Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Kimiko Miyashiro (Bonus Chapter)
A soft knock at the heavy mahogany door of my office pulled me back from my internal reverence.
I swiped my hand, dismissing the screen.
"Come in," I said.
The door opened. One of my clones, dressed in a security suit, stepped into the room. Slung over his shoulder, hanging limp like a ragdoll, was a young Japanese man.
Kenji Miyashiro.
Clone walked forward and unceremoniously deposited the unconscious man into the plush leather guest chair opposite my desk.
Clone gave me a brisk nod, then turned and exited the room, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
I stood up and walked around the desk, looking down at Kimiko’s brother.
He looked exhausted, his face bruised and pale from his time with the Shining Light Liberation Army. He was a Supe with telekinetic powers and a head full of radicalized anti-Western propaganda.
I reached out and placed my right hand firmly against his chest.
Disempowerment (Tier 1).
The process was invisible, but to my Enhanced Senses, it was a violent extraction. I felt the volatile chemical signature of Compound V suffusing his cells.
With a flex of my will, I reached into his biology and gripped the chemical structure of the drug.
I pulled.
Kenji’s unconscious body arched backward in the chair, a choked gasp escaping his lips as his nervous system experienced the sudden withdrawal of the mutagen.
A faint blue aura seemed to evaporate from his pores, dissolving harmlessly into the air. His muscles lost their unnatural density. His heart rate settled into a normal human rhythm.
He was just a human again.
I moved my hand from his chest to his forehead, pressing my fingers against his temples.
Telepathy (Tier 1).
I stepped into the chaotic architecture of his mind. I found the memories of his torture, the grueling combat training, the deeply ingrained hatred for Vought, America and the establishment. I found the fanatical devotion to the Shining Light cause.
With absolute precision, I began to excise the rot.
I deleted the faces of his radical handlers. I scrubbed the ideology from his frontal lobe, unraveling the neuro pathways that triggered his violent tendencies.
It was like editing a complex line of code.
I didn’t erase his love for his sister, nor the memory of their childhood. I preserved the core of who he was.
Then, I implanted a deep desire for peace. A profound exhaustion with fighting.
I seeded the idea that his primary goal in life was to settle down, to find a quiet job, to protect his sister and to live a thoroughly unremarkable normal life.
I built a psychological firewall around these new core tenets, ensuring they felt entirely organic and born of his own free will.
I withdrew from his mind, the telepathic surgery complete in a matter of seconds.nI stepped back and snapped my fingers sharply in front of his face.
Kenji gasped, his eyes flying open. He jerked upright in the chair, his breathing rapid. He looked around my opulent office, his eyes wide with confusion.
He looked at his hands, flexing them, sensing the absence of the telekinetic hum he had carried for years, though he couldn’t quite articulate what was missing.
"W-where am I?" he stammered in Japanese, looking up at me with panic. "Who are you?"
"Relax, Kenji," I said smoothly, speaking flawless Japanese. I offered him a warm smile, pouring every ounce of my practiced charisma into the expression.
He pressed himself back against the leather chair. "How do you know my name? The Shining Light... did they..."
"The people who took you are dead," I interrupted gently. "My security teams intercepted your transport. Your sister asked me to find you. I promised her I would."
Kenji froze. The panic in his eyes was instantly eclipsed by a desperate hope. "Kimiko? You know Kimiko? Is she... is she alive?"
"She is," I nodded, checking my watch. "In fact, I sent word to her the moment my men secured you. She should be arriving from the penthouse any minute."
As if summoned by the words, the heavy office doors swung open.
Kimiko stood in the doorway. She was wearing a simple yellow sundress, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked healthy and vibrant.
Her eyes landed on the boy sitting in the chair.
"Kenji?"
The word left her lips in a trembling whisper.
Kenji whipped his head around. He stared at her, tears instantly welling in his eyes. He stumbled out of the chair, his human legs uncoordinated.
"Kimiko!"
They collided in the center of my office, a crushing embrace. Kenji buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing openly, while Kimiko held the back of his head, her own tears tracking down her cheeks.
"You’re alive," Kenji wept. "I thought they killed you."
"I am safe, Kenji," Kimiko said, her voice slightly raspy but clear and beautifully articulate. "We are both safe now."
Kenji pulled back slightly, looking at her with absolute shock. "You... you are speaking. Kimiko, your voice..."
Kimiko smiled through her tears, reaching up to gently touch her own throat. She turned her gaze to me, her eyes filled with a depth of affection and gratitude that transcended words.
"He healed me, Kenji," she said softly, keeping her eyes on me. "He saved me. He gave me my voice back."
She reached out her hand toward me. I stepped forward and took it, intertwining our fingers.
Kenji looked from our joined hands up to my face, his expression a mix of awe and lingering confusion. "Who... who are you?"
"Kenji," Kimiko said, her voice proud. "This is Aryan Spencer. He is my boyfriend. And he is the man who rescued us."
She looked back at her brother. "You can trust him."
Kenji looked at the sheer opulence of the office, the undeniable power radiating from my posture and then at the peaceful happiness radiating from his sister.
The telepathic seeds I had planted bloomed perfectly. His shoulders dropped, the last of his tension draining away.
"Thank you," Kenji said, bowing deeply at the waist. "Thank you, Spencer-san. For my sister."
"You are family now, Kenji," I said warmly. "And family takes care of each other. I know you’ve been through hell. But that’s over. I’ve arranged for a townhouse for you in a quiet neighborhood in Queens."
Kenji blinked, overwhelmed. "I... I don’t know how to repay you."
"You don’t need to repay me," I smiled. "But if you want a fresh start, Spencer Industries is always looking for reliable personnel in our logistics and archiving departments. It’s normal work. A good salary, full benefits. The job is yours if you want it."
Kimiko squeezed my hand, a silent thank you, before turning to her brother. "Take it, Kenji," she urged gently.
Kenji looked at his hands, his powerless hands. He felt a profound exhaustion and a yearning for the peace I was offering.
He looked up, tears shining in his eyes. "I accept. I... I just want to live a normal life."
"Then a normal life is exactly what you shall have," I said.
