Chapter Text
When you look at a city, it's like reading the hopes, aspirations and pride of everyone who built it. - Hugh Newell Jacobsen.
“...get in the car!”
That voice...Ren didn’t recognise that voice. What would a stranger be doing out at this time?
“Stop it!”
Wait. Was that…
She was in trouble. Someone had to help her.
Ren knew these streets like the back of his hand. He could make it there in no time.
There, at the end of the street. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew who she was. She worked at that convenience store two streets away from his house. The man next to her...bald, with a suit. Clearly drunk. And his hands were on her shoulders.
“Don’t you dare cross me…”
The house next door, their lights were still on. How could they ignore something like this?
Someone had to help her.
He stepped forward, close enough that he could see the fear on her face.
“You think you’re worth the trouble you’re causing me?”
“I-I’ll call the police!”
The man threw his head back, laughing.
“Oh, you think that they can save you? What a joke.”
“Hey!”
The bald man twisted his head around. His face was so red, it practically glistened in the light of the streetlamps.
“We’re in the middle of something here, kid. Get lost. ”
He could feel the arrogance dripping off of the man’s words. It was almost suffocating.
“Get your hands off of her, asshole.”
The man’s eye twitched. He shoved the woman aside and staggered forward.
“Did you not hear what I said? Get. Lost.”
Even from here, Ren could smell the alcohol on the bald man’s breath.
“Oh, I heard you loud and clear. But I don’t think you heard what I said.”
“You think you can talk to me like that? Do you have any idea who I am?”
He shook his head.
“Of course not,” the bald man snarled. “You bumpkins have no idea what life is like in the places that matter. I’ve done more for my city than any of you will ever dream of!”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sir...but we’re not in the city right now. You’re in our town.”
Ren took a step forward.
“And you don’t fuck with our town.”
Sirens. Ren glanced at the woman, who was putting her phone away. Good work.
“You little - ”
The bald man lunged forward. Ren stepped out of the way, the man’s fist whipping past him. He stumbled, his feet slipping out from under him, and Ren watched as his forehead hit the pavement with a thud.
Ren let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
The man slowly staggered to his feet, clutching his forehead. His glasses lay broken at his feet.
As he turned around, Ren could swear that his eyes were literally burning.
The bald man opened his mouth, and like a feedback loop on a microphone, his voice became louder and louder, his words echoing infinitely, piercing into Ren’s eardrums and reverberating in his skull.
“ You just made the worst mistake of your life. ”
“We will be arriving at Shibuya shortly. Please ensure that you have taken all of your belongings…”
Ren Amamiya woke up with a gasp. He was on...a train. There were people around him, some tired-looking businessmen, two girls in school uniforms checking their phones.
Ren rubbed the sleep dust from his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, but that dream...he’d never had a dream that vivid before. It felt like he was back on that street in his hometown -
Oh, right. His “hometown”.
They just...abandoned him. Nobody said anything in his defence, not even the woman who was right fucking there . After everything that he had done...
No, he had other things to think about right now. Namely, how to survive Shibuya Station. The mere thought of the crowds there made Ren shudder.
“Wait, are you for real?”
The girls in front of him were talking. Ren looked out the window, trying his best not to eavesdrop.
“A mental shutdown. One moment you’re a-okay, the next you’re completely blacked out, doing some crazy shit.”
It didn’t work.
“Man, you’re really into that occult stuff…”
“It’s not ‘occult stuff’, okay?! It’s real! I read that the victims feel like they’re dreaming, like their brains are going on autopilot and they can’t stop themselves. It’s so scary!”
“You really shouldn’t be sounding so excited about that, you know.”
“Shut up!”
Ren took off his glasses and started to clean them. This was going to be a long day.
“Take the Den-en-toshi Line Local towards Chuorinkan, then walk 8 minutes to reach Yongen-Jaya...”
Ren buried his face into his guidebook, trying to weave his way through the mass of people surrounding him and avoid the glares of the people he squeezed past. The Tokyo subway system; a labyrinth of concrete walls and salarymen. He felt like he was travelling through the digestive tract of some giant monster, slowly pushed through by the walls of moving people until he was spat out into the city. It was suffocating and noisy and extremely unpleasant.
So in other words, it’s home, Ren thought grimly.
After several minutes of pushing and being pushed, Ren finally made it onto the street, which was somehow just as claustrophobic as the underground. Still, Ren enjoyed the fresh air as much as he could as he shuffled forward.
The crowds parted for a brief moment to allow him to see Shibuya Crossing. The busiest road intersection in the world… it certainly lived up to its reputation.
Standing at the side of the road, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green, Ren finally had a moment to take everything in. The crowds were the first thing on his mind. He’d never seen this many people in one place at the same time. All of them seemed distracted; some talking, some looking at their phone, some listening to music. Yet they all moved in unison, taking practised steps across roads that they must have walked through countless times.
He knew how that felt. At least in his...former hometown. It would take a while for him to feel it again.
Suddenly, everyone around him began to move, taking Ren with them. Tall as he was, Ren could still only barely see in front of the crowd of heads. Oh well; he knew where he was going, he’d be fine. Right?
So, he’d need to find the statue of Hachiko, which was next to the big green subway car, the “Green Frog” or something? Then he’d take a left into the building, then transfer to the Ginza line - wait, no, that was for school, right now he’d need to take the train to Yongen-Jaya…
Ren’s train of thought was interrupted by suddenly bumping into something in front of him. He muttered a quick apology, then walked around the person in front of him to -
Wait. Why had they stopped?
For the first time in several minutes, Ren looked up.
Why had everyone stopped?
As far as Ren could see, Shibuya Crossing had stopped moving. Faces were frozen in tired grimaces and mid-conversation smiles. Even the wind, which had been blowing through his hair all this time, was still.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Ren said, tapping the shoulder of the man next to him. No response.
He could feel his breath catch in his throat and his pulse quickening. Oh god, not now.
“Okay, remember your breathing. 4 counts in, 7 counts hold, 8 counts out. Slow, and deep…”
A flash of light brought Ren out of his stupor. It came from the middle of the intersection. Ren took a cautious peek.
There was a door made of vertical iron bars standing in the centre of the road. Dark blue light and mist gathered behind it, held back by some invisible force. It glowed softly, even in the mid-afternoon light.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Ren could hear voices. Hundreds, no, thousands, overlapping like waves in a storm. And they were calling to him.
“ Ren we can help you let us help you listen to us we need someone to speak for us all of us are behind you something bad is about to happen you can’t just stand by someone has to help ”
Was this really happening? Had the stress finally made him snap? Were hallucinations a symptom of anything bad? He couldn’t be late, he needed to get to Yongen-Jaya right now, or else he could be reported to the police!
Just as suddenly as they had begun, the voices stopped. Slowly, the door swung shut.
Ren blinked, and everything started to move again.
“What the fuck was that?” Ren mumbled to himself. Then he realised that he was standing still. In the middle of Shibuya Crossing.
With an extremely confused pep in his step, Ren scrambled across the road.
“ Mumble mumble mumble your presence in this school is a privilege that mumble mumble mumble offences will not be tolerated mumble mumble mumble we will not hesitate to …”
If Ren had learned one life skill during the hell that was the probation process, it was the art of hiding boredom. The principal’s droning voice had long since faded into a low buzzing sound, and he just had to nod at appropriate pauses and give one-word answers to anything that sounded like a question.
“Amamiya-san?”
Oh god, a different voice. Ren looked over at the woman standing next to the principal’s desk. Thankfully, she looked just as tired as he felt, so his brief look of panic went unnoticed.
“Come straight to the faculty office when you arrive at Shujin tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to the class. Don’t be late, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ren replied, dutifully hiding the fact that he had forgotten her name. Oops.
“That settles that, then.” The principal shifted his chair back and stood up. “Remember, Kawakami-san (there we go) will be unable to protect you should any problems arise. You are responsible for all of your actions, and we cannot allow the reputation of this school to suffer because of your failures.”
Kawakami sighed deeply. “Principal Kobayakawa, are you sure that I’m the right person for this? There had to have been better candidates...”
“Unfortunately, your class was the only one with a vacancy. And don’t sell yourself short! You can handle this student without issue, right?”
Ren could see the dead look in her eyes. “Yes, Principal Kobayakawa.”
“Wonderful! Now, let’s discuss the matter of the assembly tomorrow…”
Ren took that as his cue to leave and quietly excused himself.
Coming down the stairs, he spotted the white fedora and pink shirt of the man who would be taking care of him for the next year and, potentially, beyond.
“What took you so long?” Sojiro grumbled. Ren stretched out, yawning.
“The principal really loves the sound of his voice. I lost count of how many times he said ‘reputation’.”
Sojiro gave Ren a withering stare, but he could see the corner of his lips twitch upwards. “Watch your attitude, kid. One wrong word from that principal and you’re getting sent to juvie.”
“Knowing him, it’d be a hell of a lot more than one word.”
“Of all the kids, why did I have to get the smartass…” Sojiro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, it’s a long ride home; if you need to take a leak, get it over with now. I’m gonna go have a smoke.”
Ren raised his eyebrow. “On school grounds?”
Sojiro’s stare intensified. “Do you want to go, or not?”
Ren raised his hands in surrender and headed down the hallway. Sojiro wouldn’t admit it, but Ren could tell that he had been just as bored in that office. He never did come back from that convenient phone call, after all. Sojiro had treated him just like anyone else did when they learned about his arrest; cold, distant and more than a little suspicious. But he had given him a roof over his head, a mattress to sleep on and someone to banter with, so he wasn’t all bad. If he only stopped glaring at him so often...
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Ren took his time to explore the first floor on his way to the bathroom. Ren’s expectations of Shujin Academy were low, but god , this place was boring. The only interesting thing that Ren had noticed on the “tour” (really just part 1 of the principal’s lecture) were the volleyball players in the gymnasium. He’d never seen a school put so much focus on one sport before. Apparently, the volleyball coach won a gold medal in the Olympics and the school decided to base their entire sports programme on him.
Briefly, Ren mused about joining the team. He could probably get on the roster pretty easily, thanks to his height, and staying active might help to take his mind off of things. Then he realised that joining the team would put even more attention on him, and his stomach churned. Nope. Definitely a bad idea.
Ren’s hand absent-mindedly went into his pocket and fished out his phone. It was a good phone, and one of the few things that his parents had ever splurged their money on. Keep it on you at all times, they said. If you break it or lose it, all of our money will have gone to waste because of you. Ren never liked the way they said “because of you”, but their advice had worked so far; the screen was spotless and free of cracks, scratches and damages of any kind. It had a decent-enough camera, if he cared about that sort of thing. The wallpaper was set to cycle through an album of pictures of Tokyo, and right now it had settled on a picture of the Tokyo National Museum in Ueno Park at sunrise. The case, cheap but sturdy, was deep red with gold highlights around its edges.
No new messages, Ren thought. Then he mentally smacked himself. Of course there’s no new messages. You deleted most of your contacts from home. They didn’t want to talk to you. Nobody does.
Before Ren’s thoughts spiralled even further, something on his home screen caught his attention. Something red, square and gently pulsing, sending what looked like ripples across the image of the museum. An...app?
Strange. Ren knew that he hadn’t downloaded anything recently other than the Tokyo Metro App. And the app didn’t have a logo that Ren could recognise or even a name. Just the design of an eye, staring straight into his soul.
Just my luck. Not even a week in the city and my phone already has a virus. Ren grimaced, tapped on the app’s icon and dragged it into the trash bin. Hopefully, his data was safe now; then again, it’s not like there was anything vitally important on his phone aside from some pictures of stray cats -
“Oof!”
Something heavy bumped into Ren’s side, sending him stumbling. He heard something drop and a high-pitched, feminine voice cry out. Ren turned to the source and saw a girl around his age wearing a red tracksuit with white stripes. Her curly, shoulder-length auburn hair immediately reminded him of an extremely soft dog he had seen on the way to the station the other day. The girl looked up at Ren with a guilty look on her face.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention when I turned the corner and I didn’t expect anyone to be in this hallway. Please forgive me!” Then, to Ren’s surprise, the girl bowed.
After a brief moment to process the fact that someone just bowed to him, Ren regained his composure. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said, looking down at the two large bags that were now placed on the floor. “Lemme help you pick those up.”
Ren bent down, picked up the bag, and almost instantly felt his arm muscles scream in agony. This girl was carrying two of these things?
“No, please, it’s fine. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” The girl’s voice was soft and kind, but with a subtle firmness behind every word.
“I’m alright,” Ren lied. “Just...where did you want to take these?”
The girl pointed in the direction of a door only a few steps away. Ren silently thanked whatever god that was listening. His muscles were protesting so much, they were about to unionise.
After the most strenuous ten seconds of Ren’s life in Tokyo, both bags were safely deposited at the base of the door. Ren leaned against the door, not so subtly trying to catch his breath.
The girl bowed again (it didn’t feel any less weird) and smiled brilliantly. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry to trouble you, especially on your day off.”
“No, really, it’s fine,” Ren said, waving his hand. “Technically, I’m not even starting school until tomorrow.”
“Oh?” The girl tilted her head, curious. “Are you a transfer student?”
Great. The question Ren dreaded answering ever since he was put on probation.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Ren sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I moved here from a town just outside of Tokyo. Pretty small, but comfortable in its own way.” Ren silently offered another prayer to the non-specific god observing them that she wouldn’t ask why he’d moved to Tokyo.
“That sounds wonderful. I hope you enjoy your time here. It’s a bit overwhelming to start with, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough!”
...huh. That wasn’t the response Ren expected. He murmured a quick “thank you”, then took another look at the girl.
She was shorter than him, as most people were, but the way that she carried herself made it seem like she was just as imposing. Her tracksuit looked very neatly ironed with the exception of the pants, which had fresh dirt marks on her knees. Her hands, manicured and well-moisturized, also had the faintest hint of dirt underneath her fingernails. Coupled with the heavy bags of something that smelled faintly of ammonia…
“Are you the president of the gardening club?” Ren asked.
The girl clapped her hands in surprise. “That’s right! Well, if you could call being the only member the president.”
Ren smiled. He had always prided himself on his ability to read people. It was one of the few skills that he could carry over from small-town life, along with an extremely detailed memory for faces and being able to dodge bicycles like a champ.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” The girl stuck her hand out. “I’m Haru Okumura. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance!”
Ren cautiously took her hand. He was a bit wary of giving out his name to a stranger, especially one in a school that had most definitely heard about his criminal record. But something about her earnest smile and cheery attitude made him trust her that extra bit more.
“Ren Amamiya. The pleasure’s all mine,” he said with a firm shake.
Haru giggled. “Thank you, Amamiya-san. I hope that we can meet again sometime soon - oh!” Her eyes widened. Ren tensed instinctively; did she recognise his name?
“I forgot to put the watering can back in the storage closet! I must be going. It was nice meeting you!” And with that, she took off down the hallway, leaving Ren to sigh in relief.
That wasn’t so bad, Ren smiled. If everyone in this school was like that...no, don’t kid yourself. That girl’s probably the exception. As soon as they find out why you’re here...
Even as his own mind scolded him, he couldn’t help but smile. A friendly face...Ren had almost forgotten what that looked like.
The moment Ren stepped back into his room, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. Changing into his sleep clothes was all that he could manage before he flopped down onto the bed.
Ren’s room wasn’t much to look at. The only things that separated it from its intended use as an attic were the bed shoved into the far and the relative lack of dust on the furniture. It still needed a lot more cleaning; the shelves and desk stared at Ren, their plastic sheets and stacks of ancient books taunting him with their messiness. One day, he’d be able to defeat them. But not today.
His concentration, or lack thereof, was suddenly broken by a small chime and a buzz beside his head. His phone...who could be texting him at this hour?
Unlocking his phone, Ren’s confusion grew. No notifications from the messenger app, no new emails, not even a news alert. But there was one thing different about his phone. That red, pulsing app had reappeared, and now it was right in the middle of his screen.
“Persistent little bastard, aren’t you?” Ren muttered. Once again, Ren dragged the app to his trash bin and triple-checked that it had been deleted for good.
As soon as he finished, the wave of exhaustion hit him again, forcing a yawn out of him. Well, no use fighting it now. Time to get some shut-eye.
Ren closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and relaxed. His thoughts began to drift, occasionally congealing into something more concrete. The meeting with Principal Koba...something or other, Haru Okumura, the app...soon, Ren’s thoughts settled on that strange blue door he saw when he first arrived in Tokyo. The more he thought about it, the weirder it got. Did he really see it? Why Shibuya Crossing? What were those voices?
As the questions filled his head, he saw the door in his mind’s eye, glowing dark blue, tendrils of mist curling around it. He saw it swing open again, without the chorus of voices this time; the sounds of faint whispering replaced it instead, which Ren found even creepier.
He walked forward. Peering inside, he couldn’t see anything beyond the door; just more blue light.
Then something hit him in the back, hard, and he stumbled into the open door.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ren could hear the voice of a biology teacher from his hometown. “Do you know what a hypnic jerk is? It’s the falling sensation that you feel sometimes right before you go to sleep, the kind that you wake up from with your heart pounding against your chest.”
Incidentally, that’s what Ren was experiencing at this moment. Except he wasn’t waking up. He kept falling, deeper into the blue void. He saw giant chains, handcuffs, shackles floating in the space around him. He tried to scream, but his mouth couldn’t move and his limbs felt paralyzed. He fell, further and further -
Then his eyes snapped open, and he was staring at an entirely unfamiliar ceiling.
Ren sat up slowly, the adrenaline still surging through his body. The surface underneath him felt hard and cold, and Ren suddenly became aware that he wasn’t on a bed anymore. It was a slab of stone jutting out of a wall. Like in...a jail cell.
Ren’s stomach churned. He was in a jail cell. The iron bars on his right and the toilet sticking out of the wall confirmed it. He tried to stand up, but a weight on his left ankle jerked him back downwards. Looking down, he realized that he had an honest-to-God ball and chain attached to his leg. And his clothes had changed too; he was wearing a loose-fitting shirt and pair of pants, both white with black stripes running across them.
Outside the door to the cell, someone cleared their throat. Slowly, Ren turned to face them.
The room outside of Ren’s cell was circular, surrounded by similar-looking cells. The walls were lined with a soft, dark blue plush material that reminded Ren of an old couch he had seen once in an antique shop. An equally old-fashioned rug was spread across the floor in the centre of the room, along with a wooden desk; placed on top of it was a gramophone, currently playing a piano & opera song that Ren couldn't recognise. And sitting at the desk was the man who had cleared his throat.
His limbs were marionette-thin. His suit was creaseless and perfectly tailored. He had bulging, almost bloodshot eyes, white hair surrounding a large bald spot in the middle of his scalp. And his nose was the longest Ren had ever seen.
The long-nosed man raised his hand, palm facing upward, and smiled.
“Trickster. Welcome to the Velvet Room.”
Despite the weight on his ankle, Ren still managed to jump out of the bed and press himself against the back wall.
“Do not be frightened,” the man chuckled, his voice high-pitched and nasal yet somehow still compelling. “Your body is currently fast asleep in reality.”
Unsurprisingly, this did not help Ren calm down one bit. “W-Who are you?” Ren finally stammered out. “And what the hell is a Velvet Room?”
The man steepled his fingers. “Ah, forgive me for my manners. It has been quite some time since we received a guest. My name is Igor, the master of this place. And this is my assistant, Lavenza.”
Igor gestured to his side and Ren suddenly noticed the young girl standing right there. She couldn’t have been much older than 12, but her posture was so straight and poised that it made Ren self-conscious. Her silver hair reached all the way down to her waist, with a butterfly hair clip to keep it out of her amber-yellow eyes. She wore a frilly dress that matched the colour of the walls. Under her arm, she held a truly massive book; Ren could just make out the word “COMPENDIUM” on the cover.
“It’s my pleasure to serve you, Trickster,” Lavenza said, giving a small curtsy.
“As for the matter of ‘what’...this place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter, on the borders of the realm of the unconscious and the conscious. It is both real and unreal, material yet formless. A true paradox, and the site of powerful magic.”
Ren nodded dimly, his hands grasping the bars a little too tightly.
“Its appearance reflects the state of its user’s heart. To think it would appear as such…” Igor’s eyes peered around him, a look of pity washing across his face. “You truly are a ‘prisoner of fate’, Trickster.”
Ren scoffed. That’s a little on the nose, isn’t it? Ack, stop thinking about his nose!
“So, what? Am I supposed to serve my sentence here? Rehabilitate into an upstanding member of society and all that jazz?” Ren’s words flowed out of him; he hoped that Igor wouldn’t notice the trembling in his voice.
“Oh no, nothing of the sort,” Igor chuckled again. “In fact, you are here because you’re well on your way to becoming a pillar of the community.”
Ren baulked. “Are you sure you have the right guy? I just got here. I’m on probation, for Christ’s sake.”
Igor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think we would have contacted you if we did not know who you were the moment you stepped foot in the city?”
Ren’s mind wandered back to Shibuya Crossing and the glowing blue door.
“Wait...in Shibuya, when I first arrived. Was that you?”
Igor smiled. “A perceptive one, I see. Yes, that was our first attempt to reach you.”
“So you were the one who made all of those people stop moving?” A cold sweat ran down Ren’s back.
“Not quite.” The girl, Lavenza, stepped forward. “Under normal circumstances, the Velvet Room can only be accessed at the instant the mind slips from reality to dream. This is most easily achieved immediately before one falls asleep, but performing that in the daytime would be...inconvenient.”
“However, it is still possible to access this state without sacrificing your waking hours,” Igor continued. “I believe you call it ‘autopilot’.”
Ren thought back to the day that he first arrived. His mind had been fully occupied when he crossed the street and saw the door. He had barely registered the fact that he was walking across a street at all.
“Let me get this straight. When I crossed the street and went into autopilot, my brain slipped from reality to dream, and in that moment, you tried to get me to enter the Velvet Room?”
Lavenza nodded. “You learn quickly, Trickster.”
Ren sure didn’t feel like he was learning quickly, but he returned the nod.
“Now, onto business.” Igor picked up a sheet of paper from the stack next to him, dipped a quill pen into the inkwell on his desk, and began to write. “Lavenza, if you would do the honours.”
Lavenza bowed. “Yes, Master.” She turned to Ren and her smile faded.
“Throughout its history, the city of Tokyo has experienced countless hardships. The Fires of Edo, the Kanto Earthquake, and the Lost Decade, just to name a few. But, through the power of the communities that comprise this city, it has survived until this day.”
“However...something is coming. A force that has the potential to devastate not only the city, but its spirit as well. And without its spirit, the city will never recover. It would spell the ruin of all who call Tokyo home.”
Up until now, Ren had taken this experience as a strangely vivid stress dream. But this girl’s voice had so much worry and pain within it that Ren started to believe her words.
“So where do I come in?” Ren asked.
“You will play a vital role in averting the coming ruin, Trickster. The actions that you take and the bonds that you forge hold the power to fight back against this threat. The Velvet Room wishes to help you in this endeavour.”
Igor finished writing with a flourish and held out the piece of paper. In a flash, Lavenza was at his side. She attached it to a clipboard that she retrieved from...somewhere, then hurried to Ren’s cell door to hand it to him.
Ren cautiously took the clipboard. There was a dark blue ballpoint pen attached to the top; the Velvet Room really loved its colour scheme. What stood out to Ren the most, however, were the words right at the top of the page.
To whom it may concern,
Contract to bestow the powers of the Vox Populi of Tokyo onto _________
Overseen by Igor of the Velvet Room
“Vox...Populi?” The words felt unfamiliar on Ren’s tongue. “Is that Latin?”
“Yes,” Lavenza answered. “It translates to ‘Voice of the People’, but it is a role that covers much more than just the people.”
“The Vox Populi is a person ordained by the spirits of the city to be its representative. They become the conduit through which the city and its people speak, and in doing so, are granted the powers of the Waking World and the spirits that lie within it. It is present in every major city in the world, from New York to Beijing to Rome; any area with a large civilian population.”
The words on the page swam in front of Ren’s eyes. The spirits of the city? Conduit? The Waking World? And Lavenza had handed him a contract...the pieces clicked.
“You want me to be the Vox Populi?”
“Indeed.” Igor smiled, exposing rows of piano-white teeth.
“This is a heavy responsibility to bear,” Lavenza continued. “As the Vox Populi of Tokyo, you represent the collective will of over 9 million people. The power that you wield has the potential to either heal this city or poison it. Under normal circumstances, this decision would not have been this sudden. However, the ruin that awaits this city is imminent. We cannot delay any longer.”
Ren took a step back. Lavenza’s yellow eyes stared into his own, seeming to pierce straight through him.
“What’s the catch?” Ren asked cautiously. “There’s always a catch with these contracts.”
Lavenza looked away, her head tilting downwards. “Your powers as Vox Populi tie your spirit directly to the city of Tokyo. The further you go from the city, the weaker you will become. If you stray too far…”
Ren grimaced. He didn’t need Lavenza to finish to understand where she was going. If he signed the contract, he could never go home again.
He loved his hometown. The years that he spent there were the best in his life, and he’d always treasure the people that he met there. But...when the news of his arrest spread, it was like all of the goodwill that he built up vanished overnight. People stopped talking to him; his classmates avoided sitting next to him; even his own family had signed the papers to send him away as soon as they could. Every night these past few days, he dreamed about returning home, seeing the familiar streets again, and slowly rebuilding his life.
But that’s all that it was. A dream. One that couldn’t ever come true.
Ren’s fingers closed around the pen. With shaking hands, he signed the contract.
To whom it may concern,
Contract to bestow the powers of the Vox Populi of Tokyo onto Ren Amamiya
Overseen by Igor of the Velvet Room
He handed the clipboard to Lavenza before he could change his mind. She smiled warmly and accepted it. When she handed the contract to Igor, he smiled as well.
“Ren Amamiya. By the power of the Velvet Room and the city of the Tokyo Metropolis, I bestow upon you the mantle of Vox Populi. May you serve this city well.”
Ren closed his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them again. Nothing happened.
“That’s it? I don’t feel any different. I expected glowing.”
Lavenza stifled a giggle. Igor shot her a disapproving look.
“Your powers will awaken soon, Amamiya-san. Until then, rest easy. You will need your strength for tomorrow.”
The way that he said ‘tomorrow’ made it sound like he had told Ren the day of his execution.
“Tomorrow? What about tomorrow?”
Igor simply chuckled in response. At that moment, Ren realized that tomorrow was his first day of school. So, yeah, it was the day of his execution.
All around him, alarms started to blare. Ren felt his consciousness slipping away; it took everything that he had to sit back down on the bed.
Igor’s words echoed in Ren’s ears. “Sleep well, Vox Populi.”
And everything turned to darkness.