43: And it was Such a Beautiful Day, too

Jack looked out of the van’s side window after he realized that no one was going to speak to him. At first they’d been concerned over his health, but after he’d grabbed Paro by the throat they offered the silent treatment. Even Michael was giving him the cold shoulder, though he didn’t look happy about it. Every now and then Jack saw him trying to sneak a glance, only to be nudged on the arm by Sarah.

Jack hadn’t meant to explode on Paro the way he had. Even for his usual impulsive self, he knew that he’d gone too far. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt Paro; lately it seemed his emotions were running out of control.

No, that’s not a good excuse.

Jack was so used to having his way that now it bothered him when he was told no. He never wanted to be a part of Paro’s team, or to have anything to do with these people for that matter. This was forced on him.

Still, how could Paro kick Kazou off the team?

The van soared by on the highway, and Jack took in the sights. Birds hopped to and from the trees that lined both ends of the road, gliding through the warm summer sky. Jack could hear music blasted from nearby cars, some with their sunroofs s down while kids stood up on the back seats, flailing their arms around.

Jack would normally be in high spirits. After all, he was finally on his way to New York City to see Kazou. Yet he couldn’t help but feel the cold touch of shame.

“Umm, Paro,” Jack said. “I’m sorry that I yelled at and strangled you.”

Paro glanced into the mirror above the driver’s seat and met his eyes. “I accept your apology, Jack. Do you want to tell me why you decided to flip out without first hearing my side of things?”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never been part of anything like this before, and I really liked Kazou. I didn’t know him as well as the rest of you, but I got the feeling that this was his life. Like, without this he’d be nothing.”

Paro took his eyes off Jack for a moment. He signaled a turn and switched lanes. Then he looked back into the driver’s side mirror.

“Does that give him the right to put all of our lives in danger? Think about it for a second. I’ve got the responsibility to keep all of you alive, and if any of you die, it’s on me. Because of what Kazou did, not only did Cemmera’s Op. team get to kill a child, but she almost succeeded in killing three of my own members as well. And why? Because Kazou decided to go against my orders.”

Jack lowered his eyes in shame. He took a breath and worked moisture into his mouth. “I … I didn’t think of things that way. I was kinda just angry and all, because you kicked him off the team.”

Paro smiled, and the rest of the team smiled along with him. “You need to think before you do things, Jack, especially since you’re a Psych. An Unrestricted, nonetheless.”

“It’s just that …” Jack paused a second. “It’s just …” He tried again to speak but failed.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

Jack sighed. “You said you called my mom, and it’s got me worried. I think I know what she’s gonna do, and it won’t be good.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You know, Jack?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten in big trouble before. She’s gonna … she’s gonna take away my Xbox, isn’t she?”

Melissa barked a laugh. “Oh, boy, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Jack wasn’t sure why his words sent Melissa into such a laughing fit. She’d been reading her fashion magazine, as she always did when they rode together as a team, but now she seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes focused on the page. She kept stopping to cover her mouth while she laughed.

“Well, anyway,” Jack said. “Can you call her up and tell her you were just kidding? ‘Cause like, I really need to play tonight, and I’m worried she might overreact. Last time I did something this bad, she took it away for almost four days.”

Melissa dropped her magazine, laughing with such a fury that tears were falling from her eyes. “Oh, no! Four whole days?”

Jack scrunched his lips at her. “It’s not funny, Melissa. Now that she’s a general I think she might be a bit stricter, like … maybe taking it away for five days.”

Melissa fell off her seat, with a rumbling, “Ahh—hahahah.”

“Stop taunting him,” Sarah said. “Poor Jack, he’s going to be in so much trouble now. Can’t you do something, Paro?”

“No, I can’t. Kazou took actions that resulted in the loss of life, and I won’t let Jack make the same mistakes. I’m making sure this behavior gets nipped in the bud. It’s more serious than you seem to realize. I’m his team-leader; I’m the one that has to make calls that can mean the difference of life or death for us. I need—no, I demand to be respected.”

Paro gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Jack put his hands on my throat, something that I’d have killed him for when I was younger. Did you know that if I really wanted to I could have him imprisoned for what he did? He’s just lucky the general I reported him to was his own mother. Any other general, well, except maybe Deven, but any other general besides Deven and his mother, and right now Jack would be receiving a beating in some holding cell, before being shipped off to a facility for hard labor. I hold the rank of captain, and he assaulted me.”

“I didn’t realize it was this serious,” Jack said. He knew that Paro was someone special in the organization, but he didn’t realize that his little outburst carried so many consequences. “I didn’t think that—”

“That’s just the thing!” Michael snapped. “You don’t think. Ever.”

Jack was shocked. Michael was the one person who was always on his side, yet for the first time since meeting him, he was disappointed in Jack.

“I’m sorry, bud. Look, you know I like ya, and we have fun and kid around a lot, but there’s a limit. There’s a time for foolin’ around, and there’s a time to be serious. You can’t do things like this, buddy. Paro was trying to explain something to you, something I don’t even agree with myself, but it’s his choice and not ours. Just ‘cause you disagree with him doesn’t make it okay to disrespect him.” Michael tipped his cowboy hat, as if the gesture somehow made his words more meaningful.

“I’ll try to think before I do stupid things from now on,” Jack said. He felt embarrassed before, but now he felt outright guilty now that he knew how serious his actions had been. “I’m really, really sorry.”

The van picked up speed, pulling onto a large bridge. Jack could see fishing boats down in the water on both sides, with children flying kites down on the docks. They’d be in Manhattan soon, and Jack hoped that Kazou would take the news relatively well. From what Jack remembered, he lived on the western end of the city, on the third floor of one of Manhattan’s many tall buildings; not as tall as H.Q, but every building in Manhattan seemed tall when compared to Jersey.

Jack gulped, his mind filling with thoughts of what awaited him when he’d get home. It will be okay, he thought. How angry can Mom possibly be over this?

******

“There we go,” Alana said cheerfully, clapping her hands to wipe off dust. “A job well done is a job well done.”

Jack’s video-game-thingy-whatever was smashed to bits, along with his television, computer, and his wall scrolls. Seeing the state of Jack’s room, Alana felt her cheer give way to a momentary sadness. Jack loved these things, and she’d just demolished them.

No, I can’t think like that. This needed to be done. Besides, with the money I make now that I’m a general, I can buy all this garbage over again if he ever shows me he deserves it.

Alana was so overprotective of her son that she’d allowed him to get away with too much over the years. Jack had never been a bad kid; actually, his capacity for kindness and caring made him something unique. No, his problems lay elsewhere: he was lazy, a poor student, and he sat around the house all day watching television.

No more, Alana thought with a nod.

It really was her fault, or at least a good deal of it, anyway. With Sebastian away for so long, Alana wanted to be the perfect mother. But she should’ve known better. She’d been a general, and she’d disciplined many young kids in her day. When a normal kid got away with causing trouble it was bad enough, but when a Psych did, it was often catastrophic.

Putting the white general’s coat back around her shoulders, Alana breathed a sigh. She felt foolish for acting the way she had all these years. Jack was going to see a side of his mother he’d soon wish to forget.

****

Kazou growled. He slammed his refrigerator door shut and then marched over to the corner of his two-bedroom apartment. Living in New York City was expensive, requiring a high-paying job just to make ends meet. Kazou had only been unemployed for two weeks, and he was already feeling the effects; there was no longer any food in the fridge.

Kazou stumbled his way into the bathroom, pausing to lean over the sink and examine himself in the mirror. He was a mess; a five-day stubble covered his unwashed face, and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. He was miserable, and the only thing that made any of it better was the few minutes a day he was able to speak with his brother on the phone.

He’d received a call from H.Q earlier saying that his former team was dropping by to discuss something important. For a brief moment he’d been happy. Then he remembered how they’d abandoned him, threw him out like trash. He didn’t want to see them; not even if they were coming to ask him back on the team. He had too much pride for that.

I’ll never forgive them, Kazou thought.

He was glad he was alone, because a shameful thing was happening to him again. His eyes grew moist with tears, and he leaned over his sink to cry shamefully into it. “Why?” he asked, choking on his own tears. “Why did I make that damn phone call? I ruined everything … I ruined everything!”

Kazou was only fooling himself. He had no pride. When his team arrived, he’d probably throw himself on the ground and beg to rejoin. His life was meaningless now. So many times he’d thought of simply ending it, of killing himself and being done with it all, but then he’d be abandoning his brother, Shou. That was the one thing he wouldn’t do.

“If only I could go back!” he shouted at the unshaven visage of himself in the mirror above the sink. “If only I could turn back the clock and never make that phone call. God, please, send me back to the time I betrayed them. Just give me one more chance.”

He slammed his fists against the sink, smashing through the ceramic surface and sending it plummeting down on the tiled floor. Water sprayed over him, but he didn’t care anymore. He was in a never-ending state of agony.

He barely heard the knock on his door through his own anguished cries. They’re here! Right now, the most important thing was to avoid looking pathetic in front of Paro and the team. Luckily, the bathroom mirror had been spared his carnage. He examined himself one more time.

He wouldn’t be able to shave—he really should’ve done that already—but at the very least he could dry his eyes. He wouldn’t let them know he’d been crying.

Jack, he thought. That one can see through anything.

Kazou was sure he could fool Paro and the rest, but that Harris-kid had some sort of pain radar. Even Sarah, their Telepath, wouldn’t be able to tell someone’s grief unless she was trying. Sometimes it seemed Jack could look into a person’s eyes and see their troubles. The way he had with that girl, Requiem.

Kazou straightened himself out. He threw on a different shirt, though he still looked like a mess. It was the best he could do in the time he had. He walked over to the door and put his massive palm on the doorknob—then stopped.

Get it together. You can do this. Don’t act weak in front of them. Don’t let them know how much you hurt. Just smile and hope they leave as soon as possible.

Kazou took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, hoping Jack wouldn’t see through him. “Hey, guys,” he said. “Long time no—”

Kazou stopped in his tracks. The four people standing in the doorframe were not the members of his team; from what Kazou could see, they didn’t appear to be the members of anyone’s team. There were three men that looked in their mid-twenties, and a girl perhaps no older than sixteen. The man standing in the center of the other two was a muscular-looking oaf, with a beard that, upon closer inspection, resembled a lion’s mane.

“Kazou Takeshi?” he asked. “Are you Kazou Takeshi?” he asked again.

Kazou wet his lips. “I am, sir. Who might you be?”

“Ah!” the girl with them cheered. “It’s him after all. Wow, we got it right on the first try this time.” Kazou lowered his eyes to take in the girl; she looked ridiculous. She was pale, blonde, and she held a resemblance to what Kazou imagined death would look like, if death were an awkward-looking pale teenager. She wore a bulky wedding gown that covered her feet, and she had a pink ribbon running across her forehead.

Come to think of it, they were all dressed outrageously. Aside from the lion-looking man and the bride-girl, the two other had their own unique quirks: one was dressed in the brown uniform of a deliveryman, complete with a cap and button-down shirt. Kazou could make out his short blond hair under the cap. The other wore a tuxedo, bedecked with a bowtie and silk handkerchief.

“Clair, let me handle this. We agreed,” the deliveryman said.

“All right, fine.” She puckered her lips. “But I get the next one.”

The deliveryman stepped forward and pushed the lion-looking guy aside. The hairy beast of a man snarled at him, but the deliveryman paid it no mind; he tugged on his brown uniform and smiled.

“Hello, Kazou Takeshi,” he said. “My name is Davie, your local deliveryman. I am here because—”

“Idiot!” the man in the fancy suit shouted. “Delivery men don’t make speeches.”

The one who called himself Davie turned around and hissed at the speaker. He was also blond-haired, and the resemblance to Davie was striking. Kazou figured the one in the suit must be a twin, or a first cousin at the very least. “Don’t tell me what to do, Robby. It’s my turn this time, which means it’s my rules.”

Davie turned back to Kazou and bowed his head. “I apologize for that. So … now where was I? Ah, yes. I’m Davie, your local deliveryman. I’d like it if you could please sign here, sir.”

He held out a piece of blank paper attached to a clipboard with a pen. Kazou skimmed the words written on it—it was mostly nonsensical babble.

“I’m sorry,” Kazou said, “but who are you people? And what are you delivering?”

Davie grinned. “Why, your death, of course.”

Kazou felt a jolt of alarm rush into his stomach. Somehow, he knew these four odd people were Psychs. But why were they here? He needed to play it cool—he kept his face passive and his voice soft.

“I’m … I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I think you have me mixed up with someone else.”

The girl, Clair, held her hand to her mouth and chortled. It was an annoying, aggravating laugh. She twirled, spinning around in her wedding dress. “We’re playing Op. team,” she said. “It’s so fun! It’s my favorite game.”

Kazou backed away from them, retreating into his apartment. To his horror, they followed. “You’re an Op. team?” he whispered. “But that’s impossible. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Clair said with another chortle. “We have a signed kill order for you.” She whistled while wiggling a finger. “Someone’s been a bad, bad Brute.”

“No!” Davie yelled at her. “We aren’t playing Op. team. We all agreed we’d play deliveryman today. He can’t die until he’s signed for his death.”

Kazou looked back and forth between the four of them. The hell was going on? So they weren’t an Op. team, and they were just pretending to be one? What kind of nonsense did he just get into? The other man, the one Kazou suspected was Davie’s brother, Robby, put an arm around Davie’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s just kill him.”

“No way,” Davie said, sticking out his tongue like a child. “Not until he’s signed for his death.”

“Well he’s obviously not going to sign for it now,” the hair man with the lion’s mane said. “Davie, you’re such an idiot sometimes.”

Kazou stood transfixed in both terror and confusion while he watched the four Psychs argue among each other. Clair moaned that she wanted to “play Op. team” while Davie shouted over the voices of the other two men, insisting they “play deliveryman.”

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Kazou asked after he could no longer bear to continue watching them argue in his living room.

“Hmm?” Davie asked. “Oh, oh yeah! We’re here because Cyrus sent us to kill you. He’s got this like, thing, where he’s worried that if he kills someone with blood-related Psychs in their family, they’ll come back after him for revenge. So we’re sent after living relatives whenever he does whatever it is he did to the person that he did it to, or something. I don’t know. Where was I? Deliveryman, right. Yeah, you have to sign for this, good sir.”

Kazou trembled, hoping for all he was worth this was a dream. He allowed the man’s words to sink in. “I’m sorry, but who is this Cyrus? And you said you come after he’s killed a … ?”

“A relative,” Clair finished. She chortled, covering her mouth with her palm. “You’re Shou Takeshi’s brother, right? Actually, I really wanted that kill, but stupid Sebastian—”

“Shou!” Kazou shouted. “What are you saying about my brother? Hey, what are you saying?” He grabbed Clair by the neckline of her wedding dress. He shook her, repeatedly. The girl didn’t seem to mind; she simply continued to chortle. “That’s my brother’s name. Please, tell me, what are you talking about?”

Davie put an arm on his shoulder, a sympathetic frown on his face. Kazou released Clair and spun around to face him.

“Poor guy,” Davie said. “He’s got a real bad case of the ‘I miss ya.’ Your brother … he’s dead, my friend. It’s nothing personal, of course. He and his team tried to kill our boss, so they ended up the ones dead.”

Kazou tried to find some hint of mockery in his face, some clue that this was all just a sick and twisted joke. He could see neither. He backed away and stumbled into a sitting position on his couch. The four strangers shut the door closed behind him and entered his apartment.

“No,” Kazou whispered. “No, no, no.”

This had to be nothing more than a cruel prank. Why would anyone kill Shou? He was a good man, on a powerful Op. team. It must’ve been a joke. Someone was putting him up to this.

Then he remembered the phone call, the reason he’d changed his shirt and cleaned his face.

Paro and the team are coming to see me. Maybe it’s because … oh, no. Oh, please no. Not this on top of everything else. Anything in the world but this. Please not Shou.

Kazou’s eyes stung as they moistened with tears. “Tell me the truth. Who are you people, and is my brother really dead? If this is a prank, I will forgive all of you, but please tell me the truth.”

Davie shrugged. “I didn’t see it happen, but if the boss says he’s dead then he’s dead.”

A rush of emotions downed out Kazou’s rational mind. He bellowed, his voice booming with all the fury of a dying God.

“Who did this? Tell me, who did this? Was it you?” Now he grabbed Davie’s shirt. “Who did this? Tell me! I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you!”

“Ah, sir, can you sign here first?”

Kazou lifted Davie into the air in his massive arms then threw him across his apartment. The false deliveryman screamed as he was sent soaring back at the apartment’s sole entrance. He crashed into the wooden door, knocked it off its hinges, and then came to a stop on his back, breathing heavily. Of all things, his three companions laughed while they watched their friend moan in pain.

Davie jumped back to his feet, his back covered in dust. There was fury in his eyes now, and he licked his lips. “I’ll kill you, chop off your fingers, and then forge your signature! Either way, you’re signing.”

“Need some help?” Clair asked, chortling. “I can melt him a bit, make it easier for you.”

Davie spat on the broken door. “This one’s mine.” He gestured with his hand, and the man’s abrupt use of power surprised Kazou. He was clearly a Telekinetic, as an instant after he gestured, Kazou felt a pulling sensation. Before he could react, he was lifted into the air and hurtled straight for the man.

Kazou, powered by his uncontrollable desire to kill, was more than happy to be flung in Davie’s direction. He pulled back his arm. He’d practiced this maneuver many times with Michael. If a Telekinetic wanted to pull him in, he’d pay for it with his life.

The man jumped out of the way at the last moment. Kazou’s fist crashed into the wall adjacent to the now-broken door, smashing through it with a bang. Davie man gestured again, and Kazou braced himself. It wasn’t easy for a Reinforcer to withstand a Kinetic’s grabs, but it could be done. Kazou was stoic, unwilling to yield even a single inch. He felt the force, which was similar to a magnet, attempt to pull him in. Kazou struggled to maintain his balance; even one misstep and he’d be completely within the man’s control.

“This one’s not bad,” Davie said. He walked forward and positioned himself directly in front of Kazou, within arm’s reach. Kazou struggled for all he was worth, but he was locked in place, unable to move. This man was even more powerful than Ruin, the Kinetic that had almost killed him and Michael.

It doesn’t matter. Ruin did not kill my brother—this man did.

Kazou drew even more power into himself, and he screamed with the exertion of trying to break through the Kinetic’s hold on him. His voice rang out, a voice filled with sadness and misery. His own life meant nothing if he didn’t kill the dog that had slain his brother. He poured all of his emotions into one goal—ripping through the Kinetic’s grab.

Then he felt it, like the snapping of a twig, and all at once he was free. Davie blinked, and Kazou could tell by the look on his face that he never expected Kazou to break through. Well, Kazou wouldn’t give him the opportunity to try again, either.

Though Davie was far stronger than he was, power meant nothing if you didn’t have a head, and in Davie’s arrogance, he’d positioned himself right in front of Kazou.

Before the man could so much as breathe, let alone gesture, Kazou charged at him. He grabbed Davie’s shoulders and threw him to the floor, then pounced on top of him. With all the strength Kazou possessed, he drew back his arm, prepared to slaughter the man who had mocked his big brother.

“This is serious!” Robby shouted at the man with the lion’s mane. He too gestured, and instead of ripping through flesh, Kazou’s fist exploded through the floor, sending chunks of dust and tile spraying around the room. With a growl, he realized Davie had narrowly escaped the clutches of death; the other man, Robby had slid him to safety across the floor.

So, two of them are Kinetics?

“Whew,” Robby said. “Unlike you, I don’t let my brother go off and get himself killed.”

“How dare you!”

Kazou howled in rage and charged at Davie. He no longer cared that there were four of them, each likely powerful enough to put an end to him. These men mocked his brother and had something to do with his death—they were going to suffer.

“I’ve got it this time,” Davie said. “So don’t help, okay? I’ll be fine.”

The man was nimble, and each time Kazou attacked him he was able to leap out of the way, resulting in another crash and sending more broken furniture flying around the apartment. Kazou chased him into the kitchen, in a wild and uncontrollable frenzy. Each time he attacked, Davie dodged with ease. Kazou’s fist smashed through his counter, his oven, even his clock on the corner of the kitchen wall. Kazou was demolishing his home: chunks of tile, wood, and glass were left behind wherever Kazou attacked. He didn’t care that his fists were gushing dark blood, or that he was wearing himself down. In his craze, all he wanted was to kill this man, to rip his head off his shoulders.

“Davie, stop toying with him and attack,” Robby called. “This is taking too long.”

Davie shrugged. “All right, fine.” He gestured and, with a force far greater than the one used earlier, Kazou felt a foreign presence wrap around his leg. It pulled at first, then with a gigantic tug it picked him up. For a short while, Kazou struggled, upside down midair, Davie’s telekinesis suspending him by his leg.

Davie grinned, and Kazou was tossed across the room, smashing into a wall. The impact caused the wind to be knocked out of him. He slid down the wall and ended up in a sitting position, exhausted, with tears in his eyes and no knowledge of why his brother had been killed. Shou was dead, and now he was only moments away from being reunited with him.

“I don’t suppose I can get you to sign before you die?” Davie asked, strolling towards him. He cracked his knuckles. “It’d mean the world to me.”

Kazou spat at the man, a bloodied glob of mucus that Kazou hoped would roar his final defiance.

Davie sighed. “All right, have it your way.”

“Snap his neck!” Clair cheered, followed by her disgusting chortle. How much it would hurt to have his neck telekinetically snapped?

Probably about the same as having it done the normal way? Kazou surprised himself by laughing at the thought.

He felt the energy gather around his neck, causing a prickling sensation on his skin. The force built, growing stronger and stronger. Kazou might have been weaker than the Davie was, but even despite the difference in power, to snap the neck of a Reinforcer using Telekinesis was no small feat.

“This should be enough,” Davie announced. “I’ve decided I’m just going to forge your signature.”

Kazou closed his eyes and made his final peace. He hoped he could face his brother in the next life knowing he’d failed to enact revenge for his murder. In a way, Kazou felt he deserved this—maybe it would make up for betraying his team.

A pained cry rang throughout the apartment. Davie shouted something, and then there came shouts from all around. Kazou opened his eyes, wondering why he still numbered among the living.

Davie was no longer standing over him. The man was in midair, but only for a moment. He took off at blinding speed and then crashed through Kazou’s window with a deafening crack, landing on the patio outside. Paro was standing near Kazou with his palm extended.

“It’s them!” Clair shouted. “It’s the real Op. teams, you guys. We’ll be killed, we’ll be killed! We have to leave!”

“Not quite,” Paro said. “I don’t have the slightest idea who any of you people are, but I give you my word that if you surrender now, none of you will be harmed. I swear to you that your lives will be spared.”

“That’s how we be rolling!” said the voice of a scrawny boy with messy black hair. He raised his hand to Paro as if expecting a high-five, then frowned when Paro shook his head. Kazou didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He tried to stand, but he slid back down to the floor.

“Don’t move,” Sarah said, entering the apartment and rushing to his side. “Oh, Kazou, what have they done to you?”

Kazou ignored her. He’d longed for weeks to see his former team, dreaming of seeing them just one more time. Now that they were before him, he didn’t care. There was something so much more important he needed first.

“Paro!” he cried.

Paro turned to him, worry in his eyes. “Are you all right? We’re here now; it’ll be okay.”

“No, listen to me, please.” Kazou tried again to stand up, groaning in pain. Sarah held him in place. “Listen to me, I beg of you. Did you ever think of me as a friend? Did I ever mean anything to anyone on this team?”

“Of course you did,” Michael said, standing beside Jack, who still tried to earn a high-five.

“You still do,” Paro agreed.

“Then please, I beg of all of you. Kill these people. My brother, Shou, they murdered him. I swear it!”

Kazou felt himself pulled forward into Sarah’s arms as she embraced him. “We can’t do that,” she said. “Don’t forget who we … who you once were. We know all about Shou. We were coming here to tell you, actually. I see whoever these people are got to you first.”

Davie came back through the broken window, covered in shallow cuts around his face. He laughed. “Wow,” he said, “I didn’t think this loser had any friends.”

“Thank god you’re okay,” Robby said. “That brute almost—”

“Gah! What the hell did you just say?” Melissa interrupted.

When Robby and Davie glanced at each other in confusion, Clair laughed and said, “They don’t like that word, ‘brute’.” She laughed again then lifted up her wedding dress, exposing her skinny, pale frame, and her oversized white boots. She spun around in a circle, singing the same word over and over. “Brute, brute, brutey brutey brute, oh look at the brute, brute, brute, brute!”

Melissa balled her hands into fists. “This freakish skank is mine.”

The girl chortled, and Melissa snarled at the sound. Paro walked to her side, followed by Jack and Michael. Sarah seemed content to stay with Kazou, but already he could see her begin to look downward, shielding them from Manipulation.

“They have no Telepath,” she announced. “This should be no problem.”

Davie looked at his brother and danced on his feet, moaning. “Aww man, I told you we should’ve brought a Path, but none of you guys listened to me.”

The hairy man with the lion’s mane looked around the room, before tapping Davie on the shoulder. “We need to leave, Clair’s right.”

“Leave where?” Davie asked, waving an arm around him, as if to point out the obvious. “In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t very well turn our backs to an Op. team. Maybe we can kill a few before they take us out.”

“No,” Clair said. “They offered us a chance to surrender. Do you remember what Cyrus told us? They’re one of those other ones.”

“Your point?”

“They can’t chase us if there’s someone who’s wounded. It’s like their sacred rule.” Clair winked at Paro. “Isn’t that right, stud?”

Paro’s jaw dropped. Even Kazou, in tremendous pain from his wounds and the news of his brother’s death, wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Watch the way you speak to me,” Paro demanded. “Or else.”

Clair didn’t seem to pay the threat any mind. She clapped her hands together. “Here’s what happens next,” she said. “We’re going to back out of this window, slowly, and we’re going to leave through the fire escape. You look pretty strong, stud. But I wonder, can you guarantee the protection of your team?” As if to demonstrate her point, she waved her hand, and a puff of smoke appeared but a centimeter in front of Melissa’s face.

“She’s far stronger than me,” Sarah whispered, alarm in her voice. “I can’t stop her Manipulation.”

Paro nodded. Kazou was impressed at Paro’s ability to maintain his cool through it all. “I understand,” Paro said. “Stop attacking my Reinforcer, and I won’t pursue you. Harm her even a little, and I will kill all four of you.”

“Good,” she said, adding the same, ear-splitting chortle.

“Oh, yuck! What the heck is that?” Jack asked. “What is that awful sound?” He glared at Clair. “Is that your laugh? Whoa, that’s really, really bad. Hey, actually, I know how to do one even worse than that. Adam hates this. Check this out. MUHUHUHUHUHU.”

“Shut the hell up!” Melissa shrieked, covering her ears.

Even Clair covered her ears at the ungodly noise. “That is nothing, you silly boy.” She chortled even louder, and for a painful few seconds, the two of them filled the apartment with the unbearable sounds of their intentionally ear-drum-shattering laughter. They were in some kind of laughter battle.

“Cease fire! For God’s sake, cease fire!” Davie cried, tugging on Clair’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

Clair looked at Jack and then pointed at him. “We shall meet again, boy.”

Jack stood straighter and narrowed his eyes on her. “I’ll be waiting.”

Kazou, no longer able to withstand the pain, closed his eyes and passed out. Too much had happened to him in one day, and now he needed to sleep.