“I’ll be going then, partner.”
“I’m counting on you, Mr. Proprietor.”
Spurred on by the cat’s confidence, Rintaro pressed the button. The doors sprang shut, and with a gentle shudder, the elevator began to move.
*
The elevator shot up into one of the aerial corridors, leaving the cat and the man in the red suit far below. It ascended with increasing speed through a three-dimensional geometric structure. There were intersecting lines all around. As far as the eye could see the stairways stretched around in every direction, but there was not a soul to be seen. Perhaps it was a trompe l’oeil painting.
“I’m glad they didn’t make us climb all those stairs,” muttered Rintaro. “What a pain that would have been.”
Sayo smiled. She knew Rintaro was attempting to bring some levity to their surreal situation, even though he wasn’t very good at it.
“It’s incredibly unsettling.”
“Yeah, even a foulmouthed, pointlessly pompous tabby cat is a better diversion than none at all.”
Their eyes met and they both giggled.
Outside the elevator it was getting gradually darker. Although they were inside a building, it was as if the sun were slowly setting. The intricate structures began to fade into the darkness, and as their vision was getting poorer, it became impossible to tell whether the elevator was still climbing, or if it had come to a stop.
“At first I didn’t even care if I could get home again,” Rintaro said quietly.
Sayo didn’t respond, but she turned to look at her friend.
“That first time the mysterious cat took me on a journey,” he continued, “I thought that if it was a dream, I wouldn’t mind never waking up and if it wasn’t a dream then I wouldn’t mind not being able ever to make it home again.”
Rintaro adjusted his glasses.
“But ever since that cat turned up, I’ve been thinking more and more about everything that’s been going on. I feel like I’m starting to see things a little differently.”
“If this is what brings you out of your shell, it can only be a good thing,” Sayo said.
Rintaro smiled wryly.
“I’m passive, I’ll admit it, but I was really trying to keep you out of danger,” he said.
“You know, Natsuki, sometimes you talk like you’re trying out pickup lines. Is that a side effect of reading too many books?”
“Okay, let me rephrase. I’m sorry for getting you involved in this mess.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m having a great time here. And you know what? It’s fun seeing a different side of you, Natsuki.”
“Different how?”
“Forget I said anything,” she said, laughing it off.
Sayo pictured Rintaro standing up to the white-coated scholar in that strange underground laboratory. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone back to that image, but Rintaro would never know that.
Just as Rintaro was about to ask Sayo more questions, he felt the elevator slowing down to a stop. Once again, the door slid open noiselessly, revealing a dimly lit space beyond. It was almost impossible to make out the size or scale of the space because of how gloomy it was. However, a red carpet ran straight ahead, indicating where Rintaro and Sayo should go. At the far end was a heavy, wooden door with geometric patterns carved into it. There was something very intimidating about that door.
“Go on, Natsuki!”
“If you’re asking me to . . .”
“You’ll be fine.”