The room was nearly empty when Pegatha woke up. Only three others were still in bed, and none of them, she realized at a glance, were Arick, Lef or Marc. The bed beside her was empty as were the two beds across the room where the other two boys usually slept. Stretching and rubbing at her eyes, she slipped out of the covers and, after a moment's consideration, decided to leave the bed unmade. It was the weekend and the regime was less strict; there were no lessons to speak of Arick had said, and Deke usually left for the day, leaving them in the care of chaperons. Pegatha stepped onto the floor and, ignoring the pins and needles of cold on her feet from the cement, bent down to gather up some clothes from her backpack to take with her to the bathroom.
Once she'd washed and dressed, she wandered to the kitchen. It, too, was deserted, so she took her time looking through the dry cereals before choosing one and pouring herself a bowl. She thought for a moment about eating by herself and then decided to go looking for Arick and the others.
The training area was more active than the last rooms she'd been in, but Arick, Lef and Marc were still nowhere to be seen. A tall, dark-haired man in a suit and sunglasses was standing against one wall, his hands clasped behind his back as he 'chaperoned' the six or seven kids who had donned robes and were practicing, or just generally roughhousing, on the mats. Pegatha watched the man as she walked along the edge of the room; there was something about the way he was standing, or maybe it was because she couldn't see his eyes, that made her uncomfortable, and she was glad he seemed not to notice her. Perhaps Deke was sort of strange and sometimes she felt as if there was something about himself he was hiding from them, but she preferred him to this example of a stiff and silent chaperon. At least Deke had some personality; this man could've been some sort of robot for all of the humanity he was evidencing.
There was another door in the training room besides the one that led to the basement, and this one opened into a hallway. Since this door was closer, and because there really wasn't anything to do in the basement, she slipped through it and shut it behind her.
There was a lounge to her left with a television, and as she drew nearer she could hear that it was on. In a moment, she was close enough to peer around the door frame. Inside, four boys were sprawled over two couches; the three boys she was looking for, however, were not among them. She was just beginning to wonder if maybe they'd left the building while she'd been asleep when she noticed that the door at the end of the hall, which she'd suspected of being a storage closet because it was always closed, was ajar, and there was sound coming from inside. Curious, she moved forward until she could peek through the opening.
The room was dark, but she recognized the glow of another television reflecting off the faces of the three boys she'd been searching for. They seemed absorbed in a show and didn't notice her until she pushed the door open with an elbow. The room was small and rather cramped, and she was surprised to see rumpled clothes on the floor. Arick and Lef were lounging on a small unmade single bed that was pressed up against one wall while Marc sat nearby in a swivel chair.
"Who's room is this?" she asked.
"The sensei's," Arick answered, not looking up from the television screen where they seemed to be watching the news.
Pegatha frowned dubiously. "Are we allowed to be in here?"
She was answered with a chorus of shushings. Slightly miffed, she hitched a hip up on a corner of the bed and began to watch the show with them, wondering what it was that had them so engrossed.
A woman with voluminous brown hair and dressed in a crisp gray power suit was talking in clipped tones into a mic while standing on a piece of sidewalk. Behind her were a couple of store fronts as well as a number of bystanders, some of whom were talking in groups and pointing at one of the shop windows. Pegatha slurped down a spoonful of cereal as the reporter started talking about the latest late-breaking story.
"Just before ten o'clock yesterday evening, eyewitnesses reported seeing a black car pull up outside of Manny's Clothier on Derringer Avenue. Moments later, four members of the 'Phantom Gang', wearing their trademark ski masks, stepped out of the car and proceeded to break into the store. Manny Reichfield, owner and manager of Manny's Clothier, said they managed to get away with six thousand gil in cash from the safe. No one was injured, but things may have progressed downhill if not for the intervention of a stranger."
The scene on the television changed to the kitchen of a small house, or perhaps an apartment, where sat a young woman with long brown hair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. A title bar at the bottom of the screen identified her as Sheila Reichfield, daughter of the owner.
"I ran out into the street after my father, afraid that they were going to beat him; I shouted for them to leave him alone. I begged my father to just let them have the money. But...but then, one of the men picked me up and started carrying me back into the store. I was terrified he was going to rape me." She put a hand to her cheek in remembered distress and looked into her lap. After a moment, however, she raised her eyes again. "Then this man appeared from out of nowhere. He was tall and dressed in black; at first, I thought he was another robber. But he wasn't; he saved us. He pulled me away to safety, and then he fought with the men until they were all lying on the ground. He told us to call the police, and then he left."
The scene switched back to the reporter. "Who was this 'Phantom Vigilante'? A member of the police force or merely a concerned citizen? The police have made no statement as of yet concerning the identity of the Reichfields' savior, but one thing is certain: the Reichfields owe him a debt of thanks. For NCNews, this is Hara Bates."
The news report ended as the program went on to talk about the latest city developments planned for Neo-Midgar by its representative council. Pegatha's attention wavered and she turned back to her cereal which was slowly gaining the characteristics of a bowl of mush. From the other side of Arick, she heard Lef mutter to Marc, "Do you think he could've been a cop?"
"No," Marc asserted immediately. "I'll bet you twenty gil he's not even from North Corel."
"Why wouldn't he be from North Corel?"
Marc only shook his head.
Pegatha finally noticed that Arick was looking at her. She glanced at him questioningly. "What?"
"You'd tell me, wouldn't you?" he asked quietly.
"Tell you what?"
"If it was your dad?"
"What?"
Arick shuffled closer to her as Lef and Marc left off their own conversation to try to listen in. "You said he'd taken another job."
"What's this?" Lef asked suddenly.
Pegatha shook her head incredulously. "You think it's my dad?"
"Is it?"
"It's your dad?" Lef gasped.
"No," Pegatha answered loudly. "Yeah right it'd be my dad."
"He took down the guys in your shop," Arick pointed out.
"Yeah, but that was..." She frowned a little. She wanted to explain, but not in a way that would convince him further that it was her father. "Look, you don't know my dad, all right. When this first started and the police were calling our house, I thought maybe they were giving him a job, too. But then they stopped calling and I realized that, even if they had asked him, my dad would've said no. He's the type of person who believes that everyone has things they can do and that they shouldn't try to go beyond their talents. He had some training when he was young so he used it to stop the gang from robbing us, but he doesn't know anything about gangs or saving people or...or anything. He'd leave it to people who know what they're doing. Plus..." She took a breath. "He's already got another job that leaves him no time even to eat, hardly, let alone go around at night trying to stop robberies."
"How do you know that isn't his other job?" Arick persisted.
Pegatha sighed. "Because of what I just said. And my mom's already told me that he's out helping at other gun shops, making guns for them after they've been robbed. No one makes a gun as fast as my dad can. That's his talent." Actually, her mother had only hinted that her father was helping other gun shops, but she didn't want to give the impression that there was any doubt left.
Arick seemed to mull this around in his head for a moment before finally deciding with a droop of his shoulders that her mother wouldn't lie to her.
Pegatha slurped down some more of her cereal and turned back to the television. "Just because the guy's tall and dressed in black doesn't automatically mean it's my dad," she said quietly.
"Fine, all right, it's not your dad," Arick acquiesced irritably. There was a small pause before he continued. "But, whoever it is, I'm glad somebody's finally doing something."
"Like one man against the whole gang is going to make that much difference," Marc mumbled.
"Hey, haven't you ever been to a history class?" Arick quipped. "Sephiroth the Mad nearly destroyed the whole planet single-handedly. And it doesn't matter if the guy's working by himself right now. At least somebody's started standing up to them."
Marc snorted. "Started? You make it sound as if all of North Corel's going to rise up and join him in 'throwing off the oppressor'. Yeah, right."
Arick scowled at him. "What's your problem? You don't have to be so damn depressing all the time."
"Sorry for being realistic," Marc retorted. "I guess you haven't noticed, but no one in North Corel helps anyone else. I actually feel sort of sorry for this guy for trying to do something; I'll bet you anything he'll be killed in the next couple of weeks, and no one will have tried to help him. And no one will take up after him." He scoffed suddenly. "Look at us, after all. Sure, we're learning martial arts, but what are we doing with it? Nothing. Hiding out."
Arick glared at Marc. "I'm not hiding. I want to do something. And I'll bet you that Mr. Brescher is using this dojo to teach us how to fight the gang. I wouldn't be surprised if the guy out there is someone hired by him."
Marc gave a sudden mirthless laugh.. "Yeah right. You think that if you want, Arick. And even if Brescher is doing that, it's not like twenty kids are going to be able to do anything if the police can't." He stood. "I'm going to get something to eat." He pushed his way past the bed and left the room.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Arick turned to Lef. "What's wrong with him?"
Lef merely shrugged and went back to watching the television.
Arick huffed a little and leaned back against the wall. "Mr. Brescher probably is training us to fight against the gang. That's what the higher level classes are about, I'll bet." Pegatha didn't say anything. He turned to her suddenly. "Are you going home next week?"
She glanced up from another bite of cereal. "I don't know. Maybe. Why?"
"Deke said this morning that classes are starting in the Gold Saucer, so you don't have to go to school anymore if you don't want to. And that way your parents can't, you know..."
"Find me?" Pegatha grimaced. "My mom's not worried. And my dad's probably too busy to worry. I doubt either of them are even thinking about me."
"Like my mom's not thinking about me," Arick said with a humourless smile. "We'll have to be each other's family." Pegatha thought she felt his fingers ghost over the back of her hand, but by the time she looked he was moving to scratch the back of his neck. "Except I suppose you have to go home at some point."
"Yeah," Pegatha said noncommittally. But not until dad goes home first... Lef had changed the channel while they'd been talking and now the television was showing a cartoon. She watched for a second before losing interest. The empty bowl in her hand drew her attention and she realized that she had better go deposit it in the sink. As she was moving from the bed, her eyes fell upon the sensei's cluttered desk where lay a telephone. She glanced at Arick.
"Hey, do you think I'd be able to use that phone to call my mom later?" she asked.
Arick shrugged. "I don't see why not. Deke probably won't even be back until after midnight. He rarely is on weekends."
Pegatha nodded. "Well, I'm going to go make my bed and stuff. Are you going to practice later?"
"Yeah, probably, for a little while. We were going to go to the arcade later, too. Do you want to come?"
Pegatha thought about this for a moment. She didn't have much money to spend on arcade games, and she wasn't really very fond of them, but she eventually nodded. There would be nothing to do if Arick and the other two boys left and she didn't want to stay in the dojo when she didn't know anyone else.
Arick smiled, the first genuine smile she'd seen from him in awhile. "I'll even give you some gil for the games if you'll make my bed," he offered.
Pegatha made a face at him. "Yeah right. Nice try." She wanted to grab the pillow and smack him with it, but since it was at the other end of the bed she settled for pinching his knee instead. He squawked and hit her hand away. "Ouch! Pegatha, that hurt!"
Pegatha chuckled and for a moment it felt like they were hanging out during recess or after school. She was glad to have regained that, at least, at a time when it felt as if everything else good in her life had slipped out of her grasp.
It was only while she was making her bed that Arick's words came back to her, and she fully realized the implications of what he'd said. We'll have to be each other's family...
Her mind finished the thought before she could stop it, and, true or not, the idea frightened her: ...because we're all we have left.
Vincent glanced over his shoulder as the door to Neilson's office opened and then turned fully from the cork board as the inspector stepped into the room. There was a small wry smile quirking a corner of Neilson's mouth, though his eyes, dull and weary, made the smile joyless. "I thought I told you to take a day off," he said.
"You said you had some new information," Vincent replied.
"Yes, but I also said it could wait."
Vincent didn't comment. Neilson sighed a little before pulling the chair out from his desk and dropping himself into it. "Well, I suppose it's your prerogative if you want to come in on a weekend. Though I think it might be good for you if you take some time off from this."
"What's the new information?"
Neilson glanced at him. "Business as always, eh? Well, it isn't anything ground-breaking. There have been a lot of kids, teenagers mostly, reported missing in the last few weeks, and we think the gun-runners are recruiting them since they did a similar thing in Neo-Midgar. I thought that might give you another thing to look out for. I can give you pictures and names of the kids so that you'll recognize them if you see them. Sound good?"
But Vincent didn't seem to be listening any longer. His expression had hardened while Neilson had been talking and his eyes had focused on an undefined point across the room. Neilson was surprised by the change. "Hey, is something wrong?"
Vincent came back to himself as if suddenly remembering where he was. "No," he answered after a moment. "Nothing." He collected himself. "Thank you, Inspector. I'll likely be back tomorrow."
"Wait, don't you want the information on the kids?"
"I may not need it," he replied cryptically, and then he left the station.
It was nearly three in the afternoon when Vincent walked through the door of the apartment. At his arrival Elira sat up in the armchair in the living room where she'd been resting and reading and opened her mouth to speak. The intensity in his look as he approached, however, stopped her tongue.
He halted in front of her. "Has Pegatha called yet?"
"Yes, I was just about to tell you..."
"Dammit." He paced away from her and then came back. "And I'm assuming she still hasn't given any indication of her whereabouts."
Vincent rarely swore and she'd only ever seen him agitated enough to pace a couple of times. "What's wrong?" she asked him, feeling some concern bubble up from the pit of her stomach. Why was he suddenly so worried about Pegatha?
He stopped pacing to glance at her. "Pegatha and Arick may be in trouble, and I doubt they even realize it. I need to know where they are. Did she ever talk about a place, any place, that she and Arick visited together?"
"Well, yes," Elira replied a little anxiously. "She was going to this dojo with Arick every day after school."
"Did she ever say where?"
Elira frowned, trying to remember. "No, she never did."
Vincent sighed and ran a hand into his hair. "I'll have to see if I can find it," he murmured almost to himself.
Elira's anger at him had survived throughout the day, hitting its explosive peak after he'd phoned the police station and left, when Pegatha had called during the half hour he'd been gone. She'd only asked him to be there to talk to their daughter and he hadn't even done that. But now, as she saw his real concern for Pegatha's well-being as he, too, came to believe she might be in some trouble, she felt some of her anger melt away. She felt the absurd desire to say 'I told you so' but managed to keep it to herself. Instead, she told him, "She'll probably try to call tomorrow."
Vincent nodded. "Until then, maybe I can find some kind of clue to point me in the right direction."
He was turning away when Elira grabbed his sleeve. "Do you really think she's in trouble?"
As he moved back to face her, their hands collided, the first time they'd touched since the previous evening's argument. Elira only hesitated a moment before taking his hand in both of hers. The warm pressure of his palm against her own instantly made her feel a little better.
Vincent glanced down at their clasped hands as if he'd forgotten what he was going to say. "I hope not," he answered her eventually. "I don't know. But if she is, I'll find her. Don't worry."
Elira gave a faint smile. "Me, worry? Never."
Vincent's lips quirked in amusement, but too soon his expression regained its solemnity. "I have to go, Elira," he told her quietly.
She sighed. "I know. I was expecting that." She released his hand. "Will you be home late tonight?"
"I don't know. I'll try not to be."
"All right."
The last glimpse Vincent had of Elira before he stepped out of the apartment showed her to be curled up in the armchair, becoming reabsorbed in her book. The last time he recalled seeing her so had been years ago during her pregnancy with Pegatha when he'd all but forced her to remain at home. She'd spent hours in that armchair while he'd been at work, reading, even knitting sometimes, waiting to greet him when he walked through the door. How simple things had been then.
But there was no time now to be thinking of the past. He had things to do, like visit Mr. Harrows to find out when his next drop-off date was, and look for this dojo and Pegatha. Things to do in the hopes that life would one day be simple again.