Shrouded Intentions

"Is the investigator dead?" Ryo murmured, the question reverberating in his mind. A sharp, unrelenting pain seized him, more intense than ever before. The agony grew, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by a torrent of fragmented memories: a violent struggle, the crack of gunfire, and Asaku's face twisted in fear and shock.

Ryo clutched his head as the memories crashed over him like relentless waves. He saw a dimly lit room, the weight of something heavy in his hand—a head, perhaps. The vivid image of a child pleading for mercy echoed in his mind: "Please stop this!"

"Ryo, breakfast is ready!" Aunt May's call from the kitchen jolted him back to the present. He responded, though his mind remained clouded with confusion. As he ate, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him, a sense that he was entangled in something far more sinister than he had ever imagined. And whatever it was, it was only just beginning.

"You look pale," Aunt May remarked.

"I'm fine," Ryo replied, forcing himself to eat despite the heaviness of each bite. The news of Mr. Asaku's death, the mysterious wound, and the fragmented memories swirled in his mind, a storm of uncertainty and fear.

After breakfast, Aunt May sat beside him, her eyes filled with concern. "Ryo, if there's anything you need to talk about, anything at all, you can tell me."

Ryo met her gaze, contemplating whether to share everything he remembered. "Aunt May, do you believe in things that can't be explained? Memories that don't make sense or events that feel like dreams but might be real?"

Aunt May hesitated before responding. "Ryo, sometimes our minds try to protect us by making things seem like dreams, especially when we've been through trauma. But if you're experiencing something more than that, we need to get to the bottom of it.

"You can talk to me if you ever feel like it," she said as she went to answer the ringing house phone.

"Okay," Ryo replied, retreating to his room. He lay on his bed, trying to unravel the chaos in his mind. The wound was gone, yet the pain in his head remained, different this time. As the pain subsided, he forgot what had just happened.

Ryo closed his eyes, attempting to focus on the fragmented memories: a dimly lit room, a struggle, gunfire. Each image felt like a puzzle piece, elusive and incomplete. It was as if his mind shielded him from something too traumatic to confront directly.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Ryo, are you okay?" Aunt May's voice was tinged with concern. Ryo opened his eyes and sat up. "I'm fine, Aunt May," he replied, though uncertainty lingered in his voice.

"Alright, just checking on you," she said, her worry palpable.

As Aunt May left, an unsettling sensation crept over him, as if he were being watched. He locked the door and was once again consumed by his thoughts. He covered his head with his arms, trying to shield himself from the relentless pain and agony. The blurry visions and persistent beeping seemed determined to consume him. He fell to the floor, writhing in silent torment.

"Just stop it, I can't take it anymore."

Suddenly, the excruciating pain began to fade, replaced by an inexplicable sensation of pleasure. The contrast was jarring, leaving him disoriented and confused. As the pain and noise subsided, he felt a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

After a few moments, Ryo managed to get up from the floor, his body trembling from the ordeal. He noticed a white, viscous fluid on his pants. Confounded, he quickly changed into a clean pair of pants and discreetly placed the soiled ones in the laundry basket, hoping to avoid any questions.

Uncle Joe finally returned, and Aunt May immediately informed him about Ryo's recent confusion and the distressing incidents.

"Don't worry, we will have a conversation with him after dinner," Uncle Joe assured her.

After dinner, Ryo was called to Uncle Joe's room, where both Uncle Joe and Aunt May were waiting for him. The atmosphere was tense, filled with unspoken concerns and the weight of long-held secrets.

Uncle Joe began, his tone serious yet gentle. "Ryo, there's something important we need to talk about regarding your parents. I know you believe, or were told, that they were business people, but that isn't the full story. Your father, Yuu, was a researcher, and so was your mother, Rei. They were deeply involved in scientific research. That's the truth."

Ryo took a moment to absorb this revelation. "I see," he replied, his voice steady but his mind racing with questions.

Uncle Joe continued, "I don't know why you were led to believe they were business people. It might have been for your safety or to protect you from the complexities of their work."

Aunt May interjected softly, "We didn't know the full extent of their research, Ryo. They kept much of it private, even from family. But whatever they were involved in, it was significant enough that they felt the need to conceal their true professions."

Ryo nodded, trying to process this new information. "Do you know anything about the nature of their research? What they were working on?"

Uncle Joe sighed. "I wish I could tell you more, but I don't have those details. Your parents were very secretive about their work. However, considering recent events, it's possible that their research is connected to what's happening to you now."

Aunt May added, "We're here for you, Ryo. We'll protect you from whatever dangers might be out there."

Ryo felt a mix of relief and apprehension. While he was grateful for their support, the mystery surrounding his parents' true identities and the dangers they might have left behind weighed heavily on him. He knew that finding the answers wouldn't be easy, but with Uncle Joe and Aunt May by his side, he felt a renewed sense of determination.

With that, the conversation ended, but the journey for answers had only just begun. Ryo knew that he had to delve deeper into his parents' past and their research, hoping to unravel the mysteries that had upended his life.

The next day, Aunt May woke Ryo and informed him that some visitors had come to see him.

"Ryo, they are your parents' colleagues. They couldn't attend the funeral, so they've come to pay their respects," Uncle Joe explained.

There were four visitors: three men and one woman, all dressed casually. One was a tall, bald, dark-skinned man, another was a stout man, and the third appeared to be a foreigner. The woman had blonde hair and a striking figure, not at all what Ryo expected of researchers.

"You can ask them the questions you had in mind," Aunt May whispered to Ryo.

"How have you been, Zephyr?" the stout man asked.

"Zephyr?" Ryo questioned himself.

Before he knew it, a sharp, unbearable pain surged through Ryo, causing everything to go blank. Just as he was about to collapse, the female researcher caught him.

When Ryo next opened his eyes, he felt something soft and squishy pressing against his head. He tried to grasp the object, but it was too large to fit in one hand.

"Hey now, aren't you a horny one," the female researcher remarked.

"What happened?" Ryo asked the woman.

"Nothing. You just collapsed from exhaustion," she replied.

As Ryo stepped away from her, he noticed a small red dot on his right arm. Upon closer inspection, it revealed an injection wound. He had been injected with something, but he didn't know when.

"When did this happen?" Ryo wondered to himself.

"Ryo, you're going for a checkup after breakfast, and that's final," Aunt May asserted.

"Yeah, you heard her," Uncle Joe chimed in.

"I hope you're doing well, young man. Your parents were very close colleagues, and we would like to talk to you in private, if you don't mind," the foreign man spoke.

Uncle Joe, sensing the sensitivity of their research, suggested, "Come on, May, let's give them a moment."

"I can't believe you're living in this place," remarked the foreigner, visibly disdainful.

Ryo stood there, silent and shocked at their sudden change in attitude.

"Come live with us, Ryo. We'll provide you a better home than these penny-less people could ever hope to offer," the woman said.

"I wanted to ask you about my parents' work," Ryo spoke.

At his question, an unsettling grin spread across the researchers' faces.

"That, my friend, we can't tell you unless you come with us," the dark-skinned man added.

"I know you need time to decide and say your goodbyes—"

"Fine, I'll go with you," Ryo interjected, his voice devoid of emotion.

"A hasty one, aren't you," the woman remarked. "But I kinda like that."

"Great. Pack your things. We'll pick you up in an hour," she added.

As they left the room, Uncle Joe saw them to the door and invited them to join for breakfast.

"As if we'd eat that shit" muttered the stout man under his breath.

"Sorry?" Uncle Joe asked, not catching the comment.

"We're sorry, but we have an urgent meeting to attend. We'll be taking our leave," the woman said, stepping harshly on the man who had spoken out. He winced in pain but said nothing.

As they departed, the woman discarded an empty syringe into a street trash can.

"The Zephyr is still unpredictable," she added.

"But the plan went too smoothly," the tall dark-skinned man remarked. "It's like the chicken presented itself on a platter."

"Yeah, I thought for sure we'd have to deploy the shadow squad," the short man added.

As they drove away in a long black van, she murmured, "Zephyr, you won't escape this time."