“Rin… Rin!”

Someone was calling him.

He really wished they wouldn’t.

“Five more minutes…” The boy grumbled. He rolled to the side, hand outstretched to silence an alarm clock that didn’t exist. He slammed his hand down on nothing, falling off the bench Kinuka had lain him across. He hit the floor and, ignoring the girl’s cry, lay there for a moment more, wondering whether it was even worth it anymore. He could feel the tarmac roughing up his cheek with every slight movement. He could’ve gotten up at any time he wanted, but decided to let himself wallow in the melodrama for a little longer.

Or, at least until Kinuka stopped sounding concerned.

“I know you’re alive, Rin.”

Rin rolled over onto his back. Feeling a dash of cold on his shoulder, he grimaced as he felt the water from the puddle he had rolled into seeping into his shirt.

“Hey, wakey wakey, mister lucky-to-be-alive-because-of-me.” Kinuka put her foot on Rin’s chest, rocking the boy back and forth a couple of times. Her patience was starting to wear thin. The whole playing-dead act for sympathy was starting to grow a little old. “Fancy getting up now?”

Rin groaned. “Not really.”

Kinuka kicked him in the chin.

“Ow!” Rin rolled around some more, clutching at his face. “What the hell was that for?!”

“I don’t know why I even bother,” she huffed and sauntered off further down the alley.

That seemed to have done the trick, however. Soon, Rin was back on his feet, staring after her like she were some kind of alien. Hanging his head, he sighed, attempting to move his jaw back into place with a deal of pain and difficulty.

“For crying out loud…” He grumbled, walking after her. “Is it too much to ask for just five minutes more shut-eye?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Rinkaku Harigane,” Kinuka snapped, turning around to lean close, “but we don’t exactly have the luxury of rest at the moment, do we?”

“Okay!” Rin jumped back. “Sorry—”

“At any moment,” Kinuka’s voice grew higher, the poor girl descending into hysterics, “we could be attacked by any more of those… those things—”

“—Rejects?” Rin offered helpfully.

“I don’t care what they’re called!” Kinuka shrieked, slapping him across the face. “The least you can do, if you’re not going to thank me for bringing you back from the dead, is tell me what in the world you did back in that cafe!”

“You…” Still recoiling from the blow, Rin squinted at her. “How?”

“I…” Kinuka blinked a couple of times, as though not believing it herself. “I don’t even remember—” She clutched at her forehead. “There was this voice in my head. My arms started moving all by themselves—it was so strange—everything was turning into thread and I—” She cut herself off at last, shaking her head.

“I knew it,” Rin said. It was obvious, now he thought about it. At the time, he’d been too worried as to whether or not Kinuka was alive, but all the dots were joined up now.

“Knew what?”

“Watch this.”

Rin twisted the white lines between his fingers until he had fashioned an origami crane. Kinuka watched with fascination.

“That’s so beautiful! How did you—”

“So you can see it. Thought so.”

Rin pointed at her forehead. The girl’s third eye was open. Rin made a thoughtful noise, as he spotted a mirror lying discarded on the alleyway floor. One heavy stomp later, and it shattered. Picking up a shard, he held it up to Kinuka so she could see her own reflection. She was horrified.

“That’s your third eye. You have one just like me.”

Kinuka nodded, still taken aback.

“I’ll try and condense what Architect told me about it all—it’s important you understand, I guess.”

“Wait, who’s Architect—”

“I am.” On cue, the spirit manifested beside Rin.

Kinuka did another double take. “A ghost?!”

“Not incorrect,” said Architect. He hovered there, stern and silent.

Kinuka waited for elaboration that never came. “Not much of a talker, is he?”

Rin rolled his eyes.

It didn’t take long for Kinuka to be clued in about the cognitive world. She nodded along, surprisingly receptive to Rin’s brief explanation.

“So,” she said at last, once the floor was finally hers. “What about those weird shapes you were making before—”

“Ah!” Rin was more than eager to demonstrate. “That’s the power of my specialty.” He performed the hand movements again like he was doing a magic trick, and made another frame. He turned this one into a boat. “Framework, remember?” He was getting more fluent with the motions now, though his hands were starting to hurt slightly.

“That’s so cool!” Kinuka lent forward and oohed at it for a moment. “So, do I get one of those abilities too? You said that all psyche users get a specialty, right?”

Rin scratched the back of his head. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Arch said the ritual we both performed was incomplete. That’s why we have to borrow a specialty until we can make it our own. Right?” He looked at the Architect. The surly man nodded.

Kinuka puzzled over that for a good moment. “Is that why the Seamstress mentioned something about a contract?”

“Seamstress?” The Architect narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah. Back in the cafe, just before I was able to heal your wound, I heard a woman’s voice in my head. I remember that voice, back from when I was a child.” Kinuka faltered for a moment, smiling through the painful nostalgia. “Her spirit was with me too, even back then. I haven’t heard her voice in so long, too, only for her to come back to me now. It hurt so much, and it’s all pretty much a blur, but I remember her saying the word contract.”

“This Seamstress,” the Architect said at last. “Can you contact her now?”

Kinuka shook her head. “I can’t feel her presence. Not at the moment, anyway.”

“Reach out into the depths of your soul,” he ordered. “Concentrate.”

Kinuka closed her eyes, as psychic energy began to flow around her. Rin could see it accelerating, her third eye the gleaming catalyst. After a few moments, she exclaimed, “I can feel her presence again!”

A strange exuberance had possessed the Architect. “Reach out to her, now!”

Kinuka inhaled sharply and redoubled her concentration. An ethereal breeze swept the alley, and a female spirit manifested from behind the girl. Her angelic form descended into sight, plentiful silver shawls flowing in the breeze.

“Another further spirit?!” Rin cried.

“█████.” The Architect took a step forward. “It has been so long.”

The Seamstress didn’t respond. The corners of her pale mouth turned down slightly. The slightest traipses of a frown.

“My dear, dear █████.” The Architect stood firm. “I implore you, answer me. After all this time, do you no longer recognise me?”

The Seamstress ignored him once more. Painful silence elapsed a couple moments longer, before the spirit shook her head. Turning gracefully on one foot, she began to walk away, each step further into obscurity.

Rin and Kinuka, equally bemused, shared a wide-eyed look before gawking at the Architect for what felt like forever.

“Architect? Context?” Rin asked, scared he might not receive any. Kinuka hurriedly nodded.

The Architect ignored him; the surly spirit evoked a low growl under his breath, and folded his arms.

A strange new sensation—a distinct pinging in his third eye—distracted Rin from whatever the hell that was. “We need to leave, like, now!” He cast a furtive gaze around. The walls of this alleyway, each brick had eyes. All the eyes were all looking at him. He could feel their gazes boring into his skin like searing pinpricks. Was this paranoia? He was on the run from the police, after all. Not bothering to wait, Rin strode off towards the alley’s mouth at the far end.

“Boy!”

Rin froze.

“There are two powerful psychic signatures approaching,” Architect warned. “Keep your guard up.”

Rin could feel it too. His third eye sent out a pulse of psychic energy; seconds later, he heard the faint resonance, like drops of water sending ripples across a still pond.

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“Leaving so soon? Isn’t that a shame,” one voice rang out across the alley.

Rin whipped around, to see the two men standing atop a building opposite.

“How the hell did you get up there?”

They ignored him, jumping down to land softly on the concrete. Rin blinked and stepped back. How did they do that with such grace? Both seemed to slow down before their feet touched the ground, as though they were floating. The man in front had long silvery hair, wearing a black trench coat and hat.

“Who—” Kinuka backed away. “Who are you?”

“No-one to cause you concern.” The hat-wearing man had a deep, smooth tone, if not rasped with the growl of a few too many cigarettes. “We just have some brief business to discuss.”

Rin backed away. A primal fear settled in the pit of his stomach; a paralytic chill shot down his spine. He didn’t know what was worse, the menacing deliberation with which the man walked, the sinister grin, or the fact he couldn’t see the eyes the grin belonged to. He felt the weight of their psychic presences like gravity. The air around him felt heavy. Rin felt his knees begin to give.

“Boy,” Architect said. “You cannot possibly hope to fight these two in your current state. You must run!”

“Kinuka!” Rin caught her attention. “Let’s go!”

The girl didn’t need telling twice. Turning, she bolted after Rin towards the opposite mouth of the alley. Where they were going didn’t matter. They just needed to get away.

“Look at ‘em go,” the other man said. He was even larger than the first. His black suit was in disarray, the tie halfway undone, the jacket practically hanging off his broad shoulders.

“Do something about it.”

“Roger that.” Meguru Yoha grinned.

The man took a bouncy ball out of his pocket and threw it like he was skimming a stone. The ball whistled through the air at incredible speed, ricocheting three, four, five times off of the adjacent walls, until it hit a stick propping up a heavy stack of crates. Knocking the stick away, the boxes crashed to the ground a few metres ahead of where Rin and Kinuka were headed, blocking off any chance the two had at escape.

“Fuck!” Rin ran at the blockade and kicked it, but the wooden crates refused to budge. All he got for his efforts was a searing pain in his foot. The boxes were stacked too high to try climbing them, either.

“I believe you’ve got something of ours, Rinkaku Harigane.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Hideyori Hakana didn’t relent, stopping a couple of metres away and stowing both hands in his pockets. “The Ascension Blade,” he said. “Hand it over, and no-one will get hurt.”

“You think I’m going to fall for that?” Rin’s hand instinctively went to his bag. “Answer my question!”

Hideyori looked amused. “And what will you do if I don’t?”

“He’s—He’s going to cut you in half!” Kinuka threatened.

Rin could see how much she shook. Looking between the two, the tones of their voices, the shapes of their faces. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something looked familiar.

“Is that right?” Hideyori indulged her. “Well, you did manage to dispatch those Rejected all by yourselves.” Never before had a round of applause felt so patronising.

“You… know what those are?!”

The man’s grin told them all they needed to know.

Rin grit his teeth. “I’m not giving you this damn knife, and that’s that.”

“How about we consider this a trade?” Hideyori took out one hand, holding a small glass orb. It swelled in his palm to the size of a football, revealing something past its misty surface. Inside was Katsuro Harigane, bloodied and bruised, bound against the wall, barely conscious.

“Dad?!” Rin’s eyes shot wide. Kinuka stifled a scream.

“I’m sure you know what this means, kid,” Hideyori spun the orb in one hand, though the image within remained static. “You hand over the blade, and we’ll give you back your father.”

“You will?!”

The man’s grin became even further pronounced.

“Promise.”

“Rin,” Kinuka nudged him. “What’s going on?”

“Dad hasn’t been home for two months,” the boy mumbled. “Didn’t think about it at the time, but…”

“He made a big mistake, sending it to you,” Hideyori continued. “Don’t worry. We’ve made sure he’s learnt his lesson.”

“You bastard.” Rin’s jaw clenched so hard he thought it might shatter.

“Now, kid,” Hideyori’s grin faded. His patience was wearing. “Hand over the blade, or you’ll never see your father again.”

Rin stood there for a moment, shaking. His father hadn’t come back home, now he knew why. All the puzzle pieces were starting to line up: the book, the cryptic notes, the knife, the Rejected. It was all connected.

“Well?” Hideyori reached into his pocket and pulled out a handgun. Pulling it back, the bullet clicked into the chamber.

Handing over the blade wasn’t an option. His father’s warnings made that abundantly clear. Rin knew they needed to escape, but how? He met Kinuka’s gaze for a moment.

“Please!” She cried out. Both men looked at her. “Please don’t shoot us, please—”

The girl began to sob.

Hideyori’s hand didn’t so much as falter. He trained the gun on her instead.

She shrieked.

“Please!” She begged. “We’ll do anything! It’s just— this is all so scary, and—”

“Crocodile tears? Nice try.” The man wasn’t fooled. His gaze still trained on Kinuka, Hideyori pointed the gun away and pulled the trigger. A loud bang shook the alley. Rin yelled in agony and fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg. The series of platforms he’d been busy constructing with Framework faded away.

Kinuka cried out.

“God, will you shut up already?” Meguru growled. He threw his bouncy ball again, and watched it ricochet around the place, before it struck Kinuka hard in the back of the head. Knocked unconscious, the girl crumpled to the floor.

The pain in Rin’s leg was blinding, like a searing hot iron was being pressed into his flesh, but Rin grit his teeth through it. He shuffled backwards, leaning up against the boxes. “Fuck you!”

“If you’re not going to give me the blade willingly,” Hideyori said, “I have no problem with taking it off your corpse.”

“Just try me, asshole!”

Hideyori aimed the barrel down at Rin’s forehead and fired.

The bullet never met its mark. The frame Rin made as a shield shattered under the force like glass.

“Not bad, kid,” Hideyori grinned. “Let’s see how long you can keep it up.”

Hideyori fired once, twice, three times more. Each time, Rin made another frame to take the hit. Each time the frame shattered, the boy made another to take its place. Hideyori chuckled and kept firing until his gun clicked empty. Rin’s arms fell limp, his breathing shallow and ragged. That was the most frames he’d made in such a short time. He couldn’t muster the strength anymore.

“Is that it?” Hideyori looked at his gun, disappointed. He tossed it over his shoulder. “Was fun while it lasted. You had some promise, kid. Shame it had to go to waste.”

Meguru picked Rin up by the scruff of his shirt. Rin struggled, but not for long. He grabbed the man’s forearm, trying to loosen his grip, but he may as well have been trying to wrestle a car. Hideyori made a move to grab the boy’s schoolbag, before catching sight of something above.

“Flock.”

A new voice entered the fray, followed by the distorted sounds of a thousand pigeons. The area was filled with a flurry of shadows. Each shadow took the form of a bird, aimed at terminal velocity for the two men, a concussive barrage. Hideyori grunted in pain and stumbled back, buffeted by the assault. Meguru dropped Rin to cover his own face. Shrouded under the cover of the shadow flock, a hooded figure, the one responsible, dropped to the ground from the vantage of the building. The wind from the descent lifted the hood off the man’s face, revealing a head of long bright pink hair, and an expression contorted in silent hatred. Both the agents’ eyes widened in recognition.

“You!” Was all Hideyori had time to say, as the newcomer moved quicker than he had time to react.

Without a sound, he cast his arms wide. Two more shadows moved along the ground, gathering Rin and Kinuka’s unconscious bodies in their wake. He then put both hands forward, his fingers intertwined, casting another shadow under the afternoon sun.

“Spire Crane!” He commanded, and an amorphous shape emerged from the pool of shadow. The blob morphed into a large crane which stretched out and flapped his wings, before crowing up to the heavens. Grabbing hold of both teenagers with one hand made of shadow, their saviour grabbed a hold of the crane’s leg. With a flap of its wings, the majestic bird soared into the air, the gust of wind forcing the two assailants back further. Soon, the three had disappeared into the air, and were flying away out of sight.

“Well, wouldn’t you look at that,” Hideyori said, tipping the brim of his hat low over his face. You’d expect frustration, but all the reaction he gave was a breathless laugh. “Who’d have thought he’d come and pay us a visit so soon. Boss’ll be very pleased.”

“Are you gonna go after them?” Meguru watched the crane fly away, thinking how funny it’d be if they were taken out by a stray passenger jet.

“No need.” Hideyori rolled another orb between his fingers. “We got what we came for.” He showed the orb to Meguru, holding the image Rin using Framework to defend himself. “Though, if you want to pursue them,” he started walking away, “by all means, be my guest.”

Meguru pretended as though he were considering it. “If it’s not an order, don’t think I can be bothered,” he concluded with a shrug. “Can we go get something to eat now? I’m starving.”

“That’s not my problem.” Hideyori retrieved his phone, dialling a familiar number. “As far as I’m concerned, you can get lost and gorge yourself silly. You’ll be the one paying for it, though.”

“Cheapskate.”

Raising it to his ear, the electronic drone lasted only a couple seconds, before a booming tone came through on the other end.

“Hakana,” said Gus Ishimatsu, as though he’d been expecting the call. “What’s your progress? Did you manage to retrieve the blade?”

“Not yet. The reconnaissance, however, was a success. The Rejected deployed to apprehend them were both destroyed. There’s no trace of them.”

“Then, the boy’s ascension was a success.”

“Specialty and all. Seems what you predicted about the ritual was true in both cases. It wasn’t just Harigane, either. There’s a girl, too.”

“Bring them both to me. Use whatever means necessary.”

“I’ll do what I can. We were close today, but they only just managed to escape; they had help.”

“From who?”

Hideyori grinned. “Seems your prodigal son has made his return.”

There was silence. Hideyori checked to see whether the man had hung up.

“I want him brought to me,” said Gus. “Alive. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal. Shall we pursue?”

“You’ve done enough for today. Return for the time being.”

Hideyori raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Returning the phone to his pocket, he took out the orb showing Rin, specialty in action. The image in the crystal ball shifted, showing another, staring out of the broken window back at Senketsu High.

“Meguru?”

The man jerked awake, having been snoozing against the stack of crates nearby.

“We’re leaving Harigane be for the time being.”

“S’that right?” Meguru yawned and rolled his shoulder. “Little punk gets off easy for now, huh?”

“Boss’ orders.” Hideyori said, pocketing the orb. A flash of inspiration lit up his face moments later. “Not very nice of Harigane to leave his little friend out of the loop, is it?” He asked. “Why don’t we bring him up to speed?”

“Only if we can get ramen afterwards.”

Hideyori chewed this thought like he might chew said ramen. Eventually, his mind lost to his stomach. “Sounds like a plan.”

And the two then sauntered from the alleyway, leaving the crane, silhouetted against the setting winter sun, to flap away into the distant city horizon.