Fusion Cuisine – Part XII: Bitter Aftertaste
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Little Witch Academia. All LWA-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio Trigger and Yoh Yoshinari.
[-]
Luna Nova Academy
Seventeen Years Ago
Two witches strolled down the hallways of the magical school they'd once called home, drawing stares from each of the students they passed.
After all, they were both a couple years too old to pass as seniors.
"Croix, I know you said you had some big lead," spoke one of the witches, her vibrant red hair bouncing up and down as she struggled to keep up with her companion. "But why are we back at Luna Nova?"
"Because it has the third or fourth best magical research library in the entire world," said the other, pushing her glasses up higher on her face as she continued her long, purposeful strides. If she noticed people were staring, she gave no sign that she cared. "And the others are in places we aren't getting into without some serious security clearance."
Chariot du Nord nodded quickly in understanding, but that was all she had time for as she huffed and puffed after the lilac-haired witch.
Keeping up with Croix Meridies had been a lot easier, literally and figuratively, before her post-graduation growth spurt.
There were, of course, advantages. Like the fact that when she was trailing behind Croix like this, she was able to get a perfect glimpse of her shapely…
Chariot shook her head vigorously, forcing that thought back into the gutter where it belonged. She'd decided not to do anything about…those feelings before graduation, or in the two years since. So she didn't deserve to indulge in them now.
(No matter how much those legs made her want to.)
"Wait…are alumni even allowed in the school library?" asked Chariot, the question occurring to her just in time for Croix to tap the double-doors with her wand, causing them to swing open.
"Technically no, at least without faculty permission. But their 'security measures' were child's play to crack," Croix said offhandedly. Her eyes darted quickly from one side to the other, before slipping through the doorway and gesturing for Chariot to follow. "And as long as we don't run into any of the old hags who actually care, that should be the end of it."
There seemed to be a couple of holes in her friend's logic, but Chariot nodded all the same, letting her be led by the hand straight to the library's restricted section.
…And only a little because of how soft that hand felt in hers.
"What are we looking for, specifically?" added Chariot, once she successfully forced the flush back out of her cheeks.
Croix rolled her eyes. "Well I know we never got a full translation for the Seventh Word from that bitch Woodward. But after months of painstaking research, I've successfully decoded one part: 'dream.' We need dream magic, Chariot. And I know there's a book in here that'll tell us just where to find some."
"I mean…well, all the other Words came out of me, like…learning life lessons and stuff…" mumbled the redhead, twiddling her thumbs nervously. "Wouldn't it be the same for…?"
But Croix cut her off by making a dismissive noise with her tongue.
"This is different. The Seventh Word of Arcturus is the one that actually opens the Grand Triskelion," she said. "It's not gonna be as simple as 'believing in your heart' or whatever insipid drivel you've been vomiting out at those silly shows of yours. We need some real magic if we're gonna have any hope of finally pulling this off."
Chariot shrunk back a few inches, trying not to let her face betray how much that hurt to hear.
Truthfully, a large part of why she'd never tried to take things "further" with Croix was…well, this. She loved her best friend, truly. In more ways than one.
But she could be genuinely cruel at times, her barbs going far beyond lighthearted ribbing and straight into much darker territory. And those times had grown more and more frequent as the search for the Seven Words dragged on.
Their progress had always advanced in fits and starts, often going months without even the faintest twinkle from the Shiny Rod. Much to Croix's frequent, and very vocal, consternation.
Still, by the time they'd graduated together, six of the Seven Words had been unlocked. Surely, now that they were adult witches with no restrictions on their magic, the final one would be only matter of time, right?
Yet in the two years that followed, the most Chariot could say they'd accomplished was driving Croix's love of prepackaged cup ramen into a full-blown addiction. Outside of rare ventures like these, the bespectacled witch tended to spend her days lately holed up in her room-slash-lab, furiously researching one dead-end lead after the next.
Even though they lived together, the most Chariot saw of her some days was a flash of lilac hair as she swept into the bathroom or tossed out another pile of stained ramen cups, before retreating into her research even more.
In the face of that, was it any wonder she'd begun to devote more and more time to her stage shows? What'd started out as a fun little street performance here or there had ballooned into an entire career on its own, complete with sold-out arenas, screaming children, and more merchandise than she could count. "Shiny Chariot" was rapidly becoming a household name.
But Croix didn't care. To her, all the glitz and glam was nothing more than a distraction. A whole mess of nonsense keeping Chariot from focusing on her rightful mission of restoring magic.
And yes, maybe in an objective sense, that was more important. But it'd always been Croix's goal, not hers. Five years on, she still wasn't sure why she was the one Woodward had chosen.
Most importantly, though…
Nobody in her show career had ever made her feel as small as Croix did at times like these.
"Found it!" the other witch suddenly exclaimed, breaking Chariot out of her reverie. She was brandishing a book that looked about as old as the school itself, fingers clenched around one of its yellowing pages. "The Tome of Uwiaf has a comprehensive list of every major spirit in the world. Look at this one."
Chariot wasn't sure where her friend was going with this, but leaned forward and read the passage all the same.
The Yumei no Seirei, or "dream spirit," is a yōkai native to the Edo region, known today as the city of Tokyo.
Its favorite food is the dreams of the living. After they are consumed within its jaws, they are corrupted, producing nightmares.
Most commonly, the Yumei no Seirei is depicted as a wizened old man, wrapped in a white cloak and using a cane. Its form is legless, the lower body dissipating into hollow mist.
Like most yōkai, this spirit has largely faded from the world as magic becomes less and less a part of it. Magic is considered by scholars to give dreams their "flavor," and in its absence, many of the Yumei no Seirei simply starved.
But there is at least one known exception. An especially powerful spirit, which had gorged itself for centuries on the dreams of nobles and emperors. This one, it was said, refused to die.
Unable to deal with it any other way, witches employed by the Japanese government sealed the Yumei no Seirei into a Ring of Ouroboros, which was built into urban Tokyo in the post-World War II period.
The exact nature and location of the Ring is a state secret, for if this spirit were ever to be freed…
The dreams of all who dwell on Earth would be in grave peril.
"So, Cherry…" said Croix, as soon as Chariot's face blanched over the final line. "Fancy a trip to the Land of the Rising Sun?"
[-]
Chariot had a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach the entire way to Tokyo.
All attempts to convince Croix that going after a spirit whose description ended in "grave peril" might not be the best idea in the world fell on deaf ears. Not that she expected otherwise. Once Croix set her mind to something, there was nothing anyone could say or do to dissuade her.
Especially not a "dunce" like Chariot.
So she elected to keep her mouth shut and follow her roommate's instructions. If nothing else, she figured they stood more of a chance facing the spirit together, than if she allowed Croix to run off on her own.
And heck, maybe it'd even work. Once they unlocked the Seventh Word, this stupid burden of a mission would be over with, and Chariot could go back to doing what she loved. And Croix…
Maybe Croix would go back to being the girl Chariot had fallen in love with.
"I've been cross-referencing both mundane and magical maps to try and identify where the Ring of Ouroboros might be located, but no luck so far," said the lilac-haired witch, typing rapidly on her palm-top computer. In the year 2004, such devices were only just beginning to come into vogue, but Croix's custom-built one was easily the most powerful in the world. "I did pick up one major lead, though. The identity of one of the witches who participated in the sealing."
"And is that why we're here, of all places?" Chariot asked, fumbling nervously as they passed into a neighborhood of sprawling mansions and estates. After the bus ride they'd just taken through urban Tokyo, where space was at a premium and apartments were packed together like sardines, this level of opulence seemed almost obscene.
"Japan treated its government-sponsored witches very well after the war. They were major celebrities…like someone else I could mention," explained Croix, a tinge of bitterness entering her voice at those last words. "We're heading to the home of Shira Hasuno. Better known over here as the White Lotus Witch."
Chariot stopped in her tracks. She'd flunked Modern Magical History pretty badly, but even she had heard of a name that famous. More than one interviewer had actually compared their performance styles.
Either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring her friend's discomfort, Croix strolled straight up to the gates enclosing the largest of the estates. She placed her hands on the finely crafted wood, eyes moving up and down, as if sizing up whether she could leap over it.
"Wait, wait!" exclaimed Chariot, belatedly rushing to catch up. "You can't just break into a place like this! Someone as famous as her is bound to have…guards! Alarms! Probably magical security too!"
"I know," said Croix with a shrug. She lifted her miniature computer to eye level. "That's why I just disabled it all with this. No one's gonna catch us, Cherry, don't worry."
As much as that nickname usually left Chariot weak in the knees, at times like this it just made her want to crawl under a rock and not come out.
Meanwhile, Croix was climbing on top of another of her strange inventions: a broom-substitute that resembled a small metal disc. It ascended with a wave of her wand, carrying the lilac-haired witch over the gate.
Chariot saw the faint flickering of protective wards flare to life as Croix passed over the threshold. But whatever magitronic "hacking" she'd performed held strong, as the barrier dissipated into nothing a moment later.
Seeing no other choice, Chariot sighed and joined the other witch in breaking and entering. She didn't even need to use her broom, as her aptitude for strengthening magic made climbing by hand a simple enough task.
She found Croix surveying the grounds with yet another magitronic device: one that resembled a pair of binoculars, but which likely had a great deal more going on within.
"Jackpot," she muttered to herself with a smug grin, just as Chariot caught up to her. "Lounging out by her private pool, and not a single other soul in sight. This couldn't be easier."
"And, uh…just so we're clear…" said Chariot, swallowing audibly. "We're just gonna talk to her, right? Find out what she remembers about that spirit?"
She didn't like the clouded look that briefly overtook her friend's eyes. Nor the vaguely sinister way she answered, "Depends on how much she does remember."
Shira Hasuno, it transpired, was far too intent on sunbathing to notice their approach. She was an older woman, maybe in her early seventies, with long green hair and painted lips. Once upon a time, she must've been a world-class beauty, but now her pale skin bulged and sagged in a number of unflattering places. Nonetheless, she wore a two-piece bikini and wide-brimmed hat, along with sunglasses large enough to hide almost half her face.
"White lotus flowers on your swimsuit?" Croix called out, in lieu of an actual greeting. "And they call me self-involved."
The older witch tilted her head a few inches in their direction, but otherwise gave no indication that she'd heard them, not even lifting her sunglasses.
Then, in a voice marred by the scratchiness of smoker's lung, she croaked, "I really need to hire better security."
[-]
After a bit of back and forth, Hasuno seemed to decide that calling someone to get them escorted out was more trouble than it was worth. Instead, she had the two younger witches sit to the side and put them on alcohol duty.
And Shira Hasuno was clearly very fond of her alcohol.
"Those certainly were the days," she said in a slightly slurred drawl, red tinging her pale cheeks as Chariot reluctantly refilled her glass. "Jetting around the world, righting wrongs, getting all that good press. Suits in the Diet couldn't throw money at us fast enough. Neither could the fans, especially the male ones."
The saucy wink she added to punctuate the point sent a chill up Chariot's spine. And not just because she was a lesbian.
"But of course, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows behind the scenes," added Hasuno, her voice souring in an instant. "Akari, Aoi, and I never got along quite as well as we pretended for the cameras. At first, it was mostly just friendly rivalry. Challenging each other on who could slay more demons or exorcise more yōkai, that sort of thing."
"What happened, then?" asked Croix.
"What always happens in this kind of story. Fame, fortune, the press," she told the pair, hiccupping between large gulps of wine. "It stopped being all fun and games. We were all hot commodities, raking in mountains of cash. But I was the real talent in the group, and we all knew it."
"You decided to strike out on your own," Chariot guessed.
"What did you expect? Those bitches were holding me back," said Hasuno sharply. "Besides, they were a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later the paparazzi was gonna figure out their dirty little secret. I wasn't going down in flames just because those dykes couldn't keep their hands off each other."
Chariot was grateful to see Croix join her in wincing at the slur. She decided she really didn't like this woman very much.
"I mean, don't get me wrong. Touring gets lonely, I understand that. But when I fooled around, I always had the sense to keep it on the down-low," she continued on, oblivious to her audience's discomfort. "But you need to keep in mind, this was Japan in the fifties. Careers like ours have ended over a lot less. Idiots…what were they even thinking…"
"So this adventure with the Yumei no Seirei," Croix talked over the older woman before she could say anything even more insensitive. "Was that before or after you split away from Akari and Aoi?"
"It was our last mission together as a trio, funnily enough," answered Hasuno, waving a hand dismissively as if the story of sealing a centuries-old yōkai was something barely worth remembering. "Our government handlers back in the day used to have a 'threat scale' for how important a given mission was. A one was saving a cat out of a tree. A ten was saving Tokyo from a rampaging dragon. They called this one an eleven."
She added a conspiratorial eyebrow waggle, like she was sharing a particularly juicy bit of gossip.
Chariot hadn't been sure up until that point how Croix was getting this retired old witch to spill her secrets to a couple of strangers – apart from the fact that she was blind stinking drunk – but now she was pretty sure she understood. By this point in her life, Hasuno's "glory days" were likely dwarfed by the succeeding decades. There was clearly a large part of her that was eager for any excuse to relive them.
And if Hasuno was a fish with her mouth wide open, then Croix was an expert fisherwoman, letting out just enough line to reel her in further and further. "Really? You have to tell us more," said the lilac-haired witch, unable to keep the satisfied grin from her face as the story at last reached the part she'd been waiting for.
"Well this was supposed to be the biggest, baddest dream spirit ever to exist. Powerful enough to give nightmares to half of Japan," explained the Japanese woman. "The way we were told, he'd been asleep since around the Meiji Restoration. But the bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki sent major shockwaves through the leylines. Basically a wakeup call for a lot of ancient magic."
Hasuno held up an empty bottle – one among many – to illustrate her next point.
"Enter Kaito Chiba. Leader of an extremist faction in the Japanese military," she continued, shaking the bottle so that the little dregs of liquor at the bottom sloshed around. "They opposed their government's surrender to the Allies after the bombings. With no way of getting their way with mundane means, they turned to the next best thing."
"Magic," Chariot murmured, already feeling a deep sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the direction this tale was heading.
Hasuno nodded once. "The Yumei no Seirei wasn't exactly putting a lot of effort into hiding himself back then," she replied. "Chiba found him, and struck a bargain. The spirit would invade the dreams of every 'occupying' westerner. Drive them all mad with unceasing nightmares, until they either left Japan for good…or perished in agony. Leaving Chiba with the 'pure' Japan he'd so long desired."
There was something more than a little off-putting by the fact that Croix looked eager, rather than horrified, as she demanded, "And in exchange?"
"Chiba and his group would give up their own dreams. To be devoured whole by their new god," said Hasuno, confirming Chariot's darkest suspicions. "To them, their cause was worth the price. Worth any price."
Okay, now there was no mistaking it. Croix was really getting into the story now. The expression on her face wasn't one Chariot had ever seen before.
But she knew it scared her.
"Our mission was simple. Neutralize Chiba and his faction, before they could make contact with the spirit. By any means necessary," added Hasuno, who was clearly relishing the chance to tell this part just as much as Croix was hearing it. "And that's exactly what we did. Chiba's men were tough, but no match for three witches. Soon enough we had Chiba on the ground, begging for mercy like a pitiful dog. Except…"
"Except?" Croix repeated in a whisper.
"Except Aoi wouldn't pull the damn trigger. Metaphorically speaking," the old woman all but spat. "We'd killed demons and dragons and surprisingly powerful slimes, but never a fellow human being. Taken down a few criminals here and there, sure. Foiled a bank robbery or a carjacking. But never when the standing order was 'leave no witnesses.'"
Hasuno's knuckles turned white as she clenched her fist. "That moment of hesitation was all it took. One of Chiba's goons got the drop on her and shot her in the back," she said. "And of course, Akari insisted on staying behind, trying to save her secret girlfriend. Leaving me alone to chase after Chiba."
"Since I didn't hear about any of this in the history books…" Croix spoke up, stroking her chin thoughtfully with her finger. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he didn't succeed."
"No, but it was a near miss," responded Hasuno with a sigh. "Bastard managed to summon the Yumei no Seirei and was all set to make his wish. So I…I did something I'm not proud of. But if I hadn't, thousands of people could've died. So it was worth it."
"And what was that, exactly?" asked Croix, her lip curling dangerously.
Chariot saw the look of hesitation on the old witch's face. As forthcoming as she'd been up until this point, it was obvious this part of the story was a bridge too far.
But then, she witnessed Hasuno's lips creak open, as if being forced apart by a vise. And at the same time, she saw Croix's hand unconsciously run across her pocket, the telltale clink of a glass phial ringing out as she did.
And suddenly, glancing across the numerous discarded liquor glasses Hasuno had guzzled down without a second thought, Chariot understood. Of course Croix had never intended to play fair.
"A truth potion? Really?" she whispered to her best friend.
"You can't say this bitch doesn't deserve it," Croix said back, just as quietly. "Now shut up already. I think she's about to get to the juicy part."
Chariot was about to argue back that being stuck-up, and maybe mildly homophobic, didn't warrant dousing someone with a mind-altering substance without their consent. But the objection died in her throat as Hasuno reluctantly let out exactly what that "juicy part" was.
"I sacrificed them."
Even Croix was momentarily struck speechless by those words. "What…?" was all she could manage to breathe out.
The older witch looked horrified that she'd said even that much, but the way truth potions tended to work was that each spoken truth built into the next, snowballing until it was impossible to halt their momentum. She was completely powerless to stop the flood of dark, buried secrets from pouring forth.
"I didn't have any other choice!" she exclaimed, desperately trying to justify herself even in this state. "The only thing I could think of was…was a sealing spell. But I wasn't nearly powerful enough to do it alone. So I…"
"Stole life-force from your fellow witches," Croix finished for her. "Yeah, guess that'd do it. That's where the Ring of Ouroboros came in, right?"
"We were doing this in urban Tokyo. Not a ton of better options," said Hasuno. "I used the buildings around me to anchor the spell. Twisted them. That's why I needed the extra power. Had to make sure I formed the circle just right. Had to make sure I kept up the Glamour the whole time, so no one'd notice."
Chariot couldn't hold back any longer. "And for that, you killed two people? Your own friends?" she demanded.
"Well it worked, didn't it?!" Hasuno shouted back, without actually refuting the accusation. She couldn't, while under the potion's influence. "I bound that spirit in the earth. Ended Chiba's threat, once and for all. The agency damn sure didn't complain about the results!"
"What did they do, after you came back alone?" asked Croix, somehow managing to remain more-or-less calm despite talking to an admitted killer. "Even if they decided not to throw you in jail for murder, I doubt they handed you a medal."
It seemed she'd touched on a sore spot, because the older witch turned her eyes askance, trying again to zip her mouth shut. Her efforts failed once more, but only after several seconds of visible struggling.
"Higher-ups took over. Complete deniability. Akari and Aoi's families got paid off like kings," she said at last. "The land the Ring was on got redeveloped. Farmed out to as many different buyers as possible."
"Why would they do that…?" Chariot wondered aloud, but it was Croix who answered first.
"Breaks the flow of magic, if it's in a bunch of different hands," she told the redheaded witch. "If just one person owned all the land on it, it'd be easy to tap back into the Ring. Undo the spell."
"I even convinced my niece to bid for one of the plots. She'd married a man who ran a restaurant, and they were looking for larger premises at the time. Pulled some strings so she could pick it up for a song," Hasuno offered unprompted. "That way, I could keep an eye on things on the sly."
The way Croix's eyes lit up at those words sent a chill down Chariot's spine.
"And now we're getting somewhere," she whispered, in a tone Chariot really didn't want to call "sinister" but also was having trouble thinking of a better descriptor. "Where is this restaurant, anyway? What's its name?"
Hasuno's lip trembled, eyes going wide as she realized what she'd just shared.
"I…I shouldn't tell you that," she said, which must've been technically true enough to count. "They swore me to secrecy. I could go to jail. Or worse…"
But Croix wouldn't be deterred. She advanced on Hasuno like a hawk bearing down on prey, seizing the older witch by the shoulders.
"Where the hell is the Ring?" she hissed, shaking Hasuno very hard. "Tell me, you old bitch!"
"Croix! Croix, stop!" yelled Chariot, panic rising in her chest as she watched the scene unfold. She tried to grab at her friend's arm, to pull her back. "Can't you see that she's…?!"
But she was too late. Hasuno's mouth opened into a low-pitched, gasping scream. One hand grasped for the left side of her chest.
She fell out of her chair, convulsing, and then went still.
[-]
Fortunately, the emergency workers believed their story about two random passerbys who happened to overhear an old woman crying out in pain. No one was interested in punishing such "Good Samaritans" over simple trespass.
"So as long as truth potion isn't on their standard drug screen, we should be golden," said Croix after they left the hospital, her lip twitching upward.
Chariot looked at her best friend like she'd grown an extra head. "You're joking about this? Now, of all times?" she all but snapped. "What the hell were you thinking, Croix?"
"You're right," the lilac-haired witch admitted with a sigh. "I should've used a lighter touch until we found out where the Ring was. Dammit, we were so close…"
Chariot couldn't believe what she was hearing. She saw an empty alleyway to their side and hastily pulled Croix into it, to lessen the chances of them being overheard.
"That's what you think you did wrong?!" she half-whispered, half-shouted. "You know what those kinds of potions can do to someone at her age! You're just lucky the heart attack didn't kill her!"
Croix actually had the audacity to roll her eyes.
"You heard the same story I did. She's a cold-blooded murderer, who escaped justice for over fifty years. Who cashed out on her crimes with a mansion and a swimming pool," she replied. "You really gonna waste your time trying to make me feel oh-so-sowwy for that?"
"I am," said Chariot fiercely, not backing down. She was so used to letting Croix get her way whenever they had an argument, but not now. This was too important. "Besides, you didn't know any of that before you dosed her. So don't use it as an excuse."
A vein pulsed dangerously in Croix's forehead.
"Fine. You wanna play that game? Yeah, I would've done it no matter who she was," she shot back. "Because – and this is what you don't fucking get, Chariot – this is more important than either of us! We've got a sacred mission from the Nine Old Witches to carry out. And you…"
She hesitated, just long enough for Chariot to murmur irately, "Finish that sentence. Come on."
"And you're blowing it!" Croix didn't need any further prompting to erupt. "The past two years, I've been toiling away at my research, trying to find something that'll lead us to the Seventh Word. And what've you been doing the whole time? Entertaining snot-nosed brats with parlor tricks."
When Chariot didn't respond immediately, except to glare back with eyes of fierce maroon, the other witch continued, "So excuse me, princess, for jumping on the first break we've gotten since graduation. Anything we do is worth it, if it means bringing magic back to the world!"
Chariot stood there for several minutes, shoulders moving up and down as she seethed. She could count the number of times she'd gotten this angry at Croix on one hand – though the reverse certainly wasn't true.
Finally, she mumbled, "What're you gonna do next, then?"
"I'm not giving up, if that's what you're getting at," said Croix. "Sure, we still don't know exactly where the Ring of Ouroboros is. But there can only be so many circular districts in Tokyo. Trial and error should get us there eventually."
"You keep saying 'we' and 'us.' Do you really expect me to…?" Chariot started to ask.
"Trust me, if I could do this without you, I would," the other witch cut her off.
Somehow, of all the nasty things Croix had just said to her, that was the one that stung most. It was something she'd suspected for a while – that Croix had only stayed with her this long because she was the wielder of the Shiny Rod – but it still hurt to have it confirmed so bluntly.
After a few seconds, however, she saw her friend's harsh features soften.
"Cherry, I…I didn't mean that the way it came out," Croix told her, taking a single step back and looking down at her hands. "All I'm trying to say is…I know this isn't your dream. And that's okay. I just wanna help. Even if I wasn't chosen by the Claíomh Solais, if I can at least…play a part, in opening the Grand Triskelion…"
Chariot felt her breathing and heartrate slowly return to normal. There were still so many things she wanted to yell at the woman who simultaneously frustrated and fascinated her, but anger simply wasn't an emotion that came to her naturally. She couldn't sustain it for long.
So instead, she said, "I still don't get your endgame here. That spirit is dangerous. Hasuno and the book both said so."
"I'm not stupid enough to try freeing it, if that's what you mean," Croix declared, arms crossed in front of her chest. "No, I just wanna poke around the seal, get a 'taste' for its magic. This is the most powerful dream spirit in history. Think of what we could do with even a fraction of its power."
Chariot let out a low, weary sigh. She hated herself for even considering this, and yet…
"Fine, our flights aren't until the end of the week anyway," she breathed out. "Guess it can't hurt to check out a few places. But if we find that restaurant she was talking about, you so owe me a bowl of udon. It's way better than ramen anyway."
The smile that spread over her best friend's face was almost enough to make Chariot forget that she was ever mad at her.
"Oh, those are fighting words, Cherry."
[-]
Unfortunately, the "trial and error" plan turned out to be a lot easier said than done.
The pair of witches searched all across Tokyo, trying to detect traces of the dream magic Croix was so intensely fixated upon, but for all the good it did they might as well have spent that time playing pachinko.
Three days later, the biggest accomplishment they could claim was that Chariot had narrowly managed not to get strangled by a kappa. Albeit, not for lack of trying on the creature's part.
"I really think he was sweet on you, if you want my honest opinion," Croix couldn't help but tease. "Guess they just don't teach 'em how to express their feelings healthily in kappa school."
"Hardy har har," said Chariot dryly, wiping gunk off herself as they trudged back to their hotel room at the end of another, fruitless day. "Look, tomorrow's our last shot. You know that, right?"
The lilac-haired witch shrugged a shoulder. "We can always reschedule the flights," she tossed off.
"No, we can't," Chariot stated insistently. "I've got that show in Bangladesh on Saturday, remember? I only mentioned it like a dozen times."
"So cancel it. Based on what you've told me, your agency can eat the cost and then some," Croix shot back, without looking at her. "I thought we agreed this is a little more important."
More like you agreed, she thought of saying. But she knew that'd only start another argument.
Instead, what she told her friend was, "It's not about the money. It's about not letting my fans down. They're counting on me to give them an incredible show. Something that'll make them feel like I did, the first time that…"
This time, she wasn't quick enough to stop herself from saying something that probably should've stayed in her head.
Because the words that finished that sentence were: "…that you showed me how special magic could really be."
Croix immediately twisted her face in the opposite direction, but before she did Chariot was almost certain she could see a tinge of red in it.
"Umm…when was that, exactly?" the other witch muttered. "Just out of curiosity. Not that it really matters."
"You don't remember?" asked Chariot, frowning slightly. "It was when we first met. You were doing that experiment in the courtyard, and it sorta…blew up in your face…"
"You're exaggerating," said Croix reflexively.
"It literally made the sound 'kaboom.' Like, right out of a cartoon or something," Chariot pushed back in turn. "But yeah…after I made sure that you were okay, and I looked up to the sky at what you made…"
There was a sharp intake of breath. "It was like fireworks. The most beautiful fireworks I'd ever seen in my life," she continued to whisper. "Every color of the rainbow, and a few more I think got freshly invented that day. Light taking shapes and forms that would've been impossible without magic. I close my eyes, and I can still see it. When I'm thinking of inspiration for one of my shows…it's always that night I think about."
Croix was quiet for several moments, her expression unreadable.
Then, in tones just as low, she responded, "You realize none of that was intentional, right? Those 'fireworks' were just the byproduct of an attempt at a magical equivalent to rocket fuel. A failed attempt, might I add."
"Oh yeah, I figured that out a while back," Chariot told her fellow witch. "Didn't make it any less special to me."
Croix, it seemed, had no reply to that. Instead she affixed her gaze resolutely forward and said, "Okay…switching gears. If we've really got only one more day to tackle this…then we've got just one more thread to pull on."
"That niece she mentioned. With the restaurant," Chariot recalled aloud. "But I thought you said you couldn't find anything on her family?"
"And unfortunately, that's still true. Family registries are usually pretty easy to access in Japan, but Shira Hasuno's is locked up tight," spoke the bespectacled witch. "Plus, she said the niece was married. So even if she used to have the surname 'Hasuno,' odds are good it's changed since then."
"Then what other options do we have?" asked Chariot.
Croix sighed and shook her head. "No good ones," she admitted quietly. "But I do have one more idea."
From her cloak, Croix pulled out a long strand of hair. One a very familiar shade of green.
"Is that…?" said Chariot, though she couldn't bring herself to complete the thought. She already knew the answer.
"Familial geomancy. Difficult technique, but I'm sure I can manage it," Croix declared, placing the hair on the ground and using white chalk to draw a complex magical circle around it. "This'll at least narrow down our search. Find any blood relatives of Hasuno's still living on this island."
"Or split it apart with an earthquake!" Chariot exclaimed, hastily scratching out the lines of the circle before her friend could finish. "You know how dangerous that kind of magic is!"
Croix affixed her with a sharp glare, their earlier camaraderie evaporating in an instant.
"You know, if you're not going to do anything useful…" she hissed. "You could at least try not be an active hindrance."
"We can do this without resorting to spells that've been banned in like fifty countries. Including Japan," Chariot said insistently, not moving away from the ruined circle.
The lines of Croix's face grew sharper and more incensed. "And how the hell do you propose we do that, hmmm?" she demanded of the redhead. "Check the library for the thousandth time? Trudge back to that hospital and see if Hasuno will tell us more if we ask nicely? Stick my wand so far up that pompous city clerk's ass that he won't be able t…"
But those words were cut off rather abruptly as Croix was hoisted into the air by her collar, as if caught by an invisible fishing line.
Then, before either witch could react, she was pulled at alarming speed into the darkness.
[-]
As soon as Chariot recovered from the initial shock, she was summoning the Shiny Balai and hurtling after her best friend.
Ultimately however, she neither needed to fly that far nor that fast. It turned out that the person who'd seized Croix wasn't especially mobile right now.
She caught up with them in a clearing in a nearby park. The hour had grown late enough that no onlookers were there to bear witness to their standoff.
"What a shame. Put out the good bait, and all I catch is vermin," said Shira Hasuno, waving her wand in lazy circles as she slouched across a wheelchair. "Guess I'll just have to toss her back."
Croix probably would've retaliated with a snide comeback, if it wasn't clear Hasuno was using her magic to constrict the younger witch's windpipe.
Where Hasuno had looked two decades younger than her real age with fancy makeup, an expensive swimsuit, and probably not a little bit of Glamour magic, now if anything she seemed far older. Her skin was raw and emaciated, her stringy green hair unkempt and the hospital gown she was still dressed in hanging off her body like an ugly, polka-dotted blanket.
"Umm…shouldn't you be…" mumbled Chariot, averting her eyes. She knew it wasn't anywhere near the most important question she could be asking, but her thoughts were utterly jumbled up right now.
"Getting poked and prodded with needles, so those non-magical pigs can practice their pathetic excuse for healing?" the older witch finished for her. "As soon as they placed me in this wheelchair and gave me back my wand, I blasted the nurses out a window and set off to find you two. I wasn't waiting for the discharge paperwork to take my revenge."
Croix's face was starting to turn blue, which sapped all other thoughts completely out of Chariot's mind.
"Please let her go. Please," she begged, falling to her knees and prostrating herself. "I know what we did to you was awful, but…"
"But nothing," Hasuno cut her off once again. "You witches violated me. Ripped the worst day of my life out of my brain and made me relive it. And if that wasn't enough, you had to just about kill me to boot."
Chariot was tempted to point out how brutally hypocritical that complaint was, but knew it wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't accomplish the one thing she needed to do right now, which was release Croix from the crone's magical grip before she asphyxiated.
"What reason would you even want to know all that?" said Hasuno, wrinkled fingers tightening around her wand like a vise. "Government spies, making sure I keep my mouth good and shut? A couple of pranksters, getting a laugh out of an old woman's pain? Or…"
Her eyes narrowed to dagger-like points as she whispered, "Don't tell me you're stupid enough to go looking for that monster. After everything I told you."
"You…can't…understand…what we're…up to…" Croix managed to choke out, before Chariot could come up with an answer. "You think…so small…"
Chariot hadn't been in this type of situation very often, but her general assumption was that it was probably a poor idea to insult the person trying to strangle you to death.
She assumed correctly.
"Enough out of you!" Hasuno snarled, the glow of her wand briefly turning a hellish red.
Chariot had never even thought to imagine what a scream might sound like when the victim could barely breathe, but now she knew for certain and wished desperately that she didn't. The invisible hands closing around Croix's neck were joined by fierce, bloody scorch marks; like the skin was being licked by unseen flames.
The redheaded witch felt her stomach twist in on itself. If she wanted to save her friend, she needed to act now.
And Shira Hasuno clearly wasn't interested in listening to reason.
With shaking fingers, Chariot drew her own wand – not the Shiny Rod, but the one she'd chosen when she first resolved to become a witch – and pointed it straight at the older woman.
"L…Let her go…!" she said, hating the stutter in her voice. "N…Now…!"
"You know, I don't think I'm going to do that," replied Hasuno, without missing a beat. If the fact that she had a glowing wand aimed at her chest bothered her at all, she was hiding it flawlessly. "See, one thing I've always prided myself upon is that I can tell the worth of a witch at a single glance. Your 'friend' here…is the worst kind of witch. One without a heart. One like me."
Any protests Croix might've tried to offer were silenced by another surge of invisible fire.
"But you? I saw the expression in your eyes when you saw what she'd done to me. You were appalled," the green-haired witch went on. "And yet I find I hate you even more. Because you saw her crimes and did nothing."
Chariot wished desperately to keep herself from faltering under these words, but found she could not. They were entirely true, after all.
"What else does that mean, though?" asked Hasuno dryly. "Simple. It means you're not capable of doing what's needed to save her. A sweet, innocent girl like you, shooting an old lady who just got out of the hospital for a heart condition? I think not."
The performer felt her wand lower by several inches, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Then take me instead," she said in a hoarse, tiny voice. "If my sin was worse, then let me bear the punishment."
But Hasuno just shook her head, stringy locks of hair falling across her face as she did. The result only made her look even more horrid and deranged; the clichéd Halloween image of a witch, rather than the real thing.
"No. That would be too good for you," she sneered back. "The penalty must fit the crime. You're going to stand there, and watch this woman die. Knowing that you could have saved her, and didn't. You'll live with that knowledge, every miserable night…until your own, dying breath."
Chariot thought this over a great deal. Unable to tear her eyes away from the agonized expression of the woman floating above.
A woman whom, despite all her myriad flaws…
She was fairly certain she loved.
Finally, Chariot du Nord made her choice.
She raised her wand back up, and solemnly intoned, "Murowa."
[-]
Surgery took four, agonizing hours.
Chariot absolutely refused to leave the waiting room until they heard the news; not even to use the restroom. Hasuno had been rushed to the emergency department in critical condition, and the doctor's initial diagnosis was that open heart surgery was the only possible method of saving her life.
Croix sat with her the entire time, save a brief break to grab them both snacks and drinks from a vending machine. They didn't talk much, but the lilac-haired witch kept her hands wrapped in a ball around hers.
"This isn't your fault," she said, repeatedly. "Another ten seconds and she would've killed me. You save my life, Cherry."
"And I might've taken one in exchange," Chariot whimpered, completely distraught. "Violated the First Law of Magic. I can't…I can't be a murderer, Croix. Can I?"
"It was self-defense. No court in the court in the world, magical or otherwise, would convict you for that," Croix insisted.
"I'm not talking about the law. I'm talking about me," the redhead gasped out, pulling her legs up to her chest and rocking back and forth in the hard hospital chair. "How can I live with myself after tonight?"
Croix was spared from the duty of having to answer that particular question by the doctor exiting the operating room. He pulled off his mask and gloves, head dipped slightly as he approached the two young witches.
"Thank you both for bringing her back here. Honestly, we still haven't the slightest idea how she slipped out early in the first place," he said in a deep baritone. "We just wrapped surgery, and I've got good news and bad news."
"Good news first," responded Croix, since Chariot couldn't manage to get the words out.
"She's alive. Minor miracle at that, given the state she was in when she arrived," he told the pair. But lest Chariot celebrate too soon, the next words he shared caused her heart to sink like a stone. "Bad news…she's in a coma, and unresponsive. One it's possible she may never wake up from."
The doctor held up a clipboard and marked a few notes on his papers, oblivious to the fact that Chariot felt like she was now sinking into freezing water.
"I know you said you don't know the patient very well," he added after a few moments. "But do you know if she has any next of kin? Or anything that might help us locate them?"
"Fraid not," said Croix, with an indifferent shrug that seemed wholly inappropriate to the situation. "I mean, she's famous, isn't she? If she had any kids, we'd probably have heard about it."
"Yes, and celebrity patients come with their own pitfalls. I already had to place an intern on leave for posting about it on Twitter," the man sighed. "Well, we appreciate all you've done for someone who's essentially a stranger. We'll take it from here. Rest assured that she'll get the best care available."
"That means a lot. Thank you," Croix declared, bowing her head and grabbing Chariot by the hand in a single motion. Still stunned into silence, the redhead didn't resist as she led them out of the waiting room.
Before they could reach the exit to the hospital itself, however, Chariot wrenched her arm out of the other witch's grip, freezing on the spot like a statue.
"I have to do it," she whispered. "I have to turn myself in."
Croix looked around wildly and, seeing the corridor was otherwise deserted, reached forward and clutched her friend by the shoulders.
"No you don't," she said hurriedly. "I told you, there isn't any point. You didn't do anything wrong. And besides, she isn't dead."
"She might as well be!" Chariot exclaimed back. "I knew this might happen when I cast the spell, and I did it anyway. That means I need to face my actions."
Before she could take another step forward, however, Croix drew herself up to full height, blocking her path.
"I'm not letting that happen," she spoke coldly.
"Croix, get out of the way," Chariot told the other witch, a flash of irritation cutting through her fog of gloom. "You may not want to take responsibility, but I will."
"I know. That's just who you are," murmured the lilac-haired woman. "And that's why I'm taking the decision out of your hands."
Her hand snaked out so fast that Chariot barely had time to blink. When she did, she found Croix had stolen her wand right out of her pocket.
Chariot tried to make a grab for it, but again her friend was too quick. She dodged her clumsy fumblings, even as she pulled two more objects out of her pockets. Her own wand…
And some strange device Chariot had never seen before.
Pressing a button on its side, Croix ran the machine along Chariot's wand, and then her own. As if she was a cashier scanning a barcode.
Then, with an underhand throw, she tossed Chariot's wand back to her.
"What in the world did you just do?" asked the redhead, completely befuddled by this bizarre course of action.
"Transferred the last few hours of spell history from your wand to mine," said Croix. "Now if the magical authorities get involved, any scans will prove I was the one who cast the offending Murowa. You wanna turn me in, be my guest. But there's no longer any evidence linking you to the crime."
Chariot's mouth fell open. She wasn't even sure how such a thing was possible – but she also had no reason to disbelieve Croix on the matter of magitronics.
For the briefest moment, part of her wanted to do it anyway. The meanest, most vindictive part. Croix had started all this by poisoning Hasuno. If she went to the police, and confessed both their crimes, then maybe…
But in her heart, she knew Croix was right. Why would the investigators believe her, when all the evidence inevitably pointed to Croix as the sole culprit?
What she'd done to Hasuno was awful. But she didn't deserve to hang for Chariot's sins as well as her own.
And that was precisely why Croix had engineered this trap the way she had.
With a creeping sense of horror, Chariot began to realize they were about to get off scott-free for everything.
"There it is," said Croix, having the absolute audacity to smile in triumph. "Took you long enough t…"
But those words were cut short by Chariot's fingers, slapping her across the face with all the might she could muster.
[-]
They didn't speak again until they were safely in the privacy of their hotel room. Croix seemed to realize the rest of their discussion wasn't fit for a public hospital hallway, no matter how empty.
"Let's get it over with, okay?" Croix remarked, rolling her eyes as she locked the door behind them. "That slap? Fine, I deserved that. But I can tell you're still waiting to unload some more. Get it out of your system so we can go back to focusing on more important things."
"How can you even…" grunted Chariot, burying her forehead in her hand. "Gah, you're impossible! We destroyed a woman's life, maybe for good! Sure, she wasn't a very nice person, but that doesn't change what we've done!"
"That's only true if it was for nothing. And it doesn't have to be," said Croix. "I can still do that geomancy spell. I'll be careful. That power is here, Chariot, just waiting to be tapped…"
"Is that really all you ever think about?" Chariot asked through gritted teeth. "Power?"
"I mean…well, uh, the spell would find her blood relatives too, wouldn't it?" responded Croix, though her voice sounded weak, like she didn't really believe what she was saying. "They deserve to…y'know. To know what happened to her, right?"
Chariot just glared at the other witch, who crumbled in all of three seconds underneath her gaze.
"Okay, fine! You wanna know the truth? Everything we did this week, I don't give a flying shit!" she yelled back. "In comparison to opening the Grand Triskelion, none of it means anything! Oh no, some old bitch might be pushing up daisies a few years ahead of schedule! Stop the presses, this tragedy is too much for me to bear!"
She mimed a brief fainting spell, which only made Chariot's ire climb further.
"I…I can't understand you. How you can just go on, after something like this," she gasped out. "We need to stop this, Croix. The whole thing."
And lest Croix think she wasn't being serious, Chariot punctuated the point by doing something that couldn't be taken any other way.
Dumping the Shiny Rod directly at her feet.
"You…can't be serious…" said Croix, her eyes wide with shock. "After everything we've been through…you're just gonna throw it all away? Five years of blood and sweat?"
"People getting hurt wasn't part of the deal. Bringing back magic isn't worth that," answered Chariot, unable to meet her dearest friend's gaze any longer. "And the Croix I met five years ago would've agreed. But something's changed in you along the way. I've just been in denial about it."
Croix looked like she could've split a tree in two with her fury.
"Oh yeah? Easy for you to say, up on your sanctimonious high horse!" she exploded. "What, did you think blowing open the door to the primordial source of all magic would be all bunnies and gumdrops? Every great discovery in history has been the result of hard work and sacrifice! I've always been willing to make that sacrifice, even if you're too much of a coward!"
"Then pick it up," Chariot goaded the other witch. She knew she shouldn't be, but right now she was just…so tired of playing the "nice girl" all the time. "Pick up the Shiny Rod, and find the Seventh Word yourself for all I care."
They both knew exactly what would happen. They'd tested it on numerous occasions; most times under laboratory conditions, since Croix was Croix.
Yet the lilac-haired witch still took her dare and grasped for the ancient staff, only to be rebuffed. Cradling her hand protectively, like she'd just stuck it in an electrical socket.
"We…are so close," said Croix between heavy breaths, after several moments had passed. "I'm not asking for much. Just let me do what I need to do."
"But that's the problem," Chariot whispered back. "I've been letting you 'do' whatever you want for too long. And I'm done. This is where it ends, Croix."
The other witch's mouth fell open. "What're you saying?" she demanded. "What're you really saying?"
"That we're bad for each other," Chariot choked out. All her rage had subsided somewhere along the way, giving way to hot tears. "Look at today. The worst things you did were for my sake, in the end. And the worst thing I did was for you."
Chariot slowly walked over to the woman she'd been crushing on for five years, but she didn't touch her. Instead, she bent down, and picked the Shiny Rod back up.
She was almost disappointed it didn't burn her as well.
"If we stay on this path…how much longer until we hurt someone else? In a way we can't take back?" she continued on, head bent down so she didn't have to see Croix's expression. "I'll keep this, because Shiny Chariot needs it to bring joy to people's hearts. But that's all I trust myself to do. No more adventures. No more…us."
"Ch…Cherry…" a deep voice stammered, and it was so distraught that Chariot couldn't help but look up again. Only to see that Croix's face was even more tearsoaked than hers.
"Don't say that. Please don't say that," she said, her voice cracking over each syllable. "It isn't even just about the Claíomh Solais. I…need you. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life."
Chariot felt exactly the same way. She had for a very long time. Even now, there was a part of her that wanted to run into Croix's arms, and forget everything that'd happened this week. Forget all the snide comments, and manipulation, and outright lies and deceit.
It scared her how the thought of one kiss from Croix Meridies threatened to purge all that from her mind.
But she knew that if she backslid now, she might never gather this courage again. This is how it needed to be.
"We aren't becoming better people together," she muttered, hating every word she spoke. "But maybe we can apart."
Croix didn't speak for a very long time. She simply stood there in the middle of their hotel room, both her face and body frigid as ice.
Until finally, she said back, "Fine. Once we fly back, I'll clear my things out of the apartment. You won't have to deal with me anymore."
She walked over to their suite's bathroom and slammed it shut with enough force to nearly tear the door off its hinges. But not before firing off one last, biting comment.
"Enjoy your life. Shiny Chariot."
[-]
"That was the last time you guys saw each other, before…?" asked Akko, her voice trailing off before she could complete the thought. Even this long after, it was difficult to broach the topic of Dream Fuel Spirit.
"When I saw her again two years later, I was overjoyed. I let that blind me to all the reasons I'd forced us apart in the first place," Ursula admitted, casting an apologetic glance to her wife. "Not that…I mean, I'm not trying to say…"
But Croix waved off her concern.
"Not exactly a secret I don't come off smelling like roses in…well, any story about our younger days, honestly," she said. "I was out of control back then. And getting worse by the day."
"It's not like I make it out much better," Ursula argued back, shaking her head. "Cutting you out of my life was the cowardly path, not necessarily the right one. What you really needed was help, not judgment. And instead I just…bailed."
"You had the best of intentions," replied Croix. "You couldn't have known that I'd spend the next two years stewing further in bitterness and jealousy. Stubbornly refusing to give up when any sane person would've."
"And…" Diana whispered with a frown. "That's when you came up with…?"
Croix nodded once. "Decided that if I couldn't harness the power of ancient dream magic…then I'd just synthesize my own," she answered.
The former professor drummed her fingers awkwardly across the wall.
"But things are different now, of course," she added swiftly. "I've got Chariot, and a good job, and a very overworked therapist. I know it doesn't make up for the damage I did to you two, or Hasuno, or…or anyone else I hurt along the way. But I'm not the same person I was back then."
"They know. I know," Ursula told the other woman, reaching forward to tuck a lilac-hued lock behind her ear. "I wouldn't have married you if you were."
Croix's lip curled upward. "Really not sure how I'm supposed to take that," she said. "But if you squint, that was almost a compliment."
"Shut up," muttered Chariot, though she was grinning. And she kept grinning even as she pressed her lips against the other woman's.
Only to pull apart at the sound of a rather energetic sneeze.
"S…Sorry…" Lotte stuttered, her face red. Ever the romantic, they could see stars still lingering in her eyes. "Please, carry on."
"Ahem…apologies," Ursula coughed, hastily and very unnecessarily straightening out her robes. "For a moment there, I forgot where we were."
"And since 'where we are' is a random cave in the northern part of Honshu, it's probably best we get back to the crux of the matter," Diana stated pointedly.
That little reality check had all five women gazing around at their rather austere surroundings. Their former professors' story had been so engrossing that the younger witches had been briefly distracted from their current predicament.
Croix nodded in agreement.
"Then to sum it all up…well, you probably already figured it out, but that's what Takeuchi has to be up to," she said. "He found out about the Yumei no Seirei, same as we did. Except he's not stopping at a few readings from the earth. He's gonna blow right through the seal his own mom put up."
"Giving him access to the most powerful dream spirit in history," Diana finished for her. "But why would he need to, when he already possesses the Somnarca? Would that not be redundant?"
Ursula let out a sigh. "I'm certain he intends to use them in concert," she explained to her former students. "The Yumei no Seirei gives him access to every sleeping mind in Japan, maybe beyond. And the Somnarca allows him to manipulate those dreams. The Ring that was previously its prison…will become a conduit, amplifying its cursed magic beyond measure."
"And if he's freeing the spirit, and giving it a whole bunch of fresh victims…I doubt it's going to have any issues obeying him," added Lotte, her lip trembling. "I was hoping I could persuade it to stop, but this doesn't really sound like the 'persuadable' kind of spirit…"
"Either way, we don't have time to lose," Croix declared, cape billowing behind her as she leapt to her feet. Even reformed, it seemed she still had a flair for dramatics. "Your family's restaurant was the only obstacle preventing him from completing the circuit. He might think what he has now is close enough. For all we know, he's attempting the ritual right now."
She gestured toward the staff in Akko's hand and went on, "Plus, it's hard to see this as anything but a sign from the big magical head-honchos that we're supposed to stop this crap."
"I agree," said the Japanese witch, using the restored Shiny Rod to support herself as she shakily stood up as well. "I'm still not really sure how I got it back. But I know what I need to do with it."
Her eyes briefly met Diana's, before correcting herself, "What we need to do with it."
"And we've still gotta rescue the rest of our friends," Lotte piped up, forcing a determined look onto her face that was completely at odds with her usual image. "Which amounts to the same thing in the end, I guess. Wherever Takeuchi is now, I'm sure they won't be far."
"At least we now have one major advantage we didn't twenty-four hours ago," responded Diana, leading the way out of their temporary shelter with long, purposeful strides. "We know what we're up against, and what our mission needs to be. So thank you for sharing that tale, professors. It can't have been easy."
"From what you told us, Takeuchi was right about one thing," Ursula murmured. "The past doesn't stay buried. This is a reckoning that's been due for a long time."
Before they could summon and mount their brooms for the flight to Tokyo, however, Akko raised her hand.
Croix rolled her eyes at her once-pupil's school instincts flaring up, but played along and "called" on her nonetheless. "What is it, short-stuff?" she asked.
"I've been thinking it over a whole lot, and there's just one part of your story I don't get, senseis," said Akko. "Maybe I just missed something, but that Hasuno lady kept calling the dream-spirit thing a 'he.' Except…"
She turned to Diana next, her brow scrunched together in confusion.
"When Takeuchi had me captive, I'm pretty sure he said he was doing this for a she."