Chapter 8:

Red, The Blood Of Angry Men

Node-Taker 「ノードテイカー」


New Nantan Layer Two, District 15- June 27th 2233

5:00am

Ichijo left Sakura’s embrace as quietly as he could. He looked back at her sleeping face and regretted the past week, realizing he could have spent every day like this. He quickly showered, combed his hair, the tiredly slumped to the walk-in closet and chose his attire for the day. His goal would be to dress simply but effectively. Over the last week they had grown Ichijo’s library of options from two to around twenty outfits.

He worked quickly, setting aside a black pencil skirt and a white button-up shirt. He decided against the blazer as he would want to attract Haruto’s attention as much as possible were he to encounter him. Jaelynn’s plan called for a week-long infiltration but she didn’t know about Ichijo’s call with the man last night.

Things might progress faster with that little item on the docket. But Ichijo was in no hurry to move that along. Suddenly, he wanted to come home every night and sleep in the big bed with his new friend. Perhaps more than a friend if the skinship were to continue. He realized, much like his relationship with Hiroki it didn’t matter so much what they did so long as they were together. He wanted to talk with her more, to laugh and carry on and learn to cook. With that tunnel-vision guiding his thoughts, he only thought of getting into Hasha and getting out at the end of the day.

“One day at a time.” He decided, then turned to the lingerie. He knew what he wanted to wear but didn’t even want to think about what he should wear. He yearned to just keep his sports bra on the whole day. That, or the plain white supportive triangle. Neither were particularly sexy but it was entirely possible he wouldn’t even see Haruto today.

“Need some help?” Sakura had snuck in behind him. Her nightgown had slid open revealing a thin strip of skin down her front. She glanced down at the underwear with skepticism. “Yeah no.” She remarked, opening a drawer on her side. Quickly she rifled through the contents until she landed on a black lacy thing that seemed to have more holes in it than a strainer.

The cups had massive gaps under and over the erroneous zones where bands of flowers and lace held the piece together. The wings and underband were thin rows of lacy vines. The color was black but turned a burnt red just around the centre gore. A crimson red bow between both cups set the whole thing off. This was sexy underwear that wasn’t necessarily designed for function. It seemed like it could support Kaiya’s bust but he wasn’t sure he wanted it on him. The Ichijo part of his brain still had some lingering sense of masculine pride and it put a halt to his decision-making progress.

“You need Haruto to look at you? This is the ticket.” She tossed the garment onto his head.

“Yeah, but will it fit?”

“Try it, it was a bit too small for me.” Sakura adjusted her robe, cutting off Ichijo’s fun a bit. He sighed.

Ichijo removed the sports bra and began sliding his arms into the device. Sakura walked behind him and helped him with the hook and eye. It was more comfortable than it looked. But it was drafty. Thankfully, he most likely wouldn’t be showing it off.

“Looks great!” Sakura said, gesturing to the closet’s mirror. Much like the party dress before, he couldn’t exactly disagree. “Knock ‘em dead!” Sakura said, smacking his shoulder playfully before leaving him alone to choose the rest.

He assembled the rest of the outfit he’d picked out, ignoring the bra’s lacy cousin for something more comfortable below. No one was likely to see that anyways. As he buttoned up the shirt, he realized why Sakura had given him the item. It wasn’t obvious, but there was a slight shadow of black beneath the finely tailored shirt.

He decided he would take the blazer after all.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hasha building, New Kyoto- June 27th 2233

7:42AM

The blazer did not help. During his commute, which had to be handled without Joseph, he was ogled by more horny businessmen than he could keep track of. At Sakura’s insistence he had worn a pair of 50 denier black tights. That could have been the sexual tipping point. He couldn’t be sure, because he spent most of his time trying to keep the blazer buttoned up to cover his embarrassing secret.

He reached the building before he was due for orientation. The Hasha Nail, as it was known by the locals, was a 700-meter spire of metal and glass that flared out slightly at the top rather than the bottom. The mass of steel dwarfed its peers and made a bold statement in the skyline. Though it had been built nearly 100 years ago at this point, its unique design decisions meant it still looked modern and unlike anything being built.

Ordinarily, there was a Hasha line that ran directly beneath the structure itself. But that was for tenured employees. Newbies had to make their way into the building on foot like him. He passed through security, they verified his identity through a chip swipe and he was directed to a conference room by a well-dressed woman in a red coat.

So far he’d found that Hasha had been less of a den of wolves than public transit. But he was open to be proven wrong when work properly started. He took a seat in the large conference room surrounded by women who dwarfed him in panache. All were brunette and most were Japanese but perhaps that was simply the way of things at Hasha.

Another young woman in a red coat strutted in and informed them that orientation would begin momentarily. This was the first step and he’d passed it. After 45 minutes of waiting someone would come by to split the group and each would be shown around the building in shifts. That would be the second test. One group was being eliminated but no one would know until the “orientation” finished and they were given their badges. Once the second half swiped out for the day their badge would change color indicating that they had not been selected for employment. As harsh as it seemed it was better than how most companies handled such things.

Scarcely ten minutes later, the red woman sheepishly returned. She looked around the room and, spying Ichijo, quickly marched over and whispered in his ear. “Could you come with me, please, miss?”

“Sure.” He stood up, drawing eyes from around the room and followed the red woman out. He felt his temperature rise. After all this prep was he about to be the sole person of his group escorted out?

Outside the room he was introduced to a young man wearing a similar red coat and pants. He bowed low.

“Miss Arakawa, I presume? One of our board members has elected to give you a personal tour of Hasha, would you come this way?” He gestured towards the elevators.

“Gladly.” Ichijo replied, trying his best to sound confident.

He followed the man into the metal sarcophagus, he pressed a button for one of the lower levels and the elevator sank. Fight or flight response began kicking in. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a part of the plan as he’d been told it. He examined the bellhop, no ports of any kind that he could see.

“Are you unaugmented?” He asked, his tact leaving him.

“Of course.” The young man replied. “All those that work Hasha front desk are un-enhanced. Just a part of Hasha’s dedication to diversity and inclusion.”

Security and redundancy more like. He couldn’t fry his brain. If he wanted to escape this man he’d have to overpower him physically and he wasn’t confident. Not in this body at least. He sat in silence as the elevator reached the last floor and opened with a ding.

Beyond the doors was a lavish red carpet leading to a pair of glass doors. He walked through the well-lit hallway to where two more men stood at the end. They opened the doors, gesturing beyond. A small security checkpoint with a single ID scan stood between him and a well-lit tunnel that contained a single black limousine.

“If you please.” The young man indicated the ID scanner and Ichijo swiped his fresh blue badge. It didn’t change color.

“So I’m not fired?” He asked.

“No ma’am,” the young man confirmed, opening the door to the limousine. “We hope you enjoy your stay with us.” He said as Ichijo stepped inside coming face to face with Haruto Minazuki.

He wore a white double-breasted suit with brown shoes and a grey shirt. The first few buttons of which had been left lazily undone. His hair had been styled to the side slightly messy and he wore a pair of red low-light glasses that made him look like he was on vacation.

“How did you like the grand tour?” He asked sarcastically.

“Oh! So good! I loved the view from the top of the nail. You should really see it sometime.” Ichijo responded hoping to keep the jocular vibe active. He was disappointed when the prince lowered his glasses and remarked:

“My father is the only one who knows that view. The rest of us have to pretend the second floor from the top is the peak. That’s how he keeps us in our place.”

Oh, Clarise was definitely right. It was a daddy issue thing. Ichijo felt his loins tighten a bit. Was he aroused? By that? As he puzzled over that notion the young prince slid over and placed a hand gingerly around the small of his back.

“I think I could show you a better view if you’re interested.” Well, he hadn’t put in much effort, but he had him nailed to a board already.

“What did you have in mind?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in New Tokyo- June 27th 2233

11:05AM

Haruto remained a gentleman throughout their car ride. He’d confirmed a few questions that Ichijo had asked him, though their conversation became more general than personal as time rolled by. All the while Ichijo was aware of the young mogul’s eyes devouring him.

The hunger showed clearly on his face. But he showed restraint, confining himself to light touching here and there. The most he did in their conversation was place his full hand on Ichijo’s knee. Though he could tell the man was yearning for more.

Ichijo tried to maintain perspective with regards to the plan. Jaelynn had outlined a number of activities he was supposed to complete. Some intelligence and tests he needed to perform from the inside of Hasha. But with him being out of the office now those were becoming less likely as possibilities. Then there was the slight buzz he felt. Unlike when Jaelynn spoke with him, around Haruto his mind felt like it was in a slight fog.

He couldn’t tell if it was interference from some kind of device or if he was just genuinely nervous. As the limousine pulled into its destination Ichijo felt lightheaded and absently rubbed his temples.

“Feeling a bit out of it?” his companion asked.

“Yeah, I haven’t drunk anything though.”

“I know exactly what it is. I’ll explain once we reach the penthouse.” The two exited the limo onto the façade of a luxurious building that pierced the sky nearly as high as the nail. The building seemed to have asymmetrical chunks taken out of it, that was because each apartment had a large balcony. Hanging from each were vines and the branches of trees that reached outward from the building towards the sky. Hanging gardens.

Haruto offered his arm and led Ichijo inside. He exchanged pleasantries with an old man that manned the front desk then guided Ichijo into the elevator and took it all the way up to the top.

“Here. Time for your smoke break.” He said, handing Ichijo a single cigarette. The two lit up just as the elevator arrived at the top floor and opened on a massive closed off-room. The walls were thick concrete, only sparsely adorned with artwork. The floor beyond the genkan was plush carpet in a deep red.

The young mogul stepped off the elevator, kicked off his shoes and pressed a button in the stone wall. A panel slid out with several hooks on it. He reached beneath his collar and produced a copper-colored device that had been hung around his shoulders with two buttons on either side. He pressed one and instantly Ichijo’s brain-fog cleared up. Haruto gave him a big smile.

“Sorry. A security measure of mine. It emits several frequencies of waves that cancel out just about anything incoming. I like my privacy and I like to keep it even while I’m out.”

“That explains a lot.” Ichijo replied, feeling a tad shaky at the revelation. He waited and listened, hearing nothing but feedback.

“There’s another thing as well.” Haruto expressed, seeming proud of himself. He was already unbuttoning his jacket and shirt as he continued. “This apartment is the world’s largest faraday cage. No outside signals in or out. A little oasis from the connected world.” He touted.

Ichijo removed his blazer, hanging it on one of the stone hooks to his right. “Okay, I’m impressed. But why?”

“I thought you already knew, Kaiya. We don’t like people messing with our heads, do we?” He stepped close and hung his coat next to Ichijo’s.

Kaiya stepped out of her shoes, passed the handsome man and strutted down the carpet. She felt the plush softness between her toes and released a sigh. In control for the first time in a while, she savored the feeling.

“And by people, you mean those closest to you?” She asked, thinking back to the conversation with Clarisse.

“You could say that. Back when I lived under my father’s influence there were a lot of things that affected me.”

“Hm. So someone did augment you against your will?”

“That rumor still floating around?” He slid his hand around her waist, pulling her close.

“Fact or fiction?” She teased.

“Fact. At least, technically. Anything the mind is exposed to is a potential contaminate. If you are inundated with information you don’t choose you may as well have a scalpel taken to your brain, am I wrong?”

“In a literal sense, definitely.” She slid out from his grasp and skipped down the hallway. A common room opened up ahead with a wider ceiling and lower floor. The walls remained closed off, no windows, no light. The room was laid out western-style with a spread of leatherette couches surrounding a massive television. A library of physical media lined the walls at either end of the room. In a corner, between the entry hall and the next was a small terminal with a seat.
“So what’s that, then?” The girl teased, pointing out an obvious hole in his philosophy.

“That terminal is a closed system. No net access, just a place to work on myself and backup anything I deem necessary.” He unbuttoned more of his shirt, his chest practically flashing her as he approached more aggressively.

Kaiya retreated, trying to think of something witty as the air turned serious. “You sure that doesn’t go against your philosophy-?” She tripped over one off the couches landing on the cushions. Haruto leapt onto the couch around her and straddled her body, placing his face close to hers.

“Every oasis needs water.” He breathed then wrapped his lips around hers then drank deeply.

The conversation cut off, and the two began to writhe on the couch. He pressed her down, her arms her chest, her face. Burying her in his advances as he pushed her buttons. She reached up and pushed back lightly, but not too much. She needed this to continue at least for a while. He grew more passionate, his kisses coming harder and faster as they clung to one another on the couch. He unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the black seductive lace and began to work his fingers around that next.

She pulled herself close to him, hugging his waist, she put both palms together and pulled the male net plug from her left wrist. She worked her hands up his back as he worked his way down, unbuttoning her shirt to the base and slipping a hand beneath her skirt to a different erroneous zone.

She slotted the cable into his net port and kissed him passionately. He fell limp and she struggled to flip him over onto the couch. Kaiya faded back into the subconscious and Joben Gima fed Haruto Minazuki what he wanted to see but it took all of his concentration not to break the image while he performed various tasks in the background.

He dragged the man upright, with difficulty, pulling off his clothing in pieces as he made his way towards the bedroom. It was easier to find now that he was copying Haruto’s memories into a cordoned off space on his own solid-brain. But finding that while maintaining the illusion was almost impossible.

Through gritted teeth, and a lot of long pauses, he made his way to the room and managed to plant the man on the bed in a manner that lined up with the fakery he was feeding him.

Ichijo sat on the bed while Joben Gima downloaded Haruto Minazuki’s brain and tried not to think of victory. He was still in Haruto’s apartment, practically stranded, and he still had to somehow make it back to Organization HQ unscathed which would be trouble enough.

Joben took the better part of three hours to download the contents of Haruto’s solid state and compress it so that it would not contaminate the rest of their memories. There were already enough personalities floating around Kaiya’s head as it was.

Once the transfer was complete and he’d sufficiently lied to Haruto’s brain he sent the command for “deep sleep” followed by a few short commands for “short rest”. Since he didn’t find anything in the man’s data that suggested he took deep shutdown phases he tried his best to give him enough static that by the time he realized what was up he would already be gone.

With that, Ichijo adjusted the bra, buttoned up his shirt and headed to the elevator.

The button flashed but the elevator didn’t come. He noticed on the elevator call button a thumbprint scanner. No way out without Haruto. He rejected the idea of dragging the man out of bed and searched for an emergency exit. Surely someone this paranoid would have a staircase somewhere?

He checked every corner of the Genkan, the walls in the entryway, then the walls in the living room. No seams, no secret buttons. He circled back to the bedroom, Haruto was still asleep. Ichijo tip-toed to the man’s bedside and fussed with the knickknacks. He had a globe containing a clock, a statue of atlas holding up the world, and a small pen in its holder. None were a secret switch.

He sat on the bed feeling defeated until he thought of one last place. He circled the apartment, finally finding a stone door that led somewhere other than an interior. The garden. Each apartment had one. This garden had a small path bisecting a collection of cacti, shrubs and desert plants. At the end there was a small metal panel separate from the rest of the walkway.

“Bingo!” He kicked the panel and it gave way, revealing a small fire escape-style staircase that led to the garden two levels down. He dismounted the ladder then walked into the new apartment like he belonged there. A man and his wife were too busy in their living room to notice him walk around the bend and press the button to call their elevator.

He took the elevator down, finally breathing a sigh of relief once he’d made it to the lobby. The old man behind the counter perked up.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, his bushy white moustache flaring as he spoke.

“I’ve got something to attend to, please give the young master my regards! I’d love to visit again!” He said, hastening his steps through the lobby. The man stepped out behind his counter and halted him.

“Ma’am, let me call you a ride. I’m sure Mr. Minazuki would be delighted to provide you transport.” He touched his ear then began speaking orders. Meanwhile the elevator was called up behind them. Time to go.

“I’m sorry, I really do need to get going, I’ll call a cab.”

The old man grabbed him by the wrist as he attempted to leave the premises.

“Madam! I must insist! Transportation to a third layer such as this must be handled delicately!”

“Third layer?” The wind howled into the lobby as the double doors hissed open automatically. “Where are we exactly?”

“New Nagoya, madame? Were you not informed at where you were being driven?” He asked, a bit taken aback.

The elevator bell dinged and the two glanced back. Haruto Minazuki stumbled out, bruised, ragged, tired. He lifted a weak finger and pointed. “Security…” he managed. “She tried to kill me.” He slumped over, too exhausted to move.

The old man dropped Ichijo’s wrist in shock. Ichijo took off his high heels, picked them up, and ran as fast as he could away from the apartment. He sprinted through the courtyard and down the road as fast as he could. His pantyhose tore as he pushed his tired lungs as hard as they could move air in and out. Behind him he heard a commotion but didn’t stop. He ran down a mostly empty road suspended in the sky where only a few buildings had been built as of yet. Security guards would be able to see him clearly and the road continued ahead for at least a mile before it started to taper off towards the lower levels.

He felt a tingle on the top of his head. “Status report?” Jaelynn asked.

“Need extraction, need extraction now!” Ichijo screamed. “I’m in New Nagoya, layer three, being pursued. I have the target data, repeat, have target data on hand!

“Nagoya? That’s too far away for us, why didn’t you communicate?”

“He approached me, had a jamming device blocking any outgoing waves. House was a faraday cage.” He gasped, stopping to grasp his knees as loud footprints approached behind him. “Please, need extraction. Need support. Being pursued…”

He wandered along the road, to his left the steep barrier flared out from the highway, a long wing of concrete extending upwards to cradle cars towards the road in case of accidents. He heard the footsteps getting closer, heard calls for him to stop. He climbed onto the barrier and walked up. Below, grown men in stun batons stood back, holding their hands up trying to bargain with him.

“Need extraction, need…” He panted, unable to catch up.

“I’m sorry, Kaiya.” The disembodied voice whispered sweetly. “I did like you. But I can’t risk any of this getting back to the organization. You understand?”

A loud pop burst his eardrums. He saw half of his lacy bra fly off into the crowd of security guards alongside a spray of blood and flesh. Another pop, he felt his left arm go limp as another spray of blood littered the concrete. He had enough time to recognize that Jaelynn had made good on her promise before he fell backwards over the barrier to fall between three layers of tiered city.