N.A.N.O.

(Arc I)

"You know, I've always enjoyed watching people go by near the train tracks. At times, they become discoloured, a black and white blur, coming and going, and passing me by, it makes it seem as if I'm watching everything from the shadows, and watching for too long a time. It's rather hard to know whether I'm dead or alive. It makes me forget who I am, and makes me remember why I'm here."

-:-:-:-:-

Eastern District of Finiche,

City of Baele, Seienia,

55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)

Hello, Hanabi. Forgive me for not having written to you for these past five months, but the scientologists have been particularly persistent in their pursuits, as I'm sure you're aware, so I haven't had much time to myself. I know you're worried, and I don't blame you for insisting that I disclose my exact location to you, but you'll have to understand; I can't risk anyone knowing at the moment. Please don't misunderstand, sister, I trust you completely. But if anyone were to start suspecting in the slightest through these letters, everything could go wrong. I can hardly risk penning down my name in these letters, let alone my location. Presently, I have to remain in hiding. I know you'll be angry with my refusal, but just know that wherever I am, I love you. Please take care of yourself. I miss you dearly.

With love,

Your sister.

-:-:-:-:-

The faint ring of the cafe's doors alerted the employees to the presence of yet another customer. The middle-aged man behind the counter briefly glanced up, before dismissively lowering his eyes to the coffee machine again, paying no heed to the new arrival. After all, with the cafe's booming business and flourishing popularity, he had been hearing the same ring after every ten minutes since seven in the morning.

The dainty cafe emitted a rather homely feeling, the new customer observed with casual, honey-brown orbs. A soft, cream wallpaper easy on the eyes, round tables with four chairs around each, and the welcoming scent of fresh pastries, croissants, and coffee greeting the customer's senses.

Her gentle, brown irises cautiously gazed at the faces of the customers and the working employees. Making sure to check all the shadowed corners and concealed doors of the cafe, she deemed it safe to walk forward and seat herself in an inconspicuous corner. She sighed and massaged her temples, sick and frustrated and just plain tired of the continuous game of hide-and-seek she'd been playing unwllingly for the past two years.

Quietly giving her order, Hinata Hyuuga lifted the menu in front of her face, so as to conceal her contemplative look from any prying eyes that might happen to take unwanted interest in her.

Fifty-five years it had been, she mused, since the the monarchial system had been completely demolished. The system of kings and queens and nobility and aristocracy had long since been destroyed brutally. The wars had been bloody, she'd heard as a child, and all nations had been forced to choose a side; even those which were governed by a democratic system.

Mindless violence, she thought bitterly, which resulted in nothing except more bloodshed and the death of innocents. War, war, war. It never quite ended, did it? She gazed out the window with pained, accusing eyes, and recalled the incident which had forced her (and hundreds of unfortunate others) into the role of a near-refugee.

'Democracy?' she thought. 'No. Democracy, this is not. Most definitely not.' Not when civil wars were breaking out between the liberals and conservatives every three months. The world was war-torn, and the so-called scientific advances that the scientologists spoke of did nothing to ease the tension encompassing the whole country of Seienia. If anything, they worsened conditions. Hinata's lips tightened and her fists clenched into the white table-cloth, as she thought of the disgusting measures that the scientologists had referred to as advancements.

Biting into her croissant, she back-tracked to the events of 25 D.M.S— or rather, the year 2470, as most people referred to it thirty years ago. It was when the system of 'Evolution' had begun. Certain growth-controlling NanoMachines were inserted into infants who were born into the new generation. The aforementioned Machines enabled the bearer to control his/her way of growth and physical development, enabled them to fish out inconvenient defects. It allowed a certain 'perfection' in the new generation; no one would be unusually short, nor unusually tall, neither unusually fat, nor unusually thin. No child in the future would have a gap between his teeth, no child would have a strange-looking nose, and no child would have too pointy a chin.

Perfection, Hinata thought, sickened. Evolution.

Times were difficult. The piering sounds of gunshots had faded into the background as common occurences. People didn't dare venture forth outside of their houses after dark, in fear of getting caught up in yet another spontaneous civil war. Evolution did nothing to ease their fear and terror.

Unfortunately, the insertion of such devices was nothing more than mild, compared to another development that had been restricted to the confines of laboratories only: N.A.N.O. development. Children were investigated through various databases, and those found to be genetically strong and tolerant were selected for the infusion of animal DNA. Not more than mere test subjects, their DNA was inseparably fused with that of specific animals. Most of them were taken in for experimentation forcibly, while some of them, like her, were willingly given away by their families.

(For the sake of science, was it? she'd wondered.)

Experimentation had been strictly confidential, and was spoken of only inside the safety of NANO-gene Induction facilities. It had been practised in secret from the public, at least until two years ago. In 2501, an unnamed accident had caused 460 incomplete NANOs (the name given to the freak children) to escape from an NGI facility. Out of the 460, 400 had lost control and went berserk, triggering a horrifying killing spree. Hinata flinched, recalling the number of civilians murdered in cold blood. They had been caught and apprehended by the scientologists, of course, and probably disposed of, but that didn't mean that the incident was erased from the minds of the public. It was no wonder that the civilians despised NANOs with a passion now, and Hinata couldn't blame them, but she couldn't blame those berserk NANOs either.

The fortunate sixty that were still sane— and very much alive— had enough sense left in them to seek out hiding places for themselves. Even after two years, the scientologists had yet to give up on finding them, and Hinata hoped that the fifty-nine others weren't having as hard a time as she was in avoiding the scientologists.

She had an urge to rub her eyes in frustration, but refrained from doing so; she was wearing contacts, after all. It was one of the many insignificant things that came with the package of being a NANO. NANOs often had odd eye colours, and Hinata figured that the lavender-white colour of her irises would make it far too easy for people to recognize her.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and dug a hand into the pocket of her overcoat. She was running short of money, and if she wanted to survive with two decent meals a day, another round of pick-pocketing was due. Hinata grimaced at the thought; honestly, she hated stealing. It was immoral and dishonest and just plain wrong. However, she could never risk taking a job for longer than a week. After a month of changing jobs left and right, she figured it was useless, and so turned to her last resort.

The midnight-haired Hyuuga (or former Hyuuga, more appropriately) admitted that animal DNA had its own uses every now and then. Physical deformities weren't all that she was given, after all. All NANOs were gifted— or cursed— with characteristics of their animal. She wasn't sure which animal her DNA had been fused with, but she realised that enough concentration would enable her to see certain points (she wasn't really sure what to call them) in a human body. If she applied a little pressure on those points, it could cause temporary paralysis (she had been forced to practice the technique on guards enough times to have mastered it.)

"Hi."

The unfamiliar voice startled Hinata out of her myriad of thoughts. She glanced up from her steaming cup of coffee, and her gaze was met by a slender, smiling woman, perhaps the same age as Hinata herself. Hinata's shoulders tensed unnoticeably in suspicion. She casually surveyed the woman's appearance, while shyly replying, "Uh, hello."

She was a pretty little thing; bubblegum-coloured, shoulder-length hair, jade-green eyes, sparkling like the gems they resembled, unblemished skin, and a pretty smile. Her smile wasn't particularly confident, nor was it particularly shy. It was simply the smile of a strange, with perhaps a touch of demureness.

She gestured to the empty chair across from Hinata, and politely inuired, "May I sit here? The other tables are full."

"Of course," Hinata answered, slightly uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger sitting in such close proximity. Never-the-less, she seemed harmless, and perhaps in need of some company, so Hinata offered her a warm, albeit slightly guarded, smile. She crossed her legs in an attempt to lessen her discomfort, and silently sipped at her coffee, pretending to be oblivious to the pink-haired woman's observing gaze.

"Um," the anonymous woman said, looking at Hinata with a mix of hesitation and a strange self-confidence. "I'm Natsue Kinimoto. It's nice to meet you."

Hinata nodded, pale lips stretching upwards in a soft smile. Extending a hand towards her, she replied, "Kyouko Yamamoto. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

As the green-eyed woman— Natsue, she said her name was— took hold of her hand in a surprisingly strong grip, Hinata ignored the bitterness on her tongue that the fake name had left behind. It had slipped out with practised ease, and it was perhaps the thirtieth name she had used, but not being allowed to tell anyone her real name made her feel as if there was a large, gaping hole in her identity. It wasn't the first time she forced herself to come to terms with the unnerving feeling.

After the half-hearted introductions, Natsue didn't speak a word to her, and Hinata didn't speak a word to Natsue. They were content with biting into their pastries, and even when, at times, Hinata could feel a critical gaze boring into her head intensely, she chose to dismiss her suspicions about the other woman. However, as she was getting ready to push back her chair and stand up, Hinata paused her actions at hearing a gasp escape Natsue's lips.

Wide, jade-coloured eyes were focused on the holographic News Unit across from the bustling street (at least one holographic News Unit was set up in every district of Baele, having replaced the garagantuan T.V. screens that had been used for the same purpose roughly sixty years ago.)

"The NANO-gene Induction facility in the Manaiya district of Baele, Seienia is reported to have been attacked by an unknown entity. This has been the fifth in a queue of similar attacks, all of which have been focused on NGI-facilities in the city of Baele. A total of sixty-two scientologists and two-hundred test subjects have been killed, with a further seventy-three wounded severly. Scientologist Micheal Cassidy, one of the twenty-eight survivors, is reported to have said that the cause of the explosive attack has yet to be determined, and that it could possibly be the result of mishandling an explosive substance. Reporter, Kohji Lee."

"Explosive substance?" Hinata heard Natsue mutter faintly under her breath. "Bullshit."

"I agree," Hinata agreed quietly. Natsue whipped her head around to stare at her with wide, unsuspecting eyes.

"You— you heard me?"

"W-was I— was I not supposed to?"

Natsue sucked in a breath sharply, before exhaling a sigh of defeat. She pushed her pink bangs behind her ear, and sheepishly said, "No— I mean, uh, no, that's not it. It's just... I didn't think you would agree with me, is all. People just tend to believe what the media tells them."

"That's true."

An atmosphere of silence spread over the two— neither awkward, nor companionable, but simply one where the two parties felt no need to break it with unnecessary words. Hinata traced the rim of her styrofoam cup, speculating on the recent explosion. She had a few guesses on who could have been responsible for the explosions; plausibly a nationalist group of NANO-haters, more passionate than the rest, or perhaps the scientologists themselves— they were crazy enough to try anything, after all.

But the mind-boggler was the number of NANOs who were reported to have died: 200. Far, far too less, Hinata speculated. An NGI-facility held at least five-hundred NANOs for testing in a branch. Either the media was hiding the exact death toll, or the NANOs had been shifted out before the explosion took place, and both possibilities left behind too many questions.

Something is either very wrong, or too right.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N

Wow, a multi-chaptered fic after such a long time. I know the first chapter is confusing and you might find it boring, but I promise you that things'll begin to get interesting as the story proceeds, especially with the introduction of several more characters ^.^

On an extra note, I was listening to Breakin' Through (opening song of Persona, Trinity Soul) when I wrote this xD And as for inspiration, the whole scene of a war-torn country was basically the result of my own surroundings for the past 15 years. I live in Pakistan, people ^_^

Yours truly,

Moonlight Gal.