'Hmmmmmm?'
"Baaaaaaaaaaaaaawk?"
He could stop, sure... but did he really want to?
*Vrrrrrrrring… Vrrrrrrrrrring
The sound of a muffled phone call cut through Naoki's thoughts. He fumbled inside the chicken suit, grabbed his phone, and quickly answered.
"Bawk?"
"Sir, it's Alfred," an old voice came through the phone.
"We found multiple bombs in the dressing rooms and nowhere else thanks to the information you provided, we've also found three others responsible for the attack. All of them have been dealt with, but we still evacuated the civilians and conducted a thorough search for any additional explosives we might have missed."
"Bawk, bawk."
"Thank you, sir. But I need to inform you, all the explosives have a thirty-minute timer. I suggest releasing any that you might still have safely and immediately."
'Right... I have two in my suitcase.'
"AAAHHHHHHH!!"
Panicking, Naoki threw his suitcase across the building, completely forgetting they were inactivated.
The bomber watched the scene, dumbfounded.
"What are you doing?" he couldn't help but ask.
"THERE'S TWO BOMBS IN THERE SO YOU BETTER RUN!!"
He let out a long sigh. "I can't believe I was just running away from you," he muttered. Then, with a flick of his foot, he kicked the suitcase back toward Naoki.
"Don't worry. I haven't activated those yet."
Naoki exhaled in relief. "Fuuu, that was a close one."
He picked the suitcase back up and dusted it off.
"Okay, man, you're coming with me now. Terrorizing people? Super uncool." He then started walking toward him.
"And by the way, my... servant? acquaintance? Anyway, the dude already defused your other bombs and captured your friends, so how about we just skip the whole-"
"You kind of remind me of my son," the man cut in, his voice soft, almost gentle, a small genuine smile forming on his face.
Naoki stopped.
He stared at him for a few moments.
"That pity strategy won't work on me, man."
"No, it's not that," the man said quietly. "I just... miss him."
"What-"
Only a few meters away, Naoki finally noticed what he should have seen sooner. The man's defiant, almost fatal resolve, like he would rather die than submit to authorities, and the last bomb clenched tightly against his arm.
Naoki reacted on instinct, shoving the suitcase up between himself and the blast just in time.
The device detonated.
The world snapped into blinding light and deafening sound. The shockwave hit him like a wall, throwing him backward as dust, smoke, and debris swallowed everything in an instant.
For a moment, there was nothing but ringing.
By the time it began to fade, Naoki was coughing hard, struggling to push himself upright through the haze. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to steady his breathing.
Slowly, the world started to come back into view.
Naturally, the first thing he saw was his battered arm. It was already starting to turn a deep purple, streaked and smeared with blood. Some of it still seeped from small cuts, while the rest he couldn't even tell if it was his own anymore.
His back felt wrong too. Stiff, unresponsive in places, like it had locked up from the impact. Every attempt to straighten himself sent a dull ache through his spine, making it hard to look up properly for a moment. Probably from the fall.
But with some effort, eventually he managed to look up.
And he regretted it instantly.
He wanted to look away.
He really did.
His mind screamed at him to tear his gaze off, to shut it out, to pretend none of it was real.
But his body didn't obey.
He couldn't move.
Something about it held him there, rooted in place, forcing his eyes forward like they no longer belonged to him. He stood frozen, tears starting to well in his eyes, staring at the aftermath he wished he had never witnessed.
In front of him, the man was gone or at least what remained of him was unrecognizable.
His whole upper body ripped apart from the explosion and now missing. His lower half in a tangled bloody mess as his stomach and intestines slowly crawled out.
A sharp sting pierced his chest, a bitter mix of fear, guilt, and helplessness settling over him.
After all, he had just killed someone.
This was the first time he had killed another human being.
"... hrgnk."
Or... was it really his fault?
The man chose to die himself. And he was a terrorist who had already taken lives. In any normal sense, he deserved it.
"Haa... haa..."
So why did it feel like this?
"..."
Why did the guilt burn so deep in him, like it refused to be reasoned away?
Naoki shook his head, as if trying to physically throw the feeling out.
"I'm s-so, so sorry."
He wished it was all a dream.
But the ringing in his ears, the smoke in the air, and the weight in his chest made it all too clear.
This was reality.
***
"..."
An awkward silence settled between us.
Naoki was still laying down, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how tightly he clenched them, and he tried to cover it with one arm, but I could still see the tears streaming down his face.
He finally spoke, his voice stuttering.
"... I- I can't even handle it."
A short laugh slipped out, but it wasn't out of amusement.
"I'm a mercenary," he muttered. "And I'm breaking down over killing another person."
His jaw tightened.
"That's pathetic."
I didn't respond immediately, hesitating. My eyes watched over him for a moment, letting the words hang there without interrupting them.
Naoki continued anyway, like going on would make him feel better.
"If I can't even handle this much... what's the point?" His voice cracked slightly, frustration bleeding through the exhaustion. "I'm not fit for this. I shouldn't be here."
"I killed someone..."
That's when it clicked.
Naoki wasn't weak.
He just didn't understand.
"Naoki, you do know those things aren't human... right?"
"W-what?" he asked, clearly thrown off by something so simple.
I let out a quiet breath.
"It's pretty self-explanatory. That terrorist you were talking about... actually, not just him, all of them. They're scum who only think about themselves. They've killed people, ruined lives, and walked away without a second thought. Without guilt nor remorse."
My gaze was firm, keeping an eye of him.
"They're not people, Naoki. Remember that."
It was a common mistake for newcomers. Still, I didn't expect Naoki to fall into it. Not him.
"But the man said he had a chil-"
"That's a tactic," I cut him off. "Something to make you hesitate and get closer. Don't tell me you actually believed him."
I stared straight into his eyes.
They were soft.
Untrained.
Had I really not noticed such an obvious thing before?
Maybe.
"..."
Doesn't matter. Better to deal with it now.
"People don't walk into crowded places planning to tear everything apart. They don't wire explosives with steady hands, knowing exactly what's going to happen. They don't look at strangers and decide their lives mean nothing."
"B-but..."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I get why you'd think like that. A lot of people do, even if they're wrong. But we're mercenaries. We don't get that luxury of delusion."
I looked away from him and stood up.
"You're still young, Naoki. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
He doesn't need to be here.
I'll be fine on my own.
Yeah, it'll get lonely. Especially without him.
But that's part of the job.
The door shut.
***
The alarm rang.
My hand reached out blindly to the side, my hand missing the phone more than once before finally grabbing it. I swiped the screen to shut it off, only to fumble it straight into the desk lamp with a loud thud immediately afterwards.
I sat up and stared at it for a second, still half-awake.
Naoki had already left early this morning. I could hear him loudly packing some things while I was pretending to sleep.
He didn't try and wake me up.
He just left.
I mean… I did tell him he could go.
Still… strange.
Just strange.
Did he actually do it?
"..."
No, let's focus on something else for now.
Even if he quit, that doesn't mean we're strangers now. We could still talk. Online, at least. And if I had time, I could visit him. My parents too, while I'm at it.
Yeah.
That's fine.
With that out of the way,
I pushed myself up and headed toward the workspace to continue my research. After a proper night's sleep, I should be able to make real progress this time.
Nothing should get in the way now.
*Gurgle
"... A plate of omelets does sound delicious though."
With a change of heart, I headed for the kitchen.
***
Turns out, Naoki didn't leave the mercenary life behind to start over.
At least, that's what the poorly taped piece of paper on the fridge said.
It read:
____________
Dear Saitou,
I hope this letter finds you well.
And you're probably bawling your eyes out right now thinking I left, but don't worry. I only left the HQ, not the job. I'll be trying to finish the mission the King gave me, so I'll be gone for a while.
With lots of love (no homo), Naoki
P.S. Don't starve yourself with overcooked eggs. I know you love them but treat yourself to something nice for a change.
____________
I forgot to mention the various different pennies from various countries also poorly taped to the fridge. There was also one placed at the very top.
"I wonder how he reached up there."
***
I opened the door and saw Yuta sitting inside, looking something up on the laptop. He turned around when he heard me.
"Oh, hey! Just checking my mission data. My laptop at the hotel broke down."
"Okay?"
What the hell was his mission again?
...Yeah, maybe I should actually just ask that out loud.
"What-"
Just when I was about to, he cut me off.
"You look like you're in a good mood today."
I plan to ask again, however...
good mood?
Me?
Well, I am in a good, mood sort of, but I've been told my face is always too stiff to tell.
"Well, you also look to be in a bad mood as well." He followed up right after.
"What's that even supposed to mean?"
He stared at me, squinting his eyes in the process.
"Well, you know, it's like something bad happened recently and you're exhausted but at the same time I see a little hint of relief in your eyes"
"..."
"..."
Is he high?
"Are you high?"
"What? No." He shook his head while stretching his arms. "I'm just trying to be a good therapist. You know, I actually planned on becoming one... well until the whole mercenary thing."
He dragged a chair closer and patted the seat beside him.
I hesitated for a second, then sat down.
"So... what can I do for you today, good sir?" He mimed holding a cigar, taking a slow, exaggerated puff.
"Why're you doing this? Also, therapists don't smoke"
"C'mon," he said, dropping the act a little. "I can see it. Something's bothering you. Let me help."
At this point, I felt... entranced. Like his imaginary cigar was actually laced with something.
It's probably my imagination.
I wasn't even the one smoking.
Wait no, there wasn't even a cigar in the first place.
Maybe I am just tired.
"Have you seen Naoki?"
I tried shifting the topic.
Even though he's my friend, the situation just felt... oddly weird.
"Have you seen Naoki?"
I shifted the topic.
"Wasn't he out on a mission? You need him for something?"
"...How do you know that?"
"I saw the note on the fridge. I'm not blind."
Right.
That note was hard to miss.
"Anyway," he continued, "that's not what's bothering you."
"..."
Yuta was... strange.
I only found out recently that he was a mercenary as well. He had a mission at that abandoned bakery. Speaking of, that mission had to be connected to the chip in the car.
And then there was that weird talk about AI.
Mr. Watanabe was looking for him too.
The chip... Mr. Watanabe... The AI...
Does he actually know more about this?
Maybe...
If I tell him, he could help.
And so, I told him.
Or at least, most of it.
I explained the chips, leaving out the parts that were too important. The ones inside human bodies for example. The experiments, I did tell him.
I mentioned the night with the princess, though that ended up sounding more like filler than anything important.
"I see," Yuta said after a moment. "That's... a lot of words."
"Thank you," I replied dryly.
After another long silence, he finally continued.
"You know... I've actually got informants all over the city. They see everything, hear everything. No blind spots. Think of them like parrots... just with guns."
"What? Like they work for you? Also, parrots are the imitating birds not the stalking ones."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "They work on their own. But not to brag, I'm one of their regulars."
"Ingenious," I admitted.
"It is," he said, a little quieter now. "But don't go around telling people. Their whole thing is staying out of sight. Kind of an open secret... but still a secret."
I nodded.
"Honestly... it's worth the gamble. Real-world sources beat whatever half-baked info you find online. Especially in this case."
Telling him all of that might actually lead somewhere.
But I still needed to know.
"Do you know something about it?"
"Do you always walk around half-naked like that?"
"Dude, how many sleepovers did we have?"
"Just don't know you still sleep like... Dr. Shirtless."
...Wait.
No.
He wasn't getting out of this.
I looked back up at him, holding his gaze this time.
"...Fine," he said after a second. "I'll tell you on the way. Now put some clothes on. We're leaving."
"To where exactly?"
He didn't answer.
He just grabbed his car keys from the table and started heading toward the garage.
I followed, putting on a black hoodie as I went.
"Hey! I asked where!" I asked again.
He glanced back with a smirk.
"Isn't it obvious?"