They threaded through the desecrated landscape.
The closer they got to the city, about 2 and a half miles away, the more devastating the sight became.
Children sobbing as they were carried by masked individuals into shuttles of steel and copper.
Men and women buried under craters of melted glass and burning asphalt.
Limbs being left lying on the ground, half-rotting, if not already charred into the stones beneath them.
The chaos was unlike anything she'd ever seen.
And all the while, as the transit vehicle-about the size of a small minivan-hovered over the wrecked trees and broken streetlights, Akira's mind was still barely able to process everything she'd experienced within the first few hours of the day.
Alex could see it in her blank, shaky expression.
His eyes lost their confusion, replaced with a tender care that he rarely ever understood why he gave to Akira.
"Hey..."
Akira flinched the moment he touched her.
"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Graham hushed.
Juri's breath steamed her lens as she eyed the duo while Jukiko drove the vehicle with reasonable urgency.
"I take it you don't normally see this where you're from, Mr. Graham?"
He hesitated before finally looking at her.
"No..." he said quietly. "At least... never this seriously."
"That tracks," Juri said, her expression still as plain as ever. "Japan's essence density is abnormal in comparison to most countries," she stated, the lake beneath them finally showing lush greenery as the speed of the vehicle slowed. "So while it may be advanced in technology, disasters like these are somewhat normal."
"Oh..."
"Yes."
"Okay..."
He didn't say anything after that, just focused on the violet-haired girl who hadn't said a single thing yet.
For a few moments of silence, the hum of the engine and the subtle tap of drizzle on the windows were all that they could use to ground themselves.
Akira had already counted the internal times the engine stuttered.
It's what kept her mind from freezing.
The flying transit's speed dipped again.
22.
Or maybe 23?
"Akira."
Direct.
Too direct.
Akira subtly inched closer to Graham, but she never looked up to face her.
Juri analyzed her.
Hunched over.
Fists clenched around her sweater.
Stunted breathing.
Her iris darkened.
"Akira," she repeated.
"Y-Yes?"
"Look at me."
...
...
Ah.
So that's why.
Juri unfolded her legs as she leaned forward, invading the hybrid's personal space.
"I said look at me."
"H-Hey, Mrs Juri—"
"I know what I'm doing, Graham."
Akira still refused.
Jukiko's nose twitched from the driver's seat.
("Is that...lavender?") he thought.
Juri's patience ran thin.
Her grip on Akira's cheek was harsh.
Not painful.
Firm.
There was a difference.
Except Akira couldn't tell.
Because the moment she was forced to look up.
For the faintest moment.
She swore she saw his face again.
But the flash of fear drowned under the heat of embarrassment.
Her pupils blew wide as her throat constricted.
Juri saw every single reaction.
And yet she missed the most important one...
"Why are you afraid of me?"
"I-I'm not, I-I just—"
"You're lying," Juri said, firmer, her gray expression darkening further.
Akira's tears welled, grasping Juri's wrist with surprising strength. "I-I'm not, please, just... please stop—"
"Hey, stop, that's enough," Graham said.
The older lady didn't look at him. "Do not intervene."
"I will because you're making her uncomfortable—"
The fingers sank deeper into her soft, blotchy cheeks.
Akira's grip tightened desperately.
"M-Mrs. Juri..." the hybrid whispered shakily now.
Graham's voice came out firmer for the first time. "Juri, that's enough."
Her glasses adjusted under her finger as she dissected Akira before her gaze slid over to Graham.
She let go.
Akira bucked back.
"'Juri'?" she repeated. "Have you forgotten your manners?"
Graham didn't back down.
"I'm sorry, but that was uncalled for. She's a student who's been traumatized by the unfortunate events that just took place, and you're trying to interrogate—"
"Help," Juri interjected. "I am trying to help her."
She looked at Akira.
Akira could feel her intense gaze.
Her body curled up further.
That single act made Juri's suspicions deepen.
"Even if you may not see it yet," she murmured before she looked back at the young blonde professor. "There's something crawling around in her head. I merely wanted to remove it."
"Now's not the time. And she's not obligated to tell you or me," he said quietly, still defiant before relaxing a bit. "She has that right."
Juri didn't respond immediately.
Only looked at the woman who'd constantly flinch the moment she felt her gaze on her back.
"Mm. Yes..."
But she didn't say anything.
At least not when they'd finally arrived at their destination.
•••
Jukiko led them to the front gate, removing his thick white gloves as he let the scanner on the gate read his wrist.
"I'll just drop you guys off at the entrance," he said as the gate welcomed him in.
| "Welcome to the Ayanaki Support Center, Doyararu."
Graham clocked the name.
"Doyararu?"
"It's my codename." Jukiko, or rather Doyararu, explained. "We each get those upon enrollment into the special recruitment."
They walked into the crowded space, similar white-suited men carrying all kinds of people in.
Injured.
Sick.
Wounded.
Akira even saw someone who'd collapsed, and that brought back an unwanted memory.
As they walked in, the scent of lavender trailed behind her as she noticed the odd glances she received from the suited men.
Some paused from their urgent work.
Others nearly dropped the bodies leaning on them.
Graham noticed, hid her under his arm, and asked if she was okay.
Akira nodded.
Instinct.
"The people recruited," Jukiko continued as they walked into the underside of the building, "are mostly Essentials. There are some humans on our rank, but that's the furthest they can go."
"Why?" Graham asked as he watched the young lad use his wrist as a key for a less-packed side of the massive compound.
"Because."
He turned over his shoulder.
| "...Doyararu."
"human beings are weak."
The gate opened.
And they walked into the lesser side of the compound.
The Ayanaki Shelter House.