“T.E.N.A.N.T.”

 

Author’s Notes: Yay for psyche cats!  Mwahaha.  Now you get to find out why Ren was such an asshole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He sat rigid on the examination table, glowering through the glass at the doctors who were discussing something amongst each other.  Through their gestures, Gackt could only guess that the subject of their discourse was himself.  His eyes flicked to Fujimura who stood apart from the others.  They regarded each other apathetically.  Visible emotion was a danger in this place: always.  But it seemed to the man seated on the steel table, that the Lieutenant’s eyes were clouded by something…

 

The doctors finished their altercation and turned back to the patient in the other room.  One of them pushed a button to the intercom and spoke, his voice loud and gravelly, distorted by the poor connection, “We have one more test.”  With that, the others walked through the air tight door that sealed off their patient from the rest of the world.

 

*****

 

Cha watched from the outside as the doctors went about preparing Gackt for a psyche catechization.  A risky venture, as always, but even more so with a possibly unstable patient. 

 

The man on the table was instructed to lie down, which he did without question, but he continued to watch Cha with his cold, dark eyes.  A doctor unintentionally walked in between them, blocking the Lieutenant’s view. 

 

Gackt’s body suddenly spasmed in pain on the table.  Two of the doctors pressed their hands against the other’s chest and arms, holding him down should he struggle.

 

Closing his eyes, Fujimura recalled the bitter memories of his own experience of the catechization…the needles, the plugs, the wires connecting his mind to the unaffected computer; watching everything happen again and again, like a skip in a disk, repetitive.  All the pain, the fear, the grief came back…

 

Cha wondered for a moment if they were ever exposed to the procedures they made others undergo.  Once one was “downloaded,” those heartless bastards had one’s entire psyche in their sadistic little hands.  Did they even know what you saw when they rewound and played and fast forwarded…?

 

Tearing his eyes off of the twitching body on the examination table, Fujimura turned to the video monitors, which buzzed to life as the doors to Gackt’s mind were opened…

 

Static.

 

“Try the other frequency…” commanded on of the doctors.

 

More static.  But, as Cha walked closer, squinting at the screen, vague shapes began to immerge…  “Can you run it through a filter?”

 

Apparently they could.  Every few seconds there would be a visual ‘click’ as the images were run through again and again.  Suddenly – “Stop!”  The doctors froze in place.

 

Images supposedly at random.

 

Fire…a uniformed man in a wheelchair grinning viciously…a girl with a bullet hole in her forehead, a pool of blood forming around her…the symbol of the Tenant Sovereign, dripping blood, bathed in…dark light…a little red-headed boy crying…a clock, its hands spinning…time passing…snow…a white-faced woman with dark painted lips and eyes…a dark-haired youth…white feathers…wings…the same youth, his hair, encircling his face, cheeks flushed, laying in a bed, holding a man’s hand to his cheek…his smiled…the woman again, but now, her beautiful face was distorted in agony, eyes starring, slight body riddled with bullets, pale thighs painted with blood…lace, dappled with blood…uniformed men with guns, shouting, circling…one by one they fell or fled…the dead woman flashed across the screen again…a bloody hand reached forward, stopping suddenly…a second joined it, as bloody as the first…the hands shook as sudden realization hit the owner…the hands disappeared…a prolonged image of the woman, distorted by…water? tears? –

 

“NO MORE!”  Gackt shot up from the table, eyes staring, unseeing.  Silence.  As suddenly as it happened, his eyes rolled back, showing the whites, and he collapsed onto the bed.

 

*****

 

Tipping back in one of the straight backed chairs, Masa sat with his companions in one of the many meeting rooms, to which the 4th had access.  No one had spoken in the last twenty minutes and he didn’t think anyone was about to do so.  Sighing to himself, he let the two air-borne legs of his chair drop to the floor as he leaned forward to rest his head on the table.  The youth had the worst headache.  His head hadn’t pained him like this since…

 

Blinking back tears, he shoved the memories of the psyche cat into the back of his mind.  He didn’t want to think about that.  He was just glad that he would never have to do it again.

 

Psyche catechizations were a good idea, he guessed.  They at least worked the way they were supposed to, identifying any “weak links,” spies, and psychotics before it was too late to do anything to prevent whatever downfall they would bring to the cause.  Masa only wished that the scientists that had created the procedure had found, or would find if they were still alive, a way to make the process at least a little less painful.  A dose or two of Morphine or Vicadin or whatever those quacks in lab coats had in stock would be great before being stuck full of needles and wires and hooked up to a CPU.

 

The door to the meeting room opened and Cha walked with heavy steps into the room, taking the closest chair to him and collapsing, boneless, into it.  The blond lieutenant looked positively green.

 

“Sir?” Toshi questioned, worried.

 

Cha didn’t budge, but groaned in response.

 

“Sir, if I may say, I think you look like shit.”

 

The other nodded and slowly brought his head up to regard his comrades.  “I bet I do.”

 

“What happened?” Masa murmured.  A sudden surge of pain lanced through his head.  He winced and pressed his fingers to his temple.

 

Their superior officer sat silent for a moment but finally, stated quietly, “A lot of things…to our friend that is.  We – the doctors and I – we only saw the abridged version, and even so, only a part of that.  But…I think it’s safe to say that he’s gone through…Hell…”  His voice faded as he spoke.  Then, to himself, “No one should have to see that…”

 

“Sir?”

 

This new voice startled most of them.  Ren hadn’t spoke since they arrived. 

 

Aa?”

 

Ren fidgeted.  “Can…can we access his REM-files [1]…?”

 

Cha looked at his subordinate, not really understanding.  Why...?  “Yeah…” he stated as he withdrew his ID card, “…but you’ll need a password…”

 

*****

 

Ren typed password after code after ID number into the computer, slowly but surely gaining access to what he needed.  Cha warned him about what he would see.  He didn’t care.  He needed to know.  He needed…

 

Soldiers in his rank weren’t permitted access to the psyche cat database, much less use it – discovery would mean court martial for him and, possibly, Cha as well considering he had given the required information to him of free will…and considering the fact that Cha wasn’t much liked by the leaders of the organization.  Asking too many questions and thinking for yourself when you were given strict orders wasn’t rewarded often.

 

Finding what he was looking for, Ren stood and stretched before delving into the mind of a murderer.  Looking around he noticed how gloomy the bunker looked, even with the posters and pictures and cards to the other soldiers from their respective homes. 

 

Walking over to one picture he regarded a happy family – complete with a dog which sat in the little girl’s lap, tongue lulling out of it’s wide mouth with a blissful contentment only a dog could possess.  Flipping the photograph over, he read the back:

 

~David~

 

Can’t wait to see you again! 

With all our love, hope, and prayers!

 

Mom, Dad, Sarah, and Holly

 

Swallowing past the painful lump which had surfaced in his throat, Ren swiftly replaced the picture and, wiping furiously at his eyes, walked back to the computer. 

 

Clicking on Gackt’s folder, he searched the contents for something…anything…

 

There.

 

Clicking on one subfolder, he opened the file.

 

…a girl with a bullet hole in her forehead, a pool of blood forming around her…

 

Ren bit back a cry.  “‘Neesan…” he whispered, touching the screen, wanting to feel so much more than just the cool glass under his fingertips.

 

Going back to the beginning of the selection the doctors had saved, he went through the frames of the file one by one, playing the audio as quietly as he could. 

 

Voices, almost covered with static, but distinct.  The TS soldiers…his murdered sister…and another…Gackt?

 

“Here’s the spy, sir.  We captured her just outside the base.  She had this with her.”  One of the uniformed men tossed a disk onto a wooden table. 

 

“Thank you, captain.  You are dismissed.”  The men saluted and walked out, chuckling about how the captive would make a good whore.

 

Ren grit his teeth, taking deep breaths.

 

The frame shifted.  Gackt must have stood and then sunk to his knees, as the girl’s face was directly in front of the screen.

 

“Well, they’re right in a few things: you are a spy…”  The girl glared at him.  “…and…you are beautiful.”

 

The frame shifted again, and Ren watched his sister disappear as Gackt turned his back on her. 

 

“I’ll give you no information, so stop stalling and kill me already.”

 

“I don’t want information.  This,” he said, holding up the disk and turning back to her, “is all they need.”  Gackt sunk to his knees again.  “The way I see it, you have some choices.”

 

“Oh really?”  She wasn’t convinced.

 

“Yes.  One: I can release you, say it was a mistake.”

 

“They’d watch me for the rest of my life, find my friends, prevent me from helping the cause…”

 

“…Two: You could escape.”

 

“They’d catch me eventually – they have vehicles, all I have are my feet.  Besides, my brother is the red-head in the mess hall being tormented by your underlings, one of whom, I might add, stole his stuffed animal which was a gift from our father before he died in a raid three years ago.  It’s very dear to him, as he is very dear to me.  I couldn’t leave him.”

 

“You could create a diversion.”

 

She shook her head.  “I have nothing to create one with.  Not to mention the camp is crawling with those bastards.  I wouldn’t get far.”

 

“…Three: You could come with me.”

 

“I’d rather not be a Tenant whore, thank you.”

 

“You wouldn’t be my whore.  I’d protect you…from them…Nothing would come of it.  You would have access to everything on the TS mainframe.”

 

“As tempting as you make it sound…I couldn’t.  Eventually I’d be taken by those grinning snakes.  Whether your subordinates or your superiors, we’d slip somewhere and they’d get me.  Perhaps kill you.  And you seem like a nice enough guy…”

 

“I figured as much…”

 

An uncomfortable silence settled over them.  Gackt not wanting to say it, her expecting it. 

 

“Kill me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Kill me.  It’s the only option that will work.”

 

“What do you mean, the ‘only option?’”

 

“I can barter my life for my brothers, die a martyr to the cause, and you’ll answer to no one.”

 

Gackt looked away… “There’s been too much death…why…?”

 

“Please?”

 

He turned back to her.  She was crying.  Gackt nodded.  “As you wish…”  He took gun from the cupboard and, with shaking hands, turned it on her.  “I’ll make it fast…painless.”

 

She nodded tearfully, taking a deep breath to settle her heart.  Closing her eyes, she waited.

 

Gackt fired.

 

The girl toppled over backward and lay on the ground, still.

 

The guards that had been outside the door ran in to stand at attention.

 

“Clean this up.”

 

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison, saluting and taking the girl’s body.

 

“…Be gentle.”

 

They hesitated, but nodded, being careful as not to jar the corpse too much.  Gackt walked quickly up to one of them and took the man’s shoulder.  “Did you hear anything?”

 

“N-no sir, not before the shot.”

 

“Good.  If anyone asks, inform them that it was a routine elimination of a spy plotting against the Sovereign.  If they have any questions, they can come to me.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“And the boy in the mess hall – a little red-head…”

 

“…Yes sir?”

 

“Send him home, without injury.  Don’t follow him.  Return the stuffed animal you stole intact to him.”

 

“Y-yes, sir.”  The man sounded surprised that his commander knew anything about the boy.

 

When the guards had left, Gackt returned to his table and took the disk in hand.  A girl had died for it, for her ‘cause’ as she had said.  More innocent blood, shed without reason.  “God forgive me…”

 

Taking the disk between his hands, the man snapped it clean in half and, tearing the film out of it and tearing it to shreds, he tossed the pieces into the metal waste basket next to the desk.  Taking a sip from the wine glass next to his arm, he poured the rest of the liquor over the remains of the disk.  Lighting a match, he dropped it into the basket and watched as the flames ate the evidence with hungry, red mouths.

 

The file ended.  The screen went black. 

 

Ren buried his face in his hands and cried.

 

 

 

 

[1] “REM-files” = “Reminiscence files,” or the data acquired from a psyche catechization