Halle had a composure unlike those of her coworkers. Certainly she did share the disheveled appearance as the other two; her hair hadn't seen a shower in almost a week, her lips parted with her color gloss, her wardrobe remained unchanged, and a decent meal was long overdue. What made her unique at the moment was her trance-like state. She was sitting with proper posture and fixed her gaze toward

"What the hell are we gonna do," Stephen angrily sighed, "the public wants answers we don't have! We want the answers that we don't have!"

"We're just gonna have to keep working at it like we always." Anthony countered, drinking another cup of coffee.

"And in the meantime, what do we do for the city?! Just tell everybody to stay indoors indefinitely until we can figure out how to stop him? We have had no new leads since we took this case a week ago! Near isn't even trying-!"

Ever so suddenly, Halle slammed her fist on the coffee table from behind her, and the rest of the world caught up to her silence.

Nate was never able to quite deduce why people, especially in masses, tended to follow the conventions, banalities, and laws provided by both society and government. Fundamentally he figured that people preferred order and structure despite individual grievances in contemporary thinking. Any laws, by nature or by man, ultimately kills the illusion of freedom. But the man who never tests his boundaries does not question whether or not they are free.

Maybe, he also rationed, he should try getting more sleep like the girl had always pleaded to him.

An often under-appreciated benefit of the girl's employment was that he always had a chess partner. It went without saying that he had yet to lose a match; that was not to say that the girl hadn't provided a challenge almost half of the time. She also had a penchant for the game of strategical competition, but her skills dwindled to the capacity of a novice whenever she played with him. He looked beyond her as his king conquered her own.

She grinned.

"I think I have the pleasure of witnessing your first mistake."

With that, she moved her ruffled sweater sleeve to reveal a bishop, its path diagonal to his king. He had already submitted his move by removing his slender fingers from the piece. An ignore was given to his gasp as she flicked his king. He sat in silence, again staring at her.

"You cheated," He sounded more amused than angry.

"No, I saw that you had forgotten about my bishop, so I wasn't going to remind you."

After she hid her piece during their game, she found herself somewhat drenched in perturbation. He hadn't ever forgotten about which pieces were still in play. The whole staple of his genius and work was his attention to detail and ability to conjure previously seen images in his head with impeccable accuracy. Certainly he was susceptible to mistakes as per the human condition, but he never made stupid mistakes; his calculus may be challenged, but his algebra was always perfect.

Still, he was not one to waste time on regretting his errors too greatly. In an unceremonious action, he placed the pieces into their bag and set the game aside from his space and attention. With some resemblance to the preceding structure, his empire of playing cards encased the room, but underwent revisions in design, and now had adequate spacing and pathways. In the center, he contained his toys and self within a sphere, with enough free space to comfortably hold five people. Trains, automobiles, and planes stayed in one corner, robots took another, and most of the time, the girl sat in the one closest to Nate.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine." He picked up a pair of dice.

She knew he lied not because of a lack of a convincing facade; rather, he simply wasn't going to give her an opportunity to ask about what she wasn't prepared to hear.

"So that new movie with the actor I like from Wales premiers tonight, and I'm going. Do you wanna come with me? If you're not gonna sleep, you should take a break, at least."

A single cube rolled to her. She could see she was given the number six. Nate too was analyzing his digited surface. Inexplicably the girl was submerged into a state of irritation and a bit of contempt. He wasn't talking, he was breathing too quietly for her to hear, and he didn't even offer her a peripheral glance.

"No."

"...Why not?"

"Because I told you to."

"Wait... What do you mean, 'because I told you too', I'm going either way. I just wanted to include you."

"You're going to stay here," He stated, twirling his hair as he examined the dice between his index finger and thumb.

She made sure not to sound defensive, and took a breath, "What's making me?"

"Nothing."

He was such an absolute irritant without trying at times. Countless weeks and many months of knowing and working for Nate allowed her to know him more intimately than she did anybody else she had ever met. At this point in time, she knew that he didn't arbitrarily assign her duties or command her without legitimate intentions. That wasn't to say that he hadn't made the wrong call before.

"I'm going."

"You're not."

She rose from her spot and walked through one of the card corridors. After walking straight, she turned to a divergent route, ultimately snaking its way to another circular space. It resembled Nate's greatly, but it had more of her decorative and practical tastes. With a sigh, she folded her arms and sat in her swivel chair.

"I heard that." He said.

She rolled over to the other side of her wall, "I'll stay in tonight. Even though I have been talking about this movie for over three months, I don't want to leave you alone."

"Thank you," he said, glancing at her through the cards.

"Yeah. I guess I'd rather not deal with the rest of them right now, anyway."

The girl was not a party girl. Granted she could hold her own, but she didn't habitually go out at all. In fact, for the last four weeks, she didn't leave the facility alone, and there was no talk of evenings out. She didn't think he was being too irrational considering the news reports the television and papers presented to the public. Their little section of Japan gained unwanted national attention in the last month as an unprecedented amount of people began disappearing; a trend of the outlier was the target of young women more than any other demographic.

But there were no leads. The city police realized immediately that the case was out of their hands once missing people's reports flooded the offices. It graduated to Nate's organization within twenty hours of making the headlines. It seemed simple enough; find out where the young missing girls were last seen, determine hot spots, set up surveillance and let time become an ally. But there weren't any areas that had significantly more reports of final sightings, no bars, clubs, or restaurants reported seeing the missing, and of the missing persons, the batteries in their cell phones had been destroyed in various locations, so they couldn't be tracked to at least somewhere. That told Nate that there were multiple parties involved and that there was likely a network established. Over five hundred women and counting were estimated to have disappeared since the projected beginning.

And, again, the girl could only ask Nate, "Are you okay?"

No.

Her frets and frowns hugged his shielded frustration. Every dice roll, robot war, and bullseye had been filmed through her teary eyes. A hunger had fattened inside of Nate that she couldn't satiate with proper meals, of which often lost warmth before even being pushed aside. Ghostly caresses of perpetually hunched-over shoulders were met with curt jerks away. The smile in her eyes glowered until his entity was too ugly to look at. Any shed tears burned just as much as her anger, and eventually, she couldn't even sit in her own card alcove beside his. She grabbed a face-down card from the floor, once again causing the structures to fall. After they had settled, Nate was revealed to be sitting just two feet away from her. His back faced her.

He sighed, "A bit unnecessary."

"Wow, you remember how to talk," she spat, not realizing the sharpness in her voice.

"Are you acting out for my attention?"

"No, I'm acting out for my goddamn natural rights! I haven't left this building, let alone room, practically, for weeks! I'm losing my fucking mind, can't you see that! I haven't seen any of my friends or went back home to see my family in almost a year, ever since I started working for you! And What's it for? To be isolated from anybody else, to only spend time with you for months and still feel like you're a complete stranger! I used to think you were doing this to protect me, but that's not true! You're just mad that the great genius that is you can't solve this one as easily as you do every other! If you would just be my friend- no, just decent and capable of common courtesy, then maybe I wouldn't feel like your fucking prisoner! I quit!"

Before she began to yell at him, he was about to toss a dice to the floor, but it stayed still between his fingers, and he intently stared at it. He could hear her panting to catch her breath. That was certainly new for the both of them. The girl understood that she said everything in anger, but she was shaking and felt nearly bulletproof.

"If you want to quit, you may. Thank you for all of your services, to me and the others."

He turned to her. She couldn't tell whether his actual eyes or bags were darker, and they struggled to stay half lidded. There was a certain nudity about him, even as he wore his beloved pajamas.

"But you're still going to stay here until we can resolve this investigation."

Her voice simply cracked as words failed her. She fell to her knees, beginning to sob. An urge to vomit was brewing within her, but she was distracted by being handed a teddy bear. His teddy bear.

"You can keep him."

She grabbed his collar and brought him close to her, as she was barely able to speak to him. She fell and began to hold him.

"Please.... Let me leave."

"No."

He had anticipated more yelling, but she got straight to the punch by punching him straight in the face, sending him down. Without allowing herself to grow concerned for him she ran out of he room, down the hall, past her (former) associates, and soon, out of headquarters. She cried more than she had before, apologizing to her boss as she walked away.

Nate had watched her from the desktop monitor until she was out of sight. He looked to his side to see his bear had been gone.

The girl was at a loss for what her next move was. She had no job anymore, no place to live, and wasn't even sure where the night would take her. The drink she enjoyed had been earned, but she knew better than to become helplessly drunk alone. So, her second was her last, and she was thankful for that, as she could not handle yet another creepy smile from her bartender. He gave off an uncomfortable aura. She looked at her finger, polished just earlier that day. Discretely she swirled her finger in her drink and saw it maintain its original color.

"Well, thanks... Jackass."

Even when not around, Nate was able to provide her with interesting and crucial information; this time, it being that her drink was not spiked. He had attained the polish long ago simply because the girl had mentioned that it have been invented. Ever since then she wore only those coats. Really, after thinking about it, she wrapped her entire life around Nate and his well-being, and the sudden apathy toward him wasn't working with her. She sighed, swallowed her drink, then her pride.

"Hey, are you alright?" A waitress asked from beside her.

She nodded yes, and was given a glass of water. Not thinking much of it, she drank it promptly, then left the bar to go to the dancefloor, at least for a single song. There was no spark into feverish movements or adoration for others dancing beside her. In fact, her rhythmic swaying of the hips soon subsided completely, until she froze. She stood outside the building, reached into her large purse, and held the teddy bear. It smelled like Nate. Soft, subtle, but sweet. Her new headache was the final straw that convinced her to go back to headquarters, face Nate, and apologize, even if she didn't get her job back.

"Hey," her arm was abruptly grabbed, "Let me help you walk, sweetheart."

She immediately pulled away, but he grabbed her by the waist and covered her mouth. He struggled to get her to the alley beside the bar, so he forcefully threw her to the ground. The stranger opened the doors to the back of his van, where three other girls were beaten and tied. The girl desperately wanted to get up, but she found herself immobile and weary. She instead tried to crawl away, but her ankles were grabbed and she was dragged a few feet before he suddenly stopped. She crawled beside a dumpster, unsure of why he stopped grabbing her until a bullet struck him. Actually, hundreds must have penetrated his body before he fell to the ground. The parade ended momentarily until the other side responded with shots, and there was a small war that saw everybody die, except for the girl. Just as quickly as they arrived, they dissipated.

Walking had become difficult since step one, but she sloppily trotted along, thankful that she was only a few blocks away. She cried the entire time. Over and over, she lamented her treatment toward Nate, feeling lousy about her loyalty to him. She gazed upward to see that she was next to the steps to headquarters. The girl barely grasped the rail before she fell unconscious.

"Fuck!" Nate yelled running from his spot beside the monitor.