As the melodic ringing of a concert carillon, hummed gently through the apartment, the lone occupant had already been awake for the ten minutes all according to routine as always. The alarm as it was kept out of regularity, the same procession it had been since Satoru was just a boy, it reminded him of the reasons he woke up in the morning. Soon his morning routine had begun and he went through his motions like an old Sensei going through his kata: methodically, with the actions being performed coming naturally and fluently as water runs down a stream. He walked a few paces from his bed over to the corner of his bedroom, were a heavy bag and speed bag were connected on a stand. He started off slow letting his whole body feel the impact of each punch and the resistance applied against it before he began to pick up pace. 

Satoru was a man that believed in the essentially of routines. This was an ideal passed on to him by his father and his grandfather before him. This progress to the point where his father had told him a story of his great great great grandfather a man that severed The Imperial Japanese Army during the Second World War, that had everyday even when American G.I.s stormed the beaches, followed his routine of his morning prayer everyday. He was shot by a sniper during his ascent to the top of the hill where he would pray.. so in the end he was the perfect example of a Matsushita man that brought honor to his family; living and dying by his routine. Soon after he was done was the bags, he progressed into his crunches and push ups. This time taking about an hour of his time in the morning hours, before he either ended up going to work or the university. 

[I]But today was different[/I] He thought to himself as he arose from his floor and made his way towards his bathroom. His apartment was a small two room located small high tech development about five or so years old, three floors and generally consisting of wealthy salarymen and the occasional recluse, it was conveniently located about halfway between HQ and the University ,it was affordable and it catered to his minimalist appeal beside his bed, shower, common kitchen accommodates and a small television set there was nothing else. But Satoru was right today was different. Today he had plans to go to the small gathering Soshi-san had planned. Satoru had work to do with his final project looming ever closer, but he would make the sacrifice for his friends. They all had been bogged down lately by the influx of attacks, and a little chance for them to take a little breather would be good. 

The young man sighed as he stripped out of his clothes now coated in a thin lining of sweat, as he did he spoke in the firm authoritative tone, one usually restricts use to that of talking to technology. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IafnG-A5mU]"Play, The Way To Play, Evans, Bill, from the top please."[/url] He heard a small hum in recognition as the voice sensors built into the walls of his apartment recognized the command. Almost instantaneously the hum of twentieth century jazz, and the swing of a piano began. As he applied his deep facial cleanser, he thought about his winter break, a time he thought he could spend some time relaxing maybe catching up on the occasional book he meant to read but never got around to and the like, maybe go with his parents to Matsumoto to see his grandmother and the rest of his extended family. Of course though this was not the case, the devil doesn't sleep and neither does the hackers it would seem. His family didn't mind that much, even if that bothered him a little bit in itself. They knew that he had a busy job, doing some contracting job for the government so they knew that when duty called you answered it and asked it for whatever help it desires.

He got out of the shower 24 minutes later, and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked over to his mirror. He pressed his fingers against the mirror and interior LEDs glowed as the glass seemingly magically split into two close up views of either side of his face, so close one could see the follicles of each strand of early morning scruff. Taking the straight razor and the shaving cream, that he kept on the sink counter, he went to work. As he did he thought about the strangeness of it all, how in the few short handful of years he had been working as a Corrector it had already felt like an eternity. Watching everyday the world being so close to societal collapse and everyday catching it before it falls. The scary fact of it all being they only need to slip up once for Humpty Dumpty to fall off his wall. Everyday people died all over the world, just because a Corrector somewhere let something slip through the cracks, that person that dies could be another Corrector, a kid, a mother, father, somebody, anybody. But in the calculus of war, casualties are to be expected. 

He finished up the bathroom freshly clean shaven, as he left the room the door slid shut behind him. As he pulled out his clothes to wear for the day, Bill Evans continued to play in the background. Jazz made sense to Satoru, it was at the heart moving along the same beat of the world. It moved along the rhythm of ordered chaos, and ordered chaos.. wasn't that the best way to describe life itself? He looked at his reflection, a young man dressed in a white tee-shirt with a black jacket over it, wearing a pair of dark colored jeans, and a worn in pair of running sneakers. Average and meant for practicability just as he liked it. He progressed into the living room/ kitchen/ entrance/ dining area/ what ever else you really wanted to cal it area. He walked over to the small marble counter, atop of it sat a small blender and next to it a large bowl of fruits. As he weighed a apple in one hand, he tapped something into the holographic display on the countertop, and the T.V across the room from him snapped to life. 

As the T.V came on, the sounds of Bill Evans faded away automatically, as the morning news audio fed itself directly into Satoru's head. The same women, in the same casual business attire with the same red shade of lipstick, and her same co-anchor a middle age man with hints and streaks of grey in his hair, and the muscular build that was well highlighted through the tailoring of his suit. The women was talking about the recent announcement made by the Minister of Defense, stating for his continuing plans of modernizing the security of the Japanese people and their government to allow for greater protection in this new age of cyber terrorism.

[I] Cyber terrorism, hackers.[/I] It seemed that these words and the whispers of threats that circle these enigmatic phantoms follow him wherever he seems to go. It was the common focus of governments worldwide, with internal struggles and international warfare being replaced with broken firewalls, and back door entrances. Evidently even so when that time came for Satoru to hang up his corrector identity and assume a normal life, these words would still end up haunting him. Even his final project to graduate from University, working with the Tokyo Metropolis Local Gov in updating the security camera feeds on Rainbow Bridge. Officially it's to ease pedestrian marking crash dedication, and suicide prevention systems. In reality it was to make the scanners more effective at finding illegal MChips and unmarked figures within the Gvn's database.He supposed it was a fact of life he was to just get used to, to keep the peace and to keep order, once must always be prepared. As he finished these thoughts he placed his selected fruits in the blender and began to let them pulse.

Sometime later it was time for Satoru, to leave to head to the gathering. He pressed a button on his phone and the lights in his apartment turned off and the window he had left cracked upon in the bathroom shut itself and then proceed to lock back into place. He nodded in approval and grabbed the bottle of whiskey he left in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and grabbed it before heading out the door. He went down three flights of stairs to the street below, and hooked up to a bike rack, lay hitched in just where he had left it the night before, untouched. As he approached the sensor within the locking mechanism sensed his phone and automatically unlocked its self. Satoru got onto the back and grabbed the small helmet attached to the rear of his seat, bringing it down onto his head, a small visor from hidden within clicked down over his eyes. Soon a wide array of information was being told to him: Compass direction, current location, heart rate, tire condition, proper seat elevation, the works. An indicator in the bottom right hand corner clicked on signalling that his phone had hooked up to the helmet automatically. He pressed a button on his phone and in moments directions following the quickest route to Soshi's apartment was plotted, a small thing green line appearing on the road in front of him. He kicked up his kick stand and began peddling and he was off. 

Some time later, he arrived at the large tower like apartment complex that Soshi's apartment lay within. He parked his bike outside on another almost identical looking bike stand from the one outside his apartment, the steel lock closing in as soon as the rider put it into place. He ran his head through his hair now coated in a faint shining of mist as he walked up to the entrance to the complex. He pressed his phone against the small scanner and a small chirp of approval was heard as the doors opened, the scanner reading Soshi's codes that he programmed into his phone. He walked across the lobby his damp footsteps echoing across the empty space, the only other occupant being the doorman lounging in his chair at one end of the lobby, his phone in his hands not even bothering to look up at Satoru. Satoru walked up to the elevator hit the call button and waited until he heard a hum as the elevator reached the ground floor and its doors open. Two well dressed salarymen in polite conversation with one another walked out as Satoru entered the elevator.

He pressed the button for the sixtieth floor and waited as it slowly began to rise. One side of the elevator was made of glass and one could if they choose look out onto the city of Tokyo below as they ascended into the heavens. It was all a little too posh and extravagant for Satoru's taste, and he felt almost out of place in his standard street clothes holding a plastic liquor store bag with a bottle of the strongest cheap american whiskey he could get his hands on. He was like a rat entering the kitchen of a five star restaurant. Though this rat could not argue with one thing and that was that Soshi's place had one hell of a view. He waited stepping from one foot to another, occasionally checking down at his phone as the elevator made its ascent slowly up the last twenty stories. The city of Tokyo now a grey mist of light and activity far below. The doors opened and he made his way through the halls towards Soshi's apartment, once again lifting his phone up, to allow the door to open for him.

And within thirty seconds of him getting into the Apartment and halfway through his hello, he was seemingly attacked by a very hyper active 24 year old, who ever though she was three years older than him, he still felt like he was dealing with a younger sister or cousin at times. He took the embrace as best as he could, not letting the whiskey bottle drop out of his hands. He smiled and shook his head with a short chuckle as Mima declared that she had brought cookies. 

"Well Mima, I alas sadly did not bring cookies.Though I suppose you could say I brought something to satisfying a different kind of sweet tooth." He explained shaking the contents of the bottle as he step further into the apartment, and peered into the room towards were Soshi was sitting down on one of his couches, he moved towards the couches, sitting down and passing his party favor over with a smile. 

"It would seem, that Mima has beat me here, and won the early bird catches the worm award. And how are you today Mr. Everything the light touches is Soshi's kingdom? On this gloomy day?"