Work Text:
Okay, fine. So maybe SHIELD's new tech was cool.
The wristwatch Cindy wore whirled as she entered the crime scene. She tapped it to turn the camera on once they passed the police barricades and set it to record. Footage of the scene was always helpful, even if she had photographic memory.
Cindy glanced around the crime scene. Bodies were slumped everywhere, signs of struggle clear with their torn clothes and scratched faces. Blood was splattered on the walls and broken bottles littered the floor. Ironically, the only thing untouched was the poster of a model in a bikini.
Cindy left Derrick talking with his contact in the NYPD and approached one of the bodies. Scattered around the bodies was fur — like, shedded from an animal fur. Cindy noted it down in her notepad, the writing being automatically saved into her computer every five minutes. Now that was one helpful upgrade Lola had set her up with. She bagged a clump of fur, matted with blood, and reached for her phone. Glancing down at it, she typed something quick to Lola and set her watch to transport. She scanned the bagged fur and it disappeared, whisked back to the lab at SHIELD.
Cindy didn't like depending on technology so much, but she had to admit that it made taking evidence a lot easier. She stood, brushing herself off and joined Derrick for his interrogation.
"Who the hell are you guys?" an angry voice cut through their conversation. Cindy turned to see an East Asian woman in a lab coat with a badge marching toward them.
"We were just leaving." Derrick raised his hands up in a surrender position.
"Are you freaking journalists?" she asked, eyes narrowed.
Cindy remembered her cover story. "Yes."
"Cindy!" Derrick groaned.
"From where?"
"Threats and Menaces." The lie came easily, the cover having been drilled into her head over the last two days.
"Ugh," the woman answered, scrunching up her face in disgust.
"We get that a lot." Derrick moved to give the scientist his business card, but she waved him off.
"Just get out, will you?"
Obediently, they walked out. Cindy wondered how she would report this to S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Did you see the fur?" Cindy asked. She stopped recording and slipped her sleeves down to cover her watch.
"Yeah, and the claw marks? What is that?"
"This isn't a normal gang murder," she agreed. No wonder she'd been assigned to this case. "I'm writing the article?"
"Newbies get dibs," Derrick offered.
"Got it." They stepped into the subway and Cindy checked her phone for any updates on her mission.
She was working undercover as a journalist for Threats & Menaces because of a spat of recent gang murders, which were escalating at a faster rate than she'd expected. For all Derrick knew, she was just the new girl hired by Jonah.
A text from Lola caught her attention, letting her know that the fur sample had arrived safely. She'd been as surprised as Lola had been when they ran into each other at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, but was infinitely grateful that the ex-photographer was on the case with her. They made a good team.
Cindy squinted. On her home screen was a new app she had no memory of downloading. That was weird, Cindy never downloaded apps. The app icon was a purple and white triangle and was titled Outreach.
Shrugging to herself, she deleted it and thought nothing more of it.
The labs were probably the worst place to go if you wanted peace and quiet. Unless it was lunch time, which meant a stampede of scientists left the labs in droves. Otherwise, it was constantly noisy with tests being run and conversations about gadgets being held.
Thankfully, Lola had called Cindy over during lunch for this very reason. The labs were like a ghost town and Cindy was pretty sure she saw multiple OSHA violations during the walk to her friend's desk.
"You called?"
"I did." Lola spun in her chair, looking too excited for someone skipping lunch. "You gotta see this."
Cindy pointed at the open laptop — her laptop — on the table and realization finally dawned on her. She started shaking her head. "Oh no—"
"Phase two, baby!" Lola cheered and snatched Cindy's phone from her. "It's about time, I was telling my coworkers the other day about when they would get around to you. You know for the whole Stark Industries sponsoring us news, the upgrades are coming in very slow."
"I thought you were going to give me news on the gang murder," Cindy complained and handed over her watch. "Phase one was already hard enough."
Phase one of the upgrades had given her a new watch and a notepad. Simple things that didn't take too long getting used to, like receiving messages and recording things. Cindy already knew that phase two would be overkill.
"Come on, Analog. All the tests pulled up was that it was some type of cat fur, I texted you, remember." Lola rolled her eyes and opened up some sort of software. Lines of code appeared and she skimmed through them all. Then, she frowned. "Huh. That's weird."
Cindy crowded in behind her to look at the monitor. Meaningless text greeted her, which reminded her — she couldn't read code. "What's up?"
"This code shouldn't be in here." Lola gestured to something titled Outreach. "I can't tell what it does — or who added it."
A flash of recognition went through Cindy. "Uh, there was a weird app on my phone yesterday. It was called Outreach too."
"Did you go in?"
"No, I just deleted it."
Lola looked annoyed and unlocked Cindy's phone. She started to swipe through the home screen then froze, her finger hovering over a familiar purple and white app. "Are you sure you deleted it?"
Cindy stared at her phone in disbelief. "I definitely did."
"Weird..." Lola ran the app and connected a cord from the computer to the phone. She opened up another window of code. But, strangely, instead of the green text Cindy had seen from the other window, it was purple.
// looks like you found me
// too bad I don't give up easily
// you can't keep me out :)
"What?" Lola murmured as she scrolled through lines and lines of code. She ran her hands through her pink hair. "That shouldn't be possible. Looks like a hacker."
"I thought Stark Industries had airtight security."
"I don't know but I'm gonna have to keep your stuff for a while and patch up any holes. That okay?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks." Upgrade forgotten, Lola turned her full attention to her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. Cindy watched for a while before turning to leave. Whenever Lola got like this, she wouldn't stop for a while.
Before she took a step, Cindy turned back and grabbed Lola's phone. The pink haired woman didn't even notice as Cindy sent a quick text to Rafferty to alert her of a potential late work night.
"Hey Lola?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to eat lunch?" Cindy set down Lola's phone on the table.
Lola tore her eyes away from the screen and pointed at her backpack leaning against one of the filing cabinets. "Rafferty packed today."
"Got it. Email me?"
"God, only you would use email." Lola groaned and waved. "But seeing as you are currently electronic-less, I will. I'll even CC Albert just in case you don't get it."
"You're the best, Lo."
A dramatic sigh. "I know."
Then she left, starving to get some lunch. Derrick had promised to pay today and Cindy wasn't about to pass up on that.
Cindy knew how computers worked. At least, she thought she did. She could use them well enough, and even figured out how to download her messages app onto it. Okay, maybe Lola helped with that, but — hey — technicalities. The point was she could use a computer well enough.
Still, this seemed rather unnecessary.
"Are you sure about this?" Cindy dangled the earpiece in front of her. "Because I'm not."
"Well, I'm connecting it to your phone and laptop right now." Lola's head popped up from beneath her desk. Her roots were showing in her dyed hair, something she usually kept flawless, and Cindy wondered if the stress of all the upgrade cycles was getting to her. Lola looked pointedly at the earpiece. "Put that down."
Pouting, Cindy watched as Lola hoisted herself onto her chair and clicked onto her own monitor. They were back in the labs after the Outreach fiasco and Lola was determined to finish up the final upgrades today.
Cindy eyed the black box engraved with the Stark Industries logo Lola pulled out suspiciously as she connected it to a USB port. Her phone and laptop glitched, turning matching blue loading screens.
"Relax," Lola said, sliding her chair to bump Cindy on the hip. "Your bare bones grandma phone will stay the same."
The monitor dinged and Lola unplugged the USB cable from the box. She handed it off haphazardly with one hand, making Cindy stoop down to catch it. It was constructed like a shoe box and about as heavy as one too.
"Well," Lola prompted. "Open it."
Cindy did, albeit reluctantly. A pair of gloves were nestled inside surrounded by tissue paper. They were black, except for the first two fingers — those were red. A different material padded the palms and fingertips, offering grip and protection.
"What do you think?" Lola asked smugly. "Pretty neat, right?"
"They're gloves."
"Cute gloves."
Cindy shook her head impatiently, not really getting what Lola was talking about. "I mean— yeah, but I make my own gloves."
"Just try them on," Lola rolled her eyes. "Do you really think the bad boys of Stark Industries make regular gloves?"
Reluctantly, Cindy did as told. As soon as she finished, white lines lit up and a screen on the back of her right hand flickered to life. Cindy hadn't even noticed the screen embedded in the gloves.
"This is gonna replace the watch," Lola informed her. She reached over to show Cindy a switch on the underside of her wrist. When she flicked it, the gloves folded in on themselves into two black cuffs, one on each wrist. A mini screen was on the right, looking like a skinny Fitbit, while the other had a silver, jagged S printed on it.
Okay, yeah, that was pretty sweet.
"No camera, but you can access apps on it like an Apple Watch and it should enhance your webs. Spider-Man might be able to explain in more detail, but it's super intuitive and has some really cool functions." Lola tapped onto the screen and it shot up a hologram of the interface. "It's StarkTech's latest holographic technology. No big screens since we wanted it to be as compact as possible."
Cindy switched the band back into gloves, marveling at how the material expanded and climbed over her hands, leaving no space behind. The white lines took the place of seams and they dimmed after a few seconds.
"Told you so." Lola's grin turned smug. "How's technology for you, Analog?"
"It is cool," Cindy admitted. "Still, I've been fine without it so far, I don't think it's necessary." Seeing smoke billowing from her friend's ears, she quickly added, "But I'm willing to give it a shot?"
The app was back, now on her gloves and laptop. Cindy didn't bother calling Lola this time, not wanting her to work for thirty hours to patch up whatever hole was in the firewall just for it to happen again.
She was on patrol when she noticed it, perched on a roof and playing around with the finished upgrades Lola had installed after deleting whatever alien code had pervaded Cindy's electronics. Her laptop was in front of her in the shade and she kept activating and deactivating her gloves. Seriously, whatever they were paying Lola, it wasn't enough.
Still, the app was back and it had made its way to the gloves. The icon was the same, but the name had changed to Contact. Cindy pressed on it before pulling her mask up further to hide her face. Luckily, her gloves and laptop were company issued so her personal information was barely on them.
It opened up to something akin to a chat room, complete with an input line and send button. Cindy moved her wrist closer to study the rudimentary UI. It didn't look like an app made by Stark Industries, else the logo would've been plastered everywhere. Instead it reminded her of the outdated forums that used to be popular in high school. As she poked around, text flashed.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ is typing...
To her surprise, a message appeared, taking up space on the screen as the previous text disappeared.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : hiya cutie
Cindy stared at the screen for a few moments, confused. Then, like lightning, she jerked away from her wrist and started pulling off the glove.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : theres no camera on ur glove luvly
Cindy's head wrenched upwards to the laptop in front of her and zeroed in on the little black camera embedded in the frame. She flicked her fingers, shooting out a strand of silk and covered the camera up with a satisfying thwip. When she looked back down, there was a new message waiting for her. She pulled her glove back on.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : awwwww there was no need for that
Cindy summoned the holoboard and typed back.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Who are you?
Her icon was a spider. And her text was red, the same red as her mask. Of course it was.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : not happy to see me? I'm hurt :(
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : I don't know who you are
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : that's fair
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : nice to meet u silk
A pause. Cindy waited expectantly for a follow up, a name, anything.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i just realized.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i cant tell u my name
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : srry<3
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Why not?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : nothing personal, i swear
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : just business
That did nothing to make Cindy feel better.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Get out of my tech
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : no thx
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : u see o/ there's a cute girl who owns these sweet pair of gloves..
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : but srsly, im not gonna leave
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Why not?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : cant tell u
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Who do you work for?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im shhhh abt that too
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : srry spider-chick
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Don't call me that.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : no need to use a period spider-chick. chill.
Fine. If this— whoever they were was going to be difficult, Cindy was about to smash her gloves into pieces. They hacked into StarkTech twice, maybe even three times now. Whoever they were, they were dangerous.
Cindy groaned into her hands, but she couldn't break her gloves — they were company issued. Nor could she ruin her laptop. How was she supposed to get anything done if this— this person could see everything?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : hey now don't be upset
Lifting her head, she saw that her web had left one tiny spot of the camera peeking through. The hacker could see her. She glared.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Don't you have better things to do?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : not at the moment no
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Who are you and how are you doing this
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i guess you can call me gwishin
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Did you seriously just search up what ghost meant in Korean
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Or are you Korean
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im actually japanese<3
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : and yes yes i did
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Okay fine. Whatever. Answer the second question please
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : what can i say im a tech genius xx thats literally all u need to kno rn
Ghost's — Cindy refused to call this person gwishin — texting style was worse than a college student like Albert's.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : That literally tells me nothing
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : anyways heres the deal :)
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im not leaving. i have a job, just like you, and this is it.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : that doesn't mean we can't have fun tho ;)
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : I'm not having fun
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : shh we're having a moment here
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : n e ways BUT!!!
A minute passed as Cindy waited patiently for an answer that never came.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ur supposed to ask "but what :ooooo"
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : No
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ughh killjoy
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : You're kind of dramatic
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : says u
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : scracth that that was bad
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : as i was saying..
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Whatever
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : TT
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : AS I WAS SAYING no one needs to get hurt by this... arrangement
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : I find that hard to believe
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : its the truth <3
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i just need enough info to keep em happy. like how close yall are to the investigation
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : The gang murders?
Ghost ignored her question.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : just enough to keep me fed and satisfied
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : bam this is foolproof plan
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : It's really not
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : hehe ur funny
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : anyways what do u think?
Cindy considered the offer. It still largely benefitted the ghost over her and she was still betraying her entire organization if she let this hacker just hang out and watch them. On the other hand, what choice did she have? If Ghost could see through her things, they could probably look through every single computer S.H.I.E.L.D had.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : okok so i see u r not convinced
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : so let me hit u one more tiem w a better offer
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ill give u some info abt what ur after
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : nobody has to get hurt bestie
She refrained from pointing out that people were already getting hurt — even killed. And did Ghost even have information on the specific case she was on? Or was it just a bluff to get Cindy to spill information. Still, if she could save a few more lives…
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Fine.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : But you can only look through MY things. Nothing else.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : And if you hurt my friends, it's over.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : thats all i need baby
She barely noticed the ghost past the fact that she always wore her mask whenever she used her laptop now. Past the app icon that stayed on her home interface no matter what, the day or two after their first conversation was quiet. Whatever Ghost was doing, it hadn't interfered with the gloves' functions and that was all that mattered to Cindy.
However, the ghost became friendlier. Expounding on that: the ghost was a flirt — like, a major flirt - and Cindy didn't know how to respond. Notifications from Ghost became frequent whenever Cindy was typing away the latest news about the gang murders and Cindy tried her best not to engage.
Was the ghost lonely, was that it? Cindy wondered before quickly discarding the thought. Ghost was probably just doing their job and stalking their progress on the gang murders — Cindy was sure that's what they were after.
Still, Cindy knew all about being lonely.
She finished typing up the last of her article and sent it to the editors — being undercover as a journalist felt more like a job than her actual job. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and stretched. It was almost time to go.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : finally done?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Uh, yeah kinda. I need to review the editor's notes from another article and make changes.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : icy
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : but i meant what are you doing today? like for fun
She went to respond but her fingers froze at the last second. Why did the ghost want to know?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : You don't need to know that
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ur right
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i dont
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : but i want to
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : its called making conversation
Cindy rolled her eyes.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Bored much?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : maybe
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : or maybe im just wondering what a cute girl like u does with her friday nights
Heat shot through her cheeks and Cindy reflexively ducked her head. Compliments weren't rare when she was a superhero, there were a few articles listing her in one of those "Top Ten Asian-American Superheroes" lists.
(Rafferty — an actual journalist — had written one as a joke, which promptly went viral and got a bunch of those pink infographics made and posted on, like, Instagram or something. Cindy only knew about them because of Lola and Albert.)
But being complimented privately in a one to one conversation? Cindy hadn't had much experience in that particular area. Her only flirting was in high school, unless talking to the wall in her bunker counted.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : oooooh is this embarrassment i see?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : dont be xx
Cindy scanned the office, even though she knew it was empty. Nobody else was here to see her flustered. She toyed with the idea of covering her laptop camera again before deciding against it.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : More and more I'm convinced you're some creepy old man hiding in, like, the rafters of a church
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : lol
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im not
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Sure
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Just what I need: a perv watching my every move
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im a woman thank you very much, a young one too ;>
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : a perv tho? thats to be decided
Cindy blinked. A woman. Ghost was a woman flirting with her. Up till now Cindy hadn't really given much thought to what kind of person Ghost was past who she worked for.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Again, just what I need: a perv spying on me
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ok miss im so fancy i use a colon correctly
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : at least im a cute perv
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : and smart
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : very sexy
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Technically I don't know that either.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : So it's whatever, you're still some perv
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : u nvr answered my question
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : got a hot date tonight?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : if so, im jelous
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : of them<3
Not knowing how to respond beyond her cheeks flaming again, Cindy ignored that part. She consoled herself with the fact that her cheeks were covered by a mask.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : I'm actually gonna watch a drama with my brother tonight
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : If you have to know
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : a brother?!
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : wow im learning sm abt u today
Cindy cursed and didn't reply. She really had to stop with slip ups like these.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : what r u watching?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Yumi's Cells
Her phone lit up and Cindy turned away to check. It was an alert from Rafferty: Heard about the gang murders, are you okay?
She typed back, I'm fine, and swiveled back to her laptop. That was enough work for today, no matter how many revisions she'd have to catch up on tomorrow. Risking a glance at Jonah’s lit office, she deconstructed her mask and started to pack up her things. The boss was adamant about being the last one out, always, but as the elevator doors started closing, he rushed out to join her.
As she accompanied Jonah out, two shadowy figures stepped out of the alley and made their way to the subway entrance Jonah went in. Way to be conspicuous. Cindy flicked the glove switch on and dashed into a dark corner to change.
Stupid stupid stupid. Cindy must've pressed publish instead of save on the T&M website. A rookie mistake, really.
She was so tired of making rookie mistakes.
Back home, Cindy grabbed a pair of tweezers and unearthed the ear implant. Wiping the blood off, she saw the smallest logo engraved into it: Fujinet.
Typical corporation behavior, wanting to brand everything they owned, even the weird earpieces that embedded themselves into people's brains. But Fujinet? They were a tech company, but nowhere near the scope of Apple. A company like them wouldn't have the motive, or resources, to build something like this.
She pulled out her laptop and webbed the camera before she turned it on. Ghost usually wasn't active around this time, but it didn't hurt to be careful.
Searching up Fujinet, she scanned through the company website. They seemed normal enough, having recently switched CEOs. A family business; how quaint.
Her mouse hovered over the heiress, Saya Ishii. Jet black hair contrasted against a stripe of white, her bob cut angled sharply against a knife-like jaw and cheekbones. Not many CEOs were as good looking. If this was who Ghost was working for, Cindy was curious to find the connection.
"Dinner's ready, fool!" Albert called, and Cindy startled. She had totally forgotten that they were planning to start the first episode of Yumi's Cells tonight during dinner.
She closed her laptop. Whatever the connection between Fujinet and the gang murders were, Cindy would find out tomorrow.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : ur killin me here smalls
Cindy ignored the familiar ping as she followed Derrick from above. Her hand adjusted her earpiece mid swing to another building.
Another ping.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : stop ignoring me
The message flashed in the corner of her eye, the holoscreen maintaining its clarity even as Cindy jumped around. "Not a good time," she muttered, more to herself than anything.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : its always a good time when it comes to me
That text made Cindy stop in her tracks. She shot an anxious glance down at Derrick, who was struggling to get through a thick crowd and stared down at her holoscreen. "You can hear me?"
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : thx to u wearing the earpiece xx
"Why the fuck," Cindy muttered. "This is so not cool."
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im the definituon of cool
"I hate technology."
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : jt so wonderful
Cindy resumed her chase, ignoring Ghost in favor of following Derrick, who had made his way out of the crowd and was crossing the road.
He turned into an arcade and Cindy followed him inside. To be honest, arcades hadn’t changed much during her time in the bunker, except maybe having gotten more loud. This one, though, was silent as she crept through the dimly lit rows of games. A crash ruined the eerie stillness and a chorus of groans made Cindy jump a few feet in the air. Her first instinct was to run towards it, but she had to take care of Derrick first.
She skidded to a halt at the sight that greeted her after securing Derrick. Was that a demon cat? Lady Life really wasn't being kind right now. Cindy eyed the monster, sizing them up before jumping into the fray. This was gonna be brutal.
She crashed into one of the arcade games, momentarily stunned. Music blared from her earpiece, shocking her out of her stupor just in time to dodge a nasty swipe. "Wh—?"
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : i just saved ur life thats what
Cindy barely had time to read the message before she was rolling again, twisting and spinning out her web so that she could swing into the demon.
Clawed hands grabbed her in a death grip, holding her up high. Her ribs cracked under the pressure. Their voice was a mix of a screech and a yowl. "I warned you to mind your own business."
"... you did. That's fair." Cindy huffed out. At least one rib was broken.
"You should have listened."
The gang members hit the cat with a chair and Cindy fell out and jumped right back in. Make that three ribs.
She laid on the cool floor for a moment after the fight, allowing herself a couple seconds before she got Derrick out. Turning over to her gloves, the clock read that it wasn't even four o'clock. A huge groan escaped her. Today was going to be a long day.
Funnily enough, Ghost didn't text her for the rest of the day — likely busy with whatever demon cat was doing. Whoever she was working for, they were bad news. And Cindy had a feeling it had something to do with Saya Ishii.
Frustration washed over her. Pushing her chair back, she rolled her neck and shoulders before running her hands through her hair. She stared blankly at the T&M website. It was the first time she truly felt stuck on this case, the events of -- well, everything, piling up into an insurmountable mountain.
She pulled her mask down and rubbed her eyes, scrolling through the website one last time. Her article was at the bottom and the bolded headline seeped into the inside of her eyelids. Yawning, she turned away from the glowing laptop; it was time to sleep.
Cindy didn't see the appearance of text in the Contact app:
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ is typing...
before it disappeared.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Do you have a connection to Saya Ishii.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : you mean, the coolest person alive?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Okay, thanks.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : what did i sya? ;3c
It was the spa situation that made her actually go through with meeting the CEO. The gang stationed at the Korean Spa had trusted her, and she'd let them down. Hot, angry tears fell down her face.
She was on the roof to Jonah's apartment, collecting herself before going to check on him. Taking deep breaths, the night air was cold against her wet cheeks.
A ping.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : u okay girlboss?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : No.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : y
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Tell your boss to stop hurting innocent people
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : we arent hurting anyone
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : at least, no one who doesn't deserve it
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : Yeah. Right.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : jst doing my job
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : so tell me
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : seeing anyone lately?
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : No
Her ghost went silent.
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : good
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : cool
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : im glad
What did that mean? Cindy furrowed her brows, guilt temporarily placed to the side from the absurdity of Ghost's texts.
/\( •̀ ▽ •́ )/\ : What?
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : nothing
( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ : just that the alphabet should put u&i together >.>
Radio silence. Cindy sighed and stood up. There was no putting off seeing Jonah now.
Cindy stared up at the Plaza. There was no way it was going to be that easy. Her hidden gloves were cool against her wrists and she resisted the urge to twist them around.
"So glad you could make it, Cindy. Mimosa?" Saya Ishii offered a glass.
"Uh, no thanks."
"It's rude to leave a girl to drink alone."
"Since when?" Cindy took a seat. "Why are you talking like it's nineteen-sixty?" Great start to an interview, Cindy, really great.
"Looks like nineteen-sixty with that notebook. Where's your phone?"
All this chatter was reminding her of a certain hacker. “It’s on the fritz, turns out it’s haunted.”
“You aren’t afraid of ghosts, are you?” Saya Ishii arched her brow as she swirled her mimosa and sunk back into her velvet cushions. One leg crossed over the other.
“Afraid not.”
“I’m glad, you know us Asians are a superstitious bunch. We can’t have… certain spirits around.”
Cindy took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. Something about the way the CEO was looking at her was setting off alarm bells. "You can play kooky heiress all you want — but the people using your tech are dangerous.” Struggling to keep her hand steady, Cindy brandished the photo of a dead gang member she failed to protect, his body mauled. “This is what they're doing." Saya Ishii's eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a split second she was fuming. Cindy could feel the energy in the air crackle at the ferocity. Her silk sense was through the roof, don’t lower your guard. She pressed on, "care to comment, Miss Ishii?"
Saya Ishii smirked and leaned forward, regaining control in the next moment. "Can I comment on that sweater? Is it acrylic?” She tutted in sympathy. “You deserve better.”
Cindy’s stomach dropped at the pleased — almost pleasant — tone, finally realizing how deep in trouble she was.
“Maybe something in silk."
