YF sat down on the park bench and placed his two-pack of tallboy beers next to him. It was a work night, which meant anyone with a stable job had gone to Nishida already. Seeing Itsugo so quiet was not a new thing – YF had gone on patrol often to get out of the cramped office; he had also seen the empty district through his drone. But on that day he was not on duty, which gave him a different perspective of his home. Perhaps it was the realization that nobody lived in Itsugo because they wanted to, but because they had to. The atmosphere of the district was bad enough; on top of that they had to put up with the long commutes to Nishida, draining their time and energy. YF couldn’t remember the last time he gave himself room to sit and ponder. Now that he did, he wasn’t sure what to think.
In the middle of the park stood one of the countless statues of Revir Enellen that dotted the whole country. YF was sure that had Enellen and Menetakh Efon lost the independence war thousands of years ago that they would be considered no different than the sectarians of the modern era. Could the two really be equated though? No, the independence war was for a just cause, while half the time nobody knew what the sectarians wanted. YF mouthed Enellen and Efon’s names out loud, shaking his head. The pale Reo used to have such strange names. He was thankful that all of them – like Lydia a.k.a. Reika – eventually adopted the daywalker naming convention, with nice and easy to pronounce names like Tanaka and Ishida. YF envied Revir Enellen. At least she knew exactly what she was fighting for. What was anyone in the two islands living for now?
“The machine has a life of its own,” Erika had told him.
“Yes it does,” he said out loud.
YF popped open his first beer can, raising it to the statue of Revir Enellen and taking a sip. He then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Well…it’s going to be an uneventful evening.”
Right when he had that thought, a man came into view on the path to the right. His clothes suggested he was not one of the homeless people that frequented the park. At first, YF mistook the man for another local on a day off, but as the man came closer, YF realized he was a daywalker. And not just any daywalker, a foreign daywalker. The man had dark brown eyes – not the blue or red typically found in Reo – and he had very dark skin, suggesting he was Ardan.
YF looked away to be polite and waited for him to pass in front of the bench. But moments later he felt the bench vibrate from the man sitting down, causing him to jump a bit in surprise.
“Mind if I join you?” the man asked in Ardan accented Kazen.
“Sure,” said YF, pulling his second beer over to himself a bit. He then hesitated, and raised the unopened can toward him. “Want one?”
“You sure?” the man asked.
“Yeah. Probably shouldn’t be drinking too much so early in the night anyway.”
The man took the can and popped the tab, taking a sip. “How’s your evening been?”
“Day off. Not much happening.”
“You’re an officer with the Sentinels right?” asked the man.
“You live here?” asked YF, growing suspicious.
The man lifted his eyes to indicate a building near the park. “Over there, tenth floor.”
YF figured he wasn’t lying. “Officers exist at the Ward Office, not here. Here the Sentinels just run on donations and spotty funding. But I suppose you’ve seen me around, so you know the answer.”
“Not a lot of officers patrol in person. Makes you memorable,” said the man. “The network clip of you dashing out of a burning building with a man on your back helped that out too.”
“What’s your name?”
“Kigali.”
“Easy enough to remember.”
“It’s not the complete name, but it’s easier to pronounce and it’s what’s in my ID,” said Kigali, raising his wrist.
“So what’s your story Kigali? What brings you to the great town of Itsugo?” asked YF as he pointed up at the rusted metal roads, the dilapidated buildings, and the polluted skies. “I heard Ard is a rich place.”
Kigali grinned. “You saying I don’t belong here?”
YF’s first thought on entering the park came back to him. “I don’t think anyone belongs here.”
“Not everyone in Ard is rich. That would be impossible, as you can imagine.”
“But you don’t look or sound like you come from the scrap heap of society. How’d you end up in this dump?”
“We don’t care about saving face as much as the Kazen people do.”
“Then what?”
Kigali took one long gulp of the beer and smacked his lips. “I’m a businessman. As most ‘daywalkers’ in this great country are.”
“Yeah I never understood that,” said YF taking another sip. “There must be better countries to do business in than ones where the local populace is known to feed on your kind’s blood for sustenance.”
“Even by her time, such practices were over,” said Kigali, pointing the beer at the statue of Revir Enellen.
YF thought back to the image of Erika feeding on the sectarian woman. “Apparently not.”
“But myths and legends can be so powerful that it will cause generations upon generations of people to stay away from this place because of them,” said Kigali. “What a shame, it’s a beautiful country.”
During the independence thousands of years ago, Revir Enellen had actually died halfway through it, with Menetakh Efon eventually emerging as the first Reo King of Kazen in centuries. But there was also the strange and controversial figure of an Ardan man named Roen who – depending on who you asked – ranged from a Reo culture obsessed maniac to the actual liberator of the two islands altogether.
“There was the thing with Roen,” said YF.
“Aha…” said Kigali. “See, our people are more tied together than at first appears.”
YF decided to change the subject. “You work in Nishida? Took the night off?”
“No I work here.”
“Here as in Itsugo?”
“Yes sir,” said Kigali.
“Client facing?”
“Actually not really.”
“Well I can’t say I blame you. Even if you weren’t a daywalker, we don’t exactly have the friendliest residents around here. So you work during the day?”
“I work at night, like everyone else.”
YF raised an eyebrow. “Why? Not like you need to meet anyone.”
“You do as the locals do if you want to make money. Most people trust my work is top notch, but I do get the occasional phone call,” said Kigali.
“Oh? Slow day then?”
“I just had a minute,” said Kigali finishing his beer. “Thanks for the drink.”
“I take it you have a business proposal for me too Mr. Kigali. You’re obviously the hustling type.”
“Very good officer.”
“Name’s YF,” said YF.
“Nice to meet you YF. If you’ll indulge my curiosity, I’d like to hear your thoughts on what you think I came here for.”
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“Well let’s see.” YF set his can with about one sip left on the bench. “You say you don’t work in Nishida, you work here. There’s not a lot to do here that doesn’t involve the village government. You don’t seem like a rail mechanic, street cleaner, or such so the government isn’t it. If you sold food you wouldn’t be sitting with me. Ard’s always been known for their high tech stuff. The burn scars on your hands suggest to me that you either make or modify machinery for the sectarians.”
“That’s an interesting observation Mr. Sentinel. You sound like you should be at the Ward Office,” said Kigali.
YF frowned. “Yeah, I should be,” he thought.
“You’re aware of the incident on National Road 5 a few days ago,” said Kigali.
“Saw it on the news,” said YF.
“You’ve probably heard Ard is a harsh place. Brutal heat and sandstorms.”
“And out of that land the legendary Ardan Knights were born, conquering the world including these islands where we are seated now.” YF finished his beer. “I always heard Ardans were supposed to be direct, but you like to talk the way we do – in circles. So I take it you want to supply the Sentinels, the Ward Police or both with Ardan modifications to prevent an incident like the one you mentioned.”
Kigali nodded. “There are likely to be more disturbing events in the near future. Ard doesn’t export a lot of their knowhow, as you know. But this is not the era of tight borders and strict controls. Problem is even if I get the parts I need permits to operate in the open and I need legal acceptance of higher level mods.”
YF laughed. “You’re talking about changing the minds of the National Assembly. Who do you think I am?”
“Something much more than you think you are.”
YF folded his arms. “I’m flattered, really, but I think you don’t know anything about me.”
“Fitting the vehicles of the Ward Police could be a first start. I’m sure if you could help me broker a deal with them it’ll put you in their good graces.”
“And what makes you think I want to be in their good graces?”
“It doesn’t look like this will be your last gig. We could both help each other out. I make some money, the Ward Police is more effective, and you broker a project for the benefit of all society. I don’t see how this is a bad idea,” said Kigali.
YF tapped his hand on the bench armrest for a few moments. “I need to take a nap, been having headaches recently.”
Kigali got up. “You think on it a bit. Come back here when you have an answer.”
***
YF heard a loud pounding on the door followed by multiple presses to his doorbell. His first instinct on throwing off the covers was that the Blue Rose had come back. But there was no voice through the intercom, indicating it was probably someone else. YF jogged to the panel next to his door and turned on the camera.
He then immediately slid open his door. “What are you doing here?”
A man in a very expensive suit stepped into the house. “Why do you think? I heard about the Sentinel Station, your building and all that. I should have come much earlier but we were in the middle of securing a deal. I called Kuroda who assured me you were fine.”
YF gazed at the striking figure of his brother, the paragon of the self made man, the complete opposite of himself. He had imagined all the things he would grill Hiroyuki about regarding his secret meetings with Erika, but with the man now standing before him, he found his feelings just as complex as before. Hiroyuki’s concern seemed genuine, and his tone did not contain any sort of condescension. If anything, it felt like the old days, just that his older brother now had a better shirt.
“Got a beer?” asked Hiroyuki.
“Uh…sure. Let’s sit on the couch.”
Hiroyuki hung his suit jacket on a chair hastily and unclasped his watch, dropping it on the dining table. He then took the tallboy of cheap beer that YF handed to him, walking over to the couch and sitting in Erika’s spot. “Third time here. But it feels like just yesterday.”
The first time had been during the wedding. Hiroyuki didn’t approve of YF living with Erika before they had married, and so had never shown up before then. He then visited YF and Erika only once after their marriage, in which he and Erika argued over politics. Hiroyuki never came again.
“Figured I would come before COB to avoid an incident like the one last time,” said Hiroyuki.
“COB? Asked YF.”
“Close of business, when Erika comes home from work.”
“She isn’t coming from work today.”
Hiroyuki raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Big fight. Staying somewhere else.”
“Huh,” said Hiroyuki, gulping down half the can of beer. “Mom used to do that too.” Hiroyuki waved his hand in front of the TV to turn it on. It was the same news program YF had watched the previous evening.
“She all right? Mom?” asked YF.
“Yeah I tried to tell her to retire, put her up in an apartment in the capital. She said the capital was too busy for her and she wouldn’t know what to do if she stopped working.”
YF’s mother did not like Erika, and he had not spoken to his mother in person since a year or two after she found out they were dating. She also didn’t show up to the wedding, which made Hiroyuki the family representative at the ceremony – something YF was still thankful for. YF texted his mother afterwards a few times but they had mostly just lost touch. Though she and Hiroyuki would never tell it to his face, YF now suspected that they did a background check of Erika and figured out she was an ex-sectarian. One thing that carried over from ancient times was that Reo mothers wanted their children, particularly sons, to find spouses from good families of proper social standing. Even if they didn’t know about Erika’s colorful past, she most definitely didn’t fit the profile of what his mother was looking for.
Hiroyuki passed on many girls at their mother’s behest, though he did eventually marry one Hata Yui, an heiress to some pure blood family. YF was sure that his new sister-in-law knew Reina somehow; those types of people always corresponded. He had heard that the Hata family tried to force Hiroyuki to change his last name and be formally adopted into their family, the way noble families without sons had done for thousands of years. But Hiroyuki refused, even after their own mother tried to intercede on behalf of the Hata family. Those were the types of things that made it difficult for YF not to admire him. Hata’s family somehow gave in to Hiroyuki’s demands, and now he had been married about half a year. YF had gone to that wedding alone.
“How is big sis?” asked YF.
“Oh, Yui? She’s fine,” said Hiroyuki, distracted by the TV. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Hiroyuki broke it again. “I think you should talk to mom.”
“And say sorry for marrying Erika?” YF’s face contorted in anger. “If that’s what she expects she can forget she had a second son.”
“I didn’t say you need to say anything in particular,” said Hiroyuki.
“Did she tell you to talk to me?”
Hiroyuki shook his head. “You know we don’t do that in this family. If there’s a problem, we fight it out one on one. No third parties. That’s the Sakai way.”
“Then what’s your angle?” asked YF.
“Mom’s getting old. And won’t admit that she misses you terribly. But I’m sure she cries herself to sleep every night.”
“How would you know that?”
“I just do.”
YF sat down next to Hiroyuki on the couch. “I’ll think about it.”
“Sure,” said Hiroyuki. Hiroyuki drank more of his beer. “You ever talk to any daywalkers?”
YF thought about the man in the park. “No,” said YF.
“Yeah they don’t travel around much I guess.”
“What about the daywalkers?” asked YF.
“You’d think being so afraid of us they’d be a bit more respectful at meetings,” Hiroyuki lamented.
“I’m sure the ones that actually come here are a whole different level of crazy. They’re not afraid of anything.”
“Yeah,” said Hiroyuki.
At that moment the news reran clips of the Blue Rose raid at Nojuku-Yonchome against Double Phoenix Sect. Hiroyuki shook his head. “You see this shit?”
“I was out that night. Heard about it on the news after.”
“Out? Like out drinking?”
“Was right after the fight.”
“Oh,” said Hiroyuki, which meant he was not going to pursue that topic further. “But yeah look at the boosters on the bike.”
The video clip showed YF charging across the expressway with the cops on his tail.
“Not this part, just wait, they’ll play it,” said Hiroyuki.
At the point that YF boosted over the median and disappeared down the westbound ramp, Hiroyuki tsked in admiration. “Two sectarians ran off with Hayashi Tohei’s daughter in the middle of rush hour with the whole damn Ward Police on their tail. Wow.”
“It is pretty crazy.”
“You remember when Saru used to mod our bikes in school? You still have your Tanaka R1?”
Kitase Satoru, or “Saru” on account of his immense size, was exactly the person who had modified YF’s Tanaka R1.
“Uh...yeah I still have it. But I don’t think Saru could get these sorts of mods,” said YF pointing at the TV.
“No, I reckon he can,” said Hiroyuki. “Well let’s hope the national police get their asses. Hayashi Tohei’s going to throw a fit.”
“You think the Ward Police can’t do it?” asked YF.
“Fuck Uraga,” said Hiroyuki as he finished his beer. “He’s the reason you can’t get into the academy. And it looks like his men are shit anyway. Can’t catch two terrorists on a bike.”
“Hey,” said Hiroyuki, slapping the can onto YF’s arm. “I can’t do much about the police academy but I could help you skip the list on something else. You want to take another path?”
YF shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.”
“You know, if your goal was to catch the bastards that bombed Kamakura Road, they’ve already been dealt with. I hope you have a different reason for trying to get into law enforcement.”
“What do you mean?” asked YF.
Hiroyuki grinned a sly grin. “I can’t get into that now. But I’ll tell you eventually, don’t worry.”
YF examined Hiroyuki’s expression as the latter stared at the clips of Blue Rose dumping artillery into the sectarian compound. The look of glee in his face creeped YF out.
“Well if Erika’s not coming back for a while, mind if I crash here one night?” asked Hiroyuki.
“...Sure,” said YF.