Neon District: Redux

Part Three Chapter Four: The Rise of Mr. Propaganda

       "After all this time I never once thought about if you were capable of swimming," Yuka said as her greeting, taking a seat on a bar stool next to Eiji, "but I guess you do have that capability after all."

       Eiji chuckled softly at that. "And I thought you weren't capable of keeping me alive, but here we are speaking with each other right now." 

       She almost forgot about that day. The night at the river when she was supposed to kill Eiji per Manzo's orders- and per her own desires. Although, she only shot him in the shoulder and sent him into the river. She remembered how pitiful he looked that day and seeing him now only made that feeling blossom again.

       He appeared as if he hadn't eaten or bathed in some days, but he kept that same demeanor he normally had back when he held all the power in the District. Seeing how that hadn't faded despite his current situation swiftly changed her pity into guilt.

       "I wondered why you would bother leaving me in such a convenient place such as Ash Town after I discovered myself being washed up on its shores,"  Eiji started, tapping the tip of his cigarette with his slim finger; the ash falling into the gaping hole of a plastic cup. "It was after a few drinks and a long walk later that I realized you left me here to stop procrastinating and finish my mission." He swiped his hand around the small bar as if he displayed it to a crowd of onlookers. "I think I told you once about what I planned on doing for this town, but I believe you were too busy focusing on that burning hatred for me to fully grasp what I meant by it- " he continued on before getting interrupted abruptly by Yuka.

       "I understood what you meant by it completely. The only thing I was focusing on back then after that conversation was thinking about how sorry you looked," she defended, spinning herself in her bar stool to face him. "Don't try to think of me as nothing more than a brooding teenager."

       "I wasn't trying to make you out as such," his voice became quieter and she swore her mind was playing tricks on her when he said: "I'm sorry."

       Her old enemy, her old boss, Mr. Propaganda was apologizing to her over something so simple. It made her want to laugh. Except she simply waved off his apology and motioned for him to continue on his psychological tirade.

       Eiji smeared the edge of the plastic cup with his finished cigarette and stared into the chipped wood of the bar as if his inner demons laid in the polish of the wood. "I always thought that this town needed someone of political value to help them- to save them from whatever hell they've been living in this entire time. But after spending the past two years here and living amongst them once more, did I realize that they didn't need any political influence. They just needed someone willing to lend them a hand in their journey to saving themselves." 

       "Why are you telling me this?" was all Yuka replied with. What else could she had said?

       He glanced back up at Yuka with surprised eyes and chuckled softly to himself. "Sorry. It's just been a while since I was able to talk about things like this."

     She folded her arms over her chest with a pout. "Couldn't you have talked to any of those you are helping?"

       "No. I wasn't about to subject any of them to that. None of them would have understood and some might've even saw me as some sort of monster," Eiji told her, a weary smile etched on his lips.

       "Yet you subjected me to it," she scoffed.

      That smile never reached his eyes. "Only because I knew you would understand. I did tell you about my childhood back when you told me yours." He turned himself around in his bar stool to come face to face with Yuka and sighed deeply. "We are like two lines that parallel each other- going in the same direction but never meeting."