Chapter 27 — All the Single Ladies / No Girls Allowed
February gave way to March, and March both came and went like a lamb. The Justice Diary would occasionally update with the activity of a few petty criminals, but nothing so difficult as Little Caesar rose again. The criminal underbelly was still gurgling and trying to digest the void Kira's absence created.
In the meantime, Yuri and Yomotsu and Mercy were able to spend more time with each other, whether in pairs or in their group of three. Each pair was its own separate creature: Yomotsu and Yuri were the original flavor, the classic, the foundation—likened best, perhaps, to a salty and sweet combination. Their differences highlighted the overall blend. Yuri and Mercy were zesty, rich in flavor, a bit bold—resembling a chili and lime combination. They were able to indulge their mutual interests and fandoms in ways that, especially in Yuri's case, they were normally not comfortable delving into around other people. They listened to visual kei and watched guilty pleasure anime and talked about their emotions.
This was not to say that Yomotsu and Mercy did not explore their quirkier sides around each other—they did, most certainly. However, that is not the strongest flavor. Together, they were peanut butter and jelly. Sometimes one was more dominant than the other; sometimes the combination was sweet, and sometimes it just stuck to the roof of the mouth. When together, though, there was a sense of warmth and nostalgia. It provoked questions such as—why would jelly even exist, if not for peanut butter? Does peanut butter have much of a purpose, except for to be with jelly?
Of course, jelly could go on toast and be delicious. Peanut butter was excellent with crackers, and some crazy people think it tastes great on celery. However, when put together, such a perfect combination is made that it seems like the most obvious, most delicious combination.
At any rate, on the night they faced Little Caesar, all of the flavors were present: peanut butter and jelly, salty and sweet, chili and lime. Those flavors were set against cheesy pizza and prevailed, thanks to the utilization of a new flavor—yet, as they were to find out, a flavor new to none of them at all.
Anemone—a woman connected to each of them.
The first connection was discovered that night, and it was only a "discovery" for the two confused male heroes. When Anemone appeared in her full-body blue vinyl costume, with her green getup, neither the 12th nor Lunatic had a clue who she was. Mercy, however, knew her as a recent friend she made on an Internet superhero board. There were discussion threads on the activities in Graceville, and Anemone showed particular interest. Soon Mercy, under her username XxOMGJusticexX, was arranging a meeting between her and the slightly older woman.
Mercy must have been amazed to learn that Anemone was an actual hero with NEXT powers. In her heroine's attire, she wore bright green boots, gloves, and a matching cape. There was a vibrant purple stripe going down the length of each arm and each leg, which added to the cluster of bright colors. Her mask was a shiny, red, and resembled a ball room mask. A pink band going from each end of the mask fastened it to her head.
This was her only appearance in February, and in March, there was no necessity for her to help out. Yomotsu and Yuri had a lot of questions about her, but Mercy was short on answers. She and Anemone kept their conversations centered around the activity of the 12th and Lunatic in Graceville, and little about the heroine's personal life leaked into the conversation.
Mercy kept telling Yuri and Yomotsu this, but neither was willing to give up on their curiosity easily or quickly. When March was half over and they spent an increased amount of time hanging out, the three finally moved on to subjects other than the Little Caesar encounter.
Yomotsu was lying down on Mercy's bed, when she asked him how he was doing, "because you haven't been yourself lately."
He shrugged and nestled himself a deeper spot in the pillows stacked under his head. "Who have I been like?"
She started sifting through her records, either organizing them or just looking through them. "I dunno. Just not Yomotsu or Hiro. You've been… Quiet."
She never asked him why he went around as Hiro. She just said "oh" when he first told her in December, and talked a little bit about how his name reminded her of the dungeon in Persona 4. That was it. Maybe she just figured everyone has their secrets, or maybe she just did not care. But how could she not care, really?
"Quiet?" He repeated. He scrunched his nose. "Perhaps that is a nice change. Yuri always did say I talk too much."
"Does he say that anymore?"
"Well," Yomotsu rubbed his forehead. "I guess not."
"Well, there you go." She was definitely not just in her underwear this time. He could hear her scratching her arm through her shirt, and he could occasionally hear her skirt brush up against her leg. "So, what's bringing you down?"
"I don't know what you mean," Yomotsu said. "I've been pretty happy lately. I've been hanging out with you and Yuri so much lately, I just got a raise at Yum Yums, and—" He was about to bring up how little crime there was, but he remembered that she did not know his identity as the 12th. "And, you know I've been having fun."
"Not as much fun as you could be, as much as you should be," she insisted. She pulled a vinyl out of its sleeve and blew away some particles on it. "You're not living 100%. And the Yomotsu I know does most things at least 100%." He could hear her gently brush off the record with her thumb.
"There's a knot in my chest." Yomotsu was speaking slowly. "Remember what I told you about Meilag, that weird conversation we had in February?"
Mercy slid the record back into its spot and stepped toward her CD collection. "Yeah?"
"I don't know why it's been bothering me so much, really…"
"Mmhm." She opened up a CD case with one hand and, with the other, opened her CD player.
"I don't want to die." He had not told her the whole story, of course. He had not told her about Meilag figuring out that he's the 12th. He just gave her all of the information that did not involve his identity as a man who runs around in black tights and wears a giant eyeball mask while fighting crime. He never mentioned, then, that he was her hero.
"Yeah," she said.
She hit a button, and "All the Single Ladies (Put a Ring on it)" started playing really loudly in Mercy's room.
"Okay," she said. "Come on. Get up."
Yomotsu stirred a little. "Huh? What?"
"You're getting up. And you're going to dance."
He barely moved. "Why am I going to do that?"
She bent over and found his hand. Her smaller, colder hand clasped his, and she pulled him up so that he was now sitting upright on the bed. "Because, your momma gave you something to shake."
Yomotsu moaned, "My momma went insane and then died, preoccupied with the thought of me being left to die by my father."
"And that is why you really need to get up and dance with me!" Mercy pulled him up completely with one giant, sustained tug. He adapted and found his balance on the bed. She stood on the bed with him, still holding his hand.
"All the single ladies, all the single ladies
All the single ladies, all the single ladies
All the single ladies, all the single ladies
All the single ladies
Now put your hands up
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Oh, oh, oh."
During the last week of March, Meilag pulled Craig aside and informed him that one of the other employees was shoplifting. When the coworker was caught on film, he was fired—Monty, a full time shelf-stocker. His remaining shifts were split between the other backroom workers, especially those more willing to help out or earn some extra cash for the week.
Yomotsu was not supposed to be working, but he picked up one of Monty's shifts. This disappointed Yuri and Mercy; they were hoping to go with him to see the latest installment in /Insert Popular Film Series here/. Now it was just the two of them, awkwardly sitting in the Hirasaka-Petrov residence, tapping their hands against their knees and flipping through the channels.
"Yomotsu is better suited for making good plans," Yuri sighed. He was wearing a dark blue suit and black tie. His hair was up in a ponytail.
"Well, right, but we should still be able to have fun without him…" Mercy was looking around the room for ideas. She was leaning forward in the couch, elbows on her knees, hands cradling her chin. She was wearing a camo blouse and khakis. Her socks were fuzzy and green.
"We often do," Yuri agreed. "But even then, he is usually the one who comes up with ideas for us. Like last week, he suggested that we go to the Justice dans l'histoire et dans l'art Museum that opened up. I had not even heard of it, and you said you forgot all about it. Such is the way of Yomotsu… Even when he cannot physically be with us, he attends to our needs."
Mercy nodded. "But today he is doing a really sucky job, because I have no idea what we should do."
Yomotsu chuckled. "It appears there's a marathon of The Golden Girls on."
"What do you and Yomotsu usually do when I'm not around?" Mercy asked flatly.
Yuri shrugged. "Just… Ah, how shall I put it—? We don't do anything in particular, really. We are dreadfully boring people."
Mercy had a hard countenance. "You two are not at all boring. So, what—you just do guy stuff?"
Yuri squinted his eyes and looked off into space. "I suppose… You could say that. Although what regularly constitutes 'guy stuff,' I could scarcely say…"
Mercy stood up. She clapped her hands. "Then we'll just do guy stuff."
"Huh?"
"Guy stuff!" Mercy repeated, lowering her fist so he could bump it with his own.
"What exactly do you have in mind?" Yuri asked suspiciously, almost groggily, as though waking up from a slumber and finding something unusual in the room.
"I don't know," she said. "Just guy stuff."
"Like?"
"Like weight lifting," Mercy proposed.
Yuri frowned. "You think Yomotsu and I…? You think we lift weights in our spare time?"
"How else can Yomotsu keep up his rugged figure?"
"…Right. But even if that is the case, I know for certain that I have never lifted weights with him before, so I would scarcely know where to find them…"
"And I can't very well just barge around and start looking for them," Mercy continued. "But you can very well barge around—would he normally mind if you snooped in his room for weights?"
"I cannot say the situation has ever come up," Yuri conceded. "But for the sake of Yomotsu's privacy, I will not invade his room."
"Then," Mercy struggled. "Uhh… We could eat lots of burgers. That's manly."
Yuri groaned. "You are a vegetarian, and even if either of us normally ate burgers, I am not in the slightest bit hungry."
"Neither am I, but sometimes sacrifices need to be made, if one intends to be manly. You can't eat just when you're hungry; you eat when your masculine instincts order you, in a gruff voice, to eat."
"Surely you don't think that men are like ani—"
"Growl, Yuri. GRRRR. Growl. I have heard that growling, for sustained periods, can make you hungrier."
"…I have never heard of that, and I am certain that is not a purpose of growling…"
"GRRRRRRR!"
Mercy was clawing at the air.
"You are looking less and less manly by doing things like that."
"Well, what do you want me to do? Start farting?"
"Excuse me?"
"Guys love farting. I bet you and Yomotsu fart all the time."
Yuri rose, shaking his head. "I think you have the wrong idea."
"I mean, I don't mind farting, honestly."
"Mercy, I don't want to spend my time today farting with you. Being a man isn't about lifting weights, eating large quantities of meat, or making loud bodily noises."
"What is it about?"
He saw her genuine curiosity and, with a smirk, answered, "It has everything to do with poise."
Mercy frowned. "That sounds awful… Aristocratic, lofty, not to mention just plain stupid. I'm beginning to think—"
Yuri cleared his throat and explained, "It's also about style, and it's about class."
"Style makes sense, but 'class'… I don't know, it makes me think of the patriarchy, and I don't want to support the patriarchy…"
"Alright, alright. I have an idea."
She let him continue.
"It is more of a solitary sport, and Yomotsu does not know I enjoy it, but…"
"Yes?"
"Have you ever whittled before?"
"I think I've heard of it before. It's like… Carving, right?"
"Correct, but, ah, how you show your inexperience with such a definition! Whittling is so much more. There is something special in the sacred relationship between the knife, its wielder, and the wood being trimmed. It hones in on patience, one of a man's most defining characteristics. The carver must devote intimate detail to the wood, and if one cuts too much away or cuts too deep, the art is lost."
Mercy was bored even with the description. "It reminds me of how old ladies do puzzles or how sissy women crochet or sew. We are trying to manly men—we don't have time for patience or intimate details! We need aggression!"
"Agression? I suppose we could watch some wrestling or sports on TV."
Mercy put her hands to hips and laughed deeply. She ran over to the living room and grabbed the small vase on the table. She pointed toward front door.
"Only women watch sports on TV. Real men play sports. And we're real men, no girls allowed! HA HA HA!"
She began to toss it between her right hand and her left hand, and Yuri watched and cringed. "Mercy, that was a gift from a friend of mine…"
"It's a tacky gift, the kind of gift a girl might like! I mean, little tigers on it? It's cute. It's dumb."
Yuri, a little bit frightened of what might happen if he did not humor her, went toward the door.
They went to the front lawn, and Yuri watched as she immediately stooped down to get some dirt on her thumb. It was a warm March, and the soil was moist. She smeared some dirt under each eye.
"We're going to play catch!" Mercy roared.
Yuri gulped. "I have not done this since I played with my father, and that was quite a long time ago…"
Mercy laughed. "What is this? You are worried you might not catch the ball?" He looked at the vase. It really was a ball already in her mind. "What are you, a female?"
Yuri clenched his jaw. He knew that if he just appeased her for a bit, she might snap out of this. He might still be able to save the vase. He narrowed his eyes. "Let me show you how a real man plays catch!"
Mercy threw the vase at him, and it revolved beautifully in the air. Its narrow, open-end was hurtling toward Yuri, and he snatched it by the neck. He then, after patting the vase affectionately, released a throw back to Mercy.
She caught it with her left hand. "You can aim, but that's a rather wimpy throw. Didn't your father teach you to throw harder than that?" She threw it back at him with gusto.
He caught it, but on his mind were her words. "You don't know anything about my father!" Yuri snarled and released the ball—but he released it as an afterthought, with little awareness of what he was doing. He had, in the brief burst of anger, ignited the vase, which now was a blue-green shooting star.
Mercy caught it with both hands and was about to throw it back when the fire brought her back to her senses. She looked down at the vase, screamed, and dropped it immediately. The vase shattered on the lawn, and the fire thankfully died out before it could spread over the lawn.
Yuri ran over to Mercy, who was looking at her hands. "Are you alright?" He placed his hand on his shoulder, and she recoiled. "Y-yeah," she said, in a little panic. "But, but I need to run my hands through cold water…"
He ran ahead of her, to open the door for her. She went to the kitchen and turned the faucet on and the water to cold. She held her hands under the stream, and Yuri watched from the door, which he closed behind him.
"Mercy…"
Her head was low. If she was saying anything, he could not hear it over the sound of the faucet.
"Mercy, I—"
"That was a good throw." She lifted her head up and turned to smile at him. "That was a good throw, Yuri." She dried her hands off on the towel sitting, bunched-up on the kitchen counter. "But now I think I should get to pick what we do next."
Yuri nodded. "Yes, I think that would be best." He noticed she did not wipe away the dirt from her face, but he figured that maybe she just had forgotten about it.
"I've always wanted to go geocaching. That's manly, right?"
He smiled. "Of course," he said, not that it really mattered.