Vol 9 Chapter 4.1 (1/2)
CHAPTER 4
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
To the last syllable of recorded time,
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage . . .
Not only the stairs. The floor, the entrance, and the consultation room were probably smeared with blood and littered with broken objects in a horrific scene. A body or two probably lay on the floor.
What about the doctor? What had become of the man who saved Nezumi's life?
”Don't move.” Nezumi restrained his arm. ”Don't move yet.”
s.h.i.+on, Inukas.h.i.+, and Rikiga all held their breaths and tensed as if they were bound by his words. Even the dogs lay low to the floor, unmoving like boulders, save to growl softly at the footsteps.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes....
”Freedom for No. 6! Freedom for all of us!” A hoa.r.s.e, high-pitched scream resounded, its gender indiscernible. Right afterwards, angry voices and the sound of fierce beatings were heard through the window.
It's the same. s.h.i.+on made a fist. His palm was damp with perspiration.
It was the same―no different from the Hunt in the West Block. The brutality he had seen under the thick snow clouds was taking place again right here.
The sweat stung the countless cuts on his palm and made it throb slightly. Sweat streamed down his cheek, and entered his mouth.
In No. 6, he used to feel trapped and suffocated, like being forced to wear clothes that didn't quite fit. But until Nezumi had saved him and they had begun to live in the West Block, he had never had much difficulty dealing with these vague doubts and feelings of suffocation. Not until he was given a chance to look at No. 6 from the outside. In fact, he had taken comfort in No. 6's cleanliness and abundant lifestyle. It was true. He had been devouring this comfort and taking it for granted. Back then, the Security Bureau's existence hardly crossed his mind. It never had to; the days still went by. On the surface, time pa.s.sed peacefully without incidence.
When had it all begun?
s.h.i.+on was wheeling his bike across the park after his s.h.i.+ft. He was allowed to ride his bicycle in the park, as long as he didn't go over the speed limit. But the spring sunset was so beautiful that s.h.i.+on had felt like taking a stroll to take it all in.
The sky was divided into dark pink, red, and carmine. The streaming clouds caught the sun, their edges glittering golden. The sweet fragrance of the flowers blended with the refres.h.i.+ng scent of new leaves, enveloping the pa.s.sersby.
”It was wonderful, wasn't it?”
”All's right with the world, as they say. What do you say to topping it all off with a mouthwatering meal and some excellent wine?”
”Oh, how splendid. That sounds great.”
He could hear the lighthearted conversation of a young man and woman―were they lovers, husband and wife, or good friends?
They're right. It's a perfect evening to enjoy wine over a nice meal in the company of someone close, s.h.i.+on had thought, feeling a comfortable sort of weariness and hunger himself.
All's right with the world.
Neither s.h.i.+on nor that man or woman had any clue about what lurked in the depths of that day. Most people didn't. It wasn't because of the dreamy spring evening. Through hot summer days, sleety mornings, in autumn sunsets, they had never noticed.
The majority of the citizens were neither concerned nor interested about the Security Bureau. They probably had no idea that it would bare its fangs so ferociously at the slightest voice of protest from the citizens. They thought of the Security Bureau as an organization that maintained and protected their safety―an organization for the people―were they not? And they believed in this clause―
No. 6 exists for its citizens. It exists to ensure a plentiful and comfortable life for its citizens. No one shall be permitted to threaten the safety, activities, and lives of the citizens in any way whatsoever.
They believed the city would also abide by this clause of its own City Charter. The people relied upon the city, left everything in its hands, and unwittingly allowed themselves to be pulled along by its flow.
And this was the result.
The sweat stung in his wounds. Nezumi's hand was still restraining s.h.i.+on's arm.
If this was the result, then Nezumi―where did we go wrong? Do you know the answer?
No―I'm the one that needs to know the answer, not you. I was born as a No. 6 citizen, reaped all of its benefits, and lived without any concern for the outside or inside. I'm the one who has to reach out and grasp the answer, in exchange for always choosing the comfort of lending myself to the least resistant path, rather than struggling against the current.
I know. Meeting you has taught me, and so have the words we exchanged and the days we spent together. I need an answer that I've grasped with my own hands, rather than one that's been prepared for me.
Mine, and not someone else's.
Or else I'll end up with the same result again.
”They weren't after us, then.” s.h.i.+on sensed Inukas.h.i.+ twitching his nose in the dark. ”I was totally under the impression that... the doctor tipped the Bureau off. Looks like that wasn't it.”
”No, it definitely wasn't.”
Traitors. That was what the Bureau officials had said. The target of their sting had not been s.h.i.+on, but the others―the doctor, and Yoming.
Inukas.h.i.+ twitched his nose again. ”Nezumi... aren't we safe now?”
”Wait. It's still too early.”
”Tsk, paranoid as always.”
One minute, two minutes, three minutes....
”Hey, Nezumi.”
”Don't rush. But―alright, it should be fine now. Don't turn on the lights. Leave them off, and move quietly.”
Nezumi pushed the door slightly ajar, and whistled softly. Hamlet poked his head out from s.h.i.+on's pocket, alighted on the floor, and dashed through the open crack.
Momentarily, a lighthearted squeak greeted them.
Cheep cheep, chit-chit-chit.
Cheep cheep, chit-chit-chit.
”Alright, let's go downstairs. Avoid the elevator, just in case.” Nezumi swiftly wrapped the superfibre cloth around himself, and slipped into the hallway.
”What the h.e.l.l was that?” s.h.i.+on saw Rikiga's mouth gaping open by the light that spilled in from the hallway. ”Wasn't he unconscious just now? Or was that an act, too? Playing the part of a prince on his deathbed?”
Inukas.h.i.+ shrugged.
”He ain't no prince. He's an animal. Like a savage beast. No way he can sleep in the face of oncoming danger. He sensed the Security Bureau guys before my nose could sniff them out, d.a.m.nit. p.i.s.ses me off.”
”I see. Now I have a good idea of how Eve could have survived this far. With instincts as sharp as those, and that cautiousness to boot...”
”Falling in love all over again, old man?”
”I just confirmed my notion that he doesn't have an ounce of good in him.”
The humans, dogs, and mice crept down the stairs cautiously, step by step. There was a pool of blood in the stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs was the owner of that blood, a man in his forties or fifties lying on his back.
The lower floor was just as grisly as s.h.i.+on imagined. Blood had sprayed the walls and the floor. There was broken gla.s.s and furniture strewn about, all soiled with dirt and blood. At the end of the hall, a blue-grey door was half-open. The room was dark and the air inside cold―a bas.e.m.e.nt room, perhaps.
A man lay slumped against the door, and the nurse at his feet. A figure clad in a lab coat lay a few metres away. The three of them were perfectly still.
His words felt painfully empty as they escaped his lips.
The doctor was clearly almost dead. There was no hope for him.
”Doctor, doctor! Open your eyes, please,” s.h.i.+on continued to implore with empty words. That was all he could do.
The door to the consulting room opened, and Aria appeared, evidently from the elevator.
”Vital signs: none. Vital signs: none. Vital signs―minimal. Minimal.”
The doctor's eyelids slowly lifted.
”Vital signs: minimal. Commencing treatment.”
Several tubes extended from Aria's torso, and connected to the doctor's body.
”Aria... don't. It's no use...”
”No use. No use... cannot comprehend. Continuing treatment.”
”Doctor, what... why did this happen?”
”...He... broadcasting... from the bas.e.m.e.nt of this clinic... calling... on his comrades to defeat No. 6 together...”
”Vital signs: minimal. Probability of recovery: one percent. One percent.”
”I wanted revenge... on No. 6... revenge...”
”Doctor,” s.h.i.+on pleaded.
”I wanted to... destroy this world... and build it... anew.”
Suddenly the doctor dug his fingers into s.h.i.+on's arm.
”s.h.i.+on,” the man called his name in a clear, strong voice. ”I leave this in your hands.”
His eyes were open wide, fixed intently on s.h.i.+on.
”I leave it... in your hands. Don't ever make... No. 6... this kind of city... again. Please. I'm leaving it to you.”
The doctor's fingers slipped out of his own. The light went out of his eyes as they glazed over. His whole body convulsed.
Then, it was over.
”Vital signs: minimal. Minimal. Unable to register. Unable to register. Aborting treatment.”
”Doctor...”
s.h.i.+on laid the man down, and put a hand over his eyelids. With his eyes closed, the doctor looked peaceful and relaxed.
”Leave it to you, huh.” Inukas.h.i.+ let out a long sigh. ”You guys are the ones who built No. 6 in the first place,” he said to the doctor's body. ”But once something goes wrong and it spins out of control, you just shove it off onto someone else? Not exactly a friendly gift to leave to someone, is it? A little selfish, don't you think, doctor? I guess it's none of my business, though.”
”Inukas.h.i.+, what good is it to mouth off at a dead man? He's not going to hear any of it. Poor guy.” Rikiga clasped his hands in front of his chest and bowed his head.
”The h.e.l.l are you doing?” Inukas.h.i.+ asked.
”I'm praying to G.o.d, can't you tell? O G.o.d, please forgive this sinful man. May you bless his soul and let him rest in peace by your side.”
”Hah, you don't even believe in G.o.d. What an act. Oh, wait―you must be praying to G.o.d Moneybags Almighty, right, old man?”
”Rotten kid,” spat Rikiga. ”You never get tired of spewing insults, do you? Once this settles down, you're in for it. You remember that.” Rikiga unclasped his hands and rolled his shoulder joints.
”So, what now?” he said. ”We've accomplished our big goal of destroying the Correctional Facility. As for me, I'm in the mood for heading back to the West Block and crawling into bed. I feel like curling up and dreaming about digging up gold from underneath the Correctional Facility. I'd wake up to the best morning ever. It puts me in a good mood already.”
”Old man, you can be sarcastic all you want, but Nezumi's not gonna respond. I'd get a better response out of complaining to that corpse over there.” Inukas.h.i.+ chuckled spiritedly, his shoulders shaking with his laughter.
”But truth be told, I'm all for crawling into bed myself. And, well, there are a lot of things that I want to mull over. It doesn't help that it's kinda creepy being inside No. 6. It gives me a bad vibe, makes my skin crawl. s.h.i.+on, don't you wanna go home, too? It's not too far from here, is it? Your mum must be waiting for you.”
”Yeah...” s.h.i.+on's house was within walking distance from here.
”Don't you wanna see your mum again?”
”Yeah, I do.”
”Karan, huh. I'd like to see her too,” Rikiga murmured wistfully.
Mom, there's no telling how much I've probably made you worry. I want you to see that I'm doing well. I want you to see that I'm safe. I want to say sorry. I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart. Mom, I'm sorry.
s.h.i.+on was overwhelmed with nostalgia and love for his mother. He remembered the scent of freshly-baked bread. Yearning. Love. I wish I could see you.
But the only place he wanted to return to was that bas.e.m.e.nt room littered with books. He wanted to go back to that room and its countless volumes, the bed, the stove, and the tattered chair.
I want to go home.
s.h.i.+on burned with longing.