Jailbreak

Chapter 9: Raven

I scowl as I sip at my foul-tasting coffee from my NO.1 KEEPER! mug I got from General Sedge for my birthday 2 years ago. Is it my imagination, or does it taste worse than usual? I can't help but tut my tongue in annoyance.

I am currently sitting in this small, cold, sterile room I use as my office. There's nothing here except for my wooden desk - messy with all the blank sheets of documents I have to fill out - in the corner, my desk chair, and a few other chairs, for my guests. There is no such thing as comfort in this room - I am only supposed to do work here, nothing else. That is why everything is so cold in here. Ice cold, just like myself.

My eyes fall onto my hands gripping the mug. The hands of a murderer. The hands of a cold-blooded man who ended an innocent life. I am no different from those three keepers - Sedge, Shade, and Blaze - who killed my mother all those years ago. Ironically, I have followed the footsteps of the the three keepers I swore never to become like.

"Argh!" I bang my fist onto the table, making the mug jerk and spill half its contents onto the table and the documents. But I don't take any notice as I scream in piercing cries of agony, standing out of my chair and flinging the mug across the room with all the power I have. The cup smashes against the wall of my office with a loud shatter, sending tiny pieces of broken ceramic in every direction and littering the ground. Coffee dribbles down the wall onto the floor, no doubt making a permanent mark on the wall paper.

But who cares? The blood that stain my hands are the worse kind of fluid anyone could have as an eternal streak. Coffee is nothing compared to this.

It is everything I can do to prevent myself from collapsing onto the ground when my legs give way under me. I slump onto my chair, squeezing my eyes shut and burying my head in my arms over the desk.

This is all his fault. All his, not mine! If he hadn't given me that letter... I wouldn't have read it... and none of this would have happened.

Suddenly, unsettling vivid memories from three days ago - the day I saw him, and the day I killed that innocent girl- flash behind my closed eyelids. I pull my arms tighter around my head, trying to stop those disturbing images infest my mind, but it's no use.

It was like any other day I'd been living for the past 5 years- 'patrolling' the city in tow of the junior keepers that joined the team after me, silently watching as they amused themselves by hurling insults and inflicting violence upon the citizens. I did not join them - nothing would make me torture the citizens who already had enough on their plates, without keepers ruining their lives - but I did not try to stop them either. I just stood there, and watched. Let the juniors do what they want - it was a waste of time to stop them, I knew they would go back at it anyways when I wasn't watching. I could use the time instead wisely, filling piles of document sheets, making necessary investigations, checking for any crime within the Dome. A keeper never had time to rest. The citizens could look after themselves. They weren't livestock, for goodness sake.

It was just when I had split ways with the juniors - them carrying on with their 'patrol', I returning back for the headquarters to finish the paperwork I'd left behind - when I saw him, only a stone's throw away from me.

At first, I thought he was just another random citizen, either gazing at my keepers' uniform with respect, or glaring at it with hatred, but as I came closer, I noted some distinct features of someone very familiar - eyes the colour of stormy clouds I sometimes see on the other side of the glass Dome ceiling, messy hair like the flames of a burning fire - and my heart almost skipped a beat. Could it be?

But... there was something very different about him that made me stop in my tracks. Of course, it had been... what, 8 years? - since I'd last seen him, and that long a period of time could change anyone greatly. For once, he had grown much taller since then, almost as tall as me, clearly diminishing the difference of height between the two of us there had been at the time. His facial features were much more mature, even though there were still hints of his young boyish profile left on his face.He had also become more broad-shouldered, much more muscular, and had developed a sturdy-built frame, undoubtedly gaining the body of a grown man.

Still, it was something other than that, something much more different, that made me step back and pause.

There was an aura of confidence that surrounded him, a glow that seemed completely foreign on him to me. The tiny boy who always waited for my word, who couldn't seem to do anything without my help... now a confident grown man? Could it really be him? Or maybe just an accidental resemblance? It didn't seem possible.

The boy kept on staring at me blank-faced, not moving a single muscle. We both stood still, looking at each other for what felt like eternity, until finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. The atmosphere that encircled us was so tight that I thought I could snap it in half. "Oi," I growled, taking a menacing step forward. Most people would run away screaming at this point, but the boy just gazed back at me, his face an expressionless mask. He didn't seem at all fazed by my sudden movement. "Say something, would you?"

Suddenly, without any kind of warning whatsoever, the boy's face flowered into a bright smile. The change was was so unexpected, so unnerving, but so familiar, that I felt a chill run up my spine.

The aeroplane. Those foolish childhood days of running after a pipe dream I created from my desperateness.

I scowled at the sudden flashing memories in my mind. There was nothing less I would've liked than being reminded of my own immature days. I'd been stupid. I'd been a fool. I had come all the way here, in my keeper's uniform, with my blood-red blindfold, to forget that embarrassing past. But no matter how far I'd try to run away from it, in the end, the past always came running after me.

But I refused to show my unease, and stood my ground. I'm a keeper. No keeper should show weakness in any form. "...What are you laughing at?"

"Hey," the boy chuckled. "Good to see you too, Raven."

Raven. How long had it been since I'd heard that name being said last? No one called me Raven Kuina anymore, I was Keeper Kuina, or Corvus, my code name, to everyone who knew me. Everyone, except...

"...Jay?"

Jay smiled. "Good. So you remember me. That's nice to know. I was half-afraid they'd brainwashed you, so I'd have to explain everything again. But I see the old Raven Kuina is still there, huh?" I saw his hand slide into his trouser pocket, and I instinctively reached into my uniform to take hold of the surprisingly cold metal grip of my gun tucked inside.

"Don't you even think about it, Kawasemi. Nothing will make me change my mind about the keepers. I'm one of them, and that's final."

Jay glanced at me, and shook his head, tutting. "No rushing to conclusions, Raven." He raised both his hands above his head in the old-surrendering move, but seeing something gripped in one of his hands, I stood ready.

But contrary to my expectation, what Jay had in his hand wasn't any kind of weapon at all, but a carefully folded piece of paper. "Wha--"

Even before I could open my mouth, Jay had closed the space between us, and pushed the sheet into my open hand. I glared at the paper in confusion, dumbfounded by the sudden chain of peculiar events. "Oi, what am I supposed to do with--" But somehow, the next moment I raised my head, Jay had mysteriously disappeared into thin air. "Eh?" A ninja? Was Jay a freakin' ninja? A Hokage? Wait, what the hell is a ninja? I spat onto the ground, my face twisted with annoyance and rage. "Tch."

I began walking, in a desperate move to get away from this place as quick as possible.

What should I do with this? I glared at the paper in my hand. Part of me wanted to throw it away into a gutter, or better, a blazing fire, and pretend none of this had ever happened. But there was another part of me, the foolish part, which was burning with curiosity.

"Curiosity killed the cat." The wise part of me said, pushing a pair of glasses up his nose.

"But satisfaction brought it back." The foolish part grinned, knowing at once who had won.

I wish I'd never listened to it.