~~~

“They lost him… how could these whores call themselves the best killers in town?”

“This task screamed ‘failure’ from the very beginning, Grumpy… and keep it quiet, Flare needs some rest.”

She was asleep on the sofa—the one that had been the place for singing funny drinking songs just a couple of days ago. The dawn was slowly coming, and the sun was crawling up behind the eastern windows of the Blue Cat. Too many events had happened in the past week, and Niji had dozed off the very moment her head touched the soft padding. Dammit and Dasnor were at a table nearby, both of them concentrated and perturbed.

“If they are late,” the healer said, “that means PRISM knows everything.”

“I’ve called for the whole squad here.”

“And Fiber?”

“Are you kidding? He’s the last person who should be notified about any of this.”

“You think he’ll sell Niji out to the cult before black and whites get hold of her?”

“Yes. You didn’t tell him her power is awakening, did you?”

“I wanted to, but I just… can’t.” It was obvious that Dammit was nervous like never before. “Not that it really happened, right? Still… don’t you think Fiber’s initial plan could be better for her?”

“Seriously? Do you really believe that?”

“What choice does she have now? The cops will just hunt her down.”

“Let’s stop them, then.”

“Are you gonna fight?”

“Shouldn’t we? You suggest giving up when there’s still a chance to help her? We are a team, Dammit. There’s no way we can leave her alone!”

“As a kind reminder, her curse will be news to the others. And there might be some people who won’t support you in this.”

“I know, right? I’ll take her upstairs, then we go and discuss everything with the guys. No need for her hearing what we’ll be talking about.”

“I’ve cast Tranquil Dream on her, so she won’t be able to anyway, but… I guess you’re right. She should recover her strength a bit. She’ll definitely need it.” Dammit propped his chin looking at the girl. “My, she’s so adorable when she’s sleeping. Never seen Flare like that. Always jumping, running, worrying, working her ass out.”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet gal, eh? You have quite the taste, Grumpy.”

“Oh shut up, will you?”

“And I’ve also refreshed her aura that messes with arcane radars!” Dammit beamed at him with a smile. “Freyja finally cracked about the trick.”

“That’s nice. Thank you.”

Dammit shone from being acknowledged. Dasnor lifted the girl in his arms and carried her to the upper floor room decorated in a “country” style. The Lackluster put Niji on the bed lit by the warm sun rays and covered with checkered sheets, and she curled up on it without waking. Dasnor sat down beside her and realized how worn-out he was. Death was a tedious business enough, but not even Dammit could have cured the void that had formed in his heart. He had no idea where it came from. He felt he had lost something important that he wasn’t able to grasp.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Dasnor moved aside a hair lock from Niji’s face. The girl slept so peacefully, as if there were none of the insane events happening around. Dammit was right: she looked different. So relaxed, serene, happy. Had he indeed seen her like that before? For some reason, it seemed to him that he had. But when was it?

“If only I could remember...” he muttered and left the room, scolding himself for being overly sentimental.

~~~

Aoi Omnious applied her ID card that allowed her inside the skyscraper. Although the Celestial felt very much harried after the fight with Satoru, she tried to maintain an energetic look. Having almost reached the counter the reception girls were chirping behind, Aoi saw in the corner of her eye an employee of the PR department, a lively young woman named Kana Misawa, running towards her. She was so small that her head was somewhere below Aoi’s chest.

“Omnious-san! Omnious-san! Hello there! Do you have a minute?”

“What is it?” she grumbled.

“The press office really wants to see a full version of the report on yesterday’s incident,” Kana kept on tweeting. “The more details, the better! We’ve given an official comment last night, but the higher-ups demand we emphasize how timely the actions of the task force were, and for that—”

“Okay, I’ll get Izumi to write the report for you by eleven.”

“Oh, we’ve pinged him already. Said he was too busy.”

“Izumi-kun?” Aoi was finally interested in the conversation. “Is he here?”

“Seen him a few hours ago.”

“Well, at least somebody managed to stay an early bird after all this.”

“Could we please hurry, Ominous-san? We need the info ASAP! Otherwise this filthy Katarina will publish her article before our press release and—”

“I’ll send it to you by e-mail,” Aoi said through gritted teeth and turned away from Kana.

She wasn’t able to escape as another woman in a business suit bumped into her with hands full of papers. She danced a bit, trying not to drop her heap of prints, and exclaimed, “Ah, Aoi, you’re just the person I’m looking for! Need these docs signed.”

After a lot of effort, she fished out a sheet with squiggles of various shapes in it. Aoi scanned the content with a frown. “And what’s this for?”

“Just sign here that you accept a new reporting form. All heads of the departments must do it.”

Great, more paperwork, the Celestial thought to herself. She left a quick scribble next to her surname and left both women, with Kana screaming behind her, “The report, Ominous-san, pleeeeease! The repooooort!”

Never before had her travel to the elevators been so long: on her way she had to refuse to conduct a preventive talk with Academy students abusing their powers (“I deal with criminals, not teenage idiots”), promise to advise on the blade enchantment (“As soon as I have time”) and decline an offer to drink coffee with a sassy dude from the Magical Substance Control department (“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”). Aoi was sure someone would stick to her in the elevator, but fate graciously granted her half a minute of respite. She went up to the floor where the Unit resided and saw Hitomi in the corridor. Crossing her arms, she propped up the door to her own office.

“Sunshiny morning to you, Aoi-san. John de Lat called. You know, that one from the factory that produces cosmetic potions for Ayumi’s clinic.”

“Let me guess. This lunatic is sure some spirits are stealing his products again?”

“Exactly.”

“No, the third false call is a bit too much.”

“Figures. But what should I tell him?”

“Recommend a therapist, maybe.”

Hitomi grunted and got lost behind the door. Aoi flashed past Takeshi Izumi’s office, but then went back and entered without knocking.

“Bright day, Izumi-kun.”

“Bright day to you, Aoi-san.”

He was sitting at the desk with his back to the window, occupied with mahjong solitaire. Aoi looked in perplexion at the pile of tiles stacked in a certain shape—he was somewhere in the middle of the process. Izumi always saw the puzzle as sort of entertainment, but he’d never indulged himself at the beginning of the working day. He’d also been drinking too much coffee.

“You alright?” the Commander asked. “Not enough sleep?”

“Where does this conclusion come from?”

“Three cups and it’s not even a lunch yet.”

“Oh…”

“Also, I heard you came to work earlier than usual.”

“Sometimes I do, why so surprised? Imagine Shadow arriving on time, then it would be an extraordinary event. But me? Not so much.”

“And still…”

“Everything’s fine, Aoi.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I am.”

Aoi, still expressing an extreme degree of doubt, peered at the empty desk in the other corner of the room.

“Is Rem here?”

Izumi, without raising his eyes to his boss, removed two tiles and said, “Not to my knowledge. At least, I haven’t seen him today.”