I haven't been writing my other story because of this one, its been nagging me in the back of my head forever. I'll update both every other week hopefully from now on. I put alot of thought into this story, and if you don't understand what's going on, I promise you will next chapter, just put up with my retardedness bear with me. Thanks and enjoy!
The locker door slammed with considerable force, the resulting sound reverberating across the small room. The source of the noise was a man in his early twenties with thick black hair. He loosed an audible groan as the locker door swung back to meet him. Giving it one final slam, he gathered his things, shoved on a dark blue fleece and walked out of the locker room. Walking outside, he was surrounded by the warm ambiance of a department store. The happy faces of shoppers with a certain product on their mind, the ridiculously annoying music playing from overhead speakers, the mischievous children ignoring the distress of their worried parents, the witty banter of couples. He frowned to himself. The holidays were not far away, it only being the beginning of November, yet the population was enjoying their time as if all the holidays were the day after next. He started for the exit, determined to leave as quickly as possible.
"Suchiiru-san"
The man turned around at the mention of his family name, almost upset that his quest to the store exit had been interrupted. He was greeted by a small man with thick glasses, who held an envelope out to him.
"Suchiiru-san, you're always in a hurry to leave. You almost forgot your paycheck."
The young man smiled unenthusiastically. He had almost forgotten that he worked at this happy, overly-cheerful, elevator music hell.
Waving goodbye, he walked out the exit and slammed the door behind him.
Opening the beige envelope, he looked over the paycheck. A sum of 65,320 yen paid to a Samui Suchiiru. Not quite enough money for a 22-year old taking graduate classes and living on his own. But he had other ways of making money.
He sighed, reaching into his backpack and pulling a navy blue scarf from its depths. Wrapping it around his neck, he stuffed his hands in his fleece's pockets, prepping himself for the long walk home.
Samui walked at an dilatory pace, intent on taking his time. The city he lived in, Saitama ,was after all one of the more beautiful places in Saitama Prefecture, Japan. Looking past the commonplace buzz of modern suburbia, there was a beauty that dazzled the eye and escaped words. Samui however, continued his dreary march, ignoring everyone and everything he passed. A tiredness that seemed to emanate from the depth of his being kept the polite greeting of strangers or the occasional "excuse me" as people brushed past from reaching his ears. He instead, chose to stare directly ahead of him the entire journey, completely ignoring his peripheral vision.
Stepping into his apartment building, he gave a terse wave to the landlady, who smiled and waved back before returning to sweeping the steps.
Sifting through his mail, he opened his apartment door and walked in. Sitting at a small oak table, he decided it wasn't worth the effort , tossing the mail onto the tabletop. Getting up again, he threw his scarf and bag to the floor. Samui sighed deeply, collapsing face down on his bed.
"The day's finally over..." he muttered into the sheets.
He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. Less than a minute after he had fallen asleep however, he was awoken to the sound of something ringing. He groaned, rolling over. The ringing object continued with its obnoxious sound. It did not stop. Samui was beginning to think he should destroy it. But if someone was calling him during these ungodly hours of the night, there had to be a good reason. Picking the cell phone off the floor, he flipped it open.
"Hello?" he rasped. No answer.
He cleared his throat and tried again.
"Hello?"
"Oh, Samui! I could have sworn it was someone else at first." a female voice rang through the receiver.
"Yes, its me Eileen...what's up?" he yawned loudly.
"A new job."
He sat up quickly, cringing as the blood rushed to his head.
"When? Now?"
"Yes...the Agency wants you in here pronto."
"Already there."
He closed the phone and took a deep breath. Exhaling, Samui launched himself off his bed with renewed vigor.
"It's about damn time!" he yelled to no one in particular, pumping his fists into the air in a wide stretch.
Grabbing his scarf, he ran out, stopping to turn back once her realized he had left his door open. He sped past the landlady who frowned at him, down the steps and out onto the street. He continued to run as fast as his legs would carry him, adrenaline fueling his every step, dissipating his prior weariness. This would mean a chance to get away from everything! This would be the only fun he'd had in a long time! This would be...
Samui stopped running immediately, almost tripping over his own feet. This would be... He groaned, flipping open his phone. He had to call 'her'...He dialed a number and listened to it ring. This would be...terrible.
The smell of over-brewed coffee and the gentle clatter of eating utensils on plates filled the small diner. An overall feeling of apathy filled this diner on the edge of town. People talking softly to each other, men watching a soccer game with little zeal, and still others, ordering meals as waiters and waitresses hurried from one table to the next. On this particular night however, there was a shortage of staff which forced only select few to work their hardest to quell the sea of impatient customers.
One of the waitresses was having a exceptionally hard time. Most of the customers thought they should call on her when something went wrong with their order. In fact, at this time, one particularly hungry customer had had his order taken over fifteen minutes before. He waited with growing impatience as waiters and waitresses rushed past him, seemingly carrying food to every other customer, including the ones that ordered after him. But to say that was actually happening would be an exaggeration as hunger addles even the strongest of minds.
How unfair...he thought to himself and proceeded to look around for the nearest service person to pester.
Turning around his seat, he spotted a waitress with short blonde hair not too far away, clumsily trying to balance four plates. She was failing miserably.
"Hey!" he shouted.
The waitress scanned the room, eyes darting left and right before seeing the man, who was waving his hand wildly at her. A confused look passed over her face and she started looking around again.
"Yes, you!" the man shouted even louder, drawing attention for the surrounding customers.
A look of sour contempt crossed her face as she made her way over to him. Another waitresses gave her a smile and a pat on the shoulder when she passed.
"Ouch. Looks like you've got a shouter. Good luck."
The blonde woman rolled her eyes as she approached the man, deliberately taking her time.
"Umm...how may I help you,sir? She said forcing a smile.
"Yeah..." His eyes found their way to the plastic name tag pinned to her apron. "Kiyoi, is it? Listen. I've been waiting for an incredibly long time and I still haven't gotten my fo-"
Before he had finished speaking, she placed a plate on the table and spun around on her heel, walking away.
"Ah. Thank yo-Hey, wait..."
Damn...she thought, What now?
"Yes?" she asked through clenched teeth, her crystal blue eyes the epitome of ice.
"My steak's rare! I specifically asked for well-done! Why didn't I get well-done? The service in this place is terrible!"
His voice had escalated to levels universally unacceptable indoors and many customers were giving him disapproving looks and muttering to themselves. The blonde waitress opened her mouth to say something incredibly profane but was stopped when another waitress called her over.
"Kiyoi...I think you should go home for the night. I'll finish up here." she said, smiling a bit too widely.
"You sure? I mean..."
"No, you go, I've got it under control."
"Thanks, Yumi."
"Don't thank me just yet. You'll owe me for this later."
"Gee...thanks."
With this quick exchange of words, Kiyoi went to the changing rooms while Yumi confronted the angry customer.
Reaching into her pockets, she pulled out her phone.
"One missed call, one voicemail?"
Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and Yumi's voice, screaming something about "ungratefulness". There was a deep-throated howl of pain and then silence. Kiyoi looked up. She rushed to the door. Had something happened? The moment her hand touched the doorknob, an explosion of cheering came from the other side. Kiyoi rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. She was wrong to have been so worried, but still, what was wrong with that girl? Returning her attention to the phone, she listened to the voicemail.
"Crap! Samui called?! That was almost half an hour ago!"
Samui paced anxiously around the small office. Just a bit longer...
"Samui...please relax...you know the rules..." came a soft voice from the other side of the room. Patience, caring was what the voice suggested.
"Oh, come on, Eileen. There's only a few minutes left. What if you just gave me the briefing now?" he pleaded, turning his attention to a white-haired girl sitting at a desk across the room.
The girl sitting at the desk fidgeted uneasily. "You know I can't do that..."
"Please?"
"Samui..."
Without warning, the door flew open, revealing an exhausted, disheveled Kiyoi.
"Stop...bothering...the girl...you idiot." she panted, doubling over to catch her breath.
"Kiyoi, you're here." Eileen said, standing up. Walking closer, Samui realized how long it had been since he'd seen her. A long time since he'd been back here. A month or two maybe.
Eileen was considerably shorter than him, small in frame and in presence, he barely noticed her if she entered a room unannounced. Her hair was short, cut higher in the back than in the front, giving the impression that she was older than she actually was. As for her hair itself, it was stunningly white, though he didn't think she would bleach it. Her skin was a fair tone, a smooth cream color throughout. The only exception being her face, which was riddled with freckles, the only indicator of her actual age. She wore a long sleeve, azure hooded sweatshirt under which a white tank top was barely visible. This was accompanied by a black skirt that reached down to just above her knees, worn over a pair of navy blue sweatpants.
Samui turned his attention from Eileen to Kiyoi, who had thrown herself onto the nearest chair, still breathing raggedly. Her honey blonde hair was less than shoulder length, and appeared to be matted to her head from a combination of sweat and an unfortunate change of weather. From his point of view she looked like a wet cat, and twice as miserable. She was paler than Eileen, and a good deal taller, almost as tall as Samui. She stood up, taking off her forest green fleece and wringing it out, soaking the floor. Much to her relief, the white t-shirt she had worn underneath hadn't met the same fate. Her black jeans fit snuggly, stopping just before her ankles.
"Damn it! Why'd you have to come?!" Eileen cringed at how loud Samui was.
"What do you mean?! I'm your partner aren't I?!" Kiyoi yelled back. Eileen flinched again.
"Ha! Don't make me laugh!"
"What was that?!" She threw her damp fleece at him.
"Only 4 minutes left! You couldn't have been 4 minutes later?" He said, moving out of the way.
"Umm...guys..." Eileen said weakly.
"Shut up, you! I just got your message! I was at work!"
"Guys..." Eileen tried interjecting again.
"What?!" They asked at the same time, causing Eileen to take a step back.
Suddenly, a hand appeared on both of their shoulders.
"Samui. Kiyoi. Is there a problem here?"
It was their turn to cringe, as a large hand gripped their shoulders.
They both turned around to see a large man standing behind them.
"Eileen. Was there a problem with these two?" his booming voice reverberated, across the small room.
"No, sir, General Russell." she said, as loudly as she could, standing as straight as possible.
The man her attention was directed at stood tall, almost unnaturally tall as it seemed. He wore a black jacket and dress pants, seemingly a standard for men of his rank. A single silver star graced his collar, proof of his rank of Brigadier General. His wavy, dark brown hair was unkempt, drawing attention away from his hazel eyes which surveyed everything with a cold, calculating glance.
"Regardless, I'll be borrowing these two. They will report to you after I talk with them." the general spoke, patting them hard on the back to emphasize his point.
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
And with that, he walked out, tightening his grip on the both of them.
Samui reluctantly let himself be led forcefully down the narrow hallway. He knew that at the end of the hallway was the office he was so afraid of visiting. He also knew that there was no way he could get out of this. With these two facts weighing heavily on his conscious, the most he could do was conform his face with a look of sour disdain, directed at his superior who was almost dragging him by his shoulder. Kiyoi, simply angry that she had to be taken to an office like some elementary schooler, walked with a bit more dignity in her stride. She looked over at Samui who was visibly upset. It was his fault she was in this mess. The bastard...
The captain let go of them so he could open the door to his office. Samui looked up at the sign on the door. It read H.E.L.A., and underneath there was a removable name plate that said "Brigadier General Graham Russell".
"Psst!" Kiyoi tried to get Samui's attention. He looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Let's make a run for it!"
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"Let's go!" she whispered. Kiyoi turned around to leave.
And was promptly stopped by Russell's hand.
"Going somewhere?" he asked.
"N-No, sir." she smiled over-enthusiastically.
He led her into the office, leaving Samui to look at the door.
H.E.L.A... The Hureneos Empirical Limited-Possession Agency.
The agency that he worked for. A binding contract he had made at his own discretion.
"Suchiiru-san, you coming? Or are you going to try and escape like Tsukiakari-san over here?"
"No, sir." he said before entering the office himself.
The office itself was extremely large, more of a rectangle than a square, with a low ceiling and inadequate lighting. There were few pictures on the plain, white washed walls. Some showed a younger Russell standing with a group of friends, others showed him holding a large assortment of heavy weaponry. And one which stood aloof from the others showed him as he appeared now, only he was alone in the picture.
"I can't keep bringing you guys in here when you argue like that." Russell's said to them, folding his hands on his desk. "I could hear you from here."
Kiyoi and Samui exchanged quick glares before facing the opposite direction.
Russell sighed. "Now, what happened this time?"
Samui stood up, almost knocking his chair over. "I would like to propose we shorten the time we have to wait for our partners to show up by 10 minutes."
Kiyoi's jaw dropped. She opened her mouth to say something, but Russell stopped her with a wave of his hand.
"Samui. You know we can't do that. You have to wait 45 minutes for your partner to show up."
Samui scowled, sitting down hard.
"Kiyoi? What about you? Do you have any complaints?"
"No, sir." she smiled sweetly.
Samui scowled even more, crossing his arms.
Russell rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "Go back to Eileen, she has you're briefing."
Samui stormed out of the room, with Kiyoi following shortly after.
Russell sighed a second time before continuing with the mountain of paperwork that rested on his small desk.
In the hallway, Samui walked as fast as he could, determined to get away from the accursed girl who walked behind him. She ran up beside him, grinning widely.
"Crybaby." she laughed.
"Kiss ass." he shot back.
Eileen jumped as the door to the room slammed open.
"Just give us the briefing, Eileen." Samui said, taking the nearest seat. Kiyoi, sat next to him, still grinning.
Eileen looked at their disposition nervously before taking a folder off the desk in the corner of the room.
"As you know. We are required by this agency to hunt down and capture 'demons'." she began. "Which possess humans and significantly alter their personality and behavior. This mission is to retrieve a person we believe to be possessed. You will travel to Motobu, Okinawa to capture the target. You are not to kill him, but to bring him here for experimentation. Transportation will be provided to pick you up tomorrow morning and you will arrive there by nightfall. Further information will be given along the way. Okay?"
"Yes."
Now that that's over...What do you think? Truthfully, its alot shorter than my other story, but I figure I can fill this with more chapters that way, and it'll be easier to orginize me thoughts. I promise each chapter won't be under 2000 words though, so your eyes can continue to suffer. That'd be cruel of me to take away the pain you get from reading long stories. Anyway...next chapter will be coming quick. Yakusoku.