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Chapter Forty Five
Diaphanous
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Ren’s fingertips brushed across the side of the bus.
The car he clung to was not getting close enough to allow an exchange of its unintended passenger, and any major move he made ran the risk of potentially alerting both drivers to his presence. As his grip strength began to wane, however, his reflection in the bus window caught his eye.
The screen he stared at over his shoulder played the missing footage from the hotel, and Ren met his eyes in the screen as they surrounded his perspective from the rear bumper of the car. He felt his heart sinking inside itself as his past self crouched down in front of Corey, ruffling his golden hair as his words of reassurance rang in his mind like the messenger of death.
The black skull-shaped mask was waiting for him as his eyes returned to the vehicle. Standing with one gun in his hand, Usul stooped down, the golden lines in his mask revealing where it had cracked and splintered.
Ren’s eyes widened as the gun was aimed not at his face, but towards the roof of the car at the driver. The eyes that shined out of the dark eye sockets made no request for him to follow, stating no ultimatum. The next move was his to make.
Reaching towards his pocket, Ren’s fingers barely touched the Demon eye inside before his hands slammed into the roof of the bus, slowing his abrupt slide across it. Pushing himself up on one knee, Ren buckled back as Usul’s heel smashed into the forehead of his mask.
Spinning around, Ren slowly climbed to his feet as Usul effortlessly vaulted up the side of the bus, which suddenly began ascending. Ren’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the roof as the rear of the bus tipped upwards, the entire vehicle picking up speed as it lifted into the air. Usul crouched down, sliding until he disappeared over the windshield. The reflection of the bus on passing windows revealed he had gripped the wiper blades, holding on as the vehicle continuously accelerated.
Usul was halfway over the edge of the roof before it suddenly shifted, the force propelling it forwards ceasing. The moment after, both Ren and the vehicle disappeared, replaced by a static silhouette with crossed arms floating in midair. He made no movement, giving Usul nothing to match his timing to and therefore no way to stop his descent.
The vehicle abruptly returned, taking the figure’s place and falling at a speed quite close to the one the last Pangolin managed. Ren watched on, peering from over the edge of the rooftop he had been unceremoniously dumped on before the static figure reappeared at his side.
“I miss being tall.” Rook mumbled, turning the mannequin he rested upon to face his compatriot. "At least it’s got a suit, so it fits with the rest of us. How’d you get on the bus?
“Tone-” Ren coughed, feeling his ribs as he staggered upwards. “Where’s Tone?”
“He was working on hitting Sendai’s power grid to stop the footage, but it looks like he’s going screen by screen.” Rook turned the mannequin again to face the city below him, as one by one the massive screens and electronic billboards flickered and fizzled out, occasionally spewing sparks as they fried themselves. “Did you get to break the tiger?”
“No,” Ren grumbled, waving Rook away. “Can’t we deal with one problem at a time? I need to get back to the apartment pronto. Can you get me-”
Ren blinked as his surroundings abruptly switched to that of the apartment interior, barely reacting in time to catch the bag of clothes that dropped into his arms. The subtle inhale that followed drew his head towards the open bedroom door.
“All this time.” Race looked back over her shoulder at Ren, whose eyes glowed in the darkness as they landed on the empty cavity above his open bed. “You had the Demon all this time.”
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It had been at least three hours.
Kohaku had to keep telling herself it had not been three million billion years that she had been sitting, cross-legged, directly aside her father, whose muscular and impossibly straight back so greatly contrasted her tired curved spine, which had given up trying to look nearly as perfect half an hour in. Goshiki stood behind her, back against the wall, his beady eyes snapping towards even the slightest noise.
Right as Kohaku decided to prop her head up on her knuckles and sleep through the strange ceremony, the heavy door at the opposite end of the small room creaked open, a man in low-ranking military attire slinking through the gap. He took a similarly stoic seat on the opposite side of Oisim, speaking to him with such a hushed voice that Kohaku could not place any of the words he spoke, but ending the message with an envelope shoved towards him, its very minimal contents clattering together as he presented it.
The silence and gravity with which Oisim retrieved the envelope immediately drew Kohaku’s groggy focus, watching intently as Oisim slowly placed the base of the envelope against his forehead. It had barely made contact before his stoic gaze was broken in undisguised shock.
“Isoganakere ba narimasen.” He abruptly rose to his feet, the soldier at his side following suit and quickly opening the door. Kohaku looked up at the sharp features of her father, watching as the surprise left his eyes and the cold, unfeeling emptiness that filled his sunken cheeks returned. “You will come too.”
Kohaku couldn’t decide if she should be offended at Oisim assuming she didn’t know Japanese or if he did know and was using English to hide the message from the soldier. “What do I need to come for?”
“You will convince him.” He held out his massive, gnarled hand, pulling her up abruptly the moment she accepted it. “He does not realize what he is about to do. You will break him, tonight, or else we will all be broken.”
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“Ren.”
Ren kept silent, his eyes trained on the opposite wall.
“Tone will kill you.”
The silence continued. Race’s fingers trembled, desperately fighting back the urge to pull Ren around and make him face her.
“I know you want him back. I… If there was a way to bring him back, I’d do it, no matter what it takes. But this isn’t it.” She stepped closer, pausing her approach as the muscles in Ren’s neck suddenly tightened. “This is what killed him. I don’t know what the Demon told you, but he is the one that killed Wild.”
“It doesn’t stop at Wild.” Ren muttered.
Race looked down at her fingers, briefly feeling a sleeve that wasn’t there. “…He said he was going to the woodshop. That you would meet him there to complete things.” She eyed the back of his head as it drew ever so slightly towards the door.
“Whatever you have for him, give it to me.” She raised her open hand, fighting to lock her jaw and keep as little emotion from slipping through as she could. “I’ll destroy it. Tone doesn’t have to know. Please, Ren. I’ll stop you if you don’t give it to me. But you have to make the choice.”
“You have to let go.”
CRUNCH
His eyes slowly traveled down to where his hand now clutched the middle of Race’s stomach, the metal piping beneath her shirt crumpling under his grip. For a brief moment his pupils went wide, looking in terror at the tightened cloth revealed the outline of the ruined mechanical intestine, but as his gaze traveled back up to meet Race’s equally horrified expression, he could feel his jaw lock.
“I’m getting Corey back.” Ren hissed, leaning in as his fist tightened even further, oblivious to the golden glow emanating from his right pocket. “And you won’t stop me.”
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