The water poured relentlessly from the charcoal sky as Naomi looked towards the Pacific, somehow hoping that she could jump in and swim across the pond to escape her problems. But even if she did, that would just end with her washed up on the shores of Japan. There was really no escape.

Her ears and tail became waterlogged, and while Tamiko and Tanji huddled together under Mirei's yellow rain jacket, she allowed the rain to become an extension of her skin—the human anxieties overdriving any natural distaste towards the water her Nekomimi body might have had. It felt filthy against her hair, but it couldn't even compare to the little dark cloud forming in her brain.

"A 'mimi…killed her master?" Tamiko shook her head, frowning. "You can't do that." She turned towards Tanji like an upset child snitching to her teacher. "They can't do that."

"This is bad." Yulka finally said something, putting on the hood of her black poncho."CorpSec is going to be swarming the district. Should we call Koko?" The wolf already held the phone in her hand—one which was much too small for her 8ft frame.

"Yeah." Naomi turned around, taking a moment to remember what was her answer. "Yeah." She repeated, this time with more conviction. "Call Koko."

"If we call Koko, she will send CorpSec here." Tanji peered her head from underneath the jacket. "And what do you think will happen when KyotoSynth and EikōBio forces meet?" She made an explosion with her hand, allowing the jacket to droop over her eyes. "Boom!"

"CorpSec?" Mirei tapped her foot. "Aren't they working for the enemy?"

"EikōBio has CorpSec. KyotoSynth has CorpSec. Genovista has CorpSec—everyone has CorpSec!" Naomi didn't realize she raised her voice. "The issue is them clashing." She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Listen: I don't trust Oliver—not in the slightest. But the last thing we want is to provoke a potential ally."

For a moment, the horse girl just stood there, allowing the gears to click into place. "But if you don’t call her-" Mirei raised a hand. “-she will freak out and send them anyway. And then?" Mimicking Tanji, she gestured "Boom."

They all looked at each other. “That’s…that's actually a good point.” Yulka spoke slowly, finding the words which slipped out of her mouth to taste strange. Mirei made good points? Since when?

"Plus they could intercept the call—even if it does go through." Naomi added, shaking her head. "Seems there aren't any good options."

"No good options?" Tanji clenched her fist. "So pick the least bad one!"

"Can't we wait out the lockdown?" Tamiko questioned, clinging onto Mirei's leg.

"Absolutely not." Yulka sneered at the suggestion. "They will swipe us the first chance they get." Ignoring the entire KyotoSynth situation, they were still without a master. Noah's little note might have worked on the unambitious police, but CorpSec had more to gain. A single 'mimi could be worth more than their wages, and with corporate connections, it would be easy to push them under the table. She knew this process all too well. This is how Hiro found her—how she was moved from Vladivostok across the ocean.

"What about-" Naomi was about to say something, only for her and Yulka to turn towards the sound of deep, loud grunts. It was the mare, pacing in place and looking as if she was ready to run. Her dopey face had a certain seriousness the pair had never seen before. "Mirei?"

"I will run. Run back to the house. Tell Koko. Myself." Slapping her face for bravery, she reached down to pick Tanji—tucking her under her armpit like a package. The Neko, of course, began objecting, but Mirei's voice drowned her whines out. "Tanji is the slowest. I will take her with me. I've run before. I can do it."

"I don't doubt that an Umamimi could get through the district line before the CorpSec tightens their lockdown." Naomi gave her a cautious smile of approval. "But Mirei, are you sure? Really—really sure."

"Really—really—really sure." She echoed, slapping Tanji's ass from excitement.

"Hey!" The tabby objected, struggling to turn around.

"Having fewer people to worry about would make splitting up easier." Once again, the wolf was inclined to agree with the horse girl. "Very well. Mirei?" Yulka turned towards her. "Run!"

As soon as she finished her sentence, the blonde blur which was once Mirei began making her way down the promenade—a screaming Tanji in her grasp. She almost seemed to cut a path through the heavy downpour, accelerating faster and faster.

"Good. What about you-" Naomi turned around just to see the wolf girl already marching away in the opposite direction. "-Yulka?"

"It'll be easier for you two to move without me." The wolf didn't turn around, and all Naomi could see was her long, silver hair and two canine ears. "Not exactly discrete, you know? Never have been."

"Are you going to be fine on your own?" Tamiko walked up to Naomi, grabbing her hand like she often did Tanji's—except without the expected attempts at pushing her away.

"I'll figure something out." She lied, picking up the pace. "Take care of Tamiko, alright Noah?"

"I will." Naomi whispered although Yulka was already too far to hear her.

Now, it was just the two of them—her and Tamiko. The two Nekos held hands, leaving the promenade in a direction opposite to that of the old Okamimimi bodyguard. The entire district seemed somehow dimmer, with the neon bulbs failing to impress the couple anymore.

Above them, CorpSec rotorcrafts flew low, hugging the skyscrapers. Their sleek, black hulls moved like a flock of ravens—an omen of death ready to swoop down onto them. Oftentimes, it looked as if they were going to nick a few of the wires or antennas, but the piloting computer wouldn't allow this.

They kept close to the shadows, avoiding the pools of light cast by the occasional streetlamp or ad pillar. Naomi's mind raced with possibilities—each step heavier than the last. She stole a glance at Tamiko whose feline ears were also perked up.

"Don't worry." Naomi spoke up, brushing her tail against the other Neko's thigh while giving her hand a squeeze. "They're not looking for us specifically." She really wanted to believe that this was a random act of Kemonomimi violence. "When you're running away from bears. You don't need to be the quickest—just not the slowest." It was meant as a joke (despite the sloppy delivery), but Tamiko's shaking eyes were proof enough that she didn't seem to think so.

"Is what Yulka said true?" She asked, looking down at the ground as Naomi tried to remember the layout of this part of the city. Now that the car had stopped and the monorail above them wasn't allowed to move anymore, the entire place was eerily silent. Those who lived here returned to their homes, with only a few citizens standing around—twiddling their thumbs while cursing the KyotoSynth.

Naomi pressed her lips together, thinking about whether answering was worth it. Maybe it was because of her new point of view putting her on the same level as Tamiko, but she somehow felt obliged to stop treating the girl as she would a child.

"Yeah—from what I've heard at the company." She wanted to remain vague. "It's a pretty big issue. Reselling a 'mimi after reconstructive plastic surgery pays for the entire procedure, so it's more than worth it."

"A surgery?" She shivered. Being afraid of needles, she could not even imagine what this could imply.

"That's done first. Replicating the paperwork is the hard part." The woman swallowed. "There are those nanomachines—tiny surgeons who cut and snip. Very quick. Very painful." Naomi felt a lump forming in her throat as they dodged the feet of an office worker shouting into her phone for somebody to get her out of the district. "They start with your number." Of course, she didn't have one. But Tamiko did. So did Mirei and Tanji and Yulka and-

Naomi shook her head. Before allowing herself to descend into this pit, the woman rubbed Tamiko's hair, fixing up her blonde twin tails. "But it's going to be alright." She threw an empty promise into the air, heading into one of the side streets which reeked of cheap lemon-scented cleaning solution.

THUD. There came the loud, wet sound of something hitting the ground followed by that of somebody struggling to stop themselves from crying—taking many short, sharp breaths which felt like bullets. Peaking over the corner, Naomi and Tamiko just watched as their empathy fought with self-preservation instincts.

The woman's arms were shaking like an unsteady scaffolding barely capable of keeping her head above her shoulder. She was a Kitsune, only slightly taller than the both of them. Her short dark blue hair was stained with the filth of the alleyway as the woman's head was pressed against the ground by the heavy boot of the lion girl.

Raionmimi were known to be used in security forces—much like Okamimimi—so seeing them assigned to CorpSec wasn't exactly uncommon. The difference was that lions worked better alone, whereas wolves performed better in teams. The golden-maned woman wasn't by herself, but she might as well have been, with the human overseer just smoking and letting her do her thing with some degree of removal.

"Kitsune." She confirmed, applying more force and gesturing over to her superior. The fox girl just squirmed, feeling the pressure being placed on her tendons. "Same template. But her hair isn't ginger."

"Thought it was." The massive CorpSec soldier squatted next to the lion, already securing an electric harness around her thin neck while throwing the still-lit cigarette into the gutter. "Hard to tell anything apart with the district going dark." He shrugged.

Managing to take one proper breath, the fox swallowed the mixture of warm spit and blood to attempt to formulate a sentence. "My master. My-my master-"

"Shut it." Another kick. This broke something with a tactile crunch. The red-haired Kitsune's pink eyes dulled as the woman had to physically focus on not passing out with a whimper—clinging to the dark tiles below her.

Tamiko began pulling on Naomi's shoulder, hoping for her to do something—her bright blue eyes like two beacons begging for help. But all that Naomi could do was shake her head and move back behind a vending machine filled with expired drinks. That lion was literally six times her height, appearing like some sculpted statue rather than a real, living thing. Even as a human, it would've been a one-sided fight.

"They're not gonna be worth much if you keep battering them like this, Hannah. Nobody wants their 'mimi bruised." He spoke of the twitching woman as if she were a fruit as he hoisted her up over his shoulder. Despite his companion being twice his height, you could not deny that the man was still built like a pillar—his teal Kevlar broken only by the crimson KyotoSynth logo.

"I am following the directive." Hannah gave him a dirty squint. As just a CorpSec officer (and a low-ranking one at that) he seemed to be way too invested in the price of the kemonomimi they were supposed to capture. But—being under his command—she bit her tongue.

"Of course." He clicked his. "Of course you are." Why did they have to assign him a 'mimi? Sure, some of the templates were a bit hard to physically overwhelm, but she was loyal to the company—not him. District lockdowns like these used to be fun, but there is no way he would be able to peddle something with Hannah literally breathing over his shoulder. "Let's get this grid over with. The sooner we lift the lockdown, the sooner I can go home."

They passed like a storm. Only after the pounding of the boots stopped was Naomi able to take her first deep breath in a while. And Tamiko? She just went catatonic.

"We couldn't have done anything." The white-haired Neko assured—her throat dry despite all the rain.

"True." Tamiko squeezed out, feeling a certain ache in her chest. "It was her fault she strayed away from her master, correct?"

"I am not sure-" Naomi exhaled, allowing her heart rate to go down ever so slightly. "You know what? You're right. It was her fault." Best not to think about it—the crunch and the snap and the blood and her dull pink eyes.

"We're not going back home?" Tamiko questioned, squinting as the two approached the looming EikōBio tower—an alabaster pillar adorned with occasional hints of green. Having spent half an hour walking down an old metro tube and climbing over the unmanned gates with nothing but their phone flashlights, the lights of Namiport seemed oppressive. One thing was for sure: they had made it out of the lockdown zone, with the city once again basking their bodies in filthy bright light.

"No. I am going to the doctor. Right now. I can't handle being like this anymore, you know?" Naomi explained, turning towards Tamiko. "I don't hate this body. It's just…" She clenched her fist, placing her hand on her chest. "I can't protect anyone like this."

Tamiko tilted her head. "You want to protect Tanji?"

"Of course I want to protect Tanji!" She shook her hand as the two made it to the side entrance. "And Yulka and Mirei and Koko and you. I am a handler. That's my job."

"But Tanji is different." She crossed her arms while watching Naomi struggling to input Noah's access code into a keypad, with her needing to jump just to reach it—deep breaths broken up by the occasional beeps of the console.

"How?" Naomi turned back for just a moment before once again standing on her tippy-toes and extending her arms towards the cold, metallic buttons. "How is Tanji different?" Almost there…

"You want to protect her. And it's not just because you're a handler."

"It's nothing like that." Finally, the door unlocked, with Naomi holding it open for the both of them—the heavy slab of metal and glass pushing against her side. "I've just been with her the longest."

"I think it is." The woman got closer, forcing Naomi into a hug. "You really care for her. More than you care for Yulka. Or Mirei. Or me."

"Tamiko…"

"I am not offended." She placed her chin on Naomi's shoulder. "I am a little glad, actually."

"We have a job to do." Naomi tried pulling away, still stuck in this limbo between the outside and the tower as the door continued to weigh her down.

"I'll make it back home on my own. I need to check on Tanji." She smiled. "For your sake."

Naomi opened her mouth, but just swallowed and nodded. It was true—all of it. Tanji was different from the rest, and she was worried about that pudgy little cat.

"If something happens…"

"Don't say stuff like that." Naomi winced. "Don't be dramatic."

"No, listen." Tamiko shook her head. "Naomi or Noah—or whoever. If something happens…you have to…"

"Yeah?" She really wanted the woman to just spill, but the words began choking up in her throat like a scalding gas needed to be vented. Suddenly, there was a certain spark in her eyes, with Tamiko taking a deep breath before finally opening her mouth.

"You have to impregnate my sister!"

Blink. Blink—blink—blink. "Huh?"

"She’s so weird. She’s so fucking weird!" The hug got tighter. "You’re genuinely the only man she’s ever shown any interest in. Please, you have to carry on the bloodline!"

"Tamiko, what are you talking about?" Do 'mimis even have the concept of a bloodline? Or is this something she picked up from Ms. Tanikawa—her original owner? She seemed to be a rather traditional woman, so Naomi did not put it past her. That did not make the words coming out of Tamiko any less dirty—despite how innocent she sounded while saying them.

Not answering, Tamiko instead pulled away. "That felt good." She smacked her lips together, feeling a certain pressure relieved in her chest. "Good luck!" The Neko waved, running into the city.

Naomi was now alone, allowing the door to shut like the blade of a guillotine as she made her way through the sterile building. She was now amongst her peers, yet the cyclopean structure felt cold—foreign.

“Think you can still trust the doctor?”

These words lingered in her mind like an aftertaste. She trusted Emily. Right? Some KyotoSynth bunny wasn't going to change that. That woman had a certain passion for her—a drive that made the idea of the doctor betraying the corporation simply unfeasible. She might not have loved EikōBio with the same religious ferocity as Koko, but she was smart enough to realize working with them was for the best.

Maybe Oliver was just trying to scare her. But Naomi couldn't help but smile at his attempts. Good. There was reason to be afraid.

This feeling followed her as she finished an uncomfortably long elevator ride up to the main lab. Dark fluorescent yellow lights buzzed above her as she marched towards the doors—the geometric patterns decorating the halls acting like strange optical illusions meant to make them appear endless. But with the tactile sensation of her palm against the cold metal, she pushed them open.

EikōBio always prided itself on being ahead in its technology. The lab was a testament to this principle. In the centre of the room, a series of workstations stood like islands in a sea of the gleaming linoleum floor. Each station was equipped with state-of-the-art equipment: from microscopes to precision pipettes to different types of electronic detectors—all meticulously arranged and ready for use.

Behind one of the stations, Dr. Emily sat with her legs crossed. She was a determined woman—even if it looked like she was about to fall asleep any minute. Right now, the doctor was going over some bacteria colonies. It seemed rather casual, but Naomi imagined that she simply lacked the intricate knowledge of this "classified project."

"Emily!"

"Yeah?" The woman immediately fixed her posture, scanning the room for her superior. The only thing she found was a tiny Neko standing on the floor in front of her. "Ugh. Another one." She rubbed her temples, standing up and picking up the thing like a football. "Come on, little thing. Back to your cage."

"It's me—Noah!" Naomi objected, struggling in her grasp. "There was some issue with the capsule and-" She growled, struggling to explain what actually happened back there in the bath. "I had a little incident. Okay?"

"Alright, I think I know what's going on here." Emily bounced the little bundle in her arms as if trying to determine her weight. "Let's get you into the transformation pool." It sounded like she was just putting something in the oven, but once you spent long enough working with the marvels produced by the corporation, things such as changing every single cell within a person's body become just a party trick.

"You have my data, right?" Naomi questioned while getting moved. "The one of Noah, I mean."

"We store genomes of all employees. Makes it easier to recommend bonuses." In this case, "bonuses" meant removing the "hereditarily inferior" genes. "Come on." She gestured towards the pool. "Strip."

"Do you feel well?" Dr. Emily handed a glass of water mixed with various random dissolved nutrients Noah's new human body could use. This wasn't a usual change from A to B. There were more "esoteric" steps along the way. Still, the man looked to have two arms and two legs (as well as all the internal organs in the right places), so it was an overall success.

"Yeah. I feel fine." Lifting it to his lips, Noah winced at the sickly sweet smell while gulping it down. He tightened the towel a little tighter around his body while looking up. "Just…"

"Just what?" She leaned in closer. "Come on, you have to be detailed when speaking with a doctor. Even blurry vision could be a sign of an underlying health issue."

"I am already a hypochondriac, doctor. Do you really want me to start calling you after every headache?" He tried to smile at the situation, instead just taking a deep breath. "But you are right. There was something. Or rather, absence of something." The grip around his drink tightened as Noah looked up. "There is usually this…someone."

"You see them when you transform." Noah cautiously turned towards the woman as she spoke, worrying that he had perhaps misheard something. This level of understanding was certainly unexpected but welcomed.

"Yeah. In flashes—like a dream, except a lot more vivid." He pressed his hands together. "But dreams are usually easy to forget."

"They don't usually enter long-term memory." She confirmed his suspicions, looking over her tablet.

"Right." Clearing his throat, the man wanted to continue—hesitating for just a second. "There is this woman. With horns. In a birch forest. Red yes. White hair."

"So that's what that looks like." With a few flicks on her device, the doctor placed it to the side, locking eyes with her patient. "Are you aware of that certain genetic quirk you possess?"

"The one which makes all the 'mimi forms albino?" He perked up. "If it's a problem, can't you just remove it?" And while she was at it, getting the whole iron absorption issue would have been nice as well.

"Well." The doctor raised her hand. "It's not exactly albinism, per se—not an issue with your melanocytes. There is an entity living within your genome."

Noah shook his head, chuckling—for he could not muster any other response.

Her nod assured him that she was serious. "Are you aware of natural computer viruses and AIs? Those which form spontaneously from pieces of scrap code." She pointed towards his wrist. "The same thing happened with your genome. The vast majority of the human DNA is not actually used for anything, with good portions having no other purpose than ensuring their own survival."

"So what?" He stood up. "Some random scraps of DNA gained sentience?"

"Yes. The same way that random scraps of 1s and 0s can gain them."

The man clenched his fist looking up a the ceiling. "This is a lot to take in."

"But you do believe me. Right?" The doctor stood up alongside him.

Noah let out an exhausted exhale. "Yes. I believe you. You are the doctor here. But what are we supposed to do about it?" He looked up at her like somebody wanting a prescription.

She crossed her arms. "I would have preferred to study your condition more. These kinds of DNA imprints don't exactly appear often." Looking up, he could see her uncomfortable eyes. "Besides, do you need it gone ASAP? It may take a while, you know."

He knew that her objection was a mixture of friendly concern and cold fascination, but Noah couldn't help but empathize with the woman. She always wanted to push the technology further and further—ad infinitum.

"Alright. I will let you look over that little horned DNA scrap baby next time. Right now, I need to get in contact with my 'mimis." Taking out the phone, Noah looked back at Dr. Emily while inputting their numbers from memory. "Thank you for setting some time for helping me with this. I know that you are busy with that classified project."

She tilted her head. "What classified project? I've been on basic lab duty the whole day."

"Didn't Koko explain everything over the phone today?"

"Noah." Dr. Emily slouched in her chair. "We last spoke when you've gotten sick—a day after the beach event."

"So?"

"So." She crossed her arms. "Koko didn't call me."

The phone stopped ringing. No voice greeted them on the other end—only the hollow echo of a dead tone that reverberated through the lab.