The Collab...

Chapter 2

by Reichan

Kuri sat in the gloom of the alley, alone. The last red glow of the setting sun fell on the boy's dirty cheek and set his tousled hair alight. Closing his eyes in an expression of fatigue no boy his age should feel, Kuri let his head fall back against the cold steel of the building behind him as the daylight died, giving way to a darkness so thick he could feel it like a blanket around his skinny body. Opening his eyes once more, Kuri blinked in the dark, letting his eyes adjust. He rose from his position on the pavement, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began to walk toward the city's center. Moments later, sharp footsteps rang out, breaking the silence as a man and woman hurriedly rounded the corner leading into the alley. In their haste, they seemed not to notice the young boy as they brushed past him, disappearing once again into the night. The boy, however, had in that moment studied the two intently, filing the information away for future use. Nothing escaped Kuri's notice- not the scars on the woman's arm, the look of hope and fear on her face, not the man's determined expression. Survival on the streets of Central District demanded that he be alert and aware at all times, and Kuri had been at it so long it came to him instinctually.

As he walked, Kuri fingered the money he had earned begging that day. It would be a help to him, to be sure, but he knew it wasn't enough. The kind of money he needed just wouldn't come that way. The boy thought back to the smoky interior of The Pit, where he had hidden himself in a corner for hours, watching, listening, a fly on the wall. A group of bounty hunters, no- "professional" hunters- had been talking about a bounty, a small one, as such things go, that had nevertheless caught Kuri's interest. Silent as the night itself he had slipped out of the bar, rolling the idea over in his mind.

That was days ago, and in the interim he had researched the hunted a bit. The guy was someone Kuri had heard of before, but never met. All the better for the task he would have to carry out. Kuri's feet took him reluctantly to the decrepit pit his target lived in. Hesitating momentarily outside the door, Kuri closed his rational mind to all that was human inside of him and went in, his hand on the knife in his pocket. He couldn't afford a gun. It all happened so fast; the brief struggle, the look of surprise and anguish on the guy's face, the blood pooling on the filthy linoleum floor. Kuri almost didn't notice the silent tears running down his own face until it was over and done and he fell to the floor sobbing, cradling his head in his hands, hating himself. In a daze Kuri stumbled toward the door and the money that was waiting for him a few blocks away. He didn't bother with the body- it wasn't likely to be found in a place like this, and the petty criminal he had slain wasn't likely to be missed.

With a heavy heart and tortured mind, bounty in his pocket, the boy headed in the direction of the Core, the glowing green monstrosity in the center of the city. As he moved ever closer to the Core, it seemed to grow larger and larger, a sinister organism that threatened to consume everything in its reach. Standing at the base of the machine, Kuri could not even see the top of it, shrouded in the mists and smog of the upper atmosphere. He felt around the smooth paneling of the Core's base, finally locating the grating of a ventilation duct, which he pried off with his hands. Kuri slipped inside the duct, feeling the cool smoothness of the metal walls against his skin as he crawled military-style through the passage. He went on blindly in the pitch darkness of the air duct until he saw a faint green glow. The light came from an opening in the bottom of the duct, where someone had removed a loose panel, revealing a small space underneath. The "someone" had in fact been Kuri's mother, who by some unknown means had discovered the space and made a home out of it. Kuri dropped down into the room, just missing the crate he used as a step to leave. In truth, Kuri's house wasn't a true room, just a forgotten empty space under the Core that now contained the junk and rags that made up his furniture. Immediately he saw his little sister Mikan, lying motionless on the bed Kuri had made for her. Every time Kuri left home he tried to forget about her, about how much he loved her and of the tragedy that had befallen her.

Mikan was everything to her brother Kuri. He had cared for her since her birth and his mother's death, even named her. Mikan...Kuri had seen the name on one of the billboards that hung off buildings and over roads, although he no longer remembered what product had been advertised. She too was a child of the streets, although she always kept a cheerful and inquisitive disposition in spite of it. So fearful was Kuri of somehow losing Mikan that he never let her out of his sight, except once, but that had been enough. Mikan wandered off one day and was missing for three hours. When her brother again found her she was lying still in an alleyway, angry bruises covering her small, bloodied body. She had most likely been caught off guard by a speeding car, although Kuri never found out for sure. Kuri had carried her broken body home to the room under the Core, arranged her comfortably on a pile of rags, and sat by her side, waiting for the shallow breathing to cease and feeling utterly helpless in a grief too deep for tears.

But Mikan hadn't died then, although she hadn't recovered either. She was being kept alive by the pulse of energy that ran through the room under the Core, and when Kuri put his hand to her he could feel the rhythmic current, the Ether that flowed through her body and lent energy to her dwindling life force. She was connected in this way to the tons of metal machinery above.

Lately Mikan had gotten worse, and the pulse Kuri had felt all his life in the walls and air of his home had gotten noticeably weaker. Kuri knew his sister needed medical attention desperately, but he lacked the money to pay for it- doctors didn't work for free in Central District. So he had begged, and now killed, for money, although he was still far from his goal. Kuri needed the money now more than ever, had to help Mikan before the current of Ether ceased to run and the spark of her life winked out like a flame starved for air.

But Kuri could do no more tonight, and so he sat gazing at his sister, watching the feeble rise and fall of her chest in the green light of the cramped room.