"Modeling shoot? With Cecil?" I asked, nearly choking on the words. My boss sighed.

"I'm just as appalled as you are, Shindo. But they needed another model and Cecil was the first to volunteer you. I'm afraid he's formed a... Keen liking for you." I found him grimacing at the words entertaining, but also puzzling. How would our relationship affect him?

Didn't ask.

Couldn't ask.

Too dangerous.

"I got you out of work." Cecil grinned as four people surrounded us, checking us over simultaneously,
"Well, I mean, you kinda have me more work, but I'm fine with it." He clicked his tongue at my response, wandering off in the room.

"Mister Shindo, remove your shirt, please." A small voice asked. Someone used to speaking quietly around those she worked for in fear of being treated rudely. I tended and she flinched. It wasn't for anything major. It was injuries across my torso from scuffles with my Ghost. I... Didn't want Cecil to worry.
Yeah.
That's what was worrying me.

"Okay." I nodded, fiddling with the buttons timidly.
"What, afraid to show your midriff to me?" Cecil teased. He already had his off, glorious tanned muscles lighting up the room.
I scoffed.
"Of course not." I finally got the bottom button out. My shirt slid to the floor, and I could hear Cecil suck in his breath. The woman assisting me asked no questions, handing me a new shirt. I glanced at the mirror. Bruises littered my torso, faint scar across my chest.

Not a beautiful sight, but easily covered by makeup.

That wasn't necessary for the shoot. It was quick and simple, only taking up an hour of the day.

Cecil was staring at my covered up torso the entire time with some sort of frustrated expression.

I dreaded that conversation with him.

What lies would I have to conjure up?

Hell, what would a valid excuse for those injuries be?

I never found one.

"Mika, where did you get those? You're not being abused or anything, right?" He asked quickly, bombarding me in my office.
"No." I shook my head.
"Then... Where did you get them?"

"Unimportant." I attempted to evade his question. He bit on his lip in worry.
"It is important. That's the problem. I wanna help, but I don't know what's hurting you."
My Green Ghost is, Cecil.

If only I could tell you.

"I'm fine." I reassured him, leaning back in my chair. The light on my monitor flickered. Cynthia had returned from her daily scavenging of the databases.
"I'm not gonna get anything out of you, huh." He sighed. I nodded.

"Alright. Good luck on your work." He said with some level of disappointment that strained my heart.

Music blasted through the building, at a painfully loud volume, too. It lasted a second, but I heard some people fall out of their chairs. I automatically knew who the culprit was.

Yuichiro was in the music department, and what I heard wasn't familiar in the slightest. It was good, but far too loud to be enjoyable. Maybe if he played it at a lower volume. Someone yelled at him, and I heard a feeble apology.
"Well, that was eventful." Cynthia commented. I chuckled.
"Sure was. Hurt the ears of anyone who isn't a sentient AI program, though." I commented, pulling a book from the shelf in my wall. Only a few of them were real. The others were hollow with weapons and poisons within, for the instance if I ever needed to protect myself or if I was hired to kill someone in my workspace.
That was some of my worries, of course. And quite possibly why I never had friends here.
I didn't want to be the one to kill them.
But, I am programmed to obey. I would end any of their lives if I was commanded, although never in the way they request.

Even Cecil Rogue, unfortunately.

Although I had a feeling he wouldn't be killed for anything.

It was just a hunch, but he seemed too important of an asset in this town.
And too smart to get himself into trouble.

Emiliana and María gladly accepted my order at their diner, dishing up a burger and fries.
"So, what's the info on you and Cecil?" María asked once her mother was out of sight.
"Nothing you should be concerned of. You're the ringleader of the rumors in this town." I said, plopping a fry into my mouth. She pouted, sliding into the booth despite how busy it was.
"I promise not to tell."
"We're friends. That's all." I lied through my teeth. She looked unconvinced, cocking one of her thick brows.
"Damn. You got my hopes up and everything." She sighed, standing up and going to seat a family before taking the orders of five tables. She had writing on her arm of where they all went. I heard Emiliana scolding her in the kitchen, talking about ink poisoning. I chuckled through my food at that. This was a family establishment, the two of them living on the second floor of the diner. I listened to the conversations of those around me.

Already the town was speaking of the three people found dead in the hotel, murdered by a woman who then killed herself.

News seemed to travel fast in San Diego.

"I think it's suspicious." One said to his friends.

"No, it's pretty believable to me. They didn't find any fingerprints on the gun but the woman's."

I stared blankly at my half empty plate of food. Suddenly, my appetite was gone.
"I'm leaving Emiliana." I said, leaning through the door of the kitchen. She glanced up, greasy hands on her apron.
"Alright, dear, make sure to leave the money with María. Don't get into too much trouble."

"I never do."

"Suuree you don't." She smiled lopsidedly as I left, ten dollars in hand to give to the poor single waitress, who was currently running around in confusion. The people whispered my name behind me. I met their curious gazes, eyes hard. I scared them without noticing. I had thought they were mentioning me in the conversation of the murder. They were merely murmuring about my strange appearance at the diner. One had mentioned Cecil. The third had pointed out my coffee shop being near. Of course that was before I accidentally scared them shitless.

Cecil had decided to spend the rest of the afternoon and night (although I didn't respond on my job) trying to figure out what caused my injuries.

His guesses were ridiculous, but I denied them all.

Anything to keep his suspicions away.