CHAPTER 11: Archimedes & The Tortoise
Junko Kaname needed to blow off some steam. So she loaded the clip into her new SIG Sauer handgun and chambered the first round. "Heh-heh!" She at least had that part of the routine down pat. She placed her dominant, right hand over the grip and stabilized it by putting her left one over top, having one thumb overlapping the other just as the instructor said worked best for beginners. "Heh-haaah!" She eyed her target down deep inside the underground section of their base of operations and squeezed the trigger. "Haaaaah-hah-ha!" She missed, the first hole appearing over the left shoulder of the silhouetted target. Then she fired off two more rounds. She was practicing inside a concrete reinforced shooting range, with an interior acoustically designed to dampen the noise so as not to let the ignorant public dining within the cheap Chinese restaurant above hear what was happening but a few dozen meters below their feet. "Haaahahaaaa!" Followed by three more tries. So far she was one for six, with her single hit grazing the target underneath the armpit. "Haaahaaahaaa!" She would be laughing it up at her poor marksmanship, had she not already been laughing at the unsealed brown envelope sitting on the little black table in front of her waist. "Haaaahaaaahaaa!" She lit off four more rounds, hitting the black part twice and missing twice. "Haaahaaaahaaaa! And finished the clip with two more shots, one finally striking somewhere on the marked points part of the target.
"Heeeeheeeee!" She couldn't help but giggle like a loony cartoon character as she pressed the red button to retrieve the final results of her first go. "Hooohooooohooo!" The contents kept within that big envelope, marked 'Classified' were just so incredible she had to laugh. "Tch!" Four hits out of twelve. Not too bad for a baseball hitter, but downright awful when one's supposed to be among the few authorized concealed arms carriers in all Japan. "Hmph!" Not helping with her aim was the distracting nature of that image drawn on the paper. Though generically human from the waist down, its head was shaped like some bizarre evolution of a reptilian creature, with big white ovular and oversized, hostile-looking eyes with sharp, triangular teeth. And in its clutches was a weapon that looked more like a trumpet-barreled toy or prop than any kind of serious armament. "Heh!" She took it down, attached a new one in its place and sent it out. "Woooooow!"
"Missus Kaname," Miss Yamano, the special liaison whose role Junko was selected to take on, stepped inside with a white lab-coated man wearing a special identification tag and associated patch tailing just behind. "Missus Kaname!" Junko couldn't hear her through the noise-canceling earmuffs as she blasted off six more scattershot rounds. "Missus Kaname!" So she got her attention with a hefty pat on her shoulder.
"Oops!" Junko set the gun down and whipped right around. "Sorry," She offered an apologetic and deferential bow.
"Quite all right," Miss Yamano stopped her with a hand gesture. "Allow me to introduce you to this fellow, on loan from our main offices in Brussels." The man stepped forward and submitted a bow of his own. Junko spotted a tiny flag representing the United Kingdom on his identification tag, along with a proper name, which read 'Malcolm Taylor'.
"Herrowwww," Junko pivoted to addressing him in English. "Ehhhh-Maai naame es Khan-Eh-May Jun-koh." She took his hand for a formal shake in lieu of a return bow. "Sooo naiize tu meat yoo." She may have learned the language in her school days but she was so woefully out of practice speaking it aloud. "Rooking farr-wad tu waar-king weef yoo maayht!" She wanted to cringe at hearing her simplistic word choice and careful diction. She must've sounded like she carried all the cloying enthusiasm of a clueless tourist. Which was not too far off the truth considering how new she was to this whole operation.
"Hey, that was pretty good," The man, bespectacled with a set of perfectly round glasses, short, black hair, and a wide, disarming smile, replied. "But actually when one gives their name in English the proper thing is to start with one's given name and end with their family name." His response was in such spot-on Japanese that it caught Junko by surprise.
"Oh, wow!" Junko exclaimed in her native tongue. "You speak Japanese?"
"No, not at all." The man said. "Just that first speech and this one explaining it."
"Y- You're kidding, right?"
He turned and addressed Miss Yamano. "Eh? What's she on about?" He'd switched back to English much to Junko's confusion.
"Please sign this form," Miss Yamano promptly handed Junko a clipboard with some paperwork attached. "Here, here, here and here."
"Why? What is it?" Junko took a pen out and flipped through the pages.
"Consent to submit to a special beta testing program."
"Beta testing?" Junko hurriedly stroked her pen along the required lines. "Of what?" Promptly the man removed something from his coat pocket, stepped forth and shot something straight into her ear canal with a stylus-sized needle. "Owwwww!" She jumped back and was quite tempted to grab her gun and point it at him. "What the hell was that?" Instead she thought better and holstered it. Justifiably pissed as she was, drawing a gun on a coworker would most definitely be an infraction severe enough to get her cuffed haunch tossed behind bars in any job. At this one, the consequences she didn't even want to think about.
"How's my Japanese sounding now?" The man asked, to Junko's chagrin and bafflement, as his words weren't quite aligning to his mouth flaps.
"Fine as it was before!" Junko lashed back. "Sheesh!"
"Hang tight for a second," He took out a second same-sized needle and stabbed it into his own eardrum. "Do unto others as you would do to yourself." He uttered with a penitent wince. "That's as the ole' saying goes, right?"
"Alright, what the hell did you inject me with?" Junko and her hot-blooded temper huffed.
"He calls them his little nannies," Miss Yamano shared with a slight eyeroll.
"Universal translation nanocells," The man stepped in and elaborated. "Cryptoprotozoan microbes engineered to latch onto the speech processing centers of the brain and alter the way it processes spoken language so that we can understand one another, no matter the native tongue." But his mouth movements were so off his speech it was throwing poor Junko for a loop.
"'Cryptoprotozoan'?" Junko questioned. "That means-?"
"They're teensy-tiny life forms that will help you speak and understand any language you want, in return for feasting upon a minuscule portion of the twenty watts of electricity it takes to power your brain." Miss Yamano made explicitly spelled for her. "Single-celled symbiotes that'll function better than any phone or web translation app, as machine-learning algorithms tend to lose the proper context or misunderstand nuance." Next she handed Junko a pair of black specs. "They're not quite perfect either, but they functioned phenomenally during the alpha stage."
"What are these for?" Junko peered through them but was reluctant to put them on her face.
"They're low-grade perceptual modifiers," The man told her. "So that I don't appear to your eyes like I stepped straight out of a bad foreign movie dub." Finally what she could see synched up to the things he was saying. "We're still researching the root cause, but an odd yet prominent side effect of our brains sensing that verbal-visual disconnect is some minor nausea and vertigo."
"I'm wearing the breathable contact lens version myself," Miss Yamano added. "You can requisition those later if you'd like."
"Get outta town. We really have this kind of technology?" Junko's eyes went wide as she donned the glasses. "And it's done by microbes, not microchips?"
"Well, any non-organic microchip is inevitably going to be seen as a foreign invader by the body's immune system, and attacked," The man expounded. "And even our smallest and most remarkably engineered computer processors hold but a fraction of the vast information storage potential within even the simplest strands of DNA, and when that DNA numbers in the millions and gets networked as part of a much more complex organ, well." His zealous smile went into a full grin. "That's how you can store every single living spoken language on Earth. Some of the dead ones, too." His smile fell at once the moment he realized he'd forgotten something important and pivoted with a quick-grab of Junko's hand. "Oh golly, what's become of my manners?" He joined it with his other hand and gave her a big, sweeping up-and-down handshake. "Malcolm Taylor's the name. Science is my trade. With doctorates across four distinguished specialty fields. And two more in-waiting."
"Yes, I know your name," Junko returned a comparatively more reserved smile and nod. "I read English way better than I speak it." She pointed at the nametag and itched at the stinging spot behind her ear. "Or that used to be the case, anyway."
Miss Yamano took notice of the envelope sitting idle on the table behind Junko. "Have you had the chance to page through that report yet?"
"Yes I have," Junko had fortunately freshly exhausted her supply of laughter moments earlier. "It was a very clever prank, very official-looking." Otherwise it would have alerted them to her seething sarcasm. "Seriously, I appreciate a good hazing ritual." She kept her best poker face on through the lie. She did not appreciate getting called away from a touching exchange with Madoka's friends like it was a five alarm fire, only to be put through some elaborate put-on by her colleagues. "I remember a few years ago at my old gig the guy responsible for ordering the office supplies once put an extra couple 'o' zeroes into the order for rubber bands by mistake, and we covered for his sorry hide by passing it off to our bosses as a prank we were pulling on the latest hire. And so we stretched them all across his phone, his monitor and all the belongings in his cubicle, and had a huge laugh over it afterwards."
Miss Yamano and Malcolm Taylor turned and looked at each other with tilted brows each. "A bit of a hard-nosed skeptic, I take it?" Mister Taylor asked.
"Oh, not hardly," Junko put her back hand to her mouth. "I mean, what little girl out there doesn't dream of far-fetched things like pixies and unicorns and fanciful places beyond our tiny wet blue marble?"
"Uh-huh," Miss Yamano motioned for the other two to follow her out the door. "Do you discount the possibility that the document was psychological ruse meant to weed out those who are too gullible or weak-minded to participate in an organization that requires critical thinking skills coupled with a healthy level of cynicism?"
"I suppose not. But if that's the case, then you should've jotted down a way more believable scenario than the paranormal piece you handed me." Junko forced a smirk.
"If you're not liable to believe what's on the paper," Doctor Taylor spoke as they strode down the hallway. "It makes me curious to learn what sort of otherworldly things you do give credence to?" He paused for a moment and tilted his head back. "What's your opinion of UFOs, for starters?"
"Never seen one myself," Junko responded. "Nor am I too impressed by those fuzzy photographs and blurry videos which never seem to capture anything but the most out-of-focus blobs."
"How do you feel about aliens?" He followed up.
"You mean, do I think they're out the re somewhere?" Junko smirked. "Sure. It's a big ass universe that would be an awful waste of space if it were just us. But are they racking up frequent flier points doing flyovers past our humble little corner? Nah. "
"So I take it you're a huge doubter of those alien abduction stories too?" He assumed.
"I don't think those people who think they've had run-ins with aliens are crazy, per se," She said. "But the brain does have a very active imagination, especially while we're dreaming. Not helped by those hypno-shrinks who trickle in extra details often without meaning to." Junko walked a few steps behind them, thinking back to her days as a younger teen. "Back when I still watched anime I had this recurring dream where this albino rat would come popping in through my window and pester me about doing it a favor or some silliness." It had been at least a decade and a half since she last tried digging into the details of that tucked-away part of her youth. "One thing I remember is the little critter having a big head and these really ethereal eyes, so I'm not surprised to hear of big eyes and pale faces as a typical trait surrounding their stories." She couldn't remember much else beyond that eerie, enchanting stare.
"And how do you feel about ghosts?" Miss Yamano joined in on the questioning.
"Eh, mostly dreams as well," She replied, Then added, "Compounded with bad ductwork, leaky plumbing and our tendency to forget where we left our keys."
"Spontaneous human combustion?" Doctor Taylor switched topics.
"Tall tales that made me really, really glad I never took up smoking." But upon saying that Junko had to take a moment to worry about her daughter on that date. Peer pressure is an undeniable force to be reckoned with, and in a sudden spurt she was quite worried about that redheaded newcomer's potential influence on Madoka. She hadn't been subjected to the same sort of scrutiny that she'd given to Homura. And her only voucher was a series of texts from Sayaka's mother, explaining where this out-of-nowhere cousin came from. But from what few interactions they'd had, it did seem to her like the girl was prone to bouts of impulsiveness if no other reason but cheap kicks.
"And Extra Sensory Perception?" Yamano pressed on. "Do you believe humanity could one day unlock that unused ninety percent of our brains?"
"Well, first of all, that ten percent thing is a huge myth, even a scientific dilettante like me should be made aware of that." Junko pointed out. "The brain would be an awful inefficient thing if it functioned that way." She folded her arms as they moved along. "Though I do grant we do have plenty of room for improvement. Like, with your techie stuff."
"Quite right," Doctor Taylor agreed succinctly. "So what about the zoological mysteries. Like, do you believe in werewolves?" He asked, one hallway turn after that.
"Not a chance." Junko said flatly.
"Or that big dinosaur in that English lake?" Miss Yamano couldn't remember the name. "What's it called? 'Jessie'?"
"It's 'Nessie'," Doctor Taylor corrected. "And he be a Scottish legend."
"Whatever its name is, I don't believe in it," Junko stated. "Somebody photographed a toy on a log and from there a big tourist trap was born."
"It's a good thing I'm Welsh and not Scottish or I might be a smidge offended by your blithe disregard of our folklore, Missus Kaname." Doctor Taylor shot her another toothy smile. "Speaking of which, what do you think of the story of Atlantis?" They entered a lift.
"It's a morality play about what happens to a civilization once its aspirations of control and conquest exceed its level of regard for the commoners as well as its most dispossessed." She opined, then realizing that in her usual outspokenness, she may have said something a little too politically charged. "A Story as old as time itself. And not unique to the east, west... North or south."
"Agreed. And what about those reclusive great apes?" Miss Yamano pressed the button to their destination floor. "Like the snowmen of the Himalayas or the hulking hairy ones in Pacific America?"
"Nope. not at all." Junko shook her head.
"Last but not least," Miss Yamano opened the envelope and paged through its contents. The lift bell chimed and the trio stepped out. "Heh. From your responses thus far would I not be wrong to conclude you do not believe there exist any creatures of magic?" She tucked them underneath her arm as they made their way to the door which contained their destination. "Or to be more specific, you don't think there exists any magical beings of the feminine persuasion?"
"That's right." Junko put her hands to her hips once she stopped before the doorway. "You'll have to think of something better than gobbledygook like those papers to make me a magic-believing fool!" Doctor Taylor and Miss Yamano exchanged knowing glances, and with them came sly smiles.
"Well, Missus Kaname," Doctor Taylor breathed. "Prepare to join us within the den of fools!"
"Head's up, bro!" The high schooler shouted to his friend. "She's comin' up on ya' hard and fast!"
"Woah!" Her mug was right in his rearview. Her ponytail was flapping in the wind like a stallion's tail, resistant to being tamped down by that protective helmet on her head. Her eyes were dead-set on the next prize, that next hard corner turn whereupon whoever rounded it first would have the inside track to victory in the final laps. "Crap!" He exclaimed. She was surging so fast he could even count the number of teeth showing through that cocky, confident grin.
"Madoka!" Kyosuke alerted his girlfriend as loud as he could. "When you shift it to this gear, you can make a smoother turn!" He demonstrated by pulling a little ahead and jerking the little lever below the steering wheel. "See?" He glided around the next turn and decelerated to give her that extra second to catch up.
"Whheeeeeee!" Madoka chirped with joy as she pulled the feat and met him at the ensuing straightaway. To those two the race wasn't a contest to see which was the superior driver, but rather the chance to have some thrills and show how far they're willing to go when supporting one another through wacky twists and turns.
Not to be outdone by his would-be girlfriend, Tokoi mashed the acceleration pedal and gunned it down the next stretch.
"Wooooooooo!" The little girl and her father whose race had concluded several laps earlier cheered from the sidelines. "Go! Go! Girlies go!"
"So when Schiaparelli jotted down what he saw," Sayaka was explaining something to Homura as they witnessed the race from their more distanced vantage point. "He wrote them out as 'canali', which is the Italian word for channels. But then that word got mis-translated when the news of what he saw appeared in the English papers as canals, which set off this huge frenzy." She was peering through her binoculars at the red planet Mars, just talking about what she'd read about the world. "You see, the Suez Canal had just been completed a few years before, and right after came the race to build another one across Panama. So the thinking was, that if we've become a species that's smart enough and powerful enough to re-make the world's natural features to suit our needs, and there also exists similar things on Mars, then by that logic there had to be builders up there who were just as intelligent and ambitious as we were. And that's how the whole world broke out in Martian mania!"
"Looks like the race is reaching its climax," Homura noted. "Kyoko's making moves which will let her permanently take the lead."
"You weren't listening to me at all, were you?" Sayaka moaned with discernable disappointment and hurt feelings.
"Some Italian guy saw what he thought were natural channels, the word he reported got mistaken to mean artificial canals, and that set off a frenzy of speculation about advanced life on Mars." Homura recapped.
"Holy cow, you were listening?" Sayaka's spirit bucked up.
"Believe it or not, I can do two things at once on occasion," Homura glibly told her. "And I was already somewhat aware of the general history, anyhow."
"Oh? You were?" That suppressed Sayaka's mood again somewhat. "Dang." She expressed a suppressed disappointment under her breath.
"I guess I hadn't made the Suez connection, though," Homura tried to spare the young lady's feelings. A small concession she could hardly picture her prior timeline selves making to anyone but Madoka. "Sometimes when I'm idle I cannot help but wonder what major historical achievements were the product of normal human aspirations and which were spurred along by Kyubey." Nor could she imagine her old self just making conversation that had no explicit purpose.
"You mean, you wonder if some girl in Egypt asked him for there to be this big wide ditch across her land that connects two vast bodies of water?" Sayaka posed a poignant question in jest.
"And as a consequence that ditch became a strategic vital point on the vast, infuriating chessboard that is world politics," But Homura returned instead a serious, solemn answer. "The karmic price to pay for just wanting the world to seem a little bit smaller." Her eyes slowly drifted back towards the race.
"Naaaw, I gotta believe things like that can only come from the people's collective will." So Sayaka countered with an earnest retort of her own. "We don't need miracles or magic to move a little dirt around the yard." Her view of Mars yielded to the much closer spectacle of the race.
"At times I wish I could share in your distinctive brand of optimism," Homura sighed to mask her budding envy.
"I wasn't trying to be optimistic," Sayaka countered. "What I was being was realistic. There's plenty of positive things to find in the reality of any situation."
"So what's the sunny side to seeing those you most care about living fulfilling lives while you're on the sidelines wondering if the tradeoff for all the blood, sweat and tears you've put into achieving their happiness is to become a constant, looming spectator who can't partake in even a moment of joy?"
"You're alive, you're here, this evening's pretty warm considering our time of year, we've got as clear a view of the stars as any big city night permits," Sayaka listed. But she could tell impersonal items weren't doing much for the young lady's dour disposition. "You're the new top-ranked student in the whole class. You dazzle the kids and teachers in gym exercises. There's a host of girls and boys who somehow think your rude aloofness is an air of coolness." Were her words getting through? As much time as they'd spent together of late, Sayaka still struggled to pick up on the assorted nuances of Homura's default neutral expression. "And best of all, your ego's secure enough not to even have to care what those dipsticks think of you." A little frustrated by that, she took Homura's preoccupation with the go-kart race as her chance to pierce through that stonewall expression with a little drastic touch. "Ha!" Literally. She gave Homura a light finger poke right in the cheek where a theoretical dimple would be.
"Don't do that." Homura swatted that finger away.
"What, you afraid I'm gonna smear that makeup or something?"
"Thanks for reminding me." Homura abruptly shot up from the grass.
"Wait," Sayaka watched her take six steps down the sloping hill. "Where you goin'?"
"To the restroom," Homura replied with a swift back turn. "So I can wash this silly caked crud off my face."
"Whaaat?" Sayaka shot to her feet in befuddlement. "But I toldya back at Madoka's house, you look great in that makeup!"
"No I don't," Homura argued without turning her back.
"Yes you do!" Sayaka gave chase, catching her by the hand as they reached the foot of the hill. "Sheesh! I'm offering you a compliment on a silver platter and you won't take it?"
"You're just being nice is all," Homura refused to turn around. "I understand the intention."
"I'm not being nice!" Sayaka insisted. "I'm telling you you're cute, gorgeous even!" She yanked at her hand. "Beautiful, and I'm for reals jealous of your looks! So take a little darn joy in someone being positive towards you for once. I promise whatever karmic ripples it causes won't end with an apocalypse."
"I'm sorry," Homura's voice cracked and choked with the burden of contrition. "I'm still not used to any of this yet. All those loops afforded me the chance to practice the best ways to navigate ins and outs of mundane conversation, what little skill I had at being my authentic self atrophied to a point where it adversely affected the way I see how others see me." Her head tilted up and back, her hair flowing in the air like a windsock.
"So as a result, you started avoiding the social situations you saw as having no value, and have gotten to think that any niceness offered to you is just a bullcrap platitude?" Sayaka asked, trying to clarify. Homura affirmed the notion via a silent, closed-eyed head nod. "I can be full of lotsa bullcrap, sure. Talking to other people used to be so easy for me, but lately it's like everyday chitchat's turned into this big, elaborate chess game while I'm barely smart enough to play checkers. And just to slide by, I gotta pretend I'm this unserious class clown who takes it in stride," She confided. "But with you, I dunno what it is. With you I can let my hair down a little bit. Relax and speak my mind free of any judgment or argument."
"Your hair's much too short to be let down," Homura caught her eye and commented.
Sayaka shot her a look. "I wasn't being liter-"
"I know." Homura interrupted. "Sorry again." Just as quickly those eyes zipped away. "My underdeveloped social skills have also rendered me incapable of sensing when it's a good time to make a joke, however thoughtless or forced ." A shooting star had lit up overhead, she pretended to be enamored with where it was headed, as she still found protracted eye contact to be a difficult task. "What you describe, it used to be how I viewed my relationship to Madoka. But lately, however-"
"Let me guess," Sayaka cut her off. "Ever since she and Kyosuke became an item, you realized you don't want her to help carry all that weight on your back while she's got a nerd like him to look after too."
"Pretty much."
"Which is funny," Sayaka cracked a meek smile. "Because that's how I used to see things between Madoka and me, too!" She sighed and joined Homura in looking up listlessly into the heavens. "Oof." They both had a hole in their hearts they had been plugging with the same soul. "Anyway," She tugged at Homura's arm, towing her back up the hill. "Your makeup is for-reals very cool, and there's no one here but me to make you feel self-conscious about it." As they retook their position up top she handed Homura the binoculars. "So keep it on, and let's watch the end for our friend's sake. We at least owe her a good cheering-on down the stretch."
Something was clearly amiss. Most dreams began in the liminal space, borrowing from bits and pieces of memories and the flotsam of one's drowsy thoughts to create wholly-made set-ups and in medias res scenarios. But this place, a sprawling, labyrinthine cityscape fashioned to resemble Kamihama, looked like it had already been subjected to the worst of the dreamer's subconscious travails. And now the aftermath was left to fold into itself and crumble away from the unsteady precipices of memory into the eternal limbo of paramnesia.
But Mifuyu Azusa wasn't here to bear witness to such tragedy. For on that skyscraper rooftop she had a job to do and not much time to do it. But how was she going to make her presence known to this world's creator without expediting the demise of this dreamscape around her? Fortunately, she had an idea. When they were middle schoolers and they used to share in their lucid dreams, whenever they got separated by their whimsical adventuring, Mifuyu would strum a certain tune with her koto, the notes of which came from an anime they would watch together every following morning, and her partner would come running.
"Hm hmm hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmmmmm hmmm hmmmm hmm," Mifuyu hummed along to the melody. The odd thing was that she couldn't remember ever being much of a hummer. Was this indulgence autonomic or evidence that she was starting to manifest a distinctive identity? Regrettably there was no time to muse over the matter. "Hm hm hm hmm hmmm hmmm hm hm hm hmmm hm," She kept at it anyway, figuring it wouldn't hurt to make herself stand out more in this twisted-yet-captivating realm.
"Hm hm hm hmm… Hmmmmmmm?" A sudden surge of paranoia stung the back of her neck like a bee. Her defensive impulses were telling her someone else was on the prowl watching, nay, hunting. And since her delivery to this frontier was a targeted effort, she had a pretty good idea who it was. Mifuyu was more than ready to talk. But was the subject going to be willing to listen to what she needed to say?
"I know you are out there somewhere Yachie, heh-heh! Hello again." An innocuous chuckle and a greeting to kick things off. She was aware that the two of them had not parted ways on the best of terms, and the fault for that was mostly Mifuyu's. But had fleeing without leaving so much as a note damaged the bridge too badly for any chance of reconciliation? "It has been a while." She dared not think that was the case, yet at the same time, that icy chill down her spine just would not cease.
"Do you remember the day I met your grandma, and she towed me along with you to that little corner candy shoppe?" She followed the greeting with a little nostalgic entreaty. "I recall you telling me later that in that moment as you watched me play around with that little stick of gummy candy all fascinated by its color and the sticky texturing, you thought I was such a child. And yet you were but a child yourself, albeit at the time one who was trying to act more grown-up. Ow!" With her quickened reflexes she caught the object that had just struck her square on the noggin. It was a ping pong ball-sized piece of rubble, raining down from the concrete skyline rending itself into pieces high above. "Looking back, you trying to seem older and I, being pushed by virtually everyone else in my life into presenting myself as someone older than the age my heart wished to be, I think that dichotomy was what made you and I so… What is the accurate word?" The rubble was but a precursor to the ensuing hailstorm of dust, rock and water spurts as the dream's instability hastened.
"Simpático!" Yet Mifuyu stayed standing defiant of the rising tides of chaos around her, dressed not in her magical form but in a wine colored, low cut shirt that had been given to her as a gift. She'd hoped this little show of bravery would be enough to convince whatever eye was watching that she had changed for the better in their time apart. "A child pushed into being an adult against her will, watching another child push herself into becoming a mature and capable grown-up, thought that trait was so enviable, she believed it to be the very example of strength." She spotted a figure circling around her in the distance. "But rather than striving to be more like her, she came to resent that strength. And she started to blame and hate herself so much, for harboring such feelings in secret while still continuing to pretend she was that person's most special friend outwardly."
She eyed the thing slinking up an adjacent skyscraper. But she couldn't glimpse anything more than a rough silhouette and something was off about the way it moved. Yes, it was fast enough that it could mostly dodge the falling debris but the figure lacked any sort in finesse to its movements. From what she could see its form lacked any of her old friend's feminine grace, instead scuttling about as if she were a frenzied animal. Just a few seconds ago Mifuyu believed her paranoia to be unjustified, the remnant hard feelings of c arried over consciousness. But now her logical side too was pushing her to prepare for anything. But especially the worst.
"So when that friend of hers finally after years of trying, confesses what her actual wish was, with the subtextual ramifications made obvious by the misfortunes that befell two in their inner circle of friends, could you really blame her for wanting to extricate herself from a situation that only seemed preordained to turn tox- Aaaaaaaaaaaah!" She had to pull the quickest backflip in history to dodge a halberd aimed to sever her in two. Not a word, nor a warning shot, this was indeed the worst. Mifuyu had no choice but to quickly assume her magical identity, though without any time for the pomp and circumstance of the typical transformation sequence. By the time she landed her clothing and accessories were both changed.
Even after being threatened she refused to commit energy to forging her weapons, instead doubling down on using words. "I am sure you too must have intuited long ago what the karmic consequences were of that wish you made to survive. But a human being cannot help but reach out to another sympathetic heart. It is a weakness inborn from the protracted time spent as a helpless clump of malleable flesh in the cradle and persists right up to the moment they draw their last labored breaths in an operating room. It is a vulnerability ripe for exploi- Waaaaaaaah!" She was interrupted again by the ballistic trajectory of two additional halberds.
"Are you okay, Yachie?" Mifuyu tried asking through the clamorous maelstrom of rubble and rain. "Silly question, I know." For the answer was pretty plain in their surroundings. "But it is a question we all need to hear someone else ask us every now and agaiiiiiiii-" Her one-sided talk got disrupted yet a third time as the entire pull of gravity switched. "Aiiiiiye!" She fell upwards in a freefall, arms and legs flailing helpless through the air.
"Yachie, will you pllleeeaaase just listennnnnnnnn?" The distressed young lady pleaded. "Tiiiiiiime is nooooot on ouuuur siiiiiiiiide!" As she corrected her fall's trajectory by settling into a parachute dive, she found herself encircled by four more halberds. "Huuuuup!" Adeptly she knocked two out of her way with a sweeping kick. "Haaaaaup!" Then she tore off her gray robe and used it to collect the remaining pair like a garbage bag and tossed them off just as she came to a rough landing. "Ooooooooof!" She let out a pained cry. "Oooooooooow!"
"You know, when that fortune teller told me that I had misunderstood my wish on a fundamental level," A thunderous voice boomed from all around. "For just a little bit I dared hope that she was right and I wouldn't have to keep myself aloof and detached from everyone around me forever more." Then an earthquake caused Mifuyu to tremble at the thighs. "I foolishly thought that as long as I had a Support Stone, I could get away with taking on a guardianship, or tutoring an apprentice, even help ease Tsuruno's transition into leadership, and karma couldn't touch me."
But the quivering Mifuyu had no idea what it was talking about as that looming presence whooshed past her eyes. To her sheer shock and horror, she counted a lot more than two legs propelling the lady's form. It was six, to be exact, and the sight of it put a very frightening thought into Mifuyu's mind. "Oh, Yachie!" Mifuyu muttered. "Not you too!"
"What's the matter?" It asked. "Now that you've come back to witness the end product of your sick little long game, you no longer feel like gloating?" A face peeked around the corner of a ledge, revealing an alienesque white, featureless mask with dark, almond-shaped eye holes and a bone-chilling, curled-up smile. "Could it be that even the monstrous manipulator harbors within its twisted psyche its own fear of other monsters?" In its hand it gripped its halberd, with several more circling the air ready to execute the object of its hatred. "Good!"
"So in the witch's eyes any display of weakness is the equivalent of monstrousness," Mifuyu formed her main weapon, a hula-hoop-sized chakram. "To deny it the emotional satisfaction it craves, I must show resilience and temper its wrath with force."
"Rrrrrrrrrrrragggggh!" The fearsome creature lunged at its foe with all halberds pointed at the shining gem adorning her neck.
"Huuuuuuuuap!" Mifuyu leapt upwards, performed a backflip, twirled around and batted her opponent's projectiles away with one sweeping swoop of her chakram. "Haaa!" Then she hitched a ride on the halberd that had been tossed with her foe's own might, knowing it would be the one most likely set to have a return trajectory. "Hiiiiiiiyahh!" Her intuition proved correct, as she geared up to toss her own blade at the beast once the lancet boomeranged back around. "Wooooaaaaahhhaaahhh!" But the gravity switched again, knocking her off her impromptu foothold and sending her careening into a boulder high above. "Unnngggffff!"
"Haaahaahaaaahaaa!" The former Yachiyo cackled. "This is my world! My rules! You cannot hope to prevail, so why bother taking a stand?" It launched upwards and staked a new position on another boulder falling in concert with the one Mifuyu had landed.
"Because I am her best friend and her oldest friend!" Mifuyu got back up and slashed back at her antagonist. "And I would never abandon her, even in the face of certain death!" They at last met mano y mano, Mifuyu for the most fleeting moment spotting something in her rival that resparked an ember of hope.
"Yet that's precisely what she did!" It spat back, parrying Mifuyu's blade with the bottom of her own. "And now look where that's gotten you!" A finger snap formed a wall of additional halberds, which she all hurled at her erstwhile friend. "Trapped in this nightmare world with meeeeeeee!" Mifuyu dodged the barrage by rolling to the opposite side of the falling rock.
"I have already explained her reasons for doing so," Mifuyu recovered with a push-off jump to the air, then she spun her instrument around her wrist and flung it like a yo-yo. "I do not ask you to forgive the act, but if your heart has become closed off to the very notion, then I must take on the mantle of responsibility and try to guide you back to the light." It ripped through the rocks like a buzzsaw, creating a dust cloud in its wake.
"Of course you're responsible!" The attacker emerged from the wake dirtied but untouched. "You're the one who sent her down this path to darkness!" She shot her way towards Mifuyu wielding her weapon like a spear. "You who manipulated her into doing your dirty deed, all the while pretending to be just an innocent ghost who merely wishes to see justice carried out!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Mifuyu insisted as she fended off its wrath by counterattacking, flipping her chakram like a coin and lopping off her assailant's halberd at the socket. "I do confess that I am not the real Mifuyu Azusa, as I have formed thoughts and opinions of my own that are wholly separate from her soul's template." She also could not explain where this sudden outpouring of self-assured resolve was coming from. Did it stem from that enigmatic emotion lying at the root of the real McCoy's feelings towards this person, or was it born from the heat of the moment? "And right now, it is my opinion that sulking in here and lashing out at trespassers while dressed as an animal and hiding behind a mask wastes precious time and does your psychology no good!" But she had materialized a second one in her other hand, and with Mifuyu's chakram fully committed to warding off the thrusting feint of the other one it left her open to getting impaled by the other. In that last split second she recognized her tactical blunder, she closed her eyes, gulped and put her faith and fate in Yachiyo's hands.
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" Yachiyo stayed her hand with the point stopping barely a nanometer from Mifuyu's jeweled gem. "Are you seriously trying to convince me that you're a different impostor from the Mifuyu who tricked me into partaking in Hanna Sarasa's demented revenge scheme?" Though she didn't deliver the killing blow she still kept it pointed firmly in case she heard an answer she didn't care for.
"I-" Mifuyu stuttered, keeping her hands up, her neck and chin turned up and her eyes gazing into the whites of Yachiyo's. "I am a simulacrum of the magical girl Mifuyu, one manifested by the mind and magic of a girl named Nemu Hiiragi, who created me as a means to help her fight her way out from the most terrible consequence of her wish."
"That so?" The ever-skeptical Yachiyo glared from behind the concealment of her mask, the only thing betraying the thoughts of the bleeding heart behind it were the big, unflinching blue eyes peering out from the inside of those dark eyeholes. "Alright. Suppose for a second I believe you. How the hell is it possible for you to show up like this in my dreamworld?"
"We bounced a targeted signal from a satellite array in Mitakihara City, up to a relay in space, then off a radio station antenna in Kamihama, and straight into your dozing mind." Mifuyu explained in as matter-of-fact a manner as she could. An absurdity uttered with one-hundred percent seriousness, she figured, could only be interpreted by this person as the absolute truth.
"Rrrrrrrrreally?" Yachiyo questioned. "So I take it this Nemu person's magic is also responsible for such an unlikely feat?" But Yachiyo was still trying to parse the odds of two separate magical girls getting the same idea to tug her heartstrings via a Mifuyu impersonator.
"Oh, Nemu's magic is something to admire, for sure!" Mifuyu gushed, letting her affection get the better of her. "But she is barely middle school age, and her constitution's frail, so she needed the aid of a much more seasoned magical girl to survive this most difficult life."
"That's the point where Mifuyu found her?" Yachiyo's stance had loosened somewhat but she'd neglected to lower her weapon held to Mifuyu's neck.
"Owch!" An oversight upon which Mifuyu immediately cut the side of her chin.
"Oops," Yachiyo retracted her blade enough for the girl to at least be able to meet her at eye level.
"You know, I possess plenty prior memories of bleeding, but I believe this would be the first time that I as an independent being have ever bled myself," Mifuyu commented as she rubbed her backhand on the cut and wiped away the trickling blood. "If I may be so bold to ask," She eyed the long, segmented tail and stinger coming out Yachiyo's bent-over backside. "Why in the world are you dressed as an arachnid creature?"
"It's… Complicated," Yachiyo in turn slipped her appearance back into her more familiar human shape like a simple change of clothes, then slid her spooky mask up as if it were a cheap Halloween accessory. "I came to practice immersion therapy on myself. Tried to get into the mindset of a witch. Then when I sensed you mucking around here, I took it as an opportunity to vent some pent-up frustration with myself. And do it on the creep who I thought was the instigator."
"Oh." Mifuyu simply nodded her head in response. "I must say, you really had me going there for a bit." She covered up an embarrassed smile with her hand.
"Uh-Huh," Yachiyo said curtly. She was still not totally convinced this faker was on the level, but she did seem to nail her absent friend's mannerisms far better than that other one. "That one almost duped me into becoming her pawn in an assassination plot, but I came to my senses before it was too late."
"Thank goodness," The representation of her friend breathed a little sigh of relief as she dabbed the blood off with a poofy ball of wool attached to her garment.
"But not before she'd left behind a booby trap of sorts, in the form of an entity that latched itself onto the dormant witch within my subconscious, took control and started leeching off the darkness in me like a parasite, biding its time until the day it grew strong enough to bait then overtake the real me , I figured." She divulged. "But I made the gross and stupid mistake of letting Tsuruno join me in here, and it made the jump into her instead."
"Oh, nooo!" Mifuyu gasped, a display of concern more visceral than anything the previous impostor was willing to show. "Is she okay? Please, please tell me she-"
"We took her straight to The Coordinator's place," Yachiyo interrupted. "Who had to place her body and her Soul Gem into a type of stasis. For now she's stabilized, if you could call being crammed inside an oversized Christmas tree ornament as such."
"If Tsuruno is in that much peril, then why in the world are you dilly-dallying down here in witch cosplay and not doing everything you can to aid her recovery?" She asked in a way that was equal parts probing and scolding.
"It's because I've been trying to get a nap in while The Coordinator figures out what to do next!" Yachiyo snapped back in self defense. "And as much as I hate relying on that price-gouging prima donna, it's my fault Tsuruno wound up like that in the first place, and without you around the closest thing I know to an expert on Soul Gems and magical girl physiology is her! So I'm letting her work!"
"Point taken," Mifuyu breathed and calmed, not ignorant of the fact that if it weren't for Yachiyo's catnap, her SOS attempt would've failed. Yet it may have also been the very first time she had ever experienced a loss in temper, she had not prepared herself for that kind of sudden emotional whirlwind. "But still, of all the ways to confront me, why would you do it so aggressively?"
"Because I was trying to scare you before eliminating you once and for all," Yachiyo vented all her pent-up frustration in the admission. "I wanted you, that is, the malevolent Mifuyu I mistook you for, to experience the very same fear her creation tried pumping into me every night I went to bed!" She explained with vengeful droplets of spittle ejecting from her teeth before finally calming down. "I took the idea from a professional wrestler, a fellow who dresses as a monster to take down the bad guys in the ring."
"Ooooh, you're talking about that match we attended when we were sixteen, back when we entered that raffle contest and won!" Mifuyu recalled.
"Yeeeeah," Yachiyo exhaled, her remnant anger subsiding. "But how did you figure out I wasn't the thing I was pretending to be?"
"I caught a glimpse of your precious baby-blues once we finally clashed up close and personal," Mifuyu answered. "They were hidden underneath those creepy holes, but they still belonged to my friend Yachie Nanami, no mistake. That's how I also recalled the time you and I tried experimenting with our appearances in our dreams!" She harkened back to when they were thirteen. "You remember the start of middle school, when we got a little cheeky and blew up the size of our b-"
"I remember, I remember!" Yachiyo interrupted again. "You know, for not being the actual Mifuyu, you sure seem to know an awful lot about our past!" She observed.
"That was also thanks to Nemu's talents," Her friend recounted. "For a good while, they made quite the team-up! They even managed to pull off that miraculous ritual that connects two hearts and minds… That thing that only Coordinators are supposed to be able to initiate!"
"I'm pretty sure that's just something The Coordinator tells us so we keep paying her handsome ransoms," Yachiyo quipped. "Still that is impressive. And through that technique, that girl learned all she ever needed to know about Mifuyu," She concluded. "So where's Mifuyu now? Can I speak with the real her?"
"I am sorry," The copy shook her head in almost palpable sorrow. "So sorry. We are not certain of what exactly occurred, but we believe she exhausted the last of her magic trying to save Nemu."
"Do you mean to tell me that she's…" Yachiyo's mouth dropped and her heart sank to her stomach. "Gone?" She asked in a somber tone that was meant to convey the question's subtext.
"Worse!" But the less emotionally sensitive duplicate of Mifuyu missed the meaning behind the question. "She is being milked for her energy, by the very creatures that came as a result of Nemu's wish!"
"Yaaaaaah- Cheeeeeeee- Ooooooohhhhhh!" A low, distorted voice from the world above was followed by a shaking of the whole, crumbled land around them. "Yaaaaaaah- Cheeeeeee- Ooooooooooh!"
"Damn! Impeccable flipping timing!" Yachiyo yelled.
"Sounds like someone out there is about to wake you up," Mifuyu noted. "I wish I had the time to tell you everything you need to know." She knew she wasn't going to have more than a few sentences left to speak, so she cut right to the chase. "Hop aboard the late train headed for Mitakihara east. Once you get there, we shall be sending you an emissary with the details you need to get you up to speed before you take on the mission."
"Yaaaaaaaah- Cheeeeee- Oooooooh!" The dream had been reduced to little more than the pair standing underneath a bright white light.
"Eh? What mission?" And the light was fading fast.
"You have to rescue Nemu!" Mifuyu insisted. "I know you have the strength to succeed where I failed!"
"And why should I abandon one of my only surviving friends to risk my skin saving a stranger?" Yachiyo's spurt of callousness took Mifuyu by surprise.
"Yachie… I know your true weakness, and that is helpless children!" Mifuyu reminded her. "Plus her magic could be potent enough that she may be able to help Tsuruno!"
"Really? What can she do?"
"Yaaaaaaaaah- Cheeeeeee- Ooooooooh!" Whatever Mifuyu's answer was, the loud ringing of her name in her ears precluded any possibility of hearing it. Her brain could sense the rest of her body quaking, too, they were trying to shake her clean out of her slumber.
"Gaaaaaah!" Yachiyo grunted in frustration. "Alright I'll do it! But I've already got a troublemaking kid of my own to look after. Prove to me this is legitimate and not another trick or delusion!" The dream had withered to a point where it was just their two forms illuminated by the light of their souls. "Tell me something about Mifuyu she'd never told me."
"You want me to share a thought only the real Mifuyu would have had?" The magical reproduction of Yachiyo's fallen friend summed. "Okay," She had to think quickly. "You know when you two were at that wrestling event, and there was that rude guy next to us who started hitting on you? And you brushed him off by telling him you were there with your girlfriend?"
"Yeah," The details of that event were still fresh in Yachiyo's rapidly-awakening brain. "What about it?"
"When you took her hand, there was something Mifuyu wanted to do in return, but she was too reluctant to try, because she was afraid of what that might say about herself." The last thing Yachiyo saw was a puckered set of lips coming full speed for hers.
"Yachiyooo!" The next thing she knew, her lips were wet and moist. As was her hair, her forehead, brows, nose and cheeks.
"Sheesh!" Yachiyo wiped away the ice-cold water dripping down her face with a pillowcase. "What'd you do that for?"
"Because you weren't waking up!" Before her stood Momoko's middle school trainees, Rena and Kaede. Rena was holding a dripping red cup in her hand. "We were worried!"
"Has there been a change in Tsuruno's condition?" Yachiyo sat up on the futon situated in front of the three meter wide, stained glass window that symbolized and advertised The Coordinator's headquarters nestled inside a half-finished, abandoned warehouse in lower Shinsei Ward.
"Nope," Rena replied, folding her arms. "The Coordinator's busy trying to figure out if whatever you infected her with is contagious. Momoko's in the isolation room being her nurse."
"Momoko's very angry with you, too." Kaede added. Between the two Rena was the only one wearing her magical attire. Kaede was in her school uniform, with a white bunny backpack and clutching a diminutive plush doll with skimpy arms, legs and main body, but with a giant head and prominent crown atop its long, flowing locks. To Yachiyo they were a possible sign the young lady had mentally regressed in reaction to learning The Truth.
"And she should be," Yachiyo rubbed her eyes as she stood up. "I made one poor, overconfident decision after another, and because of that we're all faced with this rubbish mess."
"Apologize if ya' wanna, but that's not why we woke you up," Rena pointed at a shattered glass casing planted across the room. "The brat stole some things and amscrayed." From the barely-contained level of disdain in her voice, she could only have been referring to Felicia.
"What was in there?"
"Toy dolls," Kaede answered. "Then after she took off, the smaller girl went after her."
"You guys didn't try and stop them?"
"Hey, we're not babysitters!" Rena objected. "Be grateful we told you as soon as we did!"
"Then will you please go track them down for me, anyway?" Yachiyo requested. "I…" She hesitated. "Have to go."
"You're just going to leave without telling Tsuruno goodbye?" Kaede stepped into Yachiyo's path.
"You're right," Yachiyo immediately relented, rather ashamed that she was about to excuse herself without paying the patient the courtesy of a visit. "I do owe her that much." She stepped over to the entrance to the isolation chamber, turned the handle and opened the door. "Huh?" But waiting inside was nothing more than a broom closet.
"You have to pay the toll to be granted access," Kaede informed her.
"What's the toll?" The impatient Yachiyo queried.
"What else?" Rena rolled her eyes. "Magic." Her eyes fixated on an indent in the wall next to the door. "Stick your Soul Gem in there."
"I see," Yachiyo complied. "That greedy little-" She stopped herself before they could overhear anything vulgar.
"C'mon, Rena!" Kaede tugged her one-and-only friend by the arm. "Even if you don't like Felicia, that Yuma girl seemed really sweet."
"Fffffffffiiiiiiine," Rena begrudgingly went along with her.
"She can refashion an entire space so it's bigger on the inside," Yachiyo observed upon feeding in the correct amount of energy. "Like a labyrinth. How?" She asked herself in a slight twinge of envy.
"Wellwellwell," The Coordinator herself, Mitama Yakumo greeted Yachiyo upon entry. "If it isn't the asymptomatic patient zero herself!" A rather backhanded greeting.
"There's no need to antagonize Yachiyo, Mitama," Momoko stepped over. "Not when I'm about to!" She raised her right palm ready to apply a megaton-level slap to the side of Yachiyo's face. And Yachiyo was going to make no effort to flinch or stop her.
"Now, now!" But Mitama grabbed her wrist and stopped it. "That's no etiquette for a gentle caregiver to have." While Momoko still donned her normal clothes, The Coordinator was adorned in full magical girl attire, with an outward appearance most similar to a waiter, butler, or other high-end servant. She wore a three-piece suit, the bottom layer being a dark blue and white collared dress, with white frills around shoulders and blue ones at the dress's trim. The second bit was the vest around her waist, four-buttoned in a manner resembling a magician's suit. The top part capped off the veneer of formality, with a sleeveless black-and-blue coat that was strapped together via a gold chain attached to two jeweled buttons at the waist. She had short white gloves with a golden band at the wrist. Her hair was just as shiny and clean, braided on her right side down the front and featured a long ponytail down the back. A pair of blue roses and her Soul Gem brought it all together, with one rose attaching to a frilly tie strap around her neck, and the other placed just above her left ear. Her gem was a little 'X'-shaped piece pinned to a black ribbon at the point where the hair braids started trailing down.
"Spare me your usual flirty repertoire and just lay it on me straight. " Yachiyo approached their subject encased inside a large, tinted glass globe. Her body's outline was silhouetted and suspended in a falling position, like a mummified corpse who had been caught vulnerable in a pyroclastic flow. The only sign that she was alive at all came from her Soul Gem on a table nearby, still orange and flickering, but it had three specially re-crafted Support Stones attached around it which were keeping a tar-black pooling of darkness congealed at its base from overtaking the rest.
"What would a non-invested observer see as the difference, functionally speaking, between a magical girl and a witch?" Mitama posed a question to the two young ladies before her.
"A magical girl is a being of hope, born from the uplifting desires of a wish, while a witch is a creature of despair, hatching from the despair brought about by curses." Yachiyo answered first.
"Yesyes, we were all there for Kyubey's pitch meeting," Mitama steepled her fingers before her rather sizable bust.
"Magical girls can still pass as human, while witches have turned into things so abhorrent they've gotta hide themselves in another dimension," Momoko followed with her own more nuanced and somewhat jaded take.
"More important, what the hell does your question have to do with whatever's afflicted Tsuruno?" Yachiyo brusquely asked.
"My point is, now that we are all aware of The Truth, what we used to perceive as a binary distinction I postulate is in fact more of a Venn diagram of shared commonalities and semi-related differences," The Coordinator theorized. "Or perhaps it'd be more accurate to call it a spectrum?"
But for Yachiyo time was of the utmost essence. "Again what's this got to do with-"
"Second point is, what if there exists magical girls whose wishes were curses, and exhibited witch-like traits as a result?" She proposed. "Traits such as the spontaneous spawning of familiars, which have the ability to grow and evolve independent of the original magical girl's fate?" She put her hand to the spherical casing around Tsuruno's body. "I believe that is what we're now witnessing."
"You're saying that's what's trying to feed off Tsuruno's soul?" Momoko knit her brow.
"Yes," Mitama nodded. "Some familiars are said to imitate flora, such as pitcher plants and fly traps, while rarer ones emulate fauna, like say, rival magical girls," She elaborated. "Would it be such a stretch to imagine a new breed of intelligent thought familiar that seeks gain the ability to manifest in our material world?"
"It sounds absurd, but it does track with the behavior I witnessed inside my dreams," Yachiyo confirmed. "It moved into her because it was unable to evolve any further inside me." She viewed the glowing matter percolating inside the gem. A talon-like claw reached out from the gooey blackness, only to have its tips dissolved away by the Support Stones on each side.
"Well if it's just a piddly familiar, then let's beat it out of her before it grows and shatters her gem!" Momoko bopped her fist into her palm.
"Let's not be too gung-ho about performing an exorcism," Mitama cautioned. "After all, this thing is smart, and it's already made a fool of one of the best of us." Mitama shot Yachiyo with a demeaning smile just as punchy as any slap Momoko could've given. "Not to mention, we don't even know how to attempt it. So I recommend we treat this problem like a biological one, and trace its origins back to its original host. And should we determine whoever that is, then perhaps we'll have a better clue about how to proceed."
"I'm afraid doing that'll lead us nowhere but another dead end," Yachiyo disclosed. "Hanna Sarasa's toast, and before she was slain she mentioned the girl she swiped her powers from as having turned into a witch, too," She exposited. "Her name was 'Mi-' Something. "'Mikasa' or 'Michiko' or 'Mihoko' or…" Her voice trailed. "Dammit!" But the only name on her mind was 'Mifuyu,' and the fact that Tsuruno's needs continued being a secondary concern despite this being the more tangible crisis filled her heart with shame, frustration and self-loathing.
"But we need to do something!" Momoko expressed a separate-but-similar tract of exasperation."
"I don't disagree," Yachiyo sympathized with a long, heavy sigh followed by a gulping breath. "I'm sorry, Tsuruno, I've been a poor friend." She strode up to the globe, put her hand to it and spoke. "I should never have compelled you to fight my battle for me. There are many ways to show one's true strength," She whispered. "And when it comes to showing a willingness to put your life on the line for the sake of others, you have me far outclassed. I'm aware that's rather cold comfort right now, for the both of us, and I regret that I must leave you alone once again so as to pursue a selfish whim. I only ask that you hold out 'til I return. And if we're lucky," She uttered, having a hard time holding back the tears through the trembling tenor in her voice. "That is, if there is some imperceptible deity watching over us who guides us through the foggy forests of our own selfish compulsions and emotional hang-ups towards the light, then I'll come back with someone who may hold the key to saving you."
"Wait! Where ya' going?" Momoko caught her just as she'd turned and rushed for the door.
"To Mitakihara." She stood there with her back turned, unable to face Momoko's glare.
"That's it? That's all you're gonna give me?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I explained," Yachiyo nudged the door open, making it creak. "So I'm not going to waste precious seconds doing it."
"Tch!" Momoko turned her back in kind. "Jerk!"
"Don't worry about that lil' lass of yours, my dear," Mitama offered a somewhat more warm-hearted farewell. "I'll serve her a fresh-cooked breakfast discounted to three hundred and fifty Yen!"
In the bad old days, whenever she wanted to be alone, Yuma would sneak out at night and head for the nearest playground. That's where she would go to contemplate her own existence, its meaning, and whether she was put on this earth solely to suffer in the stead of grownups. She would first climb aboard the merry-go-round and do a belly flop. Climb up the slide and do another belly flop. Journey to the jungle gym, proceed to the top and do yet another belly flop. Always seeking out that highest point from which to fall, so that one day gravity may play the role of her ultimate savior.
But having the tenacity to chase Kyoko around the city and get rewarded by coming into Yachiyo's care mitigated those urges drastically. But in the back of her mind that voice telling her that she was still a worthless runt, reliant upon those whom she burdens. Never going to be able to change. And things would be much better if she weren't here at all.
From the moment she laid eyes upon her, Yuma sensed Felicia to be a kindred spirit of sorts, albeit not in the literal sense of engaging in self-destructive thoughts, but rather with a tendency towards running for a secluded safe space well away from any grownup eyes and grownup problems. It was on that hunch that brought Yuma to this place, a playground at the southern end of Shinsei Ward, alighted by the blinking aircraft warning lights of the wind turbines soaring above.
"It's no use, Kugo!" Yuma heard someone yakking behind the sand dune compiled underneath the big, winding slide. "The Gigantopotamasaurus is too humongous and it's keeping the last Decagon Ball on its head! There's no way yer gonna be able to climb up all the way without it squashin' ya' like a bug!"
"A 'Giganto-what'?" Yuma sheepishly intruded on Felicia's fun. "Is that in Decagon Ball, too?" From one look she could also tell that Felicia was just going through the motions of fun. That she had a lot of other stuff on her mind that she wasn't about to discuss willingly with a brat like her.
"Naw, I jus' made it up," Felicia admitted without giving Yuma the courtesy of a look. "Big word for a big monster. 'Cuz the bigger the word, the bigger the monster, ya' get it?" She had in her possession two toys that had been forcibly removed from the display case at The Coordinator's hangout. It didn't take an expert to determine they were a pair of Decagon Ball action figures. Both were in near-mint condition, until Felicia started sticking them feet-first into the rocky playground sands, that is.
"Oh," Yuma nodded. "Didja take those just so you could play with them?"
"Baw! They were mine in the first place!" Felicia revealed. "Traded this one 'cuz there was this one time I forgot to eat after witch huntin' all night but I didn't have no allowance left, so Mitama told me she'd cook me one of her bestest specials in exchange." Her stomach growled in reflexive anger at the memory of the ensuing meal. Right after she started eating at Banbanzai when Tsuruno told her she could just open a tab, before she discovered what that phrase meant. "And this one I traded after she told me she could sell me this very special stone that would let me never have to worry about stashin' Grief Seeds ever again!"
"Oh," Yuma got on her knees and crawled underneath a metal support beam in the way. "So where's the big, bad monster thing?" She surveyed the scene Felicia had set up around her, with twigs, large pebbles and discarded aluminum cans serving the role of stand-in players. "Is it that?" She pointed at a dirt and sand mound that had by all evidence been very recently compiled.
"That's just Aiga the Living Temple," Felicia clarified. "I'm Gigantopatamasaurus." She didn't know why she'd volunteer such information. It's not like she'd invited Yuma along to play in the first place. "I cause the problems of anyone who ever thinks they'll fix the things wrong with me."
"You do?" Yuma reached out and touched one of the twigs in the sand. If Felicia didn't object to it, then she was going to interpret it as her cue to join in. "Can I be a monster too?"
"Wha-?" The request took Felicia by surprise. "Why would ya' wanna be one of the bad guys?"
"Because Yuma's bad too," She confessed, slipping back into referencing herself in the third person. A childish method of coping with her most depressing worries, doubts and fears. "Yuma killed her parents."
"Ehhhhhhhhhh?" Felicia snorted and her eyes bugged out.
"It's truuuuueee," Yuma confessed in a hiccuping sob. "Yuma hated mommy and daddy! Every night Yuma went to bed wishing something bad would happen to them, so they'd stop hitting me and picking on me, and then my wish came true and it came and gobbled them up! Doesn't that make Yuma the witch who got them killed?"
"Nah-Ahhh, it doesn't work like that," Felicia corrected. "Witches don't come outta people jus' 'cuz wanna see somethin' bad happen to someone they hate." But as she talked she realized she couldn't speak as any sort of authority on the matter. The only one who ever told her anything about witches' origins was Kyubey, who simply said that they eat peoples' hearts from the inside out. From that nugget she'd always assumed they were just like that alien creature from that foreign movie her dad loved watching but always sent her to bed before putting on the DVD. She couldn't remember its name, but he had no clue she had been peeking out from behind the door and would catch that one key scene in all its gory detail. "Ya' ain't dead or nuthin' so it couldn't've come from you." He promised she'd be able to see it with him once she was older. She'd been looking forward to seeing the surprise on his face once they got to that scene and she wouldn't get grossed out. But that was never going to happen now. All because of what that no good witch had taken from her.
"But if Yuma didn't cause the witch," The young lady sniffled. "Where do you 'spose it came from?"
"Hell if I know!" Felicia took the toy doll in her hand and kicked her jaw with its foot, ostensibly still roleplaying. "I wasn't there." Out of the blue Yuma took her fist and pounded the top of the mound, flattening its peak. "Hey! What're ya' doin'?"
"I'm Gigantopotamalossus's minion," Yuma picked up one of the twigs and snapped it in half. "Once a normal good little witch girl who got corrupted by the forces of dark magic!"
"It's 'Gigantopotamasaurus'," Felicia grunted in annoyance. "Ya' pest, quit pissin' me off." She grabbed the other figurine from its planted spot and replanted it beside Yuma. "It's brought along Pistis, its pesky slave!" The girl was too persistent to leave her alone, she knew that, so she rolled along with it. "Brillin, yer gonna haveta keep it busy while I battle Gigantopotamasaurus!" And even though she put on an air of wanting to be left alone, what she wanted more was somebody open to learning about her interests, learn her language in a way, even if understanding it was tricky. Which was to say, a friend.
"Watch ouuuuuuut!" Yuma moved the doll out of the way of her pounding fist. "Kugo," She took on the character of the protagonist's sidekick. "If this monster used to be a girl, then what do you 'spose Gigantaotatothingus came from?"
"'Gigantopotamasaurus'!" Felicia barked. "Geez!" She attached her figure to the collar of her shirt, making it look as though it were hanging on for dear life. "Heroes don't care where bad guys came from… Their job is to beat 'em up and save the day!"
"In the shows I watch the heroes try to understand why the bad guys are being evil in the first place," Yuma broke character to relay that tidbit. "Kugo, I'm sorry, but I have to try and break the spell and save the girl inside!"
"Uuunnnnggghhh!" It was one thing for Felicia to allow this nuisance in on her activity, quite another to let her take control of the narrative. "Dummy, ya' don't stand a chance unless you make a wish with the Decagon Balls!" But she was in no mood to argue it, either. There were a load of other things on her mind, and playing with her toys could only do so much to distract her from them. "Here!" She flipped a well-polished larger pebble over to the younger girl. "Jus' one of those things can push yer power level way past nine thousand!" Like, in the aftermath of that dream session, why was Yachiyo so insistent on rushing Tsuruno to the Coordinator's after she wouldn't wake up?
"What about you, Kugo?" Yuma acted in character. "Without all seven you won't be able to take your Hyperian form!"
"Don't worry about me!" Felicia played along while the gears started turning and turning slowly in her head. "With all my power, I'm jus' tyin' to keep this a fair fight! Ha!" She decked herself with the fist of the toy, wrapping around it with her own bigger fist to make the punch appear more powerful. "Oof!" She smacked it away with a little applied force from her other hand. "Kugo Katok'ra won't be beaten that easy!" And why did she and the Coordinator go to such lengths to ensure she couldn't see whatever was up with Tsuruno's Soul Gem?
"I know you're still in there somewhere, fight it!" Yuma implored. "Please come back to us!" She started shaking the fancy pebble up and down in a rapid motion like it was some sort of miracle-making totem. "Don't let your bad thoughts control how you see the world!"
"I've got it!" Felicia fist-pumped. "I've got the Decagon Ball on its head!" Felicia promptly bucked the figurine off her head to the ground, then pressed it into the sand with her hand. "Unnnngh!" And though most of the details of that hypnotic dream episode eluded her conscious memory, she did sort of recall encountering a Yachiyo-shaped imp over her shoulder, trying to goad her into doing something she knew was bad, but for some reason she couldn't resist the urge. "Baaaaaaam!" She pounded and pounded her toy with her fist out of frustration over not remembering more, to the point of distraction. "Boooooom!"
"Kugoooooooo!" Yuma flicked her pebble and it smacked her in the forehead right between the eyes.
"Owwwww!" Felicia scolded. "Watchit, idiot!"
"It worked, Kugo!" Yuma had taken out her most recent prized possession, the magical girl toy Yachiyo had given her that Felicia had damaged. "She's back to who she was before!" She announced, keeping in character as the protagonist's sidekick. "Papa, Papa, Papa!" Then she switched voices, waving her plaything up and down. "You mustn't keep hurting him like thaaaat!"
"Eeeeeeehhh?" Felicia snarled, agitated and befuddled by Yuma's insistence on hijacking the narrative.
"It's true, Kugo!" She slid right back into the sidekick's role. My Sssupahscannah says you and her carry the same hybrid blood!"
"Whatwhatwhat?" Felicia gawked.
"Papa, Paaapaaa!" Yuma had her doll turned to address Felicia directly. "Please stop hurting the nice man! He's just trying to help the world as best as he can!" She stuck it into sand between Felicia and the poor protagonist figure embedded in the sand.
"Unnnnggggghh!" All of a sudden, Felicia didn't feel so good. There was an intensifying pain in her gut, akin to feeling constipated, it was a certain recognizable type of sting.
"Kugo, don't you get what this means?" Yuma swapped right back into playing the sidekick. "Gigantopotamongus is you after harnessing the negative power of the Decagon Balls!" She adopted a lower, huskier tone as a way to better distinguish her two characters.
"It's 'Gigantopotamasaurus'! And that's stupid!" Felicia criticized. "The Decagon Balls grant wishes and give you a power up!" It took her quite a while to figure out what the source of the sensation was. "They don't have positive or negative vibes like that!" It happened right after she killed her first witch, when an upstart swooped in and tried to snatch away her Grief Seed. "Stop makin' so much new crap up, idiot!" She thought nothing of the pain at the time, chalking it up to first day jitters.
"It's truuuuuuuuuue!" Yuma switched to an even higher voice than her normal one for her magical girl persona. "Aymu came from the future and she was sent back to this world to protect Papa and stop the bad thing that makes him cast a curse on the world and turn into Gigantopothesaurus Rex!"
"Grrrrr… For the last time, it's Giganto-" Felicia stopped. "Guh, forget it!" She scooped into the dirt and relinquished her doll over to Yuma. If her gut wasn't gonna behave itself, then her mood would be dipping right south with it. "Hmph!" And it was Yachiyo's fault. Because it was the sensation she only got whenever another emotionally riled magical girl was close and on the move. And it didn't take a lot of magical talent or brains to innately know that the only magical girl more in the dumps right now than her was the person responsible. "Do whatcha wanna!" She retreated into a curled up position in the corner. But moving over left her Soul Gem, being used as an extra prop, sitting in the sand in the open between them.
"Kugo, do you remember what our Master taught us about perfect balance?" Yuma dipped right back into her lower voice. "For every push, there's a pull? For every up, there's a down?" She had the two main figures in her hand and had them facing each other. "Wouldn't that make the same true of wishes? To keep the world in balance, the Decagon Balls would have to be capable of creating curses, too, right?"
"Waaaaait, you said you didn't know anythin' about Decagon Ball before!"
"Lucky guess," Yuma fibbed. She had indeed caught the occasional episode while waiting for her program to follow. But she was no loremaster, she only remembered the old mentor man because he wore cool shades and reminded her of her dear grandpa. "But am I right? Aren't the Decagon Balls able to do evil, too?"
"Well duh, of course they are!" Felicia huffed. "That's why all the bad guys want 'em!"
"Hey, so do you think that might be true in the real world, too?" Yuma followed up. "Do you think there are things out there capable of doing both great good and great harm because of being what they are?" She noticed a small change in Felicia's expression, to what looked like a more pensive one, but was it because she'd pieced together what Yuma was trying so hard to verbalize the right way, or because she was burying her head even deeper in the sand?
"Hey!" Whatever the cause was, it made Felicia too slow to stop Yuma from snatching her Soul Gem away. "That's mine! Give it back!"
"Stay back, Brillin," Yuma improvised a third voice, an impression of Felicia's impression of the main character figurine as she put the gem in its fisted hands. "I'm gonna stop all this runaway chaos by using the Master Decagon Ball to suck in all the world's wicked hexes at once! It's the only way to stop Gigantopopoopoo from happening in the first place!" She scooched under the support beams and away from Felicia's grips. "Goodbye! Wish me luck, Aymu!" She ducked underneath the slide and across the park.
"Master Decagon Ball?" Felicia crawled after her. "Ya' dumbo brat! Stop!"
"It's working!" Yuma held the gem out for Felicia to see. "The black stu- Oooof!" Then she ran into something hard as she was looking backward and not ahead. The inertia sent Felicia's Soul Gem flying forward.
"Hey, watch where yer goin'!" The angry object she smacked herself against scolded her. It was Rena, with Kaede in toe but a few steps behind. Kaede's reflexes were on point enough to catch the falling rock before it could roll onto the streets or into the gutters.
"You guys!" Felicia hissed. "Whaddaya doin' here!"
"Your Master Yachiyo sent us," Rena grabbed and picked Yuma up by the arm. "And you too." Kaede saw a sizable cloudy buildup within Felicia's gem and without a word cleared it away with her own pistachio-shaped and colored Support Stone.
"Did I ask you to clean my Gem?" Felicia yanked her possession away.
"Sorry," Kaede whimpered in apology.
"Don't apologize Kaede, geez," Rena rolled her eyes and shot Felicia a disdainful look. "She's just tryin' to prevent you from turnin' into an even bigger pain in the ass!"
"Whazzat 'sposed to mean?" Felicia returned a contemptuous, yet equally troubled look.
"Tch! You don't know?" Rena tilted her head and curled her lip.
"We are," Kaede uttered under heavy breath. "What we ha-"
"But Yachiyo said you should only learn it from someone you love!" Yuma interjected.
"Would you guys stop treating me like such a baby!" The exasperated Felicia yelled. "And tell me what the hell the big secret is already!"
The three girls before her all exchanged glances before speaking in accidental unison: "We're witches." Although Yuma received protracted stares from the other two for saying it as somebody with no Soul gem. "Yuma thought she could be the one to try," She mewled. "'Cuz Yuma knows what it's like to have no one who loves her."
Felicia didn't react. Not at first. For she was in actuality shocked by how little this was news to her. It had been a thought bouncing around the basement of her mind for quite some time, but she never had the temerity to open the door and pull the lightbulb string. Instead she'd ignore it, and distract herself with the fleeting pleasures of food, fun and fighting, as any child would cope with their underlying self-resentment. "Blllllaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggggh!" Yet at some moment all that bottled-in anxiety, aggression and anguish had to be expelled in some form. How odd that it tasted so much like hot chili-peppers.
"See, Kaede?" Rena addressed her friend. "You're not the only one who hates being a witch so much it makes you throw up."
"Blllaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggggggghh!"
"And plus you only did it once," She joked, covering Kaede's eyes with the soft plush doll's belly. Tasteless crack aside, she was fighting the urge to look away herself. Even if she didn't much like Felicia, the girl didn't deserve to face this excruciating revelation all alone.