The White Room Dropout - A CotE Fanfic

Part 43: Severed Ties

December 24th, Christmas Eve...

I sat alone in the dimly lit apartment, the weight of my actions from yesterday pressing upon me. The decision to sever my connection with Kei had been swift, almost uncharacteristically so. I had intended to let the matter linger, to observe and calculate the optimal time for such an action, but circumstances had forced a different course.

As I considered the implications of my choice, a question nagged at my meticulously structured thoughts: Had I acted prematurely? My approach to relationships had always been analytical, driven by logic rather than emotion. Emotions were, in my estimation, a variable that often disrupted one's rationality.

Yet, as I contemplated the abruptness of my actions, a disconcerting sense of uncertainty gnawed at me. Human connections, though puzzling, held a certain value, even if their intricacies escaped my full comprehension.

I found myself in a peculiar mental state, a departure from my usual stoicism. The abrupt end to my association with Kei, along with the realization of its potential consequences, had left an unsettling impression on me. It was strange, this yearning for connection, for a thread that bound me to others, despite my inherent detachment.

I couldn't deny that my interactions with Kei and the people around me had left some mark, like faint ink stains on a meticulously composed document. It was a recognition, albeit grudging, that these human connections had altered me in subtle ways.

But my commitment to pragmatism remained unwavering. What was done couldn't be undone, and I had gathered valuable information through my association with Kei. It was a transaction, a mutual exchange of knowledge. I could only hope that Kei would also derive some benefit from our past.

As I continued my contemplation, the solemnity of my thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a persistent knock on the door. I approached cautiously, peering through the peephole to find Chabasira standing there, her expression fraught with unease.

Opening the door, I was met with her urgent grip as she clasped my hand. Her words were hurried, "You need to come with me, now."

My curiosity piqued, I inquired, "What's going on?"

Chabasira's reply was succinct, "I'll explain later."

With little choice but to comply, I followed her out of my apartment and into a waiting car. The uncertainty of the situation hung in the air, much like the unresolved thoughts that had occupied my mind mere moments ago.

As I settled into the car, my mind was awash with questions. Chabasira's sudden appearance and the urgency in her actions were unsettling. Before I could voice my inquiries, she spoke, her voice measured but tinged with tension.

"The police have discovered an aircraft buried deep under the snow in Hokkaido," she disclosed, her words oozing intrigue, further deepening the enigma shrouding the situation.

Intrigued yet impassive, I probed for more information, "According to our intelligence, Tsukishiro was seen crossing the River Tumen into Russia a few days ago. The buried plane is most likely connected to him." She continued.

Despite the mounting complexity of the situation, I remained my usual composed self as I inquired further, "And what course of action do you propose to take regarding him?"

Chabasira nodded, her expression serious. "Tracking him down is our top priority now that he's likely back in Japan. We need to find out what he's up to."

I contemplated the situation for a moment, my mind analyzing the possibilities. "If he's returned, it implies he has a purpose here."

Chabasira's tone grew more grave as she continued, "He might be on the move, taking advantage of the tense political situation in Japan right now. Ultrationalist sentiments are on the rise, especially among the top brass of the SDF."