For as long as I'd known them, my parents disliked hospitals. Indeed, in one of her rare bits of mother-to-son advice, Lady El-Melloi had grabbed my shoulders and told me the following:
If you're ever seriously injured near a hospital, don't let them sedate you. Do you hear me, Meriwether? Don't.
Looking back on it now, this might have contributed to my childhood fear of nurses.
At first glance, I had to admit that this particular hospital's entrance area resembled a park more than an opium den. The courtyard was rather quiet. A bird chirped here and there. Clipped hedges bordering the sidewalks provided passageways for the wind to carry the smell of mowed grass.
Even in midday, the trees shaded us. Their branches hung over the white picket fence around the periphery. When taken as a whole, the gardeners had created the illusion of a separate little world. An arboreal reality marble.
In my parents' defense, some other magi with healing abilities share their antipathy to hospitals. And I didn't know at the time about my father's frantic search through Fuyuki's General Hospital for the woman he would later marry.
This particular building also housed a patient whose visitor might prove dangerous.
I felt a tug at my sleeve.
"Anything wrong?" she said.
"Certainly not."
Benitsubasa rolled her eyes and tugged again, more insistently.
"Then why do you look so tense?" she said.
"Why have you become so grabby of late?"
She scowled and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest.
"We are technically mated, y'know," she said.
Ah, yes. That again.
The incident with Yashima and her Ashikabi had impressed upon me just how vulnerable these Sekirei were. If her Ashikabi died, a Sekirei deactivated. If her Ashikabi chose to hit her, MBI's medical "adjustments" reduced a Sekirei's ability to retaliate. Not to mention that a Sekirei's compulsion to protect her Ashikabi rose to the level of a mental disability.
Worse, once somebody "winged" her, a Sekirei could only reproduce with that person. It was a major vulnerability for a species with only 108 members.
...So I suppose I could understand why Sekirei claimed to "love" their Ashikabis. Nonsense, of course: any magus worth his salt could see through the deception in an instant. But if a Sekirei's Ashikabi believed it, he might be inclined to treat his Sekirei better. And perhaps copulate with her frequently enough to perpetuate the species.
In my case, this was unnecessary. Benitsubasa had already proved an invaluable ally in the Sekirei Plan (albeit an uncooperative housemaid). More than that, she would provide useful data for my research once the Plan concluded. If she was that concerned about her species' reproductive future, I would be more than happy to use her DNA for cloning experiments.
For some reason, I'd also developed a certain...tolerance for the creature. Hardly the attitude for a dispassionate researcher, but there it was. I'd long ago abandoned my plans for dissection, for instance.
At first, I had tried to convey to Benitsubasa just how unnecessary her charade was. My explanation only seemed to annoy her - a reaction I attributed to her distrust of me in general. I would have been similarly suspicious in her position.
...Or maybe she was using her professed "love" as an excuse to keep a closer eye on me? After my revelations about magecraft had worn off, Benitsubasa had given me a long lecture about going out without her. Again, though, I didn't blame her. If I died, she deactivated.
And so, whatever the reason, the romantic had nonsense continued.
On the bright side, Benitsubasa had surprised me. I'd worried initially that she would break down once I revealed the existence of magecraft. She had been rather quiet at first. Before long, though, she'd started asking questions. I'd soon learned that I only needed to explain a concept once before she grasped its tactical implications.
"So your familiars tracked her here?"
Like now, for instance.
"That's correct."
"And you're sure that the patient in this hospital is this Sekirei's Ashikabi?" she said. "Most Sekirei are heterosexual."
"If it's not her Ashikabi, then this particular Sekirei needs a long lecture about proper versus improper touching."
Benitsubasa raised an eyebrow.
"...O-kay then. I'll take that as a yes."
We entered the double doors.
A quick bit of hypnosis convinced the nurse on duty to let us visit our targets. Note the plural. I'd chosen my time carefully; the Sekirei visited her Ashikabi on a regular schedule. Both would be there.
We arrived three flights of steps later.
I reached for the knob, and blinked when Benitsubasa's hand shot out and grabbed mine. A wave of annoyance washed over me. Her grip softened, though, and she pulled my hand away gently, positioning her body between me and the doorway.
"We've been over this," she said. "I'm going first."
I rolled my eyes, but nodded. She turned the knob.
The room was unremarkable. A turquoise couch with three rubber cushions was lodged against the right wall. A dress lay on it. The design was unusual - it looked a bit like a Swiss alpine dress, but not of the traditional sort. Imagine something worn by a sexually deviant fugitive from Heidi and you might get a good approximation.
The walls themselves were a light purplish gray. When combined with the painting of almost-white-but-still-slightly-pink lilies on the wall, the color scheme gave a bleached impression. Sanitary, but lifeless. A trio of stuffed animals by the bedside - a rabbit, a penguin, and what looked like a mouse - provided the only other slice of character.
The room's occupants were another matter. The Ashikabi was thin to the point of emaciation, with hair like straw and pink pajamas. She was leaning against the bed's backboard (actually little more than a cheap metal frame). Her breaths were quick and shallow. Her eyes, already large, had widened like saucers when she saw us.
The Sekirei's face was slightly harder to make out, since she was wrapped in strips of white cloth. They twined and writhed around her like living creatures. Most of them seemed aimed (to the extent that one can 'aim' fabric) at my head.
Like most of her kind, this Sekirei also seemed unusually well-endowed, which must have been a hindrance in combat. I mention it primarily because Benitsubasa pointed out this defect to me afterwards. Repeatedly. (I admired Benitsubasa's practical outlook on the subject, but she seemed oddly passionate about it.)
"Dreary place," I said.
The Sekirei locked eyes with Benitsubasa.
"What does the Disciplinary Squad want here?" she said.
Benitsubasa grinned.
"Oh, hadn't you heard?" she said. "I'm a free agent now."
The veiled Sekirei looked me up and down, paying particular attention to my robe. I wondered if she could sense the enchantments on it.
"So is this Neo impersonator your Ashikabi?"
Benitsubasa cracked her knuckles.
"Why?" she said. "Are you looking for somebody to go Matrix on your ass? Because I'd be glad to ob-"
"Who's this 'Neo' person?" I said.
Benitsubasa's glare swung toward me.
"Meriwether, you're not helping," she growled.
"Wait, wait wait...Your Ashikabi is a Matrix cosplayer named Meriwether?"
Realizing that the conversation was rapidly spinning out of control, I decided to change tack.
"Uzume," I said.
The Sekirei froze. Her bolts of fabric swiveled toward me again.
"You and I both know that you're not going to attack me with your Ashikabi in the bed next to you," I said. "You also know that I could have killed her at any time I wished. I still could."
"Touch her and you die," the Sekirei - Uzume - hissed.
I smirked and nodded toward the girl on the bed.
"Chiho, isn't it?" I said. "How unfortunate that you have an incurable disease. I wonder who's paying your medical bills, hmm...? Must be expensive."
The girl shuddered. Uzume was shaking, though with rage or fear I wasn't sure. I cleared my throat.
"Lower your weapons, and we'll discuss my proposal like civilized people," I said.
Uzume's eyes narrowed further.
"Your proposal?" she said.
I held out my hand and ahem'ed. Benitsubasa did nothing. I snapped my fingers a few times. She gave me a dirty look, but didn't do anything else.
I ahem'ed a second time.
"Oh for the love of...The suitcase is right in front of you!" Benitsubasa snapped.
I ahem'ed a third time.
Finally, Benitsubasa sighed and opened my suitcase. She presented me with a parchment scroll, though I noted sourly that she did it without much ceremony. I unraveled it with a fwop and tossed it to Uzume. She should have counted herself fortunate: I'd even written it in Japanese for the occasion.
She glanced at it, although her fabric streamers kept twitching in my direction.
"First Party, hereafter 'Uzume' (undersigned), agrees and affirms to provide all services necessary to assist Second Party, hereafter Meriwether Archibald El-Melloi (undersigned), to win the Sekirei Plan for him, and..."
Uzume stopped reading and looked up.
"You're joking," she said.
"Why do people always say that when they hear my name?" I said. "It's not that strange. Look at a Shin Tokyo phone book sometime: Toyota! Kawasaki! Honda! You people name yourselves after automobile companies!"
Both Uzume and Chiho stared at me for several seconds. Benitsubasa mouthed something that looked like, 'You're on your own here.'
Uzume broke the silence.
"Uh...first off, there's so much wrong with that statement that I'm not even getting near it. Second, I was referring to the contract. Why would I give up the chance to win the Sekirei Plan and be with my Ashikabi? How stupid would I have to be to-"
"I can cure her."
Uzume snorted.
"Yeah. Right. And I can double your money if you just invest in some Mouse Road all-natural detergents."
I held out my hand and chanted the appropriate Aria. Fortunately, Uzume probably didn't speak English. William McGonagall's Victorian doggerel lacked a certain gravitas for intimidation purposes:
'Twas all on a sudden the storm did arise
Which took the captain and passengers all by surprise
Because they had just sat down to their tea
When the ship began to roll with the heaving of the sea
Benitsubasa winced. I made a mental note to explain later that it wasn't my poetry.
Water collected from the atmosphere and swirled into a hollow sphere three feet wide. Streamers orbited in midair like a planet's rings.
"Kewdh. Kewdh. Kewdh. Kewdh.
Four times conceal."
The tower of water vanished. I glanced at my audience. Chiho was shaking. Even under her veil, I noted that Uzume's eyes had widened. One of her fabric bolts tentatively prodded the place where the water had been. She yanked it back quickly with a gasp. Water dripped from its tip.
"It's...it's still there," she said. "We just can't see it..."
"Have I made my point?" I said. "You've probably realized by now that the scroll in your hands isn't an ordinary contract. Here's the deal: your services for Chiho's recovery. I reserve the right to block out her memories of this incident, though."
And then, for the first time in this conversation, Chiho showed a backbone. At a very inconvenient time.
"No!" Chiho shouted. "I won't allow this. I don't know who or what you are, but...But you're not getting your hands on Uzume! I won't let you get her killed! There has to be another way. There has to-"
"Do we have a deal...Uzume?"
I smiled and waited. The Sekirei's suicidal compulsion to protect her Ashikabi would do the rest of the work. It didn't take long.
Uzume's shoulders slumped.
"I'll do it," she said.
She took the pen. I heard it scratch the parchment, and felt the burst of prana as the spell took hold.
A pained noise came from Chiho. Bizarre though it sounds, she actually had tears in her eyes. And this despite the fact that I'd just offered to save her in return for a Sekirei that she didn't intend to use in combat anyway. Her hospital bills alone must have been astronomical.
But instead of the expected 'thank you', Chiho came out with the following:
"I won't let you!" she said. "If you don't heal me, you won't get Uzume's help. That's how it works, right? I'll refuse treatment."
For the second time this afternoon, I rolled my eyes.
"Uzume, if you please?"
The Sekirei in question was staring at the floor with a blank expression on her face. I snapped my fingers in front of her nose. She inhaled sharply and glared.
"What?"
"Hold her down," I said. "I don't fancy getting my fingers bitten."
Chiho's eyes had become wet and puffy by this time. It was very undignified.
"I'm sorry, Chiho," Uzume whispered.
Uzume's veils wrapped her Azhikabi's arms, legs, and head gently. Whenever Chiho struggled, the fabric tightened just enough to contain her movements. They softened immediately when the struggling stopped.
I placed my hand on Chiho's forehead and chanted the necessary Aria. I'd prepared some of the spell before I left, but the remaining details still took a few minutes to finish.
Nothing happened for a moment, and then light started to shine from the inside of Chiho's torso. She squealed. Her legs stiffened and bucked as if he was going into a spasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head. A stream of drool dripped down her chin. I kept chanting.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO-?"
Uzume's question ended unfinished. The light dimmed, flickered, and faded. Chiho sagged. Her head lolled to one side. Her gasps slowed down until I could barely hear her breathing. I quickly muttered a memory modification as a chaser.
I removed my gloves and looked around. Uzume sagged back into a chair. The veils sank around her like a shawl.
"She...she's cured, right?" she said. "I mean, that's-"
"Do you have a wastebasket?"
"Wh...what?"
I held the gloves as far away from my suit as I could.
"A waste-bas-ket," I repeated slowly. "I'm not in the habit of keeping articles of clothing that people have slobbered on."
Uzume's voice rose.
"Excuse me, I asked you whether-"
"She's cured," I said. "Ask the ignoramuses who work here if you don't believe me. So... Wastebasket. Now."
"Find it yourself."
I mumbled something under my breath and turned to my Sekirei.
"Benitsubasa, kindly go-"
"Not a chance."
After I found the wastebasket, Benitsubasa and I waited around in another part of the hospital while the staff performed the necessary tests. Fortunately, one of us had thought far enough ahead to bring reading material. Not that I intended to share.
I thumbed through my pocket edition of Abelard's Sic et Non while Benitsubasa whined about a copy of Pygmalion that she would have remembered to bring along if it hadn't mysteriously vanished. The intricacies of Scholastic philosophy distracted me from the hospital's interminable beeps and squeaking cart wheels until Uzume finally reappeared.
"Satisfied?" I said.
She'd changed into tight jeans, sandals, and a pink shirt with a yellow star that obnoxiously highlighted her overgrown chest. She didn't seem to have considered how this lewd display reflected upon her Ashikabi, which struck me as rather inconsiderate.
I was rapidly learning that Benitsubasa's nudity taboos, while they left much to be desired, hovered nearer the 'prudish' end of her species. A fact for which I was thankful.
"She won't remember this?" Uzume said.
"I've blanked it out," I said. "The rest of her memories are intact, of course. She knows nothing about our arrangement."
"...As long as you stick to your end of the bargain," Benitsubasa added with a nasty smile.
I tapped the scroll.
"Oh, she will," I said.
As we stood up to leave, I leaned next to Uzume's ear.
"You're mine now, Sekirei," I whispered.
Uzume tensed as if I'd dropped a black widow down her dress.
"And he means that in a completely non-sexual way," Benitsubasa said. "Believe me."
I thought I detected a note of grumbling in her tone, but decided not to press the issue. Finally, realizing that Benitsubasa didn't intend to hold the door open for me, I sighed and opened it myself.
"Meriwether."
I turned.
"Eh?"
Uzume slapped me across the face. I had no time for reinforcement. In retrospect, I was fortunate that she'd decided not to rip my head off.
The effect on Benitsubasa was immediate. I only realized that she had moved two seconds later, when I found myself lying on the grass. She'd pushed me out of the way. Uzume was smirking at her, though the effect was slightly marred by Benitsubasa holding Uzume a foot off the ground by her throat. Her voice came out as a rasp.
"You sure you want to get into this now?" Uzume said. "I dunno...it might screw with your Ashikabi's plans if you kill me. Or...try to kill me."
Benitsubasa wore an expression I hadn't seen before. Her killing intent, on the other hand, I recognized immediately. Felt immediately. Something similar had hung like a shroud over Kiritsugu Emiya on his rare visits to our estate.
"Benitsubasa," I said.
"WHAT?"
"Let her down."
"But-"
"Am I your Ashikabi?"
"Yeah, which is exactly why I don't intend to let this pass."
An amusing thought struck me.
"Am I your mate?"
"Yeah, but you-Wait, what? Um...yeah...I guess you are..."
"Let her down."
My joke seemed to have its effect. Benitsubasa's fingers loosened. Uzume dropped.
"Do that again and I kill Chiho," Benitsubasa said.
She turned on her heel before Uzume could answer. Perhaps wisely, Uzume did not try to retaliate.
Benitsubasa and I passed through the remainder of the hospital garden in silence. I suppose the prospect of Uzume harming me - and thereby deactivating Benitsubasa - must have rattled Benitsubasa more than I'd expected.
I rubbed my cheek. It would probably bruise.
"You know, it's amusing..." I said.
"What?"
"Uzume gave up her freedom for nothing."
Benitsubasa huffed.
"Idiot."
"Excuse me?"
"She saved her Ashikabi's life."
I shrugged.
"I'm not in the habit of winning tournaments against cripples. Nor do I simply wait around while incompetents in lab coats kill my opponents for me."
Benitsubasa looked at me for an excessive amount of time.
"Wait...you would've helped Chiho anyway?" she said.
"I would have made arrangements for a worthy opponent," I said. "Nothing more."
We walked a while longer. As occasionally happened for no discernible reason, Benitsubasa seemed enthralled by the sight of her own twiddling fingers. She didn't make eye contact.
Finally, though-
"Did...did you mean what you said?"
"About what?" I said.
"About the...you know. The mating...um...thing."
I chuckled. Perhaps she did have a sense of humor after all.
"I thought your little in-joke about mating might snap you out of it," I said.
Benitsubasa delivered her next question through gritted teeth.
"Did you say my...in-joke?"
I cleared my throat.
"Well, yes. You know. 'Love', 'romance', and all that other rot you pretend to feel whenever you want something from me. Unnecessary, of course, as I've already explained to you a thousand times. But you keep talking about it, so I naturally assumed you found it amusing-"
Benitsubasa's handprint on my uninjured cheek didn't improve my appearance much, but I suppose it gave my face a certain symmetry.