—
Chapter Forty Three
Foible
—
Tone set the phone down.
“She’s doing alright. Pretty badly burned, especially on her back. I told her the best thing for it is honey.” He folded his arms and let out an extremely deep sigh. “She called me a mentally unstable health nut and hung up after the doctor came in. You get all that?”
“What?” Ren blinked, looking away from the computer screen. “Uh, yeah, I got…”
He abruptly swiped away the piece of paper from under his elbow as Tone tentatively reached for it. “I’m trying to do research here, can we talk about this later?”
“Just let me know where to send her once she’s out.” Tone pocketed his hands, trying to hide his having seen the word FOCUS written multiple times across the paper. “We can’t afford to have her doing anything until she’s better with this maniac running around.”
“I’ll think about it.” Ren cradled his forehead in his hands and stared into the keyboard until Tone slowly turned around and walked away, taking a seat against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
The paper fell from his grip, landing at the base of the keyboard and pulling his eyes towards it. They stared with half-awake haziness until they slowly widened, drawing his eyes back to the screen. “Tell, uh… Race, to come back by bus to the- to that park and I’ll pick her up there.”
“She’s not leaving just yet.” Tone raised an eyebrow as he watched Ren scramble upwards, stuff the paper in his pocket, and struggle into his sweater. “You going somewhere?”
“Yep.” Ren fidgeted as he waited for the heavy door to slowly roll open. “I’m taking Rook. Call me as soon as she leaves.” He squeezed out the barely-open door and bolted up the stairs.
—
“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy or something.”
“I’m looking at you like you’re lying in a hospital bed with a broken neck.” Race replied, doing her best to appear unbothered by her back. “You really think he’ll just pop into existence whenever you need him?”
“I’m convinced.” Fumihito’s face beamed in spite of the neck brace holding it at an unflattering angle. “Who else can this be, this inexplicable cicada, defying physics and moving faster than the eye can see, but the reincarnated spirit of one of my ancestors?”
“Why doesn’t he pop into existence to explain himself?” Race leaned slightly against the foot of the hospital bed, her fingers digging into the plastic of the frame. “It could just be coincidence that this thing showed up when it did.”
“You need to have more faith.” Fumihito pointed an accusing finger at Race, who turned away with a slow blink and froze as her eyes made contact with the window. “It’s no wonder there are less and less people willing to believe- hang on.”
“The boss is coming here.” Fumihito set his phone down and wiped a sleeve across his brow. “And my wife. I think you’d probably better-”
“…Go.” He sighed, looking up at the empty hospital room. “I don’t think I could handle more than one star reporter if this is what it’s like.”
—
“I’ve been thinking.”
“My condolences.” Ren muttered as loudly as an under-the-breath comment could be muttered.
“Why hasn’t my presence on the train gotten all over social media yet?” Rook continued, unfazed by Ren’s quip. “We should have seen everyone reporting on it by now. That was a pretty big fight that happened.”
“Rook, the government was all over that and the hotel before anyone had the chance to get the story out.” Ren glanced over his shoulder at the haniwa. “Anything that might’ve gotten posted to social media was smothered the instant it got any sort of attention. Maybe something’ll leak out eventually, but as of right now, it’s under wraps.”
“Then… What are we doing here?” Rook glanced about the rooftop, the haniwa scraping against the rough gravel. “If you’re trying to see past that barricade of tarps you’re in a poor spot to do it.”
“I only want to know one thing.” He turned back towards the ruined tower. “That tiger statue, the one in the middle of the stairs. I need to know if it’s still there or if it’s been moved out.”
“That’s easy enough.” Rook lifted off the ground, disappearing once he reached what would be Ren’s standing height were he standing. A metal pipe stood in his place, and Ren had to scramble up off his stomach to keep it from falling over. After a moment, however, it abruptly disappeared, with Rook slowly descending to Ren’s seated position.
“It’s still there,” He sighed, turning to face his superior with delicate precision. “But the head’s cracked off. Must’ve been broken by something in the fall. Anyway, we can’t go in there and get it with the military everywhere, so-”
Ren took a packet of ramen out from his suit coat pocket. “Get it for me.”
After a moment of hesitation, Rook abruptly disappeared, the massive head of the marble tiger shoving aside a great quantity of air around it in taking his place. He immediately returned, bumping into Ren’s hand before turning to look at the statue’s grotesque noggin.
“Ah.” Ren leaned forward and peered inside the snarling maw, feeling the sharp lip of a smooth hole leading from the back of its mouth through to the flat, uneven edge where it had broken off. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Let’s get back home before someone finds us.”
“Ren?” Rook drifted ever so slightly closer as his superior staggered upwards. “Is it worth it? I mean, coming into conflict with the government… With all that’s happened, shouldn’t we just lay low for a little while?”
“This is the last of the Kumagai collection, the only piece that was present at the convention center the night Wild died.” Ren stared into the lightless sockets of the silver mask. “Us transporting the whole tiger is out of the question. If we let the government cart it off somewhere, Wild’s mission will remain unfulfilled. No matter what it takes, Rook, I’m going to-”
The door leading to the roof suddenly swung open, revealing the marble tiger head alone on the roof. A glance sent through the hinge of the door revealed two obvious footprints in the loose gravel leading nowhere.
The gloved hand slowly closed the door again.
—