I am unimportant.

The thought often drives me crazy. If I were to fall off the face of the Earth today, there are exactly three people who would care: Roxanna, Cayden, and Idra. To anyone else, they'd hardly know the difference. My mother might not even notice.

I've been wondering a lot lately about why I finally chose to set up a meeting with the anonymous user, and I think that might be why. I think I might've done it for the exact reasons I knew I shouldn't do it. It's dangerous, it's unpredictable, and something feels so, so wrong. He is up to something bad, I know it, and I don't just mean hacking somebody's phone bad, I mean dramatic, news-making bad. What happens will be noticed.

What happens will be important.

I think that might be at least one reason I do any of this. I may be nothing, I may be unimportant, but Codebreaker, she's far from it. If she fell off the face of the Earth, people would notice. People would care. As long as I am her, and continue to do the unexpected, the dramatic, the impressive, I will not be nothing.

With that thought in mind, I head out the door. I have a meeting with Anonymous13810, which will no doubt lead to the start of this something I'm so intrigued by. Whatever he's up to, he'll be noticed, and my code along with him. One way or another, I will not be nothing.

* * *

The client sits across the table from me, wearing all black, his face covered mostly by his hood as well as a mask. For the first time in a long while, I actually want to use my FaceRec on a client, but I know it won't work. He looks me over for a few seconds before speaking, his voice cold and a little intimidating. Memories of the audio call when I tried to trace his account come back to me, but he doesn't seem anxious to bring it up, for which I'm thankful. What I must not have noticed in the call before is his Polean accent, which emphasizes his imperfect use of the Universal Language.

"You are the hacker?" He confirms, with a hint of suspicion.

"Are you surprised?" I ask in response.

"I didn't expect you to be so..."

"Young?" I guess. It wouldn't be the first time I've heard that, but the way he started the sentence felt... off.

"Well... yes. Perhaps. You're just— not what I was expecting."

His eyes scan my face, as if he's analyzing every detail of me. Even though I'm wearing a mask, the attention makes me uncomfortable, so I change the subject.

"You're Polean," I say, voicing my earlier observation. He looks unshaken.

"That is quite obvious."

"Why are you in Japan? There's been no travel to and from the North or South Poles since the war."

"I was told you don't ask questions," he says, his voice uncertain but not nervous.

"Sorry. Just curious."

"This mission cannot afford your 'curiosity', Miss Codebreaker."

"Right. Of course. Now, what is it you need from me... sir?"

He slides a tablet across the table to me, and the screen lights up. On it is a digital layout of what appears to be the Allanite Corporation Innovation Lab building in upper Roppongi. Almost immediately, I shake my head and stand up. Why is this guy so obsessed with breaking my very few, very simple rules?

"No. Nothing corporation-related. You know my terms." It's the main rule that I follow above all else. Hacking personal computers, tracing phones, and even more intense stuff like helping clients hide from the law by erasing police reports, all that's dangerous, sure. But not like corporations. In today's world, what matters is what the people want, and what they want, corporations fight each other to sell. Governments are kidding themselves if they think they have power. The real power, and control over the population, lies with the main 5 megacorporations — Cortland, Inc., Daintree, Nexlo, Pictograph, Inc., and of course, AllaCorp. Together, they control over 99% of the world's market. That's why OutlawResolve said breaking the rule was a "big deal". In fact, that's a bit of an understatement.

I turn to leave, but the man reaches out a hand and says,

"Wait. I can pay you well for this."

It doesn't matter, I tell myself. I don't interfere with the megacorps, no matter how much I'm offered. And any client of mine should know this. With these thoughts surely in my mind, I start walking toward the main exit.

"20 000 credits."

I stop in my tracks. I know better. If the anonymous client is willing to pay me this much, it only means the job is even more dangerous...

But on the other hand, 20 000 credits could get me anywhere in the world. Including the UEK. London. I could finally find OutlawResolve... I mean, I could finally get out of the country to stay off the UNBI's radar.

No. This is still a terrible idea. I absolutely should not take this job.

...But apparently my body isn't listening to my brain right now, because I find myself sitting back down. The client continues.

"There are three entrances to the building. The main front one, side door and back one. I need a program that can seal doors and disable any way for employee key card to unlock them. And I need a master key, only card that can unlock any door in the building, even with your lock program."

I shake my head. I could write a program like that — I'm not saying it would be easy, and it would definitely take quite some work, but I could do it — but that's not the point... I have my rule for a reason. Besides, this guy's way suspicious, and I know basically nothing about him, and it would be a supremely stupid idea to break my rule for him with so little information on what he'll actually do with my program. Unless...

"Tell me what you need it for." Finally, forcing myself to at least fake confidence, I demand an answer to the question I've been curious about from the start. He broke my terms by requesting to meet in person, and again when he asked me to hack an AllaCorp building. At this point, my rules have gone out the window, which means I'm asking him whatever the hell I want.

"You said no questions," he says in a warning tone.

"I also said no interfering with the corporations. You want me to break my own rules, tell me what it's for."

After a long and tense pause, he sighs and speaks again.

"I'll make you a deal. In exchange for not asking about my plans, I'll increase your compensation to 25 000 credits."

I shake my head. "No. If I'm doing this, I want to know why."

"Fine. 25 000 credits, and I will answer one question. That's all. No more unnecessary information, deal is off if you ask again. Oh, and this one question can't be 'why' or anything else too general."

"OK, fine, I accept your terms."

"And your question?"

"Hmm... Why?"

Damn, if irritated, unwavering glares could kill...

"I'm kidding, chill! Give me a minute."

What do I want to ask him? The why really is what I want to know. Eventually, I decide on the question I think will give me the most useful information.

"Are you stealing something, or destroying something?"

Those are the two most common motives I've come across in my two years as a hacker-for-hire. People either want to steal things — information, usually, or sometimes real items from password-locked safes and such — or they want to destroy things, erase incriminating footage or get rid of police reports. By breaking into the AllaCorp building, the anonymous client could be doing either. He may be trying to steal something valuable, like new tech, or destroy it. Maybe he's even planning to shut down a system from the inside. Kind of like OutlawResolve and the Nexlo building, I can't help but think.

"Destroying. In a way," he says, then, after unplugging a d-chip, presumably with the building plans, from his tablet and passing it to me, he stands up to leave. After only a step, he turns back around. "One more thing — was it you, the message from the fake bot? Trying to get information? Why?"

Thankful that he can't see the slight smirk forming under my mask, I respond, "Sorry. Those are unnecessary questions."

The client watches at me for a few seconds, through narrowed eyes, then walks away.

After scanning for hidden cameras using a device I built, I slip out the door myself and hurry home, through backstreets as usual. I have to get back quickly, though, because my sister's still there and she thinks I just went out for a walk.

That thought, of course, leads me back to my earlier Idra concerns, mainly that I still haven't figured out what she's doing back home. After so long, she just pops back to Tokyo and claims she's only here to visit us? No, there has to be another reason, and a good one at that. She escaped the broken family I'm still stuck living in, and I know she hates to be reminded of it.

Then, that one, terrible thought that I always try to avoid comes to mind against my will. I try to push it away, like I always do, but it persists, like an error in a program where no matter how many things you change to try and fix it, you can't seem to get it to go away.

My mother before the hovercar crash.

This time last year, in this situation, I probably would've been thinking about how much I miss the good old days, before my dad died, when my mom was caring and loving and paid attention to her kids. I would've told myself that if it weren't for that one fateful day, everything would be perfect, just like it used to be.

But that's the thing, that nagging little intrusive thought — things weren't perfect before.

I hate to think about it, because it's so much easier to just pretend that I had a good life, a good family, derailed by a tragic event, but the fact is, I didn't. My family had problems long before the accident. Problems I avoid dealing with... Problems I sometimes struggle to even remember from my foggy childhood memories.

But there was definitely something wron—

HOOOOOONK!

The sound jolted me back to my senses, and I jumped back realizing I had stepped out to cross the street without checking. Once standing on the safety of the sidewalk, I take a breath, watching with embarrassment at the few seconds of chaos I caused. Several hovercars honk, and brake lights come on and off as the traffic flow returns to normal. The car that almost hit me speeds away quickly and silently, and I send an apologetic wave to the one behind it, that honked first and warned me to get out of the way.

Whoa, I really need to pay more attention.

With that sudden, adrenaline-induced reminder in mind, I jog the rest of the way home — while looking where I'm going, of course.

* * *

When I walk through the door, my sister is in the living room, talking on the phone in a professional tone. So it's work, then.

I mouth mom? and she responds by pointing upstairs, then leaning her head against her hand in a 'sleeping' gesture. I nod and start toward the stairs, planning to check on her, then start working on the program for Anonymous13-whatever-that-number-was.

"Ah— Wait, one sec—" Idra waves for me to come back while pressing a button on her phone. Once it's muted, she says, "I made dinner, miso ramen. Mom went to bed early, but I'd love it if you'd join me."

"OK," I agree, somehow only just now noticing the delicious ramen smell coming from the kitchen. Yes, yes, I still want to figure out if Idra has ulterior motives and all that, but also... maybe I should just be happy about tasty food that I don't have to cook.

My sister finishes up her work call, then we head to the kitchen. I watch her curiously as I scoop soup and noodles from the pot on the stove into my bowl. Maybe I'm overthinking things — I feel sort of guilty about it, to be honest, when she's been nothing but nice and perfect and, well, Idra, since she arrived. Maybe I shouldn't be assuming she has some secret reason.

"Is something wrong?" She asks me.

"Oh, no, it's fine," I answer, turning away and walking to the table. "Anyway, uh, how's work?"

After collecting her food, she sits down across from me.

"It's been good. Just, you know, the usual. I have to take another call later, unfortunately. What about you, how have you been?"

"Oh— same. Usual." I pick up some noodles with my chopsticks.

Looking up from my bowl, I catch her watching me with an expression that looks like concern, but it quickly fades when I meet her eyes.

"What about— How have things been with Mom?"

On second thought, I definitely wasn't just overthinking. Idra never brings up Mom like that... As far as I know, she doesn't even like to think about her. Something else is going on here, and I think she knows I noticed, because she adds,

"I know I never talk about her, I— I know it must be hard for you, with her... grieving."

Reaching for my water glass, I ponder how to respond. Eventually, after a careful sip of my drink and even more careful consideration — because that sounds better than 'obsessive overthinking' — I decide to just ask her what's on my mind.

"Not that I'm not glad or anything, but... why are you here?"

"Can't I just visit sometimes? I miss you, you know."

No, something's off about her tone. Why won't she tell me?

"Is that really the only reason?"

"What else would it be?"

I shrug. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?

"I just missed you, and I know I haven't been around a lot lately," she continues.

"That's..." A bit of an understatement? No, I don't want to sound rude. Besides, honestly, I understand. "I get it. This isn't exactly the kind of family you'd want to be around."

"Don't say that, there's nothing wrong with— It's not you."

"I know, it's just— Please, just tell me why you're here."

"I already told you—"

"And I don't believe you!" The words leave my mouth as a shout, frustrated and concerned and definitely louder than I meant it. "Sorry. I'm sorry, it's just, something doesn't add up here. You said yourself you don't come around a lot. And suddenly, you're asking about Mom, someone you never bring up? I know you don't think about us, you have good reason to leave this place behind, and suddenly you're back, acting all innocent and perfect and making dinner and pretending that everything's normal? There has to be something going on."

"Don't you want things to be normal for once?"

"I don't know, sure, but this isn't about what I want. Just tell me why you're here!"

"I'm here to see my sister, of course. I'm here for you."

"Oh, come on, Idra, I know you're not just 'visiting family', so spit it out already!"

"Fine! Fine, Kalix, you want to know the truth? I'm here to get you out of here!" She exclaims, startling both me and likely herself with the outburst. The room falls quiet.

"What— what are you talking about?"

My sister takes a deep breath.

"You think I don't know the truth about Mom?" She looks at me with obvious pity in her eyes, and it takes a considerable amount of willpower not to snap back that I thought she just pretended she didn't know. "I should've come back sooner," she continues, "I should've tried to help you, I—"

Idra closes her eyes for a second and shakes her head, as if she's pondering some deep life regret.

Maybe she is.

"Anyway, I'm here now, Kalix. I'm here to take you back to Kyoto where you can live with me. You deserve someone who will actually care for you."

There is a lingering moment of silence as I process her words. She wants to take me with her. Away from here, away from the place that doesn't want me, the mother who doesn't care. For so long, I've wished for precisely this moment, to be rescued... but now, something feels wrong. Without really thinking, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Why now?" It's a simple question, but an important one nonetheless. "Why didn't you try to save me sooner?"

"I wish I could've, I—"

"No, I know you could've. Why didn't you?"

"I— You're right, OK? I was wrong to leave you here, but I'm here now, and—"

"You're too late, Idra."

"What do you mean?"

A short, humourless laugh escapes my lips. "I mean, what are you gonna do, act like a mother to me? Cook dinner, and ask about my day, and help me with my homework? Sit in a highschool auditorium next June and watch my graduation? It's pretend, it's nothing more than playing dress-up. It's... meaningless. I don't need someone to do that for me anymore. I've... I don't know, adapted. You weren't here when I needed you, and now that you are... I don't."

"Kalix... This isn't right. You deserve better, and you don't have to stay here any longer. You can be free from it all."

I shake my head, hoping the tears I feel in my eyes will stay where they are.

"Do you know how many times I imagined what my life would be like if you said those exact words to me? How many nights I stayed up wishing for you to walk through the front door and whisk me away, rescue me? Too many. You're right, I deserved better, back then, but nobody ever came to save me. Do you think if I left now, it would change anything? That it would somehow make up for over two years spent struggling to take care of a... a nonfunctional, specter-woman, my own mother, who barely acknowledged my existence?"

"Kalix, I..." She covers her face with her hands, and when she pulls them away, I notice she's crying. I can't remember the last time I saw Idra cry. "I know I was wrong, OK? I never should have left you here, I know that. It was thoughtless, and selfish, and—" She sighs. "I can't change the past. I wish I could, but I can't, and I just want to try and fix this. To finally make it better."

"I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, I just—" Giving up on holding back tears, I let them fall, and pull my sister into a hug. "Thank you, for trying to fix things. I really do appreciate it, but now... I just don't think leaving is the best option for me anymore."

She hugs me back, and after a few seconds, lets me go and asks,

"Is there anything I can do, then?"

"Well... you could visit more often," I answer.

"Of course. I will, I promise."

Her phone beeps, reminding us that she has to take another call soon. After saying goodnight, she heads toward the stairs.

"Wait— one more thing," I call after her.

Idra turns around, her foot on the first step.

"I don't blame you for leaving, and I don't ever want you to think our broken family is your fault, or that you're the problem. I don't want to hold any of this against you. You're my sister, and I'll always love you, even if I wish the past had been different."

* * *

xCodebreaker01: You on?

OutlawResolve: Yeah, what's up?

xCodebreaker01: I can't sleep.

xCodebreaker01: What are you up to?

OutlawResolve: Just working on a program for a client. Do you know what's keeping you up?

xCodebreaker01: :shrug: No idea. I think it's just the usual don't-feel-like-sleeping.

OutlawResolve: Ah yes, the terrible don't-feel-like-somnia disorder.

xCodebreaker01: Oh, shut up /j

xCodebreaker01: Anyway... ahh I don't know what to say...

OutlawResolve: Haha, we can just talk about random stuff if you want.

OutlawResolve: Let's see... What kind of music do you like?

xCodebreaker01: Of course, casual, random conversations between cybercriminals, totally normal. /s

xCodebreaker01: Anyway, I like a mix of stuff, I guess. Some alt. rock and pop-punk, but also some mainstream pop music. I'm not one of those people who thinks they're interesting because they "only listen to indie" and blah blah blah

OutlawResolve: :laugh: yep those people can be pretty annoying.

OutlawResolve: So, on the subject of alt. rock, what do you think of Dark City Runaways?

xCodebreaker01: They're one of my favourite bands! Also Broken Halo.

OutlawResolve: Mine, too :) I haven't heard much of BH's music though, but I liked that song that was on Timeskip.

xCodebreaker01: Yeah, that show has such a great soundtrack in general.

OutlawResolve: Right? By the way, have you seen the new episode?

xCodebreaker01: I haven't had the time yet :( and you better not tell me any spoilers.

OutlawResolve: Spoiling the season finale? What kind of evil-doing miscreant do you think I am? /j

xCodebreaker01: Evil-doing miscreant? And to think they say the art of language is lost.

xCodebreaker01: Hey, maybe I should watch the finale now. Not like sleep is going to happen, anyway.

OutlawResolve: Great idea. Message me after, I have theories that need sharing and none of my friends watch the show.

xCodebreaker01: OK. ttys

Psh, who needs sleep at 1:00 when there are sci-fi shows to watch?