further into her pockets as she reverted her gaze back towards the glass. “Take my phone wherever you put yours and hurry to Ren.”
“I’m not leaving.” Tone’s voice echoed in his throat, turning his head so both eyes could stare into hers. “Tell Ren to find somebody else for this.”
“Hawk is back.” Race replied, not bothering to face Tone as she spoke. “Somehow he went and derailed an entire train full of people almost right outside the station. I can’t outspeed the eye he’s got.”
A long silence followed, culminating in Tone slowly rising from his seat and walking past Race, casually accepting the phone she handed to him without bothering to glance at his passing. She leaned against the wall as the sickening silence resumed, unable to take her eyes off the youngest Wild Mask on the other side of the barrier.
—