Disclaimer: They're Kazuki Takahashi's toys. I'm just playing with them.
A/N: I had to jump through rings of fire to get this to you tonight. Rings that included, but were not limited to, Writer's Block like you can't imagine, angry parents, toothbrushes, and Yahoo!. (In case you don't know,Yahoo! is a ring of fire in and of itself. If you're looking for a new e-mail account, don't chose Yahoo!. I here g-mail's very good.)
A special thanks for this chapter goes out to Generic Hero. Actually, forget "special thanks" – you get more thank just fifty-six percent, mate. I'd still have all of six sentences written without your help. Folks, not only did he help me with character interaction, but when my serious lack of science fiction gadget knowledge started to hurt me, he helped me think of what to do, and then he betaed it to make sure I got it right. You may all commence sacrificing plot bunnies in his honor.
"I don't understand, big brother. The capital? I thought we had control of the capital!"
"Not our capital. Theirs."
"The government's?"
"Yes. Tokyo, not Kyoto."
Mokuba struggled to keep pace with his brother's long, ground-eating strides as he absorbed this. Revolutionary training didn't include much history or politics; only those related to the Revolution. It had never occurred to him that there might be two capitals, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. You couldn't exactly have the government and their seditious enemies working next door to each other.
"And that's why this is so dangerous?"
Seto nodded curtly, neither turning around to look at the boy nor slowing his pace. "Security going to be tighter than anything we've ever faced. We'll be lucky to make it out of this alive."
Mokuba paled. He opened his mouth to inquire further and walked right into his brother, who had halted abruptly a pace in front of him. The collision made Mokuba lose his balance; he wobbled and almost fell. Seto's hand automatically shot out and steadied the younger boy as he looked around them.
Seto had led the way to the Supplies Department. Mokuba mentally kicked himself for not figuring that out earlier; only a fool went on even the most run of the mill assignment without stocking up, and this...
While he had been orienting himself, Seto had entered a keycode into the door in front of them. It swung open with a soft whoosh and a chime that announced their presence.
A friendly voice chirped a greeting as they stepped inside. "Back again, you guys? They're working you pretty hard, aren't they?"
Mokuba returned the girl's smile. "Yeah, well, you know. There's a war going on, after all."
The girl shook her head. Her number, if the agent recalled correctly, was S6227, but everyone called her "Red" after her flaming auburn hair. Three years older than he, she was the assistant manager of this department. She was also J5030's younger sister. Remembering Seto's earlier retort to the hot headed blond, Mokuba felt understanding dawn.
Red was speaking again. "Tell that to my shippers. There's so many embargos and labor shortages going on right now that it's getting harder and harder to keep stocked." She grinned. "There's a war going on, after all."
Mokuba laughed, glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye. Seto hadn't even cracked a grin at the banter, his face as stoic as it had been before, but that wasn't unusual. He rarely smiled even when they were alone.
"So, guys, what's the mission this time?" Red asked excitedly, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
"That's classified, Red." Seto spoke for the first time, his tone patronizingly brusque. "You know better."
Mokuba, forever amused that even his stringent brother used the girl's nickname, joked, "Yeah, we could tell you, but then we'd have to kill you."
Red grinned, but Seto didn't look pleased. "Don't joke about things like that."
The young boy's eyes widened. "Sorry."
"That's all right, M; I know what you meant." Her manner turned business-like. "What can I get for you?"
She and Seto began haggling for equipment: a replacement for Mokuba's grappling hook, which they had been forced to leave behind on their last mission; an extra one hundred meters worth of rope; more explosives... The list went on, and Mokuba let his attention drift. Their voices faded into a vague murmur as he wandered away, looking at the various goods and equipment on display. Most had to do with the war: weapons, explosives, armor, and other devices to help agents stay alive. More dangerous items were stored on the lower floors.
A section near the back, however, contained household items that were hard to attain anywhere else, such as the maple syrup Seto had gotten on Mokuba's birthday. The boy was always filled with longing whenever he was here. He knew that there was once a time, long ago, when there had been enough for everyone to indulge in luxuries. He wondered what that felt like. He and his brother were fairly well off; they had their own apartment, for one, and such a renowned agent as S4913 had a decent enough salary. Still, even when they had money to spend, there was rarely anything to buy.
As he neared his favorite aisle in the section, Mokuba reached inside his pocket, his fingers brushing a battered leather pouch. Three gold coins, each engraved with a large KC, were enclosed inside. Mokuba had been saving since his first paycheck to have this much, and he knew exactly what he wanted to buy with them.
There it was. With a big smile on his face, the young boy stretched an eager hand up to an almost empty shelf and pulled down a small bar of chocolate.
He gazed at his prize happily. Red had given him a piece of chocolate, free of charge, the first time he had met her, and he had been determined to get his hands on more ever since. His mouth watered as he recalled how the sweet candy had dissolved in his mouth, and with a spring in his step he returned to where Red and Seto were haggling.
He had taken a roundabout route through the warehouse the first time, allowing himself to fantasize about the contents of the shelves, but he now cut through a different part of the store, taking the most direct path back in his impatience to make his purchase.
That was how he saw it.
It was on display in a glass case that was taller than he was. Made of what looked like black leather, the suit of what could only be armor sparked his curiosity. He approached it, pressing his nose to the glass and allowing his eyes to feast on what was probably the most expensive thing in the department, if not the entire rebellion.
Closer inspection revealed that the material was not, in fact, leather, nor was it even truly black. It seemed impossible to try to define it, however; his eyes refused to focus on it, and he became dizzy when he even tried.
Stepping back once more, he tilted his head back and forth, taking in the entire picture. Gloves, slightly bulky looking boots, even a helmet, all made of the same ethereal fabric... Whatever this was, it wasn't like anything he'd ever seen or even heard of before. A flutter of excitement in his stomach told him that whatever agent was lucky enough to wear this armor would be fully protected.
Mokuba shivered as his brother's earlier words came back to haunt him. We'll be lucky to make it out of this alive... Oh, what he wouldn't give to have better protection on such a dangerous mission!
Wait a minute... Now that was an idea.
"Big brother!" he called, feeling more excited with each passing second. "Big brother, come quick! You gotta see this!"
Seto appeared thirty seconds later, melting out of the shadows in a way that Mokuba had never quite been able to reproduce. "What's the matter?" he asked, hand hovering over the blaster that the guards had reluctantly returned to him after leaving the command center. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Mokuba answered sheepishly. He should have known better than to yell like that. Pointing at the suit, he squeaked, "Look!"
Red came up behind them as Seto studied the suit. "Like it?" she asked, a hint of pride in her tone. "It came in with the last shipment."
"What is it?" Seto inquired, sounding interested in spite of himself.
"Other than really cool?" Mokuba added, his eyes still fixed on the armor.
"It's a prototype," Red explained, coming forward to stand beside the case. She placed an arm on it, looking like a game show hostess showing off the grand prize. "They'd like to make it standard edition; it'll save a lot of agent's lives if they do. Unfortunately, that's going to take more funding than we're ever going to have, so–"
"What kind of material is this?" Seto interrupted. "It looks almost like leather, but..." he trailed off, blinking. Apparently, Mokuba hadn't been imagining the nauseating effect.
"It's not. It's a new type of material; Engineering just came out with it."
"Engineering develops types of fabric?" Mokuba blinked in confusion.
"Ridiculous," Seto said, shaking his head. "Engineering would only be involved if it were something important. Some kind of armor, probably."
Mokuba opened his mouth in indignation – he knew it was armor! – but Red interrupted him by chirping, "Stronger than Kevlar. More flexible, too."
Seto nodded. "Impressive. What else does it do?"
"See for yourself." She pulled out a pamphlet from her white lab coat and handed it to him.
Fidgeting, Mokuba alternated between further captivation with the suit and studying his brother's face as the older agent skimmed the information. Seeing his eyebrows rise, a sure sign that he was impressed, the boy's own interest leapt even higher.
Seto finally finished his investigation and handed the pamphlet back to Red. "Not bad," he admitted, and the girl beamed. "How many do you have?"
Mokuba froze. Was Seto thinking what he thought he was thinking?
"Three," was Red's answer.
"What sizes?"
"One size fits all."
"Excellent. We'll take two."
Yes!
But Red was shaking her head.
"What's wrong?" Seto asked sharply.
"You don't have enough. Money, that is."
Mokuba's heart plummeted as Seto frowned. "Then... why did you show it to us?"
"Well I... I mean, you asked, and..." She was beginning to sound upset.
"...Very well. M7123, come. We're leaving."
Mokuba's fists clenched in disappointment, and it was only then that he remembered the now mushy chocolate bar. "Wait!" he shouted after his disappearing brother.
Seto stopped and looked back at him. "Yes?"
Turning to Red, Mokuba pulled the pouch from his pocket. Freeing his savings, he held them out to her. "If... if I put this back," he waved the chocolate, "and give you this, then will we have enough?"
Red gazed at the child so naïvely making his meager offering and felt a great swell of pity. "Oh... No, Mokuba, you keep the chocolate, okay? On me."
The boy frowned. "No, I want to pay for it myself."
"Then here." Understanding his determination, Red accepted his money and pressed the chocolate back towards him. Pocketing the coins, she faced Seto.
"Look, S4913... I might be able to arrange for you to get it at a discount..." She trailed off at the look on his face.
"We don't need charity, Red," the agent snapped. "Not from you, not from anyone. M7123, come. We're leaving."
"No, S4913, wait!" Red lunged forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Seto glared at her; with a shudder, she released him.
"It's a prototype," she mumbled, eyes on the floor. "It hasn't been tested in the field yet, just in simulations. They'll be pleased to have someone like you test it out. Let me see what I can do." Meeting his eyes, she added, "Please."
Seto looked from her, to his brother, to the suit, and back to Mokuba, two almost primal instincts waging war inside him. On the one, his pride refused to let him accept her help; on the other was the one rule he'd made his priority ever since their parents had been killed:
Protect Mokuba. This new armor would decrease his brother's risk of injury by, according to the pamphlet, fifty-nine percent.
Besides... he was quite eager to try it out for himself.
His decision reached, he hesitated only a moment more before answering her plea. "...We leave at dawn tomorrow. Let us know by then."
Red nodded. "I will."
As they left the Supplies Department, they heard her call after them, "And guys...? Good luck!"
Mokuba swallowed a piece of chocolate that had suddenly turned to ash in his mouth. He carefully wrapped and pocketed the rest to save for later, whispering softly back to he. "Thanks..."
He had the terrible feeling that they were going to need it.
A/N: Today's my birthday. It's in the handbook that you have to review people on their birthdays, see? (holds out hands)