Nebulous Connections

The sun peeked through any gap it could find in the hazy clouds of early spring. Personally, I'd rather it stay hidden. I wasn't ready for the weather to get warmer.

I was sat on the step waiting outside the dorm for two reasons. The first, and theoretically the most important by some standards, was that Minamoto would be coming by shortly to talk to me about what the next steps were in me being a member of Anahata, and something about meeting with the 'handlers' later today, whatever that means. The second, and most personally immediate, was that I wanted a drink from the vending machine outside, but it was occupied. Hoshizuna was staring through the window, darting between all of the bottles and cans. I'd seen her hand lift every so often, only to lower it again.

Is she okay? She's been there for a while...

My focus on her was broken when the sound of a door latch clicked open behind me. It was Eri, dressed in Anahata uniform. Despite me being outside with her for as long as she'd been at the vending machine, only Eri's appearance grabbed Hoshizuna's attention enough for her to no longer be entranced by the drink selection.

"Oh, hi Eri. And Beryl, too."

Eri said nothing and continued down the sheltered path past Hoshizuna.

"Either of you want anything from the vending machine?"

It felt awkward asking, but I knew if I didn't, I'd only be getting thirstier as I wait for her to make up her mind. But this was one of my first experiences with Japanese-style vending machines. From looking at it from a distance alone I could tell the selection was nothing like what I was used to.

I approached the vending machine, cautious of what was available. Peering inside, I'd finally come to understand what made Hoshizuna deliberate for so long. She leaned her arm against the window and tilted her head at me.

"I've seen that look before. If you're not sure what you want, maybe I could make some recommendations?"

She hovered her finger over the window in a way that reminded me of a teacher aiming at the blackboard.

"The ones with blue labels underneath are cold drinks, and the red label ones are hot. What are you in the mood for?"

I thought for a moment but replied with a shrug and a blank look. Surprisingly, the weather was neither too hot nor cold to shift my opinion either way. Just to make it harder for me. Thank you as always, weather.

"You're probably not accustomed to the kind of flavours we have here. Black tea, maybe? In that case, I'd recommend Koko no Koucha. It looks like they have milk, lemon, or regular."

"Um, sure, yes. I'll have the milk one... please. Thank you."

I'd spend some time discovering other options later, for now, it was a safer idea to stick with what I knew.

"Since you're going for something pretty standard, I think I'll go for something that I don't usually get. I haven't had breakfast so a filling and sweet beverage would be nice... Ahah!"

She pushed the button underneath a pink and red can with large black writing on it. It was one with a red label, so I at least knew it was a hot drink. She scooped both her can and my bottle from the flap at the bottom, after both had landed there with a satisfying clatter. More eager than I was for refreshment, she cracked her can open moments after it had reached her hands, taking it to her lips and tipping it back.

"Mm... Oshiruko... Damn, that's sweet. Feels wrong not having this in winter, but it tastes great. Sorry, here's your tea."

I just manage to catch the bottle as she lobs it to me without warning. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve but remembers that I can see her and tries to cover up her mistake of etiquette, flapping her sleeve around as if that would somehow erase the memory.

"The drink's on me. I'm sure you'll have some chances to pay me back in the future. I'll be on my way now, see you later."

I started to inspect the plastic bottle to keep myself busy, but I wasn't left alone for long. Shortly after Hoshizuna had walked away, Minamoto arrived.

"It's time for your personal briefing. Let's walk and talk."

Without much hesitation, perhaps out of compliancy with Minamoto's magnitude of presence, I followed her.

As I walked with Minamoto, I noticed Eri reappear from behind one of the pillars in the walkway. She snuck up to the vending machine, swiftly reaching to push the button for what, at this distance, resembled juice. For some reason, she stopped herself after checking around behind her, and slid her finger down to a can of black coffee instead, swiping it from the compartment and scuttling away.

While I was distracted, Minamoto took notice of the drink in my hands, which was still unopened.

"Koko no Koucha, huh? I'm more of a Georgio person myself. Nothing wakes me up like a strong, bitter taste."

Maybe I could have used something a bit stronger. Last night I'd barely slept. An unfamiliar ceiling was burned into my brain, and the bizarre touch of a futon was only just held back by me wearing my old clothes to bed. Yet even they were losing their comfort, the only things left connecting me to memories that were becoming ever more distant.

As usual, Minamoto broke my lamenting thoughts wide open with an interruption.

"Yesterday was hardly a routine mission. Leviathan attacks on the island are not uncommon but it's rare that they approach so directly and so ferociously. For some reason they've become a lot bolder lately, passing by closer and closer to the island. Power cuts are becoming increasingly common because of their presence. Something is brewing, Beryl, and having you here as an extra pair of hands couldn't have come at a better time."

Reflections of that unearthly beast bounced around in my memory. Its scaled hide abounded with gorge-like cracks and serrated patterns. The deep blue of its body was only matched by the piercing red of its eyes. A morbid curiosity pulled me toward questions.

"And the Leviathans, they..."

"Anahata fights what lies beneath the surface because that is where we all reside as well. The Leviathans are our enemy, they are deadly and inhuman, and we must defeat them, so that one day we may lose that same notoriety."

"I've heard about contract jobs as well."

"Contract jobs from the mainland are given to us as supplementary income. Our investment has been... declining due to past incidents. But we continue on. Not many know of us, but those that do tend to take advantage of our dubious legality for their own ends. Mercenaries, soldiers, call us what you will, but it's our fate. There's no running from that. We cannot afford to be afraid, because..."

She clutches her shirt tight between her fist.

"We have no heart left to break. No life left to lose."

I nodded, but I didn't know what I was nodding at. Nodding was all I could do. I'd resigned myself to what lied ahead. It wasn't an ideal future, but it was a future. The first one that had ever been clear to me.

---

After completing her lecture, Minamoto escorted me to a building that looked like a bar, with a large wooden sign above the entrance. Standing outside the entrance with me, she placed her hands on her hips and addressed me.

"I'll have someone start giving you Japanese lessons. While English is common here, the abundance of Japanese members, handlers, and staff on the island mean that learning it would be helpful. We also go to the mainland for missions and contracts. Everyone is expected to have at least some knowledge of both languages. Excluding Maeve, but she's never far from Uriel, so until we can convince her to learn herself, he's also her unofficial translator."

I'd heard Japanese before and had some awareness of vocabulary but I'd never thought I'd be learning it. 

"You can guess why I'm telling you this. Don't worry though, they don't bite. We won't let them."

I wondered if the person that saved me was a sociable person. There must be some techniques or tricks to this kind of thing. Someone like them must have been charismatic, kind, and open. I... wasn't so sure I was capable of that, though. The image I had was like that of a slice of lettuce: refreshing, crisp, adaptable, reliable. I pictured the dew rolling down the leaf and the clean taste that you get when you add lettuce to a meal. A sensation was all I had to go on, the form the lingering memories of that night took. 

It could also have been that I was hungry.

I suppose it might have made more sense to see them as a red cabbage leaf instead, because of what we had in common, but red cabbage on its own was, in my opinion, disgusting. If it meant I had a better image of them in my mind, I'd have to distance them from me.

In my fascination and disbelief I was still treating them like a hero, but I, I was still nobody. I was a cabbage.

"You'll be meeting the handlers as part of a sort of celebration for our win against the Leviathan. Although most of the handlers weren't there, it's a necessary morale booster."

"You mentioned them before... but what do they do?"

"RepliCors are precious, expensive, and highly advanced. Handlers are there to protect them."

With Minamoto bursting the doors open, I was greeted by a low-lit room furnished with burnished wood and low tables atop creamy tatami mats. Surrounding the longest table, a short distance away from the bar, was a group of people. One of them, adorned with flat streaks of shiny black hair and a pair of bright orange sunglasses resting on her forehead, was looking straight at me.

She was waving a frothy glass of half-finished beer in her hands and perked up as soon as she saw me. Led by Minamoto, I approached the table. Alongside her, I also recognised the man with the fedora and scarf I'd seen with Eri in the dorm.

"Wassup? Nice to meet ya, I'm Rinko. Oh, uh, surnames too, right? Rinko Ogawa."

"I'm Beryl. Nice to meet you, too."

"Beryl? Beryl, huh. Beryl..."

"Just Beryl is fine."

"Right, got it. Beryl."

She wasn't wearing a uniform, but I couldn't spot anyone that she'd be the Handler for.  I was playing my own game of guessing which handler was partnered with which member, but it fell short immediately due to a lack of knowledge.

"Looking for the member I'm paired with? He's away at the moment. Morpho's a popular boy, y'know?. Well, you don't know, I guess. The point is, he's a pretty upstanding guy by our standards, so he's one of, I'd go as far as saying the only, member that gets any good press, meaning he gets contracts from actual public figures and such. They're even thinking of using him as the representative of introducing RepliCors to the wider populace."

I didn't think we got any press to be honest. But it seems I'd found the exception.

"It's kinda nice to kick back and relax without having to babysit him though."

Her English was also remarkable. I hardly noticed an accent. Which led to the question that Minamoto then asked her. Or I would call it a question if she had asked. 

"Sounds like you've got plenty of free time on your hands now, Rinko. Start teaching Beryl here Japanese from tomorrow."

"Huh? Oh yeah sure, I've never taught anyone before but I'll give it a shot."

"It was a foolish decision to choose Morpho to be a representative in Japan."

Someone sitting across the table spoke, a scowl engraved into his comparatively youthful brow, sat staunchly with his arms crossed.

"Foolish? Wazzat mean? He's a golden boy, I couldn't think of anyone with a more marketable face on this island. I bet they'd even sell magazines with him on it."

"He's hardly a representative of anything. He's preoccupied with his own morals, something we can't afford on the battlefield."

"Not on our battlefield, no. But his battlefield is one where he battles people with lanyards and microphones rather than fish with nostrils as big as my head. And we need someone who can fight there."

"You'd know a lot about lanyards and microphones, wouldn't you? Or, should I say, you did."

The black-haired women grew silent. Minamoto took this chance to jump into the fray.

"Tsubaki, introduce yourself."

"Tsubaki Kondou. A pleasure."

"Handshake or bow."

In response to Minamoto's order, he reached out his hand, almost as stiff as his sitting position. I shook it for a moment before he withdrew it.

"Oh come now, Tsubaki-kun, play nice with the young lady. Maybe you'll be a bit friendlier after a couple more drinks. On the other hand, nice to meet you, Beryl-chan."

The scarf-wearing man from earlier made himself known, and he holds out his hand at a jaunty angle, using the other to tip his fedora at me. His patchy goatee was practically drawn onto his gaunt face.

"You'll refer to her as Beryl-san if you insist on honorifics, Mr. Sadamune Carmichael."

He chuckled to himself, adjusting his hat back onto his head.

"Right, as you say, boss lady. My apologies, Beryl-san. Looking forward to seeing the light show I've heard you're known for."

I wasn't expecting news of me using my Pulse to have spread already. Was it actually... impressive? No, there's no way. For the person that owned this RepliCor before me, that was probably a paltry feat. I shouldn't even think of getting a big head over it.

Minamoto gestured toward Uriel, who was also sat among them.

"You've already been acquainted with Uriel, of course."

As before, he bowed to me.

"Hello once again, Miss Beryl."

The lady with the sunglasses, Rinko, slammed her elbow on the table as she leaned in toward him.

"You want a drink, Uriel? You've been sat here for ages but you haven't touched a drop."

"No thank you. I would prefer to refrain from drinking alcohol."

"Damn, what a spoilsport. More for me, I guess."

Tipping back her glass and gulping down its contents for a second, she lowered it again and raised her voice, swirling the froth that was sitting at the bottom of it now that it was empty.

"Where's Saga?"

She was met by a stilted reply from Tsubaki.

"She said that drinking would cloud her thoughts."

"She always says that."

"There's your answer then."

"Aw but we have snacks, and she needs to meet Beryl still."

Minamoto thrust herself back into the conversation.

"Beryl will be here for a short while so there will be time. But I have to take her to see her own handler first."

"Ah... So she got shafted with him. Well, you know where he'll be."

"Yes, of course. Continue as you were."

As Minamoto escorted me away, I scanned the faces of the people I had barely met, nabbing any defining features I could as I gave them a weak wave. I noticed that not only Rinko but also Sadamune and Tsubaki were wearing a thin, black choker around their necks. Thinking back to Uriel, I recalled that something similar was tied around the neck of his shirt collar as well. The further we walked from their table, the more Minamoto's shoulders loosened.

"It's best not to be too acquainted with the others' handlers."

I tilted my head. She was the one that thrust me into all of this.

"Handlers are criminals, Beryl. Given a position here in exchange for having their crimes, and identities, wiped from the record. They live to defend the Anahata members and their RepliCors. Not by any code of honour or sense of duty, no. But because we kill them if they don't."

"So... am I right in guessing that they're not actually regular chokers...?"

"You've got a good eye, at least. You're right, they're not. They're euthanasia collars. I was personally against calling them that, after all, there's nothing sympathetic or humane about them, but the higher-ups said it was to make them sound 'less threatening'. Give me a break. As if criminals really need to be treated like children. I think they know the true brutality of the world better than most."

They were all... criminals? What crimes would be so severe that fleeing here and going into hiding at the risk of your own death is the most preferable option?

None of them even seemed threatening to me. Even Tsubaki, with his serious demeanour and irritable disposition, was softened by his child-like features and neat hair bun.

"That means my Handler's also a criminal..."

"It seems disturbing at first but they're tame. We tamed them, after all.

There is one exception, however. Uriel's a Handler by choice. He went through all the same procedures as one, but he's never had a criminal record."

"Then why did he decide to become one?"

"You'll have to ask him about that one. A dedication to his charge strikes me as the main reason, but beyond that, I can't say. It's not within the job description of a Captain to meddle in the personal affairs of her soldiers, least of all her soldier's own subordinates."

"Subordinates?"

"Well, you're more like a team, but I'd say Anahata members have privileges that their handlers do not, so there's definitely that hierarchy to take into consideration."

Walking slightly behind Minamoto, we approached the end of the room. A majority of the people were mingling nearer the entrance surrounding the main table, the one laden with drinks and snacks, but at this distance, far from the clinking of glasses, the glowing lights from behind the bar, and the rustling of feet, there was nobody but us and one other person.

"This here is your handler."

I looked down to see a man leaning against the wall, a book pinned open with the precision of a surgeon with a baby between a pair of forceps, in which his head was thoroughly buried, despite what his apathetic expression would tell you. His frame was thin and slender, notably feminine, and his eyes were thin and desolate, a purple vein of fatigue hanging below his eyelids. Without distracting himself from his novel, he sighed and responded curtly.

"Hi."

I really don't want to have to be the one to initiate the conversations...

Minamoto struck up a conversation with him but remained standing, her posture steady.

"What name are you going by the moment? Is it still Viggo?"

"Not right now. Emil should suffice."

"Right, well, Emil, meet Beryl. You'll be her handler from today."

I bowed to him, something that had become slightly customary due to my adaptation to Japanese customs despite the fact that neither he nor I were Japanese ourselves. There was no response, neither did he seem like someone who'd be any more willing to reply to a handshake or a wave. I pushed some words out of my mouth to see if that might earn me anything.

"I'll be in your care."

"Sure."

Well, I tried.

"It takes a while to get a word out of Vi-... Emil here, but I'm sure you'll find a way. You have to, in order for you two to cooperate as a team. Handlers and Anahata members must stick to each other like glue while out in the field. They're an important failsafe. If you're struggling with conversation topics, try asking him about one of his many names."

Emil turned the page in his book, not bothered by the exchange happening above him.

"This is more of an informal introduction, anyway. You'll be briefed properly when you two are paired for tomorrow's mission. For now, feel free to take a break and... enjoy the atmosphere. But don't drink too much, I won't be held liable for anyone with a hangover."

Before leaving me, Minamoto placed her hand on my shoulder and uttered something to me.

"A sign of your position in life, and the sign of the respect others have for you, is represented by who asks the questions to whom. Those always asking the questions will forever be looking up to those that can answer them. Make sure you remember that."

As Minamoto parted ways with me and my newfound partner/subordinate/handler, whatever he was, I continued to linger awkwardly nearby.

What crime did this guy commit? Robbing a bookstore? Not returning a library book on time?

"You're blocking the light."

"Right... sorry."

I stepped to the left.

"...Still blocking the light."

I sat on the table beside me, facing Emil. He nodded and returned to reading, which I took as confirmation that I wasn't obscuring his reading anymore.

Not that I should be that worried about it. He could have moved, too.

Unable to muster a topic, I leant to the side to gleam the title of the book he was reading.

Leviathan, or The Matter, Forme and Power of-

Possibly noticing me, I was cut short as Emil spoke without warning.

"I heard that you got your RepliCor from someone you knew nothing about. And that they defended you from an unknown assailant."

"Uh, that's right. I'm still coming to terms with it, but I'm alive now thanks to them. Figuring out what to do now that I am... is the next step."

"Where I come from, there's no clearer sign of deception than compassion."

"And... where do you come from?"

"If you're looking for valiance, you've come to the wrong place. Although, you don't have much of a chance to find someplace else."

He ignored me, huh

"Anyway, if I were you, I'd treat that incident with a grain of salt. Even I don't know the goings-on of the people behind Anahata, not that I haven't tried to find out."

Finally standing up, Emil stored his book under his arm and removed his glasses, hanging them from his trouser pocket. He breezed past me, but came to a stop, talking without turning to me still.

"Seems I'll be working with you from tomorrow. If thinking about that person gives you respite, I don't blame you. Just enjoy the dream while it lasts. This place has a habit of giving you a rude awakening."

The others were ghosts to him as he passed through them and the door on his way out.

Unsure of where to go next, I glanced back toward the other tables, where I saw Minamoto beckon me over to a table where she, Anya, Hoshizuna, Berrak, and Eri were sat.

Joining them, I couldn't manage to pour myself a drink or start eating any of the snacks. I didn't sense a reason to celebrate.

(Author Note: Chapter pacing and content still not finalised)