Neon Codex Sword Gospel: IV - Phoenix Dot EXE

They entered the building. Tsunami now wore a futuristic nun's habit with a rosary around her neck. Kenichi had the multi take the form of one of the ubiquitous crosses the assassins all seemed to carry.

They blended right in with all the other Syndicate people in the lobby. “Just act casual,” Tsunami said. They walked right past the front desk and toward a bank of elevators in the back.

Once the doors had closed, she let out a breath. She leaned forward, and after removing her finger tip, she placed it into a keyhole and turned. The light for the top floor lit up and the elevator began to rise.

She stepped back from the panel, popped her fingertip back on, and after pulling away her wimple and letting her hair flow free, she looked at Kenichi. “It's a long way up,” she said. “How should we pass the time?” Her cheeks glowed as she said this.

He looked at her and smiled. “I really want to show you how serious I am about you,” he said. “So, I'll practice the difficult parts of the songs you sent me.”

Her smile faltered just a bit. Then she nodded.

Kenichi turned his multi into the Les Paul, but with a pair of headphones. His fingers danced upon the neon strings as he trained his muscles to the more intricate parts of Tsunami Minatsu and the Natural Disasters’ oeuvre. Tsunami stood beside him, watching him, fiddling with her hair.

He looked over at her. “Your guitarist was really good,” he said, his voice raised a little louder than it needed to be because of the headphones.

She nodded. She felt her eyes start to sting with fresh tears, thinking about the band, Mizu, Urata, Funka, Fuyu, and Rokku, all dead now. All victims of the Syndicate. She closed her eyes, blinked away the tears while she etched an image of them into her memory. Even if she couldn't do a backup, she'd make sure that this show would memorialize them for the ages. She opened her eyes and looked at Kenichi. He practiced on his guitar with the most serious dedication she had ever seen anybody have before. She envied the guitar. She got an idea for a new song. “Find someone who looks at you the way he looks at music,” she started, trying to find the right melody while she searched her dictionary for words that rhymed with music.

He saw her looking at her, and he smiled. She felt the back of her neck, where M42UM1 had placed the life tracker, and at Kenichi's hand, which was doing more and more intricate fretwork on his neon guitar. Whether he had intended to or not, he was about to die for her.

He stopped playing. “Are you all right?” he said, slipping the headphones off so he could hear her clearly.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her. His multi collapsed, and she gave him a long kiss. After pulling away, he said, almost breathless. “What was that for?”

“For being a hero,” she said. “My hero.”

“Uh,” he said. “You're welcome.” He looked at her. She was beautiful. She was designed to be beautiful. She had all the desirable qualities of a woman. She was designed to have those. She was obviously attracted to him. He thought about returning the kiss, about finding a way to escape the Syndicate, about giving up on all this universe hopping and slaying and dying. But she was designed to do this to him, or so he figured. Plus, she wasn't Marumi, or M42UM1.

She frowned. “Did I do something wrong?” she said.

He took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “It's just that,” he tried to find the right words. “My heart, it belongs to another.”

“Oh,” she said. “I'm sorry.” She stepped away from him and stood next to him in the elevator. After an awkward pause, she said, “She must be lucky.”

“Who?” said Kenichi, whose hand was idly tapping up and down the frets on his guitar, trying to get the patterns down before the show.

“Your girlfriend,” she said.

Kenichi stopped. He looked at Tsunami, then laughed. “She's not my girlfriend,” he said. “Yet.”

Tsunami poked him in the side. “What's her name?” she said. Cat ears sprouted from her head, and her face took on a distinct uwu shape.

Kenichi blushed. “Marumi,” he mumbled.

“The noodle shop owner?” Tsunami said. “Also, you say her name strangely.”

Kenichi scratched the back of his head. “It's not that simple and straightforward,” he said. “Back where I come from, there's a girl who looks just like M42UM1. Well, almost just like her. She doesn't have any cybernetic modifications as far as I know. She's still Marumi, though. I keep running into her wherever I go. World after world after world.” He leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “But she never remembers me.” He looked over at her. “Though, no matter where I go, no matter how many Marumi's I meet, I just want to be with the one back home, my true Marumi.”

Tsunami put her hand to her chin. “You're giving me an idea for another song,” she said. “The Guy from Isekai and True Marumi.” She hummed it a bit, trying to get a feel for the song. She laughed. “I bet it would make 42 embarrassed to hear that I wrote a song about her.”

Kenichi laughed. “Yeah,” he said.

After another awkward pause, Tsunami spoke again. “If you didn't have your Marumi, would you consider someone like me?” She lowered her head and tapped her index fingers together.

Kenichi looked at Tsunami and smiled. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Tsunami's face glowed bright red. “Sure,” he said. “As long as you're not planning on killing her or anything like that, that is.” He chuckled.

She gave a nervous laugh. “Of course not,” she said. “I'm not a yandere idol.” She laughed again and waved it away.

“I thought idols couldn't date, though,” he said.

She looked over at him. “I'm having an existential crisis right now,” she said. “I can do whatever I want.”

The elevator dinged. They had reached the top floor. Tsunami stepped out, followed by Kenichi, his multi in his hand, ready for anything. “We're headed to the roof,” she said. Kenichi found an evacuation map next to the elevator. He traced his finger along the surface, finding the door to the roof.

“There,” he said, showing her the route.

She nodded. In a flash, she was dressed like a ninja, albeit, with too much hair flowing behind her. “Watch my back,” she said before sneaking through the dark halls of the vacant top floor.

They passed a large set of wooden doors with the sign CAPO DEI CAPI and under that, SHASIRA. Kenichi's heart skipped a beat when he saw that. One of the doors was open, and he peeked inside. Moonlight and the neon glow from the large plate glass windows showed him a glimpse of Shasira's office. On the wall was a similar picture as the one in Acula's office, of all those strange characters as their younger selves gathered around for a group photo. Below that was a picture of Acula with Kagira and Shasira, all three smiling. It was like the other picture on Acula's desk, but clearly taken at a different time and a different place. The rest of the room was cluttered with religious artifacts and symbols, including the large black cross with the glowing outline. The room smelled like incense.

“Come on,” whispered Tsunami. “What kind of bodyguard are you? I could have been kidnapped while you were distracted.”

“Right,” said Kenichi. He and Tsunami continued through the halls, ducking into corners to avoid cameras and the occasional drone. Finally, they made it to the roof door. It was locked.

“No problem,” Tsunami said. She removed one of her fingertips again, revealing some lock picks. She used these to unlock the door. It clicked open. “Now, it's time to get noticed,” she said.

She yanked the door open, and an alarm rang through the building.

“Come on,” she said, pulling Kenichi up the stairs to the roof.