Kazin

I awake to an unbearable stench that pokes at my nostrils. It reeks so badly that the air itself seems to carry weight. I can hardly breathe. When I try to move my arms to cover my nose, it feels like I’m trying to lift a dumbbell with a stick. The exertion is too great for me, I lack any sense of balance, and I soon resign myself to my fate and breathe laboriously through my mouth instead.

“I can smell your breath from here, asshole,” Jin says.

I laugh because I am relieved to hear his voice. We’re in complete darkness. We are in somewhat of a debacle. I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

“We in the Underbelly?” I ask.

“Yep,” Jin says matter-of-factly. “We are most definitely in the Underbelly. This is the smell of under the belly. Shit.” I can hear him sigh. “Damn Kargu with her green beamShot. I hope Mugen and Kala are alright.”

“Yeah,” I answer. “How are your bioEnhancements?”

“Overextended and overused,” Jin says. The clink of metal rings in the hollow air as he taps his arms together. “When we get out of this, I will be paying a visit to your Healers.”

“If we get out of this,” I reply, kicking at the ground.

“Why so pessimistic?” Jin scoffs. “An almighty Joryoku should never be self-doubting, the cocky bastards you all are.”

“Well,” I say, ignoring the jibe, “for one, I’m all out of juice. I can barely move my arms and legs.”

I hear a pause that implies the struggle of curiosity.

“I was in an accident,” I say. “I’m not like the others. I need my bioEnhancements to move like how you would normally.”

“Oh,” Jin says quietly. I can hear the dirt scraping beneath his legs as he shifts them to fill the ensuing silence. “That’s too bad. Sorry about that.”

“So now, my turn.” I had been itching to ask this question since the moment I met Jin, and I’m glad I finally have the excuse to. “Why do you hate the Joryoku so much?”

“Huh. You serious? You know most people do, right?”

“Well,” I say sheepishly. “Yes, I do know that. But you in particular. You abhor them. You hated me the moment you set eyes on me. Why?”

“Pffff.” There’s a short silence. “Nothing against you in particular, Kazin. But all the Joryoku really are, are just scumbags who clean up the trash for rich people in their corporate towers.”

“Yeah, I know that too.”

I can hear Jin turning to face me. “Then why’d you join them?”

I laugh. “You’re in a gang yourself.”

“The Seven Star Mob is different,” Jin insists. “We exist to protect Royang. We look out for others. You guys, not so much.”

“You said yourself that the Yamda were different. Honorable.”

“Just fluff I needed to say to get Norbu all greased up for our negotiations,” Jin says. “A pig of a different shade is still a pig.”

I purse my lips. All the things that had happened over the past several months, from my abduction to Dad’s murder—I had kept it so bottled up within me, buried it deep inside and tucked away the memories in some dark corner of my mind, that I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted to talk to someone about it until this moment. Whatever I say, it can’t make Jin hate me more.

“My dad…” I begin, pausing when I feel the lump in my throat. I swallow, hard. “I needed to get back at someone. The Joryoku were the only avenue through which I thought I could get what I wanted. And besides, I owe them.” I gaze through the darkness at where my arms and legs are sprawled on the ground. “They gave me new hope.”

“The Kargu killed your dad?” Jin guesses. There’s a long pause. I assume Jin’s collecting his thoughts, swallowing hard so he doesn’t start crying too. “Same with me. My folks were murdered by a Joryoku assassin.” He chuckles, as if he’s relieved to have finally gotten it out. But his voice still trembles when he speaks. “Yeah. They were scientists. I wasn’t always a mobster, man. I used to be a preppy schoolboy, all into books and coding and nerdy stuff like that. Like, my dad would accompany me to Hackathons, spend his weekends with me like that. It’s weird, how it’s the small stuff you end up remembering. My mom, she used to pack me these sandwiches for lunch, and I’d whine so much, because I wanted fried chicken or pizza instead. And she thought if she made fancier sandwiches, that I’d like them better. Yeah.” He clears his throat. “So you like, want to get back at someone?”

“Yeah,” I say. I scratch my wrists uneasily. I think it’s the first time I am saying this with such resolve, as a clearly defined goal in my life. “I’m going to kill Chairman Gato and his son.” After I’ve said it, it feels set in stone.

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“Gato,” Jin mumbles. “Shampai Group?” he says abruptly.

“Yeah.”

The silence that follows is one that’s hard to grasp. It’s the threshold that lies at the cusp of friendship, if only we allow ourselves; it’s that strange border that lies between acceptance of one another across the chasm of awkwardness. But it is also a silence in which we know we have something we share, that we have common cause, and therefore a newfound sense of camaraderie for it.

It is Jin who shatters that barrier between us. “So I guess, like, we were both ducklings, and uh, when my folks got mauled by a dog, I joined the other ducks, while you went off and joined the dogs so you can bite the hand that feeds them.”

I smile in the darkness and nod my head back and forth. “Yeah.”

I can feel Jin smiling too.

The door to our prison creaks open.

We shield our eyes from the light emanating without. A skinny figure stands at the doorway, hands on their hips.

“Good to see you’re both awake.” It’s a girl’s voice.

“And who might we have the pleasure of speaking to?” Jin says in a tone dripping with sarcasm. He really needs to reel that in, I think to myself. We are, after all, her prisoners.

“Your captor,” the girl says in a voice just as sardonic.

Oh. No worries there, I suppose.

The girl swivels her finger at us. “You mind carrying that half-robot friend of yours? He’s in need of juice, and I’ve just obtained a battery compatible with his bioEnhancements.”

Jin pushes himself onto his feet and hauls me onto mine. “Damn Kaz, you really can’t move at all?”

I shake my head. “Like a sitting duck. Or, I guess in my case, a lame dog.”

Jin scoffs.

We drag ourselves out of our makeshift prison. We stumble through the doorway, out into a large yard. Our prison was a shed of rusty steel, and the yard is surrounded by others just like it, though each is of a different size. Many lean precariously, others look like houses of cards.

I’m not sure if the night is dark and starless, or if the smog is so thick in the air that there’s a screen of sludge between us and the sky. Far to our left, the smoke still lies thick above Royang.

“How long have we been out?” I ask.

“About three hours after I found you guys,” the girl says. “Not much.”

I turn to the girl, having nearly forgotten about her existence. She is a thin and frail thing with straw-colored hair that tumbles below her narrow shoulders. She’s wearing a tanktop and overalls, all smeared with grease. She reminds me of a hummingbird in terms of both how she looks and the rapidity of her movements. Her arms are crossed, and she’s tapping her foot against the ground, looking us up and down.

“The tall one’s Joryoku, without a doubt,” she muses. “But what about the blonde-haired anchovy beside him? Are you from the Seven Star Mob?”

“The kettle calls the pot black,” Jin sneers. “You’re quite blonde anchovy yourself, thank you very much.

The girl grins a flash of white, albeit crooked teeth. “Touched a sore spot, did I?”

“Hardly,” Jin grimaces, narrowing his eyes.

“What’s your name?” I ask the girl. “My name’s Kazin, and this one’s Jin.”

“Hm. Manners. I like that.” She wags her finger at Jin. “Anchovy’s got too much spice for my liking.” She extends the same hand in greeting. “My name’s Ghost.”

We both shake her hand, me with much difficulty, Jin very reluctantly.

“Is this the Underbelly?” I ask her. I lean heavily against Jin. The energy is seeping from my bones. I can feel it.

“Underbelly,” Ghost scoffs. “That’s what you inner-city snobs like to call this place, but we prefer the name, Copper Commune.”

“Copper Commune?” Jin says incredulously.

“Well, first things first,” I interject. “But might I have that battery you offered?”

Ghost gives us a wry smile before sauntering towards a shack across the yard. “Follow me.”

We oblige her, and we find ourselves in a small house. Actually, a tiny house. Toilet, sink, stove, and bed have all been crammed into a space smaller than my old bedroom. Despite its compact size, Ghost has somehow made the place feel homey.

Ghost drags a battery out from underneath her bed and gestures at me to sit. When Jin makes to take his seat beside me, Ghost looks up.

“Ah,” she snaps, squinting her eyes. “Not you, Anchovy.”

Jin stares at her with his mouth agape, his face a study in befuddlement. Ghost pays him no mind as she hooks a number of wires into my spinalChip.

“It was really hard getting this, you know,” she says. “I had to speak to Old Man Hakizawa—I have to work at his scrapyard for three days without wages now.” She switches the battery on, and I can almost feel the energy shooting through my veins. Ghost bats her lashes at me. “Surely the inner-city boy will be paying?”

“I can transfer you some links,” I agree. “And more for the kindness you’ve shown us. Thank you.”

Ghost nods, a satisfied smile painted across her face. “It was a pain getting you both on my crawler, but don’t pay too much mind. Oh, and don’t thank me just yet.” She yawns and taps her hand over her mouth. “This battery will only provide you with about an hour’s worth of energy. Your parts are a wee bit different, I’m afraid. The charger you need, Joryoku, will be over at the Factory.”

“The Factory?” I say, dismayed. I need to get back to Royang, but that endeavor will be impossible without a full charge. “Where is this Factory?”

“Only about fifteen minutes from my place,” Ghost assures me. “I can take you there. And most of the guards seem to have cleared out tonight, in any case.” She shrugs her slim shoulders.

“You think we have time for that?” I ask Jin.

“Don’t think it matters if we have time or not,” Jin says. “We need to get you enough juice so that you can travel until falling into the range of our energyTower at Royang Shopping Center.” He looks out Ghost's single window, towards the smoke above Royang. “And you’ll need enough for at least one or two bioCharges, just in case we run into any Kargu.”

“Alright,” I say, turning back to Ghost. “So, you think you can take us to this Factory?”

“Sure, I can take you there, but I can’t get you in,” Ghost claims. She scratches furiously at her arms and nose. “Old Man Hazikawa has the keys though. But good luck convincing him.” She points behind us with her chin, out the window. “Speak of the devil. There he is right now.”

Jin and I turn to see a large, hulking man marching towards Ghost's home. He’s not exactly the image of what I imagined when Ghost began speaking of an “Old Man Hazikawa.” His shoulders are like polycarbonate breastplates, and he looks to be broader than he is tall. I think only Hazgal could have matched him in size.

The door swings open, and his silhouette blocks the doorway. He’s definitely old, from the wrinkles on his face, but he still has a full head of white hair.

“Old Man Hazikawa,” Ghost chimes, standing and brushing her hands. “These boys here were wondering if you could get them into the factory. They need a bit of juice, you see.”

Old Man Hazikawa gives me a strange, crooked smile that either implies a liking or belies the insidious.

“Well, well," he says in a deep voice. "If it isn’t Kazin Moyashino. Looking a bit different than you were before.”

I peer into the old man’s eyes. I’ve seen that look somewhere. That brazen, almost uncaring look. I recognize it, without a doubt in my mind. But where had I seen that look before?