Blackjack Gabbiani
Merely a collector
- Pronouns
- Them
- Partners
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"Hey, who left the window open?"
"Worry about that later! It's time for cake!"
Good, they weren't going to look for her. Mitsumi's operation had gone according to plan, and she was in and out of the lab while the scientists had been distracted in the other room.
She recalled her Duskull, who had been watching guard for her, and headed into the nearby forest. Veilstone would be just a few hours walk, so she had plenty of time to think. The information had been easy enough to obtain, but she wondered about the reason why.
They had been celebrating something. Celebrations in the Galactic base were always unauthorized and always clandestine, since they were technically forbidden. And the idea of celebrating a birthday, why would that be anything to denote?
She would ask Cyrus about it. He had taught her everything anyway, and usually answered any questions she had. He knew her better than she knew herself, and she trusted him with everything.
"My report, boss." She handed the short summation across the desk to Cyrus. "Everything has been turned over to the lab."
He nodded and glanced down the paper. "I see. There was no complication."
"They were distracted, sir. Although I wanted to ask you about why. It doesn't directly concern the mission, so whenever you have time."
Cyrus set the paper aside and looked up at her, his icy eyes giving his neutral expression a piercing quality. "Now seems appropriate. Proceed."
"As you will, sir." Mitsumi saluted again, just as she had when she entered his office. "They were celebrating a birthday. We've never done so, correct?"
"Correct. Celebrations are a waste of resources and based in meaningless sentimentality." He rested his hands before him on his desk. "Mitsumi. What did their celebration entail?"
"Um." She thought for a second. "They mentioned cake. I heard clinking, implying they were drinking something as well. There was much laughter, and I believe they were playing a game where a blindfold was involved."
Cyrus let his eyes close and inhaled deeply. "I see. Party games designed to disorient for amusement..." He met her gaze again. "Such events usually imbibe either alcoholic or carbonated drinks, both of which rot the body and can lead to addiction...." By that point, he seemed to see straight through her. "Mitsumi, you are at an age where you are susceptible to such influences. You are to be stronger than that."
She glanced away for a brief second before looking back at him. Someday, would she be able to make people that uncomfortable with just a look, as if she was seeing their very essences? It seemed to come so easily to him. "Actually, sir, that's another question."
"Oh?"
"Well..." Again she looked off to the side for a second. "You know I don't remember anything of my life before you found me. Consequently, I don't know how old I am. Do you know?"
"You were approximately five when I found you in Mount Coronet. It has been four years."
"I know that, but I mean anything more specific. I don't know when my birthday is." It was almost with a sense of resignation that she looked back at him.
"Neither do I. But the specifics are unimportant." He finally released that intense stare and looked back at the paper in front of him.
"Do you know your own birthday, sir?"
"I do."
"When is it?"
At first it seemed like he would ignore her, as he picked up his pen again. But after a few seconds he continued. "I will not tell you, because you will wish to denote it with celebration. I have been through this exact exchange with other officers as well, and you are receiving the same answer I have given them."
"Oh..." She slumped a little at the totality of it all.
"Mitsumi." Cyrus's blunt voice snapped her back to attention. Though he looked down at the papers in front of him, his direct tone ensured that he was fully in command. "You are above that. Do not consider it desirable to sink to the level of the common, emotional folk. Their base mentality is a plague that we exist to remedy, and our new world will liberate us from such shackles as sentimentality. We will no longer be bound by the limitations of our weak minds."
"Of course, sir." Saluting again was a kneejerk response, something she was conditioned for without any clear memory of having been taught it.
He began to write something, pausing with an intentional weight to it before adding "If there is nothing more..."
Mitsumi thought for a moment, as quick as she could, and an idea occurred to her. "Sir, if I can have permission to leave the base today."
"Do not stray for long, but granted. Consider it a reward for accomplishing your mission." He returned to the form in front of him and when she said nothing, he concluded with "You are dismissed."
Another salute, and she exited to the hallway, doors sliding shut behind her. The idea she'd had was something unlike anything she had ever thought of before, and to consider it was incredible and terrifying all at once.
It wasn't going against Cyrus's orders, not really. It would be a simple shopping trip, nothing she hadn't done before. But as she checked out of the base at the front desk and headed out into Veilstone's afternoon light, she found that she was tingling from head to toe, both from the heady sense of rebellion and the thought that he might perceive her actions as something treasonous. The combination of excitement and deep, cutting regret propelled her feet through the city streets.
She was still in her undercover clothes, in case she had been spotted and had to pass as an average kid, but even avoiding the suspicious stares of others in the city couldn't shake the growing sensation that Cyrus's piercing stare was still upon her, as if it was some broadcast spreading out over the population. In a way he did see everything, the way he could analyze the whole of human nature and cut to the heart of any issue.
Mitsumi just hoped that the grocery store was in some manner of blind spot.
With every step, she seemed to feel the echo of her heartbeat resonate, but she kept walking with a strange sense of determination that she couldn't put her mind quite on. If she just kept walking, if she just kept going, if she just kept telling herself that it was just a purchase like any other, she would be able to keep ahead of the wave of guilt that she knew she would feel once she was finished.
The purchase was small but she hid it away in a bag anyway, and looked around in search of anybody who could have seen her before ducking down into the loading dock behind the store and settling down on the steps next to a truck dock with her forbidden treasure.
Cheap sheet cake had never tasted so good, Mitsumi thought as she stuffed a chunk of it in her mouth. Savoring the first bite for herself, she remembered Duskull before she could take a second, and released him to offer a bite. He seemed content to take a dollop of frosting from her fingers, and didn't question what the occasion could be.
Far too quickly, the cake was gone, save for a few streaks and crumbs, and Mitsumi licked up as much of the evidence as she could. She would return to base, wash up, return to her training, and nobody would be the wiser for her transgression.
Or that was the hope anyway. Cyrus had a way of knowing everything, so she hoped she could avoid him for the rest of the day.
The cake container went into the recycling bin on the corner, rather than the big bin behind the store, and she wiped her mouth with her wrist to get the rest of the crumbs away. Nobody she wanted to avoid had seen her, so there was no one to betray her actions.
"We didn't do anything wrong," she told Duskull, though it was clear even to the detached ghost that she was trying to convince herself. Duskull snickered a bit and patted her on the shoulder, but she moved to face it a moment later. "Do I have anything in my teeth?"
It bobbed back and forth to indicate a negative, but paused and wiped away a touch of chocolate from between her front teeth.
"Ah, thank you. I'll have to go back in to check..." Her action of recalling Duskull was more stilted than usual, only happening after a pause to consider her actions, and reentering the store, she felt the gaze of every security camera. "...didn't do anything wrong," she told herself again.
It was always a bit unusual to see her reflection have brown eyes. Her natural color was almost always covered up by green contacts, the color of her hair, out of Cyrus's demand for uniformity. These missions were different, though, and she had to be able to pass as a normal person.
Normal people had birthdays though. Normal people knew those basic details about themselves.
She found herself with her hand up to her reflection in a gesture she had heard described as sympathetic. To hold hands with another was a sign of affection, but to hold hands with yourself was something self-soothing, so she watched her hand move with itself in perfect time.
"Yeah," Mitsumi said to herself, "today is..." She took a shaky breath and forced herself to look in her reflection's eyes. "Today is my birthday."
"Worry about that later! It's time for cake!"
Good, they weren't going to look for her. Mitsumi's operation had gone according to plan, and she was in and out of the lab while the scientists had been distracted in the other room.
She recalled her Duskull, who had been watching guard for her, and headed into the nearby forest. Veilstone would be just a few hours walk, so she had plenty of time to think. The information had been easy enough to obtain, but she wondered about the reason why.
They had been celebrating something. Celebrations in the Galactic base were always unauthorized and always clandestine, since they were technically forbidden. And the idea of celebrating a birthday, why would that be anything to denote?
She would ask Cyrus about it. He had taught her everything anyway, and usually answered any questions she had. He knew her better than she knew herself, and she trusted him with everything.
"My report, boss." She handed the short summation across the desk to Cyrus. "Everything has been turned over to the lab."
He nodded and glanced down the paper. "I see. There was no complication."
"They were distracted, sir. Although I wanted to ask you about why. It doesn't directly concern the mission, so whenever you have time."
Cyrus set the paper aside and looked up at her, his icy eyes giving his neutral expression a piercing quality. "Now seems appropriate. Proceed."
"As you will, sir." Mitsumi saluted again, just as she had when she entered his office. "They were celebrating a birthday. We've never done so, correct?"
"Correct. Celebrations are a waste of resources and based in meaningless sentimentality." He rested his hands before him on his desk. "Mitsumi. What did their celebration entail?"
"Um." She thought for a second. "They mentioned cake. I heard clinking, implying they were drinking something as well. There was much laughter, and I believe they were playing a game where a blindfold was involved."
Cyrus let his eyes close and inhaled deeply. "I see. Party games designed to disorient for amusement..." He met her gaze again. "Such events usually imbibe either alcoholic or carbonated drinks, both of which rot the body and can lead to addiction...." By that point, he seemed to see straight through her. "Mitsumi, you are at an age where you are susceptible to such influences. You are to be stronger than that."
She glanced away for a brief second before looking back at him. Someday, would she be able to make people that uncomfortable with just a look, as if she was seeing their very essences? It seemed to come so easily to him. "Actually, sir, that's another question."
"Oh?"
"Well..." Again she looked off to the side for a second. "You know I don't remember anything of my life before you found me. Consequently, I don't know how old I am. Do you know?"
"You were approximately five when I found you in Mount Coronet. It has been four years."
"I know that, but I mean anything more specific. I don't know when my birthday is." It was almost with a sense of resignation that she looked back at him.
"Neither do I. But the specifics are unimportant." He finally released that intense stare and looked back at the paper in front of him.
"Do you know your own birthday, sir?"
"I do."
"When is it?"
At first it seemed like he would ignore her, as he picked up his pen again. But after a few seconds he continued. "I will not tell you, because you will wish to denote it with celebration. I have been through this exact exchange with other officers as well, and you are receiving the same answer I have given them."
"Oh..." She slumped a little at the totality of it all.
"Mitsumi." Cyrus's blunt voice snapped her back to attention. Though he looked down at the papers in front of him, his direct tone ensured that he was fully in command. "You are above that. Do not consider it desirable to sink to the level of the common, emotional folk. Their base mentality is a plague that we exist to remedy, and our new world will liberate us from such shackles as sentimentality. We will no longer be bound by the limitations of our weak minds."
"Of course, sir." Saluting again was a kneejerk response, something she was conditioned for without any clear memory of having been taught it.
He began to write something, pausing with an intentional weight to it before adding "If there is nothing more..."
Mitsumi thought for a moment, as quick as she could, and an idea occurred to her. "Sir, if I can have permission to leave the base today."
"Do not stray for long, but granted. Consider it a reward for accomplishing your mission." He returned to the form in front of him and when she said nothing, he concluded with "You are dismissed."
Another salute, and she exited to the hallway, doors sliding shut behind her. The idea she'd had was something unlike anything she had ever thought of before, and to consider it was incredible and terrifying all at once.
It wasn't going against Cyrus's orders, not really. It would be a simple shopping trip, nothing she hadn't done before. But as she checked out of the base at the front desk and headed out into Veilstone's afternoon light, she found that she was tingling from head to toe, both from the heady sense of rebellion and the thought that he might perceive her actions as something treasonous. The combination of excitement and deep, cutting regret propelled her feet through the city streets.
She was still in her undercover clothes, in case she had been spotted and had to pass as an average kid, but even avoiding the suspicious stares of others in the city couldn't shake the growing sensation that Cyrus's piercing stare was still upon her, as if it was some broadcast spreading out over the population. In a way he did see everything, the way he could analyze the whole of human nature and cut to the heart of any issue.
Mitsumi just hoped that the grocery store was in some manner of blind spot.
With every step, she seemed to feel the echo of her heartbeat resonate, but she kept walking with a strange sense of determination that she couldn't put her mind quite on. If she just kept walking, if she just kept going, if she just kept telling herself that it was just a purchase like any other, she would be able to keep ahead of the wave of guilt that she knew she would feel once she was finished.
The purchase was small but she hid it away in a bag anyway, and looked around in search of anybody who could have seen her before ducking down into the loading dock behind the store and settling down on the steps next to a truck dock with her forbidden treasure.
Cheap sheet cake had never tasted so good, Mitsumi thought as she stuffed a chunk of it in her mouth. Savoring the first bite for herself, she remembered Duskull before she could take a second, and released him to offer a bite. He seemed content to take a dollop of frosting from her fingers, and didn't question what the occasion could be.
Far too quickly, the cake was gone, save for a few streaks and crumbs, and Mitsumi licked up as much of the evidence as she could. She would return to base, wash up, return to her training, and nobody would be the wiser for her transgression.
Or that was the hope anyway. Cyrus had a way of knowing everything, so she hoped she could avoid him for the rest of the day.
The cake container went into the recycling bin on the corner, rather than the big bin behind the store, and she wiped her mouth with her wrist to get the rest of the crumbs away. Nobody she wanted to avoid had seen her, so there was no one to betray her actions.
"We didn't do anything wrong," she told Duskull, though it was clear even to the detached ghost that she was trying to convince herself. Duskull snickered a bit and patted her on the shoulder, but she moved to face it a moment later. "Do I have anything in my teeth?"
It bobbed back and forth to indicate a negative, but paused and wiped away a touch of chocolate from between her front teeth.
"Ah, thank you. I'll have to go back in to check..." Her action of recalling Duskull was more stilted than usual, only happening after a pause to consider her actions, and reentering the store, she felt the gaze of every security camera. "...didn't do anything wrong," she told herself again.
It was always a bit unusual to see her reflection have brown eyes. Her natural color was almost always covered up by green contacts, the color of her hair, out of Cyrus's demand for uniformity. These missions were different, though, and she had to be able to pass as a normal person.
Normal people had birthdays though. Normal people knew those basic details about themselves.
She found herself with her hand up to her reflection in a gesture she had heard described as sympathetic. To hold hands with another was a sign of affection, but to hold hands with yourself was something self-soothing, so she watched her hand move with itself in perfect time.
"Yeah," Mitsumi said to herself, "today is..." She took a shaky breath and forced herself to look in her reflection's eyes. "Today is my birthday."
