CHAPTER 45: CHAOS JUST CHAOS (PART 2)

CRASH!

A massive crate slammed into the earth two meters beside him, throwing up a wall of dust,

"What the?!" Kestrel shouted, frantically squinting his eyes to get a better look at the source of the rumbling.

From the treeline, Shogo appeared with a mask on, casually eating a rice ball with one hand, the other holding a golf club like a baseball bat.

"YO YO YO YOO," He said through a mouthful. "Drone season’s open."

Kestrel backed up, his voice shaken from surprise. "You! Who are you?"

Shogo smiled, though it couldn’t be seen.

"Your creepy little recon op ends now," he said, pointing at him with the rice ball. "I know Serica’s pretty, but damn, have some restraint, brother." He took another bite of the rice ball before continuing, mouth full. "Hand over the drone and maybe I’ll let you go..."

Kestrel smirked. "I’m just sightseeing. Photography isn’t illegal." He took a step back, fully aware escape was impossible.

"Oh?" Shogo’s grin widened. "Maybe we’ll find out if launching you into orbit is illegal, too. Besides, you might get a better view from up there!" He chuckled mischievously.

"Tch," Kestrel muttered, making a dash for the treeline.

"Oh, no, you don’t!" Shogo called out, his mouth still full of food, laughter bubbling up.

*

Kentaro sat on a bench in the "Soundscape" room. Wind chimes played from one side, ocean waves from another. Kira sat beside him, quietly sipping a coffee Yumi had handed her at the entrance, like it was a martini.

As he sat, he noticed that Kira wasn’t her usual chatty self. Calling her ’chatty’ might have been an overstatement, as she usually did more stalking than talking, but she seemed even quieter than normal during the rest of their time at the museum.

"You’ve been quiet," Kentaro said awkwardly.

"I’m listening." She replied instantly.

"To what?" Kentaro replied with a confused look. There was a brief silence as he strained to listen to his surroundings, but it was quiet, except for Yumi, who seemed to be screaming at her cup.

She didn’t meet his eyes, her gaze lingering on his chest as a slight smirk played at her lips. "Your heartbeat," she said without blinking. "It speeds up when I lean in."

She leaned in.

Kentaro nearly fell off the bench.

"Wha-" He shouted as he caught himself.

"You okay?" she asked, deadpan.

"Y-yeah," he wheezed. "G-great acoustics in here."

Kira smiled. "Next time... let’s go somewhere darker, so there is no chance of eyes lingering on us"

Kentaro choked on his spit again, his face went red as he didn’t reply, just did his best to let out a small chuckle, fully knowing that Kira was most likely being serious.

Through the commns, Shogo whispered, his voice seemed a bit out of breath:

"Kenny boy... You’re not just on a date. You’re on the edge."

*

On the other side of the island, tucked between the arcade and the shore, Serica sat quietly on a bench, alone now. Her legs were crossed. Her eyes were distant.

The cone in her hand, once overflowing with strawberry swirl, had melted into a sorry state.

"Oh, Ken..." she whispered, lowering her gaze to the lonely cone. "I hope you’re not too ill... I really wanted to keep going." Her eyes lingered on the cone for a moment longer before she took a determined bite, as if the cone itself had offended her.

Suddenly, like a character from an anime, she jumped up, her eyes bright with excitement.

"I’ll check on him!" she declared with a hopeful leap. "He must be at the infirmary!"

Within seconds, the cone was devoured in two bites like a predator swallowing its kill, and without cleaning her face, she darted off toward the hotel.

Back in the comms room aboard the ship, Shogo was lying upside-down in his chair, eating chocolate cake with a fork he definitely didn’t clean.

"Oh noooo~" he cried out, voice dramatic as ever. "Her love sickness has reached critical mass! We’re gonna need a Kentaro-shaped cure, stat!"

Haruka, deadpan as always, replied without looking up from her screen.

"Indeed. She may combust emotionally. Possibly take out half the hotel. Return Kentaro to her. ASAP."

*

Meanwhile, Kentaro and Kira had wandered into a quiet garden plaza near the museum, settling under a white awning by the fountain. Their date continued, still awkward as ever.

As they strolled and glanced around, Kira suddenly turned to him and asked, "How big is it?"

"W-what?!" Kentaro jolted, nearly flipping a nearby table in his shock at her unexpected and seemingly explicit question.

Kira frowned, puzzled. "How big is your house?"

Kentaro clutched his chest. "Ah. Right. Of course. That’s what you meant. Totally..."

He cleared his throat. "I live in a small apartment. One bedroom. Tiny bathroom. Horrible neighbours."

Kira gave a sly little smile.

"I know all that."

Kentaro blinked. "Wait... what?"

"I said I know all that," she repeated, calmly sipping her water.

Kentaro’s face went pale. "How?"

She didn’t answer. Just looked at him with that same faint, unreadable smirk. The kind that said either I’m joking... or I’m dead serious.

Kentaro began to panic. His thoughts raced to Cradle, to the Alberlines.

He leaned back in his seat, his voice uneasy, doing his best not to sound too suspicious. "So, uh... why did you even ask?"

She leaned forward. "Because I wanted to know why you and th-"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Before she could even finish her sentence, Kentaro collapsed to the ground, clutching both ears like someone had jammed a firecracker in his skull. The sudden banshee-like shriek across the comms had short-circuited his soul.

"KENNNNNNTAAAARRRRROOOOOOOO!!!"

Shogo’s voice blasted in, half static, half cake eaten.

"CODE RED!! REPEAT! CODE RED!!! SHE’S ON THE MOOOOOVE! SERICA IS OUT OF HER BENCHING PHASE!! HER LOVE LEVELS HAVE SURPASSED THE STRATOSPHERE!! WE NEED EVAC!!!"

Haruka’s voice followed, completely calm in contrast:

"Deploying escape protocol: Operation Diarrhoea Mirage. Repeat, Operation Diarrhoea Mirage is a go."

"WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THA-AGH!" Kentaro screamed.

Kira blinked. "You appear to be malfunctioning," she said, crouching beside him.

Then, out of nowhere, a man appeared in front of the dying Kentaro and Kira.

"DO NOT WORRY, MA’AM," Shogo shouted. "THIS IS JUST A NATURAL REACTION TO... MILK TEA OVERDOSE. HAPPENS TO ALL THE STRONG MEN!"

He was wearing a fake moustache along with a suit and had some glasses on that were way too small for his head.

"I didn’t give him milk tea," Kira replied, narrowing her eyes.

Shogo stuttered, realising his blunder.

"I-I KNOW! BUT HE WAS DRINKING IT LAST NIGHT AND NOW IT’S CAUGHT UP TO HIM!!!" He shouted like he was in the military.

Kentaro, still writhing on the ground from the auditory war crime Shogo had unleashed via comms, slowly peeked one eye open. His ears still rang, but the world had stopped spinning.

He blinked up.

"What the hell...?" he croaked.

In front of him stood Shogo, only now in a full waiter’s tuxedo, fake moustache barely hanging on, sweat dripping like a broken faucet.

Kira’s eyes narrowed. Dangerously.

She took a small step forward, arms folding, voice flat, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"...Who exactly are you to Kentaro?"

Shogo froze. His pupils dilated like a deer that had just remembered it left the stove on.

Shogo began to sweat hearing those words.

"I-I-I AM, A FRIEND- NO, AN EMPLOYEE WHO RETRIVES SICK PEOPLE! Mr. Tachibana sent me! He feared Kentaro’s tummy might explode from severe emotional indigestion!!"

The lie spilt out like a water balloon full of bad choices.

Kira stared. Judging. Calculating.

Her eyes shifted to Kentaro, still doubled over and groaning.

There was silence. Shogo felt as though he were awaiting sentencing for committing a heinous crime.

"...Fine," she said at last, but her voice was tight. "But how long will he be gone for? I was enjoying this date."

Shogo’s face brightened like a man who’d survived execution by karaoke.

He saluted so hard his fake moustache almost flew off.

"NOT LONG, MISS! I SWEAR ON MY DIGNITY, AND THAT ONE TIME I ACCIDENTALLY ENJOYED BEING STEPPED ON, WE SHALL RETURN HIM POSTHASTE!"

Before she could ask what that meant, Shogo grabbed Kentaro by the collar like a sack of potatoes and began dragging him away with zero grace.

"NOT AGAAAINNNNNNN!!!" Kentaro cried as his legs flailed and scraped uselessly against the path, his voice echoing across the forest.

Behind the bushes, away from Kira’s vision, a delivery scooter made from two shopping carts duct-taped together zoomed across the gravel. Shogo stood in the back, blowing a plastic horn.

"ALL ABOARD THE PAIN TRAIN!! NEXT STOP: NOT HERE!" Shogo shouted as they were running to Haruka, who was riding, and adjusted her glasses.

"Jump in. We’ve got thirty seconds before Serica rounds the corner."

Kentaro scrambled into the cart, holding his stomach.

"Why does it smell like expired garlic and regret?!"

Shogo winked. "I marinated your seat in kimchi and tuna. That’s the secret to authentic distraction!"

"OH GOD WHY."

Kira stood there, having seen what had just unfolded; she didn’t know what to say or do.

All she knew was some random moustache man who looked familiar to the statue she had seen in the museum, took Kentaro away, and said he’ll be back.

She stood there for a second before sitting back down on the bench, waiting for the return of her lover...