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[ic] i'll bring you to your birthright
Apr. 30th, 2024 04:52 amGoro has never known a Palace as intractable as this one, nor had one he cared about more. All through the day and through much of the night, in stretches of dead time that he'd once have used to scroll or plan or daydream, he pulls out his phone and he tries keywords.
At the counter in Leblanc. On the trains before they launch into their less-than-mayfly trips. In the aisle at the supermarket, as he picks out fish, or vegetables, or pads this new Leblanc's still-limited store cupboard; and back in the small kitchen as he brings it all together—though never under new Ren's owlish gaze. He stares at the Meta-Nav and dares it to defy him, and he murmurs to it with iron determination. Ren Amamiya. My Ren Amamiya. Crossroads Bar. The Velvet Room. The moon.
He hears the Nav's arrant no match found in his sleep; he dreams its perky little chime. He needs the others more than air—needs his team beside him, their rapport and their experience, their skills, their wit and their support. He needs those he depends on most of all, and instead he's left with strangers—unknown, untried strangers. To save this one he's determined to save above all others.
Buchiko's statue. All of Nagata-cho. Masayoshi Shido's office, he tries, sweeping fragments of vegetable into his soup bowl with a practiced finger. He tries every ward in Tokyo, one after the next. He looks up every orphanage in Tokyo, past and present, and he tries them one by one. He walks into the Diet like he owns the place, and walks out with a list of several residences registered to Shido; they all fail. He keeps a notebook in his pocket like he's twelve years old again; he writes down everything he tries, seeks every connection, every gap in his thinking that he needs to fill.
Lowlands, he tries, the night of the cinema trip. The world tree. Cult9 in Shinjuku. Kabukicho. Miura Beach. All of Slovenia. All of it futile. He tries individual subway stations, working from a list; he researches the sewer network and underground rivers. Damn it, he thinks, pounding a muffled fist into his pillow late at night, keywords for someone he knows this well should not be this fucking hard!
Maybe that's the problem, Ace, he can hear Morgana saying—his Morgana, the one who slept on his bed at night, not the new one he slips bowls of soup in the mornings. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do. You still need to be careful. But faced with this snarl of a problem, Goro tells imaginary Morgana that he'll be careful when he's dead.
It's late on the sixth night when he's lying on his bed, hopeless and alone, tired as hell and refusing to speak another word to the goddamned app, that the Meta-Nav chimes. Shit, Goro thinks, dragging his pillow over his face, I'm hallucinating that sound now?
But the Nav goes on to say three unprecedented little words. "Palace now available."
Goro leans slowly up on one elbow, removing the pillow from his face. He gives the screen a cautious look. "What?"
The Nav chimes again, the chime that's in his blood now, that he'll hear until he dies. "Palace now available."
Rolling suspiciously onto his side, he grabs the phone, feeling fresh determination within him. He doesn't reach for his little black book; everything he needs is at his fingertips, laid out in his mind on infinite planes, engraved in gold. "Ren Amamiya," he says. Match found. "The workshop in Ikebukuro." No match found. He swallows. "All of Shinjuku." No match found. "Shibuya Crossing. Leblanc. Crossroads. Masayoshi Shido's office. The lowlands. The world tree. The Velvet Room. Mementos...."
At the counter in Leblanc. On the trains before they launch into their less-than-mayfly trips. In the aisle at the supermarket, as he picks out fish, or vegetables, or pads this new Leblanc's still-limited store cupboard; and back in the small kitchen as he brings it all together—though never under new Ren's owlish gaze. He stares at the Meta-Nav and dares it to defy him, and he murmurs to it with iron determination. Ren Amamiya. My Ren Amamiya. Crossroads Bar. The Velvet Room. The moon.
He hears the Nav's arrant no match found in his sleep; he dreams its perky little chime. He needs the others more than air—needs his team beside him, their rapport and their experience, their skills, their wit and their support. He needs those he depends on most of all, and instead he's left with strangers—unknown, untried strangers. To save this one he's determined to save above all others.
Buchiko's statue. All of Nagata-cho. Masayoshi Shido's office, he tries, sweeping fragments of vegetable into his soup bowl with a practiced finger. He tries every ward in Tokyo, one after the next. He looks up every orphanage in Tokyo, past and present, and he tries them one by one. He walks into the Diet like he owns the place, and walks out with a list of several residences registered to Shido; they all fail. He keeps a notebook in his pocket like he's twelve years old again; he writes down everything he tries, seeks every connection, every gap in his thinking that he needs to fill.
Lowlands, he tries, the night of the cinema trip. The world tree. Cult9 in Shinjuku. Kabukicho. Miura Beach. All of Slovenia. All of it futile. He tries individual subway stations, working from a list; he researches the sewer network and underground rivers. Damn it, he thinks, pounding a muffled fist into his pillow late at night, keywords for someone he knows this well should not be this fucking hard!
Maybe that's the problem, Ace, he can hear Morgana saying—his Morgana, the one who slept on his bed at night, not the new one he slips bowls of soup in the mornings. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do. You still need to be careful. But faced with this snarl of a problem, Goro tells imaginary Morgana that he'll be careful when he's dead.
It's late on the sixth night when he's lying on his bed, hopeless and alone, tired as hell and refusing to speak another word to the goddamned app, that the Meta-Nav chimes. Shit, Goro thinks, dragging his pillow over his face, I'm hallucinating that sound now?
But the Nav goes on to say three unprecedented little words. "Palace now available."
Goro leans slowly up on one elbow, removing the pillow from his face. He gives the screen a cautious look. "What?"
The Nav chimes again, the chime that's in his blood now, that he'll hear until he dies. "Palace now available."
Rolling suspiciously onto his side, he grabs the phone, feeling fresh determination within him. He doesn't reach for his little black book; everything he needs is at his fingertips, laid out in his mind on infinite planes, engraved in gold. "Ren Amamiya," he says. Match found. "The workshop in Ikebukuro." No match found. He swallows. "All of Shinjuku." No match found. "Shibuya Crossing. Leblanc. Crossroads. Masayoshi Shido's office. The lowlands. The world tree. The Velvet Room. Mementos...."
