Steward Of Paradise At Work

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

I didn't come here to meet shrine maidens or monsters. I didn't come here to erect a cross. No one even told me about magic being a thing here. Actually, I didn't expect myself to be here at all. I was simply chasing a woman who created eye portals. But it beats being a runaway thief. I just wish I knew sooner, that this place will never give me a break, not even God...Bring it on.

18. Came Back Right, Come Out Strong

[Ya sure that was more than 2 liters, Doc?]

[Enough that you don't pass out afterwards, young man.]

[Good 'nough….Thanks again, by the way.]

[Anytime again, Eman. By the way, where you goin' exactly?]

[Well…..I really don't know, it's far from here, like, half a day away. The woman I saw has got to be there again, I know it. I gotta go back there and find out what the hell is going on.]

[I don't know, Eman….is that really worth it? That portal could'a been an illusion, no? You could just be seeing things, the isolation could've gotten to your head.]

[It already had, and what I saw is real. If it wasn't…..well, let's just say it was worth the exercise, and then I'll come back and donate some more. All the adrenaline might fill me up with lotsa good blood for the people, eh!?]

[Hahahahaha, did I ever tell you how much l loved your positivity?]

[You don't have to say it, I know.]

[Well, people oughtta learn from you, boy. No matter what happens, there's hope for everybody down the road. I mean look at you, you're young, you're poor, you don't have a house, you literally live off of bloodletting money, and you're still wearing a smile on your face!]

[Are you trying to make me feel better or are you trying to rub it in?]

[See? Look at that! A smile that knows that there is always good in the midst of things! Why can't people think like you do, seriously!?]

[You know life, Doctor. The world ain't for the weak, people like me either fake the smile or just don't realize that yet.]

[You're neither, Eman.]

[Oh yeah?]

[Hell yeah.]

[…..]

[…...]

[Fine. I'll take it.]

[You bett'a. You've been this clinic's donor for more than a year and I know when to look past that Filipino face of yours.]

[Hahahaha! I thought you'd never mention that!]

[Well, you got your mention, pare! Ahahahahahahaha!]

Doctor Christopher and Patient Eman laughed wholeheartedly, slapping their knees and holding their stomachs, wiping the tear from their eyes. The good doctor's African-American visage slowly turned to a look of melancholy. [It's time for you to go now, huh?]

[Hey,] Eman reached over and patted the adult on the shoulder, [it's not like I'm gone, you know.] He throbbed a thumb to the blood bag, his blood bag held up by the post. [You still got a piece of me here.]

Christopher guffawed once again, throwing his head up and slapping the boy in the shoulder, earning not a flinch from the teen. [Oh boy, you're gonna be runnin' inside people once they come running over here. Inside people's veins, I mean!]

Eman pointed a warning finger towards the adult, [Oh ho ho, that was too close, doc. You almost made it sound like this place was a freakin' sperm bank!]

The good doctor laughed once again, Eman joined in the pleasantries, reveling in possibly their last moment as patient and doctor together. Being alone in his two years of living, the doctor was the closest person he could consider a friend, an authority figure, father even. A moment where he could eat out in a restaurant with him, to visit his house and meet his pregnant wife, a time where they just take a walk and talk about nonsense, cursing all the while, every single instance that he spends with the good doctor was precious to him. Now that there was the certain possibility he could not come back due to the sight of a portal woman on top of a building, he must leave his best regards if this was ever going to be the last time.

[Alright, let's get your cut.]

[I'll wait here.] Eman politely said, remaining seated on his chair while the good doctor went back to his office to pick up the money.

When the door opened again, the good doctor came back with a thick wad of cash in his hand. The sight left Eman wide-eyed for how rich Christopher was, despite expecting it, but why that much when he's just gonna get more than the usual 50 bucks?

[Okay….more than usual….hmm…] Christopher muttered to himself, counting each bill with every flap, making sure to have the exact amount. [Five…..six….seven…..this is gonna take a while.]

Eman looked down in patience in his seat, awaiting the good doctor to finish. Now would be a time to reminisce every memory he had and treasure them all. It was a blessing, all of it were.

[Alright. That's the right amount.] Eman shot his head upwards, excited to have it. [Here you go, just the way you like it.]

He was extending to him the entire wad, not a single bill left in the doctor's hand.

Confused and shocked at the gesture, he timidly took the cash in hand and counted the amount. The closer he was to the last bill of money, his shock multiplied tenfold as well as the amount he found.

[Do-doctor! This is too much!] He looked up to the smiling doctor with shocked eyes and a conflicted look, standing up from his chair in distress, [This is 20,000 dollars! I told you to give me more than the usual!]

[Yes, you did.] The doctor nodded, [That is more than the usual.]

[No, doctor!] He doesn't want it, he doesn't want the excess amount of money that could sustain him for more than a year, but his heart was saying things in the other direction. He wanted to keep it, [I-I can't accept this! This is way too many! I can't! Doesn't this go against your code at all!?]

The good doctor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, smiling still at the quivering and conflicted teen. [This doesn't go against my code. I treat all my patients equally, whether poor or rich, black or white, I'd do anything to save every person that comes to the operating table.]

He looked at the resolved doctor with an incredulous look, he brought the money to his view, [What about this?]

[That ain't on me, boy.] He shook his head, [That's on the people you saved.]

Eman looked at him in shock. The people he saved, what was he talking about? [What?]

Christopher pursed his lips and took a seat in front of the boy, Eman took a seat as well. [Tell me, Eman. Has anyone ever said 'thank you' to you for giving away your blood?]

[Uh-um,] Now where was this coming from? [I don't need thanks. My blood was useful so of course I—]

[Stop, stop.] The doctor held a hand up, [I didn't ask for your opinion, boy. I'm askin' you if you ever heard anybody say 'thank you' for your blood.]

Eman looked on, unmoving, staring at the brown orbs of his doctor. [No. I never did.]

[I knew it.] The doctor muttered, kneading his head with a bothered expression. He leaned back on his chair and interlocked his fingers on his chest, [Some months ago, I had a patient that got into a car-crash. Messed up so good that I even got squeamish just by looking at him, even though I operated on a lot of people before. We made way to remove the shrapnel out of him, we closed his wounds, and fixed him up in the best we could.] He rested his elbow on the nearby table and planted his cheek on his fist. [It was a successful operation. He got a lot of scars on him but he'll live. And then I found out that he got a baby and a housewife who totally depended on him. If he was dead, the wife and the baby will be left alone, and she wouldn't be able to provide for herself. They didn't even got a sitter to watch the baby when she's lookin' for a job.] He shook his head, clicking his tongue. [She was so happy, so happy her hubby lived. She couldn't stop thanking me.]

The good doctor turned to him, a firm grimace lining his expressions, [And then I felt something that I didn't expect to feel when she said the two words 'thank you' over and over again.] He paused, letting the moment drag on. Then he said, [Guilt. I felt guilt, shameful too. Like I didn't deserve it. Even though I saved the guy's life and his family, I still feel like I didn't do enough to deserve a 'thank you'.] Then the doctor raised his finger up, [And that's when I remembered. The guy was bleeding to death. He lost too much blood, and he needs to be transfused as soon as possible.]

Eman sat up straighter, knowing where it was going, conflicted as he drew something he would call a cocky conclusion, [You used my blood.]

[That's right. You wanna know one thing: there wasn't any more A-positives in the fridge, and that's where we found O-negative, your O-negative blood.] The doctor stood up straight, [You are the real hero, Eman. Your blood saved the man from death, you deserve the 'thank you'.]

Eman was now looking down on the money he held, but his mind went elsewhere, rubbing the back of his hands with a thumb. There was an immense burning in his heart, and it was uncomfortable to him. It felt pleasant to him.

He saw a pair of brown-skinned hands grab ahold of his own, cradling them. He looked up and met the good doctor's eyes, [Eman, on the behalf of every patient I saved through your blood and sacrifice, and on the behalf of the next people that's gonna take them: Thank You, Eman.]

The dam held well until he said it, and now the dam overflowed. Eman wept uncontrollably and cried on the good doctor's shoulder, the latter returning a tight and warm hug, packed with all the appreciation his patients had that was rightfully his to take. All the 'thank you's and the appreciations, along with the pay he had from every operation well-done assisted by O-negative blood, he passed them onto Eman.

[God bless you, Eman. God bless you.]

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

…

…..…..…..

Sigh…..…..

[…That day, huh….] Pretty sure I cried a little in my sleep.

That was like the longest sweet dreams I ever had in my life, and near the end I accidently wandered into memory lane where the day I never felt so thanked and emotional happened.

In that part, there were no demons to rape, there weren't any victims either, not even some acceptable targets. All I ever had were metaphorical flowers and sunshine that section of my dreams. I actually found my li'l sis in my dreams, how rare. Fuckin' hell it was so vivid. If I wasn't so adept at lucid dreams, I would'a thought that she was alive and did not pass away.

We talked so much. I told her about my life, all those two years until this day, where I wandered into Wonderland. In my dreams I can always be super-aware that I might end up snapping awake at some point but within that dream it felt like it could last forever. That never happened before, not at all.

When I became aware of that….sexy and kinky shit happened…..nuff said. In a world where you are God, the things you could possibly do in there when you could not in the real world is VAST. I never knew murder and rape done at the same time would be so good.

There were some moments of being consensual. I never knew you'd ask permission before you murder somebody by ripping their intestines out with your bare hands.

To think that my li'l sis was around all that…

When I was carnally satisfied, my sexual urges sated and fed, me and Emmanuella walked hand in hand straight to Memory Lane. Had to admit, very sweet moment in my dreams…..and it was painfully nostalgic. The size of her tiny hand….I used to hold onto it often before and it made me cry. I had the murderous impulse to carry her around like I used to before. I tried not to because seeing her walk was like the happiest moment of my life, but I just couldn't hold it in.

I took her underneath the arms, rested her bum on my forearm and the nostalgia struck me again as I used to walk around like this before with her, a good way to exercise my feet and my arm strength at the same time. After one little kiss to her lips, we continued walking.

And then there was Doctor Christopher.

I brought my hand up close to my face and held it, sighing exasperatedly. [Fuckin' hell…]

I didn't care about other people before. I didn't. I kinda lost that kind of decency. I was slightly misanthropic those last two years, hating everybody I meet for no reason. There were some exceptions. Doc, of course, but I also do not hate the poor on the streets. When I see them, I give them 10 bucks every time. Unlike me, they know how to smile in their desperate moments. I simply frown and find reasons to stay positive, which fails a lot. Lastly, children. I can't hate children. They are immature, ignorant, and unknowing of reality. They are innocent. They don't deserve none of the shit I usually give to people.

I didn't even care about the good my bloodletting brought. I only wanted the money. I needed to fucking live.

Then Doc closed the clinic for the day, took me to a restaurant, treated me a healthy lunch, and told me to enjoy it so my blood will be safe for donations. When the donation was finally done after a week of continuous restaurant treats, he gave me twice the amount of my usual payment.

Fuckin' hell, Doc….

It was at that point I finally began to care, I began to think that there are indeed some good in people, some better than the other. My misanthropic mannerism died out eventually. He started looking out for me, caring for me, and even took me in once winter came….

Sigh….Damn it, Doc, why do you exist in this stupid world….?

I met his wife. Good woman, kinda young, a baby already on the way inside her tum-tum. The first time I saw her, my instinct to care jumpstarted. A pregnant lady needs some help in the house while her man is off to work. Something could happen, you'll never know. If you slip on the floor and hit your head, you'll be okay and shake it off. You can't do that while there is a kid inside you. Mama needs to be okay, so the kid will come out okay. So, I took up the role as her personal housekeeper. Doc didn't complain, Wife kinda had questions but I shot them all down and swore my devotion to keeping her fine and healthy so the baby will have the finest and healthiest mom in the world.

I ignored her every time she tells me to rest up a little. Whenever she called my name, I bolt up to her straight away. Buy some groceries, pay the bills, all of it, I did what she asked. If she felt like going out, I always accompanied her. With a facemask to protect my identity in case somebody was my victim before and recognized me. When she insisted, I let her take up some housework….with my supervision of course. She started calling me a rather overprotective sissy for it and had to shoo me off when she got uncomfortable.

Funny.

If that was Doc's plan to make me stop stealing….it worked. Plus, his backyard is wide enough for me to do some flips and tumbles to keep me in shape. He got a tree too, it was all good. Sweet tall tree…

When I now went away to search for Yukari, when Doc gave me that wad of cash, I was no longer a human-hater. I didn't steal too, didn't even do unprovoked assault as well. I used the money to sustain myself and I only beat the shit out of anybody only out of self-defense.

Glad I came to Gensokyo. I can now practice my desire to start caring for others. Reimu I did first by helping with the chores. I wonder who else will need my help with anything. I guess I could go to the human village and find out once I get a proper residence.

…

…..

We stretch our limbs here…!

[Aaah….I guess we'll get up for now…]

Oh shit, I didn't realize that I was naked till now. I think I might be disrespecting Remilia's house by doing this.

Where the hell are my threads?

"Help! Onee-sama! Patchy! Sakuya!" Flandre screamed as I pulled. My arousal was inching closer and closer to climax. Fucking hell, just listening to her screams is just—

…..…..

…..huh…..…..

[Did that happen?] I don't know, but it was enough to make me frown and start questioning things.

By the way, I'm still naked. Where the hell are my pants?

….by the way, I look white as fuck! Dayum! I could reflect sunlight like this!

Now where the fuck are you, pants?

Ah, there they are. Just resting at the bedroom sofa, shortened down to the knees…having burns on the ends…..?

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, FLANDRE!‼" When I screamed that, my body exploded into fire, a flood of fire, descending on everything like a tsunami, even the ceiling burnt to hell—

….What?

Wait…..wait a minute…I need to think about this…..I'm getting confused here. Some relapses are going on in my head. They're familiar but also foreign. Damn it, I need to calm down.

Come on, Eman. Focus, calm the heart down. You can't think if you're not calm.

I need to…I need to sit down on the bed. Yeah, yeah. Just like this, on the side.

Come on, head, recall. Settle the conflicts in the mind. It feels like I've been missing out on something, and it is something very important that I should recall it as soon as possible.

What the fuck happened before I woke up like this?

Last time, last time…uh…oh yeah, I was fighting Flandre…..then there was Marisa.

Oh yeah, me and Marisa teamed up against Flandre in a spell card fight.

So after that uh….Oh yeah! I discovered my affinity for fire magic!

Lemme try.

Sensation…..then clap the hands.

*Clap. Clap.*

*Whooosh!*

Hihihihihihihihihihi~!‼ Yes~~

Okay, put those out for now. Ya don't wanna burn the bedroom to hell.

Me and Marisa did fight Flandre. I handled most of the melee combat, up close and personal while Marisa did the aerial and ranged combat. Oh yeah, I also did some dancin' on some intervals too. Okay, okay. The gaps in my memory are filling up nicely.

After that, we won by…oh yeah, Marisa kinda blew the entire library to shit. Then we…..

….Marisa died…

…..…..

…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

….…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..wait…..not yet.

Before I burn this place to hell, there are some things that do not add up. Plus, there are still gaps in my memory. I have to continue filling them up, even if the parts are too hazy. Mistakes could be made, something good could've happened…she could've survived it.

She has to. That blonde bitch doesn't go down that easily.

I'll cool down for now. Let the red fire, black smoke, and ash that's spewing out of my body disappear. Let it fade away like it didn't exist seconds ago. The only evidence that I was coming close to literally exploding is the black imprints of my feet I left on the carpeted floors. They're still smoking.

Oh my fuck, I actually burnt quite a little of the bed sheets. The area I'm sitting on had me in the center of a little circle of black, embers still glowing on the edges. I question how they didn't caught on fire considering how boiled I was.

Maid won't love to see this.

…..heh. I don't have to worry. I'll burn the rest afterwards anyway, including its residents…

…..If what I recalled is anything but nice, that is.

Now….allow me to remember everything that happened very carefully.

…..

….fire…..so much fire…..yeah, there was so much fire. I can recall that I had been possessed. Marisa was my opponent that time, she and I fought each other, and my consciousness was too drunk on anger to actually be reasoned by her (not that she bothered to). There was fire when we fought.

But somehow, they didn't add up to this memory. The fires are too different…..

What kind of fire happened?

Recall….recall….…..…..

…..ahh…..yes…..I think it's this….…..…..…..

Because of seeing Marisa dying, it triggered the most violent part of me to come out. The very worst kind. Not only that but it also made the emotion trigger of my pyrokinesis go Hell-like. It was like an entire forest fire's worth of destructive force was coming out of me, and it was all directed towards Flandre.

Yes…..I had killed her. I killed Flandre, but I forced her to come back to life just so I could repeat the battle, just so I could kill her again. I planned to do so again and again and again and again, I wouldn't know when I'll stop. She killed Marisa, she deserves so much for that.

How the fuck did I knew how to create that monster? That…fire golem….I was in the background, watching her try to kill it while I awaited the chance for her to get injured killing it. Once she killed it, I took her by surprise and bit her neck open….just so I could control the fires into getting inside the wound and burn her from within.

How did I do that? That kind of control over fire that was so tight I could direct it like it was a living thing, like it was a part of my body?

Then after coming back to life, she…..she was begging for me to stop…..

Thinking about it ticked me off. Pretty sure my head is already lighting up, I can smell the smoke too.

She killed Marisa, does she really think I'll stop just by her begging?

Ah….Meiling somehow arrived at some point…did something to my neck that I can't remember right but surely it was painful. Painful enough to disable me.

Then because of her interference, I was pissed beyond all imagination. The rage did something to my physical abilities, apparently. I started moving like a ballistic human. I felt fast, swift, unstoppable. I was drunk from the megalomania when I did it. I knocked out Meiling with a single punch to her forehead, and the kid didn't like that.

Me and Flandre ended up getting violent, breaking each other's bones so many times. I obliterated her so many times, and her vampire regeneration was the one thing that saved her.

Kid couldn't stop, all because she kept having her mouth stained by my blood, keeping her energized.

Fucking vampires….

My hand instantly lit up in red flames, clenching tight at the heat. I just couldn't measure how she keeps getting back up to her feet like nothing.

…..then she tore my arm out when she assaulted me by a swarm of bats—

What?

Excuse me, what!?

Was the right ar—no, it was the left arm. Yeah…yeah! It was the left!

But…but….it's still here. Just…..what? What? What's going on?

Hold on, I need to stand up. This shit's not making sense anymore.

Flandre tore my arm off…..and it's still here. How? The memory is solid and real. It is too fresh and recent, like it just happened hours ago.

What the fuck? What the hell is this?

Are you real? You sure you aren't just a hallucination?

…no you are not.

Motherfucking hell, what is going on with my skin? Not just the left arm but all of me.

My arms are smooth, as if fresh from a bath. And they're quite sensitive, the same kind of hypersensitivity you'd feel when your medical cast is taken off, minus the dirt, stink, and the long body hair (I'm completely bare of hair, even down there, except for the head). Everything I touch, even the air feels ticklish and over the top. Face…too easy to tickle. Body too, reacts too easily to any touch. Simply walking is too impossible without me freaking out over the sensations it gets.

This doesn't add up. Not at all!

—wait…

…..my skin was grey and ashed from Marisa's beam…..my hair was also rock-stiff, same kind of hard that you'd feel from a paintbrush that wasn't dipped in thinner after use for a couple days. It came from the fight and ashes that pilfered my head as I burned shit in my possession.

Those clues are vivid, real.

….my hair now isn't so rocky stiff anymore. It's silky smooth, hair-salon smooth. Expensive treatment kind of smooth, fingers slide easily through it.

…..this feels so awfully familiar, all these sensations…where the fuck did I get this before…..?

Damn it, I'm getting fucking frustrated! Fucking…. [Hrrrrgghhh—]

…..…..…..

…..I remember myself growling like that…..and I remember myself being surrounded by burning tentacles made entirely out of magma…Meiling was there.

….I think…..yeah, she was fighting me….I severed her arm at some point—no, torn off. I tore off her arm right out of the socket just by grabbing her punch. My mouth ran when I fought, and my voice didn't feel right. Something's wrong with me.

"Eman, wake up! Marisa's alive! Marisa's alive! She's in the hallway! She got a scar but she's okay!"

…my eyes…I think they're about to cry…why?

…..they're not stopping….what the fuck?

I gotta recall quickly….my mind is now screaming at me to continue. Something important, something extremely important happened afterwards. Remember. Remember!

A knee to Flandre's back. That made her flying off me. Rolling to my front on my one hand and two knees, I growled and—

A colorful laser blasted the space right in front of me, would've turned me into a fucking husk of ash and burning flesh had I not froze in place when I heard the boom.

For some reason, I was shocked and afraid.

"Didn'tcha hear!? I'm still alive! Enough with the temper tantrum already!"

….…..…..

…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..I remember now.

Not just one…but two things….and I felt my mouth curling into the biggest smile…the happiest smile I ever wore in my life.

I saw Marisa in the air on her broom, holding her side, pale but alive. She was pointing her super weapon at me, smoking from the laser she tried to blast me with. She was fucking alive, and Flandre yelled that at my face. After that…..everything else was black…..

Lastly, these sensations of hypersensitivity and super-silky-ladylike hair…..they all felt just like the time I woke up after the day I erected the cross.

I smelt clean, smelling like incense instead rather than the sunshiny scent before. Prolly 'cause I got no clothes but still.

I even lost a fucking ARM, and it's still right here with me!

I was supposed to be a greyed-up white boy from all that ash I created in my fight with Marisa, but no. I'm as clean as a newborn baby.

…

….I think the facts are clear.

….God healed me again…..

…..And Marisa's still alive.

*Inhale….*

{AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—}

FUCK THIS TABLE!‼!

*THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!*

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!

*KBSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!*

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Just one more day.

No, maybe two….or four….or maybe after an entire week she'll get over this.

This moping and all this brooding isn't doing her any good. Marisa knows that, but she couldn't help it. If Flandre couldn't, why can't a human like her? She'll have to wait, wait until the kid wants some alone time. Marisa needs hers too, but she'll let the kid have hers first. For now, she'll have to remain in her company, act as emotional support till then.

Her hand is sweaty, even if her fingers are the ones lying atop Flandre's hand. She sat on the bed against the wall, now clad in her bloomers and camisole, her clothing lying on the floor somewhere. She doesn't remember, she's too depressed to care. She probably had bags under her eyes now, an episode of insomnia along with some silent crying will do that to you. She looked a mess, probably. She unraveled her braid hours ago and her hair was already wild, even before she went to bed.

She sighed. How is she gonna approach this party tomorrow where everybody she knew was there, especially in an emotional state like this? She'd probably drink herself to a coma…definitely she will. She'll have to hide it all in a mask and drown it all in booze. Easiest way out compared to getting over it in time like a normal person.

She looked around the grandiose room once again, sighing over the lack of mirrors. No surprise, considering the mistress. She needed a bath….a long one.

….…..…..

….She'll do that now. The bathroom's just across the room, door left ajar from her recent use on the toilet.

She looked down on Flandre's sleeping face, sighing once again before she rolled up the blanket over the child's shoulders and twisted her body around to the edge of the bed, placing her feet on the warm scarlet carpet.

Just as she was about to pull the camisole over her head, the door to her room was blasted open and a familiar voice that was supposed to be either cheery or lax was screaming in urgency.

"MARISA! WAKE UP! THERE IS AN EMERGENCY!"

"GYAAAAH! WHAT THE FUCK!?" As if the wind force of the door opening was severely destructive, she was blown off her feet and into her rear, flicking the camisole right out of her head, and stared eye to eye with Meiling, who looked urgent at first then became increasingly red in the face before immediately looking away.

Marisa looked at her suddenly-cold chest and immediately covered it with her hand, feeling her face increasingly getting hotter and equally looking as red-faced as the redhead on the door. "AH! Geez, bitch! What's with you bargin' in like that, huh!?"

"So-so sorry!" Meiling looked ashamed, then shook her head. "No! That's not the issue here! Marisa, you need to come here! There's something you need to see!"

"What!?" Marisa glared venomously. "Remilia shat herself like a kid!? Patchy's library broken again!? Koakuma got gang raped by a bunch of her family members!? Did you suddenly stay awake during your duty!? Don't care so fuck out and gimme mah space!" She stomped forward to push the intruder out and slam it on her face.

"No! No!" She held her hands up in a placating manner. "Please listen! You need to see this!"

"DON'T!" She drew out her hakkero. "FUCKING!" She pointed it at the direction of Meiling's face. "CARE!" The point glowed, already ready to blast out and—

"Marisa, please!" Meiling caught her wrist and forced the hakkero downwards, the lame laser incinerating the floor and leaving a smoking hole.

Her hand shook under Meiling's grip. She glared up straight to the gatekeeper's aquamarine eyes. "Let. Go." She growled.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you instead!" Meiling said quickly, letting go and backing away towards the door. "It's Eman. He's in the room right next to yours and he's screaming his lungs out!"

Marisa's mind instantly shut down, then restarted as her ears caught the noises.

Screaming, shrilled and high-pitched, incomprehensible chanting….and a cacophony of furniture breaking.

She recognized all sets of sound when she was fighting Flandre in the library, watching the outsider go full tumble-mode in her Milky Way spell card.

When she found her voice, she let out a half-quiet "What?"

"I'm telling you." Meiling's eyes were supremely urgent, no lie or joke present in them. "I couldn't believe it myself but he's right there, breaking furniture and screaming profanities like no tomorrow!" She pointed to the wall, where another guest room is behind it, where the odd noises originated, where Eman is. "The goblins couldn't believe it too. I thought you sent him to Eintei."

The memory of Eman's one-armed increasingly-dark-skinned body plugged with wires and strapped to a hospital bed like a dangerous person sent her mind into focus. "I-I did! How—How the fuck is he here!?"

"My guess is as good as yours." Meiling winced at something only her Youkai ears heard and looked at the wall. "My goodness, what on earth is he doing in there?"

"Meiling….Marisa-nee…." Flandre's soft voice rang in the room. She turned and looked at the kid stare at the wall, having the look of recognition on her face as her vampire ears caught the noises perfectly well. "Is….is that Eman…..san…?"

That's it.

As she grabbed the camisole on the floor and put it on, she barked at Meiling, "Outta the way!" She shoved the Youkai aside roughly and bolted out, turning to the right and immediately sprinting to the door. Goblins that were crowding it quickly moved aside as she arrived and she immediately kicked the door down.

The roaring chaos within immediately fell quiet, and Marisa could not believe her eyes as the occupant stared back at her eyes with hazel orbs.

"Dude…" She breathed, jaw hanging slack and eyes wide. She heard him breathe her name as well, but the sight drowned it all out from reaching her ears.

The carpet was scattered. Feathers and stuffings that should remain inside a pillow is scattered everywhere. The bedroom sofa was toppled over, its pillows scattered almost everywhere. The table…completely decimated into chips of wood. The bed was thoroughly messed up, blanket and sheets haphazardly thrown in whatever direction.

Despite the mess, Marisa's eyes were tunneled. Tunneled into the man of the room, focusing only on him and nothing else.

His face….it was just like him, but the red line on his cheek was rather foreign. Besides that, everything else was so recognizable. Pale skin, wavy and bouncy silky hair, a very recognizable lean and muscled torso, the silver accessory on his neck, a height that rivaled Kanako….she might have been wrong about Eman's package last night.

The man followed her stare, realizing that she wasn't staring at his face, and looked down. He gave her a brief disbelieving stare before he dived towards the bed, hiding his naked self behind its bulk, his pale hand reached out to pull the blanket off the bed. [Fuckin' hell, Marisa! Of all the things for you to look at, it had to be down there! I am naked, yes, but geez!]

Marisa practically spat out the breath she didn't realize she held as the familiar language, intonation, slang, and curse came out from the same voice he kept hearing every time she annoyed that outsider. Now she was slightly pacing in her breathing, more so as she watched the man rise up, a blanket wrapped around his waist like a towel to hide his shame, and went around the bed, quickly running for a recognizable pair of green burnt pants that was reduced into shorts lying on the floor that she recognized Eman had worn when she brought him to Eintei.

Turning around, he wore the burnt pants on with his back facing her, the blanket obscuring his actions. After seemingly having it worn on his person, he discarded the blanket out and turned around, facing her.

[Heh….hehehe…] He chuckled, a growing smile on his face. […dude….boy I have never been so happy to see you.] His eyes wandered to her left side. [I see you got a little something for yer efforts…..I like it.] Then he returned to look back at her face, walking slowly towards her. [Damn, Marisa, yer frozen. Wake the he—]

He reached towards her with a left hand.

From what she saw last night, Eman lost that left hand.

She immediately blasted him with a laser.

She would have hit him if he hadn't sidestepped.

Yep. This one is definitely not him. He couldn't have expected that. If he was happy to see her, he would not expect an attack from her.

[Hey! What the hell!? It's me!]

Like hell. She blasted several more lasers, thin but painful enough to leave scars forever. Every time, he kept dodging them. His eyes remained focused on her hand, knowing the trajectory of the hakkero before moving and traversing the haggard mess without even looking around him at the same time.

[Marisa! Please! Stop! It's me! I'm not possessed! Seriously!]

She only intensified the pain her lasers would deliver once they hit him. She was already leaving little holes on the walls and whatever else she hit if she couldn't hit him.

His panicking expression slowly contorted to a hard look, an expression of supreme annoyance, frustration, and anger. He sneered, and created a very familiar sound, [Hrrrrgghh!]

That fuckin' growl….

[Maaarriiisssaaa…!] He growled her name, ducking under a sweeping flick of a laser about to sever him in half, grabbing a piece of broken wood on the floor in the same motion, and threw it at her face upon standing. [Fucking STOP!]

She simply leaned her head sideways to dodge it, seeing the flight path of the wooden projectile before he even reared it back. It was enough to make her stop firing lasers, however. A wave of déjà vu washed over her as she stood, her hakkero hand remaining outstretched.

He eyed her annoyingly before he shook his head, scratching his hair violently, making his silky hair bounce repeatedly before taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. His hands remained held up as a sign of non-aggression. [Listen, Marisa. It's seriously me. I'm the same Eman you know, same guy who beat you to shit in the library.]

He immediately slammed his hands down to his sides as a dangerous laser that would have taken away his entire left hand blew open a hole to the backyard behind him, the round opening melting a hot yellow and orange from the edges.

"Shut up." She said icily, her hakkero smoking and already about to blow off another laser of pure incineration. "Don't you fucking say a damn thing about what Eman and me did together. The last time I saw of 'im, he was grey-skinned, wild-headed, stunk ash, and he was missing an arm! He was s'pposed to come back wrong 'cuz all them spirits possessed him to shit!"

A sad, borderline sympathetic expression crossed his face. [Marisa…]

"I left Eman there in Eintei, hopin' he'd come back!" Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, and her voice was starting to crack. "But Eirin told me that there ain't no chance o' that happenin'! His skin was already darkening, his left arm was gone, and he sure as hell doesn't have that cut on his left cheek! He ain't comin' back! He's GONE! HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE!? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!? JUST WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCKER FUCK IS FUCKING GOING ON!? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH‼!‼!‼!‼!"

A Master Spark sent the room into a blinding chaos, burning everything that was in front of her into nothing but ash and molten masonry.

The blinding light of the sun that came from the massive opening on the wall forced Marisa to cover her eyes, breathing heavily from her verbal onslaught, and she squinted against the brightness, wondering if she actually incinerated that guy.

A couple of bumps collided against her feet as they slipped past her feet, accompanied by a multitude of jabbering voices before the bright light suddenly sapped out, the opening on the wall replaced by a magical sigil that plugged any source of light from coming in. There were 4 goblins manning the spell, the bricks and masonry reconstructed by materials from…somewhere.

A blur of movement from the bed drew her attention and she saw the man, somehow escaping the spell, reveal himself from hiding behind the bulk of the half-burnt bed. His eyes were wide from the near-miss of complete incineration and he was visibly stiff from his bare upper body, muscles tightened and ready for an evasive maneuver to execute in case Marisa starts shooting again.

Despite the situation, he raised his hands up, [Marisa…please…..just…just hear me out, okay? Lemme give you what I remembered before you conclude whether I speak the truth or not. Deal?]

He almost sounded like he was begging.

"Eman…san?"

No. She grimaced as she recognized the one person who'd call Eman with that suffix.

"Stay back."
[Stay back.]

Marisa and the man shared a shocked look over their unified command under two languages. Even the déjà vu that struck her once again is even more unsettling. This situation just feels so damn familiar. Even their hands are equally gestured for Flandre to stay where she stood; one hand spread wide and palms facing her.

Marisa frowned at him, he merely grimaced and pursed his lips as he stared back at her before she said, "Stay there and don't say nothin', 'kay?"

[Listen to her, kid.] He affirmed, taking a few steps back until he was against the wall. [Only between me an' her.]

Marisa didn't check to see if Flandre obeyed but the silence that followed for a few seconds signified the kid's compliance. Taking a deep breath before exhaling, she pointed her hakkero at him once again, glaring with a baleful flare in her eyes and said, "Talk."

He nodded and held his hands in front of his abdomen. [Okay…first of all, Marisa: I really don't know what the hell happened while I was knocked out cold. You said you sent me to Eintei, right? Ain't that the hospital in the bamboo forest?]

She said nothing, maintaining her aim on him.

[Well, whatever. Whether you did or not, I know nothing. All I ever remembered is you getting stabbed on the side by Flandre and—]

A pathetic whimper behind her made him pause in mid-sentence. The look on his face as he realized who else was in the room made him crinkle his face in displeasure. Marisa, in particular, felt a throb on her side but said nothing.

He growled, sneering his pearly-whites at the blunt statement he made but immediately shook his head and continued, staring deep into Marisa's eyes with a serious flare, [I saw you get killed, Marisa. Right in front of me.] His stare went down, almost looking like he was holding back tears and being successful, but not so with his body language. He looked ready to break down. [I…I.I didn't want to believe it. It was just so…sudden….out of nowhere.]

Likewise. Marisa silently agreed.

[That…] He was starting to heave in his breath, and not because he was having difficulty breathing. He was also shaking, his hands curling into shaking fists, and his expression was nothing but pure hatred as he glared at the ground. [….that made me snap, Marisa. Seeing you dead made me give up, made me resign myself to nothing but murder. So I did just that. I turned myself into a monster and tried to….] He leered maliciously, sneaking a glance at the person he was referring to. […murder Flandre as retribution.]

Marisa kept her face even. Eman's way of honoring her name was both worthy of respect and worthy of her spite. Flandre couldn't help it, but neither could Eman after seeing his friend get killed like that. She'd do the same thing if it was somebody else that's not Flandre.

He raised his stare back to her, his focus on her left scarred side. [I don't know how you survived that, Marisa. I don't even know how much time has passed that it became a scar but….you lived. You survived.] This time, his eyes were now beginning to tear up. [You don't know….you don't know how grateful I am. You've no idea just how fucking thankful I am that you're still alive…!] He wiped his eyes with his forearm, […I'd hug you so hard I'd break your bones but I don't know if you'll let me get close….fuckin' hell I can't stop crying….] He croaked, crying into his palms.

His voice was overflowing with sincerity, and his tears magnified them. They struck Marisa's heart dead on. His gratefulness for her being alive and well overwhelmed her. She never heard anybody say anything like those words before. Everybody always thinks she'd come out alive and a winner after every impossible fight. She thought the same way, she was the second best of Gensokyo after all…but to hear genuine concern was so different, especially after she nearly died...

She felt her eyes beginning to water at his confession, but she forcefully held it down. She couldn't stifle a sniffle, however. She finally lowered her hakkero but she remained where she stood, wearing a neutral expression. "I left Eman to Eintei's hands. How's it you here?" She was successful in keeping her voice even.

Acknowledging her question, he wiped his eyes fully from tears, damping his entire hands and forearms before he wiped them on his burnt pants. He answered with a slightly shaky voice, [That….I can't answer that cuz I don't know the answer. I..I-I just woke up here, naked and feelin' hypersensitive everywhere.] He brushed his fingers across his bicep and he winced not after 5 inches of sliding his digit against it. Then he turned to her, [But I can tell you this: Marisa, remember the first time we met? You were at my tent, looking at me, you helped me up and all, carried Reimu to her room….remember that?]

Marisa recalled that day, and found herself comparing the Eman from before to this one. They were super-contradictive to each other. No perfect match at all. "Yeah." She answered.

[I was not this white before.] He told her grimly. [I was brown, my bones were fucked to shit, and I couldn't even walk right. But the day after that, after building that cross, when you came to the shrine carryin' that sack of bugs….what did I look like?]

She clenched her fist, suddenly realizing what he was implying. "You're suddenly white and lookin' like ya had a good night sleep. Even yer movements don't say yer bones are fucked."

He nodded, [It happened again.] He took a step forward, making distance away from the wall and coming close to her at a respectful distance. [The sensations I felt when I woke up on Monday are happening again.] He looked down on his hands, closing and opening them into fists. [I feel so energetic, healthy….happy…and emotional. Everything I touch is so ticklish and I feel like I could take over the world. I even woke up on the shrine even though I passed out on the clearing after finishing the cross the day before.] Then he raised his gaze back to her, silently awaiting her response over the numerous facts that held merit to his claim as the friend who died last night finding retribution for her sakes.

Marisa felt everyone's eyes on her from behind. Her lips quivered over this development, and she hesitated in what she was supposed to say or do next. She looked deep into the same hazel eyes she knew existed in Eman's sockets. They were eager, impatiently awaiting her next words. There is nothing within them that held deceit and false identity. She found only truth and her recognition of the man called Eman Letitia.

She took a deep breath, then she exhaled in an audible and breathy 'hah'. Fuck it.

She let the hakkero on her hand slip from her grasp, letting it land against the floor with the sound of ceramic colliding against stone, and walked forward to him. Her stride held purpose and she never removed her gaze on his eyes.

She was at arm's length from him now, and she looked up to his towering height as he looked down on hers. He did nothing or said nothing, simply standing and staring with the eagerness becoming clear in his eyes, awaiting her next move.

Pursing her lips, she asked for possibly the last time, "How do I know it's you? How do I know yer actually Eman, huh? How do I know yer not just a tanuki shapeshifter that's been watching him for a long time that you'd know how he thinks, how he talks or what happened to him till now? How do I know you are Eman but simply acting like 'im while in reality yer the same demon that possessed him when we fought?"

Rather than acting surprised for the last question, his expression only hardened, and the movement his eyes made exposed the impression that he was lost, lost as to what to say that can answer all of her questions in one go.

It made his credibility doubtable but her final decision was already made at this point. All that was left is to hear what he has to say.

Marisa watched closely as his eyes wandered all over the place, looking but not seeing, rummaging hard over his mental facilities for a proper answer. She tried to wonder what was he thinking about but discovered that his personality was too complicated for her to try. She never met a type like him before.

The silence went on as she allowed him to think, but frankly, Marisa was getting impatient. She tapped her bare foot against the cindered floors, continuously staring at his wandering eyes.

Then his eyes settled to look at one place below her feet, then they turned to face her directly in the eyes.

She watched him steeling himself by taking slight intakes of breath, clenching and unclenching his fists before settling them into a closed hand. Licking his lips, he answered her, [The last question though…..I don't know how I could answer that….] She narrowed her eyes at this and faked a magical gesture at her side, trying to see how he'll react but he didn't break eye contact. She wasn't sure if he even noticed. […but I know this….you will beat me down again. If I end up getting black eyes again and started throwing fire all over the place, I'll trust you to beat me to shit again to make sure I come back. You did it once…] He smirked, [….I'll expect a second….maybe a third. Hell, go for a thousandth! It'd tell the bastard that he can't. Beat. You. Marisa Kirisame, the unbeatable ordinary magician.]

Her eyes widened at how unexpected that was. He did not answer the question fully, he simply answered with the mindset that he is Eman and complimented her at the same time. She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or be wary. He could be diverting her focus with the compliment.

Then the smirk on his face disappeared, replaced by a serious and firm expression.

Mood swingin'….just like Eman.

[One more thing….] His voice was low this time, […you promised me.]

She raised an eyebrow at this.

He pursed his lips, clenching his fists at his sides, [You promised to train me, Marisa. Back at lunch, you swore that to me, and I said yes.] He took a slight step back, his hands levelled to his waist, palm upwards.

From the left hand, he snapped fingers and a ball of yellow fire erupted from his hands, creating warmth. She slightly tensed as he did this, thinking he was about to attack. From the right hand, he gestured as if he was about to take something, like a piece of paper. Then, sparks of fire conjured themselves out of his palm and into the space between his fingers and thumb, clumping together to form a red rectangular shape. When the shape was dense with the sparks, it glowed bright, dimmed, and became a spell card.

Within the card's center, there was the familiar magical circle with the rune in the middle that signified the element of fire. There was a humanoid shadow floating in front of the symbol, spreading his arms and tilting his head up. On the top and bottom borders of the spell card, they were coated with pure red fire, giving the impression that the shadow figure was casting the spell in a burning cave. The Incantation written on it gave Marisa his full proof of identity, even if it was upside-down from her point of view.

«Second Coming—The Lake of Fire»

[I finally have my powers. I finally have my spell card. I even showed you that I could dodge danmaku worth a shit.] His shoulders lit up in flames, shrouding his entire back with pure yellow fires. [You told me I was an emotion-triggered pyromancer. You told me to get pissed or get emotional to bring it out. Turns out I could do it without going hyper.] His right hand let go of the spell card and she watched it float to the middle in-between his hands, dispensing fire out of its four sides and feeding his hands with their flame, further heightening the temperature of the room. His arms was fully incased with flames, and his torso was next. [I didn't just throw flames, I danced with them. They worked hand-in-hand with my acrobatics. I just move and I end up shooting.] The lower half of his body was now ignited. Despite the flames, the floor wasn't burning. His head was the only part that wasn't lit up in flames. [In my fight against Flandre, I was a living forest fire due to my anger. That library took no time to end up into a room full of ashes. I even did things I didn't know I could do before. I summoned a fire golem!]

He was now a being of fire.

That mentioned 'living forest fire' was coming to be. The flames in his being was starting to intensify, the tongues of the fire reaching up to the ceiling, and the room was reaching boiling levels. The coat of flames visibly enlarged, making his figure appear far more bulky and imposing. The outline of horns from the fires on the burning head told of the fire golem he claimed to have created.

Despite these developments, Marisa never moved an inch and simply watched him go.

Then the flames disappeared into nothing, as quickly as blowing out a candlelight. The being of fire was now replaced by Eman.

[But I don't think I'm good enough. Not yet. One battle ain't enough, and I bet there's still stuff I don't know 'bout these spell card fights.] He returned his focus to Marisa. [I have my flames, I have my spell card; I'm set, Marisa. When will you do it? When will you hold up to what we agreed?]

Marisa stiffened, then relaxed. She schooled her expression to look as flat as possible as she looked up to him, staring back at his waiting face. After finding the right answer, she tilted her head, placed her hands on her waist, and asked, [Yer askin' me when?]

He frowned, slightly taken aback by being asked, [Yeah?]

She punched him straight to the gut.

[UUgghaaaa!‼] As Eman keeled over while holding his stomach, she heard a chorused squawk or yelps of surprise from the people behind her.

"After the party, of course!" She tried not to sound like she was exaggerating the matter-of-factly tone of her words but she probably failed. Her smile was already broadening on her lips, "Party's t'morrow and we gotta prepare some food an' stuff! Fights and shit oughtta wait, man! Reimu's already preparin' the setting, and it ain't no Hakurei party without booze. Never forget the booze-da ze!"

He coughed haphazardly, one hand on the floor while the other crumpled his punched abdomen. He looked up to her with gritting teeth, [Really necessary!?] He rasped.

"Sure it is!" She patted him in the back gently, as opposed to her first thoughts of smacking him to the ground. "Oughtta teach ya to put important priorities first!"

Eman merely groaned, lowering his head and placing his other hand to the ground, trying to ease his breathing.

Then she placed both hands on his cheeks, lifting his face up to look at her, and she bumped foreheads with him, slightly tickling herself with his silky black bangs. He was slightly wide-eyed at her advances, but Marisa simply smiled to him. Up close and personal, she could totally see the life and energy that existed in Eman's hazel eyes.

Yep, this totally is Eman. It seemed her prayers are heard. Eman had come back, he had come back to her, to fulfill the promise she made. She'll see that promise to the end.

"Okaeri, Aniki." She greeted. The simplest greeting she could ever think of in this wondrous moment. She could have picked one of the few alternatives she thought of, but this one suited her best.

He returned her smile, his eyes about to tear up again. No doubt hers too. "Tadaima, Aneki."

Then immediately she pulled him to a tight hug, one that'll suffocate him straight to unconsciousness with her battle-hardened petite arms around his neck. Eman seemed to reciprocate the intention as the pale arms around her waist was tight enough to shrink her diaphragm, suffocating her as well. Despite such an exchange, they laughed. A laughter that intermingled with their growls and tears.

As she felt his grip loosen and his focus now looking behind her, she slightly parted the hug and looked the same direction. It was Flandre, meekly stepping forward while Meiling and company remained by the door. Her eyes were slick with her vampire red tears, running down her dead-pale skin. Her wings jingled in the slightest as she approached, twiddling with her fingers in front of her waist. Her focus was fully planted on Eman, and she seemed scared, grateful, guilty, and hesitant all at once. "Eman-san…."

Marisa turned to Eman, and he simply looked down, appearing equally guilty as well, but he schooled that impression to put on a warm smile and beckon her, [Come're. Lemme squeeze ya again!] He ordered jovially.

Flandre needed no other prompt. She practically smashed herself against the two of them with a cry of joy, nearly sending the two humans to the ground, burying her eyes on his bare white shoulder and beginning to wail, letting all her guilt, self-loathing and other pent-up emotions out through her red tears.

Feeling rather compassionate, she rubbed Flandre's back above the base of her wings and gave a sisterly kiss to her blonde head before she hugged her too, nestling herself in Eman's chest, her head bumping his chin. With two blondes within hugging distance, Eman enclosed her and Flandre both in his big hands and squeezed.

The third déjà vu she experienced this day is much more tolerable, and she let a single tear fall down her cheek.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Jergo turned to Meiling beside him, who noticed his stare. "Yes?"

He turned to the hugging trio once again, their forms swaying slowly side to side as Flandre continued weeping. Her wails that had been loud are now reduced to little sniffles, and it looks like she was about to fall asleep once again.

He turned to the redhead again, "Was this mistress's plan?"

Meiling was silently shocked over the question. She had two possibilities in mind: yes, this could've been part of the Mistress's plan. But her behavior this evening did not support that assumption. She was genuinely distressed, and Patchouli wouldn't know how to act, much less Sakuya; the other assumption was no, this could not be part of the mistress's plan. The failure of the plan was coincidentally diverted and everything turned out fine.

Whether it's one or the other, there were absolutely no losses. The guest lived. Marisa lived. Flandre can smile again. There are absolutely no chances of the Hakurei Shrine Maiden raiding the Scarlet Devil Mansion and beating every single resident into a mulch.

"It doesn't matter at this point, Jergo." She replied, smiling contentedly at the sight before her along with the other goblins. "Every suffering they went through has led to this point, and this moment belongs to them."

Jergo grunted in response, neither agreement nor disagreement. As he squinted his eyes at the sight, especially on the guest, he quickly made a conclusion, "Guest need clothes." The squad of goblins heard him and muttered in agreement amongst themselves.

"Aye." Meiling nodded. "But I doubt the Mansion had anything to offer. There are majorly women's clothing in these closets and none of you goblins give the slightest damn about clothing."

A chorus of grunts signified the goblins agreement, "We make clothes. What Guest wear, we make again."

Meiling turned to him with a rather interested stare, "You know how to knit clothes with thread and needle, Jergo?"

"We watch work, we do work. Very easy." Jergo answered matter-of-factly, not the slightest tone of pride in his voice present. He earned a mumble of agreement from the boys afterwards.

"Of course," Meiling chose to not ask any further questions. Despite their time together, there are still many mysteries the goblins keep to themselves. "Can you make his wardrobe more durable? I can foresee that clothing damage will not help him in any way, not just the loss of modesty." She's mainly saying that due to the fact that he had a very attractive build that could effortlessly draw a woman's gaze, especially if he had such white flesh. Unwanted attention from women might deter him from doing whatever important task he was supposed to do. But considering the number of women who favor spell cards and danmaku over lethal approaches, it could have worked in his favor if they are too distracted checking him out instead of shooting back. But still, Meiling should hold his privacy over his advantage in mind.

"Guest clothes not break easily next." Jergo affirmed, earning another chorus of agreement. "Shoes too."

Meiling closed her eyes for Jergo's benign gesture, smiling, "I'll thank you on his behalf in advance."

The automatic chorus of grunts followed afterwards, the goblin equivalent of 'yeah, yeah, whatever so don't mention it again just like the several thousand times we told you'.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom door, warm and steamy water running down Eman's baby-skinned body from the showerhead that hovered above him in the bathroom of the guest quarters he destroyed.

Despite his standard to refrain from 'overcomfort' and preserve his constitution, a little bit of indulgence once in a while would not hurt anybody. Once again, he reminded himself that hot water is very pleasurable, it helped that he could feel the stiffness of his newly-made body going away in the following seconds. Good thing he believed in the expression: The longer the wait, the sweeter the reward.

And it was indeed rewarding.

Even though the people fixing the decimated guest room (including Meiling) couldn't see him from the locked door, they could practically hear his ecstasy from it.

"~Largo al factotum della citta, largo~"

And apparently the sound of an exaggerated baritone singing the 'Marriage of Figaro'.

"~Lalalalalalalala…LaAAAAAA~!

~Presto a bottega che l'alba e gia, Presto~

Lalalalalalalalala Laaaaaaa~!"

The annoyed growls of the goblins nearly made the entire room rumble due to the numbers present, nearly reaching a 40. With grit teeth and scowled faces did they progress their work on the repairs. The effort was sound and effective, magic and coordination doing wonders to the renovation. Fresh lumber frequently brought are carved, assembled, and nailed together to replace the furniture. Meiling thought they could have done that woodwork in another place but she suspected that they were just trying to drown out Eman's singing with the hammer. They are slamming the nails with more force than necessary.

"~Ah, che bel vivere, che bel piacere, che bel piaceeeeeeeeeeeree~

Per un barbieeeere di qualita! Di qualita~!"

Meiling thought she heard a cloth get ripped but the following growl of rage told her that one goblin from the group who was supposed to repair the cloth of the bed sheet screwed up in his efforts due to frustration.

She couldn't help but chuckle.

"~Aaaaah, bravo Figaro! Bravo, bravissimo! Bravo~!"

The hammers that slammed and pounded to recreate the table were getting loud and out of rhythm.

"~Lalalalalalalalala Laaa~!

~Fortunatissimo per verita! Bravo~!"

Even louder hammer pounding. Meiling was starting to hear the wood crack, and she was pretty sure there was more wood being hammered than the head of the nail.

"~Lalalalalalalalala La~!

~Fortunatissimo per verita! Fortunatissimo per verita~!

~Lalalala Lalalalalalalalalalalalala Laaaaaa~!"

The freshly-made table broke apart.

Meiling suppressed the laughter that boiled inside her throat and turned to look over her shoulder as she froze in her work of sewing the mattress, inquiring with the most genuine tone of curiosity, "Are you doing okay there, boys?"

The annoyed glare the table group sent to her was enough to tell her that they were everything but okay, relaxed, and at their element. This incident due to a man's singing, she couldn't believe how ridiculous that sounds.

"Can't any of you just soundproof the door with a little bit of magic?" She suggested.

Everybody looked at each other, sending silent exchanges that only they understood before Jergo, who worked at doing the finishing touches of the hole in the wall, stepped up and spoke, "We fixed library. Too big, needed many to fix big library. We tired, cannot do magic well." The others mumbled in agreement, grudging visages coloring their expressions. "Brothers rest and sleep, not many will work today."

"Oh." She inclined her head in understanding, "I see."

Despite their advanced mastery of magic spells that rivaled true magicians, an average hobgoblin's stock of magical power is lesser than a fairy. If they were to execute such spells that do not rival a fairy's general prowess, they would need numbers to pool their magical energy together to cast the most destructive spells.

The only hobgoblin to never rely on numbers to create such monstrous spells is none other than Jergo himself, the leader. He wasn't their head just because he was the first to be found by the yellow-haired lady and became the servant of the Village Leader after years of hiding and unemployment in the outside world.

"~Laaaargo al factotum della citta, largo~

Lalalalalalalala…LaAAAAAA~!"

The look of horror and growing annoyance on every individual goblin, especially the leader himself, was such a sight to behold for Meiling.

"Well…." Meiling let herself smirk, returning to her sewing on the mattress. "…Looks like we will fix this quarters while we listen to Eman-dono's wonderful singing~!"

~Presto a bottega che l'alba e gia, Presto~

~Lalalalalalalalala La~!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!"

This time she wasn't able to hold it down and blew her ass off listening to their screams of anguish.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Hihihihihihihihihihihihihi~! Evil laugh~~~!

Know the pain of my friends whenever they're in a fucking hangoveeeeer~! Hehehehehehahahahahahaha~!

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Marisa sighed happily, practically drowning in the warmth of the water.

Nothin' like relaxin' on a bathtub lik'a sexy babe.

In a time like this, she'd usually have one of Patchouli's waterproof books in her hands and read the hell out of fifteen chapters before she leaves and realize it was past lunch. But to enjoy a simple hot bath like this, especially after a miracle came to her life, is a real treat. She might as well make the most of it.

"~Pronto a far tutto, la notte e il giorno~

~sempre d'intorno in giro sta~

~Miglior cuccagna per un barbiere~

~vita piu nobile, no, non si da~

~Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala—"

She submerged herself into the water.

If she tries to make the most out of this bath while Eman was singing the hell out of his first hot bath in months and managed to make himself heard right through the bathroom wall where it isn't too soundproof well, she reconsidered her thoughts on this being a memorable moment in her life.

"~V'e la risorsa~

~Poi, de mestieeeeere~"

A couple of air bubbles plopped out of her nose.

"~Colla donneeeeetta... col cavalieeeeeere~"

More bubbles blew out, her face scrunching up from the effort.

"~Colla donneeeeettalalalalalalala... col cavalieeeeeerelalalaaaaaalalala~"

Her lungs were already tightening from the numerous bubbles that were now seeping out of her mouth.

"La. LA. LA! LAAAAAAAA~~~~!"

She threw her upper body out of the water, sending splashes all over the bathroom as she took in precious oxygen. So much for drowning out the song. She could still hear him! What the hell is that wall made out of, Styrofoam!? Or rather: how loud is he singing!?

"~Tutti mi chiedono~

~tutti mi vogliono~

~donne, ragazzi~

~vecchi, fanciulle~

~Qua la parruca~

~Presto la barba~

~Qua la sanguigna~

~Presto il biglietto~"

…..…..…..

….Marisa waited…..and waited.

…is it over? She thought hopefully, slowly lowering her hands off her ears.

"~Tutti mi chiedono, tutti mi vogliono~"

"AGH! C'MON!" She screamed, storming out of the tub with a big splash and stomping to the shower in a separate area of the expansive bathroom. At least in this distance, she could hear him less.

"~Tutti mi chiedono, tutti mi vogliono~

~Qua la parruca. Presto la barba. Presto il biglieeeetto~"

"Not…." Marisa dryly finished with her voice full of sarcasm, twisting the knob and letting the warm water rain down her head. The first thing he does when he comes back right, he sings the shit out of his shower. And she thought she saw everything the guy could do.

~Fiiiiigaaaarooo! Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiigaaaroo~!

~Figaro! Figaro! Figaro! Figaro! Figaro! Figaro!

Fiiiiigaroo~~~~~!"

Marisa stared slightly wide-eyed at the wall. "…huh, what'd y'know? He can reach that kinda frequency." She commented, continuing to run her hand down her petite arm. The silence that followed was a moment of solace, but she knew that it wouldn't last. She gotta make it all worth it and finish rinsing herself.

He sure got a lot of energy inside him after they finished hugging the life out of Flandre that she ended up falling asleep. A few goblins scrambled over to carry the kid to her bedroom via telekinesis, leaving Marisa and Eman alone with the remaining group along with Meiling to realize their state of dress. She was in her underwear, he was unclean from the bloody tears that stained his shoulder and he is half-naked. His pants could barely do him any form of modesty.

That's the part where he suggested he'd take a bath, already heading to the bathroom door with a bit of excitement rolling out of his every dialogue. It exposed that he never had a hot shower in a long time.

Marisa couldn't stop herself that moment. "Hey, Eman, wanna go together?"

She expected him to reply with an instant and annoyed 'no', given his past of a wounding event with women in the past. But she meant it as a joke. Today was a good day after all. He's alive! What other reason could she have to start joking around other than the fact that she was very happy?

She shivered, hugging her naked self protectively.

She did not actually see his reply coming.

[Sure. So long as you don't do anything kinky. I'm expecting a bath. A nice, cleaning, rinsing, and relaxing hot bath, not a chance for a penetration.]

The way his voice sounded super nonchalant as if he was allowing her to have the last slice of cake because he was already full simply magnified her shock. And his face wasn't blushing at all! It was casual!

She pretty much lost her composure on the spot at that moment, flustered and her pale complexion blushed red all over from her state of dress where more skin is visible. She suddenly felt self-conscious and nervous at that moment, so she excused herself with a stutter, reconsidered her offer and ran to her guest room.

She facepalmed herself with a sigh. Well played, brah. Well played. She lowered her hand, frowning over a certain possibility. Wait, was he joking or was he serious?

She turned to the wall again. He was singing and really enjoying himself (by a lot), did that mean he joked? Or was he indifferent to her reconsideration?

…..…..…..

….…..…..…..…..…..

"Meh." Marisa shrugged, turning the knob and shutting the water.

Shivering from the chill that ran down her skin due to the warm water no longer running down her flesh, she wringed her hair and walked towards the door, taking the towel on the way. She stared at her heart-shaped scar for more than a dozen seconds before she continued walking.

Drying her hair with the towel, she opened the door and froze completely as three pairs of slit yellow eyes turned to her.

On the bed, with her skirt, blouse, and vest, was a trio of hobgoblins holding a needle with thread, a spool of thread, and the holed blouse respectively on each goblin.

After just 5 seconds of Marisa looking like a deer caught in a carriage's lamp and the goblins regarding her naked presence with apathy, the two parties continued with their business.

"Geez, guys, at least tell me ya were gonna fix my threads-ze." She lightly whined with an easy smile, casually passing by the working trio with all her flesh in the air (including her scar) as she walked over to the sofa that had her undergarments, dripping endlessly on the carpeted floors with her still-soaked body.

"Eegh."
"Eegh."
"Eegh."

And the same old grunt choruses, the rhythm of their work not faltering in the least as they fixed the shred on her blouse. She can see that they washed out the blood, and the vest along with the skirt looks nicely ironed as they lay primly folded on the bedside. Their performance as butlers and servants never disappoints.

Taking her hakkero, she switched the frequency and let out a gust of warm air to blow into her hair, creating a slight buzzing sound as the artifact behind it made quick work of drying her locks. "Did y'all clean mah hat as well?"

"Eegh."
"Eegh."
"Eegh."

They tilted their heads to her signature hat on the table in unison, looking as good as new.

She chuckled, "Thanks, guys. Yer the best."

"Eegh."
"Eegh."
"Eegh."

As she was finished drying her hair and wiping the water out of her body, she wore her camisole and bloomer before she sauntered close to the bed, taking the skirt and donning it to her person, tying the apron. She brushed her hand across the ironed cloth. So smooth! She grinned, taking a bit of fabric and rubbing it with her palm, enjoying the fuzziness.

"Nearly done there?"

"Wait."
"Wait."
"Wait."

Okay, all three came off as annoyed.

"Okay, okay." She held her hands up, taking a step back. "Sorry to rush ya-ze."

"Done."
"Done."
"Done."

She did a double-take, "Wait, what?"

The trio held up her frilly blouse up like a treasure as they showed it to her, presenting its repaired and seemingly-new state. Not a single blemish or wrinkle could be seen. The stitches that closed the hole on its left side didn't even look visible. It simply looked like she freshly got it from 10 year old Alice's stash of underwear.

"I'll take that." She swiped it out of their hands and quickly put it on, hiding her scar. After tucking it in her skirt, she spread her arms and shook her chest. She smiled, "It's good!"

They rolled their eyes in perfect unison before one took the folded vest and held it out to her. Taking it without a word, she quickly wore it over her blouse and wore her hat.

Now satisfied with herself, she placed fists on her hips and grinned with pride. Kirisame Marisa, Ordinary Magician, is back again!

Then she realized that the goblins had disappeared from the bed and she heard the door clicking open.

She turned around and called out, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Wait! Wait! I wasn't done with ya guyz yet!"

They froze in place as they were about to leave, looking at her with surprise before they looked at each other with questioning glances. After several glances, they moved away from the door and stood in a line, crossing their arms and matching scowls.

"What is it?"
"What is it?"
"What is it?"

"Uh..um, well…." Suddenly, she felt sheepish, scuffing her shoe on the foot on the floor. Her mouth made to speak but barely a word made out. This happened for nearly 10 seconds, Marisa hesitating in her words and the scowls on the goblins increasingly getting heavy. But as soon as the set of seconds have passed, she finally spit it out. "Thank you."

Instead of grunting like always, the trio raised an eyebrow at her words. For one thing, it was deep with sincerity. The usual 'thank you' they receive once in a while are just acts of courtesy, hardly ever genuine.

"I ain't sure whether ya three are the ones that saved me or not but listen: Thank you." She firmly said, looking deeply into their individual slit eyes that slowly widened. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. You saved me, and there's no way I could ever thank you enough. If I had died, Gensokyo would be having one less protector. A lotta people'd be lifeless without me." Then she lowered her gaze, a solemn air lingering around her. "Reimu would'a been all alone." She shook her head slowly, "Got no parents. No siblings. Ain't nobody there her flesh an' blood, at all. I took up that role cuz I know that she's lonely, cuz she's sad and cryin' on the inside." She clenched her fist, her lips pursed. "Reimu needs me, and I need her. We've been nothin' but sisters since then, even if we don't admit it. We are inseparable, together forever."

Now she raised her gaze up to the slack-jawed goblins, knelt before them, and took the left hand of one, took both hands of the second, and took the right one of the third, squeezing them and sending all her thanks through them. "Once you see Jergo, tell him I said thanks. I'll do what I can to pay ever'body back."

The trio's jaws continued to hang, even as she finished. Then they regained their composure and shut their mouth. Shaking both her hands up and down, she let go, and they recited the proper response to this display of gratitude that would befit the standards of their mistress, for perhaps the first time after their months of service.

"You're welcome…" One began.

"….Marisa-san…." The second continued.

"Your gratitude…." The third added.

"…will be remembered…" Then the first followed up, the order consistent in the next lines.

"…in the hearts of ha'gh'kuth'ma."

"May our service…"

"…benefit you in your days…"

"…and those who benefit from you."

Then they bowed, their genuine solemnity and formality as clear as the sincerity in their words.

"We are glad to be of assistance."
"We are glad to be of assistance."
"We are glad to be of assistance."

She was taken aback by their gesture. She waved her hands, "He-hey! No need to bow-ze! I'm s'pposed to be the one bowin' here!"

Then a sound decimated the heartfelt moment like a boulder falling atop a lizard sunbathing. They couldn't stop themselves from flinching from it.

"~Ehi, Figaro! Son qua. Ehi, Figaro~!

~Son qua. Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro qua, Figaro la~

~Figaro su, Figaro giu, Figaro su, Figaro giu~

~Pronto prontissimo son come il fumine~

~Sono il factotum della citta~

~Della citta. Della citta. Della citta. Della citta—"

"«NARROW SPARK»!"

As the laser that was aimed at the bathroom doorway and straight towards the wall that separated her bathroom from Eman's, it slowly shrunk to a little light and she pocketed the hakkero in her apron, taking comfort from the familiar weight it gave.

"That oughtta shut 'im up, right, boys?" She turned to them, then began looking all over the room as the trio had just mysteriously disappeared. "Boys?"

"~Ah, bravo Figaro~!" Marisa squawked as Eman's voice came crashing back like a wrecking ball, the speed of his singing had increased immensely and he still managed to stay legible.

"~Bravo, bravissimo. Ah, bravo Figaro! Bravo, bravissimo~"

~A te fortuna, a te fortuna, a te fortuna non manchera~

~Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala—"

She gripped her head, her frustration already going past the breaking point.

And break it did. [FUCKIN' HELL!‼] She unwittingly shouted one of Eman's lines with such fluency that even Marisa herself was surprised before she shook herself out of it and bolted out the room.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"~A te fortuna, a te fortuna, a te fortuna non manchera~

~Sono il factotum della citta. Sono il factotum della citta. Della citta, Della citta~

~Della ciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittAaAaAaAAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAaAAAAA~!"

*KBSSSSSSHHHHH!*

The wooden bucket of water I threw slammed against the brown-tiled wall on its brim, creating the loudest thud I ever heard in this closed room, and the water inside was plastered against the wall like you wouldn't believe.

Holy shit, that was [AWESOME! HAHAHAAAAAAA!‼ Yes!]

Now where's me towel? Ah, there you are. Good thing I didn't wet you up in this splash party.

*Whistle~~* La Donna È Mobile

The whistle came off as a smooth tune. For how expansive this fancy bathroom is, the tune echoed all over and it sounded like I was all over the place. I hate mathematical physics but I sure love the physics of reality.

Oh…

I have just realized that I don't have pubic hair anymore. Not just that but even my arms and legs, they're bald as hell! I'm white all over, except for the head part where black, pink, and hazel reside. Did God design Adam and Eve like this? Only having hair on the head and nowhere else? If anything, I'm thankful. Back before, my armpit hairs came late, at 17. Even for much physical work I do, they came late. I forgot to look that up on the net. And the hair on my balls were something I didn't appreciate in my adolescence. Itchy as fuck, bothered the hell out of me when I did my free-roaming.

And damn, this silky hair's dope, didn't even need some of that shampoo they got here…I admit that it's kinda embarrassing. I look at myself in the water and it makes me look like I went into a women's salon. Oh well, the girly flair of this hair will be abolished once people get to see past the white skin and into the crazy side of me.

C'mon, I flip and tumble in the air and I can look as scary as a monster if you want me to! I'll even sing Cradle of Filth in a karaoke and win a 100 score, dammit!

[Hehe….] I'm keeping the hair anyway. God built it for me, I'll be thankful.

Hold him close, then I'll say, {Salamat, Ginoo.}

Okay, I think I'm pretty much dried up, hair is also nicely dried up with the towel, I take the robe that hanged from the hook on the wall and don it on.

…..not gonna lie, this is the first time I wore a bathrobe…..it's like wearin' a full-body towel…..and it feels…conservative…for a lack of better word.

Never mind that, this robe feels great! It's fluffy to the skin, and it's easy on the hypersensitive skin too.

Anyway, let's get out of this room. I'm suffocatin' from all this steam and heat. Where's the door….ah, there you are.

*Kachak*

….…..

…..…..

….okay, I thought everybody left.

Instead, everybody's here. There's Meiling, there's Jergo and his boys, and even Marisa is here, full commando in her witch suit.

If I can exclude Meiling as the only exception here, I say that everybody in this room looks royally pissed!

Shit…look at 'em. I never saw so many people lookin' at me like this in such intensity and silence before.

For such a tense atmosphere, I don't know what to say to cut the silence. You don't see yourself facing this kind of situation everyday, do ya?

Well, if I wanna break the silence…..I guess I'll say the most simplistic sentence I got in mind.

[You guys sure fixed up this room good.]

…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..awkward silence ensues afterwards, the staring continued.

I just sighed, slumping forward dramatically and letting my hands sag. Lifting my head up, I'll just smile wimply and say, [Sorry, I just couldn't help it. It's been a while since I annoyed somebody with it.] Their faces didn't even twitch a bit. Geez. I straightened up and removed the smile, [I just got remade, guys, c'mon. My emotional state is really high right now, don't'cha think I couldn't stay stoic for long, especially after knowing that Marisa is still alive?]

Then everybody drops the glares and frowns. I guess it's Marisa's name that made 'em concede.

"Hrgh." Jergo grunted once and every goblin in the room scrambled out the door, every trace of red skin filing out except for the boss goblin. He simply stood there watching out for the gang until he's the only one here. Once he's the only one here, he walked over to the bed, hopped up to it and gestured to the—oh. Are those my…

Look at 'em, neatly folded in a pile. My black shirt, my orange tactic pants, and—okay, who owns those thigh-length boxers? [Those my clothes?]

Jergo nodded.

"Repaired and remade, my friend." Meiling added, sitting on the bedside and holding up the shirt. Looks just like the last time I wore it, pre-library afternoon fight that is. No more slits and cuts now. "I assume you lost your original shirt in the library last evening, aye?"

[Yep.] And the memory suddenly became clear. I wonder what God put in this brain of mine? [I kinda threw it away when it was simply hangin' from my shoulder.]

She flashed a nice smile, "Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore." She turned to Jergo, "If you please?"

Oh, what's he gonna do?

Okay, Jergo's making a red electric ball in his hand and he—

*ZZZZAAAP!*

Whoa! The shirt didn't have a burnt hole even if Jergo shot at it!

[Cooool.] I probably have stars in my eyes right now. [It's now resistant to magic?]

"And physical punishment." Meiling added again. Jergo tugged one side of the shirt and began clawing at it. There were no rips or shreds, or even the thread being ripped out of the fabric. After he let go of the shirt, Meiling held it up again, "The only punishment it cannot stand will be any blow that matches an oni."

"Wow." Whoa, even Marisa was intrigued by it, leaning close to the fabric and feeling its cloth. "D'you use an enchantment on this?"

Jergo grunted, "Library Mistress enchant books, books not destroyed. We do same to clothes. Clothes not destroyed, even Master Spark."

Oh dear, I think you should'a held that, Jergo. Marisa's looking at the shirt with a challenge in her eyes, "Really? Why don't we give it a test drive, eh?"

[No! No! No! No! No! No!] Don't you dare shoot the fucking megaton laser on my fucking shirt! I'm holding your hakkero wrist down, woman, don't ya dare move. [Marisa, save that for training. I could wear that shirt while we're at it.]

"Oh." And instantly, she backs away with an eager smile. "Good thinkin'. I'll put yer name on my Spark, then."

Out of the bath, and I'm already digging a grave.

Whatever, not the worst I've done in my life. I once assaulted a teacher I hated and nobody ever knew it was me. One of the evidences that I didn't like being a good person before. You regret the things you do because you know people won't like it, but frankly I just hate that guy.

He made the worst impression he ever left on me.

He asked if anybody had sex, I'm frankly the only one who didn't raise my hand up. The way he asked 'you're still a virgin?' made it sound like I haven't circumcised yet. Then he started saying….things that I didn't want to remember, whatever they were, they were degrading and demeaning, especially when the other students began laughing at me.

'You should have had an orgasm at 16 by now, virgin.'

If it weren't for the fact that a good lady friend of mine yelled at him to stop, I would've grabbed my pen and stabbed him in the eye for it.

If I cannot stab him in the eye now, I'll do so in a couple weeks, maybe months. I'll do it after I made some good friends to blend in. I got successful, girls talked to me and I hang out with the dudes no problem. I gotta leave the impression that I forgot all about what he said, and assault him when he thinks I don't care about him anymore.

And when he thinks I don't care about him anymore, I shattered his knees and bent his elbows. Let's see him ask about that virgin question again while looking like that. If anything, I'd like to see him fuck a woman without using the cowgirl position.

It was the most successful assault of my life, and it was the first time I ever did such a thing. I prayed a whole lot in the following Sunday, wallowing in guilt and satisfaction for what I did. But frankly, I regretted nothing.

When I visited him in the hospital, I said to him, 'I wish I got to you first before that guy did. I could'a done worse,' I pointed to his nether regions, doing a scissor gesture, 'I'll make you experience how I enjoy being a guy who doesn't sex people for the hell of it.'

Then I gifted him a slice of cake that he always bought from the nearest cake shop whenever he felt like it with a note saying 'eat well with your hands' before I left.

Best. Revenge. Ever.

Frankly, that was the first time I ever lied in months. I won't say that I'm not a liar, but I can say with full honesty that I don't feel good when I lie, hence why I try to avoid lying by dodging or saying half-truths.

[Thank you, Jergo.] I extended a hand for him and he shook it. [This means a lot to me.]

He grunted with a nod, then he took the folded pants and boxers in hand before extending it to me. Thanks, man.

I received the shirt Meiling folded before I asked, [Thanks. Where do I change?]

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

I opened the walk-in closet door and I walk out feeling like a new man, smiling and stretching like no tomorrow. Damn, that bone crackle felt good.

"How are they?" Meiling asked. "Jergo's anxious to know."

The guy just gave her a stare for that.

[It's great!] Lemme do a handstand here aaaand do the splits! There we go! Look at how the orange pants shift, everybody! [It's so flexible and comfortable, I feel like wearing it everyday.]

"Hey, Eman, hold still!"

What? What!?

"Alley-oop!" Whoa! I felt somebody jump above in-between my split legs!

*slam!*

Oh, I was right. I can see Marisa's shoes slamming against the ceiling and hanging there. Oh dear, she's leaning up and waving at me with a sunshiny smile. "Sup!"

[If you had slammed against my butt, I would've been so mad.] Cartwheel to the side and go back to a standing position. I loved how the cloth stretches on my pants there when I did that. Even my shirt didn't slide down and expose my stomach. It's clinging on to me comfortably. This is perfect parkour threads, dude! [That was a nice jump though, so good work.] Gimme a fist bump, sister.

*Fist bump*

"Yeah~"
[Yeah~]

"Don't have fun just yet, you are forgetting a few more others." Meiling told. Okay, what did I forget?

Oh, the shoes. Right. [Damn, are these remade or repaired?] They looked so damn fresh and clean as if I had just newly bought them. Squeaky clean too, made the sound when I rubbed them together.

"Remade." Meiling answered. She gestured to Jergo, "It was fortunate for Jergo to find the materials to replicate the original."

Hmm….

[How'd you know the original design?] I asked.

"We remember."

…that's it? You just look at it once and you'll remember it?

….that's awesome.

[Right.] I fished something out on the inside of both shoes and I managed to pull out a pair of black cotton socks. Nice! Calf-length too. My favorite. [Convenient.]

Okay, after putting on the socks and shoes, tying a knot that won't make it slip off easily while I free-roam, I hopped a little and tested them. Hmm, the bounce feels good…and adequate. They're quite light too, makes me feel like I'm only wearing my socks if I'm not looking. They're flexible enough that they bend well when I do a scooping motion with my foot. How good is its traction?

Let's test it on the wall.

No need for a running start, I just go for it. Do a little jog towards the nearest wall, and when you get close to it, you boost the momentum and run upwards. Making 2 steps in, I jump off and land with a smooth roll. Momentum hop included. I didn't have to use my hands. With me this happy and energetic, I feel like I could do these things expert level.

The traction was decent. I'm keeping it.

[Once again, Jergo, thank you.] How many times do I have to say that before I run out of breath? This guy has done so much for me and I'm really starting to feel bad.

"There's still one more, Comrade." Meiling told. Aw, geez. I'm gonna feel horrible now. What is it this time? She reached behind her back and held it out to me.

Oh.

[My knife.] My good black knife. I gently peeled it off her hands and held it in mine. The familiar grip was actually comforting, and it gave me a touch of security and confidence. It made me feel like I'll be able mess the fuck out of anybody who wanna hurt me or mah friends.

"Hrgh." Okay, I nearly jumped when I felt something crawling up to my leg but it was just Jergo. Hanging on to my knee with his small but clutching legs, I think he's strapping something to my right thigh. Oh, it's the holster. And it doesn't look old anymore! It's even done with metal clips and tight locks, unlike my old one with knots and tying due to the straps being withered and already snapped.

As he hopped off, I gently slide the blade down to its proper place. It fit so snugly. I could also angle the holster either vertically or diagonally. I picked diagonally so it'll be easy to pull out with a reverse grip. I never had that with my original strap before.

When I quickly whip it out like a quick draw, it came out smoothly.

[Yeah….]

"Ya enchant that one too?" Marisa asked to Jergo.

He shook his head with a grunt, "He don't use knife. He use hands."

"Jergo simply cleaned it up, sharpened the blade, and polished the metal." Meiling informed. "But he did increase its endurance. That way, Eman will have to suffer a thousand battles with his knife before it becomes dull."

I can see that. Look at the sharp edge of the blade, it's shining and looks like it'll cut through the tissue, through the muscle, through the rib cage and puncture the heart without needing much strength. And look at the flat of the metal, man. It's so clean, I can see my face on it. Hello, stranger.

Now I'll holster you back here, there you go, nice and snug. Then I button the strap around the hilt to make sure it doesn't fly off whenever I run. Then I switch the angle to vertical, I'm not in a fight anyway. But when shit goes down, it'll be bleeding time to the diagonals.

Sigh…..

I turned around and faced the two. [That's it?]

Jergo nodded while Meiling says, "Indeed."

Then for the very last time, but this time in their zone. Hands to the side, then bow the upper body. Make sure the head is below the person I thank. "Thank you very much. If anything, I wish I could repay all your efforts in this very instant to make it all even between us."

Meiling giggled while Jergo gave a rather approving nod, as if he judged my gesture and thought I did it correctly. "The truth, comrade, is that we are the ones making it even." Jergo nodded in agreement, "While the mistress has been gone while we were left to guard the building, we failed to do that. Due to the lack of diligence and competence in our work, You, Marisa…." Then she sighed sadly. Jergo looked rather forlorn as he looked away. "…and Ms. Flan paid the price for our mistakes." Then she looked back straight to my eyes and gestured to the threads I wore. "This is the least we could do as an apology."

Jergo then bowed the same way I did. "Apology."

So did Meiling. "I beg your forgiveness, the both of you."

…sigh…

…so deep…

These two aren't human, and they do these things.

Sigh….this is different. I forgave a lot of people before, and I sometimes brush off their apologies because I think it wasn't warranted or obligated. I just think they didn't do anything wrong because I understood the situation. My head tend to rationalize these things rather easily and conclude the most sensible reasons to NOT fault them. Some other times, I just feel forgiving.

But this time, it's different. They are to blame, they are at fault, and they need to apologize. As a gatekeeper, it is your duty to keep intruders out. As a resident of the building, it is your duty to watch over it. Then the bullshit in the library happened, because nobody else was there to handle it...except Marisa. And look what kind of good that did; it nearly got her killed.

"It's fine." Marisa was the one to wave them off, not me. "I got me somethin' to remember it by, anyway." She patted her left side, and winked at me.

I gave her a smile. She's strong, just like me. She doesn't let traumas pull her down. It's one of the reasons why people call me hardheaded. I just don't learn my lesson, even after I broke my bones on it. I use the pain and trauma to teach me, strengthen me, and when I get back, I'll know what to expect. Besides, I'm not afraid of it anymore.

[You can lift up your heads now.] I told them. Once they did, I continued, [As the victim of your failures, I hereby declare the both of you forgiven, from the bottom of my heart.] That was so cheesy, but I just couldn't think up something else even formal. I just don't want to see them bowing to me like that anymore. [Keep this with you always: Thank you for all your efforts to save Marisa, and helping me.]

*Pat. Pat.*

I feel a hand patting my shoulder.

Yes, Marisa?

"Aren't ya forgettin' somebody?"

No, I did not. I fucking did not. I've waited for a chance, and you have given me the prompt.

C'mere, sis.

"Ah."

I embraced her. I removed her hat and placed it on the floor so it didn't get in the way and hugged her tightly. My right hand gently patting the back of her head, my left around her waist and patting there too, I flushed out all of my gratitude to Marisa. With all my heart and with all my soul.

Thank you for touring me around Gensokyo.

Thank you for showing me what a spell card battle looks like.

Thank you for offering me a chance to train with you.

Thank you for being there to save me from Flandre's thirst.

Thank you for beating me up while I was possessed.

Thank you for helping me realize my potential for pyromancy with my emotions.

Thank you for being my partner in the fight.

Thank you for giving me support after telling you of my bad time with women.

Thank you for being there to stop me from murdering Flandre and Meiling.

Thank you for recognizing me when you weren't sure.

Thank you for crying for me.

Thank you for being my friend.

Thank you….thank you for being alive.

I love you, Marisa.

[Do I need to say anything?] I softly asked.

She shook her head on my chest, tightening her embrace on my hips. "Nah. I can already tell what yer gonna say-da ze." She replied just as softly.

Aw, that's sweet. I returned her squeeze and stroked her soft head.

Sometimes, you gotta let your actions do the talking. There aren't many situations where you have do it but when you see it, you gotta take it. That way, the full extent of your feelings will be truly felt, because words fall short of how you truly feel.

That's how I've been showing how I feel to my friends before. I shake their hands because it was nice to see them, I pat their backs because I praise them, I hug them in thanks, and I hand them gifts for every good thing they did to me. That's how we became close, even after the rape incident. I forgive, and I continue to love them. We support each other, all the way until our graduation.

Without me, I hope they're doing okay. They'll have one less violent friend to deal with.

*Knock. Knock.*

The door?

Marisa and I parted, both of us facing the door. She glanced at me, I glanced back at her before we both turned to the door.

[Uh…enter.]

The knob turned, the door is pushed open and—

…..

…..It's Sakuya. I haven't seen you since lunch, girl.

Such an emotionless face you're wearing there.

She turned to Marisa, staring for a little bit before she turned to me, her stare lingering much, much longer. I nearly had the impulse to draw out my knife just in case, or ready the flames to boil in my hands.

After a dozen seconds that almost felt like a minute, she lowered her head, sighing silently before raising it back up and speaking, "Mr. Eman Letitia."

I clenched both my fists. [Yes?] I replied placidly.

"The Mistress wishes to see you….alone." She bowed formally, adding a curtsy. "I will be waiting outside to escort you."

Then she closed the door.

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

….…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..

[Hrrrrgggghhhhhh….!]

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If you wanna know how Eman sang that shit, go to youtube and type The Cat Above and the Mouse Below from Tom and Jerry.

Best episode since I was 10 years old.