Calm at the Disco

Watanabe felt himself slip somewhere else for a second.
A dark space swallowed him whole, slowly seeping inside and filling him to the brim.
And when he was filled completely, the familiar tingling returned to the tips of his fingers.

It always came to him whenever he picked up a guitar.
As if some mischievous little demon were egging him on to strike the strings and let the music loose.
That persistent itch — like mosquito bites — left him no choice.

His head spun. He shut his eyes, shook his head, opened them again.

"Don’t fear this feeling. Accept it. Go". - said he finally to himself.

***

“Oh, finally.”
Yukino hurried down the stairs. Out of habit she reached to take off her coat and hang it in the tiny closet that doubled as a coatroom and then remembered just one little important thing.

The weight in her right pocket.

She nodded to herself and walked past.

The hall was almost full, though the concert apparently hadn’t started yet. Nothing seemed to have changed since the last time: the same dim basement space lit by a couple of ceiling lamps, the clinking of bottles and glasses by the bar counter, and that intrusive electric hum you couldn’t escape.

Squeezing through the crowd with difficulty, Yukino finally managed to face Natsune.

“Natsu-chan!”

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Natsune said, looking up, locking her phone, and giving Yukino a mildly reproachful glance. Yukino couldn’t tell whether Natsune’s eyes sparkled from genuine excitement or if it was just the reflection of the overhead lights.

“Where else would I go…” Yukino smirked back.

“And why didn’t you take off your coat? Aren’t you hot?” Natsune gave her a suspicious look.
Indeed, almost everyone in the room was without outerwear. The place was packed, and if a crazy mosh pit broke out later, a coat would definitely get in the way, but—

Click-clack.

Yukino remembered the weight in the right pocket.

“I got cold on the way here,” she brushed it off. “I’ll take it off later. Maybe.”

Like the club itself, Natsune hadn’t changed much since last time. In the six months they hadn’t seen each other, she had only gotten prettier and dyed her hair ginger. Her white knitted turtleneck sweater completed the image of the sweet, kind girl Natsune had always been in Yukino’s eyes from the very first day they met.

Yukino almost regretted inviting her here.
It felt like this wasn’t a place for someone like her at all.

“It suits you,” Yukino said, grabbing a strand of her own hair, hinting at Natsune’s new color.

She felt a slight awkwardness, and a polite compliment seemed appropriate.

“Just playing around with colours, thanks." - Natsune smiled, seeming genuinely pleased.

Yukino was about to ask something else when an electric hum ripped through the hall as the guitars connected to the amps. She froze mid-sentence.

Everyone in the room, including Natsune and Yukino, instinctively turned toward the sound.

***

“That’s right. Where else would I go?” Watanabe thought.
There was no turning back.

He struck the strings, roared into the microphone, and the magic of music filled the cramped basement.

***

Twenty-six hours earlier.

Yukino sat in a chair in the office of her department chief.
Atsushi Honjō — her direct superior — was bent over his desk, writing something with deliberate focus.
He lifted the pen, frowned, smoothed his mustache, crossed something out, rewrote it, then finally extended the note.

“Alright, look — everything’s approved. You’re going to the concert tomorrow, the ticket’s already been purchased for you.” Honjō handed her a folded sheet of paper.

Yukino nodded automatically and took both the ticket and the note.

It wasn’t her first time in the chief’s office, but she didn’t come here often. She looked around with cautious curiosity as he spoke. Nothing much had changed since last time, except for the growing unease inside her. She was used to regular team briefings, but she had never been alone with the chief before.

“And here…”
Honjō leaned down, opened a desk drawer, and took out a gun. He placed it on the table and slid it toward Yukino.

“You must already know how to use it, or you wouldn’t be sitting here, would you?”

“Well… they taught us… yeah,” she nodded, taking the pistol.

A pleasant, calming chill spread through her palm.

“This is only for emergencies. Don’t worry. You don’t need to do much for now. Go to the venue, take a look around… you said you were inviting a friend?”

“Uh-huh.” Yukino nodded.

“Perfect. A little pleasure with your business, so to speak. Just take a look at them… who they are, what kind of people… no need to earn their trust yet or make contact. The main thing is to get a feel for the situation and gather as much information as you can without direct interaction.”

Yukino nodded again.

“Relax,” Honjō suddenly smiled and smoothed his mustache again - “I can tell you’re nervous. Just remember - you’re just an ordinary girl who went to a concert with her friend. That’s it.”

“Understood,” Yukino said.

Click-clack.

She wasn’t bothered by the role of a fangirl crushing on the guitarist of a popular band.
She simply couldn’t understand why she needed a gun for that.

***

“God, that was intense!” Natsune croaked, her voice hoarse as she tugged her sweater off.

Yukino knew Natsune liked Standard Splendid - she just pretended not to show this, but as soon as she started dancing, slammimg and singing along like she knew every song by heart... come one, are you serious, girl? Who’s here outplaying who now, huh?

The band announced a short break, and Natsune and Yukino stepped outside to get some fresh air.
Steam billowed out of the open door along with the stream of people - some catching their breath, some stepping out for a smoke.

Natsune threw the sweater over her shoulders and remained in a simple black T-shirt, breathing heavily. She had clearly worked up a sweat.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, dummy,” Yukino scolded lightly.

“Oh please. And why are you still wearing a coat?”

Click-clack.

“Seriously, you invited me here, and then you spend the whole evening standing off to the side like not interesting or not enjoying at all. You don't like it?” Natsune persisted.

“No, I do like it, it’s just…”

Just while Natsune had been dancing and slamming in the crowd, Yukino spent more time assessing the environment than listening to the music.
She needed to learn more about these guys.

Alright, the tallest one in the center, the jacket and shirt — that should be the one called Watanabe. Their frontman, leader, vocalist… basically does everything, Yukino checked the data stored in her memory.

She gently tugged on her earlobe, and a cold sensation spread through her head.
Yukino closed her eyes, scrolling through her recollections…

Fukuoka Police Technomagic Prevention Department
Archive Case #42/104-037
File #6, featuring communication between suspects XX and YY, suspected of technomagic abuse…

“No, wait, that’s not it…” Yukino jerked her head in irritation.

“Rei-chan? Are you okay? Why do you squeezing eyes? Your head hurts?”- Natsune looked at her with growing worry.

"Rei-chan". Wow.
Haven’t heard anyone call me by my name in forever.
Yukino Rei.
It’s been only ‘Yukino-san’ lately…
Damn it, why now of all times…

• The 19/01/38 incident caused massive malfunction of electronic devices throughout the world. We were well aware of the Y2K38 problem decades before. More than that, most critical systems had been switched to 64-bit integer timestamps in advance, but it turned out that wasn’t enough…

“S T O P!”

Yukino suddenly dropped into a crouch, clutching her head.
The cold stream of thoughts trickling between her brain and eardrum cut off sharply.
She exhaled, relieved, as if someone had just pulled out a rotten tooth.

“Rei-chan… you really don’t look well. Maybe we should leave?” - Natsune’s concern had shifted to fear.

“No… no… I’m fine,” Yukino straightened up, extending her arm.
“They’ve only played half the concert. Would be silly to leave now.”

 She smiled.

It felt as though someone had injected novocaine straight into her left ear.
No pain, but she couldn’t hear anything with it either.

Damn… overdid it. Need to report this to Honjō-san or the tech department so they can adjust the settings…

Click-clack.

“You sure you’re okay?” - Natsune still looked tense.

“Yeah, really, I’m fine.”

Natsune nodded.

They stood like that for a couple more minutes - Natsune catching her breath, Yukino trying not to think too much right here and now.

“They play great, right?” Natsune finally asked.

“Yeah. Especially that… Watanabe,” Yukino pretended she didn’t remember his name right away.

“He’s fire,” Natsune nodded.

More like lightning than fire, Yukino thought.

The break was ending, and people began drifting back toward the entrance.

“Come on, they should be starting again soon. Let’s go in. You’ll freeze— aww!”

Yukino touched Natsune’s shoulder and felt a small spark of static electricity at her fingertips.

“Why are you shocking me, you meanie?” she jokingly insulted her.

“Oh whatever, sorry!” Natsune replied with mock offense - “Come on already!”

“Want my coat? Not cold?”

“No, why? I’m fine, seriously!”

Actually, Yukino would never give Natsune her coat - but in this exact situation offering mattered.
She believed the term was preventive bluff - at least that’s what they taught in the academy.

Click-clack.

***

On the opposite side of the street, a lanky, unremarkable man in a trench coat watched the club entrance.
He slipped an opened beer bottle into his coat pocket, tugged lightly at his earlobe, and as soon as a pleasant chill spread down his spine, he muttered under his breath:

“Yeah. Been walking around the club since opening. Some chick in a black coat. Pretended to be drunk off my ass and ‘accidentally’ bumped her shoulder. She’s carrying a gun. Why - no clue.
Figure I should head into the concert myself.”

He blinked and jerked his head slightly.
Something cold brushed his forehead, making him look up.

The first snowflakes were falling over Fukuoka, glittering in the light of neon signs.