A shrill ringing cut the night. I groaned. What time was it, even? Still dark. Still quiet. I fumbled for my alarm clock. Three-seventeen.
Who. The fuck. Would call at this hour?
I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear. I stretched and muttered a quick “hello.”
“Is this Gekkou Hisuke?” the man on the line asked.
“It is.”
“This is Lieutenant Vass, from Fernelle City.”
I snapped awake. “Who gave you this number?”
“There’s a situation he-.”
“Not interested.”
“The mayor is willing to suspend-.”
“No,” I growled. “And don’t call again.”
I slammed the phone onto the receiver and settled back into my blankets. Admittedly, some part of me did want to know what that was about. The rest of me didn’t want to deal with it. The phone rang again, and I growled. Still, I picked it up.
“Hello,” I said, more annoyed than last time, if possible.
“Hisuke, I-.”
“Oh, my gods. Vass. I don’t care. I just don’t fucking care,” I said. “I’m banished, remember? Exiled.”
“Mayor Bro-.”
“I said no.”
I flung the phone at the wall. I heard Vass plead with me for a moment. Not loud enough to understand. Also, I didn’t care. I bit one of my pillows. In retrospect, I should have stayed longer at the bar. I could have slept through this whole-
I jolted upright when the phone rang again. I stared at it in horror. Then someone coughed.
My blood ran cold. I turned to the source of the cough. A young man. Feathery, white hair. Eyes dancing in amusement. He grinned and pointed at my phone.
“You gonna get that?” he asked.
My hand wrapped around the device and held it to my ear.
“Hisuke speaking,” I said, mouth dry.
“Lieutenant Vass tells me you won’t take his calls,” a woman said.
Something sparked in my head. I knew that voice.
“Lizzy?” I asked.
“It’s Mayor Brown, now. Listen, I want to go back to bed, and I’m sure you do, too, so I’ll make this quick,” she said sternly. “We had a caravan today. They dropped a live one.”
My jaw dropped. The man in my room sat down on my bed and lit a cigarette.
“They don’t do that. What did you do?” I asked him.
He shrugged, but Lizzy answered.
“It’s not the first time, remember?” she said. “I don’t know why. I’m not a certified detective. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“Oh, I’m still certified?” I asked in amusement. “I thought that got revoked. You know, considering the whole exile thing.”
“If you can help us with him, I’ll end your sentence. Please, Gekkou. You’re the only one who has any idea what he’s been through.”
“Hell, Lizzy. He’s been through hell,” I said.
“Honestly, that might be true. He should be dead.”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
“I can’t,” I said.
“I understand. But I don’t know anyone equipped to handle his trauma once he leaves the hospital. You are,” Lizzy said.
I sighed again and repeated, “No, I can’t. I’m barely handling my own trauma. There’s nothing in Fernelle City for us but pain.”
“Just consider it. Okay?”
“Fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you. Now get some rest, Gekkou.”
This time, she hung up first. I let the phone just… slip out of my hand. The smoking man rolled his eyes, picked it up, and returned it to its place for me. He took a deep breath and straightened his suit.
“Gekkou,” he said sternly. “There is a little boy who needs you, and you want time to think about that?”
“I don’t want to go back there, Soragi.”
He leaned into my face.
“Too. Bad,” he told me. “I need you in Fernelle City. Now.”
I flopped back into my bed with a groan and covered my face with a pillow.
“Oh, gods, just let me sleep…” I grumbled.
“Sorry, I’m the only god available at the moment. Please leave your message at the tone. Beeeeep.”
“Fuck off.”
“Tempting!” he said with a grin. “But no. I have a big bet riding on you and that boy, so I need-”
“You what?!”
I jumped out of bed and glared at Soragi. He pouted and shrugged.
“Hegyo started it. She-.”
“You made a bet with Hegyo?!”
“I had to get him away from her, Gekkou. And Stella.”
“Ugh! Of course Stella’s involved!”
“Look, if I win this bet, I can punish her. For everything.”
I grumbled and stormed out of the room.
“Where are you going?” asked Soragi.
“I’m not getting back to sleep,” I growled. “Might as well get coffee.”
“So you’ll go back?” he asked, following me into the kitchen.
“Dunno. Harvest is coming up here,” I replied. “Tammy’s got friends-.”
He snorted. “No, she doesn’t. She’s an outcast here. You just don’t see it because you don’t want to.”
How they look at her? I filled the coffee maker and turned it on.
"No one looks at her differently. She’s lived here her whole life. They know her.”
“Oh, please. Most of them worship Misezu or Jinori. But you two? You’re bound to me. You don’t belong.”
“Fine. We don’t belong here. Doesn’t matter. There’s still nothing in Fernelle City worth going back for,” I grumbled.
Soragi gawked. He looked a bit like a stunned parrot for a moment.
“There’s a kid there who needs you, the only person who has the slightest idea of what he’s been through. Do you really need more than that to go back?”
“Not great with kids,” I groaned. “Even Tammy says that, and she’s mine.”
“You owe me.”
“When I’m dead. Until then, you can fuck off. I’m a free man.”
“Okay, okay. I do have one more thing that might change your mind.”
I snorted and watched the slow drip of the coffee. “Doubt it. I don’t make deals any-”
He opened his jacket and pulled out a thin metal stick. I froze.
“Is that-?” I breathed.
“A summoning whistle, yes,” he said with a smile. “Her summoning whistle.”
I reached for it, but Soragi pulled it back. I glared at him.
“You bastard. You just… let her sign her soul away?”
“She wanted to help, and it was a good deal!” He tapped his temple and said, “Not many of your kind see the past and future. Buuuuut, if there’s no reason to go back to Fernelle City, I guess there’s no reason to give it to you.”
Bastard!
“Contract.”
He put the whistle away.
“Oh, no, no. You don’t make deals anymore.”
I sputtered. “Fine! One more! I’ll do one more. Just… Please.”
He smirked again. “You’re lucky, Gekkou. I like you. Let me see what I can do.”
I paced outside Tammy's room. Brain rattling. Hands twitching. Was this a good idea? Doubt. Fear. Trauma. All good reasons to stay here. Weren't they? With a sigh, I tapped on her door.
I heard a groan and knocked again softly.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. One minute.”
After an impatient moment, Tammy's door opened. My little girl, a young me, really, stood in the doorframe. She rubbed those violet eyes of hers, like mine, still drowsy from the night and smoothed her near-black hair.
“Hey, Daddy,” she yawned. “Woah. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Some. I made you breakfast.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What do you mean, ‘uh-oh?’"
“When you make breakfast, it's because something bad happened,” she said, rubbing her chin. “Did you get fired again?”
“No, nothing like that. But…,” I sighed. “We do need to talk.”
“Did I get fired?”
“Tammy, do you want food or not?”
She raised her hands and relented, following me to the kitchen. I’d laid out a breakfast feast for us. Rice, eggs, bacon, two-inch-thick pancakes. She shot a worried glance at me.
“Who died?”
“Nobody,” I promised. “Lately.”
I poured us some coffee and passed a cup to her. Then I sat down across the table.
I sighed again. “Are you happy here, Tammy?”
“Sorry?”
“I thought you could grow up here, safe and happy. That you would feel at home,” I said, leaning back. “But you don't, do you?”
“Oh, no! I- I love it here. It's so... quiet,” she trailed off.
“You hate it.”
“Oh, gods, so much, Dad. I've been here my whole life, and I'm still an outsider. I just…” she stabbed at a cake. “I don't belong here, Daddy.”
I nodded and sipped my coffee. Had I really never noticed? Was she really so miserable here? I thought this was the right place for us to hide, I really did.
“Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“Fernelle City.”
I chuckled. “Didn't even have to think, did you?”
“I have friends there,” she told me. “And, well, it’s Mom’s home.”
These friends…,” I breathed. “Are they like you?”
“Uuuuh, what?”
“I know you're contracted to Soragi. Is it safe to assume that, considering you never told me,” I said, “it's personal?”
“Very personal,” she said with a nervous chuckle.
“And you feel more comfortable talking to them? They help you?”
“I'd be lost without them, Dad. Oh, gods, I was so confused and scared… They helped me figure things out. Helped me feel…” Her smile turned genuine as she sought the word. “Human.”
“Alright. I don't want to go back there. But I will. For you.”
“Serious? We're going home?”
“We're going home.”
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