"Ibuki, make sure to ask Kyle if he has time for me to come over later."
"I don't know about that, Sina. Last I saw Phil he was getting dragged to Sabine's office, and it seemed like he wasn't coming back. I wanted to knock on the door, but Sinne was already in the hallway. I doubt he's coming back when the sun sets."
I looked up from my phone.
"Boys…" I groaned.
Those two are always up to no good.
"Did they ever leave you hanging?" A voice echoed inside my head.
"You're not helping either," I said out loud.
"You can always knock at the door and see if this Kitten is there; you both can wait for him to come home. Be sure to make it quick if you need anything else , Frequenze. Silence is going to get enforced the moment the Pilot deems we are ready for take-off."
I looked up from my phone again; at least Ibuki had gone out of his way to help me. It sure would have been nice to see Kyle and spend some time with him. He might be out for the rest of the night.
My eyes began to wander as the sun gently bathed me in its warm afterglow until it finally set behind the skyscrapers.
"I know it's futile, but I would just…like to spend another sunset not alone. If we're not sitting next to each other… aren't we lonely?"
I stretched my arm out to make room for my oversized jacket, and I reached for the lower inner pocket where I kept my set of throwing knives. Next to me sat a petite young woman in gold-blond hair and feline green eyes.
"Kitten?" I asked, more as an assumption than a question.
She tilted her head with a shine in her eyes.
"Kitten, right? Why are you outside?"
"kyle tells me to keep going out… to remind myself what i'm meant to fight for," she said; her voice barely rose above a whisper.
I leaned in closer and closer until we came eye to eye. My palms and the back of my hair tingled, my breathing hitched, and I began to sweat. She had the same eyes as Gilbert. I slowly backed away; I had leaned in close towards her without realizing it.
"Sorry about that."
"You… you don't need to be sorry…" she said as she shifted uncomfortably. "I like how close you were."
Her eyes darted from left to right.
"No one likes to stay close to me like that." Kitten continued.
"Isn't Phil- Kyle?" I corrected myself.
I looked at my own body posture, my arms were folded in front of me. I slowly unfolded them so as to not raise attention.
"we should talk inside…" More words were lost under her perpetual whispers. "kyle doesn't like getting talked about in the open."
I looked around. The streets were filled with a scarce amount of people. Mostly students lazing around or families spending time with their children.
I couldn't remember the last time I saw so many people strolling around in their free time. I followed Kitten into the residential commons, and we took the elevator to the upper floors.
As usual, Kyle was full of secrets. The doors to his place were sealed by doors that had actual locks
"Don't you have a wrist implant?"
"Kyle says they bear the mark of the devil, and we should not pollute our body like that…" she continued to search for her key.
My wrist began to itch uncomfortably. One day I'd find out where he drew his line with ethics and Morality. The lock clicked, and Kitten opened the door triumphantly.
Kyle's place was tidy, as usual; there were rows of slippers meant for him and his guests by the door. To the left was a pair of bright pink and magenta slippers. Those would be Kyle's, I was sure of it.
I used to call Kyle's old room spartan; it had only had a computer, a bed, a few shelves for his books, and a single poster over the computer.
The poster had been a moment he'd printed out from a series we had watched; the battered protagonist lay against the chest of the heroine.
His place had become way hospitable; the room had become a joined living space with a kitchen and a clear separation created by a counter.
There was a TV on the far right side of the room, while on the left was his workspace with a computer. In between were bookshelves and another desk, and above the desk hung a single poster.
I went in front of the poster, laying my fingers on it, closing my eyes, I reenvisioned the moment, the last episode of the series before it was discontinued.
"Oh dear," she said, her voice breaking; she struggling to keep her own tears away yet determined to say them while consciousness was drifting away from our battered and broken protagonist.
The TV sprang to life and immediately a voice every youth within the Directorate would recognize rang out.
"And let this be known: no slight will be made on our dignity, nor will I tolerate any slights against our colonies!"
I flinched as the TV sprang to life with the unmistakable voice of the Custodian. My eyes darted across the room towards the door. Kitten was no longer there; instead, she was nestled in a blanket on the couch.
"people turn it on while they wait for him…" she whispered, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.
I sighed and sat down next to her. I stayed lost in thought until I understood what she meant. I sat down next to her to watch another gathering within the Custodians Chamber.
This time the Custodian was joined by a multitude of offices. The High Admiralty was present on the highest seats, beneath them the Sector Admirals and Commissars,
Another row beneath them were the Fleet Admirals and the Colonial Sector Commissars.
Most seats were filled with real people instead of their projections. The Admirals were joined by their Aides and Fleet Commissars, and the room thrummed with activity.
"How are we meant to protect the outer Colonies if you do not permit consolidation or mobilization? If we let them strike first then billions would die before the Sectors are going to be reinforced, our holdings prepared and supply lines secured!"
"How many weeks would it take for them to drive the enemy back?" Sector High Admiral Yirs challenged the Custodian.
Shouts in agreement were made from the Fleet Admirals; their aides had the same vindication in their eyes while the Commissars flanking them looked impassive.
"being the custodian sure must be hard," Kitten commented.
I nodded.
"I assure each of you, I do not intend to sacrifice the colonies or our mining outpost to the enemies. As you elected me I hold my power and office with utmost care. Each life within the Directorate is precious and will be protected, heard, and accounted for!" Applause erupted at his declaration.
"The latest reports have reached me." He paused for dramatic effect and the cheers died down. "Like the Fleet Commissars, I approve of the retaliatory strikes we committed."
He eyed the assembled Admirals.
"Yet I must ask for forgiveness and your understanding. This assembly is not to criticize the wisdom of excessive retaliation strikes and the subsequent virus bombing." He looked around once more. "Mobilizing our Navy now would stir up foes which are yet to be made; we cannot afford to fight a war across to spread our forces across multiple theaters.."
"having such certainty in oneself sure must be nice…" Kitten trailed off.
I eyed her. A blush edged its way up her cheeks. I leaned back on the couch.
"I'm surprised that you Meldiers consider the Custodian to be a hero."
"He's genuine at heart! His words echo the strength of truths! He doesn't back down from those who oppose him! Even when there is no one at his side while he is all alone!"
Kitten said explicitly leaning towards me until we were eye to eye; for the first time, I heard her voice rise above a whisper. Her feline-like green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm until she realized she had gotten too carried away.
"I-i'm sorry…" She muttered; her voice returned to her normal whisper.