002 - The Rolling Storm

There used to be a small, old repair shop near the central areas of Shinto Teito, one that had been out of business for many years. There's no sad story to be found here, just a neighbourhood business whose owner lived off without a fuss until retirement and with nobody seeing it fit to take the business off his hands. With the advent of electronic cars and more and more complex systems that require factory machines to deal with even the most basic of problems, a traditional old garage simply didn't look like an attractive business model anymore.

Anyone trying to buy it to refurbish and repurpose would first have to cover the costs of the expensive but useless tools and machines the place was equipped with, which nobody was particularly eager to do. And so the place remained empty for a long time… until now.

This morning, the neighbours woke up to find signs of activity coming from inside the old place, the lights were on and the noise of heavy things being moved around could be heard if one paid attention. As gossip wont and just as expected of human nature, they paid close attention to the place as they went about their business.

Finally, their curiosity was somewhat sated a couple hours before noon, when a red haired young man wearing black and looking like he could bench-press an oil tanker came out of the building to take down the old 'Takamoto Car Repair' and replace it with a new one:

Sousuke's Tuning Shop
Upcoming opening.

Most older neighbours looked at each other and shrugged, wondering how one would hope to make a living out of tuning instruments, but ultimately went back to their business. Those younger or a bit more in touch with current day trends found themselves nodding in understanding. A car tuning shop was a good way of modernizing the old place without having to throw away all the perfectly serviceable equipment still around.

Meanwhile, the man in question returned to the shop, taking a long breath as he took in the sights of the half-dismantled place. Refitting everything on his own so it's up to his standards isn't going to be easy, but it's fulfilling, honest work. Building, crafting and improving is his calling, but there's a stark difference between playing with laboratory tools to satisfy a scientist's curiosity and building one's own future by hand.

Putting his hands on his hips and giving a satisfied nod at his own progress, Sousuke finds a smile sneaking its way onto his lips. This… this is definitely a good use of his time, he could grow used to a life like this.

So distracted is he by these thoughts, that he doesn't even notice when shadows seem to pool on the ceiling on their own accord, nor when they spit out a tanned woman wearing black, that drops on the floor behind him. He utterly misses the mischievous look on the woman's face as she tiptoes closer, or the way she takes a deep breath and...

"Yo!" The woman greets in a loud, cheerful voice that makes Sousuke let out a startled yelp as he tries to both turn around and jump away at the same time, achieving nothing but falling on his ass in the process. "Oh, shit. You alright?"

"I'll survive." The man grunts, slowly getting back to his feet and throwing a wary look at the intruder. "Are you another…? Oh, who am I kidding, of course you are. What are you doing in my shop?"

"Just wondering what Number 100 is doing already out and about." The woman admits with an easy shrug. "I have in good authority that there are two more batches to go before it's your turn."

Sousuke grunts, weighing the pros and cons of antagonizing an unknown Sekirei that has managed to slip into his shop undetected. He has some defenses already functional, but the place is still very much under construction. And he doesn't know enough about the potential threat to accurately gauge his chances.

In the end, he decides it's simply not worth the risk and gives a shrug of his own.

"I just walked out of the door." He explains with a grunt. "Nobody really tried to stop me."

The woman opens her mouth and lifts a finger, as if ready to protest, only to take a closer look at Sousuke and slowly put the finger down again. Then take an even closer look, and an even closer one, a hungry grin slowly forming on her lips as she does. In fact, one would say she's leering… nay. She's practically raping him with her eyes.

Sousuke shifts in place, feeling somewhat conflicting feelings about the attention and unsure of what to do or say about it. Should he tell her to stop? Probably, he's starting to feel uncomfortable. Should he get angry? Probably not, the attention is flattering. What exactly should he say? Probably something, but hell if he knows what.

"I guess I can see why… Damn, kid. Yer built like a tank." The woman finally concedes, scratching her chin thoughtfully as she takes a step back and away from his personal space. "And that frown… I bet these wet noodles from the science division wouldn't even dare look you in the eye."

"I'll choose to take that as praise." Sousuke finds himself answering drolly, trying to ignore the way his cheeks feel like they are burning. "Now, if you've satisfied your curiosity, please leave. I have work."

"What? You're not even going to ask me to introduce myself?" The woman asks in very blatantly faux indignation. "Isn't that a bit cold?"

"We are under no obligation to introduce ourselves, not unless we're about to fight." Sousuke states neutrally, hoping to gain some emotional distance and regain his footing. He's never been the best at speaking, but he's not bad, either. And yet, this woman seems to know exactly how to prod him to coax out reactions he didn't want to give. "Is that what you're actually looking for? Cut down the competition before it can become a problem?"

"Oh? Quick to get there, aren't we?" The woman asks in turn, her fake indignation swiftly fading away to make room for a Cheshire smile. "And what would you do if I was planning to do that?"

"Then I would fight, of course." Sousuke's body tenses up as he tries very hard not to feel like a mouse before a cat in front of the much smaller woman. "Don't think I'd just let you take me out."

"A brain-type like you? Please." The woman rolls her eyes, letting out a small snort at the same time. "Those muscles of yours may be hot as hell, but we both know it wouldn't be 'a fight' if we go at it right here, right now."

Sousuke knows there is a very good reason for the unknown Sekirei to think like that, he knows he should keep his mouth shut and let the assumption fly. It's the smart thing to do, to hold his cards close to his chest and not give out any hint that he might have an ace in his sleeve. But that comment hits him right into deep-rooted insecurities and he finds himself snapping back a retort before he knows what he's doing.

"You'd be surprised."

"Maybe, doubt it, doesn't matter." The woman spreads her arms in a conciliating and somewhat uncaring fashion. "I'm not here to bully a cute junior, I'm here for a business proposition."

"This place won't be open for business for a while yet…" Sousuke tries to play it cool and hide his confusion but, judging by the smug smile on the woman's face, he's failed utterly. "But I suppose it wouldn't be professional to send you away without at least hearing you out first."

"You heard about the thunder twins, right?"

"The pair of opportunistic harpies going around hunting down unwinged Sekirei but running with their tail between their legs the moment Homura comes around?" He frowns, a pair of powerful Sekirei with elemental abilities, just a step removed from the infamous single-digits and already winged by an Ashikabi… and yet they spend their time chasing after isolated, unwinged Sekirei they can engage two-on-one. There's only a name for people like that, and that word is 'bullies'. "I might've heard a thing or two."

"Well, some other Ashikabi have decided they like the idea." The tanned woman huffs, placing both hands on her waist. "Hunting down the unwinged ones to terminate them before they can become a problem or even going a step further and forcefully winging them."

"That's just disgusting." Sousuke nods emphatically. As far as he's concerned, there's few things as despicable as a forced winging. "But I don't see how that knowledge has led you here to me."

"Well, you are unwinged, I am unwinged and…" The woman trails off, leaning forward to put a finger on Sousuke's bicep and start drawing circles. "That makes us both vulnerable, as much as I hate to admit it. So why not band together then? Strength in numbers?"

Sousuke swallows thickly, struggling to put a frown on his face while he tries to think and hoping the woman doesn't notice the gooseflesh the physical contact is giving him. That proposal… makes sense, on the surface. Strength in numbers is the basest, most simple reasoning behind collaboration, something that's more than justified if Ashikabi are moving around to press-gang unwinged Sekirei into their groups.

But he's not so out of balance by the woman's teasing that he's lost his ability to reason and there's a couple of finer details that have him worried. For once, neither of them plan to remain unwinged forever, so...

"I'm assuming the deal will be off the moment either of us finds an Ashiakabi?"

"Hey now. I take offense to that." The woman pulls back with a frown, sounding honestly put off for the first time. "Sure, if my Ashikabi commands me to stab you in the back I'll begrudgingly go through it, but I'd rather part ways in amiable terms. I'm not a soulless monster, you know? Betraying a business partner would leave a bitter taste in my mouth."

"Or so you say…" It's Sousuke's turn to roll his eyes, refusing to apologize for his very reasonable misgivings. "I'll have to take your word for it."

Which is an unfortunate circumstance when there really isn't a sure-fire way for either of them to prove their intentions. But paranoia can only take one so far, and excessive distrust leaves one isolated and vulnerable. Heck, Sousuke doesn't even like distrusting people, so he might as well give this a try.

Still, that brings up the second point…

"If a fight does break out, you'd be doing the heavy lifting." He points up next. "As you so eloquently put it… I'm just a brain-type."

A weak link in any flock, a supporting character who will never be capable of fighting in the frontlines no matter how much he tempers his body. A force multiplier, maybe, in the right circumstances, but someone without any inherent force to call his own.

Besides, if the woman thinks him powerless, his few hidden tricks will remain hidden no matter what. That could prove invaluable in case of sudden betrayal.

"Well, you have a roof over your bed and I'm sick of breaking and entering abandoned apartments and unoccupied hotel rooms." The woman shrugs, looking at ease with the "So I don't mind doing most of the footwork if you can spare a warm corner for me to sleep in at night."

"Bed and breakfast, then?" He hums, going over the numbers for his little venture. Even if everything goes to shit and he utterly fails to do any business. He should be capable of keeping the place afloat for some time. Providing for the living expenses of a fellow Sekirei might be a bit expensive, but not so much that it'd affect his plans. "I think I can agree to that."

"Oh, so the badass McGrumpyface does have a sense of humor! I was starting to wonder." The woman cackles, offering up hand to shake. "The name's Yahan. Number 57, Yahan, the Shadow Sekirei."

Sousuke blinks at that comment, he wasn't aware he was coming off as a grump, but he ends up shrugging and taking the offering hand on his own. "Number 100, Sousuke, the Shaper Sekirei."

His big hand practically buries Yahan's. And yet, the moment they both put some strength into the grip, it becomes clear that Sousuke is not going to come out ahead.

"Sweet! Nice to be doing business with you! I'll find a room on the upper floor for myself." Yahan rapid-fires as she enthusiastically shakes his hand up and down. "No take-backsies! I feel like this will be the beginning of a very beautiful friendship!"

And, with that, she gives him a military salute and sinks into the shadows, disappearing from his workshop. Sousuke can only rub his face with a frustrated sigh and hope that he hasn't just made a horrible mistake.

Being the only Sekirei of one of the richest Ashikabi in the whole city, Yomi reflects, is nothing like she'd expected it to be. Sure, there's enough luxury around for one to drown in. Delicious and exotic food from all corners of the world, cooked to perfection by the best chefs money can buy. Expensive and comfortable furniture, a big mansion, extensive private gardens… everything a woman could dream of, easily within reach.

Any whim she has is easily, almost negligently, fulfilled with a hand wave or a snap of her Ashikabi's fingers.

And yet, for all that her life looks like a dream come true, for all that it looks like the Ashikabi she landed would be the perfect man…

"The special character will only be available for a limited time!" Hayato-sama blabbers happily as he tugs Yomi's hand along the gravel trail. "Hurry up! We need to be the first there if we want to recruit it!"

Yomi's Ashikabi isn't a man. He's a child. A lonely, neglected child, whose parents thought they could substitute affection with money.

Yomi loves him anyway, of course. Even if the dreams of her old self about heated romance and torrid sex are going to have to wait some years, she could never regret being winged by him. The problem is that he doesn't need a simpering bitch, vapidly agreeing with everything he says without question. He needs a big sister figure, maybe even a motherly one.

Someone who can give him the attention and affection he craves, without indulging his spoiled habits. Someone who can help him grow into the magnificent man Yomi knows he can be, gently guiding him away from the pitfalls that would see him becomimg a pampered manchild.

And he only has Yomi.

Yomi isn't blind to her own faults. She used to be too full of shit to pay attention to them, but she doesn't have the luxury of ignoring them anymore. When she was first released from the labs, she was an ugly person. Petty, egoistic and conceited, just the sort who would grow spoiled with the life of luxury like Hayato-sama so freely offered.

Maybe… no. She's sure that, had Hayato-sama already had more Sekirei to rely on, had she been in a position to drop any responsibility on their shoulders and follow along Hayato-sama in his childish antics, Yomi would have happily done it without shame or hesitation. But Hayato-sama hadn't and so she didn't.

Yomi has had to do a lot of growing up in the last few weeks.

"Yes, yes, Hayato-sama. But please be careful." She chastises gently, carefully eyeing her surroundings as she indulges him by slightly stepping up the pace. "If we don't get there first, we might find ourselves stumbling head first into a fight."

… She's nowhere near there yet, but she's trying her best.

"But Yomi-nee!" He whines while still tugging at her hand, trying and failing to coax her into giving in even further. "That wouldn't matter if we had rushed out of the mansion as soon as we got the news! Or if you'd let me pay off the guys from traffic control so they'd give us all greens!"

"And what if the news had been a trap?" She questions with an arched eyebrow. "We would've rushed head first into a fight and we wouldn't have been even prepared for it. And you know the guys from traffic control suck at hiding their tracks. We'd get a visit from the police as soon as they next got audited."

Hayato-sama mumbles something along the lines of 'I can pay them off too' but doesn't actually say it out loud. Good, establishing boundaries is important and, as much as Yomi would readily lay her life to see Hayato-sama's dreams come true, she wouldn't trust his planning skills to mount a breakout from a cardboard box.

Not because he's not smart enough to do it, Hayato-sama is actually very bright, way smarter than Yomi herself and perfectly capable of finding ways around any obstacle he's aware of. Unfortunately, he lacks the patience to really sit down and consider all the consequences and ramifications of his actions and thus often fails to actually recognize the obstacles before they smack him right in the nose.

No matter how adorable Hayato-sama's face becomes when he does get smacked by an obstacle, the way his nose scrunches cutely in a mix of confusion and indignation, as if he can't fathom how reality dares to not work out the way he was expecting. That's still not a good way to learn. Because sooner or later you'll stumble into an obstacle that outright tears your head off, and there's no coming back from that.

One day, Hayato-sama will learn patience, will learn to distance himself from instant gratification and look at the bigger picture. That day, he'll stop needing Yomi-nee. With some luck, that day he'll start asking for Yomi-chan.

For now though, Yomi has duties to fulfill. Being Hayato-sama's only Sekirei is a lot of responsibility.

"There, look! There she is!" Hayato-sama calls out excitedly, pointing at a bench some ways ahead of them, partially obscured by the vegetation. "The Scrapped Number!"

There she is, the former Number 07, Akitsu. Supposed to be one of the strongest Sekirei in the city, both a single-number and a special case that made her more powerful than she was ever supposed to be. And yet… Yomi can see it all the way from here. The emotions swirling behind these dull and uninterested eyes, patent even through the cool and detached mask the woman tries to put on: Lost, hurt, loneliness and sadness.

Even as Hayato-sama cheerfully rushes ahead, Yomi finds herself reflecting on the situation of that woman. A bird who cannot find her wings, a broken creature denied her own destiny, forever ripped away from the love that's the thing a Sekirei wishes above all else. Of course she's hurt, of course she's lonely.

There's no way the woman will be in any state to do much beyond being cared for, at least for a while. More responsibility on Yomi's plate. In a way, she's glad for it. She doesn't trust herself not to backslide into the ugly person she used to be, if the chance presents itself to abandon all responsibility.

"Hey! Who are you people?" Hayato-sama's voice comes out full of indignation, making Yomi's blood run cold. "The Scrapped Number is mine, I called dibs!"

She immediately rushes towards her Ashikabi's side, discovering in the process a whole group of people that were obscured by the nearby vegetation. They weren't even hiding, it was just bad luck that they couldn't see them from the walkway. Two men and three women, the women obviously Sekirei, going by their extravagant clothes and the weapons two of them were wielding. It wasn't clear whether the men were their Ashikabi or not, but it didn't matter with these odds.

There isn't much difference between three-to-one and five-to-one.

And they got to the Scrapped Number first, so add one absurdly powerful extra fighter to their side. If this situation becomes one of open conflict…

"You did? Well, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, the two of us have already come to an agreement." One of the two men, the one without glasses, says in reply to Hayato-sama's words. As he says that, he turns towards the bench where the Scrapped Number is still sitting. "Isn't that right?"

"Right…" The stoic woman lets out a word of agreement, slowly getting up from the bench without a hint of emotion on her face. "Ashikabi-sama."

"As you can see…" The man shrugs with a victorious smile on his face. "You arrive too late, young man."

"That's not fair!" As expected, Hayato-sama doesn't take it well, stomping the floor and throwing a tantrum. "Yomi! Do something!"

"Hayato-sama…" Yomi answers carefully, trying not to be too obvious as she firms the grip of her scythe and tries to gauge her potential enemies. "Maybe we should give it up and accept our defeat with dignity."

Three to four unknown Sekirei, depending on whether the man with the glasses was a Sekirei or a normal human, plus a known threat in the form of the Scrapped Number. Yomi wouldn't have liked her chances against the Scrapped Number alone, but with support? There's no way things are going to end up well for them if things come to a fight here.

Hopefully, Hayato-sama will notice and—

"But I called dibs!" Hayato-sama digs his heels, utterly unaware of the danger they're in. "I told you we should have hurried up here!"

"And you know why that would've been a bad idea." Yomi forces herself to act nonchalant, trying to ignore the cold sweat running down her neck and taking solace in the fact that the other group hasn't made any hostile action yet. "Now, let's get back home, it's getting late and you need to get to bed early if you want to grow healthy and strong!"

There's still some grumbling as she grabs Hayato-sama's shoulder and starts to physically drag him away, but he finally seems to have realized something's going on, because he doesn't put up any real resistance. Once they're safe and sound, Yomi will need to have words with him about reading the—

"Not so fast. I'm afraid we're not in such a good position that we can simply let our competition go on their merry way uncontested." The man, who has made it clear by now to be the one in charge of the group, speaks up again. "Especially someone as potentially dangerous as the young heir of the Mikogami fortune."

At these words, the Scrapped Number and two of the other Sekirei take up combat stances, while the two men and the last Sekirei take a step back. That surprises Yomi, because she was expecting them to take advantage of their numbers to rush at her all at once. Maybe she's supposed to stay behind to protect their Ashikabi from stray hits?

Not that it makes a big difference, in the given circumstances.

On the bright side, Hayato-sama seems to have finally realized the predicament they're in, small mercies.

"O–Oh, you want to fight?" He stammers out, trying to bluster a confidence he's far from feeling. "Yomi is p– pretty strong, you know?"

Yomi holds back the urge to palm her face. What was that supposed to achieve? Scare a group of Sekirei with superior numbers and combat strength into letting them go? No way that's going to work. No, the only way they're leaving this park alive is through them. Which doesn't seem very likely from where she's standing, but one can only work with the hand they're dealt.

The goal is simple and straightforward, and relies on nothing but her own abilities. Sure, it'll be anything but easy, but at least it's simple.

"I am Number 43, Yomi, the Scythe Sekirei! And I won't disappoint Hayato-sama!"

Taking a look at the trashed battle that used to be a park before him, Higa Izumi can't help but frown. Dust and torn grass blades that are just starting to settle down have flown everywhere, great gouges made by weapons and vacuum blades alike mar the once well-cared lawn and there's gigantic ice crystals everywhere.

On the ground, the two combat Sekirei he brought with him for this sortie lie inelegantly in cratered pits of mud. Even the Scrapped Number, supposedly one of the strongest combatants in raw power alone, is panting slightly as she stands in front of their target. A hand is on her face, prodding at the bleeding slash wound in her forehead.

"What's… this supposed to mean?" He finds himself sneering as he gesticulates towards the utter mess around them. "I was told you were a powerful combatant. This was a pitiful display."

"Ah… Apologies." The Scrapped Number drawls out in that slow, gormless way of hers that he's already starting to hate. "Number 43 was very strong."

"Indeed? And here I thought I had finally found a personal bodyguard." He comments snidely, hiding his satisfaction at the way his words cause the passive woman to flinch. Finally a reaction, that should be enough to motivate her properly. "Looks like I'll have to keep looking."

Izumi turns her attention towards the Mikogami brat's Sekirei. Disarmed and neutralized, arms and legs trapped inside a pillar of ice, she still struggles with all her might, trying to break free. She managed it once, when she was restrained by simple ice manacles. That's how the Scrapped Number got wounded, but that's also why Number 43 is now trapped inside solid ice. There's no way she'll be pulling off that stunt again.

The brat is kneeling on the ground beside the ice pillar, pointlessly hitting it with his tiny fist and bawling his eyes out. Such an unsightly loss of control… that's why he dislikes children. You can't count on them being rational when the situation requires it the most.

"We are done here." He finally announces, turning around to leave. "Let's terminate her and go back to base."

A small cough makes him stop and direct his attention towards his secretary, who is fixing his glasses in a specific, pre-arranged way. Kakizaki would never dream of speaking out of turn or contradicting him in public, that's why they have prepared signals in advance. This way, the secretary can discreetly let him know there's something he believes can contribute to the current situation.

"You have something to say, Kakizaki?"

"I'm just surprised you won't even try to recruit them, Higa-sama." Kakizaki speaks in that calm, respectful voice he's perfected through long years under Izumi's employment. "They could prove to be useful assets for the upcoming struggles."

Izumi frowns at these words, it's not that he hasn't considered the possibility. Number 43 has proven to be a surprising irregularity and the spoiled brat, regardless of his many personality flaws, remains the sole inheritor of a vast fortune. They could indeed be useful assets, still…

"It's not worth the risk, I can't trust an immature brat like him to be professional and stick to a deal." He finally explains out loud. "We are not so desperate for money we need to add a wildcard to our deck and will be better served simply removing him from the equation altogether and—"

"Wait!" The captured Number 43 finally ceases her struggle, eyes wide with panic as she tries to draw their attention with words instead.

"If you are going to beg, spare yourself the effort. This isn't personal and a personal plea matters none." Izumi huffs. Killing sentients doesn't sit well with him, even if they're not humans, but it wasn't him who decided to turn the very existence of the Sekirei into a Battle Royale. Just another sin laying at the feet of Minaka and his MBI. "Better luck in your next life, we will at least make it quick and painless."

"You are willing to subordinate other Ashikabi to yourself, right? When you can trust them?" The trapped Sekirei insists in a frantic voice. "What if I… What if I ensured Hayato-sama would hold to his end of the bargain?"

"What worth has the word of a Sekirei, when you ultimately bow to the wishes of your Ashikabi?" Izumi asks with an arched eyebrow. The idea is not without some merit, clearly the brat holds Number 43 dear, but… his business instinct is telling him he can get much more than that from this negotiation. "No matter what you agree to here, it'll all be words in the wind the very moment the brat throws another temper tantrum."

"I might be just a Sekirei, but he listens to me." If nothing else, Izumi can admire the way the Sekirei remains calm and coherent while trapped inside a solid block of ice. He's aware of the aliens being superhuman, but he's also aware of their limits. The woman should be a shivering mess by now. "I might be unable to go directly against his wishes, but I can keep him from doing something rash out of a misguided wish for revenge."

Well, that's just the expected angle. It holds some water, but doesn't really contribute with anything Izumi hadn't already predicted. Most importantly, it doesn't really earn him anything beyond their dubious allegiance. The real ticket though, it's not in the alien's words but in the brat's reaction to them.

The way he's stopped bawling like a child half his actual age and started paying attention, the way his eyes seem to alternate between hope and despair as the conversation goes on until it finally settles into something else. A glint Izumi has often seen on those he does business with, the telltale sign of a cornered man. Cornered men are dangerous because they have nothing to lose, but they're also desperate. One can get them to agree to things they would never accept otherwise.

"What do you say, Mikogami-kun?" He asks softly, addressing the childish teen for the first time. "I'm not willing to accept the word of a Sekirei alone, but if you're willing to sign away some… guarantees, I might just feel confident enough to take the risk of allowing her to live."

There's still a moment of hesitation as the brat trades looks between him and Number 43. In a more professional person, Izumi would assume they were trying to balance out the pros and cons of the proposal. In an irrational boy like Mikogami Hayato, it's no doubt his urge to get whatever he wishes at whatever price struggling against the last vestiges of whatever good business practices his parents managed to instill on him.

It's not too long before the struggle is over though, silent but unequivocal agreement in the form of a mullish nod.

"Excellent. Come with us, then, we have things to discuss. Kakizaki, make sure his parents are contacted and some collateral agreements are drafted and waiting for us by the time we get back to the office."

"Of course, Higa-sama."

They'll have to finagle this a bit, since the brat isn't a legal adult yet but, with his collaboration to weave an appropriately convincing story, it shouldn't be hard to get his neglectful parents to sign away some hefty sums to use as collateral. Or just to sign away the money, really. Maybe even a guardianship contract for the brat, since the parents are obviously too busy to keep him in the straight and narrow?

So many possibilities… who would've expected, when he set off this evening to get ahold of a legendary Sekirei, that the Sekirei herself would end up being just the cherry on top?

Morning finds Chad lying face-up on his futon, hands resting behind his head and slowly waking up as the first beams of morning sunlight fall on his face. To each of his sides, Natsu and Kaho breathe softly, their heads leaning on his chest as they continue sleeping peacefully. Their winging had been simple, somewhat rushed affairs, just a kiss in the lips to seal the deal as soon as possible.

It was somewhat disappointing that the two of them had let their insecurities and competitiveness get in the way of what could have easily become a special event, but it wasn't his place to decide. There would have been no point in forcing them to wait, making them miserable in the name of making them happy.

That's the sort of romantic nonsense that one sees in fiction from time to time but has no place in real life. Honestly… Talk about oxymorons. If they later regret rushing their winnings and missing out on a special occasion, then Chad would only need to give them a different special occasion to make things right.

As his mind slowly attunes to the land of the living, Chad's awareness expands beyond his most immediate surroundings, head tilting to the side to confirm the presence of his oldest Sekirei. Mutsu is already awake, though he still hasn't moved from where he slept, sitting with his back against the wall and his sword on his lap.

Honestly, there was a time whe Chad tried to get Mutsu to properly lie down for sleep, but he's since given it up as a bad job. For whatever the reason, the Earth Sekirei simply cannot relax in such a comfortable position, needing a certain degree of discomfort to fall asleep.

Not the first time Chad has found a personal quirk of the like, nor one whose source he tries not to think too deeply about. The past is what it is and nothing that's worth the cost can ever change it.

Putting the somber thoughts away with practiced ease, Chad carefully disentangles himself away from his still sleeping Sekirei to get up. As he's making his way out of the room, as quietly as possible, a small chuckle makes him stop in place and turn towards Mutsu's still sitting figure. The lips of the usually stoic main are curved up in a small, amused smile as he points towards the futon Chad just left behind.

In there, maybe looking for the missing body heat of Chad's own presence, the two girls who so fiercely competed with each other just the day before have somehow found their way into each other's arms without even waking up. Cuddling together like this, asleep and peaceful, Chad has to admit the two girls look adorable.

"Mutsu." He whispers to his first Sekirei, trying and failing to hide his own amusement at the display. "Keep an eye on them for me?"

"I'll make sure they keep things civil once they wake up, Ashikabi-sama." Mutsu answers in kind. "I'd rather we don't lose our home to collateral damage."

With a last chuckle, Chad makes his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone before he has to leave for his classes. The day goes on peacefully from there on, save for his lunch break, when all his Sekirei decide to pay him a visit and his lunch is enlivened by three different versions of the story of what happened when Natsu and Kaho finally woke up in each other's arms in the morning.

Still nothing of note happens until evening, when a strange message from Minaka Hiroto himself arrives on his phone. A picture of Shinto Teito's Botanical Garden alongside some lines of text.

"There is a cute Sekirei in that place, first come, first served.
You could be the one to give her wings!"

I have no intention of hiding my work behind a pay wall, but I do welcome patrons and donations.

I have a P-treon thing! A Ko-fi account too!

Just add "/Planeshunter" after the dot com and it should take you straight there.

If you have some spare change and feel my work deserves it, please consider throwing it my way. Maybe one day I'll be able to quit my shitty job and do this full time!