Unforeign Will

My… M-My head hurts…

Ah! Sarai’s eyes opened.

The only light that shimmered amidst the room’s murk was the moon’s. It extended from the sheer glass wall, cleansing the nightmare’s remains reflected in Sarai’s pupils.

Just what the hell happened here…? Why am I shirtless??

Wait… did I?! His eyes widened as he covered his mouth.

No… I’m the victim here…

Sarai looked at Aliskra’s sleeping figure resting beside him on the white sheets.

Just who is she? Is she some Faithful agent sent to kidnap me? He cradled his jaw, attempting to recall what had happened.

I remember her eyes darkening, and then I fell asleep.

Then…

“Aaaaghh!” A throbbing pain struck his temples as visions rushed into him, the same ones from before.

I barely remember what happened afterward…

A desperate, breathy sigh escaped his constricted lungs.

It seemed like I went on a date with her. Or… was it really me? This is unsettling… He stared at Aliskra, his eyes clearly hinting at hatred—or perhaps disgust.

Centuries, millennia, beacon of hope… What the hell was she talking about?

“Umm… D-Darling…” whispered Aliskra, slightly rolling on the bed.

She also calls me “darling”…. Maybe I met her during the past weeks of memory loss.

He suddenly gasped, as if realizing one unsettling detail.

Oh fuck this…. If she wakes up, or if someone finds us, it will look as if I harassed her, although I’m the victim here.

He stood quickly, looking for his black blouse.

He picked it up, put it on, and buttoned it.

How am I supposed to get out of here? I’ve never been in a hotel… Would they question my leaving? Sarai was indeed confused, but he did not have the luxury to consider other exits.

And so, his steps formed a rhythm toward the iron door—a rhythm that stopped once Sarai’s eyes caught a glimpse of a barely visible letter envelope.

It rested on a dark oak bedside table, emitting an aura that drew Sarai to it.

Another letter… Submissively allowing his subconscious to guide him, Sarai walked toward the paper.

He reached out with his right hand and seized the envelope.

What…

What…

K-Kazu Ryuji? His gaze ran over the addresser’s name, each character he read making his heart pound harder.

It was a name he did not wish to stumble upon.

Isn’t this the man I was accused of murdering and using…? Why is… At a loss for words and even thoughts, he slit the envelope, pulled out the parchment, and simply looked at it.

He looked at it.

He stared at it.

Then, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, he fell to the ground, the paper landing slowly on his face.

I’m tired.

Drawn on the parchment was, once again, the scorpion tail symbol.

The Scorpion and Kazu Ryuji are connected? How…? And why…? Does my memory loss have something to do with my Faith? Isn’t Faith supposed to guide us humans? I mean… It saved me… The Scorpion saved me…

Is Aliskra—if that’s really her name—connected to Ryuji and the clown? Is she somehow connected to my Faith? I don’t know… I don’t know…

For an instant, he wished to die—or even disappear. The questions were a flood, and the answers were only droplets.

Once again driven by a will he doesn’t quite grasp, Sarai forces himself up, grabs the letter, and leaves the room in quick steps.

…

After stressful minutes of walking through corridors and halls that planted the shame of poverty in his senses, Sarai barely kept his composure as he stepped outside the hotel, fortunately unquestioned.

He wandered through Kita Ward, crossing streets mirrored in glassy landscapes. The moonlight was overshadowed by the street’s neon, painting a rather civil, depressive image.

Finally, a bus station. Luckily, I have some cash. Sarai patted his loose pants’ pockets, approaching the eerily empty bus stop in the distance.

I should get there and tell Mitsu-san about what happened to—

“Aaaagh!” A suppressed scream erupted from the depths of his throat, carrying a reminder into his mind.

Something… I forgot something… Sarai suddenly turned in the opposite direction and was carried by his steps.

Even he couldn’t tell whether his actions were guided by his will, but he deeply believed that there was something he had to do.

Something… Ah! The meeting with the clown… I should—wait, should I?

Yes, I remember… Piatti Aromatici restaurant. I should meet the person behind the clown there… I must… And so he began walking. Of course, he couldn’t even guess where his destination was—but was he capable of considering this ignorance of his? Absolutely not, nor was he capable of resisting the foreign will that drove him.

He was incapable of anything and simply marched like a mere doll.

Two hours ago, Kakogawa Ward—Municipal Services Building.

In the private detectives department of the building, Enji sat on an office chair, his hands clasped, elbows resting on the wooden desk.

“D-Did Hanami-san tell you the news, Tatsu?” Eiri muttered, her head lowered as she held her shoulders.

“What news?” Enji asked.

“Heh? I-I guess Hanami can be forgetful, although I told her t-to tell you.”

“What news are you talking about, Eiri-chan?” Enji’s eyes narrowed.

“L-Lilith and her infants have already reached China, and it’s said they’re considering a move t-to J-Japan,” Eiri mumbled. “I h-had to lick the shoes of two c-crews’ members that belong to ‘The Rusted Chain’ for this piece of info.”

C-Can you imagine? Y-You better treat me to dinner!” She suddenly screamed.

Lilith is coming… Gosh, this is bad news… We need to do the exchange before Japan turns into a mess. Enji’s jaw tightened as he reflected on the news.

“A-Also,” Eiri looked up, trying to recall something. “Oh, I-I remember. It’s confirmed that the situation in Europe has g-gotten a lot better, and American Faithful circles surrendered when that scary… very scary a-atheist guy showed up…” Her body began shaking even more.

Enji’s eyes went wide with wonder. “It’s confirmed? But why would they surrender when they had the lead? I can understand American Faithful organizations retreating. Nobody wants to deal with The Atheist of Dawn, but why European and Asian circles?” As the words left his mouth, his hazel eyes stared blankly at the desk.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, L-Lilith is not the only scary name paying Asia a visit. There are o-other ones. A-Also, ‘The Silent Pulse Order’ crossed to Australia by sea a few days ago.” Eiri added.

“I wonder how the government and the public are reacting to this,” Enji exhaled faintly.

“TV channels have b-been talking about some international holiday to celebrate the retreat of the Faithful.” Eiri twisted her hands and fingers together. “If I r-remember correctly, it has something to do with circuses and that kind of stuff. W-Well, most victories against the Faithful were celebrated this way.”

“It indeed is a tradition,” Enji said.

All of a sudden, breaking the flow of the conversation, a gentle musical ding echoed.

It came from the elevator, whose doors slid open, allowing the two to glimpse Malik’s clearly hurrying figure.

Malik? Why is he sweating?

Malik looked around, making sure no normal citizens were present. “Enji-san, bad news,” he said.

“After dealing with the merchant, I went with Mitsu-san to one of our hideouts so she could use her magic and keep an eye on Sarai.” He gasped.

“But she was incapable of clearly following him. There was an immense barrier of mana that forced her out of Sarai’s eye. And eventually, at some point, she couldn’t see a thing.”

Enji stood immediately. “Where is she now?” He felt his heart racing but managed to calm himself down. Talk about professionalism.

“I gave her a ride to her house. She’s taking some rest.” Malik approached in slow steps, pulled a chair beside Enji’s desk, and dropped into it.

“Any clues on Sarai’s location?” Enji asked in a serious tone.

Malik took a brief, disconcerting pause. “Let’s not act like you care about the young man,” he said, his hard tone completely shattering his usual geniality.

Enji, at a loss for words, slammed the desk. “Just tell me, damn it…” He bit his tongue.

“Mitsu knows the details. Hurry to her.” Malik didn’t even look at Enji’s concerned face.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Enji’s steps accelerated toward the elevator, his long orange hair swaying with the motion.