Where The Lonely Ones Roam.

Part 1.

Usually, it's hard to enrage me, but, honestly, I'm barely holding back from yelling at a guy standing in front of me. I haven't ever met such ignorant individual. That's a phenomen. He looks at me with perplexity, obviously not understanding the cause of anger and for some reason he fidgeting with red threads sewn directly into the skin under the lower lip. Even his appearance implies that the guy is clearly out of his mind. What else can we say about a person, who has his hands, his neck and the rest of his body all in red crosses embroidered just because... Just because "why not?" Add to this complex pale skin, blonde shoulder-length hair and scarlet eyes. Got the appearance of a potential psychopath and he gladly justifies it.

— How can you talk this way? — I ask extremely calmly, holding the edge of my table too tightly.

Everyone who was in the office at the moment of our argument now is staring at the unfolding scene. One of the present even moved imperceptibly closer to my opponent. Probably thinks, that he will attack me? Well, he is able to do so.

— You're being angry. — he says with perplexity, bowing his head to one side.

— It's your fault! — my voice betrays me, but anger gives me strength.

— I begged you to return! Stay with the group! Not to cut the damn connection! Shinohara-san got hurt because of you. If you were there, you would help him.

— I'm better off alone.

He chuckles and turns around to go away, before thinking, i take off and grab his hand.

— And now you're saying you don't care about your mentor!

The boy turns and looks at me, saying nothing, but smiling. Now i realised that I'm playing with fire. I saw this expression on his face several times when it was possible to connect to the cameras during operations. This precise smile appears when the second-class investigator Suzuya Juuzou goes to kill.

— Let me go, — he utters and my fingers lose intensity. — Why should i visit Shinohara-san? He'll come back soon.

— You're insane!

— That's what they say. — the boy simply claims.

— I don't believe you don't care, it's just impossible. — i say desperately.

Suzuya smirking moves closer to me. He leans in to equalise the height difference and drawls the words.

— I do not care.

Then he turns and leaves the office, where the tense silence hung. I continue standing at the same place, trying to calm down. Enough. I can't take it anymore. I'll ask tomorrow about transfer.

I exhale slowly and notice everyone staring at me. My cheeks becomes bright red. I apologise, grabbing my bag and leaving them. Hope this moron is far away from me. My dreams will never come true, Suzuya is standing nearby, leans back against the wall, mumbling something. Our eyes met and I'm going away in order not to continue the quarrel.

Month. I've been holding on for a month. I was thrilled when I got assigned to the Shinohara-san's team. To work with such prominent person right after graduation from an academy, being simple coordinator, not even an investigator. It's indeed dream. Few days later I understood why knowledgeable graduates looked at me with a pity, one of them even wished me good luck. Sometimes, I think that I wasn't successful student as they decided to mock me this way.

Coordinators never take part in combat operations directly. We are that exact people, who sit at the monitor screens and direct investigators, basing on the motion sensors, that operatives put for us. Also we hack security systems, connect to the cameras if they are, but if they aren't, we try to calculate the enemy's position, using usual building circuits or maps if the operation takes place in the open area. Obviously, during the operations we maintain channels of communication with our groups. Plus, coordinators gather the information, make reports and other paperwork investigators hate. Some individuals call us "office's rats". Well, I would watch these smartasses during operations without us. Ghouls will burst out laughing when investigators will be lost in one-storey building. I'm exaggerating.