Symposium of Elites (Working Title)

Prolouge: The Man from the Alley

I bet that alley is safe. The one where rats scurried about smelly garbage bins, with dark smoke ascending to the atmosphere, and a slight commotion occurred. Definitely.

Believing in this delusion of refuge, I take off. Running almost aimlessly, my clothes were tarnished with soot, wet due to the drizzle pouring from above; I was pelted with raindrops, trickling over my nose, the cold, heavy clothes I wore denied me of any comfort.

While my coat—rather a white gown, was blemished with stains from the beverage splashed on me, my soles had started to hurt. I felt the hard asphalt pricking at my skin, similar to stepping on a cactus.

I pant and heave. Noticing now how far I ran—approximately three kilometers—to this alley I spotted a while back at the veranda, I sigh of relief.

Acknowledge the fact that I slipped through backyards and fought a nasty bulldog, flicking saliva at me as I fled. Extreme events are what led me to my current predicament, regardless of my disastrous luck.

I was wondering what to do until I heard a voice. Needless to say, I turned to the source—it was a full 180° body twist, and my gaze lands on a male figure who wore a jacket, he had his hood up. "Say, are you from around here?" he asked, politely.

I respond by shaking my head twice. Without permission though, he extends his hands towards me, as if seeking a hug—should I do the same?

Seeing me slightly raise my hands, the air shifted. Even when the subtlest changes in breathing occurred, I noticed, the atmosphere had changed. Well, he didn't want a hug it seems. He came across as formidable. Should an alley brawl occur though, I'll come out as the victor. I was confident in my abilities, which I promptly declared,

"You'd rather not fight me."

"And why is that?"

"I am adept in martial arts; I am capable of defending myself."

"I understand. But I wasn't looking to fight. I wouldn't hurt a child."

"I wonder...

In silence, he hovers above me. About a head taller than me, in the dim light spurred by the moon, he wore glasses, gleaming when he adjusts them accordingly. He muses,

"A child dressed in a white lab gown stuck in an alley. That's new."

"A strange creepy man turns up just as I entered. Quite an experience. Should I call the police?"

"Where are your parents? Shouldn't it be past bedtime?"

"Indeed. I'm lost, please help me find a home."

"Lost, huh."

In amusement, his lips loosened.

"...perhaps she'll open up a bit," he mumbles.

"Here," he says, extending his hand. This was my chance. I reach and give him a handshake easily forgettable, experiencing his powerful grip.

"Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. Pleasure," I said. Like most encounters, it was necessary to introduce oneself, in the interest of etiquette. Yet...

I watch as he places a hand on his chin—the most overrated thinking pose done by the smartest of minds, Einstein, Newton, and Abraham Lincoln had done so as well.

"Follow me," he said, striding away while beckoning me with a hand. He kept moving, ignoring my perturbed gaze, and I was curious.

"Why should I follow you?"

"You're looking for a home, right? Come with me," he says, dismissing my following words as he heads out the alley. If he was trying to lure me, then he's succeeded.

Furthermore, I didn't want to stay in this filthy alley as the foul odors try suffocating me, it was heavily raining as well.

Therefore I dragged my wet body to catch up, keeping a fair distance away from him. In my thoughts, I wonder, how did I not notice him approaching?

Well, he caught my attention.

Impelled to pursue him as he starts running at a faster pace, my legs trudged onward, ignoring the downpour from discouraging me.

It was a silent stroll—or jog. The moon provided us its serene light, guiding us towards our destination-where could that be though? I had a premonition, still, I couldn't speculate much; my circumstances made it hard to think.

———

He motions to a house nearby. It was an average-looking home. The fences of stone stood relatively high, a copper gate, and probably, a door inside. Moderate middle-class people.

"Come in," he says plainly. The fence can be easily scaled, I thought. He observed me as if ascertaining something—he shuts his eyes, saying,

"Hey. It's still raining, so we can't stay here much longer. Unless you want to stay here and catch a cold?"

"Incidentally, a child was found dead nearby. So, about that, perhaps I decline..."

"That child committed suicide due to bullying, unfortunately."

Silence stifled our conversation, he didn't want to continue and neither did I. Still, my feet remain planted before the gate. He sighs, saying,

"Then at least indulge me. I'll lend you fresh clothes, serve you food, and have you tucked in—I'll even allow a bath—basically, I'm inviting you in."

The mention of food drew a soft growl from my abdomen, and fortunately, he didn't hear. I eye him sharply, speculating on his motives. He doesn't avert eye contact.

"You can leave by tomorrow—or after receiving my generous aid. Unless you want to stay here, that is."

"If you plan to do strange things to me, I will resist."

"I won't, I won't."

If he intended to abduct me or sell me to a market, he'd no longer breathe. Though I couldn't relieve my suspicions of him, I decided.

His brow lifted, he asks, "Well?"

"Fine."

I accepted reluctantly, nodding obsequiously to further appease his ego—my plans are now in motion.

We shuffle inside—awkwardly, due to the space being small—the gate closes with a small clank. I felt imprisoned.

He knocks on the door, saying, "Suzune, I'm home. We have a visitor."

Once again, dreaded silence crept as we wait. My hands crossed, I observe this house. Certainly, this was...

Determining this the best chance, I initiate conversation. I stare at him, blankly. It had been some time since we met, yet he hasn't offered his name. So, before we enter, I stand persistent in procuring his name.

"Can you tell me your name?"

Watching his eyes widen, I sensed him repress a smile. Then, taking a deep breath, he declares, while simultaneously removing his hood,

"I am Horikita Manabu. Truly a pleasure to have met you."