Someone had taken a jackhammer to his skull; Rinkaku Harigane had never before suffered such an awful headache. The light of the day seared his eyes, and he screwed them shut. The building nausea didn’t help, either. Only now, feeling around with his hands, that he found an answer as to why all of his joints felt stiffer than wood. The back of his head fell against something hard. He had been sitting with his back against a wall for the past goodness knows how long, his head lolling down like a puppet with its strings cut. His muscles screamed in protest as he shifted from this uncomfortable position, especially the ones in his neck. Rin groaned and rolled his head around.
Only then did it occur to him that he didn’t recognise this place at all.
The alley was completely nondescript: a long corridor between two concrete towers. Looking up, Rin could see the odd window on either side peering into one another—there wasn’t much else to see. He couldn’t see the sun overhead. That, and the slight blanket of morning fog that hugged the floor told him it hadn’t yet hit midday. A glance at his watch confirmed it.
How long had he been out for?
Rin was so absorbed, he didn’t notice the Architect’s ethereal top-half floating behind him.
“You’re finally awake.”
Rin jumped.
“Good god!” He turned, pointing a threatening finger under the Architect’s chin. “Don’t scare me like that! Hang on—”
He noticed the Architect’s transparency.
“How come you’re—” He proceeded to pass his hand through the man’s immaterial chest, like any rational person would on seeing a ghost. The Architect sighed.
“Are you done?”
“I didn’t hear you apologise for scaring the life out of me.” Rin scowled.
“Are you expecting me to?”
“Would be nice…”
“Don’t be so ungrateful. I saved your life, boy. You should be thanking me.”
Memories from the previous day came rushing back: the rejects, the attack on the school, even meeting the Architect in the first place. Rin’s third eye began to ache. Clutching at his head, he then became aware of the outline of the ascension blade against his leg. Removing it, he was grateful to see it still in his sheath. It was then he noticed someone in his periphery.
“Amibari!”
The blond girl lay on her side directly across the alleyway from him, unconscious. A straight gash in her forehead was bleeding down the side of her face, the spilt blood congealing in her hair.
“Shit, she’s bleeding—”
Acting without thinking, he shed his jacket. Unsheathing the ascension blade, Rin cut at the material of his sleeve. If that wound didn’t get covered, he knew it was only a matter of time before it became infected. He bent down next to her and, lifting her head up onto his knee, wiped away the excess blood from around the area with the fabric. Stretching out the rest of it, Rin wrapped it around her head. She was still breathing. He could see her chest rise and fall. She was alive, thank goodness.
“Why did you do that?” Asked the Architect.
Rin turned and stared at him.
“I’m asking why you attended to her wounds, boy.”
“Her head wound was bleeding. That can get nasty really quickly. Oh, I wonder who it was that gave her that wound,” he asked, scratching his chin. “Oh, right! It was you!”
The Architect crossed his arms. “Are you waiting for an apology for that too? My ends justify their means. I simply did what needed to be done.”
“What needed to be done?!” Rin repeated, incredulous. He began gesturing at his ragged school uniform, covered in dirt and scratches from the conflict, not to mention the night spent sleeping in a cold alleyway. “Are you mad? I asked you to give me your power, not for you to possess my body and then stab my childhood friend in the head!”
“So ungrateful.” The Architect tutted. “Is all your generation as rude as this?”
Rin groaned and buried his head in his hands. A thousand questions were running through his mind, and it was wearing him out. Stumbling over to a raised section—the wall of a ramp leading up to a heavy metal door—Rin perched on the brickwork and bent double with his head in his hands. He looked back over at Kinuka, peacefully sleeping. She was still alive, thank goodness. She had a pulse, at the very least. Touching gingerly at his own forehead, Rin felt the slit where his third eye sat. It was closed for the time being. Kinuka had a similar wound. The Architect must’ve wanted to put Kinuka through the same process as himself. But why? Why involve someone who had nothing to do with this? Head wounds were usually fatal, but Kinuka was alive. Just what was the spirit trying to do?
“What do you intend to do now, boy?” The Architect floated over to him, the spectre of a disapproving father.
“I’m going to wait here until Amibari wakes up.”
“Why?”
“I don’t need to explain myself!” Rin snapped at the ghost. “That’s what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”
“I can’t.”
“Exactly! And so if you’re not going to explain what’s happening, shut up!”
The Architect sighed, his ghostly form fading from view. Rin folded his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. Rubbing his eyes, his vision was briefly obscured by a film of tears. Blinking, thin tear tracks leaked from the corners of his eyes. He was very glad no-one else was around to see.
Kinuka Amibari woke with a jolt. Everything about her felt ablaze: her skin, her eyes, her head most of all. That pain came from her forehead. She touched gingerly at the area, only to find it wrapped up in cloth.
How long had she been asleep for?
What was even stranger than this pain she felt, however, was that she had a dream: a dream that, even now, she could remember as clear as day. She hardly ever remembered her dreams. When she did, they were always very brief, and very bright. Flashes of colour, errant sensations all over the place. Sometimes there were voices. They were never voices she knew, nor were the voices speaking words she could understand.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
A boy’s voice rang out across the empty alleyway. Kinuka turned her head, and her eyes opened wide.
“Rin—”
As soon as the boy’s name left her mouth, parts of her dream flashed before her eyes again. Rin had looked different back then; taller, with a third eye in the middle of his forehead, a tattoo under one eye. His expression was dark and menacing.
More images flashed into her mind: images of Rin kneeling over her, pointing a knife at her forehead; three horrific monsters, their footsteps making the floor underneath them shake.
“Stay away from me!”
She couldn’t look away from Rin, her eyes fearful.
“Hey, hey, hey—” He raised both hands, as though trying to present himself as a non-threat. He began to approach, something that frightened the girl even more. “What’s got into you, Amibari?”
“What’s got into me?!” Kinuka shrieked. “What’s got into me?! You— You—”
“Not so loud—” Rin grit his teeth, motioning for her to calm down. He took another step forward.
“I said stay away from me, Rinkaku Harigane!” Kinuka yelled, loud enough to disturb a bunch of crows that had lined up on the roof nearby—watching the drama unfold. Rin stopped. The crows above him cawed noisily, flapping away to safety.
She tried to retreat further, but the backs of her feet hit the corner she had steadily been retreating into. She still couldn’t look away. The Rin she saw now was the Rin from her dream. That tattoo under his left eye was still there, that eye on his forehead was still there. That meant everything in her dream was real.
“Please.” Her voice trembled. Her knees beginning to buckle, she sank down to sit on her heels. She could feel the morning fog like a blanket. Her next words were lost between heaving sobs. “Please don’t hurt me—”
Rin said nothing. He tried to raise a hand towards her again, but soon lowered it. He took a step back, his eyes wide.
Why was she cowering like this? Her breathing was shaky and erratic. This wasn’t who she was. Looking back, she’d always been the one to stand up for others, to bring smiles to their faces. She looked out for people. Now where was she? She was hurting, she was weary, and she was cowering in fear from someone she once considered her friend.
Despite how the tears blurred her vision, out of the corner of one eye, Kinuka saw the glint of something metal. It was a knife. That has been in her dream too.
Dashing across the alleyway, she grabbed it. The blade’s carved hilt felt oddly and immediately at home in her hands. The sensation sent a surge of warmth flooding through her entire body. The adrenaline cut off the flow of her tears.
Rin hadn’t been ready for that. The girl had been crying one moment, and was now advancing on him with a killer look in her eyes. She held the knife in a reverse grip, both her fists raised. Before he knew it Kinuka had the boy pinned against the wall.
The look she gave him now, he had never seen it before. It terrified him.
“Wait!” He stuttered. “Just hold on a second!”
“You had better—” Kinuka paused for a single, shaky breath— “explain exactly what you did to me, and tell me exactly what happened yesterday!”
She drew the knife closer to Rin’s temple, and the boy flinched.
“It seems I was right after all,” the Architect spoke out from behind Kinuka, reappearing from nowhere. “She will also make a fine vessel. The girl has spirit, for certain. Her technique, on the other hand?” He scratched at his chin. “Could still use some work.”
“Hey, asshole!” Rin hissed, looking over Kinuka’s shoulder. “How about you help me?!”
“Who are you talking to?!” Kinuka pressed the knife against his temple. The blade’s edge broke the skin. A thin trickle of blood ran down the blade.
“Not important!” Rin inhaled sharply.
She looked back over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at the lack of what she saw.
“Anyway, I’ll tell you!” Rin raised both his hands in surrender. “I’ll tell you what I know!” His face was still pointing away, his dark and lidded eyes fearful.
Slowly, sceptically, Kinuka lowered the ascension blade from Rin’s face. She stepped back, exhaling sharply. Rin still stood against the wall. Nothing happened for a moment or two. Neither of them spoke. The only sound was their laboured breathing,
“Alright.” Kinuka was the first to break the silence, “Start talking.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Rin folded his arms.
She raised the knife.
Rin started like a meerkat. “Fucking hell! Are you actually trying to kill me?”
Kinuka’s patience wore thin. “If you don’t start talking, you’re about to find out.”
Rin looked aghast.
Something in her head told her to go ahead and stab him for the hell of it, but she silenced that thought. Sighing, she tossed the knife to the side. Rin’s eyes tracked it through the air until it clattered to the ground six feet away.
“There.” She held up both of her hands, neither of which now bore any sharp implements, as proof. “Now can you tell me what on earth is going on?”
Rin hesitated. He was looking at her still half with the expectation that she was going to attack him again. Kinuka, once again, began to cry. Rin didn’t know what to make of that. Reading emotions had never been one of his stronger suits. “Why’re you crying again?”
“I—” Kinuka drew a sharp breath. She sank to her knees, her lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t want to— I’m sorry—”
She sat down between her heels and began to sob into her hands.
“You really are hopeless, boy.” The Architect’s unhelpful commentary continued. He stood next to Rin, arms folded, as though he had been there the whole time. “Aren’t you going to do something?”
“Like what?!” Rin raised his hands in defeat. “What do you want me to do?! I’ve never comforted a girl before!”
“That much is obvious.”
“Go away, will you? You’re not helping!” He tried to shoo the spirit away with both hands; a futile effort. “Besides, this whole situation is your fault to begin with! Now she thinks I’m some kind of psychopath!”
“I save your life, and this is the thanks I get? Goodness me, you’re entitled.”
“Who are you talking to?” Kinuka interjected, looking up at him with puffy eyes.
Boy and spirit exchanged a look. Was it worth it to try and explain? Rin paused, before deciding against it. He waved the matter away. “Not relevant right now; you’ll meet him later.”
Confused, she didn’t raise any further objection. She watched as Rin walked over to the knife, and returned it to his schoolbag. The boy then perched in his usual curious fashion on the low wall nearby.
“You’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish, “I’ve got some explaining to do.” He paused, the events of the previous day all rushing past his mind’s eye. “I really have no clue what’s going on either. You’ll have to bear with me if this all sounds strange, which, full disclaimer, it absolutely does.”
Kinuka nodded, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“This may take a bit, so make yourself comfortable.” Rin paused, sighed, and rubbed at the corner of one eye. The story he then told sounded completely ludicrous, even to him, even though it had all just happened, just like that. The only problem lay in the fact that this was no story. This was what had just happened. This was reality.
“That’s everything, then?” Kinuka said, pretending as though she had fully understood. The sheer amount of disbelief she’d had to suspend whilst listening to his story was astronomical.
“So far.” Rin hung his head. He wanted nothing more than to just wake up from this nightmare, realise that it had been just that, and see that he still had two more hours left on the clock before he had to get up for school. Yeah. That would’ve been nice. Just two more extra hours of sleep, and he felt like all his problems would just go away.
This was reality, though. He didn’t want to accept it, but he had to.
“I don’t want to believe all of this,” Kinuka continued, staring at her hands.
“You think I do?”
Kinuka ignored him. “I thought it was all a dream. At the same time, it felt so real. Do you ever remember your dreams, Rin?”
“Dreams?” He paused. What kind of a question was that? “I guess so. Why?”
“I never do. I always wanted to know what it felt like to have a really nice dream. Turns out the first dream I remembered wasn’t a dream after all.” Her shoulders sank. Despondent. “You looked so different there,” she said, “you were taller, you had that gross eye in your head, and that shadowy look on your face. You looked so menacing. It scared me.”
“I told you,” Rin replied, “that wasn’t me! That was the Architect!”
“Who, the strange ghost of a five-thousand year-old ancient Egyptian priest that you met in your ritual attempted-lobotomy schizophrenia fever dream?” She tilted her head to one side, wearing a look of innocent confusion so genuine that it almost managed to disguise the disparaging sarcasm dripping from every word.
Rin’s expression soured even further. “Not when you put it like that,” he grumbled. Rin knew full well just how ridiculous all of this sounded. That wasn’t the point, though. “I already told you, I have no idea what the hell is going on.”
“Well, you clearly knew enough to decide that trying to murder and kidnap me was a priority.”
“Will you quit it? I said, that wasn’t me!”
“The girl doesn’t believe you,” said the Architect. He had been silently watching their exchange for some time, as though amused by the petty squabbles of lesser beings.
“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” Rin flipped the Architect off. The man chuckled.
“Arguing with your little friend again?” Kinuka cut in.
“Shut up!”
“Just teasing.”
Rin pulled a face. Standing up, he stretched his legs a little. Kinuka giggled a little, but her face soon fell. Both were silent, now realising just how bleak the situation really was. Where were they to go from here?
Just then, his stomach grumbled.
“Did you say something?” Kinuka asked.
The boy turned red. “No.”
Whatever sentiment Rin’s stomach had, Kinuka’s seemed to agree with, letting out a complementary groan not long after. This time it was Rin’s turn to accuse. He gave her a pointed glare which said it all. Kinuka didn’t bother to deflect, instead clutching at her sides in discomfort.
“Want to get something to eat?” He suggested.
She nodded.
Rin walked off down the alley, slinging his schoolbag back over his shoulder. Kinuka, standing up, didn’t follow just yet. With every step he took, the thread tugged that much harder on her heart. She called his name. He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Was there a reason that back then,” she paused and averted her eyes. She tried to continue, but hadn’t found the right words. “Was there a reason why you stopped talking to me?”
No response.
“Did I do, or say something wrong?” She stepped forward, clutching both hands by her chest. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m really sorry, Rin, I really am!”
More silence.
That day. Rin still hadn’t forgotten. That day still wasn’t far enough away. His hands tingled; he clenched them into fists. “Let’s just get moving, okay?” He strode off towards the mouth of the alley ahead. They’d been here for too long.
Kinuka stared for a few seconds, before hurrying on after him. Did she really think she could get a straight answer out of him just like that? Kinuka wondered why she even tried. Despite everything that had just happened, this was what she wanted to know about? What was wrong with her?
The thread still ended with him, however. It always had done, after all.
The pair of them then left the alleyway, now back on the streets they knew so well; outsiders, in a city both had once called home.
XCEL 
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