Good Kid

There was no doubt about it. The man lying before me was Chief Kuroda. It took a moment of surprise, but it made sense. He was originally the investigator of the missing people case instead of me, if I was to be transported like this, there was little doubt that he would eventually face the same problem.

“Someone you knew?” Beside me, Duna asked.

“… More or less,” I answered, trying to not reveal too much information.

At the same time, the old man on the ground started to twitch, albeit just slightly, as if suffering from a light electric shock.

His hand moved by an inch. Then his eyebrows shook for a second. Slowly, harshly, but the man was gaining his consciousness back.

When his eyes finally opened, he was staring at me straight to my face.

“… Renji?” It was the first word to come out of the Chief’s mouth. “Is that you? What… happened to you?”

“… I think you had the wrong person.” I answered.

I didn’t want to face him like this. Not when not only my appearance, but my personality had warped beyond his recognition. Thankfully, Duna said nothing — perhaps it was out of consideration, or perhaps he was prying for more information out of me.

I could see the Chief’s pupil widened a bit. He must have been shocked, especially when I just denied any relation towards him. However, as an experienced policeman, he was sure to understand my circumstances.

And that he did. His eyes returned to normal, perhaps a bit droopier than before, while he let out a sigh.

“Perhaps I had the wrong person. I apologize.”

“None taken. This Renji person must be important to you.” I continued.

“He’s…”

As he tried to pick himself up, I took a step forward and offered my hand:

“You look like you could use some help.”

His leg had been like this ever since I was a kid. I knew how hard it was for him to move around.

“Thank you, young man. You’re awfully kind.” The Chief answered.

As I pulled him upward, however, a sharp pain ran through my head like a lightning strike. I winced from the pain, staggering a few steps back. But since my hand was holding the Chief, I accidentally pulled him forward reflexively, forcing him to firmly stamp his cane onto the ground to hold back his, and my, fall.

“Are you okay?” Asked the Chief.

“I’m… fine. I don’t know what went over me.”

It was strange. I’d never had any headaches my whole life, but somehow, ever since I entered this building, these strokes kept occurring. But it wasn’t something that I was too impaired by, so there was no reason for me to voice it out.

Not when there was another urgent matter in hand.

I glanced at the Chief. He was fine, all things considered. Since I last saw him, perhaps he had visually aged a bit more than usual — the wrinkles on his face were more aplenty and apparent. The missing people case was having its toll on him more than he expected, I assumed. But other than that, he was okay. Or rather, he was still the same Chief that I knew.

“Are you feeling off anywhere, Sir?” I tried to ask. “I hope that suddenly appearing in this place wasn’t too hard on your mind.”

“Oh, I’m… adjusting, you can say that,” the Chief answered with a bitter shake of the head. “I’m sure that kid was even in more of a shock than I am right now, especially when he should have been here without anyone to help…”

“Is this “kid” the one called Renji you spoke of?” I continued.

“Yeah, that’s his name,” the Chief nodded. “Poor kid. All he wanted to do was to find his sister, and now he’s in this who-knows-where place. Something tells me Japan is, uh… out of the question,” he glanced at my direction. Seeing me in this form must have been shocking to him.

Nevertheless, I continued the conversation… I must.

“His sister, you say?”

“Yeah. She’s been missing for two years now. But seeing that I’m here, well… I guess that I have a general idea of where she is.”

The Chief was sharp as ever, of course.

“If I may, Sir. What if…”

I hesitated. Even if I knew that it was something that I had to ask, admitting something like this to the Chief, to our guardian for all these years… it felt wrong. There was no remorse left for me, but I still knew. If I were to ask this, there was no going back.

“What if…?” But it was too late for me to go back, as the Chief had heard my words.

“What if… that boy no longer wants to find his sister?”

I thought that the Chief would throw a fit. Or at least he would shrug off the idea. However, what I got in answer was instead a long silence, as if he was contemplating his life choices up until this moment. His eyes looked at me with a hint of sadness mixed with regret. Perhaps he was blaming himself for what had transpired, but he wasn’t at fault.

I wished I could just tell him that right now.

In the end… he only let out a sigh.

“I feel bad for Reiko, but… it’s for the best.”

“... How come?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes widened. He must have not expected me to react so calmly.

“I know that kid wanted to find his sister, but… it should have been a job for us adults. For me, even — I was a policeman in my old world, after all.”

“It’s a job worthy to be proud of,” I said.

“... Maybe on the outside. But when I failed to make that kid’s family whole… I felt like maybe I should have hung my badge a long while ago.”

“You did nothing wrong. Maybe that kid wanted to find his sister himself. It’s his family, after all.”

“But didn’t you say he doesn’t wish to anymore?”

“That…” I couldn’t answer. How was I supposed to explain all of this to him?

But he only lightly shook his head in response.

“I don’t blame him, of course. He’s had too much on his plate already. It’s only natural that at some point, he’d crack.”

“But… What would he do then? If finding his sister was his entire life’s goal, then…?”

“Then perhaps… It's high time he found a new goal for himself.”

“What would that goal be? What if that kid had lost all of his humanity already? Both outside… and inside, as well.”

There was a light smile on Uncle Kuroda’s face, for the first time since he had awoken here.

“No one can just lose their humanity, as long as they have some sentience within them,” he answered. “If he ever found himself ‘losing his humanity’ as he would claim, then all he has to do is look back. To his past deeds, to his childhood joy, to his present companions.”

Normally, I’d flip. I’d say that he wouldn’t get it, how I had been doing so and it hadn’t worked so far. But… he was still right. I hadn’t truly looked at my past yet, or rather… I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, nothing came up. Perhaps that was the cause of the headaches I’d been having — and if I could just jolt back my childhood memories, then maybe this current life of mine might have some meaning behind it.

However, that wasn’t the end of everything. Far from it, even.

As soon as the last words left Uncle Kuroda’s mouth, a flash of metal whooshed past my face, aiming straight into his head. Meanwhile, a loud bang occurred, along with a familiar sound of clicking metal. Meanwhile, Uncle’s cane had already flown as well, going straight from still planted on the ground to raised above Uncle’s head, even if that resulted in his staggering a few steps back.

Before I knew it, Duna had already locked his staff against Uncle’s cane, while the latter had already taken out his gun and fired a shot at the man, whose armored form appeared just in time to take a bullet that was meant for his head.

“Yeah, sorry old man, but I’ve waited long enough. Seeing that you’re still not a monster yet, I’m guessing you’re one of those high-affinity folks. But I’m gonna have to cut you off here — I kinda want our evil god to stay evil, after all.”

“Renji’s no evil god,” answered Uncle. On his hand was his trusty Nambu 60 revolver, its barrel still smoking from the recent fire. “And if you can’t see that, then I’m gonna have to convince you via… other means.”