Chapter 18 – Never Gonna, Never Gonna

“So… the girl and her friends got away…” mused the Mysterious Unknown, drinking his cup of coffee as usual.

“Sorry, bossman. The dude, Q, got away, too.” Despite his words, Gambol did not seem very sorry. Indeed, his eyes were half-closed. It seemed as if he wasn’t even paying attention to his employer’s words. He had just returned from the abandoned warehouse, and marks from his fight with Q were evident. His clothes were tattered, there was a black spot under his eyes, a small amount of blood dyed his shoes and his hair…  his hair was fabulous.

“Ah, no matter. This Q, he does not matter in the long run. An insignificant pest. We shall be rid of him sooner or later, I suppose. If the girl was to be captured that easily, then there would be no fun in this business.” The Mysterious Unknown smiled in his mysteriously unknown way, though the dark lighting of the room kept Gambol from seeing said smile. “Besides, I’ve had my bit of fun. I truly wonder how those children will react to the small… ‘clue’ I given them…”

Gambol tilted his head to the side, mildly confused. However, this confusion was momentary – the man soon returned to his nonchalant, wearied and sleepy state.

The Mysterious Unknown continued to sip at his coffee.

— Sniperville Orphanage, Night —

“So anyway, Trisk, we want you to decode this,” said Ismaru, handing Triskellion a piece of paper with a long list of codes written on it. The piece of paper had once been known as the crumpled up piece of paper with nothing written on it, but having been smoothed out and written on, it was now a smoothed out piece of paper with a code written on it. Just as to be expected of someone of Ismaru’s caliber, the code on the paper was an exact copy of the one that had been written on the screen – Ismaru had managed to memorize it to the last symbol.

“… And why the hell should I do this for you guys?” An annoyed Triskellion took the piece of paper and glared at the two young men in front of him. “You idiots broke the bloody curfew. Why the hell do you think we have rules here in the orphanage?”

“As a great philosopher once said, rules were made for breaking, and then shoving down the throat of the motherfucker who made them,” quoted Fortenra, while Ismaru nodded at his sage advice. There was no mark of guilt or apology on his face, which served to annoy Triskellion even further.

Triskellion narrowed his eyes. “Don’t try to piss me off any further. You came in three hours, fifteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds after the curfew. Moreover, you made Vel drop the bag of groceries that I’d sent her to buy, and she had to buy them again. That means I had to take $26.43 out of my own freaking wallet, seeing as the higher-ups refuse to pay for things like that. I have to run this entire place on a limited budget, because the incompetents up there prefer to sit on piles of fucking money, and you bastards want to tell me what to do?”

“If you don’t, I’m giving Vel the address of your new girlfriend.” Ismaru smiled, holding up a card with black symbols – typically called letters and numbers – on it.

Triskellion gasped, and his face turned white. “You wouldn’t.”

Ismaru smiled. “I so would.”

“Grrr… fine! I’ll do it!” Stuck in a corner, Triskellion slammed the smoothed out piece of paper with a code written on it, turning it into a not-so-smoothed out piece of paper with a code written on it, and swiveled his chair around so that his back was turned to them. “Now go, you morons. Go go go. I’ve got shit to do. Balancing taxes, calculating expenses, planning out schedules and meetings… what the fuck did I do to deserve such a fate? Agh, this is annoying! I swear to God, I’m going to…” Triskellion rambled on and on, not realizing that Ismaru and Fortenra had walked away in the middle of his complaints.

— Room 404, Sniperville Orphanage, Night —

“So, how in hell did you get the address, Ismaru?” asked Fortenra, sitting down in his bed. Or, at least, what served as a bed in the Sniperville Orphanage. Instead of a mattress, a pillow and a blanket, there was a tattered hammock hanging from the ceiling and a small piece of cloth. Moreover, there was no light in the room, only a window from which the moonlight shone through. Then again, it did not seem to bother the two young men much. After all, they had been living in these conditions since their birth.

“Huh?” Ismaru, who had been trying to sleep, sat up, and stared at Fortenra blankly.

“You know, the address. The one that you blackmailed Trisk with.”

“Oh… that? I made that up. It was a complete bluff.” Ismaru grinned mischievously, and lay down once more.

“You are a fucking genius, dude.” With a small laugh, Fortenra lay down himself, and was soon asleep.

— Toastie Mansion, Night —

“TOOOOOAAAASSSSSTTTTTIIIIIIEEEEE!!!!! Daddy’s been worried about you~~!” With a yell that was possibly closer to a yelp, Circle Shaped Bread leapt forward and hugged his daughter tightly, tears falling from his eyes. Few people would have realized that this man, who was fawning over his daughter, was ranked as #32 among the top martial artists in the world, and the winner of the 62nd World Martial Arts Tournament. This man, with his intimidating height, flaming red hair, demonic eyes and fiery beard, was like putty in the hands of the two women in his life.

“So, how was your day, sweety?” asked one of those two women, Added-With-A-Circle-To-Make-A-Heart Shaped Toaster, her mother. In contrast to the heated appearance of her husband, Added-With-A-Circle-To-Make-A-Heart Shaped Toaster was slim, with a cool – perhaps even cold – aura around her. With long, black hair reaching down to her waist, pale skin, icy blue eyes that seemed capable of looking through a person and dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono, she seemed to be a yuki-onnna in flesh. Few people would suspect that this beautiful woman was one of the greatest assassins in the world and a master chemist.

“Eh, nothing much, mom. Just went to a funeral for my favorite actor, got kidnapped, got killed and then I killed a bitch called Rick James. You know, the usual.” Toastie shrugged. “So, anything to eat for dinner?”

“W-w-w-w-wait, what? KIDNAPPED?” In shock, Circle Shaped Bread looked at his daughter with his mouth wide open, waiting for an answer. An answer that never came.

Ignoring her father’s state of shock, Toastie flounced into the kitchen in search of food, humming to herself as she did.

“There’s food in the fridge, dear,” called Added-With-A-Circle-To-Make-A-Heart Shaped Toaster after her daughter, before turning to glance at her husband, who did not move from his position. She shook her head and sighed, before following her daughter in the kitchen, though not before giving her husband a bit of advice. “Close your mouth, dear. If you keep it like that, it’ll stick. Besides, bugs might fly in there.”

“…” Circle Shaped Bread closed his mouth, but besides that, he did not move from his position, his eyes blinking rapidly.

CRASH.

“Oh, Toastie dear, I’m sorry. I appear to have laced your rice with arsenic trioxide. But just because you’re dead doesn’t mean that you have to fall face-forward into that bowl of soup and get the nice table all dirty. I just had your father wipe it this afternoon, you know.”

SIZZLE.

“Ho, it seems as if I replaced your soup with acid. But please don’t have your face melt all over the floor. These tiles are expensive, you know.”

“…” Circle Shaped Bread still stood in place, like a statue. A bird flew into the room, perched on his head, and then flew away.

— Mysterious Mansion, Night —

“And with that, we ended our day,” concluded Aine, reading over what she had written on her diary. Satisfied, the girl smiled, and closed the book. “Well, that’s over with. Now, it’s time to go to sleep!”

— Graveyard, Night —

“…” A figure stood in front of a coffin, staring. Staring. Staring. “…”

— Behind the Abandoned Warehouse, Sometime Before Night —

“So, what now?” asked Toastie, looking to Fortenra, who was the impromptu leader of the group, for guidance.

“Well, for the time being, let’s just go back to each of our respective homes, and then meet tomorrow at school. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am fucking tired.” As if to emphasize his point, Fortenra yawned, and sighed. “We can get Trisk to decode this shit for us. He’s good at this kind of stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m for that, too. My body feels like it was dipped in a vat of acid, and then flayed until the skin fell off, and then thrown into a pile of sharp rocks. Then covered in salt water, before being set on fire.” Ismaru stretched his arms, and then let himself fall to the floor on his back. “Or we could just stay here and wait for death to take us.”

“Stop whining, bitch.” Fortenra kicked Ismaru on the side, forcing the young ninja to get up in pain. “So, we all agreed?”

“Eh, sure, why not?”

“Um… okay.”

“That hurts, fucker!”

“… Huh. Did you realize that we went through all this shit in one day? My God, it’s been one fucking long day. Feels like… this month has lasted over 8 months, you know?” Fortenra looked at his watch. “Ooh, man, is Trisk gonna be pissed off.”

Toastie began to walk, before realizing something and stopping in horror. “… Oh, shit. Did we leave Insom back at the graveyard?”

— Sniperville Orphanage, After School —

“So, Ismaru, I analyzed and decoded that thing you gave me. But I warn you, you’re not going to like it.” Triskellion turned from his computer and moved his chair to the side to allow the group a view of the computer. “You see, when decoded, it gives me a group of text and a link.”

“A… link?”

“Yes. But like I said, you’re not going to like it. So, I’ll tell you this now. Do you really want to see it?” Trisk’s face was grim, his face dark.

“… Of course.” With apprehension on his face, Ismaru nodded, speaking for the group.

“Fine.” With that, Triskellion first opened up the wall of text, allowing the group to get a look at it.

“I… I don’t understand,” admitted Aine, confused. Her confusion was mirrored by Ismaru and Toastie.

“Wait.. this couldn’t be…” Fortenra’s face was white, pale with shock and horror. “No, no no… not this. Not this!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.” With that, Triskellion clicked the link, which gave way to an Internet site, and a tune began to play.

“FUCK!” Realizing what had happened, Ismaru sword and kicked down a trash can in anger. As the tune continued, Aine and Toastie realized that the words from the site were extremely familiar.

“Never gonna give you up,
Never gonna let you down,
Never gonna run around and desert you~
Never gonna make you cry,
Never gonna say goodbye,
Never gonna tell a lie, and hurt you~!”

With infinite sadness on his face, Triskellion opened his lips. “I’m sorry… but you guys have been RickRolled.”