dissident ｡ nct

2.3 ｡

—Part 2.3—
Infiltration

"You move a single inch and I pull the trigger."
—Katsumi—

"Where the fuck are you going?"

A blunt voice asked from behind me, and I stopped in my tracks.

Turning back, I caught sight of a shadowy figure leaning against a concrete wall just a few feet away. He slanted off the smooth surface, emerging out of the darkness as his boot-clad feet made soft movements towards me. I was just barely able to make out his hoisted brow through the dim light, flexing upward curiously.

As he edged closer, his features were flooded by the glow of my flashlight—I had originally attempted to keep it discreetly hidden. The outline of his angular jaw came into view, obscured by small wisps of golden hair, arched eyes and statuesque nose drawing together skeptically.

Like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, I took a sheepish step back from what was supposed to be my secret path out the back door of the Factionless building.

Xiaojun eyed me, slightly amused, "What time is it, hm? Like midnight?" He stepped past me, lounging back on a small bench pressed against the wall, "What could Nakamura Katsumi possibly be sneaking out for right now?"

Typically, if it had been a person of higher power interrogating me, I would've apologized with my tail tucked between my legs and slipped away from a response. But considering this person was Xiaojun, I knew I could spin a simple web of lies and ease my way out of this situation. He didn't tend to question things that much.

"I just needed a break—I'll ride the train or something. This damn building is so stuffy sometimes, there's dust everywhere, it sucks," I shrugged, smiling as I managed to change the topic, "You know, what's more suspicious was you standing all ominously in the darkness and startling me. What's up with that, Xiao?"

He released a small laugh, "I just got back, I was catching my breath."

I raised a brow, signalling for him to continue.

"Things are going to shit out there, Tsumi. The Factions are absolutely fucked—protests, fighting, rioting. God, it's been going on for weeks, months even," he sighed, leaning his head against the wall, "I wasn't even protesting, just passing by. But I got swept up in the crowd and was chased off the street. Just kept running till I got back here."

There was still a slight heaviness to his breath, so I knew he was being truthful. And he was right;things were going to shit. A clash of factions, rivalries and cliques being formed, disagreements everywhere. We weren't really involved.

I guess, being shunned by society wasn't so bad after all.

Adjusting the bottom of my black sweater, I fiddled with the end of the zipper before pulling it upward slowly—hopeful the action would politely show I wanted to leave. Though the word want wasn't really accurate, I needed to leave. Certain places would start increasing security the longer I waited, and my plans would be impeded on. I had to go.