You're Forgotten, and I’m Forgetting

“Thanks for the food,” said Noah, beaming. “That was the best dish I had in a while!”

“You can spare the compliments,” I said, sitting across from him. I narrowed my eyes, resting my chin on my intertwined fingers. “I believe it’s about time I ask what the hell you guys were investigating.”

The boy’s smile gradually curved into a frown, his shoulders slumping. “We… we were trying… to find my mom,” he mumbled. “And… find out who killed my dad…”

I raised my brows.

“A few months ago, my mom was hospitalized for cancer before she went missing. Mister Holton was the one who worked on her case while my dad looked after me... until about a week ago... when someone broke into our house...”

Tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes. “It… it happened out of nowhere. It was night at that time. My dad and I were sleeping, but I woke up when I heard him screaming. His door was already open when I got there, and… I-I saw someone—I don't know who—lighting my dad on fire wh-while he was still—!”

“Stop,” I interjected. “I’ve heard enough.”

Noah sniffled and wiped his face.

"An arson attack, huh?" I muttered. No wonder he only freaked out about me threatening to burn this place down. It reminded him of that scene, huh? I suppose he had it rough too.

In any case, there was only one mission where I did assassinate a married couple and burned down their house, but they couldn't be his parents since his mother was still alive. Besides, the mission happened roughly a year ago, not last week. 

Out of curiosity, I asked, “What’s your dad’s name?”

“Victor Rosaly.”

Yep, I didn't kill him.

...Wait.

I widened my eyes. “Rosaly? That’s your last name?”

Noah nodded.

“Wait, hold up. Is your mom Celia Rosaly?”

He nodded again.

“Oh…” Damn, I almost killed her last night. Close call. “Right, erm”—I cleared my throat—“anyway, uh, isn’t she the tour guide from last night? You found your mom already, didn’t you?”

“No!” He slammed the table. “Not at all! Mom has completely forgotten everything about me!”

“What?”

Noah balled his fists and furrowed his brows. “A few days ago, Mister Holton found out she suddenly came back and started working for that museum. We tried to see her, but when I ran up to her, she… pushed me away and said she didn’t know who I was!”

I curved a brow. “How the hell is that possible?”

“I don’t know!” the boy cried, sniffling. “That’s what Mister Holton and I are trying to figure out! Ever since I lost my dad and my home, we’ve been trying to find answers.”

“But you’re a kid. You shouldn’t get invol—”

“No!” He slammed harder on the table, visibly shaken. “I have to see this through! I don’t have any other family left, and I don’t want to go to any stupid foster shelters and never know the truth!”

I see. This kid’s got a passion for justice, I thought. Is that why that detective decided to take him in? “So what? Holton’s got you working as his sidekick? You’re not even a teen yet. Is that even legal?”

“Says you! You’ve broken tons of laws!”

“...Touché. Go on.”

Noah sighed and rested his head on his arms. “That night, I hid under my bed before that killer could find me and slipped out my window when I saw my chance. My dad... is gone, but... since my mom was still out there, Mister Holton decided to look after me until I could be with her again. It’s like you said, though. I can't help him, but I can at least watch him through a hidden camera while I stay here, so I’d technically still be there with him. Just not physically.”

I stroked my chin. “I assume he gave you an exception to join him when his next investigation involved seeing your mom, right?”

The child vigorously nodded. “Yeah! I really wanted to see her!” He scowled and lowered his gaze. “I don’t get it. Mom went missing months ago, but she came back cured of cancer and forgot everything. She also used to be a nurse, but for some reason, she’s working at that museum now. We don't know what’s going on with her at all!”

My mind clicked. “So after your first meeting with her, you two decided to sign up for a tour to investigate the museum last night?”

He nodded. “While Mister Holton watches after her, I would sneak around and find out what the museum’s hiding.”

“Seriously? He let you do that? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

The boy shrugged. “He said if I get caught, I could pretend I got lost without getting in trouble.”

“That damn cop’s a bad influence.”

“Mhm. As if you’re any better.”

I sighed and scratched my head. “Moving on—did you find any leads then?”

Noah broke eye contact, face scrunched up in shame. “I almost did. Before you almost killed us.”

“Ah.”

He pouted. “That’s all you have to say? It’s your fault we lost the flash drive!”

I dug around my pockets and pulled out said device. “You’re talking about this?”

Noah dropped his jaw. “Y-Yeah, that’s it! Where’d you find it?”

“You dropped it after throwing that smoke bomb.”

“Oh, really?” He scratched his head. “I never realized… Sorry for throwing that, by the way.”

“It's whatever. Make sure you keep it secured next time.” I tossed the device to him, and he gratefully accepted it, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Got it. Thanks, big bro!”

I shuddered and threw a disgusted glare. “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, why not? You’ve been pretty nice.”

“That’s…”

Huh, now that he mentioned it, I did pour an unnecessary amount of patience into this little pipsqueak. I only wanted to figure out what exactly Axel was investigating and why The Director took it so seriously, but here I was, keeping a random brat company and going off track. The hell was wrong with me?

“You useless pile of waste.”

I gripped my pants and glowered.

…To be honest, I thought I wouldn’t make it back to my shabby motel room after that call. Now that I ended up stuck in this warmer, cleaner place, I suppose relieving my concerns about not sleeping under a roof cooled me down a little…

I faked a cough. “Anyway, you said you’d watch the detective work, yeah? Shouldn’t you call him and tell him you’ve got the data?”

"But he told me not to use the tablet in front of you or you'll hack it and track him down again."

That damn, old smartass. 

"Fine, I won't touch it," I said, raising my hands. I don't need to hack it to know his whereabouts anyway. I can probably guess where he is based on his surroundings. "I'll keep my hands off. You have my word."

"Hmm, okay." 

Wow, talk about easy.

Noah slid off his seat and rushed toward a white cupboard in the corner of the living room. He retrieved a key from his pocket, unlocked it, and pulled out the tablet. I followed him to the sofa and sat across from him while he turned it on and called for the detective, only to face a hologram with a blank icon.

"This is an automated message from Detective Axel Holton of the Elite Investigation Division," the tablet announced. "If you're hearing this, I either lost my phone or I'm in the middle of getting my ass beat. Please call me later or leave a voicemail after this tone."

“Huh, that’s weird,” said Noah. “He never misses my calls.” He called for him once more, only to fail again. Anxiety slowly spread across his face, and after his third attempt, he faced me and handed over his tablet.

I shot my brows up, realizing what that meant. "You trust me that much?"

He nodded. "The chicken pasta was really tasty."

"That's why? Kid, you do realize I'm still after that detective, right?"

"I know, but you're actually super nice, so I'm sure we can work things out!"

"I doubt it, but whatever." I accepted the tablet and inserted a wire into it. It didn’t take long before I found the issue. “The connection’s blocked on purpose,” I said, squinting. “Holton’s not letting us reach him.”

“Really? Why?”

“Time to find out.” I opened a second tab and forced a connection to the detective's device. With one last tap of my finger, the camera footage finally loaded.

And with that, the two of us gaped in disbelief, experiencing the luxury of a first-person perspective of the detective kneeling on a marble floor, clutching his stomach, and confronting another deadly robot.