Chapter 20: A Certain Otherworld Huntsman - City_of_Academia
In a flash of light, Jaune crossed through the portal to a new world, followed close by Tattletale.
Almost immediately, he ran smack-dab into the door of a public bathroom stall, his sword impaling the panel by accident. Given no warning, Tattletale slammed against him and bounced off; the back of her knees hit the toilet, and with an "Oof!" the girl fell to sit atop it. This tripped a sensor of some kind, and a set of speakers began to play a soothing melody.
The scene stopped, a tableau frozen in its track, driven by the fear that further movements could result in a cascading series of disasters to end their lives.
"That…could have gone better," said Jaune once the commotion died down, rubbing his nose. He turned to check on his companion. "Are you—" He paused, blinking. "Wow. Okay. That's the fanciest toilet I've ever seen. Are those armrests? Is that a cupholder?"
"I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for caring."
Despite her snark, Tattletale too failed to stifle an expression of awe as she twisted on the seat—nay, the throne—to check out the fixture. The embedded entertainment screen already seemed over the top for a public restroom. The outlet ports and a fan to circulate cool air, even more so. A row of buttons on an armrest tantalized the impulsive Tattletale with its mysterious features; the girl tried one, and yelped in surprise as the seat heated up. Another tentative press activated a back massaging function.
A few minutes of further poking and prodding, and the pair arrived at the same conclusion.
"Jaune, make a note. We're tearing this thing out and taking it with us."
"Definitely." He nodded, already plotting the required steps. "The apartment could use an upgrade. I'll figure out the plumbing and electrical work somehow."
"Also, we're in Japan."
"Ja-Pan. That means nothing to me."
Tattletale was happy to explain, adopting a lecturing tone. "It's a country, analogous to one of your Kingdoms in the same way that my United States is. See the characters here?" She pointed to a series of markings on the video screen. "Due to a certain watery monster you may remember and a firebreathing dragon, Brockton Bay is home to a sizable Japanese population. This matches their writing system to a tee. I've heard it said that people value cleanliness there, and they were famous back in the day for insanely high-spec toilets. We're either in Japan, or a universe that shares a lot of similarities. I'll know for sure once we see more of it."
So confidently did she declare that, yet a concrete answer eluded her grasp even after exiting the stall as all it revealed was a typical restroom, albeit sparkling clean to an unnatural degree. The sinks, mirrors, and air-dryers held no special functions of note. It rather dashed Jaune's hopes that they were visiting a futuristic universe in addition to a supernatural one—an assumption based on the Instance description of a 'magical index'. Still, a world close to the modern-day eras they came from would allow them to stock up on goods and amenities unavailable in Dunwall. Silver linings.
Whirrr…Whirrr…Whirrr…
Jaune revised his expectations upward as a waist-high cylinder rolled into the room. He tracked its movements with a wary, then later incredulous, eye as it proceeded to sweep the floor with a mop built into the bottom of its body, needing no person to control the paths where it roamed.
"A cleaning robot? Amazing! We might be in the far future after all."
Tattletale gave him an odd look. "...You seriously have never seen a roomba before?"
"You recognize it! Is this—"
"No, it's not tinkertech. We have them on Earth Bet, or something near enough. This one seems to be designed for public areas, which is new, but that's only like five years in the future max." The robot drew near and she stuck a foot out to give it a nudge, whiffing air as the contraption dodged out of the way with ease. "Okay, maybe ten, tops."
"That's wild. On Remnant, the idea of robots serving us in our daily lives is straight out of scifi. The best we've managed so far are robot soldiers."
"Excuse me, you have what?"
It became his turn to stare. "I'm getting mixed signals here. You mean, your universe created robots, and the first thing they're used for wasn't to serve as an army?"
Her head nodded up and down in a jerky motion, a response that blew him away. What a strange place, this Earth.
"What a crazy world, this Remnant."
Hey!
Tattletale's subsequent, and hilarious, claims that Earth was normal got a laugh from him, because it flew in the face of their experiences thus far (i.e. Endbringers and death games). His protests that Remnant made perfect, logical sense received a scoff in turn, which he thought was quite unreasonable of a stance for her. However, on one matter they reached an agreement, and it involved hiding access to the portal from the locals. They have yet to test whether a person can enter it by accident, and neither of them wanted to take that gamble. A raid of the supply closet nestled in the corner, and an 'Out of Order' sign now hung on the door, while yellow caution tape crisscrossed the stall top, bottom, and sides. With a job well done, the pair left the restroom behind.
A long, deserted hallway greeted the pair. It's possible they were underground, as artificial light provided the sole source of illumination. That said, careful placement ensured the hall was bright as day.
Jaune happened to look above, seeing a restroom sign—blue, with two spindly legs. A few yards over was a similar sign in pink. One end of the hall sported a door with a red sign, and though he cannot understand the words, the picture of a cartoonish hand gesturing to halt sufficiently explained the message: do not enter unless they have business there. He and Tattletale debated going inside anyway, and would have had it not been for the alarm system visible next to the door.
The other direction terminated in a turn. That became their new destination.
Whirrr…Whirrr…Whirrr…
The faint mechanical sound accompanied Jaune as he strolled along the passage. Beside him sat Tattletale, who kept pace with both feet off the ground; beneath her, the cleaning robot continued rolling on without a word of protest.
"Wheee!"
Tattletale leaned back in the air and kicked her legs, appearing for all the world like she was having a blast. Appearing, since a good half the fun came from her observing his reaction. The concept of riding on the 'roomba' had been his to start with, a spur of the moment impulse that had fast transformed into disappointment as the thing refused to move an inch under his weight, motor whining during the struggle. It worked fine for her, though, and she was currently taking great delight in rubbing his face in that fact, beaming with pure smugness whenever she catches his envious glance. (Because, really, who hasn't dreamt of riding a robot?)
It soon became too much and, miffed, he mustered the deep and authoritative 'team leader voice' heeded by all of JNPR to reprimand her. "We can't afford to mess around, Tattletale. Danger could lie just past the corner. Be serious."
"Oh my, you sound sooo mature~" Tattletale fanned herself with a hand. "I'll do whatever you say, right away, sir!" She then blew a raspberry. "Did you really think putting on a sexy voice is all leadership is?"
Shrugging, he replied, "Eh, worth a shot. It worked for Pyrrha."
His steps slowed for a fraction of a second as the gravity of Tattletale's offhand comment struck him. It worked for Pyrrha!
Mind racing, he delved further into the implications of that, exploring the whys and wherefores, and was on the verge of what felt like a breakthrough when Tattletale steered the roomba so she could bump him on the side.
"That girl's probably just another goody-two-shoes," she accused. "Always listening to her teachers, I'll bet."
Jaune opened his mouth to protest before recalling the events of his last day on Remnant, and where it led regarding the state of Pyrrha's soul. In hindsight, his Beacon partner did have a tendency to go along with the expectation of others.
"I can't say you're wrong." Ruefully, he hung his head low. Dark rain clouds began to gather above him. "Damn, that sure puts things in perspective. I wonder if I was doing a bad job…"
Before he could fall into a moody funk, Tattletale patted him on the arm. "Don't sweat it. A huge part of being a leader is presenting the right image. Buy better clothes, get a haircut, and you're halfway there."
"...What's wrong with my hair?"
She raised an eyebrow to make him feel very self-conscious.
"It's not that bad!" he insisted. "A lot of people in Vale have this style!"
His confidence faltered when she simply turned to look straight ahead and, without replying, urged the robot to go faster. Jaune hurried to keep pace, walking whilst pulling strands of hair in front of his face to study them.
As they approached the turn, they started to catch the sound of human presence. A decent-sized crowd, judging by the babble of voices, and lacking in panic or other worrisome emotions that might spell trouble for the pair. A peek around the corner confirmed that heartening bit of news.
Before their eyes laid neither battle nor danger, only the sight of ordinary people going about their day. The pair stumbled out of cover, heads on a swivel as they entered an indoor plaza surrounded by shops ranging from book sellers to music stores to cafes to arcades, with avenues branching off the area lined by even more businesses to create an entire neighborhood. Colorful displays advertised a multitude of different products, peppy pop songs blared from shop speakers to compete for attention, and cartoon mascots performed for the crowd. Of the scents, Jaune detected hamburgers, pizzas, stir-fries, and baked sweets among a dozen other fares.
A number of staircases around the perimeter allowed access to different levels. Sunlight filtered into the underground space from the sets of steps leading above, while a nearby map detailed two additional floors below this one, as well as revealing the true extent of the labyrinthine structure they were inside—the passages spanned entire city blocks to connect similar plazas. Hundreds of people walked to and fro. They browsed and ate food, chatted and told jokes, with most of them wearing what looked like school uniforms.
His heart clenched at the scene. He didn't see the deals or unreadable words or unfamiliar brands. As he watched life go by, its myriad worries and troubles oh so mundane, Jaune saw peace.
Something within him—a coiled tension that has held tight ever since the first shot was fired to kick off the battle for Beacon, that has not relented even in the quiet moments—slowly ebbed until he stood at complete ease, and he broke into a carefree smile.
Academy City, huh? This could be a wonderful day.
Tattletale had a different perspective.
"Uhhh, Jaune?" she called, her voice soft and hesitant as she tugged on his sleeve.
He turned his head to look at her. The girl was squirming in her seat, somewhat curling into herself.
"What's up?"
"Funny thing, they don't seem to have capes here. Or Huntsmen. Which is why we're standing out...a little too much." Face growing red, she pointed a finger.
As the pair studied their surroundings, so too had their surroundings taken notice of them. Although, it would be more apt to say that she was the one receiving the brunt of the scrutiny. Jaune might garner a number of glances that he chalked down to Crocea Mors on his hips, but it paled in comparison with the sheer amount of gawking stares leveled at Tattletale. True to the name, the vast majority of Academy City's people seemed to be students in their teenage years, and she with her spandex catsuit had captured the complete and incredulous focus of the boys in the crowd.
Food and scrolls—phones—fell from slack grips to hit the floor. Some students would shake or slap the shoulders of their oblivious friends to get them to shut up and look. Conversations halted, or broke out in fierce whispers. Others met with mishap due to distraction, such as the boy with pointy black hair who had tripped over a bench to faceplant on the tiles; the girl beside him missed the incident, her mouth flapping wordlessly as she stared at Tattletale's attire in a stupor.
Jaune searched for something to say. "Didn't you grab every chance you got to show off in Dunwall? I thought you loved attention." He distinctly recalled Tattletale preening whenever she stood under the spotlight.
"Not like this!" she cried, embarrassment written clear across her face.
Then again, he supposed that particular spotlight had involved Tattletale wowing the audience with her deductions, impressing upon them that she above all was the smartest person in the room. The people in their vicinity didn't see her as a borderline psychic. Nor did they take one look at her costume and immediately regard her a cool and mysterious supervillainess the way a typical bystander would back on Earth Bet. Here, to them, she was just a kinky weirdo wearing skimpy clothing amidst a sea of normal civilians. The line between superhero fashion and that may be subtle, but there was a difference, nevertheless.
"Would you like to borrow my poncho?" Jaune offered.
"Yes, please! Right about now would be nice!"
Hopping off of the roomba to let it zoom away, Tattletale donned in a hurry the Panacea Poncho he passed to her. Black, purple, red, white, the combination of her costume and the outer garment resulted in a clash of colors that hurt the eyes, though Jaune doubted that was the reason said eyes shifted to him. The grief and jealousy within those gazes, along with the piteous outcry from all directions, told him he had not gained any favors with the male population present.
Rosy-cheeked, Tattletale ignored them with a careful deliberateness, and proceeded to remove her utility belt along with her various weaponry to hand them over to him. "Take these, and hide your sword, too. A couple of people are starting to think about calling the cops."
A quick glance corroborated her warning. Heeding her, he grabbed the lot and departed to duck behind the corner they came from. Once away from prying eyes, the objects disappeared into his Pocket between one stride and the next. A tap on Crocea Mors sent it to the same location, and he pivoted on his heel to walk back out empty-handed.
Totally smooth and not suspicious, at all.
In his brief absence, Tattletale had wandered off to study the map. Looking rather endearing in the voluminous poncho, she summed up her findings as he regrouped with her.
"The whole place is one big mall."
"Cool. We can get our shopping done, then. You see a clothing store anywhere? I would love a few extra pairs of jeans. Mine won't last much longer."
He had started out wearing jeans that were already ripped, and the holes kept getting bigger with each passing universe. It had stopped being a fashion statement after a certain point, and ended up as just raggedy pants.
Indicating her, he added, "You could also do with a less conspicuous outfit, and casualwear in newer styles than a century ago."
"We'll put a list together," she agreed. "I think clothes would be easy to find. It's things like furniture that we might have trouble getting our hands on." Catching the question he was about to ask, she explained, "So far, nine out of ten people passing by are students. The mall is obviously catering to them, and that means selling stuff that teenagers can afford and want. Why do you think not a single person within sight has made a big purchase?"
He hadn't noticed that detail to begin with, and she very well knew it.
"And here I was looking forward to a bed of my own. How inconvenient."
She shrugged. "That's not to say we won't find a store elsewhere. Just not here."
"Let's put a pin on it. Space is limited in the Pocket, and I don't fancy lugging a mattress across half the city. Furniture isn't critical, anyway. Our first stop should be a weapons shop, then a blacksmith. We can offload some of our guns and now you're giving me a weird look what did I say?"
"I'm pretty sure we won't find either of those, and if you try to sell firearms, the cops will probably get involved. Think of it as another difference between Earth and Remnant." She burst into tinkling laughter as he sighed in exasperation. "I keep telling you, your world is the strange one!"
"Uh-huh. You told me about the turducken, Tattletale. As far as I'm concerned, that forever disqualifies Earth from the label of 'normal'."
"It's delicious, and therefore deserves an exception."
"Agree to disagree."
"No. I'm right and you're wrong," she asserted, crossing her arms while displaying a cheeky grin, daring him to argue that fact of life.
Knowing well the uphill struggle of persuading an Annoying Blonde otherwise, Jaune rolled his eyes, and dropped a hand on her head to ruffle her hair.
Tattletale stared.
He retracted his hand. "I…didn't mean to do that."
"R-right. Um." Tattletale swallowed. "Come on, we're wasting time standing around like this. I know just where to hit up first."
Jaune grabbed onto her attempt to divert the awkward atmosphere with both hands. Following the direction she pointed, he observed the store. Tucked between a restaurant and a sports equipment retailer, it was easy to miss, with a small interior populated by a counter, a few chairs, a magazine rack, and two shelves of those phone devices. A banner on the floor-to-ceiling glass window showcased the season's newest models.
"A phone's the window to a font of information, and the perfect start to let us search for clues on what's worth taking from this world. There hasn't been a hint of magic yet, so it may be hidden, and I'd prefer to not waste time running blind. Since I figured you would object to pickpocketing it from somebody"—That got an emphatic nod from Jaune—"we'll buy one. Oh, and keep an eye out for if they have a pair of walkie-talkies for sale. They're usually cheap and I think there's a fair chance it would work in other worlds. A means of communication between us is important."
The plan sounded as good as any, so Jaune quickly voiced his endorsement. They crossed the plaza together, and thankfully drew less attention now that the passersby understood the show was over. Their blond hair seemed to be a sticking point, though.
Hair colors were…strange in the wider universes. Of the various places he visited, they had been on the drab side, with three or four dominant hues. Japan featured the smallest range of differences thus far—mainly shades of black or brown. Maybe blondes were a rarity here?
As they approached the shop, Tattletale cautioned him, "We might encounter a problem with the currency. Let's see how it shakes out, 'kay?"
"Why would that be? We have Earth money."
"Dollars," she corrected. "And first of all, that doesn't work everywhere on the planet."
"Eh? Of course it would. Money's money."
"You use the same currency in all the Kingdoms, don't you? Well, it's not how it works on Earth. Each country prints their own."
Jaune tried to wrap his head around that new information. It sounded a little unbelievable. "But why?"
"A lot of civilizations sprouted up in relative isolation. They devised money for their people to use in their economy, and that went on for ages. By the time the countries began heavy trading, it's already established practice that every nation generally creates a separate currency, as a matter of pride if not practicality."
"You said there's trade now, so people must have a way to spend the money they earn from other countries. Can we exchange dollars for yens? Is that a thing?"
Tattletale nodded. "Banks provide that service." Then, she winced. "Second issue is, we have another Earth's money. A bank would definitely catch it and think we're counterfeiters. Exchanging the gold is our best bet, but that attracts its own scrutiny from the authorities. A easier option is to go to a pawnshop, they tend to ask fewer questions…"
"Works for me."
"Unfortunately, I don't think we would find a place operating aboveboard in Academy City."
He cocked his head, confused. Realization dawned a moment later. "Pawnshops are one of those businesses that wouldn't cater to students."
"Exactly. If one exists here, I bet you it's closely regulated by the government to prevent their precious kiddies from getting scammed. The criminals would run the other sort."
Illegal fences, she meant. And that brought its own troubles, going by the movies.
"What does this leave us with?"
Flashing a grin, she declared, "Confidence."
Tattletale tossed her hair over her shoulder, and strutted into the phone store as if she owned it. The cool rush of the shop's air conditioning wafted over the pair. As the electronic tone of the doorbell chimed, the store clerk sitting behind the counter—goofing off work and perusing a magazine—turned to them with a customer service smile.
"Irasshaimase!"
Fucking what?
Jaune whirled to stare at Tattletale, who accepted the unknown and otherworldly sentence without missing a beat, dipping her head in low nod.
"Hi there!" she chirped.
That, he understood, and the two words had the impact of a slap on the clerk's budding sales pitch. The smile slipped from the face of the young woman, and she adopted a more hesitant mien.
"Oh…ah…hel-lo."
The ensuing conversation proceeded at an odd pace, with the employee speaking in a halting lilt whilst responding to Tattletale's innocuous requests. She's nervous. Jittery. It set off immediate alarm bells in Jaune's mind, and he soon disengaged from their back and forth to scan the shop with a careful eye.
What cause was there for the wariness against Jaune and Tattletale? All that his companion had said was a friendly greeting. The tensed reaction denoted that the pair has done something wrong, or been where they were not supposed to be. The first suspicion he arrived at prompted him to sneak a surreptitious glance behind the counter, on the lookout for the dead body of the real clerk.
…Okay, so the woman was likely the actual one. Phew.
Still, that did not solve the mystery before him, and the increasing frustration of Tattletale compounded the problem. Cracks were forming in her confidence act as time went on. Gold coins dropped one by one onto the counter, and was met with consternation on the part of the clerk. Rather than accepting them, she insisted on pushing the coins back to them, shaking her head in refusal no matter how Tattletale tried to sweeten the deal. Something about it being beyond the employee's…something.
The words were garbled, okay? Hell, quite a bit of it didn't sound like any vocabulary he knew, as far as he could tell. Were they cyphers?
Meanwhile, Tattletale plonked down the fifth coin. "There. All real gold. Get it appraised, call in an expert, whatever you want. We're good for it."
The situation came to a head. Jaune could sense it, the final straw as the clerk prepared to ask them to leave, or call the authorities.
Then, someone behind them cut in, speaking in a crisp and clear tone, the words recognizable.
"Ahem. I can exchange that with yen for you."
Everyone in the shop spun to look at the newcomer.
Chestnut colored hair, adorned by a flower hair clip. School uniform—red bow tie, blazer, and pleated skirt. The girl standing there was younger than them by a few years. On her delicate face was a smug grin that would do Tattletale proud.
Her appearance pinged his memory, and a peek over her head confirmed the presence of a boy with pointy black hair, shoulders slumped and wearing a suffering expression. The one who had performed a most glorious faceplant on catching sight of Tattletale in her costume.
The girl was still waiting for an answer, and so Jaune said, "Really?"
"Wait," interrupted Tattletale. "She has a motive." Adopting a detective pose of a hand on her chin and a piercing gaze, she studied their would-be benefactor. "She's not doing this out of the kindness—not only out of the kindness of her heart," she amended, relaxing.
The female student clapped her hands together. "I see you understand! Tell me, have you heard of the pair contract promotion?"
"Oh, here and there," Tattletale lied. "So, your offer has to do with that. You are"—following a minute cue, her eyes flicked to the nearby poster plastered on the window—"doing this for a…a toy?" Here, she faltered.
Jaune gave the poster a glance. It featured two frog-like things attached to straps, next to a pair of phones. One frog was green, and rather basic in appearance. The other was pink, with a red bow behind its head.
"That's right!" declared the kind stranger. "The commission fee for the First Bank of Academy City's Number Three Esper is the Gekota straps, available today if you sign up for a pair contract!"
"Don't these frogs seem, I don't know, a little childish?" Jaune commented.
Suddenly, the lights overhead flickered, and the smell of ozone filled the store.
"It's not! You better take that back right now!" Sparks of electricity flashed around the girl as she stamped her foot.
Oh hey, there's that magic they were looking for.
Universe: A Certain Magical Index. Location: Academy City. Event: September 30
Author's Notes: Irasshaimase? What nefarious intentions does this store clerk have, to speak in a secret code!?
.
Jaune—I…didn't mean to do that.
Tattletale—Fuck you, do it again!
*Headpats ensue*
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As mentioned, from Christmas to the end of January, I will be off to explore new lands!...that other people have been to, and settled, and built countries on. Anyway, it's rather hard to say how updates will go, but this will for sure get me a few ideas for writing.