The Base (2)
"…You're saying you want to move in here?"
"…That's right. Exactly."
Eclipse watched the flustered Hajun and thought to herself.
How could a person possess a color that white?
Until now, she had always trusted colors without question. Because colors had never once lied to her. Words could be dressed up however one pleased, and expressions could be performed at will. But the colors she saw — those, ultimately, could never be hidden.
And no matter who the person was, colors always ended up mixed. Take the people at PAX, for example. Even when they smiled, gray bled through. When they offered praise, pink stained the edges. The managers were worse. Beneath their kindly tones, she'd seen sticky pink and yellow greed tangled together far too many times.
But this man in front of her was different.
…He's human, all right. He breathes, he thinks, he eats.
And yet he was white to an abnormal degree — bright enough that it felt like it might blind her. What goal did he carry, what conviction did he hold, that a person could be that pure white?
…I can't trust that.
So Eclipse could not bring herself to trust him. He might have some way of dodging her ability. Or her ability simply might not work on him. Rationally speaking, she ought to keep her distance.
But that wasn't what she thought.
…I want to see it up close.
How long could that white of his stay white? What would it take to shake it? What would it take to dirty it? Or if he never got dirty, no matter what — then why?
That curiosity, that hunger to understand the person called Ryu Hajun, was rattling around inside her skull.
So… this is surveillance.
Hajun was clearly hiding something. No human could possess a color like that. This was a bold decision made to dig out that truth. …At least, that was what Eclipse decided to tell herself.
"…Hmm."
Hajun regarded Eclipse as she stared at him, falling silent for a moment. Outwardly he looked flustered, but his color, of course, did not change in the slightest. Before long, he spoke.
"It's possible."
"…!"
Unlike Hajun's utter calm, Eclipse was a little startled by the answer.
"F-for real…?!"
"As a temporary arrangement, though. Call it emergency lodging."
"…Ah."
"You already have assigned housing, don't you? For me, there's no issue under the contract, and Hope is an outsider so it doesn't matter — but that doesn't apply to you, Eclipse."
…Right. That was true. Why did they assign heroes housing in the first place? To station a hero there and market the area as "safe." To drive up building prices and land values. If she simply abandoned that place without warning, then…
"…A manager, or maybe a surveillance team, would come check."
Which would spawn a whole new set of problems. So.
"You'll either need to negotiate with PAX officially to vacate the housing, or stay here unofficially. It has to be one of the two."
Hajun laid out her options without missing a beat.
"…You're not turning me down outright, huh?"
"I know perfectly well how shady and unpleasant the housing PAX provides can be."
"…Heh."
"And more importantly, I can't allow long-term residence until the magical security is complete."
"So you'll take me in, but you're putting me to work?"
"It's the twenty-first century. You give something to get something, don't you? That's partly why I made the offer to you — as a specialist in the magical field."
"…."
Eclipse stared hard at Hajun as he spoke. Even now, he didn't waver. That consistent, almost manic sense of purpose and conviction — it was still on full display, undiluted.
"What if I design the security magic and then steal the information?"
So Eclipse smiled slyly and stepped closer to him.
"I could hand everything about this place over to PAX and pocket the profit myself, couldn't I?"
Words meant to test him. Of course, she thought of it as a "test," but it was really a defense mechanism born of her inability to trust people. Whether Hajun recognized that or not, he answered her question with natural ease.
"I trust you."
"…You trust me?"
"Yes. You wouldn't do that. At the very least, you are not someone who would sell me — or this place — to PAX."
"…."
Infuriating. But… interesting. That was what Eclipse thought as she looked at him.
"…Fine. I'll do it."
"You're saying you'll proceed with the contract?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"Then… here. A pen."
Eclipse looked down at the contract Hajun held out. Reading his terms again — the ones she'd already heard — felt strangely fresh. PAX contracts were always wrapped in flashy language, and it was always about the money: support, protection, brand value, public appeal, salary, and so on. But this contract, unlike anything from PAX, was dry to the point of austerity.
…I'll watch. I'll see how long you can stay that color.
Eclipse liked that about it, deep down, but she didn't say so out loud. The moment she put it into words, she felt her pride would crumble.
"…'Eclipse.' You don't have to write your hero name, you know."
"Hero name, nothing. It's the mage name I gave myself when I was learning magic. …PAX just uses it."
Eclipse. The name she had chosen herself. Seeing it written cleanly on the contract, she felt — strangely — as if her breathing had grown a little lighter.
…It's because I'm a mage. That's all. Because I'm a mage.
A mage was a being who observed and investigated. So this was nothing more than the thrill of getting to observe that incomprehensible white from the closest possible vantage. At least, that was what she decided to believe.
"…Well then. Excellent. Please begin work immediately."
"R-right now?"
"Yes. When it comes to security, the sooner the better."
Hajun issued the instruction to Eclipse, then turned his gaze elsewhere. His eyes found the TV.
…That attention-seeking bastard. About time he showed up.
Right now… he was waiting for his prey.
At the same time.
The event venue in central Manhattan, hosted by PAX Corporation, was packed with a massive crowd. A giant stage. Enormous display screens. PAX logos blanketing the building's exterior walls. And at the center of it all, two heroes basking in the cheers from the stage.
"Look this way, please!"
"Great America!"
"Napalm! Just wave once!"
Great America and Napalm.
—Click, click——!!
Camera flashes went off in rapid succession.
"Hey, everyone—!"
Napalm smiled with practiced ease. She waved, turned her head, angled her body just the way the reporters wanted. That was what a professional did, and she was a professional.
But lately, the certainty she'd always had in that word — professional — had started to waver, bit by bit.
…What the hell has that bastard been up to lately.
Ryu Hajun. That Korean hero hadn't been showing up at scenes much recently. Not that he'd vanished completely. Whenever she messaged him first, he still sent back a flood of replies.
Stiff. Commanding. Infuriatingly precise. And yet, strangely, whenever those messages stopped even for a little while… something about it hurt.
Does he figure I can handle things on my own now?
Well, if that were the case, it would be a good thing. It would mean Hajun trusted her. That he no longer saw her as an unstable bomb.
But.
What if he just… stopped caring?
…The thought alone sent a faint ache crawling up through her fingertips. Her smile, of course, did not crack. It couldn't. The cameras were on her — on them — right now.
And beside her, Great America was waving as well. Slow and steady, so even ordinary people could see her clearly.
"…."
She, too, had grown used to this kind of cheering by now. How many pests had she cleaned up across New York? She still had a long way to go before becoming the true "Symbol of America" that PAX talked about. Even so, she knew full well that some people had already started calling her that.
So the crowds chanting her name. The cameras trained on her. The emcee introducing her in that exaggerated voice. All of it was a familiar sight by now.
…Hah. Boring as hell.
But none of it meant anything. Because for Great America, other things lingered far more vividly in her memory than any cheer.
It's thanks to you waiting that this ended as cleanly as it did.
Nothing to criticize today.
Smile. You're the Symbol of America.
Jun's… voice. Strangely, every time she heard it, she flinched. Her chest would tickle, and the words would lodge themselves deeper in her ears. Lately, the chances to hear that voice had dwindled. She knew he was out securing a base, of course. But unfortunately, her schedule had been packed, and she hadn't been able to see him.
Or.
…Maybe he simply no longer needed to see her.
…Ah.
Her emotions surged. Why couldn't life ever go the way she wanted? Was it so hard for him to just stay by her side? Who the hell was that outside technician of his, anyway?
A flood of questions and a thin undercurrent of rage. But… the thought that Hajun might be watching her from somewhere forced her, little by little, to rein in her feelings and impulses.
That was when it happened.
"You haven't seen Jun lately either, right?"
Napalm moved only her lips, her smiling face unchanged. Great America answered while still facing forward.
"…I have."
"What? Where?"
"On my phone."
"…Okay, so you 'saw' him."
Great America fell silent for a moment. Then, a little more slowly:
"I had photos saved."
Napalm opened her mouth to reply, then shut it.
This girl is seriously not right in the head. Looking at photos she took on her phone counts as seeing him?
It was a weird answer. But hearing it made her realize she'd "seen" him in messages too, hadn't she? And that thought only made her more annoyed with herself.
—Zzzt.
The massive display screen at the center of the venue began to flicker.
"…Huh?"
At first, it looked like a simple broadcast error. The PAX promotional video froze, and thin noise crawled across the screen. The emcee seemed to think the same, continuing in a voice thick with fluster.
"Ah, we're experiencing a brief technical—"
—Thud.
But when the display went black—
"W-what the…?"
"What's wrong with that thing?"
—the people, and both heroes as well… felt that something was off.
And at the same time.
—Clap.
—Clap.
—Clap.
Across the entire vast venue, a slow, measured sound of applause began to ring out.
"……."
The crowd's cheers gradually died away.
"…What the hell is that?"
Napalm's smile vanished.
"…I don't know."
Great America's hand stopped as well.
And then, in the center of the black screen, white letters began to appear.
No ornamentation of any kind — only stark white text remaining on the screen.
"How truly unfortunate. There are… no suitable actors here."
The moment she heard the voice that followed, Napalm instinctively began drawing flames to her fingertips.
"But that's all right. If the understudies are excellent enough, the stage can go on as long as it needs to."
"…Director."
Napalm… knew that presence.
"Is that the one? The guy Hajun mentioned?"
Great America asked Napalm with a puzzled expression.
"W-what the hell is that?"
"Is this part of the PAX event too?"
"J-just film it! I don't know what it is, but get everything!"
The surroundings stirred. Reporters kept their cameras raised. PAX security officers exchanged radio chatter, but no clear orders came through. Naturally, the civilians still couldn't decide whether to run or keep watching.
Even that chaos seemed to be exactly what the Director had intended — and in that instant.
—Zzzt.
Static crackled through both of their earpieces at once, and both of them froze mid-motion.
"From this moment on, follow my instructions."
Ryu Hajun's voice came through.