𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 (𝓝𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

[ Infiltration ]

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,526

[ 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍. ]

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞. There was a fair breeze drifting through the cooling September air, carrying along the strong smell of pine and exhaust fumes. One could not go far without the striking scent of a depressive cigarette breaching their nose. The trees sighed in retaliation to the gentle force of wind as their branches swayed to and fro above sparsely occupied streets of people.

It was about eight pm, granted, with everyone heading home from their corporate jobs to awaiting families and sweet abodes. Leather wrapped footsteps patting against the dark sidewalk, the familiar buzz of a dying street lamp just a few blocks away. It was pleasant. Quaint.

Then there came a man. A rather handsome man. Adorned in a well fitted dark blue suit, he cut through the vividly orange setting, the flap of his trench coat leaving an ominous energy that could give someone chills from the mere thought of it. His aura was not quite friendly, but not at all dangerous to the public. He grasped a briefcase in his gloved right hand and a phone in his left. He brought this to his ear, murmuring just a few words into the device before dropping it to his side.

Every person on the street he occupied seemed to be heading in the opposite direction than he- presumably to their aforementioned homes. This man pulled against the tide, opting instead to walk with a brisk purpose as if his mysterious doings had already been kicked into action. One single glance at his stark expression, at the wide brimmed hat that covered his well trimmed blond hair, at the briefcase that suspiciously clinked like the sound of metal- specifically a dulled blade- when he stepped... something was very clear.

For many, the day had ended. For others, it had only just begun.

The man walked a few blocks more, never meeting the eye of those on the street but never looking downwards. Passersby didn't dare look his way despite this fact. He paused for a moment as he approached a crosswalk, looking both ways as he stood in place.

In that moment, a sleek black car veered into sight, the driver nearing the curb and braking. They aligned with the mystery man perfectly, the backseat door's handle synced with his outstretched hand. He opened the door without hesitation, ducking inside and closing the door all in one sweet motion. With a revving of the engine, the car sped into the burning horizon.

"Evening, Operative," the driver said as he merged onto a bright lit highway.

The stoic man in the backseat glanced to him and gave something like amusement in his tone: a rare emotion of his during nights like this. "I don't enjoy that pushy title. You know that Ijichi-san. Call me what you and the team used to."

"It's a bit undignified considering how hard you've worked to be where you are." Ijichi paused for a moment. "But I digress. Nanami-san it is."

Kento Nanami leaned back in the seat, satisfied with his colleague's willingness to call him by his family name.

"I presume you know the mission's location?" Ijichi questioned, his spectacled eyes glancing to the rearview mirror.

Nanami subtly nodded. "The Mori Arts Center Gallery."