During one sleepless night, Kifeda sat at his desk at home, reflecting on how things were going for him in his new home. Strangely, at the same time, things were both better and worse than he expected. On one hand, he really only went three places: home, next door, and work. Despite his time here, he still hardly knew his own neighborhood. On the other hand, he had a job, a friend (his supervisor and neighbor, but it counted, right?), and...and… Well, he had a job.

Did it really count as progress? Would his sisters be disappointed? At least there was that, in terms of progress. Lately, he proved how much more skillful he was in dodging their persistent calls. Texts and emails, he answered promptly and with well-crafted replies, but he was conveniently busy every time he was asked to FaceTime or even just voice call. On one occasion, he even enlisted Khalfani’s help, asking him to call out from a separate room to make it seem like some important breakthrough was about to happen. After every dodge, though, he felt the threat of one of them showing up unannounced looming over him and getting that much closer to realization. Lying awake and imagining the worst did no good, so Kifeda soon found himself in front of his personal computer again.

Visiting the same sites every time would result in burn out, meaning that tonight he needed to try and discover some new places to occupy his time. There were probably chat rooms or forums for people adapting to life in a new pride, right? One of them could give him some ideas for how to naturally find the courage to branch out. Now that Kifeda had an objective, he got to work searching.

Site to site, he moved. Some had out-dated posts that were not helpful, some had advice for people who were already naturally outgoing, and then he found one that sounded a little...troubling. Curiosity beat out the thought that this would only waste his time and soon he was scrolling through the latest posts. One from a couple days earlier caught his eye.

[[Yeah. Been arrested here too much, so I think moving’s a good idea. I never should have dated a cop’s kid. Now the guy finds any reason to accuse me of a crime. Shitbag. At least I don’t live outside the Pridelands. My cousin sent me this video the other day and I was like wtf?? DM if you wanna see. I’d probably be hunted down if I posted it in the open here.]]

Thought after thought fired through Kifeda’s mind as he folded a fist into his other hand and brought them to his lips. It did not sound like a trap. Sometimes bots used similar tactics to get nosy people to click links by making it seem like they are actually talking to a person, but this did not carry the usual signs of such a scam. Unfolding his hands, he rhythmically tapped the keyboard, still debating his next move. If this was real, and this person really was afraid of the wrong people seeing this video, Kifeda would have to prove he did not pose any threat. That was a nonissue. Over text, he was well-versed in conforming his personality to fit his environment.

No second-guessing. Diving straight in, Kifeda made an account and filled it with every necessary piece of information to make him appear as innocuous as possible. Then he started randomly replying and posting in various parts of the sight to build the character he needed. Contacting the poster only moments after joining the site would be suspicious, so there would need to be a window of time before that happened. After the number of weeks with no results in their investigation, what were a few more days?

***

Khalfani leaned over Kifeda’s station, one hand on the back of Kifeda’s chair to steady himself. The first few times Khalfani did this, it tensed Kifeda’s entire body, leaving him feeling like prey that narrowly escaped with its life. Now, however, he was used to the gesture. Khalfani was no threat. He provided more of a sense of protection.

“How’s it going?” Khalfani asked, his eyes scanning the screen.

Kifeda sighed, nervous energy coursing through his veins.

“I sent the first message a couple hours ago and we’ve been chatting since. I don’t get the sense he’s distrustful of me, though. I think he’s just taking long to cover his bases. I should have the link soon.” Anxious, Kifeda looked up to meet Khalfani’s eyes. “You haven’t said anything to the Princess, yet, right?”

“I’m not any less keen than you are to avoid getting her hopes up. Not that I don’t have faith in you. But if the video doesn’t tell us anything, I’d hate to see the disappointment in her eyes. She’s got enough going on as it is.”

Kifeda’s eyes turned downcast in sympathy. “First her dad. Now her adviser.”

“Rafiki and the King will be fine. Look. You have a message.”

Both men’s eyes glued to the screen while Kifeda typed. As minutes passed, they each drew closer until their faces were side by side and mere inches from the computer. And then it finally happened. Kifeda had a download link for a video taken by a member of the Outlands.

As soon as the video began playing, the rest of the team left their stations and crowded around the two. How could they not after hearing Zira’s voice booming from the speakers despite how low Kifeda’s volume was set?

On a platform in the middle of a dimly lit room, Zira stood above the crowd and orated. The video began mid-sentence.

“...weak they are now? Have you seen the effect our operation has had on them? Their king is locked away in a hospital! Their queen is too distraught to rule! Their failure of a princess is /scraping the barrel/ for ideas to keep the masses distracted from the truth! But we are not so easily swayed. We know what’s really happening. They’re crumbling. Breaking. /Weakening/. Soon enough, it will be time for us to attack again! Don’t miss out on your chance to be apart of their downfall! Join me! Paint yourselves in their blood!”

An excited voice in the crowd shouted, “How did you do it, Zira? How did you get him?”

“Easy,” she answered, her sudden calm weighing on the room, bringing a hush over the crowd. “They are not as clever as they like to think. There are holes in their security. Flaws everywhere. All we had to do was find the right one and just like that we had our hands on their schedule. Then it was just a matter of finding the right people for the job. Our numbers weren’t what they needed to be for our own to pull it off.” Her energy amped up again quickly. “Which is why we need you now! Let it be our own hands that take back the Pridelands!”

The video ended as soon as the crowd roared with cheers.

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Khalfani’s rumbling voice broke it.

“I want every one of you to analyze the faces we can make out in the crowd. Try to find if any of them might have more information out there on the internet. Go!”

Though Khalfani gave the order to move, he was the only one who stayed in place there by Kifeda.

“At least we know for sure now,” Kifeda offered innocently.

“It wasn’t her.”

The words were not what shocked Kifeda, but Khalfani’s certainty. He pointed to a specific time in the video.

“Bring it back there. And lower the volume. Watch.” Kifeda followed through and Khalfani explained while the clip played. “Her face when the question is asked. You’d expect pride, wouldn’t you? Arrogance? She looks angry. If the ambush was her plan, she would want to brag. That’s how Zira is. But she’s not bragging. She’s guessing. This is what she /thinks/ led to the attack. They’re taking credit for someone else’s move.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Khalfani stepped back and stood tall.

“This is still valuable to us regardless. Zira isn’t confident in her people.” Clapping his hand down on Kifeda’s shoulder, Khalfani shed the tension in him and smiled warmly as he said, “You’ve done a great job. We’re lucky to have you. Let’s get a concise report together and make an appointment with the Princess.”

As much as he retained his passion for his job, it was the indirect influences and restrictions which took their toll. For one, this force would not have been put to use so soon if it were not for the attack on the Royal Family; a thought which returned whenever they followed a thread that seemed promising, but ultimately led nowhere. The pressure weighed heavier each time, feeding his frustrations; the worst of which came from his lack of personal input in an intellectual setting.

Khalfani was by no means a fool, but that was not enough to make him useful on this side of things. At this point, there was no need to physically make any moves. Every bit of intelligence they needed in order to know where they should go had to first come from the work done by their technically-inclined members. Accepting this truth and being comfortable with it, though, could not be more vastly different. For that reason, every so often the urge to move would overcome him and Khalfani would leave the room until he could rein himself in. Generally, he would return in good time, but every so often someone had to go fetch him. On such occasions, the rest of the team would volunteer Kifeda. Ever since they found out the two were neighbors, they came to the unspoken agreement it was simply easier that way.

Today was one such day where Khalfani lost track of time. It happened so close to the close of the day, though, that even Kifeda forgot until everyone else had gone home and he was the last one. He was never the last one. Every day, without fail, Khalfani was last to leave. His not being there meant he was still off on his own somewhere else in the building. In an attempt to be considerate, Kifeda took it upon himself to gather Khalfani’s things with his own and bring them to him.

When he finally found the other man, Kifeda was disappointed to see him brooding alone in a room lit only by the setting sun. Sat atop the round table therein, Khalfani stared out the window, deep in thought. The first few times Kifeda found him like this, he hesitated for fear of upsetting Khalfani by disturbing his meditation. By this point, however, he no longer concerned himself with such qualms. Rapping on the open door, he waited for his neighbor to notice before stepping inside.

As soon as Khalfani snapped out of his trance, he jumped down and offered an apologetic smile.

“I take too long again? My bad.”

Kifeda shrugged as convincingly as he could. “It wasn’t actually that bad this time. But the usual hours are over, so everyone’s gone home.”

With the mention of home, Khalfani realizes Kifeda is carrying more than his own belongings. Thanking him, Khalfani removes the burden of his things and shoulders them.

“Are you staying a little longer today, too?” Kifeda asked quietly.

Honestly, that was the plan. Even though it would do no real good, Khalfani hated the idea of going home to more silence. But the look on Kifeda’s face pricked his heart with guilt. His behavior did not affect only himself. If he was not mindful, his team would lose confidence in him and, worst of all, Kiara, too. The young queen-to-be already had so much on her plate. She did not need one of her strongest and most loyal allies causing unrest with his faltering.

“Nah, I’m heading home. You want a ride? You take the bus, right?”

“I do, but… Yeah! Sure. You don’t mind?”