Due to various terrain and mechanical issues with our inconveniently lousy mode of transportation, it took us nearly twenty-four hours to reach Aobasani, and simply saying that we were all utterly exhausted would be an understatement. Sure, we had the cheap food the train provided, but that wasn't really enough to fuel us properly.
Aobasani was a tremendously bustling city, as Jeremy had previously told us, and everywhere we turned, more people would be there to cross our path.
"Lucy Brooks..." I whispered to myself, suddenly remembering the reason we came to this busy city in the first place. So Reiha was her guardian, huh? I wonder what kind of girl she's like.
"Hey. Twinkle-toes."
Jeremy's urgent voice brought me back to earth as I noticed we had stopped in front of a small building. "Huh~?" I made a noise of confusion, glancing up at a sign that read 'Little Brooks Coffeehouse'. "Is this where Lucy works or something?"
"Sort of," said Jeremy half-heartedly, pushing open the door and triggering a bell to chime.
We were immediately greeted by a bright woman at the counter, looking about in her early 30's. She had short brown hair and a pair of round blue eyes. Just behind the cash register I noticed she was wearing a red and green apron with the coffeehouse's name on it. "Hello, there!" She said in a cheerful tone. "May I have the privilege of serving you all today?"
The four of us walked up to the counter, Jeremy in front, and he took the liberty of ordering for us. "Could I have four small mocha lattes please? And I'll have those in here, not to go, thank you."
The woman smiled delightedly at Jeremy. "Coming right up." She spun around and walked over to the coffee machine, quickly grabbing four small plastic cups and, one by one, filling them to the brim with a sweet smelling liquid, then adding some whipped cream to each. After carefully attaching the lids and placing all four lattes in a cardboard carrier, she brought our drinks over to the counter. "That'll be $8.24," she told us.
Much to my surprise, Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. I never would've suspected that he even had money. He handed the woman the money for our lattes and thanked her as he picked up the drinks and began walking towards an empty booth. Most of them were empty, actually. The only people in the coffeehouse at the time were a couple of teenagers tapping away at their laptops or phones, and one elderly man seated alone, staring out the window. Once we arrived at our booth, Jeremy slid down the seat until he reached the window, and Niall sat awkwardly beside him. Morgan and I took a seat across from them. As soon as we all were sipping away silently at our coffees, an uncomfortable silence settling in the atmosphere, I decided to speak up.
"So why the heck are we at this place anyway?"
"Because I was suddenly craving one of Mrs. Brooks's delicious chocolate lattes," Jeremy replied, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.
"...was that woman Lucy?"
"No, that was her mother."
"I see...so when will we be able to see Lucy?"
"Why are you so eager?"
"I'm just curious, that's all." I shrugged.
Jeremy ceased talking for a few minutes, and for a time I thought that he was simply ignoring me. I watched as he quietly began to stir his drink with the tip of his mechanical hand, his chin resting on his other hand, and his eyes gazing thoughtfully out the window. I let out a deep sigh and raised my cup to my mouth, taking yet another careful sip. The latte was very sweet. It had a thick, chocolatey flavor that blended well with a touch of vanilla and the whipped cream that now floated in a thin layer at the surface. Morgan obnoxiously slurped his entire drink in less than 2 minutes, and it just occurred to me how that must have scalded his throat. Clueless Morgan probably didn't think that one through.
"That was insanely good," he breathed, wiping away a few drops that remained on his lips. "My throat kinda hurts, though."
Idiot.
"So what are we doing after we leave this place?" Morgan asked. "Something about a girl named Lucy, right?"
"Visiting hours are short, so we'll have to find a way to occupy ourselves until 3:00 p.m.," Niall said with no explanation. And yet somehow, as I should have known, Jeremy knew what he was referring to.
"Yeah. You're right. And I don't think any of you guys want to stay in a coffeehouse for 2 and a half hours."
Morgan and I glanced at each other, perplexed expressions on our faces. "So....what does that mean...?" I asked hesitantly.
"It means, brats, that you have two and a half hours to do whatever that heck you teenagers do these days, but with some terms and conditions," Jeremy said strictly, pushing aside his latte and holding up fingers to count off. "Firstly, you have to stay in Aobasani. No going beyond the borders by yourselves. Secondly, don't get yourself killed. You in particular, Twinkle-toes. Aobasani is a busy and dangerous place, so watch you step, understand? Lastly, meet back here at the coffeehouse at around 3:00 p.m.. A little earlier wouldn't hurt, but no later. Or I swear I will leave your sorry butts behind. Or...at least Carrot-top's."
Morgan's face was too lit with excitement to take offense to Jeremy's somewhat harsh words. He slapped his hand on my shoulder and, without taking his eyes off Jeremy, whispered, "Anything...?"
"Yeah, just stay outta trouble. I'll even give ya a couple bucks to waste at the dollar store if ya want." He blinked once before slowly leaning over to Niall and saying, "Does Aobasani have a dollar store?"
"It's bound too," Niall replied nonchalantly.
"Cool." With that being said, Jeremy grabbed his wallet and took out, not paper money, but a credit card, and slid it across the table to Morgan and I. "There ya go. Knock yourselves out."
At this point, Morgan and I were more likely to have been mistaken as 10-year-olds receiving a puppy on their birthday...rather than 16-year-olds gaining access to a credit card. Our eyes were opened as wide as they could be, staring in utter disbelief at what had been offered to us. It truly shocked me: not only did Jeremy have a wallet with legitimate money in it, but he also had a credit card, and was now entrusting us with it.
"Jeremy, are you okay?"
"HE'S PERFECTLY FINE!!" Morgan blurted—a little too loudly—as he snatched the card off the table and shoved it in his jacket pocket. "Perfectly fine..."
"I am fine," Jeremy scowled, but this was directed at me. "That credit card's counterfeit anyways. Full-proof. Won't make any errors. Won't get you arrested. Promise."
Figures. "Jeremy!" I hissed, most likely resembling a disappointed mother scolding her child. "Counterfeit credit card? Really?!" Instead of backing me up, Morgan added the most ridiculous comment.
"How come you didn't use it on that barista lady?"
"Because I would never cheat someone as kind as Mrs. Brooks," Jeremy stated proudly. "She is a very sweet and innocent woman, and money is the last thing she needs taken away from her."
"What do you mean by that...?"
".....never mind....." Jeremy turned away his head. "Just...just go already. And don't be late meeting back here, alright?"
"We promise!!" cried Morgan, seizing my wrist and vigorously rushing out of the coffeehouse.
My poor latte was sadly left behind...
+++
I was at a coffeehouse just a moment ago, and now suddenly here I am, standing somewhere in the middle of a bookstore...a really big bookstore. Morgan's nowhere to be found, and I feel like a young child who lost his mother in a grocery store. How did I end up here in the first place? Hmmm...ok, let's recap:
1. Morgan forcibly dragged me out of the coffeehouse we were in.
2. Despite the fact he had no idea where he was going, Morgan used his pro tracking skills to locate the nearest shopping center—one about 4 blocks down called "Century Mall."
3. Morgan completely ignored my guilty conscience and used Jeremy's fake credit card to buy us both McDonalds.
4. Morgan then took us to get our nails done.
Okay, I lied about that last one. But he did almost 'accidentally' run into a women's-only clothing store.
5. Morgan released his inner child at the arcade he dragged me into, challenging some 11-year-old to an overly competitive game of pac-man.
6. Finally, Morgan claimed he wanted to go to a bookstore to search for the next book in a new series he had become obsessed with, called "Nearing the Final Hour."
7. Clearly showing no interest in Morgan's obsession, I accidentally separated from him in search of nothing in particular.
And here I was. Standing alone in an empty aisle. I glanced up at the sign that hung over the wide, rectangular shelf to my right. It read, "Ancient Mythology." I shrugged and began casually skimming over each book title and cover in search of something that appealed to me visually. Growing up believing in demons and all that crazy stuff, I guess you could say I was pretty into mythology. It only took a moment for me to find a certain golden-lettered book that whose title and appearance caught my eye.
"Stories of the Midnight Legion..." I gasped silently as I carefully picked the book from its place on the top shelf. My mouth fell open in surprise at how coincidental this occurrence had been, and also because it certainly peaked my interest. "How peculiar..." My fingers gently brushed the smooth, black leather covering. I couldn't help but admire the artwork. There was a tablet of some sort on the front, and on that tablet were 12 scratches of writing. They were too tiny for me to read, but something told me they were names.
Beside the tablet was a small man, his arm reaching out desperately in an attempt to cover up one half of the top left name. A young boy sat at his side, clutching his legs tightly, appearing too afraid to lift his eyes. On the right side of the tablet was a cloud of darkness, and in the cloud were 11 pairs of red eyes, glaring at the man blocking the name. It was very strange, but as I stared at the young boy shielding his face, I felt a sudden pain in my chest; however, I chose to ignore it, and instead lifted the cover up to view the title page.
"Stories of the Midnight Legion..." I read aloud again. "Written by Vitri S. Daniels, using gathered bits information from several previous authors over time. Published in the year 2014. I wonder if there's anything in here I'm not supposed to know...eh. I don't really care. Cyborg's not here to scold me." With that thought in mind, I turned to the first page—after skipping the chapter title page, etc. I cleared my throat and began to read.
"Chapter 1: The Prince of Death. A long, long, long time ago, a very unique child was born. Created from the dusts of the earth by none other than Death himself, this child possessed strength like no other demon. Death cared for the child dearly, despite his reputation of being a heartless beast of Hell. However, once his creation was discovered by Satan, he was ordered to hand it over. Death refused, and was immediately despised by Satan. In order to retrieve the demon child and claim its power for his own, Satan brought together his strongest demons and gave them the title, 'The Midnight Legion'."
"Much of this sounds strangely familiar..." I whispered to myself. "Very familiar. But...who is Death exactly? This child's keeper? Wait a second..." I mentally face-palmed myself at my ignorance. "I almost forgot. I'm that child, aren't I? The Shadow Keeper..." I heaved an exasperated sigh as I quickly skimmed over the rest of the page. "Funny...it doesn't say anything about me being called the Shadow Keeper...maybe it isn't me...?" I ran my thumb across the edge of the pages, searching randomly for another sign. I stopped flipping rather abruptly when I discovered a note in one of the pages near the middle of the book. It was a wrinkled piece of yellow parchment. I carefully picked it up and read the message that was written on the back.
"Dear Hanako, if you are reading this, then everything I had planned went accordingly. Please take this book and leave this place immediately. You will find out everything you desire to know on these pages. Sincerely, your father."
The book slipped out of my hand, and I was left to stare dumbfounded at the note I held in my trembling hand. I mentally screamed at myself all the questions that had so suddenly began piling up in my head.
H-how is this possible? How would my father have anything to do with the Midnight Legion? How did he know I would be here? How?! Why has he remained in hiding for all these years? Away from me, away from Aki, away from Mom? How could he? And why turn up now? What exactly is in this book?!!
"Sir, could you please keep your voice down. You are disturbing other customers."
Okay, so I may have accidentally said those things out loud. I blinked twice and slowly craned my neck to look at the woman who had spoken to me. "I-I'm sorry Miss. I'll be quiet."
She let out a gentle sigh before walking away. And the split second she was out of sight, I returned my eyes to the note. "I can't let this get to me...it could be fake after all..." I tried convincing myself, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. "No...this is real...there's no way someone else other than Dad could be this clever. And besides, shouldn't I be happy he's finally trying to contact me? Or should that worry me more..." I crushed the note in my hand and shoved it into my pocket, mixed emotions threatening to give me a headache. I bent over and picked up the golden lettered book, proceeding to stare at it for a solid minute before finally making my decision. "I'm taking this book with me...but that means I'm going to need to find Morgan first..."
"Yo! Hanako!"
Speak of the devil...
"Hanako, what are you doing looking all distressed like that?" Before I knew it, my carrot-topped friend was standing by my side, observing my expression skeptically. "What's the matter?" His face lit up at the sight of the book I was so aggressively clutching against my chest. "Ooh...did you find something you wanted to buy?" He slipped out Jeremy's fake credit card from his jacket pocket and held it out to me like a business ID. "My card is your card."
I narrowed my eyes at the small object in his hand, arguing with myself what would be the right thing to do in this situation. Obviously, using the fake credit card would be the morally incorrect choice. But on the other hand, I needed to purchase this book.
"Morgan, what time is it?"
Morgan pressed his lips together and hummed to himself, reaching into his jacket once again to take out his phone.
"It's 2:51."
Crap. I don't have much time. "I'll take it."
"What is it?" Morgan stood on his tippy-toes and tried to get a peak at the book.
"It's nothing," I blurted, turning my back to him. "It's just some Greek mythology...thing. Come on. We gotta hurry, or Jeremy will be pissed."
+++
It was 3:01 p.m., and Morgan and I had arrived at Little Brooks Coffeehouse, only to find a very irritated Jeremy waiting for us, with a very depressed looking Niall. Although, recently that had been normal for the demon.
"Hey, guys..." I said, avoiding the angry cyborg's gaze.
"Hanako."
"Yes?"
"Do you know what time it is?"
Is he serious about this? "I believe it is 3:01, maybe 3:02 by now."
"And when did I tell you to meet up with us?"
"3:00."
"That's right." He took two large steps toward me and seized me by my collar, raising me about an inch off the ground. "I nearly had a heart attack when you didn't arrive on time, you brat. You could've died."
"Aww, thanks, Jeremy," I remarked, offering a cocky smile. "I love you too."
He released his grip on me and furiously spun around. "Whatever. Come on. We need to get going."
"Where are we going?" Morgan piped up, obnoxiously curious as always. "We're gonna see Lucy now, right?"
"We're going to the local hospital. We'll find her there."