Flickers of his breath graze Yukio’s ear, soft as wisps of flame over kindling.
He knows Shima can’t have fully grasped what this message means. No. Of course, he hasn’t. Shima may have been tasked to pass this secret along, but he wouldn’t say it in this way if he knew more.
Regardless, it’s too late. The idea is irrevocable, swaying just beyond the corners of Yukio’s vision. He’s already enthralled by it, so much that there’s no decision to be made.
“Now I’ve told you, so do what you want with it.” Shima raises a finger to his lips and winks as he walks away.
“Which side are you on?” It’s a futile question, yet he’s asked it twice now. He doesn’t even know what answer he cares for.
Shima laughs. “Who knows?” When he turns back, the mirth in his voice doesn’t reflect in his eyes. “Which side are you on?”
Those words fall from his tongue one by one like scattering dice. As he leaves, their echo swells in the empty hallway, spoken as if they were particularly clever.
Yukio’s lip curls when he catches sight of his own silhouette in the tall row of windows beside him. He’s cold and sheer. Do his motives appear as simple to see through?
“Of course,” he says, “you of all people wouldn’t be fooled so easily.”
Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Shima won’t be enough to stop him, and it’s clear he has no intentions to do so in the first place.
The soft hum of warm air vents switches on when he steps near the windows. It’s never completely silent here. Blinking specks of red lights line the ship’s massive steel wings. In spite of the darkness, no stars are visible. All he can see are layered clouds in the distance.
This fortress is undeniably impressive from a technological perspective. It’s clear it was designed with both comfort and safety in mind. He hadn’t expected that after seeing their lab in Shimane.
Yukio turns away and strides down the hallway with measured, even steps.
He’s been given a weapon. All that’s left is to weigh how best to use it.
