Black Dreams

I remembered running through that stupid District. The white streetlights, the shouts of drunken men.

The fear and the panic.

The graffiti and grime.

The dozens of drones in the sky, illuminating everything behind me.

I remembered being an innocent little girl.

I remembered running until I was out of breath.

"Run, run, and don’t look back!" Beyond the lights of the streetlamps and drones, I remembered running aimlessly. Lost. Abandoned by fate.

I remembered feeling that virus crawling through my veins.

Those men wanting to take away what little I had.

I remembered stumbling over that poorly sealed manhole cover.

The blood and pus on my yellowish knees.

"It burns, it burns so much! Get up!"

The pain caused by those men who pinned me to the ground.

"Don’t resist, Katy Shimizu!"

…

"Help! Mommy, help!"

I screamed back in the real world, violently tearing away my sheets, waking up in the middle of the night. My heart ready to explode.

Still gasping, I touched my body all over to make sure everything was in order.

In the darkness, the only notable thing about that agonizing moment was the distant murmur of the rain. It became more noticeable as my heartbeat slowed.

I checked my hologram to see it was only 4:30 in the morning.

Still terrified, I spent a few more seconds watching the rain fall, illuminated in various hues by the outside LEDs.

"Damn it..." Soon, frustration overtook me. I ended up covering my eyes, trying to hold back my tears.

Without enough strength to fight, I ended up crying uncontrollably, sitting on my bed, hugging my pillow as if it had the power to help me.

"Why? Why do I have to keep suffering like this? Why couldn’t it all just end that day?! Damn it!"

...

This isn’t going to make me better...

Unable to get much more rest, I decided to head to the office earlier than usual.

Exhausted, I thought work might distract me enough to make me forget that bad dream.

The Division 3 office was still dark. The clock on the wall read "6:41 AM," so I had plenty of time to focus on my tasks until eight.

Let’s see, I still have to finish yesterday’s report with Hiro...

Hot coffee in hand, I walked to the left side of the desk and sat in my spot. Of the two chairs, I took the one with its back to the door but a view of the city.

"Alright..." I put on my holographic control glasses.

After making sure my bangs weren’t in the way, I pressed the button on the right side of the glasses to turn on the holographic screen.

Manipulating the screen with my fingers, I opened a blank document and titled it with the case’s name and date.

"Where should I start... Hiro could’ve taken care of this, with how much he loves talking..."

That’s how I spent a good while.

As the morning light grew stronger, piercing the clouds, my colleagues began to arrive.

“Oh, good morning, Katy. What an early bird,” Irina smiled, as perfect as always.

"Good morning, Irina!"

Shortly after, Felix arrived with two cups of coffee, one for him and one for his partner. Seeing I was busy with the report, he just greeted me with a thumbs up and a smile.

The sun kept rising, trading its orange hue and lonely clouds for a bit of blue.

"Good morning... Here we go again," Hiro came in, still half-asleep.

"Hi..." Ryunosuke followed soon after.

I just smiled back at them.

"Good morning!" Carlos entered too, accompanied by Isayama and Shinpei, who, despite the hours, was already lecturing him.

"That’s why you have to take four deep breaths before speaking to the camera..."

"Yeah, yeah..." my colleague responded.

“They taught us that in police academy... Come on, follow my advice, and you’ll see how well it works..." With a pat on the back, he sent him to his seat.

"Good morning, Katy..." Isayama greeted me as he reached his chair, still feeling the force of Shinpei’s slap.

"Good morning, Isayama..." I replied, focusing again on the report.

As mates, we sat across from each other. Despite the holograms, if I squinted, I could even see him through.

...

The morning went on, and both of us completed our reports and other tasks without issue.

I started organizing my calendar and replying to a couple of emails. Meanwhile, Isayama read a guide Carlos had shared with him about improving his on-camera speaking skills. I had to admit it wouldn’t hurt me either...

He seemed cheerful.

While manipulating the document, he hummed odd little tunes and rhythmically tapped the table with his fingers. It was as if he’d gone completely mad, typing imaginary notes on the wood instead of the hologram.

It’s strange to see him so absorbed...

“Ahem, I-Isayama...” I called out softly. He didn’t respond.

He’s really focused...

"Isayama!"

“Huh? K-Katy. Oh, sorry, I was... Uh, focused on reading this...”

Why is he apologizing?

"I-I’m sorry if I ignored you, i-is something wrong?" He smiled like he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

"N-no, nothing’s wrong...”

This guy…

“How’s your case report coming along?"

"The one with Carlos? I guess it’s going fine; writing them is the easy part..." He kept tapping the table with his fingers. "A-and you?"

Suddenly, he stopped his hand. It was as if he noticed I was looking at it.

As if he didn’t want me to see him doing that.

What’s up with him? Why can’t we just talk normally?

"Good, too..."

"I-I’m glad. If you want, I can send you a guide from Carlos; it’s for improving reports... N-not that I think you need it..." He looked away.

It irritated me.

I hated how reserved he was with me. How he kept so much of his true self hidden, as if I didn’t deserve to know him...

I couldn’t understand why he sometimes looked at me in silence. Why he got nervous when we talked.

Why were we such different people.

Why he looked at his left hand guiltily, as if he’d done something wrong.

You’re such an idiot...

“U-uh, Isayama...”

"H-hey, Katy..." He interrupted me before I could ask. "How does it feel like to have so many implants?"

"Huh?"

That question struck me like a dagger.

And he asked it just like that, without even looking at me, while going back to tapping the table with his hand as if constantly sending out the same Morse code.

Why would he ask something like that? What does he mean by it?

It wasn’t the right day or place for such a question, and my heart knew it. That’s why my breathing quickened.

My mind, intimidated by those words, took a split second to transport me back to that night: to that fateful chase in the Outskirt Districts.

That fear.

My tears.

My pain.

"Why do you care...? Don’t be stupid; what kind of question is that...?" I replied, sadly, as a prisoner of my memories.

I sat back down, silencing him. He seemed unable to grasp the gravity of his question.

You’d never understand it…

Just like Ryunosuke, who, though silent, felt a twinge of sadness, thinking that, perhaps, Isayama Tore and Katy Shimizu were like oil and water.