[[WEEKLY]] The maiden's illusory funeral

“And so… all is well?”

Ginkgo tapped her file folder on her desk to level them out.

“Yes, that’s everything. I’m so glad it worked out OK in the end.” Hollyhock said with a relieved smile.

“Well, I guess we can go back to regular business, then.” Ginkgo replied.

“I’m sure the new person occupying Dr. Huo’s space has been waiting to finally meet you.”

Though Hollyhock was on her way out of the office, she froze.

“Oh.. uhm… about that…”

“What is it, Holly? Speak up.”

“Dr. Huo wants to have a word with you.”

Going to the underdeck of the Ultra Station was risky for any unaware civilian, much less for… one of the highest standing current political figures, period.

Both of them knew how risky it was.

But, still…

Ginkgo had taken necessary precautions, masking her identifiable features with dark coverings. 

A woman with light blue hair at a specific internet cafe was supposed to be the main point of contact, according to Hollyhock. She said she had been nice and helpful in the past, but Ginkgo knew was she was dealing with here.

The underdeck was a crime den, through and through. And while Ginkgo loved and trusted Hollyhock, the idea that the doctor who perished years ago was there… sounded silly. 

At the most, Ginkgo was expecting that the hacker she was meant to meet with had liberated a final log from Dr. Huo when she broke into the bunker’s systems.

To Ginkgo’s surprise and relief, the internet cafe was on the outermost layer of the underdeck, and seem surprisingly well-maintained. While it was still dim inside, it was well-lit for the standards of the Ultra Station. It was relatively quiet, with only a few people minding their own business and tapping away on their computers.

As expected, the light-blue haired woman was among the few early-morning patrons – she had headphones on, and was tapping a finger on her keyboard as she stared as her laptop.

“Excuse me,” Ginkgo said, approaching the woman.

“Are you… Hoshikuma?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Ginkgo, before clicking a bit on her computer and removing her headphones.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“You were quick to pick that up.”

“If you were from around here, you’d know it was Hoshikuma-Dōji.” she mumbled.

“Look, if you’re an outsider who thought it’d be funny to look on the dark web once and then try and talk to me, I’ll let you fuck off now before I get someone to deal with you the hard way.”

Her voice was tired and blunt, and her gaze quickly shifted back to her computer after she made her threat.

“Apologies, I was referred to find you because you were supposed to have some kind of message from a former subordinate of mine named Dr. Huo.” Ginkgo said with a sigh.

“The referral was from Dr. Hollyhock, I believe you know her?”

The woman’s eyes widened suddenly, and she abruptly re-focused on Ginkgo.

“D’aw shit, you could’ve like, said something! I’m too tired for something like this after an all-nighter.”

“Well, I’m sure both you and I understand why it’d be risky for me to give any advanced notice.” Ginkgo replied.

“If you can give me the recording, I can be on my way.”

“The recording?” the woman asked in response, cocking her head.

“Yes, I had assumed you liberated some sort of message Dr. Huo left from the bunker? Considering she’s been deceased for almost 5 years now.”

There was a pause.

“Ah.” the woman started, an awkward look on her face.

“...Hollyhock didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Excuse me?”

The woman closed her laptop shut, packed it away, and stood up.

“Right, uh… follow me. You may want to… mentally clear your predispositions, maybe.” she sighed.

“Oh, and I guess if you’re ‘in’ the know… you’re free to just call me Tuesday.”

Tuesday motioned for Ginkgo to follow – and though she was hesitant to go too much deeper into the crime den, she felt there was something dire awaiting her.

Into the hallway with the bathrooms, past a keypadded doorway obscured by a bookshelf… Ginkgo had no good feelings about this.

The following corridor was dark and narrow, and there were several winding turns and a few flights of stairs downwards, before finally, a larger, open space could be seen up ahead past a beaded curtain.

And as Tuesday crossed through the curtain, a familiar raspy voice that Ginkgo didn’t think she’d ever hear again spoke;

“Oi, Tuesday, I told you that trying to keep working was a bad ide-”

Those words were abruptly cut off when Ginkgo exited the curtains and came into the speaker’s line of view.

The two stared at each other, wide-eyed and in complete silence – because neither of them had expected to see the other again, much less in a place like this.

Without much prompting, Tuesday broke the silence.

“Um! OK! I’ll, er… leave you two alone. I’m sure Yuugi needs help with something…” Tuesday said in an awkward manner, before shuffling away as fast as she could – leaving Ginkgo alone, with Qing’e staring right at her.

“Doctor… Hu-” Ginkgo started, her voice uncertain – however, she was only cut off.

“DON’T fucking call me that!!” Qing’e groaned, putting her head in her hands in frustration.

“Fuck’s sake, Tuesday could’ve given me a heads up! Fuck!”

Ginkgo let Qing’e angst to herself for a second, examining her appearance. She was recognizable, but did look much, much different; her hair was much longer, and she was covered multiple paper binding charms; as well as rope being firmly bound around her joints, almost like that of a doll’s.

There were also, disturbingly enough, a few sizable hunks of flesh missing on her collarbone and arms – but they weren’t bleeding.

There was another brief period of silence, ending with Qing’e letting out a long, frustrated sigh, before standing up, stretching with a loud crack, and approaching Ginkgo.

“Ibaraki-Dōji is one talented son of a bitch! It’s funny, because I think some of her family actually works for you.” Qing’e said, her cross expression turning into a smirk.

“It’s because of her that I’m even around to do this.”

“I see.” Ginkgo replied. She’d never been very into the ideas of occultism, but after the events of the past few weeks and now this… she admittedly had to ascribe it some merit.

“Well, I’m glad we have one more chance to talk, too.”

“Eh, really? I kind of had the feeling you’d be loathing the idea I got out of that bunker alive.”

Qing’e was kind of right.

The entire bunker operation was a disaster. It never stained Ginkgo’s reputation, as word never got out, but it weighed on Ginkgo every day.

Ginkgo just closed her eyes and let out a long, drawn out sigh.

“Well, only a little bit. But I have something to say to you, too.”

“Oh, really now? You’ve got me curious, boss. I guess I’ll let you go first.”

Another pause, as Ginkgo gathered her words.

“I’m sorry.”

The words seemed to catch Qing’e off guard.

“...What?”

Qing’e’s smirk faded.

“Did the reanimation process effect your hearing?”

“No, no. I… guess I just… never expected to hear that from you.”

Ginkgo just let out a small huff.

“I’ve had almost two decades to think about this, Huo.” she said.

“My course of action and handling of the entire operation was faulty, and for that, it cost you and your colleagues their lives. It’s nothing short of a miracle Amity is still with us, and the fact that you were able to be reanimated…”

Ginkgo paused to think, and Qing’e let her.

“Sorry could never be enough. But it’s simply all I can give.”

Another pause, as Qing’e stared at Ginkgo with disbelief in her eyes – before she broke out into a laughing fit.

It was shocking to Ginkgo, but almost… reassuring – for it was a familiar laugh she hadn’t heard in so, so long.

“Geez, way to bring down the vibe!” she said, breaking from her fit and wiping a tear away from her eye.

“You’re always so serious, boss!”

“...It’s a serious subject, is it not?”

“I suppose so.” Qing’e shrugged.

“But it’s really funny, at least given what I wanted to say…”

“Which was?”

Qing’e put her larger pawed hand in Ginkgo’s shoulder.

“Thanks!”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, I suppose I did lose my mind to desperation and isolation in a bunker. And that was a bad time, no skirting around it. But…” Qing’e said, gaining her smirk back.

“I’m happy now.”

Ginkgo’s expression simply looked more puzzled, and in an absence of words, Qing’e continued.

“No work, no rent, people respect me, a doting ladyfriend… this kind of rules, actually.” she said.

“If you’d called the whole operation quits and got me back to Megalopolis, I’d probably still be miserable!”

“Huo, it’s more complicated than…” Ginkgo started, but was quickly cut off.

“Shh! Shhh! Who cares! Say what you will, but the way of hedonism down here has certainly done me some good, okay?” Qing’e said with a reassuring smile.

“Despite it all… I think we were all able to get our happy endings, yea? Now I guess you just have to let yourself have a happy ending, too, boss.”

Qing’e took her paw off Ginkgo’s shoulder, and Ginkgo gave a silent, understanding nod.

“By the way, seriously, Doctor Huo this, Huo that… you can just call me Qing’e, now.” Qing’e snorted.

“...In that case, you have no need to continue calling me ‘boss’ – your contract was terminated long ago.” Ginkgo replied, cracking a rare smile.

“You can continue on with simply Ginkgo.”

The two enjoyed the moment for a bit, before a commotion of two voices could be heard in the next room – one of which was Tuesday’s.

“OI! Who the hell are you talkin’ to in there, Qing’e?!”

“Yuugi, stop!! It’s not a big deal!!”

“Well, it’s obviously a big deal, because you’re trying to make sure I don’t see it!”

A short moment of silence passed, before Qing’e pushed Ginkgo past the beaded curtain.

“I, uh, think you should get going. The tunnel is one way, you shouldn’t get lost.” she sighed.

Ginkgo nodded, and gave a wave as she turned around.

“By the way, you’re seriously still ‘secretly’ with Hollyhock?! Fuckin’ propose to her already or some shit!”