Really, is wonderful know so many languages! It´s like if the idiom were a key, and when you learn it, you can open the door to a lot of countries!
You are worthy of admiration!
I will try too learn too!
"Final Fantasy VII Lateral Biography: TURKS - The Kids Are Alright"
- Thread starter Strangelove
- Start date
Really, is wonderful know so many languages! It´s like if the idiom were a key, and when you learn it, you can open the door to a lot of countries!
You are worthy of admiration!
I will try too learn too!
Pixel
The Pixie King
Chapter 6 - Mireille Detective Agency
Translated by Mecorx and Pixel, Proofread by CrashOuch
Kyrie and I walked at the end of the main avenue… People from the slums call it the start of the street… In other words, we were walking at the border between Edge and the slums. The atmosphere of the town changed completely here. The slums are like a huge maze. Kyrie advanced with ease through the labyrinth. I watched her feet move as if she was walking up steps, and inched after her. I liked to walk behind Kyrie. The reason, I can’t say.
“Fabio swore he wouldn’t steal anymore.”
“But if it’s for Vits, it can’t be helped. If it were me, I’d do the same—”
I wouldn’t. No. I couldn’t. Sure, I’d plan it, but at the same time, I’d find a reason not to go ahead with it. That’s what I think, anyway.
“It’s against the rules, so what are you gonna do? In reality, he’d be fired.”
“I’ll let it slide. We wouldn’t have anyone left.”
“The lifestream says…” Kyrie said suddenly. “Evan will stay here forever, because he knows this is the best place to be.”
Wouldn’t it be great if that prophecy was true?
“The Lifestream doesn’t do prophecies. There’s no such thing.”
“It would be awesome if we really could make predictions. Then we’d be filthy rich, right? Livin’ it up in Costa del Sol.”
“Nah, we’d be lynched and hung from Midgar’s pillars.”
“Scary.”
–
We— Kyrie, Lesley, Fabio and I— run a detective agency. Mireille Detective Agency. It’s got a nice ring to it. Mireille is a name we borrowed from Kyrie’s grandmother. The old lady spent her whole life as a crook. I guess it wasn’t the best name for a detective agency, but Kyrie liked it. By the way, Kyrie’s parents were skillful… not sure if that’s the right way to put it… but they were pickpockets. Before she started doing detective work, Kyrie lived a life of crime, as if it was the natural thing to do. You can imagine how we met.
Mireille Detective Agency’s main business is finding missing persons. It’s been nearly 2 years since we opened. There were many more detectives during the year after Midgar’s collapse. Seemed like half the population were our rivals. There were a lot of people with too much time on their hands, as well as a lot of people who were looking for someone or something. There aren’t many detectives these days, nor clients for that matter. It’s because the world has calmed. Most people and things are falling into place. People are finding their feet. But it’s not a complete loss. Even though demand has fallen, we still get by, thanks to some creative business practices.
‘We read the Lifestream’
That’s the slogan we use for Mireille Detective Agency. Kyrie’s use of her special ability, to access information hidden in the lifestream to find missing persons or items, is our selling point. Kyrie proposed the idea about a year ago, after 17 days without a single client. Of course, she wasn’t born with this ability. Nope, not even now. Lesley found it interesting, but Fabio and I were skeptical. Who the hell would believe that? But, surprisingly, it was right on the money. As it turns out, a lot of people believe stories that the memories and knowledge of those who leave this world merge with the lifestream. It was almost as if I was simply ignorant of the fact. In reality, there was even less than a 20% chance of us finding something we were asked to. Nevertheless, stories of our few successes spread by word of mouth, and we would have one client every 2 days. We decided to get a down-payment upfront, plus contingency fees. With the down-payments alone, we were able to make enough to support the four of us. It’s not really a scam. I mean, it is real detective work, since Kyrie gathers information for the client in good faith, and she’s pretty particular about being a good detective. Sure, the ins and outs are a bit dubious, but the results are legitimate.
Many of the requests are for people or items that went missing when the lifestream surged 2 years ago. If it were limited to Midgar and Edge, the world really isn’t that big. If a person we search for is still alive, and wants to make contact, surely they would have done so by now. In the case of an object, it has either been completely lost, or has passed through people’s hands, and will never be seen again. Two years is a long time. In other words, clients who rely on us now, are people who have half given up. Or people who intend to give up if this doesn’t work. Mireille Detective Agency is the last hope for them. That’s why we search in earnest. We sincerely weave events together into a story, based on the information we all gather, and throw in elements of the fairy-tale of the lifestream. Kyrie whole-heartedly tells that to the client. Of course, whether it’s a success or failure, the client is able to go home satisfied either way. What other job can provide comfort to people like this?
“What kinda person is today’s client?”
I called out to Kyrie ahead of me.
“Today’s client’s name is Mr. Arde. Can’t ask for too much, but I do prefer when the client is female. Men always get the wrong idea.”
It wasn’t just once or twice that male clients have made advances on Kyrie.
“Well, you are pretty attractive, Kyrie.”
As usual, I give the most neutral of favourable responses.
“Oh, well, thanks. Although, Leslie says I leave myself too open.”
One vote for Leslie.
“Well, I’m with you today. Nothin’ weird’s gonna happen.”
Here’s hoping Mr. Arde’s a wrinkly old guy.
–
The office is located in a secluded part of the slums. It was originally Kyrie’s family home. Well, I say family… by the time I had got there, only her grandmother, Mireille was left. It seemed that her parents had pick-pocketed a wallet from a bad guy, and were killed as a result. It’s a pretty gruesome story, but I believed it, since it was Mireille who told me. The old lady caught a cold, and died soon after. Kyrie was all alone. She was depressed for a while, but she remodeled the house into an office to overcome the grief. I collected building materials with Fabio and a few of Leslie’s friends, and finished it under Kyrie’s instructions.
The first thing clients see when they walk in is a big table. The top is a thing of beauty, but the legs are made out of rusty old iron rods that I found in the slums. I wrapped them with black cloth to cover them up. On top of the table were little things thought to help create the image of a woman who has the ability to ‘read the lifestream’. There was an old, moth eaten book, a cane that looked like it belonged to a magician, a round hand mirror, and a few old landscape photographs. On the back wall, there was a painting of this creepy looking spiky mountain, and some fluttery, black cloth instead of curtains. It looks like a collection of crap when it’s bright, but when we have a client visiting, we draw the curtains so it’s dimly lit, and Kyrie puts on a black hooded robe and sits down, it kinda looks other-worldly.
“I’m gonna go change.”
Kyrie goes to her room at the back, and I stayed. Seated in the three-legged chair next to the door. Before long, Kyrie comes back out to the office wearing her robe. She took off her shoes, so she was barefoot. She always has her socks off while she’s working, in principle, so that she can feel the lifestream flowing beneath her feet.
“He should be here soon. Thanks for coming.”
I nodded, taking out a notepad from my shoulder bag to take notes.
“That looks darker than before.”
Kyrie pointed her finger right at my face as she said this. There was hardly any pain, but I made a grimace. We heard the sound of someone outside the door. I stood up to welcome the visitor. The door opened, and an old man with a receding hairline entered. He must have been around seventy, I’d guess. He had pretty good posture, and was just about as tall as me. He wasn’t the feeble old man I had imagined, but I was relieved he wasn’t like the skinhead guy from the Turks. He was holding a dark yellow paper bag in his hand, and he wore an old, but tailored charcoal grey suit. He looked wealthy. We should expect a pretty good reward.
“Mr. Arde, is it?”
“I’m Tyran Arde. You are—?”
“I’m Kyrie Canaan. Please, this way, Mr. Arde.”
Kyrie directed him toward a two-seater sofa facing the table, in a soft, business-like voice.
“Oh, excuse me.”
When Mr. Arde sat down, he started to look more like a frail old man. I think it was because he lowered his shoulders and hunched his back.
“Behind you is Agent Evan. He’ll be taking notes. Don’t mind him.”
Mr. Arde turned his head to look back at me, and nodded. Agent Evan. It seemed he liked the dignified sound of that.
“Nice to meet you.”
I spoke softly. Tranquility is essential to make it feel mysterious.
“This makes me a little nervous,” said Mr. Arde.
“It’s alright. A heightened sense of anxiety calls forth the lifestream.”
It’s all a lie.
“Well then, let’s begin.”
At the request of Kyrie, Mr. Arde took something out of the chest pocket of his jacket. Probably a photograph.
“Please, look at this.”
As I thought, Mr. Arde was holding out a photo. Kyrie reached across the table and took it.
“That’s my son, Gould, in the front row, on the far right.”
Gould Arde. Gould Arde. I repeated the rhythmical name in my head.
“With the longish hair?”
“Yes. Pretty scruffy, isn’t he?”
“Not at all. So, your request is for us to find your son, then?”
“Exactly,” Mr. Arde leans forward. “Do you, er— feel anything?”
Kyrie stared at the photo, and showed her palm to stop Mr. Arde.
“Could we have some time? Maybe 10 days or so?”
“Hmmm— it can take quite a while, I see.”
“As you know, the lifestream is constantly circulating within the planet. It’ll take a little time to find a memory that leads to your son. You shouldn’t get your hopes up…”
“No, it’s ok. If that’s the case, I can wait. I don’t know anything about those on the other side, you see. Well, I’ll be honest. I don’t believe in them either.”
Well then. I was wary of this. Sometimes, we get curious window shoppers.
“Then why are you here?”
Kyrie was calm.
“I’ve tried everything I could think of. I just want to be able to settle down believing that. That’s the truth.”
“I understand, but surely you will end up believing in the power of the lifestream. After all, your son must have gone missing on that day, right? That fateful day, when the lifestream wiped out Meteor.”
Kyrie excessively emphasises the lifestream. To a person who doesn’t believe, it might be a little much.
“It was some time before. My son was a Shin-Ra army, SOLDIER, well, second class, so it’s no big deal. He contacted me to tell me he was going away on a special mission for a while… The photo was delivered later. What came after was ‘That fateful day’, as you call it. If I hadn’t stayed in Midgar, I wouldn’t have received it. I wanted to escape earlier, but I sprained my ankle… Although, thanks to that, I was still there to receive this clue to my sons whereabouts, so I thinking it’s a good omen that I had hurt my leg, I continue to search for him.”
“Where was this photograph taken?”
“Over the last 2 years, I’ve shown it to lots of people, but I still have no idea.”
Mr. Arde looked back around at me. Kyrie held out the photo to me, so I stood up and took it from across the sofa. Front row, far right. I found him right away. He was wearing a Soldier uniform. Soldier was the name given to Shin-Ra’s elite troops. Every child looked up to the Soldiers. At one point, I did too. But, it seems there were few who actually tried to become one. Maybe it was because of the weird rumour. People said that for them to acquire different abilities than ordinary people, their bodies were submerged in this special substance, or that they would spend days in tanks, soaking in the Mako energy.
“How did the photograph reach you? Around that time, the world was goin’ a bit crazy, right?” Kyrie asked. I was wondering that too, so I placed the photo on my knee, and concentrated on the back of Mr. Arde’s head.
“—There was someone who knocked on my door one night. My son isn’t the kind of guy who would knock, and most of my acquaintances had left Midgar— so being cautious, I didn’t go out.”
“I know how you felt.”
“It was pretty late, so I fell asleep. The next morning, I was concerned, so I opened the door. A man had collapsed. He was a tall guy, wearing motorcycle gear. A black liquid was flowing from his ears and mouth. I know now that it was the Geostigma, but that was the first time I had seen it. The man was shaking with terror, but he moved slightly. I thought he murmured my son’s name, so I couldn’t just leave him there. I let him in my house.”
Mr. Arde fell silent. He must have been remembering that day.
“Not long after, about 30 minutes, the man was dead. Before then, I tried several times to get information about my son, but it seemed he was already delirious. When I checked his clothing, thinking I might be able to identify him, I found 10 of the same photographs. Aside from that, there were also some personal photos. I had one regret after seeing them— there was no doubt, that guy had come to convey news about my son. Why hadn’t I opened the door right away—”
He fell silent again. If only I had done this at that time. If only I had done that. When I think of the choices I didn’t make, those are my biggest regrets in life. I’m a mass of those kinds of regrets. I completely understood Mr. Arde’s feelings as if they were my own.
“Mr. Arde, I understand your request. But looking for a member of Soldier is more difficult than usual, so it may prove to take longer than I had originally mentioned. Will that be alright?”
“I don’t mind if it takes long, but what do you mean difficult?”
“Members of Soldier are more susceptible to the lifestream’s influence. If your son’s a Soldier, then it’s highly likely that his friends were Soldiers too, don’t you think? In other words, if the people with information about your son were Soldiers, and have also died—”
As Kyrie listed the lies, and it seemed Mr. Arde had taken to them, I returned to the photo. There was an old mansion… the kind of big stone mansion that you don’t find in Midgar. 15 men and women stood in front of it. They were all around 20 years old. Well, a few were probably middle-aged. It looked like a commemorative photo of some dispatched Soldier members and the inhabitants of some village. Almost no smiles, it seemed a bit strange for a commemorative photo. The only one smiling was Gould Arde.
“Well then, I look forward to doing business with you.”
Arde got up from his seat.
“Mr. Arde!”
My voice cracked. Mr. Arde and Kyrie looked at me with surprise.
“Oh, excuse me,” said Mr. Arde, nodding his head. “Here’s the down payment.”
He handed the paper bag over to Kyrie.
“This is what my son pilfered from the company shortly after he enlisted. I realise that was a crime, but I doubt anyone’s going to complain now. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. My contact details are in the bag.”
“Wait a minute. Mr. Arde, do you know the name of the man who brought this photo?” I asked.
“Oh, look at the back of the photograph.”
When I flipped it over, a phone number and the name of a man were written on the back.
“I couldn’t get through to the number, since the phones in Midgar were cut off back then.”
“There were also personal photos, weren’t there?”
“Yes. There were lots of men and women of all ages… maybe the people in the photo were family. The same address was written on the back of all of them. It may be my imagination, but that man may have been walking around in spite of the illness, trying to reunite families…”
“Using the photographs?”
I stopped Mr. Arde and asked.
“I thought they may be useful to someone, so I put them on the bulletin board. Though that was a year ago, so they may not be there anymore…”
Mr. Arde shook his head regretfully and left.
“Wow, hey Evan! Look what Mr. Arde gave us, what do you think they are? Two materia? Does this mean we get two more if we succeed?”
“Kyrie—”
“Shops used to sell them sometimes, right? Wonder how much they went for. You should take a look.”
“Wanna go to the train station?”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, I want to check the bulletin board.”
“To find the pictures posted by Arde? They were from two years ago, right? They won’t be there anymore.”
Kyrie seemed distracted by the materia.
“Maybe.”
“Hey, don’t Soldiers fight using these? They become able to use skills like magic, depending on their training, right?”
“I’m going home.”
“Huh? Let’s go get something to eat.”
Finally, she took her eyes off the materia and looked at me.
“Yeah, this is it for me, today. I’m not feeling well.”
“You alright? Is it your eye? From being punched by the Turks?”
Kyrie looked at me with a worried expression.
“I dunno. I think I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”
I made every effort not to avert my eyes.
“Wait a minute. I’ll show you out after I change my clothes.”
Saying that, Kyrie went back to the room at the back. I left a note in the pad on the desk, saying that I would see her in Seventh Heaven tomorrow, at the usual time, then left the office.
I’m still not used to the roads in the slums. I was sure I’d get lost if I tried taking a shortcut. Despite knowing that, I figured I’d try, and sure enough, I got lost. When I arrived at the station, the hands on the clock were overlapping at the top. I ran up to the bulletin board near the house. It was one of the bulletin boards they put up all around the city. Lots of notes were pinned in a mess all over it. They ranged from ones posted pretty recently, to ones from a while ago that were now illegible due to exposure to the wind and rain. I searched for the photo Tyran Arde said he had posted. It wasn’t as if I was expecting that something from 2 years ago would still be there. But I just had to check. Of course, it wasn’t there. Though I wasn’t expecting to find it, I still felt like I had been betrayed. In a fit of anger, I kicked the struts of the bulletin board. The vibration cased one of the notes to come loose and fall to my feet. The words jumped out at me.
《Daddy, Mommy, it’s Ceddie. I’m at Aunt Liz’s house》… they were a child’s scribbled words.
I quickly tried to put it back on the bulletin board, but I couldn’t find the pin. Reluctantly, I tore off what appeared to be an advertisement flyer and put it in my pocket, and used the pin from it to put Ceddie, the stranger’s note back on the board.
Translated by Mecorx and Pixel, Proofread by CrashOuch
Kyrie and I walked at the end of the main avenue… People from the slums call it the start of the street… In other words, we were walking at the border between Edge and the slums. The atmosphere of the town changed completely here. The slums are like a huge maze. Kyrie advanced with ease through the labyrinth. I watched her feet move as if she was walking up steps, and inched after her. I liked to walk behind Kyrie. The reason, I can’t say.
“Fabio swore he wouldn’t steal anymore.”
“But if it’s for Vits, it can’t be helped. If it were me, I’d do the same—”
I wouldn’t. No. I couldn’t. Sure, I’d plan it, but at the same time, I’d find a reason not to go ahead with it. That’s what I think, anyway.
“It’s against the rules, so what are you gonna do? In reality, he’d be fired.”
“I’ll let it slide. We wouldn’t have anyone left.”
“The lifestream says…” Kyrie said suddenly. “Evan will stay here forever, because he knows this is the best place to be.”
Wouldn’t it be great if that prophecy was true?
“The Lifestream doesn’t do prophecies. There’s no such thing.”
“It would be awesome if we really could make predictions. Then we’d be filthy rich, right? Livin’ it up in Costa del Sol.”
“Nah, we’d be lynched and hung from Midgar’s pillars.”
“Scary.”
–
We— Kyrie, Lesley, Fabio and I— run a detective agency. Mireille Detective Agency. It’s got a nice ring to it. Mireille is a name we borrowed from Kyrie’s grandmother. The old lady spent her whole life as a crook. I guess it wasn’t the best name for a detective agency, but Kyrie liked it. By the way, Kyrie’s parents were skillful… not sure if that’s the right way to put it… but they were pickpockets. Before she started doing detective work, Kyrie lived a life of crime, as if it was the natural thing to do. You can imagine how we met.
Mireille Detective Agency’s main business is finding missing persons. It’s been nearly 2 years since we opened. There were many more detectives during the year after Midgar’s collapse. Seemed like half the population were our rivals. There were a lot of people with too much time on their hands, as well as a lot of people who were looking for someone or something. There aren’t many detectives these days, nor clients for that matter. It’s because the world has calmed. Most people and things are falling into place. People are finding their feet. But it’s not a complete loss. Even though demand has fallen, we still get by, thanks to some creative business practices.
‘We read the Lifestream’
That’s the slogan we use for Mireille Detective Agency. Kyrie’s use of her special ability, to access information hidden in the lifestream to find missing persons or items, is our selling point. Kyrie proposed the idea about a year ago, after 17 days without a single client. Of course, she wasn’t born with this ability. Nope, not even now. Lesley found it interesting, but Fabio and I were skeptical. Who the hell would believe that? But, surprisingly, it was right on the money. As it turns out, a lot of people believe stories that the memories and knowledge of those who leave this world merge with the lifestream. It was almost as if I was simply ignorant of the fact. In reality, there was even less than a 20% chance of us finding something we were asked to. Nevertheless, stories of our few successes spread by word of mouth, and we would have one client every 2 days. We decided to get a down-payment upfront, plus contingency fees. With the down-payments alone, we were able to make enough to support the four of us. It’s not really a scam. I mean, it is real detective work, since Kyrie gathers information for the client in good faith, and she’s pretty particular about being a good detective. Sure, the ins and outs are a bit dubious, but the results are legitimate.
Many of the requests are for people or items that went missing when the lifestream surged 2 years ago. If it were limited to Midgar and Edge, the world really isn’t that big. If a person we search for is still alive, and wants to make contact, surely they would have done so by now. In the case of an object, it has either been completely lost, or has passed through people’s hands, and will never be seen again. Two years is a long time. In other words, clients who rely on us now, are people who have half given up. Or people who intend to give up if this doesn’t work. Mireille Detective Agency is the last hope for them. That’s why we search in earnest. We sincerely weave events together into a story, based on the information we all gather, and throw in elements of the fairy-tale of the lifestream. Kyrie whole-heartedly tells that to the client. Of course, whether it’s a success or failure, the client is able to go home satisfied either way. What other job can provide comfort to people like this?
“What kinda person is today’s client?”
I called out to Kyrie ahead of me.
“Today’s client’s name is Mr. Arde. Can’t ask for too much, but I do prefer when the client is female. Men always get the wrong idea.”
It wasn’t just once or twice that male clients have made advances on Kyrie.
“Well, you are pretty attractive, Kyrie.”
As usual, I give the most neutral of favourable responses.
“Oh, well, thanks. Although, Leslie says I leave myself too open.”
One vote for Leslie.
“Well, I’m with you today. Nothin’ weird’s gonna happen.”
Here’s hoping Mr. Arde’s a wrinkly old guy.
–
The office is located in a secluded part of the slums. It was originally Kyrie’s family home. Well, I say family… by the time I had got there, only her grandmother, Mireille was left. It seemed that her parents had pick-pocketed a wallet from a bad guy, and were killed as a result. It’s a pretty gruesome story, but I believed it, since it was Mireille who told me. The old lady caught a cold, and died soon after. Kyrie was all alone. She was depressed for a while, but she remodeled the house into an office to overcome the grief. I collected building materials with Fabio and a few of Leslie’s friends, and finished it under Kyrie’s instructions.
The first thing clients see when they walk in is a big table. The top is a thing of beauty, but the legs are made out of rusty old iron rods that I found in the slums. I wrapped them with black cloth to cover them up. On top of the table were little things thought to help create the image of a woman who has the ability to ‘read the lifestream’. There was an old, moth eaten book, a cane that looked like it belonged to a magician, a round hand mirror, and a few old landscape photographs. On the back wall, there was a painting of this creepy looking spiky mountain, and some fluttery, black cloth instead of curtains. It looks like a collection of crap when it’s bright, but when we have a client visiting, we draw the curtains so it’s dimly lit, and Kyrie puts on a black hooded robe and sits down, it kinda looks other-worldly.
“I’m gonna go change.”
Kyrie goes to her room at the back, and I stayed. Seated in the three-legged chair next to the door. Before long, Kyrie comes back out to the office wearing her robe. She took off her shoes, so she was barefoot. She always has her socks off while she’s working, in principle, so that she can feel the lifestream flowing beneath her feet.
“He should be here soon. Thanks for coming.”
I nodded, taking out a notepad from my shoulder bag to take notes.
“That looks darker than before.”
Kyrie pointed her finger right at my face as she said this. There was hardly any pain, but I made a grimace. We heard the sound of someone outside the door. I stood up to welcome the visitor. The door opened, and an old man with a receding hairline entered. He must have been around seventy, I’d guess. He had pretty good posture, and was just about as tall as me. He wasn’t the feeble old man I had imagined, but I was relieved he wasn’t like the skinhead guy from the Turks. He was holding a dark yellow paper bag in his hand, and he wore an old, but tailored charcoal grey suit. He looked wealthy. We should expect a pretty good reward.
“Mr. Arde, is it?”
“I’m Tyran Arde. You are—?”
“I’m Kyrie Canaan. Please, this way, Mr. Arde.”
Kyrie directed him toward a two-seater sofa facing the table, in a soft, business-like voice.
“Oh, excuse me.”
When Mr. Arde sat down, he started to look more like a frail old man. I think it was because he lowered his shoulders and hunched his back.
“Behind you is Agent Evan. He’ll be taking notes. Don’t mind him.”
Mr. Arde turned his head to look back at me, and nodded. Agent Evan. It seemed he liked the dignified sound of that.
“Nice to meet you.”
I spoke softly. Tranquility is essential to make it feel mysterious.
“This makes me a little nervous,” said Mr. Arde.
“It’s alright. A heightened sense of anxiety calls forth the lifestream.”
It’s all a lie.
“Well then, let’s begin.”
At the request of Kyrie, Mr. Arde took something out of the chest pocket of his jacket. Probably a photograph.
“Please, look at this.”
As I thought, Mr. Arde was holding out a photo. Kyrie reached across the table and took it.
“That’s my son, Gould, in the front row, on the far right.”
Gould Arde. Gould Arde. I repeated the rhythmical name in my head.
“With the longish hair?”
“Yes. Pretty scruffy, isn’t he?”
“Not at all. So, your request is for us to find your son, then?”
“Exactly,” Mr. Arde leans forward. “Do you, er— feel anything?”
Kyrie stared at the photo, and showed her palm to stop Mr. Arde.
“Could we have some time? Maybe 10 days or so?”
“Hmmm— it can take quite a while, I see.”
“As you know, the lifestream is constantly circulating within the planet. It’ll take a little time to find a memory that leads to your son. You shouldn’t get your hopes up…”
“No, it’s ok. If that’s the case, I can wait. I don’t know anything about those on the other side, you see. Well, I’ll be honest. I don’t believe in them either.”
Well then. I was wary of this. Sometimes, we get curious window shoppers.
“Then why are you here?”
Kyrie was calm.
“I’ve tried everything I could think of. I just want to be able to settle down believing that. That’s the truth.”
“I understand, but surely you will end up believing in the power of the lifestream. After all, your son must have gone missing on that day, right? That fateful day, when the lifestream wiped out Meteor.”
Kyrie excessively emphasises the lifestream. To a person who doesn’t believe, it might be a little much.
“It was some time before. My son was a Shin-Ra army, SOLDIER, well, second class, so it’s no big deal. He contacted me to tell me he was going away on a special mission for a while… The photo was delivered later. What came after was ‘That fateful day’, as you call it. If I hadn’t stayed in Midgar, I wouldn’t have received it. I wanted to escape earlier, but I sprained my ankle… Although, thanks to that, I was still there to receive this clue to my sons whereabouts, so I thinking it’s a good omen that I had hurt my leg, I continue to search for him.”
“Where was this photograph taken?”
“Over the last 2 years, I’ve shown it to lots of people, but I still have no idea.”
Mr. Arde looked back around at me. Kyrie held out the photo to me, so I stood up and took it from across the sofa. Front row, far right. I found him right away. He was wearing a Soldier uniform. Soldier was the name given to Shin-Ra’s elite troops. Every child looked up to the Soldiers. At one point, I did too. But, it seems there were few who actually tried to become one. Maybe it was because of the weird rumour. People said that for them to acquire different abilities than ordinary people, their bodies were submerged in this special substance, or that they would spend days in tanks, soaking in the Mako energy.
“How did the photograph reach you? Around that time, the world was goin’ a bit crazy, right?” Kyrie asked. I was wondering that too, so I placed the photo on my knee, and concentrated on the back of Mr. Arde’s head.
“—There was someone who knocked on my door one night. My son isn’t the kind of guy who would knock, and most of my acquaintances had left Midgar— so being cautious, I didn’t go out.”
“I know how you felt.”
“It was pretty late, so I fell asleep. The next morning, I was concerned, so I opened the door. A man had collapsed. He was a tall guy, wearing motorcycle gear. A black liquid was flowing from his ears and mouth. I know now that it was the Geostigma, but that was the first time I had seen it. The man was shaking with terror, but he moved slightly. I thought he murmured my son’s name, so I couldn’t just leave him there. I let him in my house.”
Mr. Arde fell silent. He must have been remembering that day.
“Not long after, about 30 minutes, the man was dead. Before then, I tried several times to get information about my son, but it seemed he was already delirious. When I checked his clothing, thinking I might be able to identify him, I found 10 of the same photographs. Aside from that, there were also some personal photos. I had one regret after seeing them— there was no doubt, that guy had come to convey news about my son. Why hadn’t I opened the door right away—”
He fell silent again. If only I had done this at that time. If only I had done that. When I think of the choices I didn’t make, those are my biggest regrets in life. I’m a mass of those kinds of regrets. I completely understood Mr. Arde’s feelings as if they were my own.
“Mr. Arde, I understand your request. But looking for a member of Soldier is more difficult than usual, so it may prove to take longer than I had originally mentioned. Will that be alright?”
“I don’t mind if it takes long, but what do you mean difficult?”
“Members of Soldier are more susceptible to the lifestream’s influence. If your son’s a Soldier, then it’s highly likely that his friends were Soldiers too, don’t you think? In other words, if the people with information about your son were Soldiers, and have also died—”
As Kyrie listed the lies, and it seemed Mr. Arde had taken to them, I returned to the photo. There was an old mansion… the kind of big stone mansion that you don’t find in Midgar. 15 men and women stood in front of it. They were all around 20 years old. Well, a few were probably middle-aged. It looked like a commemorative photo of some dispatched Soldier members and the inhabitants of some village. Almost no smiles, it seemed a bit strange for a commemorative photo. The only one smiling was Gould Arde.
“Well then, I look forward to doing business with you.”
Arde got up from his seat.
“Mr. Arde!”
My voice cracked. Mr. Arde and Kyrie looked at me with surprise.
“Oh, excuse me,” said Mr. Arde, nodding his head. “Here’s the down payment.”
He handed the paper bag over to Kyrie.
“This is what my son pilfered from the company shortly after he enlisted. I realise that was a crime, but I doubt anyone’s going to complain now. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. My contact details are in the bag.”
“Wait a minute. Mr. Arde, do you know the name of the man who brought this photo?” I asked.
“Oh, look at the back of the photograph.”
When I flipped it over, a phone number and the name of a man were written on the back.
“I couldn’t get through to the number, since the phones in Midgar were cut off back then.”
“There were also personal photos, weren’t there?”
“Yes. There were lots of men and women of all ages… maybe the people in the photo were family. The same address was written on the back of all of them. It may be my imagination, but that man may have been walking around in spite of the illness, trying to reunite families…”
“Using the photographs?”
I stopped Mr. Arde and asked.
“I thought they may be useful to someone, so I put them on the bulletin board. Though that was a year ago, so they may not be there anymore…”
Mr. Arde shook his head regretfully and left.
“Wow, hey Evan! Look what Mr. Arde gave us, what do you think they are? Two materia? Does this mean we get two more if we succeed?”
“Kyrie—”
“Shops used to sell them sometimes, right? Wonder how much they went for. You should take a look.”
“Wanna go to the train station?”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, I want to check the bulletin board.”
“To find the pictures posted by Arde? They were from two years ago, right? They won’t be there anymore.”
Kyrie seemed distracted by the materia.
“Maybe.”
“Hey, don’t Soldiers fight using these? They become able to use skills like magic, depending on their training, right?”
“I’m going home.”
“Huh? Let’s go get something to eat.”
Finally, she took her eyes off the materia and looked at me.
“Yeah, this is it for me, today. I’m not feeling well.”
“You alright? Is it your eye? From being punched by the Turks?”
Kyrie looked at me with a worried expression.
“I dunno. I think I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”
I made every effort not to avert my eyes.
“Wait a minute. I’ll show you out after I change my clothes.”
Saying that, Kyrie went back to the room at the back. I left a note in the pad on the desk, saying that I would see her in Seventh Heaven tomorrow, at the usual time, then left the office.
I’m still not used to the roads in the slums. I was sure I’d get lost if I tried taking a shortcut. Despite knowing that, I figured I’d try, and sure enough, I got lost. When I arrived at the station, the hands on the clock were overlapping at the top. I ran up to the bulletin board near the house. It was one of the bulletin boards they put up all around the city. Lots of notes were pinned in a mess all over it. They ranged from ones posted pretty recently, to ones from a while ago that were now illegible due to exposure to the wind and rain. I searched for the photo Tyran Arde said he had posted. It wasn’t as if I was expecting that something from 2 years ago would still be there. But I just had to check. Of course, it wasn’t there. Though I wasn’t expecting to find it, I still felt like I had been betrayed. In a fit of anger, I kicked the struts of the bulletin board. The vibration cased one of the notes to come loose and fall to my feet. The words jumped out at me.
《Daddy, Mommy, it’s Ceddie. I’m at Aunt Liz’s house》… they were a child’s scribbled words.
I quickly tried to put it back on the bulletin board, but I couldn’t find the pin. Reluctantly, I tore off what appeared to be an advertisement flyer and put it in my pocket, and used the pin from it to put Ceddie, the stranger’s note back on the board.
[completely off topic]
Hey, I can read the katakana!
ライフストリーム
ra i fu su tu ri i mu
ファビオ
f(u) a bi o
キリエ
ki ri e
エヴァン
e v(u) a n
レズリー
re su ri i
ミレイュ
mi re i yu
エッジ
e j ji
ミッドガル
mi d do ga ru
[/off topic]
Nice job, Pixel!!
Hey, I can read the katakana!
ライフストリーム
ra i fu su tu ri i mu
ファビオ
f(u) a bi o
キリエ
ki ri e
エヴァン
e v(u) a n
レズリー
re su ri i
ミレイュ
mi re i yu
エッジ
e j ji
ミッドガル
mi d do ga ru
[/off topic]
Nice job, Pixel!!
Pixel
The Pixie King
Kanji is so difficult. I keep running into them and having to spend ages looking up the meaning. Just trying to find the right symbol is a pain. 
Got about half of chapter 6 done, but there are still things im unsure of that I'll have to go back to, like the lifestream prophesy thing. I think that might be wrong, or wrong context.
Got about half of chapter 6 done, but there are still things im unsure of that I'll have to go back to, like the lifestream prophesy thing. I think that might be wrong, or wrong context.
There was a ds 'game' my ex girlfriend had where you could draw the kanji and get the meaning. It was hugely useful when we were in Japan. I wonder if there's something similar for touchscreen phones.
- AKA
- TresDias
The Japanese word processor JWPce has a function where you click on the components of kanji from a big table and it gives you the kanji with those radicals, as well as the meanings of those kanji. The program is free and it's a lot easier to use than you might think.
Kanji is so difficult. I keep running into them and having to spend ages looking up the meaning. Just trying to find the right symbol is a pain.
Got about half of chapter 6 done, but there are still things im unsure of that I'll have to go back to, like the lifestream prophesy thing. I think that might be wrong, or wrong context.
I use denshi jisho, "kanji by radical". It was hard at first while I learnt to recognise all the different radicals, but now I'm quite fast on it.
Pixel
The Pixie King
Not sure. I got the book on ebay. Dont know if a kindle version exists in japan.
Awesome, I used denshi jisho to check some of the kanji I wasnt sure of and made changes to that first little bit of conversation. It looks alot better now.
「ファビオ、もう泥棒はしないって約束したのに」
"Fabio swore he wouldn't steal anymore."
「でも、ビッツのためだから仕方がない。あいっの立場ならおれも―」
"But if it's for Vits, it can't be helped. If it were me, I'd do the same..."
おれはしないだろう。いや、できない。計画くらいはするかもしれないが、同時に、実行しない理由もどこからか見つけ出すのだろう。そんな気がする。
I wouldn't. No. I couldn't. Sure, I'd plan it, but at the same time, I'd find a reason not to go ahead with it. That's what I think anyway.
「ルール違反だけど、どうする? 本当ならクビ」
"It's against the rules, so what are you gonna do?"
「許してやろう。誰もいなくなる」
"I'll let it slide. No-one died."
「ライフストリーム曰く―」キリエが突然言った。「エヴァンだけはずっと残る。なぜなら、彼はそれが最善の場所だと知っているから」
"The lifestream says," Kyrie said suddenly. "Evan will stay forever, because he knows its the best place to be."
その予言が本当ならどんなに楽しいだろう。
It would be great if the prophecy was true.
「ライフストリームは予言なんてしない。そんな設定はない」
"The Lifestream doesn't do prophecies. There's no such thing."
「予言も有りにすれば良かったな。そしたら大金持ちになれたと思わない? コスタ・デル・ソルで遊んで暮らせるかも」
"If I could make those predictions, don't you think we'd be filthy rich? Living it up in Costa del Sol."
「いや、リンチされてミッドガルの支柱に吊される」
"Nah, we'd be lynched and hung from Midgar's pillars."
「こわっ」
"Scary."
Pixel
The Pixie King
7. Fabio Defeated In The End
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
As Elena took off her gloves, stained with the blood from Fabio Brown’s nose, she went over to the bed where a frightened child lay, and dramatically wiped them on the green sheets. Fabio was groaning on the floor, clutching his belly. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he writhed in pain.
"Scumbag."
She had gone there with the intention of breaking his good arm... but when she saw that Fabio was trying to protect his younger brother, she changed her mind. The purpose of the visit was to teach the thief a lesson, not to deprive a child with geostigma of their guardian. She had imagined him to be a petty thief, out to make money selling the medicine, but that wasn't the case. A thief would be cunning, talking his way out of trouble, smiling the whole time, and taking a defiant attitude, or saying things in desperation. Showing the circumstances behind their actions is what cowards do.
Elena grabbed the sheet of tablets sitting on the bedside table, and was about to leave. But she changed her mind and threw them to the child.
"If you keep using them, they’ll stop working, so save them for when you feel really bad. A quarter tablet at a time is enough for a kid. Or else you’ll overdose."
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
As Elena took off her gloves, stained with the blood from Fabio Brown’s nose, she went over to the bed where a frightened child lay, and dramatically wiped them on the green sheets. Fabio was groaning on the floor, clutching his belly. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he writhed in pain.
"Scumbag."
She had gone there with the intention of breaking his good arm... but when she saw that Fabio was trying to protect his younger brother, she changed her mind. The purpose of the visit was to teach the thief a lesson, not to deprive a child with geostigma of their guardian. She had imagined him to be a petty thief, out to make money selling the medicine, but that wasn't the case. A thief would be cunning, talking his way out of trouble, smiling the whole time, and taking a defiant attitude, or saying things in desperation. Showing the circumstances behind their actions is what cowards do.
Elena grabbed the sheet of tablets sitting on the bedside table, and was about to leave. But she changed her mind and threw them to the child.
"If you keep using them, they’ll stop working, so save them for when you feel really bad. A quarter tablet at a time is enough for a kid. Or else you’ll overdose."
This is new! Elena acting like a hitman! (taking the law into their own hands)
At least this proves that all the Turks know how to give two cookies instead of one... (And for "cookies" I mean "slaps")
Is funny that the chapters based on Elena are shorts, but I like it, at least she gets some "screen time" comparing to the OTWTS novel, where they only mention her and what she do.
THANK YOU SOOO MUCH PIXEL!!! : Kiss:: Kiss:
At least this proves that all the Turks know how to give two cookies instead of one... (And for "cookies" I mean "slaps")
Is funny that the chapters based on Elena are shorts, but I like it, at least she gets some "screen time" comparing to the OTWTS novel, where they only mention her and what she do.
THANK YOU SOOO MUCH PIXEL!!! : Kiss:: Kiss:
I know I'm just restating everyone but I love how Elena has grown into herself. Hopefully it will no longer be fandom consensus to characterize her as an incompetant wimp in post AC fanfics. She is baby faced and has a high pitched voice, sometimes runs her mouth off (we'll see if she's kicked that habit by now), but she's also a real Turk.
So true. This kind of fanfic is written by people who base their entire characterisation on a couple of superficial traits. Elena is in many ways the hardest of the Turks, the female of the species being deadlier than the male and all that. Also it's my headcanon that when she was shooting her mouth off in the mythil caves, she was doing so under orders. The Turks were hoping Avalanche would save them the hassle (and danger) of hunting down Sephiroth. Later, they planedt a spy in their group to make it easier to track their movements.
Wow! I have to admit that surprise me! I always used to think of Elena like the rookie, clumsy... not for being the only girl in the group, but I like to believe that a little "innocence" in the Turks could be positive for the team hahaha
U until now, I never think of that way!Well, I guess that this attitude of her make much more sense than the other....... O.o
Pixel
The Pixie King
8. Out of Control Night
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
I put my bag away in the usual place, and hung my hat and jacket on the wall. As I took off my boots and changed into my slippers, I noticed a scratch on the toe of one of them. It must have been from when I kicked the bulletin board. Serves me right. I thought about buffing it out a little with oil, but then I decided it was too much trouble, so I just flopped onto the bed. What a day. I closed my eyes, and hoped for the sandman to come along, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I took in a deep breath, then let it out. I turned my head, and looked around the room. It looked exactly the same as when I left this morning; belongings scattered all over the place. The floor glowed faintly with the spilled paint. Right, let’s clean this up. Let's tidy everything up one by one. That's what I learned after getting out of Midgar. Don't drag things out, no matter what it is.
When I got out of bed, I checked the scattered daily necessities. There didn't seem to be anything that had to be thrown away. I returned things to their proper place as I lightly rinsed, and wiped them down. Housekeeping was something I'd done since I was a child. I remember my mother's voice praising me for being so dependable. I went to the bed and stuck my hand under the thin mattress, looking for the photo of Mom; one of the few mementos I brought from Midgar.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Evan?" As if in response to my murmur, I heard a voice from outside the door. It was Vits' voice, but it seemed faint.
"Vits? It's open."
But there was no answer. Hearing the voice of a child in the middle of the night worried me. It was a sign that something abnormal was happening. I rushed to open the door. Vits looked up at me and just collapsed. I instantly caught him in my arms.
"It hurts… it hurts, Evan."
"I know." I carried his light body, and lay him on my bed, "Where does it hurt?"
"My back..." Vits gasped.
Carefully, I rolled him onto his stomach. I cautiously touched the lesion and started rubbing. I knew that Fabio would stay up all night doing this sometimes. It had no effect, but sadly this was all we could do. Oh yeah. Where’s Fabio? He should still have medicine. Why didn’t he give it to Vits?
I told Vits I'd be right back and left the room. I peeked inside through the green door, which was left open.
"Fabio?"
Fabio was lying on the floor covered in blood. I ran out of the room, and stood motionless. I hesitated as I went to go back inside. What’s the best thing to do? I wanted to sit down on my bed. I wanted to fall asleep if possible. I wanted it all to just be a dream.
"Fabio's dead!" It was a full minute before I yelled that.
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
I put my bag away in the usual place, and hung my hat and jacket on the wall. As I took off my boots and changed into my slippers, I noticed a scratch on the toe of one of them. It must have been from when I kicked the bulletin board. Serves me right. I thought about buffing it out a little with oil, but then I decided it was too much trouble, so I just flopped onto the bed. What a day. I closed my eyes, and hoped for the sandman to come along, but there was no sign of him anywhere. I took in a deep breath, then let it out. I turned my head, and looked around the room. It looked exactly the same as when I left this morning; belongings scattered all over the place. The floor glowed faintly with the spilled paint. Right, let’s clean this up. Let's tidy everything up one by one. That's what I learned after getting out of Midgar. Don't drag things out, no matter what it is.
When I got out of bed, I checked the scattered daily necessities. There didn't seem to be anything that had to be thrown away. I returned things to their proper place as I lightly rinsed, and wiped them down. Housekeeping was something I'd done since I was a child. I remember my mother's voice praising me for being so dependable. I went to the bed and stuck my hand under the thin mattress, looking for the photo of Mom; one of the few mementos I brought from Midgar.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Evan?" As if in response to my murmur, I heard a voice from outside the door. It was Vits' voice, but it seemed faint.
"Vits? It's open."
But there was no answer. Hearing the voice of a child in the middle of the night worried me. It was a sign that something abnormal was happening. I rushed to open the door. Vits looked up at me and just collapsed. I instantly caught him in my arms.
"It hurts… it hurts, Evan."
"I know." I carried his light body, and lay him on my bed, "Where does it hurt?"
"My back..." Vits gasped.
Carefully, I rolled him onto his stomach. I cautiously touched the lesion and started rubbing. I knew that Fabio would stay up all night doing this sometimes. It had no effect, but sadly this was all we could do. Oh yeah. Where’s Fabio? He should still have medicine. Why didn’t he give it to Vits?
I told Vits I'd be right back and left the room. I peeked inside through the green door, which was left open.
"Fabio?"
Fabio was lying on the floor covered in blood. I ran out of the room, and stood motionless. I hesitated as I went to go back inside. What’s the best thing to do? I wanted to sit down on my bed. I wanted to fall asleep if possible. I wanted it all to just be a dream.
"Fabio's dead!" It was a full minute before I yelled that.
- AKA
- TresDias
I caught your problem here. That second kanji is wrong. It's supposed to be the very similar-looking 磨. So, that gives you, "I thought about rubbing a little oil on it, but it was too much trouble and I just flopped into bed."
This is correct.
You've done a great job, dude. I'm impressed.
Pixel
The Pixie King
9. Too Self-Conscious
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
I greeted the morning without a wink of sleep, and went straight to 7th Heaven. Kyrie and Leslie were standing in front of the bar. Kyrie was looking away from me. Wonder if she's angry that I disappeared without saying anything last night?
"Wow, it's a full house,” Leslie said. "There's this shop that serves coffee that way, let's go there. Well, not a shop exactly… it's just a vacant lot."
"Sure."
"And Fabio?"
"He's not coming today. He's on the brink of death."
"Huh!?" The two, who had started walking, raised their voices and turned to face me.
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you, but I need to sit down. I haven't slept. Let's get to that shop quickly."
It took a few minutes for Leslie to guide us to Johnny's Heaven. I had walked past it a few times, but this was my first time going in. It was really just a few tables arranged in a vacant lot. I didn't think it would have any decent drinks. Johnny, a man with a ducktail haircut that was pretty rare these days, introduced himself, and asked our names. What kinda shop is this? Without answering his question, Leslie ordered three coffees. Then there was silence. I thought about how I should explain what happened. Before long, Johnny started placing the coffees in front of us.
"This is just what I’ve observed… but, are my customers having a disagreement? You two guys were having a big argument over her, right? Yeah, that's it, that's what’s happening. You know, in a few years from now..."
"Time doesn't solve anything." As I interrupted Johnny, he sneered and glared at me.
“What do you mean, son?”
"New problems pop up one after another, every day. Because of that, old problems get buried deep in your heart. Of course, it’s like they’ve gone away. But, they rear their ugly heads because of something and resurface in an instant. They don’t get solved at all."
“…No need to be a smartass, pal. Oh well, do what you’d like. You’re all still young. Let’s drink coffee, have a nice little chat, and live our lives merrily with one another.”
"Johnny, I'm sorry. We have something important to discuss."
"No time for one of Johnny’s funny stories?"
Nobody answered. That must have been the most pointless question of all time. Johnny turned to Kyrie and then me, looking for help.
"… No." I reluctantly answered, and then Johnny finally went back to the counter.
"Talk, Evan."
"…Vits came to my house in the middle of the night. He said his geostigma hurt, and collapsed. I was curious what was going on with Fabio, so I went to check. I figured there was still some of the medicine left. Then, I found Fabio lying there covered in blood."
"He’s okay, right?"
"Yeah. I called the guys in the neighborhood. The Mayor, and Mr and Mrs Chico from next door. The Mayor checked Fabio out, and said that he was still alive and would be fine. Then he went to get a doctor. But that was when things got complicated. I left Fabio with Keough, and went to look for medicine."
I paused and sipped my coffee. It was bitter, and soaked into the cut on my mouth. I really couldn’t bring myself to just talk about what I did then. I wanted to leave, using the excuse that I needed to give Vits his medicine. I was afraid of being with Fabio as he teetered between life and death.
"The medicine was on the bed, but Chico was going to take it. I tried to get it back for Vits, but he resisted, and we got into a fist fight. Chico's an old geezer who does a lot of physical labour, so..."
In reality, Chico was just looking at the medicine, trying to figure out what it was. I guess I felt bad about running away from Fabio. I just wanted to leave with the medicine as quickly as possible. I grabbed the medicine from Chico’s hand without saying a word. Not only was that a bad way to go about it, but Chico was also pretty hot-headed. “Hey, punk!” he said, and then came swinging. I closed my eyes and swung back. We hit each other at the same time, but it was me who went down. As Chico got on top of me, I went on the defensive. I blocked with my arms, but I still took a few hits. Chico's wife and Keough intervened straight away. His wife apologised to me, and it was over. Keough berated me, “And you call yourself Fabio’s friend?”
"Look at this." I puffed out my swollen cheeks, from inside my mouth with my tongue, and showed Leslie.
"Hey, Evan, I’m sure you had it tough, but you told us that Fabio was on the brink of death, didn’t you? We want to know about Fabio. Vits too, of course."
"I’m getting to that..."
"I don’t know what you’re feeling guilty about, but I don't care about how many punches you took." Leslie was merciless. He saw right through me. I have to shut up.
"What condition’s Fabio in now?" Kyrie asked. Wonder if Kyrie can save me from this bottomless pit of self-loathing? No, she was just worried about Fabio. No surprise there.
"Dr. Drake came and examined him. It's not life threatening. Although, he does have bruises all over his body, and looks pretty bad. There were no broken bones, and he was already walking this morning. Albeit slowly, like an old man. After taking the medicine, Vits felt better, and slept until morning. He said there was no pain even after he woke up. The medicine had already worn off, but that’s how the geostigma pain could be, apparently."
After Chico and I were pulled apart, I continued rubbing Vits' back until leaving my house this morning. It wasn't for Vits. It was for my peace of mind. Self-protection. Atonement.
"So Fabio isn’t on the brink of death, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then don’t put it like that."
"That was my bad. I apologize."
The silence continued for a little while.
"So who did it? Who's the culprit?" Leslie started speaking in his usual manner.
"Oh, according to Fabio, it was a young woman from the Turks." I put on my usual tone, too.
"I see. So, that means it's really over this time. It’s even, as Fabio would puts it. The Turks guys who originally hit you knew they had the wrong guy, so the woman came to settle things."
"Probably."
"A female Turk… that’s scary."
"Yeah. Though Vits told me she taught him how to take the medicine. She said children only needed to take a quarter."
"I don't get it." Kyrie looked puzzled, "She said that after beating up Fabio?"
"Violence is a job for the Turks," Leslie concluded. "She understood why Fabio stole the medicine. She sympathised with Vits' pain as well. But crime couldn’t go unpunished. Good thing it wasn't that woman who came to see you yesterday, eh?" Leslie grinned and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm gonna go check up on Fabio. C’mon, Kyrie. I wanna hear how the job went."
"Yeah, sure. What about you, Evan?"
“...I’m gonna stay here a bit longer.” I didn't want to go back to Doyle village. I don’t want to see Chico and Keough yet.
"Evan, I was being too harsh earlier. Sorry 'bout that."
"Nah, you were right on point." I put on a smile. Leslie started walking, seemingly convinced.
"Wait for me at the office," Kyrie said in a hushed tone. "I was mad about yesterday, that you left while I was getting changed, but I thought you were acting strange. That’s why I wanna talk to you; is that ok?"
Without waiting for a reply, Kyrie went after Leslie. Her rider’s jacket was paired with the black miniskirt I personally thought suited her the best. I was surprised I hadn't noticed until that moment. I’m really only thinking about myself today. No, I guess it isn’t just today. For me, this was something that happened a lot. After seeing the two of them off, I sat looking down the street for a while. Johnny tried speaking to me a few times, but I continued to ignore him.
"So that’s how you’re gonna be, huh? Well, let me tell you a real good story. It's a tale about my mentor, Tifa. Tifa of Seventh Heaven. Do you know her? She was born in Nibelheim, a rural village out in the sticks, then…" Johnny pointed at the huge city of steel in a most exaggerated fashion, "she came to Midgar. Well, the slums under it anyway, not the upper plate. It was the Sector Seven slums. I headed that whole area in those days and held a bit of influence, ya see. I took care of that country bumpkin."
Johnny continued talking about himself while telling the story of Tifa. Just like I had done a short while ago. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to go.
"What, leaving already?"
"Thanks for the drink."
"Well, seeya then. And do come back again. Johnny's a friend to troubled youths."
"I'm not troubled."
"As if there are any young guys who don’t have troubles!" Johnny slapped my shoulder in an overly-familiar way. "But you're a lucky guy. That girl, she likes you."
"What would you know?"
"My gut feeling is always right. Well, except when it comes to myself." Johnny laughed as if he had just said the best a punch line ever.
The sunlight stung my eyes as I looked up at the sky. When I closed my eyes, it was painful to open them again. I had been up since yesterday morning. As the events pile up, both mind and body pay the price. I need to sleep. Rest and relaxation are important.
Translated by Mecorx, Proofread by CrashOuch
I greeted the morning without a wink of sleep, and went straight to 7th Heaven. Kyrie and Leslie were standing in front of the bar. Kyrie was looking away from me. Wonder if she's angry that I disappeared without saying anything last night?
"Wow, it's a full house,” Leslie said. "There's this shop that serves coffee that way, let's go there. Well, not a shop exactly… it's just a vacant lot."
"Sure."
"And Fabio?"
"He's not coming today. He's on the brink of death."
"Huh!?" The two, who had started walking, raised their voices and turned to face me.
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you, but I need to sit down. I haven't slept. Let's get to that shop quickly."
It took a few minutes for Leslie to guide us to Johnny's Heaven. I had walked past it a few times, but this was my first time going in. It was really just a few tables arranged in a vacant lot. I didn't think it would have any decent drinks. Johnny, a man with a ducktail haircut that was pretty rare these days, introduced himself, and asked our names. What kinda shop is this? Without answering his question, Leslie ordered three coffees. Then there was silence. I thought about how I should explain what happened. Before long, Johnny started placing the coffees in front of us.
"This is just what I’ve observed… but, are my customers having a disagreement? You two guys were having a big argument over her, right? Yeah, that's it, that's what’s happening. You know, in a few years from now..."
"Time doesn't solve anything." As I interrupted Johnny, he sneered and glared at me.
“What do you mean, son?”
"New problems pop up one after another, every day. Because of that, old problems get buried deep in your heart. Of course, it’s like they’ve gone away. But, they rear their ugly heads because of something and resurface in an instant. They don’t get solved at all."
“…No need to be a smartass, pal. Oh well, do what you’d like. You’re all still young. Let’s drink coffee, have a nice little chat, and live our lives merrily with one another.”
"Johnny, I'm sorry. We have something important to discuss."
"No time for one of Johnny’s funny stories?"
Nobody answered. That must have been the most pointless question of all time. Johnny turned to Kyrie and then me, looking for help.
"… No." I reluctantly answered, and then Johnny finally went back to the counter.
"Talk, Evan."
"…Vits came to my house in the middle of the night. He said his geostigma hurt, and collapsed. I was curious what was going on with Fabio, so I went to check. I figured there was still some of the medicine left. Then, I found Fabio lying there covered in blood."
"He’s okay, right?"
"Yeah. I called the guys in the neighborhood. The Mayor, and Mr and Mrs Chico from next door. The Mayor checked Fabio out, and said that he was still alive and would be fine. Then he went to get a doctor. But that was when things got complicated. I left Fabio with Keough, and went to look for medicine."
I paused and sipped my coffee. It was bitter, and soaked into the cut on my mouth. I really couldn’t bring myself to just talk about what I did then. I wanted to leave, using the excuse that I needed to give Vits his medicine. I was afraid of being with Fabio as he teetered between life and death.
"The medicine was on the bed, but Chico was going to take it. I tried to get it back for Vits, but he resisted, and we got into a fist fight. Chico's an old geezer who does a lot of physical labour, so..."
In reality, Chico was just looking at the medicine, trying to figure out what it was. I guess I felt bad about running away from Fabio. I just wanted to leave with the medicine as quickly as possible. I grabbed the medicine from Chico’s hand without saying a word. Not only was that a bad way to go about it, but Chico was also pretty hot-headed. “Hey, punk!” he said, and then came swinging. I closed my eyes and swung back. We hit each other at the same time, but it was me who went down. As Chico got on top of me, I went on the defensive. I blocked with my arms, but I still took a few hits. Chico's wife and Keough intervened straight away. His wife apologised to me, and it was over. Keough berated me, “And you call yourself Fabio’s friend?”
"Look at this." I puffed out my swollen cheeks, from inside my mouth with my tongue, and showed Leslie.
"Hey, Evan, I’m sure you had it tough, but you told us that Fabio was on the brink of death, didn’t you? We want to know about Fabio. Vits too, of course."
"I’m getting to that..."
"I don’t know what you’re feeling guilty about, but I don't care about how many punches you took." Leslie was merciless. He saw right through me. I have to shut up.
"What condition’s Fabio in now?" Kyrie asked. Wonder if Kyrie can save me from this bottomless pit of self-loathing? No, she was just worried about Fabio. No surprise there.
"Dr. Drake came and examined him. It's not life threatening. Although, he does have bruises all over his body, and looks pretty bad. There were no broken bones, and he was already walking this morning. Albeit slowly, like an old man. After taking the medicine, Vits felt better, and slept until morning. He said there was no pain even after he woke up. The medicine had already worn off, but that’s how the geostigma pain could be, apparently."
After Chico and I were pulled apart, I continued rubbing Vits' back until leaving my house this morning. It wasn't for Vits. It was for my peace of mind. Self-protection. Atonement.
"So Fabio isn’t on the brink of death, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then don’t put it like that."
"That was my bad. I apologize."
The silence continued for a little while.
"So who did it? Who's the culprit?" Leslie started speaking in his usual manner.
"Oh, according to Fabio, it was a young woman from the Turks." I put on my usual tone, too.
"I see. So, that means it's really over this time. It’s even, as Fabio would puts it. The Turks guys who originally hit you knew they had the wrong guy, so the woman came to settle things."
"Probably."
"A female Turk… that’s scary."
"Yeah. Though Vits told me she taught him how to take the medicine. She said children only needed to take a quarter."
"I don't get it." Kyrie looked puzzled, "She said that after beating up Fabio?"
"Violence is a job for the Turks," Leslie concluded. "She understood why Fabio stole the medicine. She sympathised with Vits' pain as well. But crime couldn’t go unpunished. Good thing it wasn't that woman who came to see you yesterday, eh?" Leslie grinned and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm gonna go check up on Fabio. C’mon, Kyrie. I wanna hear how the job went."
"Yeah, sure. What about you, Evan?"
“...I’m gonna stay here a bit longer.” I didn't want to go back to Doyle village. I don’t want to see Chico and Keough yet.
"Evan, I was being too harsh earlier. Sorry 'bout that."
"Nah, you were right on point." I put on a smile. Leslie started walking, seemingly convinced.
"Wait for me at the office," Kyrie said in a hushed tone. "I was mad about yesterday, that you left while I was getting changed, but I thought you were acting strange. That’s why I wanna talk to you; is that ok?"
Without waiting for a reply, Kyrie went after Leslie. Her rider’s jacket was paired with the black miniskirt I personally thought suited her the best. I was surprised I hadn't noticed until that moment. I’m really only thinking about myself today. No, I guess it isn’t just today. For me, this was something that happened a lot. After seeing the two of them off, I sat looking down the street for a while. Johnny tried speaking to me a few times, but I continued to ignore him.
"So that’s how you’re gonna be, huh? Well, let me tell you a real good story. It's a tale about my mentor, Tifa. Tifa of Seventh Heaven. Do you know her? She was born in Nibelheim, a rural village out in the sticks, then…" Johnny pointed at the huge city of steel in a most exaggerated fashion, "she came to Midgar. Well, the slums under it anyway, not the upper plate. It was the Sector Seven slums. I headed that whole area in those days and held a bit of influence, ya see. I took care of that country bumpkin."
Johnny continued talking about himself while telling the story of Tifa. Just like I had done a short while ago. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to go.
"What, leaving already?"
"Thanks for the drink."
"Well, seeya then. And do come back again. Johnny's a friend to troubled youths."
"I'm not troubled."
"As if there are any young guys who don’t have troubles!" Johnny slapped my shoulder in an overly-familiar way. "But you're a lucky guy. That girl, she likes you."
"What would you know?"
"My gut feeling is always right. Well, except when it comes to myself." Johnny laughed as if he had just said the best a punch line ever.
The sunlight stung my eyes as I looked up at the sky. When I closed my eyes, it was painful to open them again. I had been up since yesterday morning. As the events pile up, both mind and body pay the price. I need to sleep. Rest and relaxation are important.
God, this is great!
It makes me laugh that Evan says of Fabio "He's dying", I don´t know, Is like going to visit the doctor screaming "I have a half amputation!" and it´s just a little cut ^^U
I wish I could help you with the red parts, Pixel, but even if you think that they need an adjustment, I understand everything very well!
It makes me laugh that Evan says of Fabio "He's dying", I don´t know, Is like going to visit the doctor screaming "I have a half amputation!" and it´s just a little cut ^^U
I wish I could help you with the red parts, Pixel, but even if you think that they need an adjustment, I understand everything very well!
Pixel
The Pixie King
10. Unbreakable Bonds
When I woke up, for a moment, I didn't know where I was. I spotted a picture painted on the ceiling. It was a bad picture of the sea, the sky and a sandy beach. In fact, it was unfinished. The blue paint ran out. Or my arms got tired, and then that was the end of it. There were jet black curtains on the window. When I looked at my feet, stretched out on the bed, colourful clothes covering my boots. The ones that were piled up seemed to have fallen. On my left was a white wall. A poster of Costa Del Sol was stuck there. I look to the right. There should have been a wall-length shelf that I made with Fabio, but all of the spaces were filled with clothes, jutting out and hanging down, hiding the existence of the shelf. It was like a wall made out of piled up clothes. The owner probably didn’t know what he owned and where it was. I spotted a wicker basket on the floor when I sat up. There were also clothes thrown in it. That orange one was probably a pair of shorts. The yellow one was a three-quarter sleeve shirt. The white blouse was embroidered with flying birds. Black jeans, and a light grey one piece dress. They were all items that looked familiar.
"How about this?"
"Yeah, it suits you."
As I recalled the several conversations we had in the market, I looked around the room again. I'm inside the back room of the Mireille Detective Agency. Kyrie's room. AKA the garbage dump. It was a chaos unimaginable to the neat freak in me.
I heard the sound of the office door opening, and quickly got off the bed. There were hurried footsteps. Then, the door to this room opened quietly, and Kyrie peeked her face in.
"Hey."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
"That's good."
However, her expression showed that she didn't feel as relieved as she said.
"You carried me here, didn’t you? Thank you."
I came to the office, but I realised I forgot my key. I was at a loss, so sat down in front of the door and must have fallen asleep.
"What happened? You gave me a fright."
"Must have been because I hadn't slept for about 2 days. A lot has happened..."
"You seemed to be unconscious, not just sleeping. You didn't respond, even when I shook or hit you."
"Sorry."
"Are you really feeling better now? You’re alright, right?"
"Yeah. Like a brand new lightbulb."
Kyrie nodded emotionlessly and handed the medicine to me, then without much thought, pulled a flared satin skirt from the wall of clothes. After holding it to her waist, she threw it on the bed, then from another section, she pulled out a short black skirt with lots of decorations attached. She glanced at it for just a second, and then threw it on the bed as well. She seemed to know where everything was. What an amazing ability. Finally, she grabbed the pair of black jeans she had thrown in the basket.
"Wonder if it’s this, given the circumstances," Then, she looked at the wall again and carefully pulled out a sleeveless blouse with little blue flowers printed on it, making sure it didn't collapse. "I guess this will be too cold."
"What circumstances? Cold? Where are we going?"
"I'll explain after I get changed, get out. And do not open the office door. Ok?"
Kyrie's serious expression made me uneasy.
"Is it something bad?"
"...Maybe."
When I went to open my mouth, Kyrie glared at me as she placed a hand on the skirt she was wearing. I quickly left the room. My shoulder bag was on the sofa. Putting it over my shoulder, I sat down and waited for Kyrie.
"I'll explain," As soon as Kyrie changed her clothes, and came out, she began to speak. "You were out cold when I came back here. You wouldn’t wake up even when I called you and shook you. Do you know how scared I was? So, I dragged you into the office, but then I remembered hearing that you're not supposed to move someone who's collapsed."
"You're exaggerating."
"That’s how bad it seemed. So, I thought to call your doctor, you know, Dr. Drake."
Dr. Drake's clinic is pretty far from the slums. Really, it’s closer to Doyle Village.
"Before, Fabio said that he could be trusted. You never know whether a doctor in the slums is genuine, so I couldn't leave you with just anyone. So I ran."
It was a touching story. But I couldn’t see what was coming.
"When I ran into the square, the Turks were there."
Kyrie looked at me.
"Red hair and skinhead?"
Yup, Kyrie nodded.
“I figured they would have a phone, so I asked them to call Dr. Drake. Evan's in trouble, and it’s all because you beat him up, I said. Then, what do you think those guys said? We don't know an Evan. I got pissed off again, and told them they had beaten you up instead of Fabio. I told them to take responsibility for it.”
"Wow...."
"So, red hair, Reno's his name, takes out his phone, and calls the doctor. It wasn’t Dr. Drake but Reno said he it was a good doctor... then we came here together."
"The Turks too?"
“Yeah. Um, Evan. The Turks knew about this place. They also knew I was running a detective agency. Wonder how..."
"Maybe they investigated Fabio."
“Still, I’m surprised they knew you and Fabio were fellow detective.”
"I have a bad feeling."
"Right? I'm scared."
"So, what happened after that?”
"The doctor looked at you, said you were just in a deep sleep and to just let you lie there as long as you needed, and then left. He said it would be a waste to give you medicine."
"I'm embarrassed. But I'm alright now. But I wonder how the Turks knew about this place… I think we’d better find out. It feels wrong."
"It's not over yet."
Kyrie quietly shook her head. Then, she went to the door, opened it slightly and checked the outside.
“Look, over there."
As I approached the door she waved me over to, she squatted down. I stuck my right eye in the empty space and looked outside, as well. It was late at night. It was too dark to see anything with just the faint candlelight shining from houses. But, as I looked harder, about 30 metres away, the skinhead appeared in the darkness. I remembered the brute force of when he had me in a nelson. As if reacting to those memories, the places where Reno and Chico punched me began to burn.
"That's Rude. He’ll guide us to the car."
Kyrie said this from down below. What car?
"Didn’t I tell you? We’re going on a drive in their car. We’ll arrive by midnight, and be back by morning."
She definitely didn't tell me that before. But I wasn't gonna make an issue out of it.
"How exactly did that happen?"
This is turning into a nightmare, but I tried to stay as calm as possible.
"I was invited."
"So you said, ok?”
"Yeah."
"Kyrie", I called her away from the door. Kyrie was still looking at Rude, but closed the door, and reluctantly stood up. But she didn't attempt to look at me.
"Why?"
"I was scared."
Her voice seemed faint.
"I was scared!"
Kyrie suddenly shouted.
"At first, I was in a daze trying to save you, Evan. But when I heard you were fine, I calmed down, and thought how stupid I was. They were guys you should never rely on, no matter how much trouble you were in, yet, that’s what I did. They laugh, and seem charming, even kind, but they’re not normal people. Those were the eyes of people who always fought. Those were the hands of killers.When I think about it now…”
"Kyrie..."
“Those two slumped down on the sofa, and asked me to come with them. I thought if I didn’t agree to go, they wouldn’t leave. So I said if Evan goes, I’ll go. Then they said that was their intention from the start.”
I tried not to make any expression at all.
"Yeah, those guys, they are pretty scary."
"Yeah."
"Give me a sec. I’ll think of a way out."
"Really?"
Kyrie gave me one of her rare, helpless gazes. I was going to be tested, now.
"Leave it to me."
Where the hell were the Turks going to take us? There's no use thinking about it. There was hardly any information at all. But no matter where we go, we weren’t going to get killed. That’s how I felt. At any rate, those guys were trying to become “beloved Shin-Ra”. They wouldn’t act recklessly. Really? Let me think. I guess the most dangerous one is the woman who beat the crap out of Fabio. Next was Rude, the skinhead waiting outside. Reno, with the red hair, ought to have been about equal to me. My first impression of him was of a delinquent who had just become an adult. Those punks normally had a strong sense of camaraderie. There’s our chance. I'm sure of it.
"I wonder if Reno’s going too?"
"Yeah. They said there would be 4 of us."
Alright. Let's take a chance on Reno. Kyrie and I, if we pretend to get along with Reno, it wouldn’t be too bad. If we escape from here, that’ll be impossible. I was prepared.
"They might be thinking of killing us once they take us out of Edge"
Immediately, my resolve was shaken.
"No, they shouldn’t have any reason to kill us..."
“Think those guys know about us, right? It’s the same as that. We have no idea what they’re thinking about.”
"But..."
"I'm scared, Evan."
Kyrie’s hand covers mine.
"Yeah. Let's escape. Let's just get outta here."
I was surprised I said that. How could I say something like that?
"Evan..." Kyrie also looked me in wonder. Then, after looking at the door for a moment, she agreed to it, and stood up vigorously. She took her backpack from the ebony tabletop. A military bag made of a thick, dark yellow material. It didn’t suit Kyrie’s slender back, but she would use it when there was a lot of luggage. In other words, she was prepared. To go with the Turks? Or to Escape?
"Evan, let’s use this."
She took a round object out of the backpack, and threw it to me. I just about caught it instinctively. It was a semi-translucent ball with a little elasticity. Pale green. A color that Fabio would like.
"It's the materia I got from Mr. Arde. Indispensable to Soldier members."
They may be indispensable in Soldier, but we didn’t even know how to use them.
"Those guys would be surprised, right?"
Kyrie was holding a yellow materia. When it comes down to it, girls are stronger. I really mean it. Kyrie could probably use magic. Magic to manipulate me.
-
There was a knocking sound. It seemed like a slow, lazy knock.
"Wait, we’ll be right there"
As Kyrie called out toward the outside, she went to the corner furthest from the office door, and beckoned me. I followed her unsteadily.
"Evan, you open the door. I'll jump out. Rude will be surprised and dodge. I'll just run. Rude will chase me. You take that chance to escape. I know the slums well. I'll escape down an alley."
Kyrie’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. Surely, my eyes were playing tricks on me.
"No, let's switch places."
What kind of man wouldn’t suggest that. However, I didn’t really know the layout of the slums. I’d probably be declined. But, I still had to say it.
"Got it."
"Huh?"
"Evan, don’t worry about getting lost, just run like crazy. You’ll be able to get away."
"How long do you plan on making me wait?"
It was Rude's deep voice. Kyrie approached the door, and put her hand on the knob. It’s now or never. There’s no way out. Then she whispered…
"Evan, we’ll meet up at the south end of Edge. For our passionate hug and kiss. Alright?"
She turned the knob with the nicest smile, and opened the door. Rude who was standing with his back to the door a few steps away, turned around slowly. A big wall that stood in the way of that hug and kiss.
"Evan, you're cute."
I lowered my head and sprinted out into the wilderness of the battle.
When I woke up, for a moment, I didn't know where I was. I spotted a picture painted on the ceiling. It was a bad picture of the sea, the sky and a sandy beach. In fact, it was unfinished. The blue paint ran out. Or my arms got tired, and then that was the end of it. There were jet black curtains on the window. When I looked at my feet, stretched out on the bed, colourful clothes covering my boots. The ones that were piled up seemed to have fallen. On my left was a white wall. A poster of Costa Del Sol was stuck there. I look to the right. There should have been a wall-length shelf that I made with Fabio, but all of the spaces were filled with clothes, jutting out and hanging down, hiding the existence of the shelf. It was like a wall made out of piled up clothes. The owner probably didn’t know what he owned and where it was. I spotted a wicker basket on the floor when I sat up. There were also clothes thrown in it. That orange one was probably a pair of shorts. The yellow one was a three-quarter sleeve shirt. The white blouse was embroidered with flying birds. Black jeans, and a light grey one piece dress. They were all items that looked familiar.
"How about this?"
"Yeah, it suits you."
As I recalled the several conversations we had in the market, I looked around the room again. I'm inside the back room of the Mireille Detective Agency. Kyrie's room. AKA the garbage dump. It was a chaos unimaginable to the neat freak in me.
I heard the sound of the office door opening, and quickly got off the bed. There were hurried footsteps. Then, the door to this room opened quietly, and Kyrie peeked her face in.
"Hey."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
"That's good."
However, her expression showed that she didn't feel as relieved as she said.
"You carried me here, didn’t you? Thank you."
I came to the office, but I realised I forgot my key. I was at a loss, so sat down in front of the door and must have fallen asleep.
"What happened? You gave me a fright."
"Must have been because I hadn't slept for about 2 days. A lot has happened..."
"You seemed to be unconscious, not just sleeping. You didn't respond, even when I shook or hit you."
"Sorry."
"Are you really feeling better now? You’re alright, right?"
"Yeah. Like a brand new lightbulb."
Kyrie nodded emotionlessly and handed the medicine to me, then without much thought, pulled a flared satin skirt from the wall of clothes. After holding it to her waist, she threw it on the bed, then from another section, she pulled out a short black skirt with lots of decorations attached. She glanced at it for just a second, and then threw it on the bed as well. She seemed to know where everything was. What an amazing ability. Finally, she grabbed the pair of black jeans she had thrown in the basket.
"Wonder if it’s this, given the circumstances," Then, she looked at the wall again and carefully pulled out a sleeveless blouse with little blue flowers printed on it, making sure it didn't collapse. "I guess this will be too cold."
"What circumstances? Cold? Where are we going?"
"I'll explain after I get changed, get out. And do not open the office door. Ok?"
Kyrie's serious expression made me uneasy.
"Is it something bad?"
"...Maybe."
When I went to open my mouth, Kyrie glared at me as she placed a hand on the skirt she was wearing. I quickly left the room. My shoulder bag was on the sofa. Putting it over my shoulder, I sat down and waited for Kyrie.
"I'll explain," As soon as Kyrie changed her clothes, and came out, she began to speak. "You were out cold when I came back here. You wouldn’t wake up even when I called you and shook you. Do you know how scared I was? So, I dragged you into the office, but then I remembered hearing that you're not supposed to move someone who's collapsed."
"You're exaggerating."
"That’s how bad it seemed. So, I thought to call your doctor, you know, Dr. Drake."
Dr. Drake's clinic is pretty far from the slums. Really, it’s closer to Doyle Village.
"Before, Fabio said that he could be trusted. You never know whether a doctor in the slums is genuine, so I couldn't leave you with just anyone. So I ran."
It was a touching story. But I couldn’t see what was coming.
"When I ran into the square, the Turks were there."
Kyrie looked at me.
"Red hair and skinhead?"
Yup, Kyrie nodded.
“I figured they would have a phone, so I asked them to call Dr. Drake. Evan's in trouble, and it’s all because you beat him up, I said. Then, what do you think those guys said? We don't know an Evan. I got pissed off again, and told them they had beaten you up instead of Fabio. I told them to take responsibility for it.”
"Wow...."
"So, red hair, Reno's his name, takes out his phone, and calls the doctor. It wasn’t Dr. Drake but Reno said he it was a good doctor... then we came here together."
"The Turks too?"
“Yeah. Um, Evan. The Turks knew about this place. They also knew I was running a detective agency. Wonder how..."
"Maybe they investigated Fabio."
“Still, I’m surprised they knew you and Fabio were fellow detective.”
"I have a bad feeling."
"Right? I'm scared."
"So, what happened after that?”
"The doctor looked at you, said you were just in a deep sleep and to just let you lie there as long as you needed, and then left. He said it would be a waste to give you medicine."
"I'm embarrassed. But I'm alright now. But I wonder how the Turks knew about this place… I think we’d better find out. It feels wrong."
"It's not over yet."
Kyrie quietly shook her head. Then, she went to the door, opened it slightly and checked the outside.
“Look, over there."
As I approached the door she waved me over to, she squatted down. I stuck my right eye in the empty space and looked outside, as well. It was late at night. It was too dark to see anything with just the faint candlelight shining from houses. But, as I looked harder, about 30 metres away, the skinhead appeared in the darkness. I remembered the brute force of when he had me in a nelson. As if reacting to those memories, the places where Reno and Chico punched me began to burn.
"That's Rude. He’ll guide us to the car."
Kyrie said this from down below. What car?
"Didn’t I tell you? We’re going on a drive in their car. We’ll arrive by midnight, and be back by morning."
She definitely didn't tell me that before. But I wasn't gonna make an issue out of it.
"How exactly did that happen?"
This is turning into a nightmare, but I tried to stay as calm as possible.
"I was invited."
"So you said, ok?”
"Yeah."
"Kyrie", I called her away from the door. Kyrie was still looking at Rude, but closed the door, and reluctantly stood up. But she didn't attempt to look at me.
"Why?"
"I was scared."
Her voice seemed faint.
"I was scared!"
Kyrie suddenly shouted.
"At first, I was in a daze trying to save you, Evan. But when I heard you were fine, I calmed down, and thought how stupid I was. They were guys you should never rely on, no matter how much trouble you were in, yet, that’s what I did. They laugh, and seem charming, even kind, but they’re not normal people. Those were the eyes of people who always fought. Those were the hands of killers.When I think about it now…”
"Kyrie..."
“Those two slumped down on the sofa, and asked me to come with them. I thought if I didn’t agree to go, they wouldn’t leave. So I said if Evan goes, I’ll go. Then they said that was their intention from the start.”
I tried not to make any expression at all.
"Yeah, those guys, they are pretty scary."
"Yeah."
"Give me a sec. I’ll think of a way out."
"Really?"
Kyrie gave me one of her rare, helpless gazes. I was going to be tested, now.
"Leave it to me."
Where the hell were the Turks going to take us? There's no use thinking about it. There was hardly any information at all. But no matter where we go, we weren’t going to get killed. That’s how I felt. At any rate, those guys were trying to become “beloved Shin-Ra”. They wouldn’t act recklessly. Really? Let me think. I guess the most dangerous one is the woman who beat the crap out of Fabio. Next was Rude, the skinhead waiting outside. Reno, with the red hair, ought to have been about equal to me. My first impression of him was of a delinquent who had just become an adult. Those punks normally had a strong sense of camaraderie. There’s our chance. I'm sure of it.
"I wonder if Reno’s going too?"
"Yeah. They said there would be 4 of us."
Alright. Let's take a chance on Reno. Kyrie and I, if we pretend to get along with Reno, it wouldn’t be too bad. If we escape from here, that’ll be impossible. I was prepared.
"They might be thinking of killing us once they take us out of Edge"
Immediately, my resolve was shaken.
"No, they shouldn’t have any reason to kill us..."
“Think those guys know about us, right? It’s the same as that. We have no idea what they’re thinking about.”
"But..."
"I'm scared, Evan."
Kyrie’s hand covers mine.
"Yeah. Let's escape. Let's just get outta here."
I was surprised I said that. How could I say something like that?
"Evan..." Kyrie also looked me in wonder. Then, after looking at the door for a moment, she agreed to it, and stood up vigorously. She took her backpack from the ebony tabletop. A military bag made of a thick, dark yellow material. It didn’t suit Kyrie’s slender back, but she would use it when there was a lot of luggage. In other words, she was prepared. To go with the Turks? Or to Escape?
"Evan, let’s use this."
She took a round object out of the backpack, and threw it to me. I just about caught it instinctively. It was a semi-translucent ball with a little elasticity. Pale green. A color that Fabio would like.
"It's the materia I got from Mr. Arde. Indispensable to Soldier members."
They may be indispensable in Soldier, but we didn’t even know how to use them.
"Those guys would be surprised, right?"
Kyrie was holding a yellow materia. When it comes down to it, girls are stronger. I really mean it. Kyrie could probably use magic. Magic to manipulate me.
-
There was a knocking sound. It seemed like a slow, lazy knock.
"Wait, we’ll be right there"
As Kyrie called out toward the outside, she went to the corner furthest from the office door, and beckoned me. I followed her unsteadily.
"Evan, you open the door. I'll jump out. Rude will be surprised and dodge. I'll just run. Rude will chase me. You take that chance to escape. I know the slums well. I'll escape down an alley."
Kyrie’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. Surely, my eyes were playing tricks on me.
"No, let's switch places."
What kind of man wouldn’t suggest that. However, I didn’t really know the layout of the slums. I’d probably be declined. But, I still had to say it.
"Got it."
"Huh?"
"Evan, don’t worry about getting lost, just run like crazy. You’ll be able to get away."
"How long do you plan on making me wait?"
It was Rude's deep voice. Kyrie approached the door, and put her hand on the knob. It’s now or never. There’s no way out. Then she whispered…
"Evan, we’ll meet up at the south end of Edge. For our passionate hug and kiss. Alright?"
She turned the knob with the nicest smile, and opened the door. Rude who was standing with his back to the door a few steps away, turned around slowly. A big wall that stood in the way of that hug and kiss.
"Evan, you're cute."
I lowered my head and sprinted out into the wilderness of the battle.