Identity - Rewritten

Chapter Twenty-Four

April 2009

Jasper can hear nothing but the early evening chirp of crickets and the occasional lazy hum of a distant car. To anyone else, this quiet symphony of almost-nighttime sounds might be perfectly normal, but to him it's a welcomed relief. His time in the countryside had made Jasper lose his desensitization to the raucous sounds of the city, and even after a month of living with Noah as his official, rent-paying roommate, he still has yet to become reaccustomed to them.

The man in question raises a worn, dirty baseball like it's a dangerous weapon, the soon-to-set sun brightening the sky behind him and settling his messy golden curls on fire. "You ready for the ultimate pitch?" he asks, the white teeth of his grin seeming even brighter against his now shadowed skin.

"Just throw the ball," Jasper says, allowing himself the smallest of laughs. Noah's a fantastic shortstop, but he's got his eyes on the open pitching spot on his– now their– recreational team. Which Jasper would fully support, if he wasn't a terrible pitcher.

Noah lets out a loud, mock gasp, as if offended by Jasper's withering response, throwing his free hand dramatically over his heart. While Noah makes some comment about how he's going to unleash a perfected pitch, Jasper has an extreme flash of doubt– about who he is, what he's doing here. For the last month, besides working his regular shifts at the mechanic's and playing ball with Noah, all he'd done is look for Sumiko.

Hunter, Rand, and Mindy hadn't stayed long, only a week. As soon as Jasper had decided it was safe for them to go back home, he made sure that they did, since Noah seemed perfectly fine with Jasper staying however long he wanted. Mindy had tried to convince him to let at least her stay, but instead he'd done what he'd been needing to do for a long time, and let go. Their relationship had always been one of convenience, and now she was maybe in danger and maybe so were her brother and his best friend. So Jasper kissed her on the cheek and bought her a bus ticket, and that was that.

As soon as they were gone, Jasper went back to Ryo's old hideout. It was empty, back to looking like any old industrial building, as if they'd never been there. It wasn't that surprising that they'd moved shop: if Ryo had continued taking on more people, they'd have needed a bigger place by now. But no matter how hard he looked, or where he went, it seemed that both Ryo's patchwork quilt of mercs and Sumiko herself had disappeared without a trace.

Everything, everywhere, and everyone he could possibly think of that would give him a clue to where she'd gone, he tried. But he'd had no luck; Sumiko is a ghost.

"Get ready for this," Noah warns, winding up.

Jasper just rolls his eyes in response. In seconds, the baseball goes flying: feet outside of the reach of Jasper's bat. It slams into the fence behind him, and they both pause for a second, watching it drop listlessly to the ground.

"Well, fuck," Noah says.

Jasper laughs, and picks up the grit-covered ball , yet another chuckle escaping his lips as he turns to face Noah. "Maybe we should call it a day," he suggests, as he takes stock of the almost-set sun and the shadows eclipsing the small practice field.

Noah walks over to him, looking up at Jasper sheepishly as he pulls the battered ball from his grasp. "That... may be a good idea," he says, weakly, and threads his fingers through his hair. Jasper doesn't fail to notice the faint, embarrassed blush on his cheeks as he turns and begins to pack up his duffel bag.

While waiting for him, Jasper leans against the metal fence behind them, swatting at the few mosquitos that try to invade his personal space. The air is warm, the warmest it's been in a long while, and the bugs are just beginning to come back.