32.2B: 《A》Diagnosed With [Em/Ideo]pathy

^{a/n: chapter is best read on desktop}

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Is this something,
that needs,
forgiven?

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“Did you know that plants are capable of communicating with each other? They say that certain plants are even able to identify their ‘siblings.’ A language without words… I wonder…”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“My, my, Monsieur Stein, do Capricornians accentuate every sentence with a vulgarity or is that a personal choice?”

Atienna glanced back at the two men who accompanied her. If she did not know them and perhaps if she were not Atienna Imamu, she would’ve quickened her pace away from them. Even though Renee held all the elegance in the world in just his pinky, the way the street lamps twisted the shadows of the night across his face made him seem sinister. The effect was tenfold for Derik.

Atienna rather appreciated the stroll. It happened in lieu of all the buses being shut down due to the lateness of the hour, but she much preferred it this way.

“One, it’s my personal choice, you pretentious asshole. Two, it’s a fucking valid question.”

Renee hummed. “I suppose it is valid, as you say. There are more pressing matters to discuss such as—” his tone lost its lightness— “is it truly wise for us to engage with this alleged saint candidate when Madame Myosotis and Monsieur Sefu are not with us?”

“It can’t be helped, don’t you think?” Atienna replied. “Shion has her hands tied with wrapping up Nuru’s interrogation and investigation and Sefu is still recovering from his injuries.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “Are you worried, Monsieur LeBlanc, that we will not be able to handle this on our own?”

“You a pussy?” Derik added with a sneer.

Renee smiled politely, unoffended. “There’s nothing wrong with a little caution, no?” After a while, he said, “You, on the other hand, seem to be a bit excited—especially without those two here.”

“Ah… Why would you think that?”

“Personal experience, my dear.”

Ndoto University’s campus loomed ahead of them. The many buildings that dotted its grounds which had appeared so scholarly and elegant and full of life in the morning now seemed desolate, empty, gothic.

Atienna felt rather drawn to the liminality. A place that should be full of happenings but was instead devoid of even a whisper. Something about that duality seemed fitting for Ndoto. 

They approached the bulletin board in front of the university’s student center. Several color fliers were pinned, stapled, taped to the board as well as newspaper clippings featuring accomplishments of faculty and students.

Atienna peeled each one of these off, pin by pin, staple by staple, and tossed them to the side. The flutter of the sheets and the tap, taps of the pins hitting the ground were the only sound for a while. 

After half of it all was removed, the main feature of the bulletin board became revealed—the campus map.

“‘Our meeting place is the building where creations come to life,’” Atienna repeated Nuru’s words thoughtfully, “‘at Ndoto University, the gate to knowledge.’”

“On Tuesdays at dawn and Thursdays at twilight, apparently,” Renee mused.

“You couldn’t beat a more direct answer out of the bastard?” Derik grumbled.

Atienna glanced at Derik and smiled. “Ah, don’t you remember, Derik? It wasn’t violence that pushed Nuru to disclose his meeting location with the copycat to us.” She faced the bulletin board and tapped on a spot at the center of the map. “Here…”

***

The Kioo Art Display Building rested on top of a hefty hill that took ten minutes to traverse. Next came the arduous task of climbing the stretch of white stairs to the building’s entrance.

Atienna was not as breathless as she thought she would be when they reached the top. Derik, despite being rather breathless himself, pushed past her and threw open the doors to the building.

Inside was a long dimly-lit linoleum hall that stretched out to the east and to the west. Every meter or so on each end, the wall opened up to a small square room that hosted something peculiar at its center. In one room it was an ornate vase, in another a painting of some sort, and so on and so forth. One particular room just ahead caught Atienna’s attention.

“I’ll go check the west wing.” Derik thumbed down the corridor.

Renee arched a brow. “And, pray tell, what do you believe will happen when you encounter our mysterious slasher?” 

But Derik was already gone.

Renee sighed. “Shall we go after him?”

“You can if you’d like,” Atienna offered with a thin smile. “It would be rather reckless of us to all be in the wrong place for the meeting, don’t you think?”

“What would be more reckless would be being at the meeting place without company, no?”

“You think a saint candidate would harm us?” Atienna inquired. “True Conductors? Necessary components of the syzygy?”

“Was the Ariesian prince not a True Conductor?” Renee returned. “Was he not one of yours?”

Atienna felt something tighten in her chest. “He is closer to his normal self now compared to before after his encounter with the copycat. Would you not want the same for Hilton?”

Renee’s eyes narrowed. “I always want what is best for those close to me, but my preference is for them to take the path of least hardship and resistance. That is the case for everyone, no? I am sure there is a better way to help our companions than to send them to the butcher.”

“And if there’s not?” Atienna asked lightly.

Renee smiled. “The ends still justify the means with you, I see.”

“I wonder… given what’s happened to Nico and Olive, it wouldn’t be too precarious to assume that the copycat cut them down because they believed them to be a ‘root’.” She gestured between them. “If somehow you’re a root or if I’m a root, being cut down would be a small victory, don’t you think? And if not… well, I suppose then we could be first to see whether or not this is a dream.”

Renee’s smile thinned.

Atienna chuckled without covering her mouth. “I appreciate your concern, Monsieur LeBlanc, but I’m only jesting. I’m not suicidal or foolish enough to engage with a saint candidate without proper preparation.”

Renee studied her for a moment before smiling. “I feel like I’ve told you this before but there is no need for formality. You may just call me Renee.” He faced the hall Derik had disappeared down. “I’ll go to see our Capricornian friend now. Don’t wander far now.”

And he was off.

Once Renee was no longer in sight, Atienna approached the room that had caught her eye. There was a plaque to the side of this room’s entrance just like all the other rooms. The plaque here read: Jericho Al-Mahdy.

Inside the room, Atienna found a large black pole standing centrally. Mimicking a tree, it grew roots from its bottom that covered the floor and sprouted branches from its top that stretched across the ceiling. 

She approached the pole and pressed her hand against it. Cold to the touch—before abruptly, it warmed beneath her palm. Pulsating light began emanating from the contact point of her hand and the pole. The light traveled up and down the pole in short bursts of emerald and spread out to the thin roots and branches. 

A peculiar creation—

“Who’s there?”

Atienna followed her guide out the room and out of the building. They crossed the quiet campus with Talib holding most of the conversation. She didn’t mind it. In fact, she was mildly intrigued by this Talib Al-Jarrah and how far away and close she was to the Talib Al-Jarrah she knew.  He was someone dear to Jericho, after all.

A man who made a fool out of himself to placate others. Without pride and without a sense of a need to prove himself or his ideals. It was no wonder he was consumed by Scorpio.

Scorpio.

If Capricorn had managed to slip into Kafke Nezche, couldn’t Scorpio do the same to Talib? That was, if there was any rhyme or reason to the universal laws of this place. She wondered how Gabrielle and Alice especially would react if that occurred. She wondered how her conversation with Scorpio would go this time around.

Eventually they reached the Enyo Concert Hall.

The hall was grand, featuring the same seemingly endless stairs leading to the entrance that the art building had. Inside, Atienna found high ceilings painted with familiar depictions of men and women dancing, playing horns, beating drums. She had seen this style of art many times before in the music halls of her tribe’s capital city.

Talib led her down the east wing of the building and stopped in front of a long line of identical doors that dotted the left-hand side of the wall. 

He pointed to it and said rather dramatically in a low whisper, “It was in there that I had my encounter with Flannery. You see, these doors lead to balconies that oversee the hall’s auditorium and, though it isn’t allowed, many students come here during off-season to study. I myself on that day was one of those students.”

Ah, he thought she was nervous and was trying to reassure her, it seemed.

“My area of study you ask? The Organization! It was just when I’d chosen my area of refuge that I heard—”

A loud crash followed by a high-pitched hum resonated from behind all the closed doors.

“—that exact sound…” Talib paled.

Atienna passed him and pushed open the door. Inside she found a small and open balcony with a small central round table guarded by two green satin chairs. Beyond this was an ivory railing intricately carved with flowers and vines.

Atienna approached the railings and peered over. A large concert hall stretched out below her. Rows of green seats blanketed the ground. They all faced forward towards a central stage with curtains drawn closed. The only light that came down shone on the central stage and its touch barely reached the aisles. 

In that dimness, a sliver of burning light suddenly illuminated the forest of green chairs. Something about the way the light flashed from red to blue to green to white to black to pink felt familiar to Atienna. She had seen that oddity before—

Ah. Right. It had been at the zoo. Back when Olive had set off those firecrackers in that tunnel, a woman with an umbrella had run into Atienna’s arms in fear—just before she was cut down by a blade that emitted that same color. 

The light down below her now burned brighter, revealing the form of its wielder. A figure draped in a green raincoat. Across from that figure, two rows over, and pressed back up against one of the green seats was a duo. A woman wearing a black dress with a suit jacket thrown over her shoulders and a man in a suit missing his suit jacket. The woman, body acting almost like a shield, stood in front of the man. The woman’s dark curls reflected all the colors the blade of light gave off.

That was—

—Cvetka Akulova, wasn’t it? The other man, Atienna did not recognize. For Cvetka to be so vehemently defending and protecting someone other than herself, however, Atienna assumed that the man could only be one person: Astante.

The raincoated-figure lunged forward. Cvetka keeled back, clambering over the seats and dragging Astante with her. The blade’s slashes were relentless, however, and the duo was forced back further and further towards the stage.

“Those two need help!” Talib shouted in a whisper. He stood beside her now, hands gripping the railings. He turned to her, wide-eyed, pale. “We need to—”

Atienna clamped a hand over Talib’s mouth and pulled him back towards the side. Holding tight as he struggled against her, she peered over the edge.

Astante was now completely pressed back against the raised stage. Cvetka was in front of him, acting as a shield. She held no weapon to defend herself against their assailant—their assailant who began to slowly approach them.

Cvetka’s lips moved.

Atienna strained her ears.

“—’s not a root,” Cvetka was saying. “That is what you’re after, aren’t you? I’ll you find it if that’s what you’re looking for. I’ll help you find all the roots—”

Ah, it seemed as if she hadn’t changed. 

But that raincoated person, on the other hand…

A loud scraping sound to Atienna’s left drew her attention away. It was emanating from a balcony just adjacent to hers. 

“Hey, raincoat bitch!” came a familiar shout. “Take this!”

She leaned forward and registered Derik standing on the railings there with a green chair held high above his head. She barely had the time to think ‘oh dear’ before the man hurled the chair down towards the stage.

The raincoated figure leapt backwards as the chair exploded into pieces at the place they once stood. They looked up in Derik’s direction causing Atienna to pull herself and Talib deeper into the shadows. Derik, on the other hand, threw precaution to the wind and jabbed a finger at the raincoated figure—

“You, saint candidate. We need to tal—”

A pale yellow-green flash of light shot out from the darkness beside the raincoated figure and hurtled towards Derik’s head. A shadow tackled Derik to the ground a split second before the light met its target. Renee.

Atienna paid no attention to the men and instead focused on the object that had nearly ended Derik’s life. It was now embedded in the sidewall of the balcony. Its shape was familiar to her. It was a spear. No, not just a spear. Gauging by the way that its tip pulsated, it was clearly a—

“—a conductor…” came Renee’s voice, laced with confusion. “It’s a conducting spear.”

And there was only one person that Atienna knew that could use a conductor here.

Derik abruptly leapt up, ripped the spear out from the wall, and pointed it down at the group there. 

“Derik, wait!” Renee shouted—

—but, as Atienna predicted, it was too late. 

Derik launched himself off the balcony and crashed down into the seats below. He popped up a second later, swinging the spear rather expertly. He squinted into the dark.

A sliver of familiar yellow-green light appeared behind the raincoated-figure, illuminating the figure’s back as well as the wielder’s face. Those sharp eyes and high-cheek bones were undeniable. It was Nia.

Atienna felt something stir in her chest. What was Nia doing here? 

“Wait, wait”—Renee followed Derik down the balcony—albeit more gracefully. His hands were raised but Atienna could tell that he was poised and ready for anything. He approached slowly, stopping only beside Derik when Nia raised her spear warningly. “Please excuse the violence of my friend. He is simple and tends to shoot before he thinks—”

Derik sneered at him. “Watch it—”

“We only want to talk.” Renee nodded at Nia. “You’re a Virgoan, aren’t you? You wouldn’t have happened to see Atienna while passing by here, have you?”

“Atienna…?” Nia repeated in confusion, sharing a look with her companion.

Her voice stirred something wistful in Atienna’s chest. As interesting as it would be to see everything unfold from her perch, she decided it would be better to face this herself. They had a numbers advantage here. That and Nia…

Atienna released Talib and scaled down the balcony with practiced ease. She landed deftly on the ground below her and brushed herself off. Preparing a soft smile on her face, she looked up and paused. 

Nia was staring at her, eyes narrowed, body tense.

It took a moment for Atienna to find her words— “Nia, it’s you, isn’t it?” 

Nia shared a look with the raincoated-figure and tightened her grip on her spear. The icy gaze made Atienna feel rather faint.

Derik inched closer, approaching the duo from the left. Renee glanced at the man before approaching the duo from the right. Ah, an unspoken strategy it seemed.

“Nia,” Atienna tried again, thinking of what to say, how to get her feelings across. Words truly were never enough were they? “I’ve been worried about—”

Nia abruptly swung her leg out just as Derik neared her while simultaneously swinging her spear out at Renee. The force of the kick flung Derik directly in Atienna’s direction. She slipped quickly to the side, however, and Derik crashed into the chair just beside her. She looked up and noted two things—Renee had managed to dodge the swing of Nia’s spear and Nia and the raincoated-figure were no longer where they once stood. No—now they were dashing up the aisle right past her.

Nia led, her hand gripping the raincoated-figure’s wrist.

Nia—was she being blackmailed…? Whatever the case, now that Atienna was closer to them, she could confirm her suspicions that the raincoated person could not be Libra. Their vitae was not that familiar pink hue nor were they the same height as Flannery Caertas. Not only that but their entire demeanor was different—body language, movements, everything.

A third party.

Curious. 

Atienna launched herself forward, grabbing the raincoated figure by their legs. The figure toppled over and Atienna wrestled them into submission—at least she tried to. Just as she was about to drag the raincoated figure in a headlock and pull their hood off, their fist sailed towards her head. She barely had the time to raise her arm to block it and in the process lost her grip on them. Before she knew it, she was flipped over herself, pinned, and being guided into a very familiar headlock.

Something clattered onto the ground beside them in their scuffle.

Atienna grimaced as she felt the raincoated figure’s arms squeeze around her neck and squinted blearily up into the shadow of their face. Their eyes met. Atienna’s heart hammered furiously. Their dark eyes widened. 

Familiarity—

Their grip slackened. Atienna used the opportunity to use her body as an axle and flip her target-turned-assailant onto their back. With effort, she pinned their arms above their head and peered past the shadows that obscured their face—

Was that…?

—something collided with Atienna’s chest and she was sent sailing backwards breathless. She stumbled back cradling her stomach as it throbbed and looked up just in time to see Nia lower her foot.  

Nia’s eyes softened just slightly when they met each other’s gazes before they hardened again. The guard grabbed a hold of the raincoated-person’s wrist and darted out the hall. Atienna tried after them but the pain throbbing in her abdomen gave her pause. 

Cvetka was beside her now. Renee too. Derik was just picking himself off the ground and scrambling after the retreating duo. While Renee’s gaze was focused on her back and Derik’s on the escapees, Cvetka’s gaze was locked into an object at Atienna’s feet. The item the raincoated person had dropped earlier.

Cvetka darted forward.

Atienna darted forward as well, reaching the fallen item first and stomping her foot on it just as Cvetka was within arms reach of it. They locked eyes for a moment before Atienna bent down and picked the object up.

It was a hilt without a blade with glass tubing at its center. A familiar thing she had not seen in a long time. 

Ah.

“Fuck!” Derik stomped back towards them from the doorway. “They’re gone.”

Atienna’s heart stirred momentarily at the thought of the raincoated person and Nia together before a familiar calm took over her. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Derik. That’s not the saint candidate we’re looking for.”

Renee turned to her with a frown.

“Then who the fuck are they?”

“Someone who is also searching for the roots, I suppose,” Atienna deduced, locking eyes with Cvetka. “Am I right, Cvetka?”

The woman’s lightless eyes narrowed but she procured a smile. “I suppose so.” She glanced shyly at Renee. “I’m grateful… for you all stepping in…”

“And how exactly did you end up in this position to begin with, Miss Cvetka Akulova?” Renee inquired. “It’s quite unusual to be out somewhere like this at this hour, isn’t it? Perhaps you’re engaging in your usual line of work?”

Ah, he knew.

Something flickered in Cvetka’s eyes.

“Wait a damned minute.” Derik stiffened and jabbed a finger at Cvetka. “You’re that Aquarian bitch who had it in for the swindler at the border. I should gut you alive—”

“H-Hey! Don’t talk to Cvetka like that!” The man—Astante—that Cvetka had been so vehemently throwing herself in front of now threw himself between her and Derik. “I don’t get what’s going on but we almost all died, didn’t we?” He looked back at Cvetka. “Shouldn’t we be going to a guidance officer about this?”

Atienna pondered this, turning over the object in her hands. The object began drawing the gazes of those around her. “I wonder—”

“What is that?”

“What’s… going on here…?”

Atienna looked up at the sudden intrusion.

In the threshold of the concert hall’s main door stood a familiar man. His glasses were round, his face pale, his arms full of books.

It was Klaus Kleine, arriving at an inopportune moment. 

Although Atienna was not close with him, she could not help but feel that false sense of kindredness she had felt towards him during the Week of Blindness once again. Even though their distance was not of the same flavor, even though he did not understand her, even though he was not as precious to her as the others, his sincerity and intellect had been rather curious. Of all the people in Werner’s unit, it was to him that Atienna had felt ‘the closest.’ Would he tense when he saw the real her as well? Or would he understand?

Atienna wondered—

“There’s nothing to word about, Klaus,” she said with a faint smile. “I promise.”

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