[Daffodil Like Yourself] Chapter 8
Aug. 4th, 2019 04:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morphogenesisnote: Light is quoting Damon Knight from his review of Heinlein's "If This Goes On--" Aoi is quoting "All You Zombies."
Chapter Eight
Clover denied Akane a handshake, but she had to agree the plan would work. Plan B was so simple; she’d suggested to Akane they let themselves be caught because Hongou’s ego wouldn’t allow himself to kill them before he could gloat, and he might even put them together with their brothers before long. The two waited in the dark confinement room while Clover played with the screwdriver, pondering what she’d have to do with it but knowing she would and could.
She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs, and sighed. “Hey Akane?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you come here?” She looked anywhere but at Akane, from the thin beds to the dirty floor and the corners of the ceiling. The cold room was more welcoming than her own thoughts. “Why do you care what happens to us?” Junpei had defended her once saying her reasons were as big as the whole world, and Clover remembered that back in Rhizome-9 Akane’s reasons certainly sounded important enough. But Clover couldn’t connect that woman with the Akane in front of her who offered her cookies and wine and who was excited to get married. (She’d taken her ring off before boarding lest anything happen to it.) “You can say anything and I won’t get mad. I just want to know.” Her words sounded cool as bubbles rising to the surface from underwater.
Akane considered her question, head tilted so her hair fell over one shoulder, and then said, “Because I can do things nobody else on Earth can.”
“You mean you will do them,” Clover muttered, twirling the screwdriver. “There are a lot of other ways to get things done.”
Akane looked up at her with a small self-effacing smile. “When this is over I’d like to hear more about how you see the world.” She sounded genuine and it was enough to make Clover resentful. “In another life, I would’ve liked to be like you.
“But as for why I care about you specifically: As long as one of us doesn’t have justice, none of us do. The survivors of the First Nonary Game, I mean.” She cleared her throat; it sounded dry and strained.
Clover let those words sink in and then said, “Does carrying that big head around make your neck hurt?”
“That you can say that makes me happy.”
“I swear I never want to see you again when this is over.” The moment Clover spoke those words she knew she didn’t mean them like that, to be so mean or harsh. Maybe she could do without seeing a single esper ever again, but Akane’s answer had taken her aback and she didn’t hate it. ‘I’ll tell Light about that,’ she thought. ‘I wonder what he’ll think.’
Akane didn’t reply.
They both lifted their heads at the sound of footsteps. Nodding to each other, they got up to enact their agreed upon plan. Freedom was easily won; the guard wasn’t expecting Akane to bite him and Clover to body check him; a small thing could fell a bigger thing with enough force and momentum, and they were free.
Clover and Akane took his keys (he carried no weapon) and ran, trying every door. They moved with urgency despite the confidence that they’d contacted the outside world and local law enforcement, and planned contractor help was on the way; they had of course hoped not to go before the threat on the Defiant had been neutralized but now it was time for the contractors to fulfill their end of the bargain hazard pay or no. Clover bit her lip as she and Akane hid in another confinement room as footsteps passed; only one or two people again. They didn’t need to speak, just looked at each other and then back to the door.
Continuing on, they stumbled on to the great discovery: their original goal and now split between this and their personal one. It was all personal, Clover thought, but she wasn’t prepared for the disgust, awe, and clinical fascination she felt when they arrived in the makeshift hospital room. Two rows of hospital beds holding six people hooked up to IVs, continuously pumping mystery fluids into them.
Clover twisted a bottle towards her, noting the Soporil label. Due to association with Cradle, after another company purchased the patent Soporil had been taken off the market, reformulated, and distributed under a new name, her brother had said during his phase of tracking everything Cradle Pharmaceutical-related after the Second Nonary Game. When he stopped tracking Clover assumed he was more comfortable.
“Don’t touch anything,” Akane whispered, “We don’t know what this is for.”
“It’s a sedative,” Clover said matter of factly. “Stop worrying.” She looked over one person’s face—Ami, despite the shaved hair and pale skin and weight loss, Clover recognized her from a small scar by her ear she’d said her sister gave her as kids—and noted how very tired she still looked. “I think he wants them to stay asleep so they can’t run away.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.” Clover shook Ami but she didn’t even murmur.
Akane waved her over from her place by an empty bed. “This one is still warm.” She spread her hands out on the sheets and felt the pillow, rolling the fabric between her fingers and searching intently. “It’s silly to think, but…”
“You wanna know if Junpei was here?”
“Yes. But he must be alive,” she said.
“Yeah. He’s supernaturally lucky.” Clover looked at her boot and shifted the screwdriver inside. “You want me to go back to the control room and let them know where the espers are?”
Akane hesitated before looking back at Clover. “Can you stay with me?”
Clover blinked at her, turned her head away, and muttered, “You’re so needy,” as she nodded.
Passing the beds they found something worse:
The spy's body was twisted and his face a pained rictus, limbs locked and face grimacing. It took Clover’s breath to see. This death had not been a peaceful one and she had no idea what had happened. He didn't look beaten to death and he certainly wasn't exploded. And then he'd been left here. She didn't know him yet felt bad.
Akane bent down and started examining his body, trying to pull his arms straight and looking in his staring eyes and wrenching his jaw open so she could—gross—smell his breath. "I don't think it's cyanide," she muttered. "Arsenic, acetone, antifreeze, oleander, foxglove? Not bleach and it doesn't look like acetaminophen or morphine..."
"Strychnine?"
"Huh?"
"Strychnine works fast and gives you convulsions and rigidity." Clover played with the hem of her skirt. "And it's almost definitely fatal unless you get treatment fast. Like within thirty minutes fast."
"Your brother knows that?"
"I know that. I like mystery novels. Strychnine was a popular murder weapon in old ones."
"Oh!" Akane retrieved two baggies from his pocket. "Activated charcoal and phenobarbital. Poison treatment and anticonvulsant." She frowned. "Why didn't he save himself?"
"...Maybe he couldn't. Can't you see Hongou, like, waiting until it was too late then mocking him by giving him the solution when he couldn't move?"
"He enjoys others’ fear," Akane said flatly, looking at the body. She was far away, Clover knew. If what she knew was true, Akane had beef with Free the Soul but there was nobody in the world she hated more than Gentarou Hongou. "Yes." She held on to the items. "Let's go."
With a promise to the others to return, they left and made it up to the next deck, passing a cabin and a dining hall, and coming to a door at the end which sounded like chaos lay within. The voices carried and Clover gasped, “It’s—”
Akane breathed, “Niichan.”
Clover retrieved her screwdriver. When they entered she swiveled her head, panning the room for her number one target, and saw Seven, Junpei (unconscious on his back against one wall, like he’d been thoughtfully placed out of the way), Aoi, and her most important person. She found her brother kneeling with his back to her, head up. She tried to call for Light but what came out was a cry as she leapt on him, taking them both to the floor. He rolled over and she took him in her arms, squeezing him like she’d never let go.
His voice came out in a sob: “Clover.” His body went limp suddenly like he was so exhausted and could finally let it out with her. “Augh, my arm—Clover please—”
Clover realized too late that sob had been one of pain and apologized, backing off of him, barely able to see him through tears. “What did you do?”
Light beckoned to her with his good arm and she went to him, pressed her forehead to his and only stopped because he kissed the top of her head before holding them back together. His motions said there was much he needed to say to her but they pressed on him so much he’d lost his voice.
“It’s okay now,” she said gently. She saved him and now they had each other so they could do anything. Behind her she’d heard the Kurashikis brief reunion, stymied because Aoi was oddly curt—Clover turned her head and said, “Oh my God,” at what she saw.
Aoi shook his head. “Hey, busy now,” he said and leaned over Seven, trying to put more pressure on his wound and the red spot seeping through his clothing as it grew around Aoi’s hands.
Below him Seven groaned his chest heaved piteously, but he tried to reach up and touch Aoi’s cheek as if telling him it would be fine.
“You took the deal! What are you waiting for? Seven needs to go ashore now!” Aoi said to Hongou, who got up from his seat—and was amused when the Fields got up and stood between them. Clover cried out when he shoved her aside and she fell hard to the floor, the ship rocking up as if to meet her. How far from shore were they? Was it too late and Hongou knew it? Clover rolled onto her back and lashed out, digging her heels into his upper thigh instead of his balls. His kick in her ribs had a lot more strength.
Enraged, Light clawed at his face and fell heavily when he was punched in the stomach. His scream of agony when Hongou stomped on his bad arm broke Clover’s heart, and she tried to get up again but was kicked back down. She held tight to the screwdriver and managed to scratch him when he tried to take it from her, making him hiss and back off.
He slowly approached Aoi, retrieved a gun from within his coat, and pressed it to the back of Aoi’s head; Aoi’s shoulders and arms went rigid, relaxed, went rigid, relaxed.
“Get away from him,” Akane threatened, moving towards him with murderous purpose though she held no weapon.
Through the pain Clover watched this go on. She tried to get up and whimpered before sinking back down; she’d exceeded her limit and was paying for it now. She tried to store what energy she had and told herself Akane had this. She wanted to throw her the screwdriver but couldn’t find the strength.
When Akane tried to grab his arm they grappled briefly before he repulsed her. “I promise you this is very much loaded. Now don’t move or I’ll cover you in his brain matter.” He bumped the back of Aoi’s head and Aoi didn’t move but to convulse again. “Are you starting to feel unwell?” He snatched Aoi by the hair and yanked him off of Seven. He stepped on him and held him in place with his foot.
Aoi seized properly for the first time, arms still rigid, and Clover forced herself to awkwardly crabwalk to her feet while Light dragged himself along on his good arm and knees.
Hongou said, “It’s too late for you and your sister. You lose your life and she loses everything else. Does that seem fair to you?”
“No, what’s fair is that it’s too late for you too.” Light rolled onto his back, unable to sit up, and his voice shook with pain but he persisted speaking. “A-are you starting to feel tense?”
Hongou stilled with understanding, and Clover watched a small miracle: a muscle spasm in his face. “I see.”
“I knew we couldn’t trust you. I switched our glasses and then spilled mine to distract you,” Light said, eyes squeezed shut. After Clover knelt down and described in English the symptoms she was seeing, Light nodded. He patted her knee and whispered one thing to her that told her what she had to do.
Clover looked to Akane, terror in her eyes, and gestured to her pocket.
Hongou didn’t reply, he was too busy tearing open a packet he’d retrieved from his pocket and cramming its black powdery contents into his mouth, swallowing like he was a snake with a rat. “But it’s too bad that activated charcoal can mitigate unabsorbed poison and I’ll live long enough to seek treatment.”
Choking, Aoi was caught in a full seize and Seven reached for him, holding his stomach with one hand and Aoi’s shoulder with the other. He tried to speak but what came out was a strained whine.
“I’ll kill you,” Akane said lowly, coldly, and approached him like an unstoppable ghost. “I’ll kill you.” Lost in her anger she reached for his gun with both hands and he hit her with the butt hard enough to knock her away. He grabbed her by the throat and tossed her so she smacked into a heavy table, hitting her ribs and collapsing to her knees holding herself.
“I could care less about what he promised me.” Hongou pressed his weight down on Aoi’s stomach. “I’ve been promised more by better, although I do intend to take my share. As far as your people know, everyone aboard will be recovered alive. By the time they find all of you I’ll be gone.” He gasped and his legs settled into a sawhorse stance above Aoi, who lolled with the ship as it turned hard. For the first time his composure cracked and Clover could see he was afraid, which she used to move.
Light grabbed her ankle but she gently removed his hand.
“You won’t,” Clover said as she approached him, right hand in her dress pocket. She stood out of his limited reach and watched his face wash out and terror settle in as he realized he couldn’t move. She slipped under his arm quick as a mongoose and stabbed him under the armpit with a screwdriver, pushing her weight into it so it penetrated deep into his flesh.
Blood welled up and spread through his sleeve in study spurts as she’d nicked his brachial artery. He howled and she shoved him, using the momentum to yank the screwdriver out, before turning to Aoi and dragging him by the ankles out of his reach. In a rush Akane crawled to them and pulled her brother into her lap. While Hongou yowled on the floor from blood loss and the pain of poison setting in, she retrieved the real charcoal from her boot and forced it into Aoi’s mouth, rubbing his throat to help his swallow it, and then did the same with phenobarbital.
Struggling to breathe and fully seizing again, Aoi made terrifying wheezing noises, beyond speech. “You can’t die before you see me get married—you can’t die before we finally find you someone.” Akane held a relaxing but still tense Aoi closer on her lap. “Please hold on, niichan, we can’t do this without you.”
When Aoi’s eyes were open, Clover looked into them and saw naked, unfiltered fear the likes of which she didn’t know the other could feel. The realization that maybe it was too late and he’d gambled and lost and his last words were to someone he hated, currently bleeding and violently tossing away from them.
"G-Good job," Clover said. "Really. You did everything you could. I'll tell everyone. And you tell them too when you’re okay." Why wouldn't the drugs help already? Aoi's involuntary, agonizing contractions were harder to watch by the second.
“Well don’t go down the long blue tunnel yet, you won’t meet Kilgore Trout,” Light rasped, having crawled to their sides, and softly patted Aoi’s arm.
"Come near them and we'll see each other in Hell," Seven said lowly, and Clover looked up to see he was struggling to point Hongou's fallen gun at his back as he stopped feet away from them. Clover made a slashing motion with the bloody screwdriver.
Hongou heaved. "You needed someone like me. I made you everything you are," he aimed at them all. He was convulsing facedown in his next breath.
When rescuers found them, they saw the four survivors of the First Nonary Game still huddled together, talking quietly as they nursed the injured, speaking in comforting tones, sometimes touching.
**
The nurses wouldn’t let her go with Light or see him right away, which was nonsense, by his own admission he was hurt but not dying. Clover sat a seat apart from Akane in the hospital waiting room; they’d both declined getting checked out in favor of waiting for their brothers, Seven, and Junpei to get cleared and Akane had not stopped crying since they walked in the doors. Clover pinned her hands between her knees and rocked slightly, remembering how lonely she felt whenever she thought Light was gone.
She looked over and saw Akane sniffling into her hands, her face redder and snot still on her top lip. She didn’t look like she was faking… Clover felt pity for her in the moment and put her feelings aside to do the human thing.
She hopped into the next seat and gave Akane a hug. Then she kept a hand on her knee until the doctor came out and said, one at a time, that the boys were going to be okay. Once that was confirmed Akane stood up, stretched, and went outside. Quietly, Clover followed her and watched her make her way around the edge of a parking lot until she reached a car in the middle of a row. She stood at the driver’s side window and spoke to whoever was inside, and then stepped back and watched them drive off. When she turned her head she caught Clover and waved.
Clover jogged over to her, wincing in the cold air and said, “Are you leaving them?”
“What? No, I had to talk to someone.” Akane wrapped her arms around herself and didn’t explain further. “Someone will give you a ride to wherever you want once your brother is discharged.”
Clover lowered her voice and said, “Aren’t you worried SOIS will follow you here?”
Akane shook her head. “There’s more than one hospital in Baltimore, and now there’s going to be more than one Akane Kurashiki in Baltimore. By the time niichan, Junpei, and Seven are ready to leave I can be long gone.”
“I mean. They found you before.”
“I know.”
Clover held her hand out. “Give me your phone.” When Akane tried to play dumb about not having a phone, Clover pointed to her pocket. “You’ve gotta have one by now.” When Akane conceded and gave the phone, Clover called a number she couldn’t forget if she tried: SOIS’ main office. She watched Akane start with anxiety once she realized who Clover had called, and then watched that anxious face smooth over as Clover said Crash Keys was definitely headed westbound on I-695 towards Liberty Road; in between tying her up and bragging about her evil plans, Akane had explained they were headed to a hideout in Western Maryland as opposed to another major city. Clover herself was free now and didn’t want to meet with any available agents. Yes, she was sure.
Clover hung up the phone and handed it back to Akane wordlessly. Akane held it to her chest and looked at her with fondness before returning inside.
**
When Junpei woke up Akane was there and her first words were “Good morning.” She pressed her cheek to his forehead, waiting for the nurse to step out to kiss him. He choked down the terror he’d almost died a while ago, but how much he missed her swelled his throat shut and froze his breath. She kissed him a dozen more times and explained he overdosed on anesthesia but with no severe aftereffects, and his ankle had been repaired. His recovery was going to be so much smoother than Seven and Aoi’s.
He listened in disbelief as Akane told him Aoi had almost had a cardiac arrest that morning and had been poisoned. When Junpei could hobble around Aoi was the first person he wanted to see.
Aoi’s throat was too raw to speak after he was extubated, and he rubbed it apologetically when Junpei asked how he felt. He squeezed Junpei’s hand when Junpei took his and apologized for not finding him sooner or protecting him in the first place. When he could talk later on he rasped, “Quiet,” and gestured that he wanted the popsicle Junpei was holding instead.
If Akane wasn’t asleep she was hovering in Aoi’s room, head on his shoulder as she sat in a chair by his bedside. It didn’t take her long to find out all the Crash Keys resources she could normally take advantage of weren’t returning her messages, and she’d had to dig into her personal liquid funds to get and keep people on retainer for when they left the hospital. When she’d floated her theory that a certain errant brother had liquidated everything else, Aoi just nodded. Talk about all the losses and the future was on hold while they were physically and mentally in recovery. Aoi and Akane were having all the necessary conversations with their eyes and gestures; disappointed glances and hesitant placating and sharp little angry nods. Junpei had never seen them outright fight, but this was the closest he’d ever come and he didn’t want to see worse. When Akane suggested he go see Seven—while staring at her brother—Junpei hastily obliged.
Junpei limped along on crutches, clicking and dragging on the way. He’d have to give up on stealth for a while, he supposed, as he lugged himself to his destination. Even the distance from Aoi’s room to Seven’s felt longer than the length of the ship, and he leaned against the wall, avoiding putting weight on his newly-reinforced ankle, made of plate and screws, to rest. His shoulders and neck ached and his underarms were raw. He couldn’t complain in front of the others but he was free to whine inside his head.
“Aw, you’ll get here eventually, Junpei,” Seven teased as Junpei limped his way in, wobbling on his crutches because he still struggled to sit down unassisted. Seven’s hand rested on his stomach where his bandages must’ve been, bracing it as he spoke. “I’ve got nothin’ but time.” His speech was thick and sludgy as the river they’d staked out a few days ago, before everything went to shit and a smidge of good luck and a Clover saved everyone’s asses, from pain meds. Junpei was a big fan of them himself, but Seven must be a convert with that wound. He groaned when he tried to shift in the bed.
“Do you need…?” Junpei wasn’t sure what he could do, but it was polite to offer.
Seven waved him off. “No.” He sighed. “It looks like I’ll be taking it easy for a while. Won’t kill me to get used to it.” Junpei didn’t know the finer details of Seven’s condition; Akane was the de facto representative rushing between three rooms.
“Don’t give me that, you’ll beat me out of here.” Junpei listed to one side as if to emphasize it.
Seven didn't deal in subtlety. "I mean—I think this was my last hurrah. From what Akane told me the doctors say I'm lucky to be alive. And that wouldn't stop me before, but..." He exhaled painfully. "They took out a chunk of my organs, man."
"You're big enough to be hiding extra in there," Junpei joked. "It's not about running and gunning. You told me that. You can still work behind the scenes—"
"Oh shut up, when did I say I was leaving you guys?" Seven nodded. "But it's like you said. I'm never gonna be in the field again. I'm not sure when I'll be back in the office."
Junpei lowered himself into a chair like an ungainly cow and Seven chuckled, then gasped. "Well. You'll have plenty of time to write." Junpei pulled out his phone where they gathered a lot of their notes for their ‘Detective Brothers’ series. "Maybe the Detectives should finally go to Nara like you wanted."
"'An Obon visit to remember...'" Seven echoed the first line of his proposed copy that Junpei hated the first time. He shook his head. "Maybe when I can think straight again."
"Better hurry up, your nurse will knock you senseless if you annoy her." Junpei smirked. "You've got a few hours before Lotus’ plane touches down."
"No." Seven looked cornered, then aghast. "I thought we were partners. You can't do this to me."
Junpei held up his hands and shook his head. "It was the classic Prisoner's Dilemma. I stay quiet and she kicks both our asses or I say you need her and she just kicks yours. I had no choice."
"You son of a bitch," Seven said with a glare he couldn't back up.
Junpei turned on the voice recording app and sets it back on the table. "So now that you've got more energy: let's get to work."
**
Akane said, "Clover and I had a plan! We were going to find you before you could ever—"
"I was just thinking of a way out." Aoi slumped back in his bed and crossed his arms. He squeezed his fists against his ribs to banish the painful, burning tingling. "He was gonna inherit a bunch of destroyed shit and that shipping company operating at a huge loss. Come on, I wasn't gonna give away anything good."
"Just Bluebird."
"Who cares?!" His outburst startled her and he immediately felt instinctive guilt that he upset her. "It's stuff," he said softly. "Just dumb stuff. We'll get more." Just take another thirteen years and countless late nights and longer days. Without capital. Without his power. She was in the same room and he couldn't hear or feel anything.
"It was ours." Akane frowned, not disappointed but mournful. She rests her head on the pillow. "I don't care about the things. I care about you and what we did, and I'm allowed to be angry that you destroyed it without my input."
Aoi gestured for her to come closer and when she complied he pulled her down and kissed her forehead, though she complained. "Hold your breath and turn blue, while you're at it." He stroked her forehead, aware of his own sweaty skin. "I'm sorry." 'Sometimes I've gotta be the grown-up,' he used to say when they were kids. "I know you better than to think you didn't have a plan. But..." ‘That time without you was hell. I know I fucked up. I'll do better.’ "Eh, fuck it. You're mad."
When she grabbed his hands he pulled her into the bed although the pain lurched and consumed his arms. She started massaging his hands one at a time, like she used to do when he spent all day typing and texting. "And you're in pain."
"It's not—"
"The problem with big brothers," she says as she gently coaxes the fire out if his nerves, "is they think they need to protect little sisters from everything. And they never let their sisters take care of them."
"It's the opposite," Aoi protests. He sinks into the pillow beside her. "We know they're smarter than us and we spend our whole lives trying to keep them from finding out." Because otherwise they would lose them.
"I'm still mad at you."
"I know." He started to doze off as she kept rubbing, easing some of the pain just by being there.
**
The attic in Federal Hill was cold but homier than the hotel suite Clover sat in while everyone else suffered. After they checked with Akane that she was okay by herself and the other three were too, Light took Clover from the hospital to the attic. They fell asleep with the beds pushed together, putting off all difficult conversations until later.
"Do we go home?" Clover said later that night. She urged Light to prop up his newly-repaired arm on a pillow on her lap and pushed tofu around in its plastic container with her right hand. Mapo tofu wasn't supposed to be this greasy and mushy, but that wasn't the only thing turning her stomach. "No. We’ll blow this whole city."
Her brother leaned against the bedside, drowsy and nodding still. He hadn't made a dent in his food. "We go home."
"What? We—"
"Home." He gestured aimlessly like he did when he was thinking. "Mother and Father. I'm certainly through with America."
She tilted her head at him, then leaned against him, knitting against his side when he put his arm around her. She hugged his torso. "Yeah. Me too." There were worse things than having a soft place to fall. But their voices were unconvincing, neither saying it wasn't America that haunted them or caused their problems. It was never their choice to go back to any of this. "How do you feel?"
He put his chin on top of her head. "Functional." He was withdrawn and when he did react it was to fuss over her like she was nine. That was okay; if she thought too hard about the past week she might chip away until she was rubble between the floorboards.
Hongou sounded like a hissing cat as he bled out. She didn't realize she'd been holding on to Akane until someone extricated her to see if they were okay. Clover murmured, "Do you think Crash Keys will come back?"
"Would you like them to?"
"No."
"Then they won't."
"Would you?"
He sighed and it moved his whole body like he'd been wound down. It wasn't until he started snoring that she realized he'd fallen asleep.
She eased him back against the bedside and took the burner phone a Crash Keys member had given them on Akane’s order. She played games in the dark until she went into the bathroom, turned on a fan jammed in the window, and sat on the bath mat. She intended to call Mama, but the phone rang before she could dial. “Hello?”
"Clover!"
“Alice! How did you get out?”
“Somebody owed me a favor,” was all Alice said and Clover read into the statement and didn’t ask for more information. In a moment Clover was telling the story from the moment she got a headache at the bar, up until now, and her arm hurt from being in an awkward position and she actually was hungry.
Alice intoned, "You do know what has to happen to them?"
"Yes," Clover sighed. Holding. Interrogation. Protective custody. Indefinite hold because Crash Keys graduated to national security threat when they kidnapped SOIS members during Christmas 2028. "But you know what SOIS did, don't you? Where are the other espers now?"
"I don't know," admitted Alice. "I'm trying, Clover, but—"
"But we know. They helped him, they broke into our apartment, and now if they find me and my brother..." Clover's breathing was harsh. "Do you think it'll be any different?"
"You didn't let me finish," Alice said softly. "'But there's only so much I can do on the run.'" She scoffed. "It won't take them long to find the whistleblower, and I have way too many countries to see before I can sit in prison." She was trying to sound light. "I don't know when I can speak to you next, but don't worry. I have places to go."
"...I understand." Clover aged ten years in those words. 'Everyone's doing the best they know how. Even if it's broken or warped, they're doing what they think is best,' she thought. "But Alice?"
"Yes?"
"Promise you'll come back for Fashion Week?"
"I'll beat you to New York," Alice said softly, unable to disguise the lie. "I'm so proud of you. Promise me you'll leave and stay safe?"
"Of course." Even if they were lying to their friends, everyone was doing the best they knew how. Clover said goodbye and left the bathroom, finding her brother eating her tofu. "Hey!"
"You abandoned it," he said with his mouth full. She gently kicked his kneecap and he grunted in indignation. "Where were you?"
"Talking to Alice. She said they should all be arrested."
"I see." He stretched his legs and thoughtfully chewed and swallowed. Clover shifted her weight to her right leg; her left side was hurting from the tension. "They've earned it."
"Yeah. I guess so." She twirled her loose hair. "...A lot of the espers were dead. I can't—" She could believe someone would do that, if they had the power and believed they were doing the right thing for anything. "And Alice thinks SOIS took the survivors somewhere else." She sat beside her brother and rested her head on his shoulder before he hissed, the residual limb sensitive and stressed. "Sorry." They were in the dark now, city lights making long shadows on the wall, the room cold. "I don't want to help Crash Keys. But I don't think the survivors did anything wrong, and they knew how to find them. Maybe they could help us. We have all their stuff. We could—"
"I'm sick of bargains," he said. "I... I know that sounds heartless but it's true."
"So what are you saying?" He didn't answer. "That we won't do anything even if we can?"
"I thought I could help you," he said quietly.
"You did." She rubbed his bony knee. "And you tried to save everyone. But if you go back on that now..." She reached for her hair again. "You won't be the big brother I admire anymore."
"You do now? After every failure?"
"Of course I do!" She put an arm around him, squeezing again. "Why would I stop?"
Light seemed to hold his breath, as if in a hard reset of his thoughts, and finally nodded, though he still looked pained. "Why would you?" He kissed her head. "The feeling will always be mutual."
"So what do you say? Will you help me?" She shook him gently. "For me?"
"You know I'd do anything for you...and you perfectly manipulate that."
"It's because I'm so cute." She squeaked when he pinched her cheek.
"And far too impetuous."
**
“Oh what the hell is this?”
Light smiled and leaned forward on his elbows, waiting a beat before the chair dragged back and Aoi threw himself down into it. “Hello, Daffodil-3.” The winter sun was weak but warmed the side of his face, and he leaned into it like a cat before sitting back in his chair. “Are you surprised to see me?”
“Totally nauseated,” Aoi said sarcastically. His foot thumped a bassline on the floor. Junpei had wished Light good luck when he said he wanted to speak to Aoi alone to make this proposition; he mentioned that Aoi slept like a cat and the only person he tolerated around him for long periods was Akane.
Light felt both that he was using this edginess to his advantage and that he was allowing Aoi enough privacy to save face, so he pressed the issue and was granted an audience in a private hotel room.
Aoi said, “I mean, you didn’t completely fuck everything up, so good job. But why stick around?”
Everyone asked Light variants of the same question; the only one who supported him was Clover after they came to a consensus that this was the best choice they had for themselves and for others. There were only a handful of survivors of the First Nonary Game now, and if Akane was to be believed, there would be no survivors in a distant future.
Light read once that there were only three types of science fiction stories, the one which fascinated him most dubbed ‘If this goes on…’ When he was a child, he was morbidly fascinated with the dystopic and the horror, the dehumanization, the environmental and societal catastrophe, and then he lived his own personal hell because one man asked himself “What if?” and he stopped daydreaming. He read all the theories of esper powers, and thought of how they could be used for harm in equal parts that he was awed at how they might help.
Now he and Clover asked themselves, ‘If this goes on:’ if they stuck with the status quo of hiding and trying to rebuild a normal life that was just a castle in the air, what good would it be if everything was obliterated and the Earth burned through the bedrock? They reread the contract and confirmed Light truly did co-own the company that made up what remained of Crash Keys, and the words were runes, imbued with power but in a grammar they didn’t yet understand. They could learn it in time, they agreed, but a teacher—no, a partner…
“A theme in Robert Heinlein’s If This Goes On— is that ‘a modern revolution is big business.’” He rolled his neck and waited for a response that didn’t come. A lighter flicked and a moment later a long drag, then a near plume of smoke drifted into his face as Aoi waited for him to continue. “Excuse me—”
“No, please, this is entertaining.” He laughed dryly. “You don’t have to do this. I told you I read, jackass. ‘Where did all you zombies come from?’”
“And we know where we came from,” Light said somberly. “But not where we’re all going, and my point was this: As the co-owners of Bluebird, we—”
“No.”
“What do you mean?” The smell of smoke thickened the air and Light snatched across the table for the pack he suspected was there, shoving it in his own packet. “We want to work with you.”
“No, I want you to sell it all back and I want you two to walk away.” The thump of an ashtray hitting the table. “I don’t want to work with you.” The smoke was catching in Light’s throat now. “Nothing to say? You thought we’d be desperate or just so thankful we’d take you in?” Aoi slapped the table suddenly and under the table Light’s fist clenched involuntarily. “We’ve been doing this since before Akane graduated middle school. We’ll build it again and we’ll stay off someone’s leash.” He didn’t laugh, or sound angry, just...tired. Like the prospect exhausted him despite his bravado. “You don’t know what you’re doing, I gotcha. You think coming to me with your belly up will get us to work with you? Dream on.”
“You know everything and yet twelve people are dead. Please. Enlighten me on how that happened.” Light’s voice dropped several degrees with every word. He opened his eyes and stared dead-on in the direction of Aoi’s voice.
Aoi scoffed and tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. “There’s your problem. You think knowledge protects you. ‘Everything’s gonna be okay ‘cause I’m the smartest guy in the room.’”
“On. The. Contrary. I see how dangerous those ‘intelligent’ people are. They think their actions are justified because they know better than their victims, and they burn themselves down because they think they know better than one another.” Light paused. “It’s what I think of when I reflect on my time in SOIS.”
He shook his head as if he was trying to clear the air of smoke and their truculent exchange. “I did not come here to fight you.” He couldn’t help himself from swallowing and shaking his head before the next bitter words rolled off his tongue. “I would like to make a deal: we run Bluebird as equals and Clover and I join this nebulous, perhaps ultimately pointless, but still admirable quest to save this world.”
He couldn’t feel lower if he sunk down to the floor on his knees and bent over until his forehead touched the floor. He imagined this conversation would be like their time in Baltimore—barbed but focused on a common goal, a temporary understanding. He thought Aoi would needle him, not bristle with this harsh, cutting fury aimed entirely at his ego. He thought Aoi would say yes.
“...You don’t know what you’re suggesting,” Aoi said. “I’m not saying that because I’m worried, but I don’t want to waste our time here. If you two are gonna fuck off the second things get scary—”
“Tell me again that we haven’t been through enough to understand the gravity of our decision.” Nonary Games, multiple. Government agents. That horrible night Clover was taken hostage, and then when she disappeared again. The years on their own, the burglary, covert communications, and Baltimore: the experiments, the corpse ship, the way they took his sister and then half his mind. The scar itching on the back of his head as a constant reminder that he would never be close to Clover in that way again. “If Clover and I believed there was a better way, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. You are our last resort, and the choice we made. We don’t make it lightly. So give me your answer.”
Aoi gave a low whistle and cracked his knuckles. “...That’s the kind of attitude you need if you’re gonna run with us.” He was suddenly closer, the warmth of his skin not far away and his hands grazing Light’s elbows. “Let’s hear your best pitch.”
Light plucked the smoldering cigarette from between Aoi’s fingers and put it between his own lips, blowing smoke through his nostrils so that the carcinogen-laden air was the one thing they shared in that moment. The second Aoi’s hands grabbed his upper arms, he took the cigarette out and leaned forward, head up to receive a kiss that tasted of heavy metals, nicotine, saltwater, and blood.
Chapter Eight
Clover denied Akane a handshake, but she had to agree the plan would work. Plan B was so simple; she’d suggested to Akane they let themselves be caught because Hongou’s ego wouldn’t allow himself to kill them before he could gloat, and he might even put them together with their brothers before long. The two waited in the dark confinement room while Clover played with the screwdriver, pondering what she’d have to do with it but knowing she would and could.
She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs, and sighed. “Hey Akane?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you come here?” She looked anywhere but at Akane, from the thin beds to the dirty floor and the corners of the ceiling. The cold room was more welcoming than her own thoughts. “Why do you care what happens to us?” Junpei had defended her once saying her reasons were as big as the whole world, and Clover remembered that back in Rhizome-9 Akane’s reasons certainly sounded important enough. But Clover couldn’t connect that woman with the Akane in front of her who offered her cookies and wine and who was excited to get married. (She’d taken her ring off before boarding lest anything happen to it.) “You can say anything and I won’t get mad. I just want to know.” Her words sounded cool as bubbles rising to the surface from underwater.
Akane considered her question, head tilted so her hair fell over one shoulder, and then said, “Because I can do things nobody else on Earth can.”
“You mean you will do them,” Clover muttered, twirling the screwdriver. “There are a lot of other ways to get things done.”
Akane looked up at her with a small self-effacing smile. “When this is over I’d like to hear more about how you see the world.” She sounded genuine and it was enough to make Clover resentful. “In another life, I would’ve liked to be like you.
“But as for why I care about you specifically: As long as one of us doesn’t have justice, none of us do. The survivors of the First Nonary Game, I mean.” She cleared her throat; it sounded dry and strained.
Clover let those words sink in and then said, “Does carrying that big head around make your neck hurt?”
“That you can say that makes me happy.”
“I swear I never want to see you again when this is over.” The moment Clover spoke those words she knew she didn’t mean them like that, to be so mean or harsh. Maybe she could do without seeing a single esper ever again, but Akane’s answer had taken her aback and she didn’t hate it. ‘I’ll tell Light about that,’ she thought. ‘I wonder what he’ll think.’
Akane didn’t reply.
They both lifted their heads at the sound of footsteps. Nodding to each other, they got up to enact their agreed upon plan. Freedom was easily won; the guard wasn’t expecting Akane to bite him and Clover to body check him; a small thing could fell a bigger thing with enough force and momentum, and they were free.
Clover and Akane took his keys (he carried no weapon) and ran, trying every door. They moved with urgency despite the confidence that they’d contacted the outside world and local law enforcement, and planned contractor help was on the way; they had of course hoped not to go before the threat on the Defiant had been neutralized but now it was time for the contractors to fulfill their end of the bargain hazard pay or no. Clover bit her lip as she and Akane hid in another confinement room as footsteps passed; only one or two people again. They didn’t need to speak, just looked at each other and then back to the door.
Continuing on, they stumbled on to the great discovery: their original goal and now split between this and their personal one. It was all personal, Clover thought, but she wasn’t prepared for the disgust, awe, and clinical fascination she felt when they arrived in the makeshift hospital room. Two rows of hospital beds holding six people hooked up to IVs, continuously pumping mystery fluids into them.
Clover twisted a bottle towards her, noting the Soporil label. Due to association with Cradle, after another company purchased the patent Soporil had been taken off the market, reformulated, and distributed under a new name, her brother had said during his phase of tracking everything Cradle Pharmaceutical-related after the Second Nonary Game. When he stopped tracking Clover assumed he was more comfortable.
“Don’t touch anything,” Akane whispered, “We don’t know what this is for.”
“It’s a sedative,” Clover said matter of factly. “Stop worrying.” She looked over one person’s face—Ami, despite the shaved hair and pale skin and weight loss, Clover recognized her from a small scar by her ear she’d said her sister gave her as kids—and noted how very tired she still looked. “I think he wants them to stay asleep so they can’t run away.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.” Clover shook Ami but she didn’t even murmur.
Akane waved her over from her place by an empty bed. “This one is still warm.” She spread her hands out on the sheets and felt the pillow, rolling the fabric between her fingers and searching intently. “It’s silly to think, but…”
“You wanna know if Junpei was here?”
“Yes. But he must be alive,” she said.
“Yeah. He’s supernaturally lucky.” Clover looked at her boot and shifted the screwdriver inside. “You want me to go back to the control room and let them know where the espers are?”
Akane hesitated before looking back at Clover. “Can you stay with me?”
Clover blinked at her, turned her head away, and muttered, “You’re so needy,” as she nodded.
Passing the beds they found something worse:
The spy's body was twisted and his face a pained rictus, limbs locked and face grimacing. It took Clover’s breath to see. This death had not been a peaceful one and she had no idea what had happened. He didn't look beaten to death and he certainly wasn't exploded. And then he'd been left here. She didn't know him yet felt bad.
Akane bent down and started examining his body, trying to pull his arms straight and looking in his staring eyes and wrenching his jaw open so she could—gross—smell his breath. "I don't think it's cyanide," she muttered. "Arsenic, acetone, antifreeze, oleander, foxglove? Not bleach and it doesn't look like acetaminophen or morphine..."
"Strychnine?"
"Huh?"
"Strychnine works fast and gives you convulsions and rigidity." Clover played with the hem of her skirt. "And it's almost definitely fatal unless you get treatment fast. Like within thirty minutes fast."
"Your brother knows that?"
"I know that. I like mystery novels. Strychnine was a popular murder weapon in old ones."
"Oh!" Akane retrieved two baggies from his pocket. "Activated charcoal and phenobarbital. Poison treatment and anticonvulsant." She frowned. "Why didn't he save himself?"
"...Maybe he couldn't. Can't you see Hongou, like, waiting until it was too late then mocking him by giving him the solution when he couldn't move?"
"He enjoys others’ fear," Akane said flatly, looking at the body. She was far away, Clover knew. If what she knew was true, Akane had beef with Free the Soul but there was nobody in the world she hated more than Gentarou Hongou. "Yes." She held on to the items. "Let's go."
With a promise to the others to return, they left and made it up to the next deck, passing a cabin and a dining hall, and coming to a door at the end which sounded like chaos lay within. The voices carried and Clover gasped, “It’s—”
Akane breathed, “Niichan.”
Clover retrieved her screwdriver. When they entered she swiveled her head, panning the room for her number one target, and saw Seven, Junpei (unconscious on his back against one wall, like he’d been thoughtfully placed out of the way), Aoi, and her most important person. She found her brother kneeling with his back to her, head up. She tried to call for Light but what came out was a cry as she leapt on him, taking them both to the floor. He rolled over and she took him in her arms, squeezing him like she’d never let go.
His voice came out in a sob: “Clover.” His body went limp suddenly like he was so exhausted and could finally let it out with her. “Augh, my arm—Clover please—”
Clover realized too late that sob had been one of pain and apologized, backing off of him, barely able to see him through tears. “What did you do?”
Light beckoned to her with his good arm and she went to him, pressed her forehead to his and only stopped because he kissed the top of her head before holding them back together. His motions said there was much he needed to say to her but they pressed on him so much he’d lost his voice.
“It’s okay now,” she said gently. She saved him and now they had each other so they could do anything. Behind her she’d heard the Kurashikis brief reunion, stymied because Aoi was oddly curt—Clover turned her head and said, “Oh my God,” at what she saw.
Aoi shook his head. “Hey, busy now,” he said and leaned over Seven, trying to put more pressure on his wound and the red spot seeping through his clothing as it grew around Aoi’s hands.
Below him Seven groaned his chest heaved piteously, but he tried to reach up and touch Aoi’s cheek as if telling him it would be fine.
“You took the deal! What are you waiting for? Seven needs to go ashore now!” Aoi said to Hongou, who got up from his seat—and was amused when the Fields got up and stood between them. Clover cried out when he shoved her aside and she fell hard to the floor, the ship rocking up as if to meet her. How far from shore were they? Was it too late and Hongou knew it? Clover rolled onto her back and lashed out, digging her heels into his upper thigh instead of his balls. His kick in her ribs had a lot more strength.
Enraged, Light clawed at his face and fell heavily when he was punched in the stomach. His scream of agony when Hongou stomped on his bad arm broke Clover’s heart, and she tried to get up again but was kicked back down. She held tight to the screwdriver and managed to scratch him when he tried to take it from her, making him hiss and back off.
He slowly approached Aoi, retrieved a gun from within his coat, and pressed it to the back of Aoi’s head; Aoi’s shoulders and arms went rigid, relaxed, went rigid, relaxed.
“Get away from him,” Akane threatened, moving towards him with murderous purpose though she held no weapon.
Through the pain Clover watched this go on. She tried to get up and whimpered before sinking back down; she’d exceeded her limit and was paying for it now. She tried to store what energy she had and told herself Akane had this. She wanted to throw her the screwdriver but couldn’t find the strength.
When Akane tried to grab his arm they grappled briefly before he repulsed her. “I promise you this is very much loaded. Now don’t move or I’ll cover you in his brain matter.” He bumped the back of Aoi’s head and Aoi didn’t move but to convulse again. “Are you starting to feel unwell?” He snatched Aoi by the hair and yanked him off of Seven. He stepped on him and held him in place with his foot.
Aoi seized properly for the first time, arms still rigid, and Clover forced herself to awkwardly crabwalk to her feet while Light dragged himself along on his good arm and knees.
Hongou said, “It’s too late for you and your sister. You lose your life and she loses everything else. Does that seem fair to you?”
“No, what’s fair is that it’s too late for you too.” Light rolled onto his back, unable to sit up, and his voice shook with pain but he persisted speaking. “A-are you starting to feel tense?”
Hongou stilled with understanding, and Clover watched a small miracle: a muscle spasm in his face. “I see.”
“I knew we couldn’t trust you. I switched our glasses and then spilled mine to distract you,” Light said, eyes squeezed shut. After Clover knelt down and described in English the symptoms she was seeing, Light nodded. He patted her knee and whispered one thing to her that told her what she had to do.
Clover looked to Akane, terror in her eyes, and gestured to her pocket.
Hongou didn’t reply, he was too busy tearing open a packet he’d retrieved from his pocket and cramming its black powdery contents into his mouth, swallowing like he was a snake with a rat. “But it’s too bad that activated charcoal can mitigate unabsorbed poison and I’ll live long enough to seek treatment.”
Choking, Aoi was caught in a full seize and Seven reached for him, holding his stomach with one hand and Aoi’s shoulder with the other. He tried to speak but what came out was a strained whine.
“I’ll kill you,” Akane said lowly, coldly, and approached him like an unstoppable ghost. “I’ll kill you.” Lost in her anger she reached for his gun with both hands and he hit her with the butt hard enough to knock her away. He grabbed her by the throat and tossed her so she smacked into a heavy table, hitting her ribs and collapsing to her knees holding herself.
“I could care less about what he promised me.” Hongou pressed his weight down on Aoi’s stomach. “I’ve been promised more by better, although I do intend to take my share. As far as your people know, everyone aboard will be recovered alive. By the time they find all of you I’ll be gone.” He gasped and his legs settled into a sawhorse stance above Aoi, who lolled with the ship as it turned hard. For the first time his composure cracked and Clover could see he was afraid, which she used to move.
Light grabbed her ankle but she gently removed his hand.
“You won’t,” Clover said as she approached him, right hand in her dress pocket. She stood out of his limited reach and watched his face wash out and terror settle in as he realized he couldn’t move. She slipped under his arm quick as a mongoose and stabbed him under the armpit with a screwdriver, pushing her weight into it so it penetrated deep into his flesh.
Blood welled up and spread through his sleeve in study spurts as she’d nicked his brachial artery. He howled and she shoved him, using the momentum to yank the screwdriver out, before turning to Aoi and dragging him by the ankles out of his reach. In a rush Akane crawled to them and pulled her brother into her lap. While Hongou yowled on the floor from blood loss and the pain of poison setting in, she retrieved the real charcoal from her boot and forced it into Aoi’s mouth, rubbing his throat to help his swallow it, and then did the same with phenobarbital.
Struggling to breathe and fully seizing again, Aoi made terrifying wheezing noises, beyond speech. “You can’t die before you see me get married—you can’t die before we finally find you someone.” Akane held a relaxing but still tense Aoi closer on her lap. “Please hold on, niichan, we can’t do this without you.”
When Aoi’s eyes were open, Clover looked into them and saw naked, unfiltered fear the likes of which she didn’t know the other could feel. The realization that maybe it was too late and he’d gambled and lost and his last words were to someone he hated, currently bleeding and violently tossing away from them.
"G-Good job," Clover said. "Really. You did everything you could. I'll tell everyone. And you tell them too when you’re okay." Why wouldn't the drugs help already? Aoi's involuntary, agonizing contractions were harder to watch by the second.
“Well don’t go down the long blue tunnel yet, you won’t meet Kilgore Trout,” Light rasped, having crawled to their sides, and softly patted Aoi’s arm.
"Come near them and we'll see each other in Hell," Seven said lowly, and Clover looked up to see he was struggling to point Hongou's fallen gun at his back as he stopped feet away from them. Clover made a slashing motion with the bloody screwdriver.
Hongou heaved. "You needed someone like me. I made you everything you are," he aimed at them all. He was convulsing facedown in his next breath.
When rescuers found them, they saw the four survivors of the First Nonary Game still huddled together, talking quietly as they nursed the injured, speaking in comforting tones, sometimes touching.
**
The nurses wouldn’t let her go with Light or see him right away, which was nonsense, by his own admission he was hurt but not dying. Clover sat a seat apart from Akane in the hospital waiting room; they’d both declined getting checked out in favor of waiting for their brothers, Seven, and Junpei to get cleared and Akane had not stopped crying since they walked in the doors. Clover pinned her hands between her knees and rocked slightly, remembering how lonely she felt whenever she thought Light was gone.
She looked over and saw Akane sniffling into her hands, her face redder and snot still on her top lip. She didn’t look like she was faking… Clover felt pity for her in the moment and put her feelings aside to do the human thing.
She hopped into the next seat and gave Akane a hug. Then she kept a hand on her knee until the doctor came out and said, one at a time, that the boys were going to be okay. Once that was confirmed Akane stood up, stretched, and went outside. Quietly, Clover followed her and watched her make her way around the edge of a parking lot until she reached a car in the middle of a row. She stood at the driver’s side window and spoke to whoever was inside, and then stepped back and watched them drive off. When she turned her head she caught Clover and waved.
Clover jogged over to her, wincing in the cold air and said, “Are you leaving them?”
“What? No, I had to talk to someone.” Akane wrapped her arms around herself and didn’t explain further. “Someone will give you a ride to wherever you want once your brother is discharged.”
Clover lowered her voice and said, “Aren’t you worried SOIS will follow you here?”
Akane shook her head. “There’s more than one hospital in Baltimore, and now there’s going to be more than one Akane Kurashiki in Baltimore. By the time niichan, Junpei, and Seven are ready to leave I can be long gone.”
“I mean. They found you before.”
“I know.”
Clover held her hand out. “Give me your phone.” When Akane tried to play dumb about not having a phone, Clover pointed to her pocket. “You’ve gotta have one by now.” When Akane conceded and gave the phone, Clover called a number she couldn’t forget if she tried: SOIS’ main office. She watched Akane start with anxiety once she realized who Clover had called, and then watched that anxious face smooth over as Clover said Crash Keys was definitely headed westbound on I-695 towards Liberty Road; in between tying her up and bragging about her evil plans, Akane had explained they were headed to a hideout in Western Maryland as opposed to another major city. Clover herself was free now and didn’t want to meet with any available agents. Yes, she was sure.
Clover hung up the phone and handed it back to Akane wordlessly. Akane held it to her chest and looked at her with fondness before returning inside.
**
When Junpei woke up Akane was there and her first words were “Good morning.” She pressed her cheek to his forehead, waiting for the nurse to step out to kiss him. He choked down the terror he’d almost died a while ago, but how much he missed her swelled his throat shut and froze his breath. She kissed him a dozen more times and explained he overdosed on anesthesia but with no severe aftereffects, and his ankle had been repaired. His recovery was going to be so much smoother than Seven and Aoi’s.
He listened in disbelief as Akane told him Aoi had almost had a cardiac arrest that morning and had been poisoned. When Junpei could hobble around Aoi was the first person he wanted to see.
Aoi’s throat was too raw to speak after he was extubated, and he rubbed it apologetically when Junpei asked how he felt. He squeezed Junpei’s hand when Junpei took his and apologized for not finding him sooner or protecting him in the first place. When he could talk later on he rasped, “Quiet,” and gestured that he wanted the popsicle Junpei was holding instead.
If Akane wasn’t asleep she was hovering in Aoi’s room, head on his shoulder as she sat in a chair by his bedside. It didn’t take her long to find out all the Crash Keys resources she could normally take advantage of weren’t returning her messages, and she’d had to dig into her personal liquid funds to get and keep people on retainer for when they left the hospital. When she’d floated her theory that a certain errant brother had liquidated everything else, Aoi just nodded. Talk about all the losses and the future was on hold while they were physically and mentally in recovery. Aoi and Akane were having all the necessary conversations with their eyes and gestures; disappointed glances and hesitant placating and sharp little angry nods. Junpei had never seen them outright fight, but this was the closest he’d ever come and he didn’t want to see worse. When Akane suggested he go see Seven—while staring at her brother—Junpei hastily obliged.
Junpei limped along on crutches, clicking and dragging on the way. He’d have to give up on stealth for a while, he supposed, as he lugged himself to his destination. Even the distance from Aoi’s room to Seven’s felt longer than the length of the ship, and he leaned against the wall, avoiding putting weight on his newly-reinforced ankle, made of plate and screws, to rest. His shoulders and neck ached and his underarms were raw. He couldn’t complain in front of the others but he was free to whine inside his head.
“Aw, you’ll get here eventually, Junpei,” Seven teased as Junpei limped his way in, wobbling on his crutches because he still struggled to sit down unassisted. Seven’s hand rested on his stomach where his bandages must’ve been, bracing it as he spoke. “I’ve got nothin’ but time.” His speech was thick and sludgy as the river they’d staked out a few days ago, before everything went to shit and a smidge of good luck and a Clover saved everyone’s asses, from pain meds. Junpei was a big fan of them himself, but Seven must be a convert with that wound. He groaned when he tried to shift in the bed.
“Do you need…?” Junpei wasn’t sure what he could do, but it was polite to offer.
Seven waved him off. “No.” He sighed. “It looks like I’ll be taking it easy for a while. Won’t kill me to get used to it.” Junpei didn’t know the finer details of Seven’s condition; Akane was the de facto representative rushing between three rooms.
“Don’t give me that, you’ll beat me out of here.” Junpei listed to one side as if to emphasize it.
Seven didn't deal in subtlety. "I mean—I think this was my last hurrah. From what Akane told me the doctors say I'm lucky to be alive. And that wouldn't stop me before, but..." He exhaled painfully. "They took out a chunk of my organs, man."
"You're big enough to be hiding extra in there," Junpei joked. "It's not about running and gunning. You told me that. You can still work behind the scenes—"
"Oh shut up, when did I say I was leaving you guys?" Seven nodded. "But it's like you said. I'm never gonna be in the field again. I'm not sure when I'll be back in the office."
Junpei lowered himself into a chair like an ungainly cow and Seven chuckled, then gasped. "Well. You'll have plenty of time to write." Junpei pulled out his phone where they gathered a lot of their notes for their ‘Detective Brothers’ series. "Maybe the Detectives should finally go to Nara like you wanted."
"'An Obon visit to remember...'" Seven echoed the first line of his proposed copy that Junpei hated the first time. He shook his head. "Maybe when I can think straight again."
"Better hurry up, your nurse will knock you senseless if you annoy her." Junpei smirked. "You've got a few hours before Lotus’ plane touches down."
"No." Seven looked cornered, then aghast. "I thought we were partners. You can't do this to me."
Junpei held up his hands and shook his head. "It was the classic Prisoner's Dilemma. I stay quiet and she kicks both our asses or I say you need her and she just kicks yours. I had no choice."
"You son of a bitch," Seven said with a glare he couldn't back up.
Junpei turned on the voice recording app and sets it back on the table. "So now that you've got more energy: let's get to work."
**
Akane said, "Clover and I had a plan! We were going to find you before you could ever—"
"I was just thinking of a way out." Aoi slumped back in his bed and crossed his arms. He squeezed his fists against his ribs to banish the painful, burning tingling. "He was gonna inherit a bunch of destroyed shit and that shipping company operating at a huge loss. Come on, I wasn't gonna give away anything good."
"Just Bluebird."
"Who cares?!" His outburst startled her and he immediately felt instinctive guilt that he upset her. "It's stuff," he said softly. "Just dumb stuff. We'll get more." Just take another thirteen years and countless late nights and longer days. Without capital. Without his power. She was in the same room and he couldn't hear or feel anything.
"It was ours." Akane frowned, not disappointed but mournful. She rests her head on the pillow. "I don't care about the things. I care about you and what we did, and I'm allowed to be angry that you destroyed it without my input."
Aoi gestured for her to come closer and when she complied he pulled her down and kissed her forehead, though she complained. "Hold your breath and turn blue, while you're at it." He stroked her forehead, aware of his own sweaty skin. "I'm sorry." 'Sometimes I've gotta be the grown-up,' he used to say when they were kids. "I know you better than to think you didn't have a plan. But..." ‘That time without you was hell. I know I fucked up. I'll do better.’ "Eh, fuck it. You're mad."
When she grabbed his hands he pulled her into the bed although the pain lurched and consumed his arms. She started massaging his hands one at a time, like she used to do when he spent all day typing and texting. "And you're in pain."
"It's not—"
"The problem with big brothers," she says as she gently coaxes the fire out if his nerves, "is they think they need to protect little sisters from everything. And they never let their sisters take care of them."
"It's the opposite," Aoi protests. He sinks into the pillow beside her. "We know they're smarter than us and we spend our whole lives trying to keep them from finding out." Because otherwise they would lose them.
"I'm still mad at you."
"I know." He started to doze off as she kept rubbing, easing some of the pain just by being there.
**
The attic in Federal Hill was cold but homier than the hotel suite Clover sat in while everyone else suffered. After they checked with Akane that she was okay by herself and the other three were too, Light took Clover from the hospital to the attic. They fell asleep with the beds pushed together, putting off all difficult conversations until later.
"Do we go home?" Clover said later that night. She urged Light to prop up his newly-repaired arm on a pillow on her lap and pushed tofu around in its plastic container with her right hand. Mapo tofu wasn't supposed to be this greasy and mushy, but that wasn't the only thing turning her stomach. "No. We’ll blow this whole city."
Her brother leaned against the bedside, drowsy and nodding still. He hadn't made a dent in his food. "We go home."
"What? We—"
"Home." He gestured aimlessly like he did when he was thinking. "Mother and Father. I'm certainly through with America."
She tilted her head at him, then leaned against him, knitting against his side when he put his arm around her. She hugged his torso. "Yeah. Me too." There were worse things than having a soft place to fall. But their voices were unconvincing, neither saying it wasn't America that haunted them or caused their problems. It was never their choice to go back to any of this. "How do you feel?"
He put his chin on top of her head. "Functional." He was withdrawn and when he did react it was to fuss over her like she was nine. That was okay; if she thought too hard about the past week she might chip away until she was rubble between the floorboards.
Hongou sounded like a hissing cat as he bled out. She didn't realize she'd been holding on to Akane until someone extricated her to see if they were okay. Clover murmured, "Do you think Crash Keys will come back?"
"Would you like them to?"
"No."
"Then they won't."
"Would you?"
He sighed and it moved his whole body like he'd been wound down. It wasn't until he started snoring that she realized he'd fallen asleep.
She eased him back against the bedside and took the burner phone a Crash Keys member had given them on Akane’s order. She played games in the dark until she went into the bathroom, turned on a fan jammed in the window, and sat on the bath mat. She intended to call Mama, but the phone rang before she could dial. “Hello?”
"Clover!"
“Alice! How did you get out?”
“Somebody owed me a favor,” was all Alice said and Clover read into the statement and didn’t ask for more information. In a moment Clover was telling the story from the moment she got a headache at the bar, up until now, and her arm hurt from being in an awkward position and she actually was hungry.
Alice intoned, "You do know what has to happen to them?"
"Yes," Clover sighed. Holding. Interrogation. Protective custody. Indefinite hold because Crash Keys graduated to national security threat when they kidnapped SOIS members during Christmas 2028. "But you know what SOIS did, don't you? Where are the other espers now?"
"I don't know," admitted Alice. "I'm trying, Clover, but—"
"But we know. They helped him, they broke into our apartment, and now if they find me and my brother..." Clover's breathing was harsh. "Do you think it'll be any different?"
"You didn't let me finish," Alice said softly. "'But there's only so much I can do on the run.'" She scoffed. "It won't take them long to find the whistleblower, and I have way too many countries to see before I can sit in prison." She was trying to sound light. "I don't know when I can speak to you next, but don't worry. I have places to go."
"...I understand." Clover aged ten years in those words. 'Everyone's doing the best they know how. Even if it's broken or warped, they're doing what they think is best,' she thought. "But Alice?"
"Yes?"
"Promise you'll come back for Fashion Week?"
"I'll beat you to New York," Alice said softly, unable to disguise the lie. "I'm so proud of you. Promise me you'll leave and stay safe?"
"Of course." Even if they were lying to their friends, everyone was doing the best they knew how. Clover said goodbye and left the bathroom, finding her brother eating her tofu. "Hey!"
"You abandoned it," he said with his mouth full. She gently kicked his kneecap and he grunted in indignation. "Where were you?"
"Talking to Alice. She said they should all be arrested."
"I see." He stretched his legs and thoughtfully chewed and swallowed. Clover shifted her weight to her right leg; her left side was hurting from the tension. "They've earned it."
"Yeah. I guess so." She twirled her loose hair. "...A lot of the espers were dead. I can't—" She could believe someone would do that, if they had the power and believed they were doing the right thing for anything. "And Alice thinks SOIS took the survivors somewhere else." She sat beside her brother and rested her head on his shoulder before he hissed, the residual limb sensitive and stressed. "Sorry." They were in the dark now, city lights making long shadows on the wall, the room cold. "I don't want to help Crash Keys. But I don't think the survivors did anything wrong, and they knew how to find them. Maybe they could help us. We have all their stuff. We could—"
"I'm sick of bargains," he said. "I... I know that sounds heartless but it's true."
"So what are you saying?" He didn't answer. "That we won't do anything even if we can?"
"I thought I could help you," he said quietly.
"You did." She rubbed his bony knee. "And you tried to save everyone. But if you go back on that now..." She reached for her hair again. "You won't be the big brother I admire anymore."
"You do now? After every failure?"
"Of course I do!" She put an arm around him, squeezing again. "Why would I stop?"
Light seemed to hold his breath, as if in a hard reset of his thoughts, and finally nodded, though he still looked pained. "Why would you?" He kissed her head. "The feeling will always be mutual."
"So what do you say? Will you help me?" She shook him gently. "For me?"
"You know I'd do anything for you...and you perfectly manipulate that."
"It's because I'm so cute." She squeaked when he pinched her cheek.
"And far too impetuous."
**
“Oh what the hell is this?”
Light smiled and leaned forward on his elbows, waiting a beat before the chair dragged back and Aoi threw himself down into it. “Hello, Daffodil-3.” The winter sun was weak but warmed the side of his face, and he leaned into it like a cat before sitting back in his chair. “Are you surprised to see me?”
“Totally nauseated,” Aoi said sarcastically. His foot thumped a bassline on the floor. Junpei had wished Light good luck when he said he wanted to speak to Aoi alone to make this proposition; he mentioned that Aoi slept like a cat and the only person he tolerated around him for long periods was Akane.
Light felt both that he was using this edginess to his advantage and that he was allowing Aoi enough privacy to save face, so he pressed the issue and was granted an audience in a private hotel room.
Aoi said, “I mean, you didn’t completely fuck everything up, so good job. But why stick around?”
Everyone asked Light variants of the same question; the only one who supported him was Clover after they came to a consensus that this was the best choice they had for themselves and for others. There were only a handful of survivors of the First Nonary Game now, and if Akane was to be believed, there would be no survivors in a distant future.
Light read once that there were only three types of science fiction stories, the one which fascinated him most dubbed ‘If this goes on…’ When he was a child, he was morbidly fascinated with the dystopic and the horror, the dehumanization, the environmental and societal catastrophe, and then he lived his own personal hell because one man asked himself “What if?” and he stopped daydreaming. He read all the theories of esper powers, and thought of how they could be used for harm in equal parts that he was awed at how they might help.
Now he and Clover asked themselves, ‘If this goes on:’ if they stuck with the status quo of hiding and trying to rebuild a normal life that was just a castle in the air, what good would it be if everything was obliterated and the Earth burned through the bedrock? They reread the contract and confirmed Light truly did co-own the company that made up what remained of Crash Keys, and the words were runes, imbued with power but in a grammar they didn’t yet understand. They could learn it in time, they agreed, but a teacher—no, a partner…
“A theme in Robert Heinlein’s If This Goes On— is that ‘a modern revolution is big business.’” He rolled his neck and waited for a response that didn’t come. A lighter flicked and a moment later a long drag, then a near plume of smoke drifted into his face as Aoi waited for him to continue. “Excuse me—”
“No, please, this is entertaining.” He laughed dryly. “You don’t have to do this. I told you I read, jackass. ‘Where did all you zombies come from?’”
“And we know where we came from,” Light said somberly. “But not where we’re all going, and my point was this: As the co-owners of Bluebird, we—”
“No.”
“What do you mean?” The smell of smoke thickened the air and Light snatched across the table for the pack he suspected was there, shoving it in his own packet. “We want to work with you.”
“No, I want you to sell it all back and I want you two to walk away.” The thump of an ashtray hitting the table. “I don’t want to work with you.” The smoke was catching in Light’s throat now. “Nothing to say? You thought we’d be desperate or just so thankful we’d take you in?” Aoi slapped the table suddenly and under the table Light’s fist clenched involuntarily. “We’ve been doing this since before Akane graduated middle school. We’ll build it again and we’ll stay off someone’s leash.” He didn’t laugh, or sound angry, just...tired. Like the prospect exhausted him despite his bravado. “You don’t know what you’re doing, I gotcha. You think coming to me with your belly up will get us to work with you? Dream on.”
“You know everything and yet twelve people are dead. Please. Enlighten me on how that happened.” Light’s voice dropped several degrees with every word. He opened his eyes and stared dead-on in the direction of Aoi’s voice.
Aoi scoffed and tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. “There’s your problem. You think knowledge protects you. ‘Everything’s gonna be okay ‘cause I’m the smartest guy in the room.’”
“On. The. Contrary. I see how dangerous those ‘intelligent’ people are. They think their actions are justified because they know better than their victims, and they burn themselves down because they think they know better than one another.” Light paused. “It’s what I think of when I reflect on my time in SOIS.”
He shook his head as if he was trying to clear the air of smoke and their truculent exchange. “I did not come here to fight you.” He couldn’t help himself from swallowing and shaking his head before the next bitter words rolled off his tongue. “I would like to make a deal: we run Bluebird as equals and Clover and I join this nebulous, perhaps ultimately pointless, but still admirable quest to save this world.”
He couldn’t feel lower if he sunk down to the floor on his knees and bent over until his forehead touched the floor. He imagined this conversation would be like their time in Baltimore—barbed but focused on a common goal, a temporary understanding. He thought Aoi would needle him, not bristle with this harsh, cutting fury aimed entirely at his ego. He thought Aoi would say yes.
“...You don’t know what you’re suggesting,” Aoi said. “I’m not saying that because I’m worried, but I don’t want to waste our time here. If you two are gonna fuck off the second things get scary—”
“Tell me again that we haven’t been through enough to understand the gravity of our decision.” Nonary Games, multiple. Government agents. That horrible night Clover was taken hostage, and then when she disappeared again. The years on their own, the burglary, covert communications, and Baltimore: the experiments, the corpse ship, the way they took his sister and then half his mind. The scar itching on the back of his head as a constant reminder that he would never be close to Clover in that way again. “If Clover and I believed there was a better way, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. You are our last resort, and the choice we made. We don’t make it lightly. So give me your answer.”
Aoi gave a low whistle and cracked his knuckles. “...That’s the kind of attitude you need if you’re gonna run with us.” He was suddenly closer, the warmth of his skin not far away and his hands grazing Light’s elbows. “Let’s hear your best pitch.”
Light plucked the smoldering cigarette from between Aoi’s fingers and put it between his own lips, blowing smoke through his nostrils so that the carcinogen-laden air was the one thing they shared in that moment. The second Aoi’s hands grabbed his upper arms, he took the cigarette out and leaned forward, head up to receive a kiss that tasted of heavy metals, nicotine, saltwater, and blood.
