�Well then,� I start, trying to accept all of this somewhat unbelievable information, �why isn�t he here then?�
�That�s the biggest problem and why we need your help. Apparently, if Arashi gets killed, he forgets everything from his previous life. I think it was a safeguard of theirs; in case he ever wanted revenge against them.�
�Or went on to become an Agent of Chaos,� I say mostly to myself, �but whatever. That�s insane, but not nearly as insane as some of the things I�ve seen while stuck in Raidien, so I can believe it. But how, exactly, do I fit into this?� �Well,� Sora says with a small sigh, �I�m sure you�ve heard of the �new� Agents of Chaos. Ever since Ara�s �death� two years ago, we�ve been targeting Raidien. That�s how we found out all that information. But two things still pose a problem. For one, we have no idea why they�re doing this, and for another they have Ara. Since he�s forgotten his �past life,� they worked it to their advantage.�
�So you need me to help you solve these problems.�
�Basically, yes.�
I�m getting too old for this shit. Twenty-five, and too old. Give me ten more years, and I�ll be yelling at kids to get off my lawn. If I live that long, that is.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair.
�I�m grateful you saved my life and all, I really am. But I can�t help you chase after them. I�ll do it myself. What you three need to do is disappear until they forget about you, lest you become their next targets.�
�You can�t be serious,� Satoru protests, then proceeds to show he�s only eighteen, still so young, �you can�t turn down your fellow Agents of Chaos with something like this.�
�You are not my �fellow Agents of Chaos,�� I growl, being harsher than I first intended, �that title belonged to Arashi and I alone, and it will die with us. I don�t need you three adopting it and running around getting into trouble. You think Arashi wants his brother to live as much of a strife-filled life as he did? We lived that way because we had no choice. Don�t be stupid and throw your chance for a peaceful life away.�
For awhile, no one said anything. Sora and Saburo were looking at each other, as if they were having some silent counsel, and Satoru just stared at me in an insulted way.
�You can�t just expect me to do nothing,� he says in a low tone, �to sit by while they have him.�
�You�re right,� I said, preparing to change that look of triumph on his face back into one of anger, �but I�m not expecting it. I�m telling you you can�t do anything.�
I took advantage of the fact he was struck speechless by this and headed out the door, back into the snow without another word. I understand how he feels, I do. I�d feel the same way if some asshole like myself just told me I�m useless in saving someone I care about.
But what I said was true. Arashi wanted the name of the Agents of Chaos to die with us, not be passed on. And especially not to his younger brother. Not to a kid who actually has the opportunity to live peacefully, unlike ourselves.
None of them moved to stop me as I headed out the door, which was fine with me. I had somewhere to go, and no sane person should go anywhere near the place.
It�s snowing as I walk down the streets in the morning light, and walking among the crowd here, I almost feel normal. It�s the kind of small town where everyone knows everyone and, unlike larger cities, they don�t seem to mind that I�m out of place. They know what the company a mile or so away from town is up to, and, if anything, being someone like me (someone the company obviously had a hold of at one point) just makes them kinder to you. In fact, I end up arguing with a middle-aged woman for ten minutes over the fact that �Yes, I really am fine. No, I don�t need a place to stay. Yes, I�m sure.�
It�s a bit much, but it�s the thought that counts, as they say.
This little town used to be a city some number of years ago, though an earthquake ended up destroying most of it, and the city budget couldn�t cover all the extensive repairs, so it shrank into the small town it is now. But there�s still ruins of its former glory around, and the steady stream of people heading down the street starts to thin out as I approach the former industrial district. I don�t know if it�s because the industrial district is more or less a gateway to Raidien or what, but I�ve always hated it. Going through it, by it, even looking at it some days.
From the street I�m on to the company is a straight path down the center of the industrial district and I pause to glance down it, trying to figure out if I really want to put myself in the position of being caught again or not.
Well, it is for Ara, is it not?
Stress and nervousness tend to force the smoker in me to the surface, so I fish around in the left inside pocket of my jacket for my lighter as I start heading through the industrial district.
I�m not sure what I�m thinking (maybe I wasn't), but as I finally reach Raidien, I waltz right into the front lobby. Screw you, subtlety. I don�t need you; even though I�m pretty sure they�ll welcome me back with a hail of gunfire once they realize I�m here.
A blast of warm air hits me in the face as I pull open one of the glass doors and I step inside bringing a cold wind and some snow with me. The secretary looks up, sees me standing by the door like I belong here, then has to double take. She flips through a file next to her and hardly a minute later she�s on the phone. I can�t quite hear what�s being talked about, but I�m pretty sure I heard the phrase �Tell the President��
The voice in the back of my mind that�s labeled �self-preservation� (which I ignore all too often) screams at me to get the hell out of here, but a meeting with the famous Raidien Company President may get me the answers I want if I pretend I�m coming crawling back. I�ve found from experience the president likes to give to benefit of the doubt to former �employees� (see: experimental projects) like myself.
�Ah, sir�there�s��
The secretary trails off with whatever she was going to say, seeming nervous as I glance up at her, and a hand suddenly reaches over from my right to snatch the cigarette in my mouth.
�There�s no smoking in the building, Adel.�
I blink as the secretary�s sentence is finished for her, and I�m not sure I want to look over to my right. But I do anyway. Arashi�s standing there, smirk in place, of course. Only he would do such a smart assed thing. He takes a drag, then tilts his head back slightly to blow out the smoke as the cig is deposited in the ashtray conveniently to his left. Way to follow your own rules there, Harada.
