23 / 03 / 2019 - Daito, Prefecture Osaka, Japan.
7 PM, Saturday, Akane's Room.
"Hmmmm…"
Humming lightly while moving the mouse, the bloody-ashen eyes are focused, reading between information and data, while his left hand is placed at his side.
Leaning on the backrest, the white light of the screen reflected on his expressionless face as he explored the forum called "Dark Network" from earlier.
The window on his left, a scenery consumed by darkness, and amidst this is a glimmer of light like a firefly, signifying that even in this night, the city is still bustling with activity, refusing to go dark.
The whole room is in total silence, with only Akane and the laptop as signs of activity; the lamp's light is bright but desolate and alone.
And after a while, finally, the screen is closed along with his eyes, "I've seen what I have to see."
By far, everything is as he expected, and now he is tired from this exploration; hour by hour, he spent on this, immediately as it is.
"Ughhh…" he groaned softly, pressing against the soft chair, his sore muscles aching after a long period of unresponsiveness.
Opening his eyes half-lidded to look at the time on the bottom left of the screen, his eyes twitched as he realised it was 7 PM; over 11 hours had passed since he entered the forum itself.
"Well, it seems I have gone overboard…"
Who doesn't anyway? Shrugging his shoulders lightly, after all, everything in those forums is interesting, not that it is surprising.
'That it can probably fuel her for a whole month or a year.'
That's his first thought: that little brat is very easily bored and always looking for something fun, so why not give her access later? Then again…
Rotating the chair to face the window on the right, his reflection is plastered on the window along with the tilted head and stacked hands above the stomach.
He is not lying or exaggerating; his eyelids drooping, to dig out everything he has to swim to a depth unknown, piecing together knowledge that he finds useful and worthy in itself.
"But it is only just the basics after all."
That's what he thought, head hung low, as he thinks further; too much time spent on comparative analysis, as no content can be acknowledged as official or formally approved in this forum.
Everything is hearsay, mouth by mouth, but it is not an ordinary mouth after all, it is an extraordinary mouth; emphasizing it, after a while, he is a bit disgusted by this, anyway.
But the corner of his mouth upturned; as much as you can't understand someone, even for him, as long as he puts in an effort, it can be done.
'Who do you think I am?'
Though he estimates that 80% of the forum is still locked from him, he can piece together at most some information by discerning various posts and the social section.
"Free meal is the best, and what's best is knowing the price upfront."
Eyes gleaming in red, gleeful, then erasing the smile from his face, it's time to meet his siblings to share his findings.
Rotating the chair back to face the desk, propping his body up by holding the armrest, the feeling of soreness intensified by it, eyes twitching in irritation,
'Damn, I'm just eleven, spare me already.' Pursing his lips lightly, as he finally got up, then proceeded for a stretch, as various cracks sounded along with it.
His hands hung limply at his sides, and precisely at the right timing, his stomach was rumbling too — hunger, weariness, and sore limbs, what a perfect combination.
Clicking his tongue, he walks towards the door at a slow pace and opens it.
Greeted by the empty but lit corridor, he steps out of the room and slowly closes the door; his ears twitched as the television's sound blasted through from the upper floor,
'What the hell are they even watching?'
Thought wanders to cool his mind after a long day of analysis, ranting and complaining slightly, pursing his dry lips, he continues his zombie walk to the edge of the railing.
To see what others are up to, gaze downwards, bloody-ashen eyes reflecting the scene of the living room and the kitchen.
It is not long before he spots the usual little imp that goes out of her way to make an annoyance of him, sitting on the sofa, watching a movie with delight.
Then, flicking to the right, is Ayato, who is sitting not far from her at the right wing of the sofa, doing his homework? It can't be serious, right?
He raises his eyebrows at this sight.
'Pretty lame, you should be smarter as I told you. After that, no homework will be given if they recognise your big brain.'
Snorting at this sight, it seems the value of his twin has dropped by another point over his narrow-minded willingness to bother with this work.
Then again, as he looks left and right, to the kitchen or living room, there's no sight of his aunt, which piques his curiosity, but at the same time, he feels that it is natural.
'She is pretty busy lately.'
Oftentimes, he doesn't know what his aunt does other than take care of his mother's company, or maybe she is having a meeting in her room.
Probably, just a guess, as he doesn't know much about her original job itself, which is entirely unknown to him.
Shaking his head slightly, he resumes his walk down the stairs, 'Regardless, she took my warning to heart.'
After all, she never stays in the company too late at night and is practically a homebody now; someone as precious as her, he will never let her get hurt at all.
The status of his aunt is the same as Irina's after all, for him, she is just like a bigger Irina and smaller mother — a strange analogy, but it perfectly matches his mind.
His pale hand grasping the railing, the blood gleaming red like a gem, oblivious to them all, his steps masked,
As that little imp has set the volume high as the sky; maybe they should be glad that no one comes to complain other than him, of course.
Tiptoed between his steps and regulated his breath, passing the kitchen and into the living room, he stopped, towering behind the imp who is immersed in the television.
Like a ball of shrimp, hands hugging her knees, while there was a bag of chips at her side, and then, the corner of his mouth twitched, his stock of orange juice was ready in a glass above the table.
'Should I do it?' To be or not to be? First sweets, then chips, and now this brat has ransacked his snack supplies. Should he suggest cutting her allowance to Auntie?
Face genuinely thoughtful, but before this, his bloody-ashen gaze looks at the television, at what she's so immersed in, to be so engrossed and loud.
'The hell?' Raising one eyebrow, he recognises this familiar show. Placing a hand in his pocket, he relaxes his body as he watches it.
His eyes reflect a scene of people with their hands confined to their seats, a total of five, each of whom is being presented a number.
'A game of survival, number guessing through sheer logic and calculation.'
Of course, his eyes flash with coldness. The winning condition is to survive, and right as he thought about it, a scream echoed through the screen.
As a bucket of acid falls, he just watches it calmly as their body melts along with heart-wrenching screams over their wrong answer.
Then again, "How could you watch this?" deciding it's not worth scaring her, pointing out that this film is rated with parental guidance for a reason.
Hearing a voice behind her, Irina startled as she flicked her head to look behind with fright, her heart beating fast as she thought she was getting caught by her aunt.
But then, as she looks up and takes in the black monotone shirt and casual white pants, this is not female at all! Tilting her head, it is a boring and plain face — her brother.
She let out a sigh of relief as her tense shoulders slumped,
"Huuuhhh… you scared me." He didn't have the intention to do so, though; thinking for a moment, he raised his chin, gesturing at the television with clear meaning.
Then, he took his hands out of his pockets while smiling softly, opening his palm, while she gazed in confusion at what he meant. Is he asking for chips?
"Give me the remote, it is inappropriate for a ten-year-old like you to watch gore movies like this."
It's one of the reasons, but the other concern is that he is afraid her simple mind is unable to fathom such a complex narrative on its own. At this line, his smile became more genuine.
'It's good if you watch Dollhouse, rather than this.'
But of course, his goodwill is once again mistaken as a threat by this brat; he watches as her face turns into a frown, her lips flat as she is angry, her body trembling.
"Why do you care, though?" What's with this hypocrisy? What's with those eyes? Are you being pitiful to me, for what? What is there to pity? Anger seems to flare up.
Sensing the disturbance in the Rhythm itself, she seems to understand a humiliation beneath those gazes, 'This stinky piece of block must be mocking me again.'
Rather than giving up, she just stares at him like this, ignoring his outstretched hands, and of course, who would back down from this?
As Akane is also looking down at her. Again, the staring contest begins, the usual antics from long ago repeated once more.
"Haahhhh…" As an observer, Ayato sighed at the sideline, his face tired at this sight, placing down the pen above the table.
'Once more, I'm the only sane one here.' Why do those two always bother to fight? Aren't they tired of it? But then again, he has been used to it since he was a kid.
Leaning on the edge of the sofa, he shifts his feet to a more comfortable position, as he is basically sitting on the carpet beneath the table right now.
Yet, isn't it good to enjoy life slowly and to each their own? Pondering over this for a bit, then he shook his head.
Well, it's not, it seems; his mouth twitched as his gaze snapped back to reality, he is a meddler himself, too.
He let out a sigh once more. This kind of thing wouldn't be resolved any time soon, and by his own experience, it will only get worse from here, so…
"Stop it, you two,"
As he said this, the two pairs of eyes instantly flicked to him, one of which is hazy, bloody-ashen eyes, lifeless as usual, and the others sky-blue eyes, clear and lively.
If only that liveliness could be shifted to more positive things, and that bleakness to be less hateful, he rolled his eyes internally,
"Akane, are you done with your idea of surfing the web alone?" he decided to shift the topic rather than pick a side.
He asks casually, while he glances at his homework, which is a hassle on its own, but it's already halfway done, though.
Then again, it's been 30 minutes since he was on this; a corner of his eye twitched at this flash of thought.
"Trying to shift the topic, huh? I see." Not wanting to lose, he tries to nitpick the choice — classic things. Both Irina, who calmed down, and Ayato rolled their eyes.
"But it's not wrong, so I'll pardon you. Irina, as you may learn an important lesson by watching that, good luck." Which is clearly wishful thinking for her — and mocking her.
After saying this sentence with a flat face, he erased his smile, walked a stride, and sat at the left wing of the U-shaped sofa, under Irina's hateful gaze.
The corner of his mouth upturned for a beat as he sat down and leaned on the backrest, feeling the comfort, as his eyes drooped slightly,
'If there's nothing to bother me, I would probably be asleep now.'
Giving his honest thought, but there are no ifs after all. Hands slumped at his sides, he opened his mouth, then, after settling down for a while,
"Where do I have to start?"
Knowing that their attention is on him, he asks them what they want to know, as the information in his mind isn't much sorted out in this short time; they are free to ask what they want.
"How the hell should I know what to ask without prior knowledge?"
In a second, it appears, and she already has a rebuttal for it, asking with her hands crossed as her feet are planted on the ground.
Ayato, though, is silent as he is still working on his homework and writing something down; he nods quietly, but didn't stop — they don't know anything, so how could they ask?
In particular, the limit of what Akane understands is also relevant, which is why they need to know the boundaries of his knowledge too,
It is to avoid wasting time guessing with each other; Ayato's eyes are reading while jotting down simple subtraction and addition.
'Hmmm, why do I have to do this anyway?'
What's the point of doing these kinds of basic things? His eyes are thoughtful; rather than this, he could even recite pi backwards.
Well, anyway, Akane's eyes fully opened with clarity, also thoughtful.
Instead of retorting as usual, he finds them to be correct, so if they are correct, what he needs to assess is his own mind:
'Am I too tired?'
That must be the reason; he affirms it firmly with a slow nod, though he took breaks in between — 11 hours is still 11 hours after all.
"Well, you're right, I was wrong, so instead, I'll start with the most basic things, that is, the true situation of Osaka right now."
Then, pushing his body slightly, he left his eyes half-lidded once again, leaving it for each of them to listen; his aunt is missing from the room, so they can talk freely here.
Knowing it, though each is still focused on their own task at hand, they will spare some part of their mind to listen attentively.
Irina snorts, then averts her eyes back to the movie, but half of her attention is waiting for the word from her brother.
And Ayato, though still writing his homework, simple as it is, can fully spare his ears to listen.
Then, "First of all, the situation now is very bad, and I fully mean this."
Starting with the most basic notice, he frames the situation so they can gauge the entire scale by themselves.
Irina's face slowly softened, as if piqued by this, her feet crossed, her hands pressing on her sole, unconcealed curiosity.
Crossing his hands and pressing his head hard on the backrest to relieve his headache, "Everything starts from a person called Bishop Marten, from the Church of Chaos."
Ayato's pen stopped. Just from the name itself, he already knows what kind of person they are — call it a bias or not — his eyes are cold. A troublemaker it is.
'Yes, a trouble,' he thought, then resumed his activity as normal.
"This person, called Bishop Marten, brought forth his fellow disciples, or… Priests."
His expression turned strange for a moment, as if finding something funny within these kinds of explanations, but unable to stop.
And for Irina, curiosity gradually turned into a hunger; her face turned expressionless and blank, a routine precursor as she is experiencing something intense.
That face is now facing Akane, who is telling the story. Beneath the crystal clear eyes, hunger seems to appear as a shadow of vertical slits in them,
'Ahahahahahha, the world is still so vast after all! Much amusement and joy later!'
Practically screaming in her mind right now, excited to fully see the world, then turning her face back to the television, returning to her usual self once again.
"In short, they came to Osaka and staged the entire thing that is happening now, including the disappearances by their own hands."
Letting out a breath, he let them digest this information on their own before moving on,
"Do you have anything to ask?" Lifting his eyelids to a narrowed slit, reflecting the two silent figures; Ayato is the same as always, probably didn't care.
But…
His eyes move to Irina, who is now silent, docile like a kitten, facing him with a soft smile, "For now, no question, I will ask at the end though." Eyes full of innocence.
Like hell could she deceive him. This brat is going astray by each passing day, though he doesn't mind. Is her dragon self finally coming out?
But he does not mind; his sister is his sister, as crazy as she is, at the end of the day, that mask of hers cannot fool him after all, shaking his head slightly.
Ignoring her for the time being, he continued with his narrative, his face still plain as usual,
"Then we will move to the second cause of chaos: the various Factions that are entrenched here."
After piecing together information from various posts, chats, gossip, and information shared in the formal section, he has come to an understanding of the basic situation in Osaka.
Before this, he raises his hands, three fingers, leaving the others slumped above his chest,
"There are mainly three: Heaven and Hell Gate, Inquisition, and the Church of Chaos — the first one that I know of."
Closing one finger, he closes one eye, gazing at his fingers,
"Heaven and Hell Gate is the organisation you encountered in the email, which is actually an official Japanese Extraordinary organisation."
Ayato nods at his seat, 'It is to be matched and consistent with the current detail,' approving it as he didn't find any discrepancies for now, he noted it inside.
"It can be inferred that they consist of two parts — Heaven Gate and Hell Gate — of which Takahashi Aki belongs to the former."
Until this, he knows more, but sharing it now is more useless, so he keeps it and continues with the others, licking his dry lips,
"Inquisition, this is a separatist of the Vatican, called an extremist and separatist at that. Based on the gathered information, they are very fond of killing 'outliers' that threaten humanity itself."
Brimming with excitement, she leans forward, her two hands pressed on the edge of the sofa, 'This is probably just the part that he knows, then how many others that exist?'
Pondering it for a bit, it is probably endless fun all day. It is as simple as that, well, she is a kid, what she knows, pouting for a bit, she pulls back her body.
There is no interruption as he gets to the last. Irina is still looking at him with a smile and a smug look, while Ayato has already sat on the sofa, eating the leftover chips.
Ignoring this, he closed his last finger and clenched his hand, "Church of Chaos, an organisation that I think is a bit different from the cliché in books or fiction."
Then, letting his hand fall onto the sofa as he gazes at the ceiling, remembering the exact propaganda that is not concealed at all,
"Their ideology is to advance humanity at all costs to prepare for the larger threat that is about to come from foreign influences."
And he knew precisely what this was, as it also comes in a pair like a sandal, or a gift; his expression turned somber with this revelation,
The other's expression too turned serious at this particular part. Irina's face is thoughtful, unaware of what she thinks, while Ayato's hands are on his chin.
"The foreign influences, including gods, other races, and other worlds."
His last sentence drifted like the wind, but instantly changed the atmosphere greatly; now, they can't be exactly called calm anymore.