Haruka - Sev
Hideo - Hiren
2,357
Hideo - Hiren
2,357
The bright white lights overhead hummed loudly, casting their pale glow over the interrogation chamber. Freshly polished tile floors, two way mirrors for walls; the only furniture a pair of matching steel chairs and a large table to sit between them. It was, in a word, antiseptic. The same kind of premeditated cleanliness and neutrality found in most government-run buildings -- particularly those belonging to law enforcement.
Fidgeting around in the far seat, trying to find a comfortable position despite being chained to the table at the wrists, Haruka Wright glanced at his reflection in the two-way mirror opposite him. The years had done a number on the former Order agent. Sunken eyes stared back from beneath sodden and unkempt locks of ashen hair, one bruised black by the brutish guards of Sanyo Shikaku, and the other missing entirely. A pair of crimson scars ran from the man’s left brow over the empty eye socket and down to his cheek; courtesy of the Orpheus agent’s who’d brought him down.
Five long years in Sanyo Shikaku had not done the man well.
His one remaining eye traced its way along his reflection, stopping over the brushed metal manacle hung around his neck. The guards who had brought him in made it painfully clear that, at any sign of noncompliance, they could use the device to pop his head off like a cork.
A dry chuckle escaped the dishevelled mans lips.
“What’s the holdup?” he barked at no one, a thick New Zealand accent butchering his attempt at Japanese. “...I haven’t got all day!”
“Oh, on the contrary,” a voice replied from the hallway, as the only exit from the room was opened. In the middle of the frame stood the Commander-in-Chief of Orpheus, Hideo Udea. As per usual, his personal appearance mimicked the state of the room. It was polished and refined. His hair was combed down, reflecting a golden sheen from the florescent light. Likewise, his uniform was creased and ironed, the emblem of the Initiative embroidered into the shoulder.
“By all regards, you do indeed have the entire day. And in that regard the day after, and after, and after,” he spoke in an authoritative tone of voice. Like his appearance, his English was spoken with precise diction. “In fact, with regular feeding you could easily be kept in here for quite a while.”
The door closed behind him as he stepped forward to take a seat in the metallic chair. In his right hand was an unmarked file folder, though the contents remained hidden for the time being. Making eye-contact with the man he continued, “Haruka Wright...I assume you enjoyed your stay at the Sanyo Shikaku? After all, the reservation was tailored for you personally!”
“Yeah, yeah,” the man spat sarcastically, nodding his head upwards to gesture at his swollen eye. “The staff really looked after me.”
Pulling back against the chains holding him to the table, Haruka made another attempt to get comfortable in the cold steel chair.
“You really ought to consider swapping these things out,” he griped, lapsing into english. “...Just when you think you’ve found a good spot something jabs you right in the--”
The man across the table cleared his throat loudly.
“I’m guessing you brought me here for a reason,” the white-haired man breathed, his remaining crimson eye staring daggers at Hideo. “...Well I’ll save you the trouble. I’m not interested in anything a cretin like you has to say.”
The sentence was punctuated by a gob of spit leaving the man’s cracked lips, flying through the air in a slow arc before landing neatly on the Orpheus commander’s lapel.
“You can send me back to my cell.”
The Commander’s face remained frozen. Almost routinely, he reached into the upper pocket of his jacket, pulling out what appeared to be a silk-white handkerchief. He lifted up his lapel, rubbing it completely dry until it glossed brightly once more. He folded it carefully between his hands before placing it back into his upper pocket.
“A cell,” he began to speak in a more threatening tenor, “is far too luxurious for a dog like you. Barely enough spiritual power to see even the weakest of spirits, you unfortunately are far more bark than bite. In a cell you would simply be a waste of oxygen.”
He adjusted his posture back in his chair, almost appearing to grow taller due to the perspective. Hideo replied with a dark glance, “In fact, if you do insist on keeping this up, simply putting you down would be a better use of Initiative funding.”
Hideo paused for a moment before breathing out once more, “Now then, care to continue this conversation?”
The former Order agent let out a long, low laugh, his lone eye never losing its focus on the man sat across from him.
“You think that scares me? Do you?” the white-haired man goaded, stomping his foot loudly as he chuckled. “Your bunch was always on the righteous path. You threaten pain, death, and all I hear is empty words.”
Taking a moment to catch his breath, the man continued, a thin smile playing across his bruised and sodden face.
“...Never could do what needed to be done. You don’t have the balls for it.” Haruka seethed, leaning in closer to Hideo. “Give me back my goddamn rig and we’ll see who’s got more bite.”
Hideo Udea cocked his head slightly to the side, a corrupt smirk cracking across his face. In a sudden rush of movement, one that was all but invisible to the barely awakened man, Haruka was wrenched backwards. The steel chair he sat on was thrown haphazardly to the side, as the chains around his arms elongated to their maximum distance.
In seconds the scene was revealed. A painful vice-grip surrounded the prisoner's throat, the Commander-in-Chief lifting him easily into the air with one hand. In the other hand was the folder, the contents still carefully stored inside. The blond-haired man continued to pull Haruka back, forcing the chains to continue to painfully extend. With a sickening crack, the pilot’s wrists were crushed by the immense pressure. At the same moment, Hideo began to increase the force of his grip, slowly choking the man with ease.
He lowered his hand down so the helpless man was brought down towards him. He drew in close the Haruka’s ear before beginning to whisper.
“Listen carefully.”
Still holding Haruka, he calmly walked over to the knocked over chair, righting it, and placing it front of the desk once more. Lifting the man over the chair he suddenly released his grip, causing him to land painfully on the stainless-steel surface. He walked back over to the other side, drawing the chair out once more and sitting down.
“Now then, I’ll ask again. Care to continue this conversation?”
“My arms,” the inmate whimpered, his hands offset to his wrists at an extreme angle. “You broke my fucking arms!”
Leaning over the table, the white haired man writhed in obvious pain, letting out ragged gasps between an ongoing string of expletives. Taking a few deep breaths, Haruka rocked back and forth in the chair, trying in vain to banish the pain from his mind.
“What?! What is it?!” the man spat through gritted teeth, still futilely attempting to cradle his broken arms despite his bindings. “What the fuck do you want from me?!”
Almost as if he was content with himself, the commander straightened himself in his chair. Reaching into the file, he pulled out two pictures and what appeared to be a technical document. The first picture appeared to be a wreckage site, large metallic protrusions of what was a mechanical device peaking out of the pile of rubble. The second picture appeared to be a fully constructed mechanical system. The bulky central head of the system was held up with two complex hydraulic leg systems. Attached to the side arms was a large arsenal of weaponry,ranging from blunt applicators to complex railguns.
The technical document showed the vehicle in closer detail. The complicated specifications of the frame detailed out. “Familiar?” he asked, though he already knew the response, “The Destrier Combat Frame. Surprised to see a functional one? As you most likely remember, the fleet was almost completely wiped out. However, through the marvels of modern engineering, a select few were saved from the scrapyard.”
He reached forward, grabbing Haruka’s wrists once more. A pale white light seemed to emanate from his hands, the broken wrists appearing to slowly mend together. “Simply put,” replied Hideo in a softer tone, “There are very few people with the knowledge of the capability of these frames. Thankfully, your enthusiastic cooperation has ended my search.”
Applying force once more on the man’s wrist, Hakura cried in pain. He immediately relaxed the force once more before finishing his statement, “I need to know... well.. everything.”
“Still fumbling around in the dark.” the man breathed in a voice full of venom, his lone crimzon eye darting from his brutalized wrists to Hideo and back. “You can’t even begin to understand what you’re dealing with. I’ll show you how they work first hand when I chop your fucking head off!”
Straining against his shackles, the white-haired prisoner let out another long series of slurs.
“You’re not getting shit out of me. Not at this rate.” Haruka chuckled weakly, his breathing still ragged. “Bark all you like. Kill me and you’ve fucked yourself.”
“As you know personally, there are far worse things than death in this world,” he replied almost boredly, “A pleasant conversation such as this one is simply one of the many possible options I can take.”
He leaned forward, applying a crippling pressure on Haruka’s wrists once more. “You need to get one thing straight in your mind Haruka Wright. I am not Aragon Tenbanto nor am I Masato Fujikawa. This pain pales in comparison to what you soon will feel. Don’t for a moment think that I have decided to speak to you because you are the prime candidate. Simply put, you are the first that I have found. However, if necessary I will hunt the others to the ends of the Earth to get the answers I need.
“Unfortunately, you won’t be alive to see it happen then.”
The grip grew even stronger, instantly shattering the fragile healing that was completed once more. As Haruka began to reel back in pain, Hideo retained his grip. “Now then.Tell me about the Destrier Hakura Wright. Otherwise, I’ll have no other option than to reduce you the shrivelling mutt that you are to get the answers I need.”
“You can’t be told how they work, you fucking idiot.” Haruka bellowed through gritted teeth as the Orpheus commander released his grip on the man’s shattered wrists, the former pilot letting out a few more curses before managing to compose himself.
“There’s procedures, treatments, training,” he balked in a hurried, almost frenzied voice. “Too much. There’s too much!”
Letting out a muffled sob, the white-haired man let his head drop to the table.
“There’s not a chance in hell you’re going to figure it out on your own, and I know I’m your last goddamn option. The only other ones who could possibly know are Alexanda or that white-coated prick!”
The man across the table cocked a curious eyebrow at the prisoners mention of the terrorist mastermind Fukushin.
“...And I know Alex is dead. I watched you lot kill ’er myself. So that leaves me, or the big guy, and I’ve got a feeling that if that asshole was still around, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
The Commander paused for a moment before replying in a threatening voice, “Well then Haruka, it appears that your value, or at least the value of your information, has increased exponentially. Luckily for you, you now have quite a lot of time on your hands.”
His tenor dropped as he began to whisper through gritted teeth, “Tell me the procedures! Perform the treatments! Show me the training!” He let go suddenly, leaving the man be. “I need them functional and ready for reasons that your animal brain could barely even process.”
He paused for a moment, “Continue to resist and I will be forced to take drastic measures that will leave you begging for this moment. This is not a request, nor is it a command Haruka Wright. This is a ransom.”
“Fine!” the white-haired man barked, his head still flat of the cold steel table. “...Fucking fine! I’ll do it!”
Letting out a few more muffled swears as his broken wrists shifted uncomfortably, the man turned his head slightly, his one good eye staring a hole through the Orpheus commander.
What did he have left anyways? A damp cell in Sanyo Shikaku or a painful death at the hands of this psychopath. Who was left to judge? Alexandra was dead along with the rest of his comrades.
For the first time in a long while, a fire lit up in the brash pilot’s eye. He would play their game, do their song and dance. He would wait for the bastards to let their guard down...
And then he would have his revenge.
“Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?!”
“Yes,” he replied simply. Hideo got up from his chair, pushing it in back underneath the desk, “The guards will escort you to one of our holding cells... eventually. Afterwards, I’ll send in a few doctors to set your wrists. The moment you are determined ready, we will begin.”
As he walked away, a smirk appeared on his face. It was a crooked smile that seemed to hide layers and layers of mysteries beneath it. His mind tiked away, his grand magnum opus slowly beginning to fit together. As he got to the door, the blond-haired man paused for a moment before turning back towards the sobbing pilot. He laughed to himself for a moment before closing the heavy door behind him.
“This is surely the start of a wonderful partnership,”
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