16. Upside Clown

The trio had made their way back to the rooftop hovel in fairly abject silence. The city was never truly dark, but as the night dragged on, everything was swallowed into cold. Every streetlamp they passed beneath cast wanton judgement in a flash of yellow. It was quite a walk too. The wind picked up soon after they left the apartment complex behind: a cruel and ominous howl, funnelled down the space between buildings. Tegata walked a few paces ahead, glancing over his shoulder every yard or so. Kinuka followed, and Rin sloped along behind. He wasn’t blessed with any layers beyond his hooded sweatshirt and gakuran, so hugged himself all the tighter.

“Amibari,” he whined, “You don’t happen to have any of those thermals on you right now, do you?”

Kinuka pursed her lips. “Oh, so now you want them.”

“Don’t be difficult…”

“Like you were this morning?”

“Tch. Forget I even asked.”

Tegata looked over his shoulder. “What’s this about?”

“None of your business!” snapped Rin. 

Kinuka hit him. 

“I’m a seamstress in my free time,” she explained. “I take commissions over the internet, and make stuff for my friends too.”

“That’s a good skill,” Tegata noted. “And kind of you, too.”

Kinuka smiled. “I had offered Rin one this morning, but—”

“Hey, can we stop talking about this?” Glaring down at the pavement, Rin kicked a can into the road, where it bounced off a raised kerb and clamoured into an open drain.

“You turned down a gift from a friend? In this weather?” Tegata’s eyes narrowed, cold.

A prickly heat crept across Rin’s face and neck. He bunched his shoulders and scowled. “Spare me the sanctimony,” he spat, burrowing hands deeper in pockets. 

They glared at one another a little longer, before Kinuka broke the stalemate.

“Would you like one, Tegata?” She asked. “Provided I get my hands on some material, I could whip one up really quickly—what with Threadwork and all.”

“Oh—” Tegata hastily looked away— “You really shouldn’t worry about me.”

Kinuka’s smile faded. “But you just said—”

“Don’t be so quick to think of me as a friend, for your own sake.”

“Oh…” She withdrew to Rin’s side. He gave her a quick glance, but decided against a retort.

They lapsed into silence, three asynchronous gaits echoing across the empty pavement. The night drew on. There wasn’t another soul in sight on either side of the street. Rin began to shiver against the wind. 

Kinuka cut him a glance, then murmured, “Of course I’ll make you one.”

“…Thanks.”

They lapsed into silence again, until Rin spied a bright and familiar sign up ahead. His eyes lit up. “Oh, a 7-11! Finally!”

Despite the dry wind, Kinuka felt herself salivate. “Thank goodness.”

Both drew to the bright storefront like moths. Rin adjusted his hood, shrouding himself once more. With one hand on the door, he hesitated. “Do you think they’ll recognise us?”

“Maybe?” Kinuka paused. “How hungry are you?”

“Hungry enough to risk it. I didn’t have anything at that café either.”

“What?! Why not?” She cried. “Didn’t we go there because you were hungry?”

“Didn’t feel right in the end. Plus, they only had sweets.”

“I suppose it was just one of those bakery places, right? You never did have a terribly sweet tooth…”

“They didn’t have anything with white chocolate.”

“That’s your hard line?”

By now, Tegata had stopped. “What are you doing?”

Rin pointed up at the sign as though the answer was self-evident. “…Food?”

“We can’t remain out in the open air like this. We’re exposed.”

“You’re exposed,” Rin clarified. “I’m hungry.”

Tegata folded his arms. “Do you expect me to wait for you?”

“Not really. We’ll catch up if you’re that impatient.” Rin stepped aside to let Kinuka open the door and start without him. “I have a grasp on your psychic signature now, remember? I tracked you all the way to Inokashira; I’ll just track you down again.”

“And if I suppress my signature—what then?”

“You can do that?”

Tegata sighed. “Yes,” he said. “It’s basic.”

Rin glowered. “Fine then,” he said. “I guess we’ll both freeze and die. Actually—no we won’t, since I already know where we’re going; I memorised the street before we left! I’ve lived in this city my whole life.”

Tegata relented and moved to stand against the side of the building, arms crossed. “Fine. Be quick.”

 Rin whooped and burst through the door. Just as the bell chimed overhead, he hesitated and stuck his head back through. “Hey. Want anything?”

Tegata thought for a moment. “Onigiri. Any flavour.”

Rin threw a thumbs up and disappeared inside.

---

On their return to the hovel, Rin had taken every opportunity to use Framework which—much to his joy—came in plenty of use! They had no access to the building, and carving their way through the door was apparently “not an option”, so Rin had instead designing a rudimentary set of steps and ladders to help them ascend the side to the rooftop. 

“Will those girls be okay?” Kinuka asked, fishing around in her cup for another stray noodle. She sat on her canvas bed against the sloping wall, knees tucked up to her chest. 

Back in the 7-11, he and Kinuka pooled whatever cash they had on them and proceeded to argue about what flavour of bento to buy. Their eventual compromise, at the weary insistence of the store clerk (who just wanted his shift to be over, man) had just been to get one of each flavour. Their spread littered the dusty crates of the hovel. The noodles had presented a slight logistical challenge, only alleviated by Kinuka abseiling down from the loft and making apologetic use of the kettle from the flat below. The old man was fast asleep anyhow.

“Who’s to say.” Tegata had finished his onigiri long ago. He had pulled out a rickety looking wooden chair, which nearly collapsed when he tried to sit on it. The boy had wolfed them down practically as soon as they had sat down, with a speed that shocked the other two. “They seemed more at ease by the end, the lights were on in the apartment, and I heard voices inside. Beyond that, it’s not our business.”

“They were so brave, though,” said Kinuka. “I keep hoping they’ll forget what they’ve seen tonight, but even I know that’s kinda naive.” She caught a noodle on her chopsticks and elevated gently, only for it to slip, fall and slop back into the dregs of soup. The sticks clattered from her fingers against the cup. Kinuka gazed into its plastic shallows, mildly disappointed.

A loud slurp came from above. Rin sat astride the rafters, legs dangling and swinging. “What I’m more concerned with—” He said, swallowing the last mouthful of soup— “is what that woman was trying to do. Who the hell is she? What was the point of that little stunt?” 

He angled and pitched his cup at their makeshift bin, only to miss by inches. The last few dregs dotted the floor, and a couple specks splattered on Tegata’s face. He grimaced and wiped them off with a pocket tissue before—successfully—landing his own over-the-shoulder throw. 

“Showoff,” Rin soured. 

“Aren’t you going to apologise?” Kinuka cried in reproach.

Rin stuck his tongue out. “I would’ve, but not anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Tegata pinched his nose and sighed. “God, how old are you both…”

They shared a look.

“Seventeen—”

“Eighteen—” Kinuka blinked, then remembered what would’ve otherwise been an important detail. “It’s my birthday today!” 

Tegata blinked at her. The silence was left a little too long, unfortunately. “Er. Congratulations.”

Her face fell. “Sorry—I guess there’s more pressing stuff to deal with right now, isn’t there?” She tried laughing it off, but that didn’t work. 

Both then looked up at Rin, hoping he’d say something. Anything. 

The boy now lay supine across the crossbar, munching on a sushi roll. He had been blessed with the fortune in life to never go hungry up until today, and brother, food had never tasted so good. He felt their stares all of a sudden, and swallowed. “Earrings,” he said flatly, tugging at his bare earlobe. “Do they fit okay?”

Kinuka blushed and hurriedly ruffled her hair, her fingers pinching at something out of view.

Tegata gave her curious side-eye, but didn’t press. “I told you on the way here. That woman was Kaori Sumiyaka: a JPRO Operative working under Hakana, another of the Glass Eyes.”

“Yeah, yeah, old news.” He snapped his fingers. “What did she want?”

“She wanted me, most likely.”

Rin stared. “What, like, carnally? Or—”

“Obviously not!” Kinuka beamed another sushi at him, which Rin snapped out of the air like a dog. “What insane reflexes…”

“Why not?” Rin shot back, his mouth full of food. “He’s got the looks, I bet. They all go for pretty-boy types, right?” He swallowed. “Actually, maybe not with those scars…”

“Rin, that’s so rude!”

“It was a bait to lure me out of hiding,” Tegata continued. “They’ve been looking for me since I escaped their facility. They can’t afford to have a loose asset, especially as they’re finally mobilising proper.”

“An asset?” Kinuka asked.

“Look at my face,” said Tegata. “What kind of ‘asset’ do you think I am?”

“Fuck.” Rin’s expression dropped. “It’s the human experimentation you mentioned, isn’t it.”

Tegata bit his lip. Shedding his jacket, he stood and swivelled away from them, before unbuttoning his shirt. The cloth dropped, wrenching a loud gasp from their lungs.

“Oh, what the hell—” Rin seized up, horrified.

“What happened to you?!” Kinuka clutched her stomach, paling.

As though he had been put through a sawmill and sewn back together with barbed wire, Tegata’s back was carved up in clean stitch-scarring, to a far greater extent than his face. Tegata turned around, and his chest bore much of the same. 

The blood drained from Rin’s face. “Tegata, what the hell?!”

“Sorry to scare you both.” Tegata concealed the atrocity back under cloth, hastily re-buttoning the shirt, but the horror was already burned into their eyes. “I know they’re unsightly.”

“That’s not the issue here!” Kinuka cried. “Who did this to you?!”

“The same people that kidnapped and tortured my dad, I’ll bet.” Rin gripped the beam so tight he lost feeling in several fingers. 

“Project Theia,” said Tegata. “That was the name of the experiment. The aim was to create an army of subservient psychic supersoldiers. The minds of children are more malleable than adults, with higher latent potential. Their treatment facilities were fronts, a lot of them. The rest, they took off the streets. All were subjected to the Excel Ritual. Among those who survived, I was second generation.” He shifted the long hair off his face, just enough for them to see the barcode seared into his neck—the number 181. “You don’t need me to tell you what we endured. I was in there for ten years, nearly ten generations of subjects. Only a handful of us survived.”

For a long time, no-one moved. Tegata palmed his face, and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s a lot of information all at once.” Resting both arms on his knees, he stared into the floorboards. “But, truth be told, I’m desperate.”

Shakily, Kinuka stood. “Tegata, that’s awful…” Tears beaded the corners of her eyes, and her chest wobbled with shallow breathing. “You don’t have to say anything more if you don’t want to—”

She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Tegata seized her wrist.

She recoiled instantly. “Sorry!”

His eyes were wide and panicked. Tegata let go at once, arm withdrawn to his chest. “No. Don’t be. That was my fault. You meant well.”

Kinuka backed away, arms still elevated by her sides. Slowly, with effort, she crossed them over her front. “But that’s… I really don’t know what to say…”

“I do.” Rin’s voice was cold and calm. Dark hair curtained his face, pale to the point of greying, but his eyes were cast in certain steel. “You want revenge, don’t you?”

“That’s right—I want revenge,” Tegata confirmed, low and solemn. “My motivations are simple and ugly. There’s no nuance at all. My heart burns with hatred, but so be it. I’ll tear everything down for what they’ve done to me and the others, and for all the lives lost—everything, and everyone—but I can’t do it alone.” His gaze flashed to Kinuka. “Earlier, I warned you against considering me a friend, didn’t I.”

“I remember.” She had sat back down, gripping the folds in her shirt. The hurt hadn’t left her face. 

“Why do you think I saved you in that alley?”

“Bet it’s not out of charity.” Rin ruminated on this with another sushi roll. “You need allies.”

Tegata nodded. “And the both of you are powerful. Within only a day of awakening, you’ve both demonstrated significant potential for Psyche. I need to make use of you. I need your strength to help me destroy JPRO. I won’t dress it up as anything more righteous than that.”

“I dunno. Sounds pretty righteous to me,” said Rin. “How much nuance is there in a psychomedical corp that goes around kidnapping and torturing children? It’s like trying to destroy Unit 731. I can’t think of anything more ethical. What’s their total death toll? Do you know?”

Tegata shook his head. “I was locked up for ten years. My knowledge is limited. Our numbers nearly reached a thousand. What I do know is that they have storehouses full of Rejected, possibly several hundred thousand.”

Kinuka shuddered. “That many…? Then JPRO was behind everything, right from the start; the attack at school. I only just realised—that Sumiyaka woman threw out those Rejected herself, didn’t she? From that orb, the same as that Hakana guy…”

“As were the first two.” Tegata crossed his arms and legs, leaning back against the wall. “Rejected aren’t natural. Every single one was a failure of JPRO’s experimentation.”

“Honestly, I think you can cut yourself some slack,” said Rin, now hanging upside-down off the crossbar by his legs, arms behind his head. With the drainage of blood now inverted, his face had regained a little colour. He tried his best to look at ease, but no-one would succeed to that end. “Do you have a plan?”

Tegata stared, nonplussed. “What are you doing?”

The boy grinned.

“Rin…” Kinuka’s reproach was unsuccessful. The corners of her mouth had started to twitch, which she fleetingly covered with one hand. “It’s a little hard to take you seriously when you’re hanging down like that.”

“Good!” He cried. “The atmosphere in this dingy place was way too depressing, and we’ll get nothing done if all we do is sit here looking gloomily at the floor.” With a burst of effort, he swung himself around back upright, and resumed his usual perch. “Now, distracted enough yet? Let’s stay empirical here.” He fixed Tegata with an eerie, owlish stare to complement his birdlike posture. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yes,” said Tegata. “But, more importantly, are you—”

“Are you kidding me?!” Rin cried. “Do you really need to even ask that? Of course I’m on-board. What?! These fuckers have turned my life upside down in the span of a single day! Frankly, my dad had it coming—that’s what he gets for brown-nosing mummies all day—but I don’t much like the reality of him rotting in some prison cell somewhere, when he should be answering to me instead! On top of that, I’m now a fugitive wanted for property destruction and ninety-something counts of manslaughter. I knew I was on government watchlists already, but any chance of me living a normal life now is long dead and gone! Buddy, the feds want me dead!”

Tegata looked forlorn. “I’m sorry they dragged you into this, but that’s why—”

“Sorry?!” Rin shook his head. “Don’t be. Not your fault, is it? Besides, this is an opportunity!” His mouth split into a wider grin. “I’d been itching for an excuse to go balls-to-the-wall for a while now.”

Kinuka gave him a sceptic look. “Balls-to-the-whatnow?”

“Come on, Amibari,” Rin rolled his eyes. “I’ve been bored to tears for ages now… You remember that offer I got from Tokyo to do architecture? And the one from Osaka? And Kyoto? And Cambridge, over in England?” 

Her eyes widened. “No?! You got university offers? Already?!” 

“Like last year, yeah…”

“Rin, that’s amazing! You never told me this!” Kinuka’s eyes softened, and she looked away. “You… haven’t told me anything in nearly three years…”

Rin caught himself on the next breath, staring away at the wall. Between them, Tegata was working his jaw, eyes closed, foot tapping on the dusty floorboards. “I don’t care for the history here. Out with it.”

Rin shot him a thankful glance. “Point is: I would’ve gone to college years ago had all these places not insisted on me having a formal grad certificate! And for why? I’m so far beyond the passing grade it’s literally irrelevant! I’ve been paying for groceries and my electricity bill with the money I get from writing papers in journals! All the while, I keep having to ignore the glaring structural inefficiencies of the world, to keep writing about and designing buildings while ignoring the crumbling foundations beneath! But, you know what I was told, over and over again?” His face dropped. “None of them could ever look me in the eye. Don’t worry about it, Rin,” he mocked. “You don’t know what you’re talking about; you’re too young, too idealistic; the world doesn’t work like that; you’re only making things difficult for yourself—so what?!”

The other two received this in silence, because Rin clearly wasn’t done.

“The only reason I remained tethered to normalcy, to this downright drudgery, was that there was a fleeting chance that they were right—right? There was a chance I’d come to whatever lobotomising realisation everyone else goes through in becoming an adult and stop caring after a while; that I’d be able to look past the issues I’ve seen baked into the concrete of our society for as long as I can remember; that I’d stop trying to fix anything. But, guess what!” The manic grin returned with new vigour. “That last shackle is gone now! If only for a moment, I caught a glimpse at the truth!” He tapped at his forehead, and his third eye blinked. “I don’t have the full picture right now, but not for much longer! I’ll learn, I’ll explore, I’ll build—and learn some more! Circumstance conspired to back me into a corner, but all they did was bust open my jail cell. Like you, Tegata, I’m finally free!” He giggled under his breath. 

He’s delirious, thought Kinuka, pursing her lips. “Rin… Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Are you kidding? Never better!” He grinned wider. “Really, I had been kidding myself all the while. My cage was never there, not really. I kept myself locked up out of weakness, for fear of losing that comfort. But, now that’s all been ripped away, and I feel great! If it feels this good for me, there’s no telling how it felt for you.” The excitement in his glare intensified. “Ten years in that cell, Tegata. How did it feel to have the cold wind on your raw, fresh face for the first time in ten years?”

Tegata had his head bowed, but Kinuka could see the same grin pinned to his cheeks. His body was tense, hands clenched on his knees, knuckles white. When he couldn’t hold back any longer, he looked up, and his face shared that same ecstatic intensity. His next words were electric. “Yeah. Pretty damn good.” 

Kinuka felt her heart start to thunder in her throat, blood coursing through her head, as the smile found its way onto her face too. Their third eyes were all open now; hers began to tingle, electric shivers coursing over her skin. This feeling—she couldn’t ascribe it a name, but somewhere deep and primal within, she knew and understood it intrinsically. The resonance in this room was nearly overwhelming. The lights were brighter, glaring; voices rang sharper in her ear. Her cheeks and jaw began to hurt from the strength of the grin, but in this moment, she didn’t care!

“When we leapt from that rooftop, I felt it too,” she said, a little breathless. “Freedom… I guess you’re right! I had never even thought about it before, but it’s kind of exciting…”

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Rin’s throat spasmed with half-formed chuckles. “You do realise, with these powers, we can do whatever we want. Every amoral contradiction we’ve been forced to swallow, every nonsensical ruling to be followed to the letter—none of them apply to us anymore. It’s always seemed like a lunatic motion, but I see the merit in it now. Normalcy is a shackle for the extraordinary, the good and the bad. I always thought I was free before. I could go anywhere within reason; do and say what I wanted, all within reason—but that was never my reason. That freedom was a lie. I never understood the meaning of freedom, not really. I think I understand it a little better now. To live, guided by one’s dreams and conscience only.” Rin concentrated, psychic energy flashing down his fingers. In one hand, he constructed a cube and showed it around. “There’s so much I want to do with the world, and with this power, I have the chance.”

The grin faded, and Rin fixed Tegata with another stare, more serious now. “So, I’m sorry; I’m afraid, I’m co-opting this mission of yours for my own ends. You have your revenge, and I have my dreams. That’s the condition for my cooperation.” 

Tegata nodded. “That’s fine. Our goals align. That’s enough.”

Rin shrugged. “It just so turns out everyone responsible for this latest turn of events is packaged up in some neat little corporate enterprise. That makes things so much easier. If purging the world of JPRO is the first pillar of my societal reform, then so be it!”

Kinuka’s eyes widened. “Societal reform? Rin, don’t tell me—”

Rin looked her way. This was not a new face, but intensified. She had always known this face, but now saw it clear and full. “You heard me,” he said, looking expectant. “You’ve got your dreams too, right?”

Kinuka hesitated. For some reason, there was a lump in her throat. She swallowed, and blinked. “Yeah. My dreams. Right.”

Rin’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but he didn’t dwell. Hopping off his perch, he extended a hand to Tegata. “Anyway, that’s my answer. Take it or leave it.”

“I’m taking it.” Tegata stood, grasped and firmly shook his hand. “As I said, I’m desperate. I’ll take what I can get.”

He looked to Kinuka and faltered slightly. “Listen, I know I have no right to ask this of you.  From the sounds of things, you were dragged into this against your will.”

“So was I!” cried Rin.

Tegata ignored him, and softened into a smile. “I won’t force anything on you, Kinuka. This is your choice. My saving you today is not a debt, but I could use your strength too, so—”

“I’ll do it.”

Her tone was oddly calm. Both boys looked surprised. Kinuka unfolded herself on the bed and stood to meet Tegata. Her throat bobbed, but her face remained level. “When I awoke to my powers, I resolved to find out the truth: what’s going on, and why. I don’t know why I’m here, what my role in all this is, but there must be a reason. Out of everyone, the Architect stabbed me. I will find out why. Of course I’ll help you rescue your friends. Those children being experimented on, it makes me sick just hearing about it. I’ll help you take down JPRO too, that’s a good cause. But that’s not a strong enough reason by itself. You both have your own aims, so I need my own to stand with you. My goal isn’t as lofty as Rin’s, but that’s fine.” She nodded in self-reassurance. “I have my own dreams too.” She smiled at Tegata. “As per your wish, I won’t call you a friend,” but a little bit of ice crept into her expression all the same, and her smile intensified, “but you’ll need to work with me, too. Okay?”

Her frosty calm unnerved the boys a little.

“Scary…” Rin murmured. He blinked, and held his head a moment.

Tegata met her gaze, and nodded. “It’s… been a while, but I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” Kinuka said sweetly. “Looking forward to working with you, Tegata.”

He sat back down. “Likewise.”

“So.” With a little difficulty, Rin had hoisted himself back up to the rafters. “Now we’ve got that out of the way. What’s the plan?”

Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to say. What came out of his mouth instead was an unintelligible slur. Kinuka and Tegata both stared at him.

“What?”

Rin’s brow furrowed. “Din’t you… me… Isssaid… wha—’s th’… plaaaan…” The boy swayed, eyelids drooping.

Tegata looked alarmed. “You need to get down from there, now.”

“Huuuuhhh?” The colour drained from Rin’s face. “Whaaat’reyou—” But his jaw went slack. Rin pitched backwards and fell. Kinuka stifled a scream. Tegata snapped his fingers, and his shadow elongated before him into an amorphous solid. Rin collapsed onto the shadow like a cushion, deflating under his weight. The shadow retreated from under him, and there he lay, motionless.

“Oh my god—” Kinuka’s breath hitched. “Rin! Is he okay?” 

Tegata blocked her forward surge with an arm. “Hold on. Look.”

The boy’s chest rose and fell, but his muscles had all slackened, fingers curling to rest position. 

“He’s unconscious, not dead.”

Kinuka let out a shaky sigh. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“I didn’t expect either of you to come after me,” Tegata admitted. “You’ve likely exhausted yourselves well beyond capacity, with this being your first day of awakening. Even while exhausted, you pushed yourselves further, fighting off those Rejected.” He sighed, and turned a side eye on Kinuka. “I’m in both your debts.”

She waggled a finger at him. “No debts, remember?”

A smile crept onto his face. “Throwing my words back at me, huh? Okay.”

They kept one another’s silence for a few seconds longer. Tegata gazed at the sleeping Rin, then asked, “Is he always like this?”

Kinuka hummed, then shrugged. “Pretty much. He tends to get kind of animated about things, yeah. He’s passionate, is all.” She exhaled a little laugh. “With that kind of mind, who wouldn’t be. Look where that’s got him: top university offers already. We hadn’t even taken our exams.”

Tegata shook his head. “Sorry, that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Kinuka pursed her lips. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure it means anything to any of us now. As he said, we’re kinda beyond that now, aren’t we?”

“You are, yes.” He paused, looking between them. “You’ve known him a while, then.”

Lips thinned, Kinuka nodded. Her eyes glistened. “As long as I’ve known anyone, really.”

He studied her for a moment. “You seem sad.”

She blinked, met his gaze, and forced a giggle. “Oh, did it look that way? I’m sorry. I’m not sad, no—I’m just…” But her face had started to pale. She blinked again. “He may act a certain way, but Rin’s a good person.”

Tegata smiled, folding his arms. “I know.”

She paused. “You do?”

“I do.” He nodded. “You both are.”

Her eyes crinkled a moment. “But how do you—” She lapsed into a sudden sigh, before suddenly seizing her forehead. She made a woozy noise and suffered a stumble, finding purchase against the wall. Tegata took alarm to this immediately. “I should’ve known.” His voice dropped to something authoritative. “Kinuka. Lie down. Now.”

Blinking rapidly, pale faced, she nodded. Hand gentle on her shoulder, he guided her back to the low canvas bed. Ensuring she didn’t hit her head on the sloping wall, he aided her gradual collapse. She fell face first onto the mattress, and was out like a light. Tegata knelt down beside and carefully rolled her onto her side, removing his jacket and folding it underneath her head, and layering her coat over the top. He turned to Rin, and hoisted him onto the other bed, doing the same with a dusted-down sheet. That left one bed spare.

Not content to return just yet, Tegata drifted over to the room’s solitary window. He let his forehead rest against the glass. Another sigh later, and his breath had fogged it all up.

“You ought to rest.”

Now it was Tegata’s turn for a ghostly visit. He turned at the sound.

“Marion…”

The hooded spectre had several red strings wrapped tight around his throat, wrists and waist, strings that stretched up into the air like a doll’s. His posture was limp like one, too, stringy hair dangling over its face, obscured in shadow.

“You’re troubled.”

It wasn’t a question.

Tegata looked at his empty fist and clenched it.

“I was in a rush. I put them through too much in too short a time because of my own weakness, and nearly lost them in the process.”

“You’re still blaming yourself?”

“Who else? This is all part of my selfish crusade, as you yourself put it.”

 Tegata looked back. Both were soundly asleep. Hopefully they wouldn’t freeze overnight. It was no issue for him: the flow of his psychic energy passively supplemented his body heat; a circuit he had developed long ago in the cells.

“I told you, Tegata.” Marion raised and pointed a bony finger. “You’re no saviour, you’re—”

“—a survivor,” Tegata said. “Yeah—I heard you the first time.”

“You did what you thought was right.”

“I know what I know, and that’s frighteningly little. The world is so new to me, all over again.”

“But you read their shadows, didn’t you?”

“That’s how I know. About them.” He hung his head. “I’m so weak. By myself, I can’t do anything.”

“Why interpret this as weakness, Tegata?”

“Because.” He paused. “My mission is mine alone. I should be strong enough to carry it out myself.”

“A shame.” Marion shook his head. “After ten years, still you refuse to listen.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just—”

The spirit waited for elaboration, but Tegata simply let his hand drop to his side.

“You’re right. I’ll… I should get some rest.”

Marion nodded, fading from sight. Tegata looked at the other two, then back at the window.

Rin’s speech was naive, but Tegata couldn’t deny that, for the first time, he had felt truly excited. The sensation had almost been forgotten, only to be seized by the hand and rescued from the precipice oblivion. But, he still was not free. Freedom remained on the inexorable horizon: the moment of his absolution. Marion never offered judgement, only brief consul. It irritated him, fully and deeply. Tegata knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it, but was he strong enough? Were his actions even justified? Did that even matter? Would anything make a difference?

He didn’t have those answers. Not right now.

Reaching up to the ceiling, he tugged on the beaded metal chain, extinguishing both lights: the lights of the hot, dusty bulb overhead, and the light on that damning train of thought.

Rest was necessary in mind and body.

Vengeance required a vessel, after all.