Edited by: CreatedToWrite
Chapter 17
Ever Changing Normality
"Starting to wonder if Atlantis is even real, or if I made it all up."
A snort bubbled up my nose. I tilted the book in my hands down to look at Gura. "Somehow, between Atlantis being real, or you having a couple of screws loose, both ideas are completely plausible."
"You are such a funny cookie, Hunter." The shark girl at the other side of the table replied in a deadpanned tone, not bothering to look away from the laptop in front of her.
The sound of paper shuffling interwoven with the sharp taps of a keyboard soon came back as the sole source of music in the apartment. It had been a good and short distraction – a well deserved break from all that tedious research.
Back to work…
Boredom had been a problem, like a devil constantly perched on my shoulder. Despite all my attempts to keep it at bay, it always managed to talk my ear off.
Today, however, I came prepared.
Last time, I had fought using my good 'ol and reliable: Books. Sadly, books had failed me, leaving me to my tragic demise. Battered, hurt, and betrayed, I chose to follow the wise guidance of a majestic Phoenix and went with a new weapon to finally vanquish boredom…
Books! …again, but this time, they weren't fiction-based!
As soon as I got out of bed this morning, I made a call to Enma and asked for any books, documents, and files that had a link to Atlantis or the ocean. Not even an hour later, an employee from Cover Corp – alongside two whole containers charged with books and papers – came knocking at my door.
Gura had talked about wanting to find answers about her circumstances, and I had promised to help in any way I could think of. The new stacks of literature that now engulfed the kitchen table was the help.
The fact that it could swat the devil on my shoulder was simply a bonus. A very nice bonus.
Thus, Gura and I tore through each book with great curiosity, drinking every word inked on the pages. A lot of these tomes were new to us, which meant new information to dive into. Some were old; the paper inside was tainted with oxidation, specks of dust stuck in the crevices. Some were inscribed in foreign languages, forcing us to rely on technology to gain access to its content.
If the tomes didn't have enough writing and drawn illustrations, the document and files on similar cases certainly covered what was lacking. Names, locations, pictures; each document was chock full of information about Myths.
A shaman capable of controlling rain. A devil on a "trip" to learn more about human culture, and a fox girl who…was a complete "otaku"...
Each new case and file I had the misfortune of reading kept upping the lunacy factor, to the point where the concept of Atlantis and Phoenixes felt as normal as humans having two arms on each side of their torso.
Despite all the craziness that each document contained, I still honed my focus to the task at hand. Any mention of a city under an ocean, or of a Myth with an aquatic-like feature on their body, I would note it down and discuss it with Gura.
Our mission had begun with excitement and determination. Each information was carefully combed through, analyzed, and reviewed with care as we did our best to solve the mystery of Atlantis and its people.
Slowly, we were piecing out stray information, connecting each find to a similar one to create a theory.
Slowly, we progressed forward and did our best to glue the evidence together to form…something…
Anything…
And slowly, we were losing patience.
Each theory we crafted would get demolished by new facts, details would overlap in ways that didn't match with Gura's memory; every obstacle in our research would spell failure. Sometimes, we'd have a possible solution that made sense with two books as proof, only to read the next sentence and having it all crumble down into nothingness.
It was as if we were trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle, but each 3 or 4 piece was for a completely different picture than the one on the box.
I didn't help that some of these "foreign" languages were synonymous with "dead and forgotten". No translation app on the web could help us decipher whatever had been drawn on some of these pages.
To summarize the whole situation: We were frustrated.
All this new information, only to fall back to square one A.K.A. knowing nada about Atlantis.
Even Gura was starting to doubt her own memories, all 9000 years of it. If it wasn't for her shark appendage – which was currently slapping the chair angrily like how a cat would with its tail when angered – I would've had doubts of my own.
So, here we were, Gura on the laptop for the last two hours trying her best to find anything about a dead language for the book beside her, while I was checking each documented case of Cover Corp – currently reading about a girl with dog features who liked to play games.
We weren't giving up–
"I wanna give up." Gura whined as she let her body relax, looking like a puppet with her strings cut as she stared at the ceiling.
…we were very close to giving up, however.
The door of the apartment slammed open. "I'm home~!" Kiara sang as she waltzed in.
I turned around to see Kiara put a ridiculous amount of bags on the floor. Once again, most of the clothes she was wearing were brightly colored, making her stand out like a sun in a cloudless sky.
"How's the research going?" She asked as she flicked her sunglasses up on her head, offering us a grin.
Her question was met with silence.
The harsh, angry sound of a blunt object meeting plastic interrupted said silence. Both Kiara and I turned to catch the source of the noise.
Gura's forehead was pressed against the laptop's keyboard.
I turned back to face Kiara, who was currently cringing at the sight.
"Something like that." I replied to her question.
An error sound effect played from the laptop – it was signaling that too many keys were being pressed.
Gura didn't get up.
"Sheesh, sorry I asked." She weakly laughed, taking a seat at the table. She scanned the surface of it for a bit before picking one of the tomes at random, opening it with one hand. Her eyes quickly glided across the paper; flicking a couple of pages with her thumb.
I sent her a nod. "Anything familiar?"
"A few…" She lowly hummed, her attention glued to the book in her hand, the other one mindlessly grabbing one of the files on the table. "...but nothing about Atlantis."
"Have you ever heard about it? Personally, I mean." Gura sighed out, almost pleading for a positive answer. Her shoulders sank when the Phoenix shook her head.
"How the hell is it so hidden?" I groaned at no one specifically, venting out my frustration. It made no sense for us to have this much problem with the issue; we had Cover Corps' resources, Gura, and thousands of different iterations on the legendary sunken city.
It's almost as if the more popular a legend or myth was, the more impossible it became to find.
"From my experience, the more rumors and legends something has, the more buried the truth becomes." Kiara replied, as if she read my thoughts like an open book. "Example: This case." She followed with a quick snap of her fingers, sliding a document across the table my way. I stopped it with the palm of my hand, shooting my gaze to the first thing that caught my attention.
The photograph of a woman with black hair and clothes that resembled one of a shrine maiden gazed back – even smiling my way.
The eerie eye color, fluffy ears on top of her head, and shiny canines made it clear that she wasn't a normal woman.
"Alright, time's up!" Kiara snatched the file away from me before I could read anything about it. I couldn't help the frown that overcame my features, giving the fire chicken a displeased look. Her response was to snort, before hiding the paper away.
"Tell me, what kind of Myth do you think this young lady is?" She quizzed, raising a finger in tandem. Confusion washed over any emotion. Was she testing me or something?
I let my eyes fall down to the table, ordering my brain to recall the limited information I had. She had animal features, and prominent canines; my imagination conjured a werewolf, but she looked a bit too clean to be one in my book.
Then again, I had never seen a werewolf in my life…
Still, I decided she wasn't that kind of Myth. She was definitely a wolf judging by the ears; I had seen a girl with dog traits and the two were way different. The clothes she was wearing was the only noticeable thing left I could bring forth in my head. The sole link I managed to meld together was that she was related to some shrine…or something.
I looked back up toward Kiara, who raised an eyebrow to prompt an answer out of me. "I would go with a wolf spirit…deity?"
"Interesting answer." She praised and nodded her head. I couldn't help smirking. My infallible logic had once again saved my ass. "Too bad the answer doesn't matter at all."
My right eye twitched violently as my smirk turned crooked.
The Shrimp across the table stifled a giggle underneath one of her hands, pointing her index finger at me with the other.
I raised a special finger toward her, making her gasp in indignation.
"Settle down, children." Kiara sighed. "Whatever. My point is, you described what you saw with the limited knowledge you had, right?"
"Yeah, so?" I curtly answered, crossing my arms. The Phoenix rolled her eyes with a chuckle.
"Stop pouting, you baby." She said. I wasn't pouting. "Now, what would be the best way to deal damage to a Myth like that?"
"Honestly? No idea." I shrugged, not even attempting to think this one through. Most of my knowledge about Myths was through a case-by-case basis. I wasn't a scholar in the territory, just a normal guy dealing with situations on the go. We hadn't met a Myth like that yet, therefore, I had done no research on this.
Besides, I wasn't going to have my feet pulled under again by some half-assed quiz. Fool me once…
"You're 27, dude. Stop glaring." She laughed as she shook her head. I wasn't glaring. "Anyway, what about vampires? What do you know about them?"
I blinked at that question. That was a sudden turn. I subconsciously put a hand on my chin as I did my best to recall everything I knew about vampires.
They were blood sucking creatures. They were weak to sunlight. They despised garlic. A wooden stake through their heart could kill them. Silver could also kill them. Holy water would burn them. Crosses would terrify them. They were immortal and capable of great feats of strength.
All of these were from mouth to ear, but almost every media or legend related to vampires would change things up. Some could be killed by beheading them. Some didn't need to consume human blood, while others couldn't drink or eat anything but human blood. Silver didn't affect all of them, garlic was ignored by most. Their immortality constantly switched rulebooks. Some would even begin to sparkle when in contact with sun-
"Too much." I whined discouragingly, letting my body slump over the chair. There was no way all of this was true. Most of them must've been complete garbage made for the convenience of writers and storytellers.
Unfortunately, if vampires truly existed – and it wouldn't surprise me if they did – trying to find some semblance of knowledge to defend myself against them would be futile.
"When something isn't too well known, it's much easier to locate and find out. Most witnesses will tell it how they saw it, with a few exaggerations here and there." Kiara spoke up, raising the file about the wolf woman toward me. "However, when it comes to legendary legends, it's harder to point out who's lying and who's telling the truth.
"At one point, it becomes fantasies and bedtime stories. It becomes harmless. Double for your world since movies and the internet are a thing."
After hearing all that, I couldn't help the explosive sigh of annoyance that came out of me.
What a troublesome concept. Even if it was akin to the most frustrating and hair-pulling game of Chinese Whispers, it made perfect logical sense. Too much, in fact.
After all, storytellers had the nasty habit of embellishing everything to make it more entertaining. Modern age or not, this was a constant. It wasn't an issue, usually.
Usually, people weren't aware of the existence of Myths. Writers and creators alike knew the line between reality and fiction; they would constantly shift both to their liking to make the most of their craft. Even readers of fiction like me knew that line, and knew when to cross it and be immersed. It's why anything remotely paranormal that happened in my vicinity, I'd find a clever scientific and rational solution as to why it happened.
It's why when I met Gura for the first time, I had waved off the bold claims she had spouted so confidently without asking for any clarifications.
It's why I didn't believe in fantasy and fictional impossibilities…until I saw the Atlantian control water magic like it was nothing.
Ever since, the line that separated both worlds had been shattered to dust. Fiction and reality were but a singular, blurry mash of concepts that intertwined for what seemed like infinity. It evolved the way I saw life, but it could corrupt things just as much, if not more.
Hence, small, harmless lies that would raise the spectacle factor in movies or books about silly things like vampires and werewolves, were now problematic catastrophes that made researching and fighting said creatures a arduous and life threatening task.
That is, if I ever met an aggressive vampire Myth. I wished for anything but a blood sucking undead.
"At this point, we'll never find anything about my home…" Gura muttered, a sharp edge of pessimism leaking through her words.
"Hey, it's a bummer for sure, but the task isn't impossible." I tried to sound cheerful about it, but her attitude was contagious. I couldn't, nor wanted to blame her for it. This whole day had been a pain in the ass.
Something vibrated against my thigh. My phone. I lazily got hold of it, swiping my thumbs up to unlock it.
"Ready to begin?" The message read on my screen. The sender was one familiar lioness Myth.
I sat straighter in my seat, the previous lethargy from the failure exorcized from my body. My action didn't go unnoticed by the two Myths in the room.
"Got some good news?" Kiara asked.
"Yeah, did you get confessed by a cute girl or something?" Gura mindlessly added as she propped her head up with one of her hands. "Be careful, most of them do it out of pity when guys get too clingy."
"First of all, that's an incredibly messed up thing to say." I stared at the shark girl with a deadpan expression – to which she smirked back at me. "Second, I finally got what I asked for. Gonna head out for a bit."
"Well, whatever it is you'll be doing, I hope it'll end up positive." The Phoenix smiled at me. I nodded a small thank you to her, slightly bowing my body.
"While you're doing that, I'll go ask the manager lady at Cover Corp if we can't get more material." Gura got up from her chair as well.
I turned around as I grabbed my coat and keys. "Nah. Stay home or go out and have some fun instead. I'll take care of that."
Gura narrowed her eyes.
"I can handle it. I'm a big girl, Hunter."
"You are, but you ain't a caretaker. Therefore, my job."
"Ugh, fine, whatever." She growled off, her nose wrinkling up as she crossed her arms and looked away. I gulped at that expression. That was a telltale sign of Gura being mad – most likely my fault.
"I'll…bring back some recent cases too, since I did promise you'd be the one to pick our next case…" I dragged out carefully. Her eyes zeroed in on me, causing me to flinch.
After a while, she sighed and relaxed her body posture. "Sure, alright."
I sneakily exhaled my worry away. Situation salva-
"What about me? You didn't even ask what I was doing, or what was in my bags."
I raised an eyebrow at the Phoenix.
"Uhh, I don't know, am I supposed to do something?"
"Aren't caretakers supposed to watch over us?"
"As long as you ain't causing issues or revealing to the world that you're a Myth, you have the freedom to go outside. I trust you two with that." I raised my shoulders helplessly, turning around and heading for the door.
Before I got to leave the apartment, Kiara managed to throw one last comment.
"You're a walking contradiction, Hunter!"
I had been told in the past that I wasn't the smartest when it came to understanding emotions and social cues.
"Thank you, thank you, I try my best!"
Despite my best effort to study about it, this felt like one of those moments.
"Way too tense in the shoulders, relax your posture a bit."
I did as I was told, exhaling the tenseness I felt in my muscles through my nose.
I lifted the pistol in my hands in front of me once again, ignoring the slight aching in my forearm. Who knew a real gun could be so heavy?
Closing one eye, I tried to focus on my aiming as best as I could.
I steadied my breathing; my body relaxed in response, making me stand still.
I pulled the trigger.
The shock of gunpowder exploding traveled through my flesh.
I returned to the previous position and fired again.
My arms kept rising upwards in response to the recoil, my shoulders taking most of the brunt.
One last shot, I fired.
My hands were sore, yet so tense from gripping the weapon tightly. As if I was scared that at any moment, it would leave my grasp and disappear.
"Alright, let's see the results! Don't forget about the safety." The person next to me cheerfully said. I thumbed the lock on the pistol to avoid the thing discharging accidentally. I even went one step further and took out the magazine and unloaded the current clip.
My target – a paper of a figure with bullseye marking – slowly approached me. I let my eyes roam it, searching for holes.
When I found them, I couldn't help but scowl at the results.
One of the bullets had hit the center of – most likely my first shot – but the other two were near the side and way down below, completely missing the mark.
"Looks like we'll be working on your recoil management, and maybe even the speed of your draw." I turned my head to look at my instructor: Shishiro Botan.
"Drawing faster? I can barely remember all the steps before shooting the damn thing." I groaned with a slight twinge of annoyance present in my voice. The lioness next to me simply chuckled, patting my shoulder.
"It's your first day of training, give yourself a chance."
After the trip to Alaska, one thing that had made itself incredibly clear was how powerless I was physically. Sure, I could somewhat manage when it came time to use my brain for anything, but when dealing with Myths who could channel elemental magic, I was useless with a capital U.
So far, I had been lucky to find people who could be reasoned with, despite the tremendous power they held. Lamy had been a very close one. I'm positive I saw myself dying at least three times if it wasn't for Kiara and Botan protecting my ass.
But lady luck wasn't very fond of me, and the grace she had shown me with my new lifestyle wouldn't last very long if I took it for granted.
However, no regular training or muscle enhancer would help me much if my opponent could burn me to a crisp, or send a sharp piece of ice through my skull. No kind of normal, human muscles could beat that.
Which is why I had asked Botan to teach me self-defense.
Botan was a Myth, one with higher stats than a normal human. Yet, her weapon of choice was a sniper rifle, something that a human could wield with practice.
I'd possibly never be an incredible shooter like her, but if I could get the basics of shooting a weapon from an expert, I could take care of minor threats or assist others with stronger opponents. I could be useful as a caretaker physically.
It had taken a bit, but Botan had managed to find some free time to train me. She brought me to a firing range owned by Cover Corp. (How many things did these bastards own?!)
The place was empty, completely devoid of life other than the two of us…which was perfect for me. Nobody could see me spectacularly fail at my training except Botan.
In 2 hours, I was taught the basics of handling a firearm, safety protocols, the anatomy of a gun, and last but not least, how to shoot it. It was a lot of information to digest, but I expected this much when handling a deadly weapon.
Every step and lesson had been drilled into my head. I had listened intently and took this seriously. Remembering knowledge wasn't the difficult part.
It was applying it.
Turns out, trying to recalibrate your aim while the gun and your arms keep being blown upward thanks to the recoil was challenging. My hands were pulsing with constant pain just trying to keep the damn weapon in my hand. Every shot sent tremors up my arms, as if I was trying to contain a small explosion in my hands.
When I took my time and remembered each step properly, I could shoot the first bullet clean through the center.
The issue came with bullets 2 and 3. Botan said that I had to shoot three times in a row to better access my skills and progression. I could see how she could tell what my skills were with three shots.
Most of the time, the other two shots ended up nowhere near close to the center, sometimes even missing entirely. Since I had to fire in quick succession, certain steps were skipped in my head as I scrambled to recenter my firearm. Of course, skipping just one step would lead to poor accuracy. Mixed with my hands trying to control the recoil, it was no wonder none of my shots would land after the first.
To think that Botan was using a sniper rifle, something that blasted way more power…
A box of ammo entered my vision, bringing me back to the real world.
"Ammo for your thoughts?" Botan asked as she shook the ammo box in her hand, a cheshire grin spreading on her face. One corner of my mouth drifted upward, grabbing the box.
"Just wondering how you're capable of shooting a sniper rifle while moving like you did back in Alaska." I replied, grabbing some ammunition to fill up the empty magazines. "You'd think with the recoil, you'd get sent flying on your ass or something."
"Ha! That would be a sight." She chuckled, picking up a bullet and twirling it between her fingers. "When I started shooting guns, the recoil was a bit annoying. Thankfully, I got the hang of it quickly."
"Any tips? Or is it something to do with you being a lioness?" I questioned while tilting my head to the side. Most Myths had better reflex, better speed, better strength. It wasn't a bad assumption to think that a lioness like Botan had greater strength or muscle that would help her deal with that.
"Maybe, I never thought about it. Back then, I was more focused on learning this new, foreign hobby as much as I could." She answered, her eyes gazing past me as she stopped playing with the bullet in her hand.
"Foreign?"
At that moment, I couldn't help but remember a detail that nagged me back in Alaska.
"It's probably gonna be insensitive, but you're from another world like Lamy, right?" My mouth fired quicker than my brain could restrain. It felt like I was crossing a line just by asking that question. Her eyes regained focus as she looked at me with some surprise, her eyebrows shooting upward. I laid down the magazine and ammo down on the table and continued.
"When we were talking about Lamy back in the mansion, you mentioned your branch and how it dealt with similar cases as her."
Hearing this, Botan's expression relaxed, the tension dissipating. A smile broke through as she shook her head. "Of course you'd catch that."
I had the decency to look away, scratching the back of my head. A small dose of shame managed to worm its way in my heart. Maybe I should've shut my mouth and let my curiosity starve…
"Well, that's the correct guess. I come from another world, one where demi-humans like me walk alongside humans." She spoke up, grabbing my attention. I stored the shame away and listened with interest – I had chosen curiosity over decency after all. "My world was filled with different races of people and beautiful landscapes. I guess your world calls it a Fantasy land."
Botan had a forlorn look as she reminisced about her world. Her eyes glazed over, some of the light in them hiding underneath mist; gazing at memories that I couldn't see. It was the first time I saw such an expression on Botan – someone who had an easy personality to converse with.
It didn't belong.
"I used to be part of a guild of adventurers who would constantly travel in search of adventures." Her voice was coated with nostalgia, brimming with warmth. "We were rowdy…and frankly, a bit stupid at times, but we had each other's back, and that's what mattered to me.
"One day, we went exploring some ancient ruins with the promise of treasures. We were all excited, and that excitement rubbed off on me, I guess, because it made me reckless enough to jump inside a trapped room." All warmth had vanished from her voice, replaced with regret. The muscles in her face had become taut, her lips forming a thin line.
Emotions swirled inside silver eyes, fighting for control. Anger, regret, loathing…pity. As if she was telling someone else's tale.
"I heard the screams of my friends, a flash of lights and then…I was here." She closed her eyes, choosing to let the silence take over.
Hearing about Lamy being ripped from her entire world and everything that she knew in a single moment was devastating. Back then, I couldn't fathom the hardship, and still couldn't.
Hearing Botan's own spin on such fate, it confirmed such feelings to me. No imagination could possibly grasp what it felt like. It was disgusting, wretched. To add insult to injury, our world fantasized about outcomes like it, writing and pretending to understand about it.
It was wrong on all kinds of levels.
I opened my mouth, ignoring the dryness I felt in my throat. "I-"
"Then Cover Corp found me!" She suddenly exclaimed with wide eyes, throwing her arms wide open. "They were insanely quick considering a demi-human was suddenly walking on earth with no intention to hide."
The gloomy aura that had permeated the room had been blown away by how…delighted the lioness was telling her story. Any negative emotions had disappeared like it had never been there. The regular, typical and easy-going Botan was essentially back.
"I met Polka and Nene, adapted to this life pretty well, and of course, found my true love for guns! Your world might be more intolerant, but you guys are creating things of beauty with these!" She exclaimed her statements in quick succession, not leaving a shred of space in between each.
"So don't worry about not being super good at shooting, you're starting out and if I was able to get as good as I am, someone from this world should be able to do way better, don't you think?" She said, finishing it off by snapping her fingers toward me.
I pondered on her words.
I understood well what she was trying to say. I didn't even need to read between the lines to get it.
Looking back at the target practice, my mood plummeted, souring whatever advice I had been graced with. Whether I was from this world or not had no importance, we were different people.
"I don't know about that. I've been shooting this thing for an hour now, and I still see no progress at all." I complained with gritted teeth about my situation.
"I told you, you're starting out." Botan repeated, a bit more directly this time. I could feel my hands balling into fists, nails digging in my palms.
I shook my head, staring directly at her. "I can understand starting out, but seeing no progress after multiple attempts? There's no excusing it, I'm doing something bad here."
It was a twinge of frustration. It was normal after failing so many times at the same task over and over. I was starting out, and I already had hit a damn wall; I kept ramming my head on it, hoping that each blow would be the one to crumble it down. All it did was hurt, and I despised it.
Perhaps someone like me wasn't meant for this kind of thing? After all, my goal was to be normal, and well, knowing how to shoot a gun wasn't the perfect idea of normalcy.
A voice inside my head mocked me for the simple-minded rationalization.
I wanted to scoff or sneer at it in rebuttal. A waste of energy it'd be.
Botan's eyebrows took a sharp turn downward as she stared back at me, her eyes darkening with disappointment. My current attitude shrunk under her gaze, my eyes darting somewhere safe. I heard her breathe in, crossing her arms as she walked in my peripheral once more.
I mentally prepared myself for a sympathetic moral lesson on why I shouldn't give up-
"Were you the type of kid who tried something and gave up as soon as it got hard?"
That was enough to knock the sail out of my thought process.
My head swiveled toward Botan at a frightening speed, so much so I thought I'd shatter my neck.
"I…I-"
My eyes were wide open, my jaw copying them. The frustration morphed into an uncomfortable heat threatening to tear my chest open and consume me from the outside.
"That's not…"
I wanted to say it wasn't true, wanted to say she was wrong, to say she didn't know me. I wanted to say anything at all, but my mind resembled a broken compass – spinning endlessly in search, unable to navigate.
Botan's eyes softened as soon as she saw my reaction, an uneasy smile morphing on her face.
"I hit a nerve, didn't I? Sorry about that." She apologized before I could refute or say anything about her claim. I closed my mouth, clenching my jaw shut as I ripped my gaze away from her. "I don't wanna make you angry, or insult you, but you are being too strict with yourself here.
"You won't be a good shot in a day, that's impossible. Yes, there is a lack of progress, and it is good that you noticed it. But whining about it won't do anything but stop you from finding a solution, don't you think?"
I felt a tap on my shoulder, turning toward it to see her hand on it. My eyes followed her arm, settling on her face. She flashed a grin.
"What's it gonna be, Hunter? Gonna keep crying about it, or are you willing to change?"
I stood still.
Forget moral sympathy, this was a direct attack! Using words like a dagger, she had stabbed right through a weak spot. I wanted to yell about her approach, be petty and throw a tantrum. I felt…embarrassed, insulted, betrayed and…then peace washed over me.
Like shackles being removed after years of imprisonment, it felt…liberating. It packed a punch for sure to be told your seven ugly truths – technically one – but it also was…revealing.
I was whining, wasn't I?
As much as my ego kept barking at me that she was wrong, the facts weren't lying. I wasn't very good at anything other than the bare essentials in life. I didn't have a unique talent or anything that made me stand out, even if the lack of standing out part was on purpose.
Botan was right. She had twisted the knife, and thanks to that action, had managed to drain the poison that had spread in my line of thinking.
I was impatient; I cared about the results, and when they didn't meet my standard, I threw a tantrum and gave up. I would even find excuses to protect myself from disappointment.
It can't be helped, I'm no good at this.
I guess I just didn't like it as much as I thought I did.
I just don't have the talent for it.
All these excuses for the sake of protecting myself, and yet every time, I'd come out of the learning process more broken and fragile than ever. It was the opposite of protection.
I looked up at the firearm sitting on the desk in front of me.
Back then, I had been a kid with no self-awareness whatsoever. Maybe it was another excuse for my behavior in the past, but even if it was, it couldn't hold up for right now.
In some way, discovering the existence of Myths had brought me to a new world. Never to the extent that Botan and Lamy suffered – that would've surpassed arrogance – but it did feel similar in its own unique, twisted way.
I still wanted to live a normal life, that goal hadn't changed.
But you couldn't live a normal life if you were hurt or dead. It's why I learned how to cook, despite burning the food constantly at the start. It's why I learned how to do my own laundry, why I learned how to pay my bills without getting blindsided, and why I had been efficient at my old job.
For the sake of survival – to live a normal life.
If I was serious about learning how to be a proper caretaker and fulfill my wish, I needed to change and step up to the task. Self-awareness becomes redundant without any action backing it up.
What I should've done is look at the process and the issue instead of complaining about it. What I should've done is accept that it's still my first day and stop being arrogant, thinking I could succeed in a day what took years for others.
What I should do is swallow whatever I was feeling, tell my bruised pride to be quiet and steel my resolve.
"I'm sorry, you're right." I firmly stated, looking straight in Botan's eyes with no doubt to prove my resolve. "I'll stop being a child. I'm going to keep practicing and find a solution instead."
Botan looked back at me, her eyes narrowed. After a few seconds, she nodded, a smile growing on her face.
"That's better." She said. She picked the gun up from the barrel, then pointed it toward me – the handle facing me. I accepted it, taking hold of it. "Now, I'm expecting you to do everything that I order you to do, even if it's robbing a bank!"
"Don't push it." I scoffed jokingly, moving toward the desk to grab the magazine and clip.
Inserting the magazine inside the pistol, I cocked it and unlocked the safety.
I took a deep breath, and steadied my aim as I raised the gun in front of me.
Taking careful aim, I fired the first shot.
"A little color in the place wouldn't harm anyone, guys…"
The endless white corridors of the underground section of Cover Corp seemed to stretch infinitely before my eyes. The few corners and turns exacerbated that fact; and the doors were all locked. The floor looked like clean white marble, but each step I took made it clank with a metallic quality instead.
It was the kind of place where you wouldn't be able to tell whether the sun or moon was up in the sky; completely shut off from the outside world. The only source of light came from the ceiling way above me…I think.
Staring at the ceiling didn't seem to hurt my eyes or weaken them, and the damn surface looked a radiant white just like every damn surface of this corridor. As far as I knew, it was magically lit up by something, somewhere…
Damn Cover Corp…
I had told Gura that I would get some cases from the office itself, hence my presence in this sci-fi knockoff location. Our current research on Atlantis wasn't yielding much results, so I figured we could focus on recent cases of Myth appearances.
Specifically, Myths related to the ocean or a body of water.
If we were lucky, we could find a relative of Atlantis, or something close to it. Any clues to tell us whether or not any citizen of Atlantis swam up to the surface.
According to Gura, all she did was swim upward until she reached a beach.
If reaching the surface was so simple, then how come Gura was the only Atlantian here?
Questions and answers for later. For now, I'd do what I said I would do: get new, fresh cases for us to work on.
Finding the office for Cover Corp wasn't the hard part, they're a public organization after all. Finding their secret hidden underground lab wasn't even the toughest part, but it was creepy considering I had to let the camera scan my eyes just to get in. How they got my DNA or retina scan, I'll never know – I didn't wanna find out either.
Finding my way inside this confusing labyrinth that served as a lab? That is where most of the difficulty lies.
Even with a map and compass, I'd get turned around like a child. I wasn't sure I could even escape this hellish place at this point.
All of that trouble would have easily been avoided if I had called for an appointment or texted Enma…but I didn't like either option.
I was petty, that I recognized, but I had a bone to pick with Cover Corp from the start. Every move they pulled reeked of foul play; playing with the lives of Myths and humans for the sake of control.
Sure, they called it "protecting the populace", but the way they went about it bordered on authoritarianism.
Back then, I would've accepted something like this.
After meeting Gura and Kiara though, I couldn't help but feel rebellious against that kind of system. Something to do with feeling empathetic with what both went through to reach their own brand of happiness was probably stirring up an unknown feeling in me.
They did help Lamy and Botan, but only because it was convenient to them. If both had refused, the plan and results would've been the same in their eyes.
It all felt wrong.
As for Enma, in another story, I would've called her a victim of circumstances.
In this story, I was content with calling her my warden.
Some parts of me kept trying to rationalize her behaviors; that she was only doing her job and truly believed that she was doing some good in the world. She did appoint me as caretaker, so she did help me as well. Plus, she felt bad about hurting me in our one and only fight, so she couldn't be all bad!
That part of me lacked a few brain cells.
The things she did could be shined under a pink-tinted light to show off all of her good sides, but the casted shadows were still telling the real story. Enma's loyalty lied with her role as a manager for the Cover Corp.
That was the only thing I needed to know from her to explain and predict her actions.
"Damnit, can I get some guidance here already?!" I roared after turning my billionth corner only to be met with another white corridor. Somehow, I had managed to set myself off in my own thoughts.
My voice hadn't even echoed – it had been muffled and silenced rather quickly. I let out a sigh as I raised my hands to the heavens.
The mansion, and now this place. What was up with labyrinths and me?!
A clicking noise resounded to my right.
My eyes snapped to the source of the noise, noticing a door right next to me. It was barely visible due to its color – white, of course. This one was different, however.
The red light that signaled it was locked was now green.
I scowled at the door.
Approaching it, I extended a hand to push it open. It slid open instead, disappearing into the wall as I let my hand fall to my side.
"Next time, it would be appropriate for you to schedule an appointment if you'd like to have a meeting. Come in." A familiar, frigid and uncaring voice called from inside the room. I held back on the urge to sneer, choosing to glare at the voice's owner.
Walking inside, the room looked like it had been made from the exact same material of the corridors. White, marble, boring. Even the furniture blended.
The one thing that stood in stark contrast was Enma herself, sitting on a white office chair. Her dark hair with red undertones specifically clashed with everything.
Sadly, it pained me to say that she was a sight for sore eyes.
"Surprised you haven't gone crazy with the asylum themed decoration." I snarked as I grabbed one of the chairs, flipping it over to sit with the backrest facing me. "I think it lacks in white, you guys should fix that."
"Speaking with arrogance due to a lack of knowledge. Glad to know you have your core foundation intact, Hunter Bell." She replied with a small smile, adjusting her glasses with the palm of her hand.
This time, I didn't hold back on my sneer.
I slung my arms over the back of the chair. "Unpleasant as always." I muttered under my breath. "Anyway, what was up with that looping corridor bullshit?"
"You showed up uninvited. What did you expect?" She raised an eyebrow, as if I was in the wrong and she couldn't fathom my reaction.
"I said that I was here on business at the desk, and they let me through just fine, You even had that creepy scanner allowing me in! And didn't I call you this morning to get some books and files?!"
"That still doesn't tell us why you were in the building." She replied, knocking away my argument. I could feel myself growing more exasperated by the second, trying to dig my fingers in the chair out of pure irritation. "Am I wrong?"
"I'm a caretaker, you can guess why I'm here."
"I cannot. I'm not a Myth, and I don't have mind reading abilities."
So much for my pettiness. I should've asked for a damn appointment.
"Fine, you win." I waved a hand as I groaned, trying to desperately change the subject.
Before I could continue with the reason I was here, Enma decided to take the lead on the conversation. "How are the Atlantian and Phoenix doing? I hope you have been fulfilling your obligations as a caretaker, yes?"
"Gura and Kiara are doing good." I made sure to enunciate their name as clearly as I could, my brows furrowing at the choice of words from Enma. "I cook for them regularly, give them full access to whatever funds I have, and in return, they don't get into unnecessary trouble."
"You do have a…hands-off approach with your Myths compared to most caretakers. Quite unique." She added with a few careful choices of words. I felt my nose go up and my eyes thinning in aggravation.
This was another thing I despised from our conversations.
Most social interaction from my experiences required both parties to be on the same wavelength. If the topic deviated too much or one of the parties didn't grasp what was being discussed, things would stop and everyone would attempt to unravel what had been said.
It's why most discussions usually had someone who talked, and someone who listened. It made it easier on everyone, and the listener only had to add a few adlibs here and there to make it clear that they were indeed listening to make this whole process work.
I mostly preferred the listener position. Of course, I indulged in the speaker position sometimes, but it was by choice and when I was with people I considered interesting.
With Enma, it was her game.
She would usually take the lead in conversations and speak her mind, weaving her own conversation between the lines of what was currently being said. To understand what she was saying, you had to play her silly game and peel layers and layers of manipulation.
It would force me in the speaker seat, willing or not. I would be stuck trying to solve cryptic messages on the fly; having to hide real intentions and thoughts behind sentences that felt too stiff for my liking.
And if I failed at the task…
Enma's eyes slightly narrowed, letting a small sigh of disappointment through her nose as she brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
I felt the irritation spiking as my molars grinded against one another painfully.
I wanted to headbutt this insufferable woman so bad!
"Look, I just came here to get some cases, do you have any?" There was only one way to avoid this losing mental game of chess, and it was by talking about something we both had in common: Our job.
It was the only time Enma was willing to be direct and straightforward.
"We have plenty." She answered, opening a draw brimming with documents. I raised a hand forward to signal a quick pause.
"Get me the ones related to the ocean or water." I asked. This earned me a simple nod as she picked the first three cases on the pile.
I clicked my tongue. She knew from the beginning why I was here.
Of course.
"I must say, it is rare to see you ask for a case." She observed, putting the three files on top of her desk near me. I shrugged.
"Helping the Shrimp with research about Atlantis." I quickly explained. "I'd tell you the rest, but I'm sure you don't like hearing the same story twice."
Enma huffed at that, her eyebrows furrowing at this. A smirk grew on my face.
Just like I had figured out, she was listening to us without our knowledge. I didn't know how she did it – possibly magic since I hadn't found any strange device in my apartment – but it didn't matter.
All that mattered, was that I knew now.
"I would've liked to help you, but I have pretty much given you everything that we know about Atlantis." She said, her tone unchanging despite the clear apology in her sentence.
Not like I could believe her, anyway. For all I knew, Cover Corp could've been responsible for the disappearance of any Atlantians. Perhaps Gura was the exception for some unknown reasons…
"I've also heard that you've been attending firearms training with Shishiro Botan." She casually dropped, not waiting for a reply about the previous topic. Classic Enma, moving the conversation without anyone's approval. "I approve."
My eyes widened with surprise.
"You…do?"
"Yes. It would be good for you to gain some semblance of skills for self-defense to avoid slowing down others on a mission. It would also be beneficial in case a threat would make itself known to your assigned Myths." She crossed her arms as she surgically explained her reasoning. Her eyes didn't budge once, constantly targeting me. "It is an initiative that I approve of, as long as you do not forget your position as a caretaker."
"Don't know how I should feel about you agreeing with me on something." I mumbled quietly, grimacing at the prospect. "Besides, as far as I'm concerned, the word caretaker just means slave for whatever job you have for me."
"That is because it needed to evolve. Caretakers used to only do what their name entailed: taking care of Myths. We had a separate unit for search and capture, as well.
"However, handing off Myths to people they didn't know didn't create satisfactory rapport. Instead, the Myth would usually be uncooperative, run off, or worse, kill their caretaker."
I ignored the shiver that crawled up my spine, doing my best to purge those last words from my memories.
"Instead, you guys decided to combine both roles into the caretaker?" I accelerated the conversation forward.
Enma nodded. "Yes. It proved beneficial on all sides."
Her logic appealed to mine, disgustingly so.
Most Myths were already in problematic situations, usually low on trust. Some hid, others were lost, and from what I had heard, a lot of them were aggressive.
Having a team of strangers capturing you by force, and then handing you off to another complete stranger in a place that advertised itself as a glorified prison, it was no wonder most of them had a bad reaction.
The last thing you want when the world keeps kicking you in the shin is for some big corporation to tell you that they know what's best for you.
With the current caretaker system, there was still one stranger, but that stranger could build a level of trust with that Myth before hitting them with a cold dose of truth.
That trust was almost paltry, but it was better than nothing – especially when talking about handing your life away to some organization.
Gura, Kiara, even Lamy. I built a connection with most of them before they pondered joining Cover Corp, and tried to help them out before giving them the option. Perhaps it was manipulative, but it felt like the lesser of evil.
Even though it was still evil.
"We're all gonna go to hell, one day." I sighed out as I got up from my seat. I grabbed all three folders from the edge of the desk, putting them under my arm. "Either way, thanks for the assist. I'd say that I would write you a report if anything comes up, but I bet you'll know through some shady means anyway."
"I see that maturity won't be part of your metamorphosis anytime soon." She sighed, pushing back the glasses away from her nose. I rolled my eyes at this.
"I'm not going through some big evolution. I just want to live a normal life." I stated, turning my back and walking toward the door.
"That sounds like trying to avoid the inevitable to me." She fired back instantly. I was about to turn back and make my next move in her usual game…but something stopped me.
The inevitable, huh...
Enma wasn't a character I could avoid, she was going to be a part of my life as long as I had ties to Cover Corp.
If I wanted to be a better caretaker and achieve normalcy, I couldn't keep up this…weird game of manipulation/antagonization.
Trying to go at her pace clearly wasn't getting through to her…and I did say I'd try to change a little bit to achieve my goals.
So I'd try a little bit of honesty.
…Maybe I was going through some kind of change.
"I understand that our job is a necessary evil." I began as I stared directly at her. Her brows slightly jumped up in surprise. "I get that what we do is important, I get that how we do things is already making too many concessions. I'm not a child, I get all that.
"But…no matter how we do this, it'll always feel wrong to me." I took a breath of air, keeping my sight on her. "I can't help feeling that what I do is wrong, even if the logic behind my actions is solid. Maybe one day, I won't be as naive as I am now…but I hope to never lose that feeling, ever."
It was awkward. It was rambling nonsense. It came out of nowhere and didn't fit anywhere.
It didn't matter; it was my honest thoughts about this whole situation.
We both stared at each other, the muffled silence of the room engulfing everything else. I prepared to turn around and leave, before I saw her close her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"That feeling you speak of." She spoke up, opening her eyes. "That's what sets you caretakers apart from villains like me."
My jaw loosened, slightly, before I let out a chuckle while looking down on the ground.
Once again, she was one step ahead of me, even when I played outside of the perimeters. Classic Enma.
I brushed some hair back, letting my hand go through the motion to rest on my nape. "I really can't stand you."
A small smile emerged on her face.
"Take care of yourself, caretaker."
I turned around and walked toward the door, raising a hand to wave goodbye.
"You too, manager."
Despite everything, Enma was everything but normal.
"Is she still picking which case we're working on?"
"Yup." I answered Kiara as she walked out of the bathroom, purposely popping the last letter.
As soon as I had reached home, I had given the files to Gura for her to make the big decisions. When I did, it was still fresh in the afternoon.
It was now evening. She still hadn't made a decision.
Apparently, the Shrimp had a mean indecisive streak in her, strong enough to stop her from choosing one case from three files.
I had time to make dinner, take a shower, and scroll for what felt like hours on my phone. Kiara had time to go outside, come back, and take a shower.
She still wasn't ready to pick.
"This isn't as easy as you guys make it sound!" Gura loudly whined, slamming her hands and tail on the table. "What if I pick The bad case and we get stuck being bored for a week!?"
"If you don't choose, we'll be bored for a week." I whispered to myself, massaging the bridge of my nose with one hand.
I understood the dilemma, I really did.
Thing was, impatience could make anyone care less about risks and consequences. All I wanted was to get out of this waiting time right now, boring cases be damned!
"What about this one?" I pointed toward a random folder, pretending to know the content of it. Gura took a look at it; her brows knitted as the color of her face took on a reddish hue. If we were in a cartoon, I'm pretty sure I would've seen some smoke coming out of her ears. "Y-you don't have to think about it so hard-"
"Shut it!"
I needed a distraction. I needed something to avoid my brain frying inside my cranium out of sheer boredom!
Now!
"By the way, Kiara, what have you been doing outside all this time?" I immediately latched on to the nearest source of possible entertainment, which fell on Kiara – who was currently checking her phone.
She looked up, her eyes wide and her mouth in a round shape. "Me? Why do you wanna know?"
"Hello Takanashi Kiara, my name is Hunter Bell, I am your current caretaker from Cover Corp. Pleased to meet you." I joked with my customer service voice, bowing like a businessman would.
"I know that." She palmed her face, an audible slapping sound echoing in the apartment. "I mean, why would you like to know now? Me going outside hasn't been an issue so far."
"True, it hasn't. And still isn't." I immediately added as I raised both hands to stop the immediate panic in Kiara's face. When I saw her exhale in relief, I continued. "I personally trust you both enough to go outside and not cause trouble. However, I still need to be aware of what you two do."
"Is it for those reports you write weekly?" Kiara tilted her head with a raised eyebrow.
Gura lifted her head from the documents in her hands. "The one where he always has that dumb look where he's about to physically die from the task?"
"Seriously?" Kiara deadpanned at me, her lids lowered half-way. I returned the look.
"They sometimes haunt me in my dreams."
Being a caretaker wasn't just taking care of Myths and going on missions from time to time. It also involved filling out weekly and monthly reports. After all, how was Cover Corp supposed to know that the caretaker was indeed doing their job and not just telling the Myths to go nuts.
Surprisingly, the monthly report wasn't so bad. It involved mostly signing contracts and clauses here and there, with the quick write up about what's been generally going on with each Myths.
It was the weekly reports that were a nightmare.
Every single week, I had to write a minimum of two thousand words on each Myths' activities, behavior, and personality shift. No matter how small it was, I had to note it down. Whatever could be useful, I had to note it down.
Then, to finish it all in a brutal way, I needed to fill out a form that entailed each purchase or income spent on Myth related business. It was akin to filling out my tax income at the end of the year…except weekly.
When someone like Kiara was active all day, it was easy to fill out the two thousand word limit – sometimes even going above it!
It was when one of them would do nothing but play games or watch movies in the comfort of the apartment.
During those times, it felt like I was back in highschool again, trying to stretch out sentences in an essay to reach the word limit; except worse because this time, I wasn't allowed to pretty it up with big pretentious words.
Somehow, in my life filled with Myths who were capable of murdering me in the blink of an eye, my most dangerous enemy was the material I had loved all my life.
Paper…how could you…
"Hey, are you okay? You look like you're gonna start crying all of a sudden." Kiara called out to me, frowning as she looked at me.
"It's fine, just some dust in my eyes" I lied, smoothly. "Anyway, going back on the topic?"
"Looking for a hobby to pick up." She shrugged her shoulders, motioning to one of the bags she had come back with. "Been buying all sorts of things to try out that I never bothered with before."
Curiosity got the better of me; standing up from my seat, I headed over to the bag she had motioned. Quickly glancing at Kiara for permission, I rummaged through the bag for its content as soon as she gave me the go.
I pulled out a pack of needles and some yarn – high quality one just from the feel of it.
"Knitting? Really?"
"Sewing too! There's some good threads in there." She pointed to the bag again, making me look inside it again to see that, indeed, there were some threads.
"I don't get it though. You gave KFP away for the whole Cover Corp thing, and now you're looking for a new hobby?" I questioned as I put down both the needles and yarn back in the bag.
"KFP was starting to get boring to me, and the Cover Corp thing was interesting." She responded, checking things off with one hand. "It still is interesting, but it's definitely more of a long term investment. Sooo, I still need something to do during down time."
"Here I thought you wanted to be pampered like a princess." I smirked as I went back to my seat, hearing her snort at my joke.
"Been there, done that. I'm not in the mood for a repeat." She laughed it off, waving a hand in front of her. "Besides, my, uhh, castle? Is not the most qualified for royalty like me." She spoke in a haughty fashion, looking around the apartment to prove her point.
I put a hand on my chest and dramatically gasped. "Thy words hurt this brave knight. Thou have caused great distress in our orders."
"Thou deserve it, stupid." She playfully mouthed off, earning a loose chuckle from me.
It made sense for Kiara to look for something to do. After all, being a caretaker for me was a job that mostly needed all my attention, but for them, there wasn't much to do.
This essentially gave Kiara free reign to do whatever her heart desired. Living as long as she did, she was probably going through all the little things she hadn't considered before because they didn't look like useful skills or entertaining time killers…like knitting…and sewing.
It did make me wonder what was in all the other bags she had brought.
"What about you?"
"What about me?" I instinctively shot back, trying to search for what had been asked of me.
The Phoenix rolled her eyes at me. "What hobby are you looking for? I figured with you being unable to read your books right now, you must be looking for something else, right?"
Was I looking for another hobby?
"I'm looking for another hobby?" I questioned with uncertainty leaking.
"You aren't?"
"I guess not?"
"Why not? Don't tell me you were planning to just be a caretaker your entire life!" Kiara sounded baffled with the possibilities, her expression screaming out the word incredulous. I let my eyes wander away from her.
It's not like I was doing nothing out of my life.
Reading wasn't currently working at the moment. I was taking firearm lessons from Botan to be a better caretaker. Movies and games weren't really my cup of tea. Music was a passive activity.
That was now, because if I glanced at the past for advice, most of my favorite activities were avoiding others and pretending to be a normal human being. I didn't like hanging out with big groups of people, and most activities required too much energy or skill for me to enjoy.
I did like hanging out at the bar sometimes. Get one scotch, talk to no one, and then leave with my sanity intact.
Those were the good nights.
"Hunter, that's just…" Kiara trailed off, her eyes softening as she stared at me. She didn't really understand what I liked, so she probably thought I was living the life of a sheltered kid – I was 27, but for a Phoenix, I was probably still a baby.
I opened my mouth to explain-
"This one! I pick this one and it's final!" Gura shouted from the top of her lungs as she slammed a finger on one of the files, causing my heart to almost stop entirely.
"A-about damn time…" I grumbled, putting a hand on my chest. It was still beating, I was still alive.
"Which one did you pick?" Kiara hopped off her seat, making her way toward Gura. Gura grabbed the file she had chosen with both hands, extending both arms to proudly display it to the Phoenix.
"This one! I concluded that it was the best, most action-packed, funnest one to pick!" She declared with a smug grin, puffing her chest forward as she handed off the files to Kiara.
"Oh yeah? Tell me more." I almost demanded, narrowing my eyes at the Shrimp across the table. In response, she sewed her eyebrows together while keeping her grin up.
"That case is in the suburb area of Queens! Queens is a cool name for a place!" She stated with absolute conviction.
I could sense a vein threatening to burst from my skin near my temple.
"I need a good reason for you to spend half a day picking this specific case, Shrimp." I did my best to calmly speak, my words coming out as a growl instead.
Gura blinked a few times, smugness morphing into sheepish.
"She…She apparently has tentacles! Like an octopus!"
"I'm going to slap you." I darkly muttered. I was very close to listening to one of the few intrusive thoughts currently roaming through my head.
Half a day…
"Just let it go. At least she picked one before the day ended." Kiara lightly giggled as she handed me the file. Small mercies…
I grabbed the file and checked out the first page, noticing the picture of a meek girl with purple hair. The photo had been taken in the middle of the day, probably without her consent or awareness if judged by the distance and somewhat low quality.
Leave it to Cover Corp to stalk and creep upon young girls for the sake of the populace!
Her name, displayed at the top of the photo, was Ina'Nis Ninomae.
This was the official start of our new case…
…and the beginning of the end of my current self.