:: Attempt 03.5 | A Tale of Outer Suburbia ::

"It's not the same, something's changed.
I never used to be able to see past the trees.
A thousand unfamiliars are lying thick on the air and I can't breathe.

"Is our skin to keep the world out or our bodies in?
This doesn't look like home; this doesn't look like home.
Is our skin to keep the world out or our bodies in?
I'll tear apart the town then sleep, and sleep alone."

-"A Tale of Outer Suburbia" by Hands Like Houses

x + x

[Location: Sibyl Headquarters; San Francisco, California.]

"Where is she?!"

His voice - rough and strained with emotion - echoes throughout the nearly empty conference room, to the bemusement of a certain elder man. Hanazono Sousuke sighs in resign, lacing his fingers together as he peers at the distraught young man, all hints of emotion gone from his impassive facade.

It was true to his expectations that he would barge into the Assembly Hall so soon after his return.  What he didn't expect was...

"Calm down, 'Miles'," 'Quattuor' hisses, jabbing at the side of his most recent partner-in-crime. The younger boy ignores the plea, gazing straight at the Head with little more than deadly composure in his evergreen eyes. Damn it, shouldn't have let that slip, the twenty-three-year-old Sibylline agent thinks as he grabs at the brunette's shoulders, halting what progress he had made.

Immediately, 'Miles' turns toward the older male, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Let go, 'Himeros'," he says the alias coldly, his jaw clenching at the effort as he futilely attempts to restrain his fluctuating emotions.

'Himeros' flinches as the boy says his pseudonym, yet holds fast to the thick cloth of the brunette's black jacket. (They had just returned, and he accidentally let 'Venatrix's top-secret mission slip.) "I'm not letting a loose cannon like you blow up in front of the Head." He says, digging his calloused fingertips into the article of clothing.

'Miles' stares back coldly, wordlessly grabbing the latter's hand, fingernails digging into flesh as he jerks the limb away from his clothes. "Like hell I'm gonna stay put without knowing where. My. Parabatai. Went." He growls fiercely, an animalistic look to his eyes.

A frustrated breath escaped the older male. "You insufferable little--"

"'Quattuor'. That's enough." The Head's voice calls, and both parties back away from each other; the latter furiously gazing at the red-haired male. "I will not have you fighting like the beasts I have made you hunt."

'Quattuor' looks towards the Hanazono, disbelief etched across his expression. "But sir--"

"Enough is enough, Shinobu." He repeats firmly, to which he garners an evident flinch from the dark-haired male. "You are dismissed for now. The report regarding your mission may come after I speak with the boy."

The twenty-three-year-old waits for a brief moment, swallowing his indignant remark. With a warning look in the direction of the volatile brunette, he takes his leave; footsteps echoing in the still room.

"Now.." Sousuke turns to the younger male, narrowing his cold eyes - uncannily similar to his daughter's. "Regarding my daughter's whereabouts, I believe it is none of your concern, 'Achilles'."

'Achilles' ground his teeth, emerald-green eyes fixated upon the placid Hanazono. "I apologize for my rude behavior, Head." He says, venom dripping from each syllable with remarkable sarcasm as he clenches his fists, taking a step forward. "But where she may be is also my concern. She's my partner, my parabatai, damn it. I want to know where she-- where 'Atalanta' is."

Azure eyes narrow at the blatant emotion in the younger's voice. It sickens the older man - one of his best agents, succumbing to such a primal notion.

"Japan." The Hanazono relents, closing his eyes for a brief second. "I have assigned her to an infiltration mission."

He freezes in place, his carefully constructed mask falling to pieces at this newly divulged information. Realization flickers within the evergreen pools, as the sixteen-year-old tenaciously set his jaw; irritation clearly seen through the clear lenses of his glasses.

"Infiltration is my specialty, sir. Why did you select her - a skilled assassin - instead of--"

"This mission," Sousuke interjects, a hint of steel within his tone, "was requested by an acquaintance of mine. My daughter is perfectly capable of executing such a task, don't you think? Or do you doubt your partner's capabilities?"

"That isn't the case. However, with all due respect, sir, I can't understand why you chose to send her without me."

"'Atalanta' does not need your assistance this time around, 'Achilles'. I take it you understand why."

He immediately stiffens, immense loathing now emanating off his rigid stance. "You sent her to comply with the agreement."

A wry smile curls the elder's lips. "Exactly. This, along with the fact that she is in the company of her betrothed - whom I presume you already know - are the reasons as to why I did not appoint you to this mission as well."

"I--" He cut himself off short, his shaking fists white-knuckled from anger. "I will take my leave now, sir." With that, he spins around, his combat boots - streaked with dirt - scraping against the once-pristine tiles.

"'Miles'," The Head calls, as the irate young man pauses mid-step, looking over his shoulder for the sake of courtesy. "You would not mind waiting for a month, would you?"

"..No, sir." He reluctantly replies.

The elder's lips pulls up into a barely noticeable smile - the expression of one who had cornered an enemy. "How would you like a trip to my hometown?"

x + x

"You are, by far, the most idiotic personage I've ever met." 'Atalanta' grumbled, irritably swiping a strand of her crimson hair out of her eyes. He laughed - breathlessly, however, as he lay with an arm draped over his closed eyes.

"Yeah. And you're the most stuck-up twelve-year-old I've ever encountered." He replied, smiling cheekily as she swatted at his injured arm - earning a howl of pain from the brunette.

"Hey, that hurt!"

"It was supposed to, idiot. How moronic are you to fall prey to their trap? I told you I would be alright."

"I didn't know that 'alright' counted as being harrassed by one of those traffickers."

"I was biding my time, Achilles."

"Excuses."

"I'm telling the truth!" She protested, a subtle hint of scarlet dusting her pallid cheeks. 'Miles' grinned as he sat up, cradling his wounded appendage to his chest to prevent further damage.

"I wasn't saying that ya' were lying, Atalanta. You admitted it yourself."

She looked away, stubbornly averting her eyes from his. A tremulous sigh escaped her parted lips as she leaned her head against her scarred palm. "Nevertheless, we're at an impasse. What do you suggest we do?"

He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised that she had asked for his suggestion. "You're asking me?"

She merely looked at him - an expression which suggested, in simplest terms, that he was irrefutably an idiot. "Of course. You're my partner from now on - my parabatai, so to speak. Like it or not, I'd have to ask for your opinion as to how we'd proceed on this mission sooner or later."

"Para-what?"

"Parabatai. I suppose it's a term for lifelong partners. In what, exactly, I don't know."

"Well..." He shrugged, resting his head against her shoulder - much to her discomfort. She tensed at the close proximity, her hands reaching up in a vain attempt to shove him away. Yet she hesitated.

He grinned mischievously as he sat up straight, leaning in as he rested his forehead against hers regardless of her extremely flushed cheeks. "I suppose I'd have ta' deal with your uptight self more often than I thought."

With that, her reluctance faded as she mercilessly pushed the chagrined brunette onto the rickety floorboards.

-To be continued.

[Word Count: 1,320 (Notes not counted. Originally written: January 16th, 2016. Edited: July 14th-16th, 2016.]