Latent Troubles II: Tangled Bonds

A young girl, with green hair tied in ponytail, sat alone on a dusty flatroof, veiled by a tower crane's shadow. Strong waves crashed against the elevated port, meters away from the three-story building construction she sat on. Her index finger kept scraping the the gun's trigger as she eyed a band of armed figures ushered people into a shipping container. She saw, but did nothing to stop the human traffickers from exploiting the weak.

“CATSAI, zoom in.”

The AI installed in her Scroll obliged, and manipulated her high tech sunglasses.

Cyzarine watched over the docks as part of her ANGELs duties. She didn't like it. Hell, she didn't volunteer for this. Even so, she had no say to the decision of the brass of the Bluthardt family, despite being the 2nd daughter of the matriarch. It was for the good of the entire aristocrat family, they said, to ensure that family operations won't be disturbed by other territorial factions. And they picked her, of all available human resources in disposal, to do the dirty work. Her mother was being cold to her again, unreasonably.

Speaking of family and whatnot, her second cousin had called her an hour ago. She'd like to talk in person, which Cyzarine had grudgingly and nervously agreed on. The topic? Their family, something that the young girl had been avoiding for a while. It took a stern tone for her to agree though.

Her cousin, a raven-haired beauty four years older, usually acts irritating or carefree to her. So this was rather new.

However, this conveyed that Cyzarine's recent behavior was becoming a serious matter. The young girl couldn't clearly point out why though, but she'd started strolling around Vale more, coming home less and less after it happened. A realization? Regret? She doesn't know. She followed her impulse to avoid anything or anyone related to her family. If she were to be brought home forcefully and asked why she was acting this way, she'd probably answer "I don't know". It wasn’t an ideal answer, but better to have one than nothing at all.

Cyzarine sighed, and slowed the scratching on the trigger. Her head throbbed as she remembered how did she get to where she's now.

Deep into her urge to avoid her family, she'd began avoiding her older brother, Casper, after what had happened that day- met and talked to a certain fox and fought mercenaries. Cyzarine had thought that was her first ordinary day conversing in a friendly way to a person. Then her brother, who had returned from Benilde City after months of absence, had ruined that peaceful day. Did he really have to ask why she's like this? For the first time since they've become siblings, she'd felt irritated to her older brother.

“You're going to break your nail if you keep doing that.” A sudden voice chided behind.

Cyzarine swiftly whipped her gun at the intruder before her body turned. Ingrained deep in her subconscious awakened her thirst for blood, hell bent on finishing off whoever dared to intrude her. However, just as fast as she had touched the trigger, her finger withdrew from it. The intruder, clad in black trench coat, was someone she was expecting to meet.

“Don't startle me like that,” the young girl said in low tone, eyes snapped shut as she removed her sunglasses.

"My bad. You look so anxious I couldn't help it.~” her second cousin, Brunhilde Engelnacht, responded with a chuckle.

Cyzarine opened her eyes at the young woman's reply. It was somewhat irritating, but she didn't dwell on such paltry thing. She was used hearing that coming from her second cousin's lips.

Brunhilde was tilting her head, and smiling casually, undoubtedly unaffected of what had just happened. Not that Cyzarine can lay a finger on her anyway.

At that moment, Cyzarine's blue eyes met Brunhilde's only purple eye. The former broke eye contact. The younger girl couldn't face the effortless confident aura that Brunhilde always carried around like a coat.

“You're early.” Cyzarine holstered the gun and crossed her arms, keeping her eyes on the floor.

“Of course I am.” Brunhilde flicked her ponytailed black hair. “Were you expecting something else?”

“No, I just don't have anything to say.”

The young woman sighed. Cyzarine could picture her cousin putting her hand on waist by now.

“Anyway, Rina, I think we should take a walk. Have you eaten yet?” Brunhilde said, calling Cyzarine in her nickname that came from rine, which converted the letter e to a to sound nice.

The green-haired girl darted her eyes back at her cousin. “Well, I ate donut. Wait, didn’t you choose this place?”

“Oh, I changed my mind.” Brunhilde waved her hand dismissively. “This place is too dusty and gloomy. It doesn't give the ambiance for a heart-to-heart talk.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Rather, this place is good for conducting crimes like killing people and hostage taking. If I remember correctly, the most frequent use of places like this is meetings of you-know-who.”

Cyzarine glanced around. Although the place was certainly dusty due to sacks of cement at the corner, she wondered which part Brunhilde referred to as “gloomy”. She felt that daily illegal activities don’t count as gloomy.

“That’s an odd perspective.” The young girl commented.

“I know, right? I'd thank father for that. You know how crazy that man was.”

“Uncle....”

Cyzarine muttered solemnly as she recalled her late uncle and Brunhilde’s father, Phlegethon Engelnacht. First, she remembered him as a real estate savvy. He’d always talk about things like condominiums, apartments, and reading that mood of real estate market every time she visited Brunhilde in their company. She wasn’t a businessperson but she’d learned and picked up a few things from his escapades, like what makes a property a good investment. In addition, he’d loved watching his newly-bought, “ugly duckling” properties (as he called them) turn into money-making “swans”.

However, he would have been a perfect intelligent businessman if he wasn’t a violent, demented, and sadistic former Mafioso; and an utter mindless, slave dog to the family. In that sense, Cyzarine would keep a distance from him.

“Anyways, what's with that face of yours?” Brunhilde asked.

“Huh? Is there something wrong?” Cyzarine answered back with a question.

“You look irritated.”

The young girl didn’t bother to hide her confusion, her eyes wandered around briefly before examining her hands clothed in black gloves.

“..... I don't know." the young girl said. "Maybe I’m irritated but I haven’t acknowledge it yet. I uh remembered that night at the hospital, after the Battalion fell. Mother ordered you, in person, to kill him. I also remembered how she labelled him as a liability as if he was just another human resource gone wasted. Like, look how easy it is to dispose people.”

Brunhilde furrowed her brows slightly, and appeared rather displeased and curious at the same time.

"You know how things work in the family." Brunhilde said as she looked up the clear night skies. “People are disposable and replaceable, particularly the incompetent ones, but everyone's not immune to such.”

Disposable. A word generally used in the family when their assets “depreciated” in value, whether they're machines or humans. Phlegethon Engelnacht, Brunhilde's late father, was one of them.

“Well, that's how some of us were taught to see things that way. For us, when someone tries to redefine it, it's like making up a fairy tale out of pain and tragedy for the faint of heart.” Brunhilde said, walking up to Cyzarine, and stood in front of her. "I think you can relate to this very well, having been groomed by a Scharfsinnhardt."

The young girl sighed. “How can I not? You can't shake off that easily what you've grown to believed in. That's why it looks so logical and right. Taken one step further, you could've worshiped this belief like an idol."

"Is that why you're so friendly to that fox? To try to see things differently?"

"......."

Cyzarine's eyes widened subtly as her lips curved into a frown. She didn't give an immediate answer. Instead, she rose to her feet and straightened her black short jacket.

“Who knows.” she replied, meeting her cousin's gaze with another sigh escaping deep from her lungs. “I don't know, really. But what I do know is that it feels nice to talk to someone else outside the family. It's like breathing fresh air.”

Brunhilde chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes.~ At least you're not that socially hopeless anymore.”

Just as Cyzarine was about to retort, the raven-haired woman turned around and began walking towards the exposed, plain concrete stairs.

“Oh well. I think we've overstayed our welcome. Some gangsters will be here any minute now for a meeting.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Now, where should we eat dinner....”

(WIP)