Rooftop Team Recruitment

Miyuu stared at the note she’d scribbled in her messiest handwriting, the words “I’m sorry. Don’t follow me.” staring back at her. The guilt in her chest twisted. If she made it through this in one piece, the student council was going to be furious. And honestly? She couldn’t blame them. She’d been doing so well—relatively speaking—at staying out of trouble.

But the stakes were too high to care about any of that now. Natsuki’s life was on the line, and that made every other consequence feel insignificant.

Dragging the council—or anyone else she cared about—into this wasn’t an option. Not this time.

With a deep breath, she placed the note on the desk beside her student device. Before she could hesitate, Miyuu turned and bolted out of Natsuki’s dorm, her determination outweighing the fear clawing at her chest.

.

She darted through narrow alleyways, her breath loud in her ears, hopping fences and vaulting over walls with the kind of reckless skill that came from a lifetime of running away. She’d run from her family, from the police, from the student council, from murderous death bots, from her problems, and—let’s be real—from herself.

This was new. Unfamiliar. For the first time, she wasn’t running away. She was running towards something. Towards a friend who needed her. Towards a fight she couldn’t afford to lose.

And honestly? It was terrifying.

K.A.T.O.’s voice popped into her head, sardonic as ever. Really loving the part where you charge in alone without a plan. Great strategy. Flawless execution.

I’m improvising. She shot back.

Ah, yes, because that worked out so well the last time. He snarked.

Do you ever shut up? She internally hissed, leaping over a rusted fence and landing in a crouch on the next rooftop.

Do you?

She ignored him, her eyes sweeping over the industrial zone stretching out below. All skeletal scaffolding and twisting pipes that belched plumes of smoke into the sky. The air wasn’t as toxic as it looked, thanks to the biomec Sky Keepers fluttering overhead, their hummingbird-like wings filtering the smog.

The route K.A.T.O. had mapped out led her through this quieter, grimier side of the city —less surveillance, fewer questions, and, mercifully, no crowds. The abandoned labs weren’t far now, just a short sprint across the city’s shadowed backstreets.

She scaled the side of a derelict factory, her fingers gripping oily metal handholds that left black streaks across her palms. With a burst of energy, she pulled herself up to the next ledge and kept moving, vaulting over gaps and weaving around rusted exhaust vents with the ease of someone who had definitely been chased across rooftops before. More times than she cared to admit.

K.A.T.O. chimed in again. Don’t forget: if you die doing this, I get to say ‘I told you so.’

Miyuu rolled her eyes as she sprinted across the rooftop. If I die, I won’t be around to hear it, so knock yourself out.

She leapt across a gap between buildings, feet skimming the edge of the next rooftop—graceful, efficient, the picture of ninja perfection—only to realize, too late, that there was someone directly in her path..

She braced herself, because stopping was no longer an option, and physics was about to have some strong opinions on the matter.

The impact sent them tumbling across the rooftop in a chaotic tangle of limbs, a metallic clatter, and an exceptionally loud, “OW, WHAT THE HELL?”

Miyuu blinked, her vision swimming, then groaned. Of course. Of all the rooftops in the city, she’d managed to body-slam directly into Bolts.

"Oh, great." Miyuu muttered. "Just my luck."

"You again? What are you doing here? More importantly, what are you doing on top of me?"

Miyuu scrambled to untangle herself, rolling off Bolts. He was sprawled awkwardly on the rooftop, clutching his wrench, his goggles askew on his face.

He sat up, rubbing his head and glaring at her.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Miyuu shot back. She frowned at the pile of tools scattered around him. “What are you even doing up here?”

“Working.” He snapped, adjusting his goggles. “Some of us have jobs, you know. What about you? Out for a casual rooftop jog?”

“None of your business.” She said quickly, brushing past him and ignoring his increasingly sceptical look.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Let me guess—running from the student council? Again?”

She didn’t respond.

Bolts sighed, leaning back against the roof’s railing, his elbows resting on the edge. He looked up to the sky for a second, the gears in his head turning.

“Does this have something to do with Natsuki being absent today?” He asked. “We were supposed to meet at lunch—she wanted my help with one of her frog models. But she didn’t show. And now you’re here jumping rooftops like you’re auditioning for an action holo. My bet? It’s connected.”

Miyuu stiffened, her brain scrambling for an escape route that didn’t involve admitting anything. A solid plan was nowhere to be found, so she went with Plan B: lie, poorly.

“Maybe she wasn’t feeling well…” She offered, weakly.

Bolts raised an eyebrow, leaning forward just enough to make her feel cornered. “Nice try.” He said, his gaze boring into her. “Spill it.”

K.A.T.O.’s voice cut through her neural link with his unnecessary background commentary. Not detecting any surveillance in the area. You’re good to talk. Or, you know, keep lying terribly. Your call.

Miyuu groaned, muttering under her breath, “Shut up, K.A.T.O.” The words slipped out before her brain could catch them.

Bolts blinked, his head tilting. “K.A.T.O.? You mean the bot you went all berserk with at the Circuit Pit? Where is he?” He glanced around the rooftop.

“Never mind that.” She snapped, heat crawling up her neck. “Anyway, it was nice seeing you and all, but I really have to—”

Bolts stepped sideways, blocking her escape. His persistent stare drilled into her and combined with the knot of guilt twisting in her stomach, it finally wore her down.

She exhaled sharply, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Fine. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Bolts’ eyes lit up. “Finally, some honesty.”

Miyuu hesitated, her brain scrambling for a last-minute deflection, but no excuse came. She groaned again and finally blurted out the truth.

Bolts stared at her, his expression shifting from shock to… amusement? He let out a low whistle before breaking into a grin. “Things are finally getting interesting around here.”

“This isn’t a joke!” She snapped, her hands curling into fists. “It’s serious. And I don’t need you tagging along.”

“Yeah, well, too bad.” He said, jamming his wrench into his tool belt. “You’re not exactly radiating ‘I’ve got this under control’ energy. Face it: you’re going to need backup.”

Miyuu folded her arms, fixing him with a glare. “And you think you’re qualified?”

Bolts smirked, leaning casually against the railing. “I know the city better than anyone. I’ve got connections, tech, and a knack for getting into places I’m not supposed to. I can help.”

He’s got a point. And frankly, I’m tired of being the only one keeping you alive. K.A.T.O. added.

Miyuu groaned internally. You’re extra useless today.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a moment to wrestle with her growing frustration. Unfortunately, a tiny, inconveniently rational part of her brain begrudgingly admitted that Bolts might actually be useful. “Fine. But don’t slow me down.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bolts said.

Before she could second-guess herself, Miyuu grabbed Bolts’ wrist and yanked it toward her.

“Hey!” Bolts yelped, yanking back. “What are you—?”

“K.A.T.O., make the connection.” She said, her tone clipped.

“What connection?!” Bolts’ voice pitched slightly, his free hand trying to pry her grip off.

She sighed. “I’m linking K.A.T.O. to your wrist node so we can communicate. And, you know, if something happens to me, at least K.A.T.O. won’t be lost.”

Bolts blinked, his brain visibly buffering as he processed that. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait. Is this some kind of weird tech possession thing?”

“It’s a... failsafe.” She said, avoiding eye contact.

It wasn’t like she’d done this before, so there was a solid 50/50 chance something would explode. But to her relief—and mild surprise—K.A.T.O. infiltrated Bolts’ wrist node without any sparks flying or limbs being lost.

Of course, Bolts wouldn’t be able to sync minds with K.A.T.O. the way she could—lucky him. That circus act was reserved for Miyuu and her human but not-quite-human brain. 

Still, he’d be able to receive messages from Miyuu through K.A.T.O. Probably the most sarcastic middleman in the history of AI communication.

Silver linings, she guessed.

K.A.T.O.’s holographic fox form materialized above Bolts’ wrist node, his glowing eyes flicking between them.

“There. You’re connected.” Miyuu said, releasing Bolts’ arm with a satisfied nod.

Bolts froze, staring at the fox like it might bite him. “Wait, what? Is this safe?”

“It’s not not safe.” Miyuu muttered, which was technically true.

“Not not safe?” Bolts echoed, his voice rising. His free hand shot up to swat at the hologram. “What the—?! Is this thing going to blow off my arm if I say the wrong thing?”

“No…” Miyuu said, rolling her eyes. “Probably not.”

“Probably?” Bolts’ tone was half-panicked, half-offended.

K.A.T.O., looking entirely unbothered, tilted his head. Relax. If I wanted to blow off your arm, I’d have already done it.

Bolts gawked at the hologram. “This thing is sentient?!”

“This thing,” K.A.T.O. drawled, “is way smarter than you. But thanks for noticing.”

“Bolts, meet K.A.T.O., K.A.T.O. meet Bolts. Try not to kill each other, okay?”

Bolts, still staring at the holographic fox, blinked once, then twice. The panic and confusion faded, slowly replaced by an all-too-familiar look of curiosity. Oh no.

“So,” Bolts started, his tone cautious but quickly gaining momentum, “are you fully autonomous, or do you run on a hybrid feedback loop? What kind of bandwidth are we talking here? And—wait—can you interface with—?”

And just like that, Miyuu lost him.

K.A.T.O., of course, was eating it up like someone had just declared him the most important entity in the universe. His tail flicked smugly, and—was that a blush on his holographic cheeks?

“Oh, I’m glad you asked.” He purred, launching into a detailed explanation of his functionality, features, and how he was “vastly superior to any other system you’ve ever encountered.” He might as well have been handing out autographed headshots.

Miyuu felt her patience dwindling at an alarming rate. She cleared her throat. “Hate to interrupt, but in case you forgot, Natsuki’s currently being held captive, and maybe we should be formulating a strategy to, you know, rescue her.”

Bolts barely glanced at her, his focus glued to K.A.T.O. “Yeah, yeah, in a minute. This is important.”

“Really?” Miyuu said flatly. “Because I feel like we might have slightly more pressing matters at hand.”

K.A.T.O., for his part, had the audacity to look even smugger. “I’m glad at least someone appreciates my brilliance.”

Miyuu groaned, dragging her hand down her face with enough force to leave a red mark. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but can we save the ego parade for after we’ve saved Natsuki?”

“Fine.” Bolts muttered, clearly reluctant to end his Q&A session. He shot K.A.T.O. one last wistful glance. “But we’re coming back to this.”

“Can’t wait.” K.A.T.O. said.

Miyuu rolled her eyes. “Great. Now can we focus, or is anyone else planning to waste more of our rapidly shrinking timeline?”