"It's nice to meet you, Rokujūkyū-kun!"
Daily life in Facility #19 in the Shizuoka Prefecture was dull, mundane perhaps. The schedules never changed unless they were accommodating to the declining number of subjects. But those were easy to adjust to when you became used to the comings and goings of this place, ignoring all of the horror happening around.
'We lost number 58!'
'Number 83 is no longer available.'
'Number 15 failed to survive.'
Before, the loss of subjects was fine, they could easily be replaced. But as they went, only a select few managed to survive and not just anybody could be picked. They needed help from another lab.
Facility #11 did not need Hiroshi Yoshida.
Hiroshi Yoshida was exactly what Facility #19 needed.
"Nanajūichi."
Number 69―formerly known as Shuuji Tsushima―was not a dumb child. Rather, he was much more calculative than most. It had been weeks since he'd been through his usual schedule alongside another subject and he only had one conclusion in mind; he was the only one left.
Meeting 71 was not unexpected in the least, he'd seen it coming. But the one thing that surprised him was her attitude, or rather, her friendliness and energy. That didn't mean she didn't know when to act accordingly.
For the weirdest of reasons, she seemed to like his company.
Number 69 wasn't like her at all; he was distant, observant and quiet. The more obedient he was, the easier it was to find what he was looking for. On second thought... in that sense, they were slightly similar.
____
"Rokujūkyū-kun?"
Never had he heard he been called by his number that many times in a row. He found he hardly cared, especially right now while he searched for someone in the small crowd. He could easily ignore his companion even with her distinctive bluish-white hair―which didn't matter much actually, as most people in this facility had bright hair―but more often than not, he found himself turning to know what she wanted to ask.
She asked plenty of questions.
'What do you like?'
'Do you have family? Friends?'
'What are you good at?'
'Do you want me to stop talking?'
'Do you read a lot? You read better than me!'
One question came up often.
"What's your name?"
Rokujūkyū never answered that question and the girl never pushed, instead immediately asking about other things that interested her. She never took it personally, she never shared her name either. Not that he didn't already know what it was.
'Do you have family? Friends?'
He had a brother that was part of the Programming. He'd told her as much, just not his name; his brother could do that himself.
"Are you looking for S-01?"
All he did was nod, going to find the younger boy until―
He noticed a flash of ginger in the corner of his eye and stopped in his tracks. It was gone. For some reason that made him frown, the moment of colour deeply ingrained into his memories, his soul. He didn't know why but the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement, as if he'd found someone to annoy, someone to meet again if he was unfortunate enough to live that long.
Nanajūichi stopped beside him, cocking her head to the side as she looked in the same direction as him, "What did you see?"
The brunette shrugged walking off where he'd been intending to go, "It doesn't matter."
The girl's scarlet eyes flashed in contemplation as she walked beside him. She didn't push but she grinned at his expression.
____
The shrill screams that relentlessly echoed in the halls daily―weirdly comparable to a never-ending lullaby―bothered him most days. Today, they didn't.
He didn't care all that much about them, he hadn't even when he'd first been brought to the 19th Facility five years ago. Right now he barely heard them, contemplating the painting that lay before him; he found it more violent than he'd expect from number 71 but entirely understandable.
On a completely blood-red background, the painting of the test room was in shambles. The floor was strewn with glass shards and blood, the tables turned, and the beds twisted around on themselves. The testers were everywhere, in pieces; some were stuck to the ceiling with tape, others to the walls with nails and a few exiting the room urgently. The weird part was that he could see it all happen as he took in every detail. Like―
The alarms sounded.
His head clouded over and he stumbled, dropping the canvas. He struggled to get towards his bed, and then under it so he could yank out the large floor tile he'd forcefully removed once only to use it as a hiding spot for all the things he'd collected over the years spent in this facility. Rummaging through the sleek white box he'd placed in the hole, his eyes flitted around, his guard lifted. The brunette didn't stop until he found the paper he was looking for.
After carefully putting everything back in place, Rokujūkyū picked up one of his roommate's smaller brushes and took a deep breath. Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing, he was just subconsciously following his instinct.
'Overule the effects of Kumoi-Zakura.'
Immediately after, he dropped the paper as if it had burned him, watching as the writing glowed and disappeared. There was silence, even the alarm had turned off.
Then he heard something snap.
-----------------
"Ah, welcome back, Rokujūkyū," the woman approached him, scrutinizing him with her hooded hazel eyes and frowning as she took in his appearance, "You look awful."
Sighing, she dismissed the operators surrounding him―Hawks having been separated from the group a little while ago―and beamed, "Nevertheless, I can't wait to finally complete the experiment," a second later her disturbing grin dimmed, her eyes darkening slightly, "A shame my brother didn't allow me to do anything unrelated to the First Project.
Dazai mentally pictured ways to kill Mori, internally hating on HFP's dull naming choices all the while.
A similar smile to hers crept up on his own face, "I can't help but feel excited at the mere prospect!"
At least he managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, that would do no good. Dazai cursed Mori again; maybe he should try actually cursing him during the tests.
-----------------
"...interesting. I thought his ability was nullification?"
After spending an undetermined amount of time within his subconscious, those were the first words he heard. The thirteen-year-old didn't try to get up, silently listening in instead. Apparently, even though he was in the same room as Nanajūichi, the painter wasn't awake yet.
"Indeed, the effects of the Book and his ability clashed; the singularity may have ended in number 69 getting knocked unconscious. Disregarding that small inconvenience, that... incident revealed to us that both 69 and 71 were compatible."
A third voice―that of a girl, another teenager―spoke up.
"We'll still have to conduct more tests but I have a feeling they're perfect!" judging from the offended yelp she made, she was elbowed by the second person right after due to her interruption.
The first one chuckled, not seeming bothered. The brunette reigned in his involuntary shiver.
"You're right, both Yoshida and Tsushima-kun are miracles within this project."
"Please refer to them by their numbers, Mori-sensei."
"Aw, no need to be like that, Chisaki-kun. But unfortunately, it seems I'm no longer needed in here so I'll be taking my leave..."
There was a sudden silence and Rokujūkyū felt eyes watching him for a moment. He did not doubt that thatMori could see right through him.
"And Kimiko-chan, why don't you help my dear student out, hmm?"
"Sure!"
Shuuji hated this obvious scheme already.