Mahou Shonen Just Say No Chapter Five

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Yuuri stood at the train station, even though it was much too late at night for any trains to be running anymore.  It was raining; downpouring, which was odd for this time of year.  In late December it would be snowing, but the weather didn't always elect to make sense.  It had been a few weeks now, since Yuuri had threatened the director but failed to get Kanoshi's job back to him.  Horace was still fighting the level 8 monster in Kyoto; Oh One said that it was under control, but the monster was the sort which took a very long time to kill.  All of the magica in the area were taking shifts beating on it over the weeks.  As long as somebody continued to engage with the beast, it wouldn't cause any property damage.  Yuuri thought that an endurance test like that sounded miserable.

He was glad to have gotten Kanoshi moved into an apartment in the same building as himself.  Not out of some strange desire to be closer in proximity to a teacher who had gone on to become his friend, but because he knew that Kanoshi likely would have become depressed if he didn't have a solution to the eviction problem as soon as possible, and Yuuri didn't want to see him like that.  Now, as he stood and shivered in this December rain, he was just worrying what would happen if a monster like the one that Horace was away fighting right now came to his own city.  Who were even all the magica here?  He doubted that Ribbon Red had stuck around after killing her target.  Infernal, who had more formally introduced himself as Tsukune Madara, was promising in talent but lacked drive.  Kanoshi was a powerful healer, but that didn't mean much without DPS to heal.

There was Lullabye to consider, but Yuuri had never met the man himself, just hearing secondhand stories from Blem about the magica that distributor had contracted.  With Horace in Kyoto and Oh One following that prince anywhere, most communication with the distributors was over phone now.  The rest of Oh One's posse had scattered to check on their different magica around the world while their leader was preoccupied.  Yuuri still had no clue how the distributors texted so well, given their method seemed to be 'hack up a cell phone like a hairball then hit it with their faces', but he was glad that they did.  It would have been a pain, not to be able to keep in touch over a long distance.

"Hey," A voice snapped Yuuri out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a young girl had just sauntered up to stand next to him.  She looked like a child, but moved like somebody with a lot of experience, "Your mark is showing," Yuuri was startled by her statement, and checked his arms.  In his preoccupation today, he'd rolled up the wrong sleeve fashionably when he got out of work.  He decided he was cold enough to leave them both rolled down, and flushed with embarrassment as he looked away.

"Sorry you had to see that," He apologized.

"That's fine.  You're Smokescreen, right?' She steps closer to him, staring right through his eyes from her diminutive height.

"...How could you possibly figure that out?" He asked, looking away with a frown.  Had he forgotten to put a glamour on while fighting a small fry monster in the past few weeks?

"Don't worry, you didn't forget your glamours.  I can just tell it's you because of what you did.  Yeah, I heard about it.  That director?  So soon after Moron-sensei became a magical boy... And you're the only other person he ever talks to.  It's not too hard to figure out you must be the one who did that," She explained, then crossed her arms in front of herself, "That impotence smoke, though?  That's personal.  He another one of the men who paid to have you blow 'em?"

"What are you-" Yuuri snapped, taking a step backwards to keep himself from hitting a child.  She doesn't falter at all, though, and just unbuttons her shirt with a blank expression.  Nestled perfectly between yakuza tattoos on her chest is a question mark, and moments later she's transformed, forgoing a glamour for the first time ever.  Yuuri just stared at her for a moment, then chuckled, "Red, huh?  Could've told me that before you demonstrated a freakish knowledge of my past."

Pretty Fighter Ribbon Red

"If you're going to open up about that past to a magica who's using a glamour, you should be prepared for any stranger to know," She lodged her weapon in the concrete, leaving it there as she stepped up to the platform and sat down, dangling her feet out over the tracks.  She gestured for Yuuri to join her there, and he did, "Hopefully, I'm the last mystery, though.  I can't imagine you blab about that to just anybody.  I'm ~special~, right Rukkun?"

He put his chin in his hands, glanced at her, then transformed as well.  It was weird to be sitting there in casual clothing when she was definitely not, "I told you because I was scared of you.  I didn't know your gig except that you targeted sexual deviants.  Kinda had to say that I'd been a victim if I thought you were gonna kill me for selling my services."

"I only kill those who truly deserve to die.  I was there to kill your client, though, so at least you have bad taste," She waved a finger in the air, "I forgot to say it sooner, but that's clever.  Using transformed glamour to keep your sex work separate from the rest of your life.  Innovative use of this curse we got.  So, we're friends, right?  Tell me about this director guy.  You never answered my question, if he was one of the guys your mom got paid to let fuck you up?"

Yuuri hesitated to answer, but he knew one thing for certain.  Red, whatever her real name was, had to have a reason for her victimology.  That reason was probably not unlike Yuuri's own purpose when it came to causing others harm.  With that in mind, he groaned and answered, "Yeah, he was.  One of the first that she let pay extra to go beyond blowjobs and heavy petting..."

"I can see why you'd want him to suffer," Red nodded, her pigtails bouncing on either side of her face, "Disgusting.  How long do those pellets last again?"

"The impotence one's a month, it's getting close to running out..." Realizing the amount of time that had passed was unsettling.  One monster could really take this long?  How would he handle it if something like that ever came to this city?  Well, "Red, what are you doing still in Tokyo?"

She blinked a bit at the conversational whiplash before answering, "A month, huh?  Well, I've been hanging around since I came by in October.  Tokyo's rife with crime.  Some of my Onii-sans have got monsters in Kobe covered without me... And the sweet shops in Tokyo are sooo good!" She giggles a bit and kicks her feet in top speed at that statement, "Mm, now I want some manju, but it's too late at night, ugh.  Maybe that cheesecake place is still open, though..."

"That's a respectable enough reason,"Yuuri chuckled, "You're pretty strong, so I'd be glad if you stuck around longer.  You've heard about the monster in Kyoto, right?"

She looks up at the sky with a sigh as she nods, "Yeah, I heard about it.  It's been almost a month, and I hear it's only half-beaten.  Blade's really mad that none of its current magica can go participate, since the thing's only weak to ranged weapons."

"Who else has Blade got, besides you?" Yuuri wondered.  He didn't know who any of Sugarcanesugarcane's other magica were, but it sounded like Red was aware of her comrades.

"There's pretty fighter ribbon stripe, who uses a shiv... and a few other ribbons, I think?  All I know is that we're all close-combat.  Brown had guns, but he's dead now," Red stood back up and looked around the landscape, "Blade should have another charge real soon, though, so maybe it can get ahold of somebody else with a ranged attack somewhere in the world.  It's been almost two months, that's about how long it takes to charge for most of 'em."

"Yeah, unless their ability's to charge extra fast.  Hey, Red?" Yuuri questioned, "What's Blade's ability?"

"Call me Sayaka, that's my real name," She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, "Blade's ability?  Its magica experience less-drastic loss of ranking.  That's how I can kill humans and still hover around rank twenty-eight.  Chikd's human-killers, for example, are all the way down around rank one-hundred, even though we target the same sort of people, and just about as often."

Yuuri stood up as well, "Sayaka-chan.  That's a cute name," He chuckled, messing around with his revolver, "Everything about you's pretty cute, except for the brutal murders of course."

She stared off down the train tracks, "I like to think even my brutality is endearing," She mumbled, then took a step backwards and pulled her gigantic axe from the concrete, grabbed Yuuri's wrist, and swung it out over the tracks.  Before Yuuri could even process what had happened, they were moving.  Fast... Too fast.  Sayaka's axe was embedded in the side of a train, and she was holding onto the handle with just one hand as she kept Yuuri with the other one.  He had no idea what was happening.  It hadn't looked to him as if a train was arriving, and at this time of night, there shouldn't have been one.  He was about to yell at Sayaka when she explained without even raising her voice, "This train's going straight to the level five monster which just appeared in Shinjuku."

"Wh- How do you know that!?" Yuuri questioned, trying to adjust his position so his body wasn't flapping around in the wind quite as much.

"Sugar must have explained it to you when you contracted," Sayaka answered. "The longer you're a magica, the more abilities like the ones the distributors have you acquire.  Two months, and you know when a new magica's been created. Five months, and you know when a monster spawns without being told by a distributor.  Nine and you can tell when magic's being used, and a year lets you know if somebody would be willing or not to become a magica.  Horace is the only one with that ability so far, but I'm getting close at eleven months.  We've got a working theory that two years allows Distributor-level teleportation, but that might not be the case since some magica have teleportation magic as their skill."

"I knew about those skills, but that doesn't exactly answer my question!" Yuuri was coming up on his five month marker himself, so he'd soon be getting that power-up, "And holy shit, Sayaka-chan!  Eleven months!?"

Sayaka Yamaguchi

She glanced back at him, then tossed him through a window into the train and followed after, as she was getting sick of speaking over high speed winds, "Yes, eleven months.  I was the first magica to contract in Japan, when Blade got here.  Of course I seized upon the opportunity to grow stronger, and be of even more use to my family...  Anyway, this train's going towards Shinjuku, and I can tell it's being controlled by magic, so I have to assume whoever's moving it wants to fight the monster."

"Your family," Yuuri thought it over for a moment, "Those tattoos, and you mentioned Kobe.  They're the Yamaguchi-gumi, right?"

She smirked at him as he got to his feet from being tossed, "Clever, Rukkun!  That's right, and I'm proud of it.  I was already a stellar enforcer and assassin, but now I have power beyond the limits of humanity, as do a few of my Onii-sans back home.  The yakuza may be old-fashioned, but we didn't keep selling heroin when we started getting shipments of oxy.  We stick to tradition, but you have to be on the cutting edge when it comes to illicit activities," She reached back out of the window and pulled her axe into the traincar as she explained.

"...Welcome aboard," Another voice spoke, and the two magica turned to see a third one there.  His emerald eyes had a faint glow to them, and a quiet song seemed to be emanating from the question mark on his neck, "Ribbon Red.  Smokescreen.  It's lovely to finally make your acquaintance.  I am Lullabye."

"Lullabye?  You're the one controlling this train?" Sayaka questioned, leaning against the handle of her weapon with eyebrows raised, "The one, the only, number nine?"

"Please, no need to act as if that's an impressive feat.  I only climbed that high because I'm trying to build up enough power to create a magica myself," Lullabye chuckled, raising a hand to his mouth, "I only fight higher level monsters like this one because otherwise, I don't make a profit on magic.  I really rely on using power to win, which makes it difficult to save up unless I'm careful about it.  I'm sure that once I've brought her back, I'll fall much further down the rankings."

"So, do you want some help on that level five?" Yuuri asked, stepping forward, "I've been working with Infernal on some small fry, and it seems like every participant in a battle gets the same rewards as if they'd done it solo as long as the number of fighters doesn't exceed double the monster's level."

"That would be appreciated," Lullabye nodded, then sat down in one of the train's seats, "I would have thought you'd prefer not to work with me, since I only go after the big catches..."

Lullabye

Yuuri sat down as well, but Sayaka stayed standing with her weapon, and he addressed Lullabye, "Nah dude, your reason for doing that makes sense.  I'm not about to hold it against you.  I waste magic on dumb things all the time, but I don't need to use it to win, so if we teamed up we could fight lower levels without needing any magic at all.  Sayaka-chan?" He turned to her.

"Just because we're friends doesn't mean I'll be joining any teams," She pouted, looking away from him, "I'll help defend Tokyo, obviously, but it'd look real bad for me to be the only magical girl among a bunch of grown men!  There's just no way I could ever agree to any official alliance."

Despite what she said, though, Yuuri had faith that Sayaka would be there if they ever needed her.  She was a powerful magica, very high up in the rankings.  She'd be higher if she wasn't a murderer; and she was much higher than Yuuri.  He knew there were two reasons for that.  She had a better magical ability than he did, and he didn't have the buffer against reductions that she did.  That was just the problem with being a violent person.

He didn't worry too much, though.  Sugarcanesugarcane didn't mind that he kept falling down the rankings, since it was actually in possession of the number three magica.  Oh One's posse would have had a monopoly on the top ten spots if not for Fizzy Pop, one of Chikd's duos who seemed to embody everything that magical girls should be, and had impressive power to boot, pulling the second place spot.

"Brace for impact," Lullabye warned the two of them.  Yuuri grabbed onto a support pole, and Sayaka positioned herself between the wall and her weapon.  Moments later, the train crashed directly into the monster, the back few cars completely collapsing against it.  Lullabye nodded to the others and flew out of the smashed window, the music from his mark cutting out and his eyes closing as he dropped control of the train.  Yuuri and Sayaka leapt out as well, getting onto the roof of the train which was embedded in the monster and taking up a battle stance.

The beast was tall, so the train ramming had only disabled one foot, but at least that meant the creature wouldn't be able to run too far, and the battle would be restrained to a single location.  Sayaka launched herself into the air immediately, swinging her axe around to come down on the left eye of the monster.  This one seemed to resemble a towering golem, but it shrieked in pain when she hurt its eye.  Piggybacking on that idea, Yuuri shot smoke pellets in Sayaka's direction to cloak her before the monster regained its sight on that side.

Lullabye, meanwhile, was playing another song, this time one which turned the asphalt below the monster's feet into quicksand, further securing it in place.  He started throwing out his weaponry then, little letter zeds which seemed to behave as throwing knives with sharp edges the whole way around.  Against a monster, something like those were just distractions, even more than bullets.  At least Yuuri did damage, but the 'health bar' which seemed to show the monster's endurance didn't decrease at all until Lullabye emptied his entire clip into its skin, and even then, just a small bit.  Yuuri could see how Lullabye needed to rely on his magic.

"Lullabye!" Yuuri shouted towards him, "Save your magic, right?  You've already done plenty, Red and I can do the rest!" As he said that, Sayaka landed on top of the thing's head and started hacking away with quick but heavy swings of her battleaxe, spraying the monster's clay-colored blood in every direction.  Even so, Yuuri noted that the bar above its head wasn't going down nearly enough.  Another one with a large health pool, or was it just high defense?

When he was about to yell to Sayaka to help him figure the thing out before they wasted their energy on potentially inefficient attacks, he was smacked to the ground.  He was so preoccupied that he forgot it could attack back.  He slid across the gravel when he hit the ground, scraping against the outsides of his arms.  He kept his marking safe and away from harm.  He didn't know what would happen if it was to suffer injury, but he'd been warned against it.

The golem raised its hand again in a fist, moving to bring it down on Yuuri before he could get back up, but before that could happen there was a loud, explosive noise, and the monster's fist was blown clean off, smashing into a building three blocks away as the wrist sprayed that liquid clay blood over the entire area.  Yuuri knew that noise by now; he got to his feet and saw, as he expected, Tsukune standing there.  As Infernal, he had a very interesting skillset; his weaponry was heavy-duty artillery weapons, such as rocket launchers on tripods, but they lacked triggers.  He could only ignite the gunpowder to fire them by utilizing his flame magic, which did make it hard for any other magica he was fighting against to commandeer them.  His ranking game in at 50, 12 ranks higher than Yuuri.  He thought that Tsukune would rank even higher if he actually cared about anything, but he always looked bored in battle and didn't have a cause he was fighting for.

The golem reeled back in pain, and Yuuri noted that having its hand blown off had put a huge dent in its health bar.  So it was weak to that sort of attack.  As it was recoiling from its injury, Sayaka couldn't keep her purchase on its head anymore, the chunk of rock that she'd lodged her axe into crumbling and sending her hurtling toward the ground.  Lullabye hurtled towards her, seeming to be a floating type magica, and caught her in the pillow that he carried as part of his costume.  After setting her down gently, he looked to the blast's origin and a grin split his face when he called out, "Tsukkun!"

"Hey, Zhou," Tsukune gave a halfhearted wave back, then moved on to aiming his next weapon at the monster's chest.  He doubted his ability to hit its head with something that had enough firepower to do huge damage, since the head was disproportionately small compared to the rest of the creature.  As he was distracted with aiming, the golem grew spikes out of its back, shards which it began to fire wildly.  Tsukune didn't even blink.  The rest of the magica present covered their faces as best they could, some of the rock shards grazing them.  Sayaka got one embedded in her wrist, which she didn't bother plucking out because bleeding would be more distracting than having a rock shard stuck in her wrist.

Tsukune didn't get hit with any shards, though, Yuuri noted when he looked back in that direction.  Kanoshi had arrived as well, and blocked all the shards which had gone in that direction.  He looked to the three magica on the ground, and Yuuri told Sayaka that she'd have to remove the shard if she wanted her injuries healed.  Kanoshi had blocked more shards with his shield than had even gone in the general direction of those three, so he had more than enough magic to patch them up before he returned to the sidelines to keep out of targeting range until he was needed once more.

Or that would be the case, if Tsukune didn't immediately fire off another blast as soon as Kanoshi was out of the way, blowing a hole clean through the golem's chest.  It investigated its own injury for a moment, looking down at the hole in its chest, then fell over, collapsing down onto the ground.  Due to its feet being mired in the road beneath it, its ankles cracked and broke, and that was the last straw for the rest of the beast's endurance bar.  It was defeated.  It dissipated into magic power which was given to each participant in its full amount, and left behind five orbs.  One for each magica belonging to a different distributor.

When Kanoshi had first seen that happen, he'd wondered how it could be that the creatures cared about the number of people who had fought against it.  He'd messaged Oh One asking about it, though, and received an answer.  The monsters were the only food source for distributors, and that was the core of what they were; the only problem was that Distributors couldn't fight them on their own, needing to imbue others with the ability to use the planet's magic to battle against them.

It was still a matter of feeding, however, and it only made sense that if the distributors' tools to that end worked to become more efficient, they would be rewarded with a greater yield.  With the golem defeated, the group of magica watched as the damage to the city undid itself, and life went on as usual.  It seemed that monster battles occurred in a similar way to Lionhardt's magic, only on a much greater scale.  A pocket dimension, which if not dispelled by destroying the monster, would impact the real world.

There was the issue of magica who believed they were stronger than they actually were.  If one of them initiated a fight and was defeated before anybody else arrived, then the monster would have a free pass to cause as much destruction as it wanted.  Since becoming a magical boy himself, Kanoshi finally understood.  It would be easier to fight monsters far from society, and there were plenty of those.  City centers could always use more magica, because there were far worse consequences if all of them were defeated.

Even Zhou, who had already gone back to his human form, preferred offering protection even when he was trying to collect power for a reason.  A monster buffet out in the hinterlands would get him there a lot faster, but he thought that if he was going to be a magical boy for such a selfish reason as bringing back a person he wanted to see again, the least he could do was use his position to help people.

"...Pretty Fighter Ribbon Red?" Kanoshi asked as he flew down to land in front of her, eyebrows raised, "You're that Korekara student who called me Moron-sensei?"

"Yeah, I dropped the glamour," Sayaka nodded, twirling her axe behind herself before she stuck it into the ground again, "I figure it's not necessary anymore, since most of us here in Tokyo already knew who was who.  It's better to be transparent with this sort of thing after a certain point."

"Well, I hope that we can work together to protect the city!" Kanoshi nodded, giving a short bow to her out of respect.  Her power really was impressive, since she was pulling rank 28 even as a killer of humans.  Kanoshi himself sat at rank 4, which he honestly found very strange.  Some said that it was a result of him being so new, it was calculated based on his power level and the fact that he'd given that level of power over to becoming a support.  That alone was a show of his willingness to help others, which stood out to the universal forces which seemed to decide rankings that nobody much understood.

Kanoshi had to work hard if he wanted to keep his spot, because if he made a mistake, that could easily plummet.  Given his lack of combat abilities, it did seem that maintaining a high ranking would be the only way to build up magical power.  Sayaka didn't need her ranking to stand on, since she had such brutality she could defeat monsters up to level three on her own without utilizing any magic, though anyone in the top 100 did get a bonus to the rate at which it built up.

"I'm sure as Hell not keen on working with lolicons, but I guess you've all proven yourselves to be better men than that.  Well, except for you, Lullabye," She turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes, "I don't know a thing about you yet."

"The name's Zhou Wang," He introduced himself with a wave, now feeling awkward that he was the only one to have transformed back yet, "I'm not a lolicon either.  I always liked people my own age.  Actually, I don't even know if I have any preferences anymore.  I've been kind of distracted from everything since I became a magical boy in October, trying to collect magic.  I want to bring back my little sister who was killed in the Korekara Massacre."

"...Mayu, right?" Sayaka questioned, tilting her head to the side as she dropped her transformation as well, axe disappearing behind her to leave only its gouge in the pavement, "A second year.  We never really spoke to each other, but I know that she was kind and sweet.I hope you succeed in your goal.  I'd really like to get to know her."

"I'm going to do it," Zhou held his hands in close to himself, balling them up into fists in his determination, "I can't just let her life end the way it did.  She had so much more time, and she never got to experience life for real.  It was always through a screen, because she thought she couldn't belong with other people who would judge her for her... uselessness."

"That's why we had that chatroom," Tsukune stepped in, also having discarded his magical form now, his voice sounding just as bored as ever, "Mayu-chan sought out NEETs and Otaku like her, because if we all felt that we ourselves had some degree of worthlessness, then she didn't have to be afraid.  We were all just the same.  Sometimes, the only way to live as somebody with little self worth is to find others with just as little."

"Zhou-kun," Kanoshi held his hands to his chest, "I know that you'll succeed.  You'll bring Mayu back, and then we can all work together.  Even if she's scared at first, all of us will be there to help her.  I guess that she's kind of a common threat between all of us, if we look at it that way."

"I've almost gathered enough magical power.  At this rate, it might just be a few more months until I have enough that I could bring her back... but once I do, I still have to find where they're keeping her," Zhou explained his goal, "I know that her body's being preserved somewhere as evidence for the Korekara Massacre, I just need to find where that is."

"That could take years," Sayaka mumbled, leaning back against a wall as she rebuttoned her shirt, glad that with the hour of the day there were no civilians to see the gathering of so many magica in one place.  That would be cause for alarm, "Korekara's board are infamous for their abilities to cover up anything and everything.  They convinced the entire country to barely bat an eyelash over the slow elimination of the entire graduating class of 2015, acted as if a pair of students who were murdered off-campus had never existed in the first place, and there's still nobody who really knows who Headmistress Kira is.  If they don't want anybody to know where their morgue is, then nobody will."

"I know.  But... If I can't use magic to at least discover that much, then what's the point?  Even if it does take years for me to do it, I'll find where they're keeping her body, and I'll bring her back," Zhou insisted, then dropped his arms to his sides, "...What are all of us doing awake at this hour anyway?  I'm basically nocturnal these days, but the rest of you..."

"I was up late playing video games," Kanoshi explained, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "Ruka-san sent Tsukki and I your coordinates, so we met up and came here to help.  Er, I mean, Madara-san!" Kanoshi looked to Tsukune, flushing in embarrassment, "I'm so used to using your online nickname, I'm sorry!"

"I don't care what you call me.  For all I give a shit, you could call me Doraemon and I'd still answer to it," He responded, then turned to everyone else to give his own explanation, "I'm nocturnal, too.  I sleep during the day, while my... Roommate, is at work, and I do freelance programming online to make cash myself.  Boring code monkey stuff.  Monsters appear more often at night anyway, so it makes sense for magica to adjust their schedules to match that, right?"

"Rukkun and I were hanging out at a train station, chatting," Sayaka jumped in, pointing her thumb back towards Yuuri, "I dunno why he was there, but I saw him and decided to have a little chat about how I managed to deduce who he was through the glamour.  Let that be a lesson not to rely on it too much, okay?  Magica, and humans who know a lot about us, still have ways to determine who might be a certain magica based on context clues."

"I was just there being introspective and shit.  I like the aesthetic of stations when the trains aren't running," Yuuri added in, then pulled his sleeve down to cover up his mark.  Zhou had already pulled the collar on his turtleneck back up, and Tsukune had unpinned his bangs.  Kanoshi was the last one to hide his, slipping the eyepatch back on.  Sayaka took a deep breath, then looked up at the sky as she shivered.  All of them had gotten thoroughly soaked by the heavy rain, and the temperature was dropping, too.  

The rain was changing to snow as they watched, staring as it left a light coat over the city which they protected.

Next Chapter ->

Evil Meet Justice Chapter 5

<-Previous Chapter

<-----First Chapter

Marc approaches his house, opening the door as soon as he reaches it.  He's agreed to go to the beach with his friends, of course, but he was having second thoughts at needing to stop at home to get his swimsuit.  Despite what he'd said to Mallory, he really isn't keen on stopping in.  He spends time with friends to get away from his family.

Well, his mother's fine, if a bit overwhelming in her compassion.  His father's the one who he tries to stay away from, when he can.  Aside from the occasional business trip, it's difficult, since Joe Fitson will take any excuse he can find to take a day off; it's a polarizing effect, for the most part.  A few days staying well into overtime at the office, then a few days where he finds some excuse to work from home or take more PTO than he was probably meant to have.

Were Marc his own father's boss, he'd fire him, but he unfortunately isn't.  Instead, the higher-ups all agree that they can let Joe's behavior slide on the simple fact that he's been working so long, and anytime they've even tried to get somebody trained to assist with his workload it hasn't worked out.  Marc wonders if that's because the trainees couldn't stand his father's absurd organization methods on the data he's responsible for, or if they just couldn't stand his personality.  'Both' seems to be the answer which makes the most sense.

Lucky enough for Marc, his father isn't in the dining room when he opens the front door.  With that potential off the table, he sighs in relief and makes his way upstairs to his room, to get his swimwear.  Swimming at Myna Beach was never warm, but he hadn't gone hypothermic yet either.  Still, it was generally agreed that it was safer to swim in that water with a bit more fabric on, so most people use rash-guards.  He's never seen anyone but tourists attempting to wear bikinis to that beach.

With the swimwear retrieved, Marc gets changed into it and stuffs his dry clothing into a tote bag so that he can change back when they're done, since he's planning to continue hanging out with Chris for as long as he's able to.  He doubts he'll be able to stay over tonight, what with Chris's cousins visiting, but at least he can eat dinner at the Gonzalez house.

On the matter of Chris's cousins, he's already decided that he's not especially fond of the orange-haired one.  It's got nothing to do with the fact that he doesn't shower enough, either; rather, that guy's been acting weird towards Mallory.  Marc may not be able to pinpoint the reason why he feels protective of her, but that doesn't change the fact that he is. Something about that guy just makes him feel... Uneasy.

That's the best way he can describe it.  Unease is the way that Dawson Packard makes him feel.  It isn't a matter of feeling possessive over Mallory, because of anyone in the world, she's the most impossible to possess.  And if it were Marc who Dawson was fixating on, he thinks he'd be equally as put off by it.  He doesn't want to go thinking the worst of his best friend's cousin, but he also isn't about to turn a blind eye to it.  Just because somebody is someone's relative doesn't excuse them from being suspicious.

Once Marc's changed and has everything he needs to bring with him, he moves to duck right back out of the house without being noticed, but his mother's walked into the kitchen.  She smiles at him, and he freezes as he waves, then gives in and walks into the room, keeping his voice low, "Hey, Mom.  Is Dad home?"

"Not right now," Marc's mother, Deborah, shakes her head as she answers, "He went out to get a few small things for his woodworking, that's why his car's still here.  He should be back soon, if you need something from him?"

Marc taps the counter, frowning, "The opposite, actually.  I was hoping to miss him altogether."

"Well, you should if you get going soon.  What were you up to?" Deborah asks, tapping her fingers on the counter in front of herself.  She doesn't even question why her son wants to avoid his father; she would avoid him too, if she had the opportunity.  It wasn't that she saw him as an absolutely awful husband, or even a bad person necessarily, but she had been young and too starry-eyed.  Joe Fitson was fine, she thought to herself, but he was not worth giving up on her dreams for.

She had truly been a fool, but that was all in the past now.  There was nothing she could have done about it, because she didn't have anything that really compelled her as grounds for a divorce.  It wasn't like she needed a sturdy reason, but it would help her to avoid losing anything.  Were she to divorce Joe, she didn't want to take anything from him, but she didn't want to lose a thing to him either.  Most especially not her son.  Deborah seemed to many like the model of a housewife, not worth much more than the meals she cooked, but she did have a college degree.  She had passed the Bar Test, too.

It is weird, she thinks, being a lawyer who'd never had the chance to tackle a single case.  Joe couldn't technically stop her, she knew, but there was something about being with him which kept her from finding any opportunities.  Maybe it was pathetic that she let an idea like that; Just the idea, control her, but she never claimed to be a person of strong character.

"I was hanging out with Chris and the others," Marc answers, "I just stopped by to get my swimsuit, since Chris decided he wants to go by Myna Beach.  The others are going to meet me along the way if I just walk a little bit faster.  They are slow as a group."

"Friends do tend to be," Deborah chuckles, lifting her hand up to pick at her nails, "I won't keep you longer, okay?  You should get going.  Enjoy the day with your friends, sweetie.  If you happen to run into Jacob, could you tell me how he's doing?  I lost his number again."

"Mom," Marc rolls his eyes as he wanders toward the door, "Sure, if we somehow end up either getting arrested or going to John and Mallory's house, I'll let Jacob know you said hi, and that you need his number again.  Or you could just call the town's non-emergency crime reporting number and hope he picks up."

"He's the father of my son's new friends, can you blame me for wanting to be on good terms with him?  You never know when you might need a favor from somebody.  Now shoo!" As Deborah tells him to shoo, he's already got the door open and one foot out.  As expected, he catches up with his friends without a problem.  When he arrives back to the group, they're discussing school lunch.

That's a nice, generic subject that everybody has some thoughts on, an easy way to break the ice in a group.

Marc joins in seamlessly, "So is it a universal thing that absolutely no potatoes served at a school can ever actually have anything resembling the texture of potatoes?"

"Good point," Mallory says, pushing her glasses up, "I do not see school potato as potato, but as gouache.  That's what it is, really."

"What the Hell is gouache?" Dawson questions, ever the uncultured one.

"It's a type of paint," Mallory explains, "And a style of painting, at the same time.  It's extra-thick, so it gives the painting a bit more of a three-dimensional feel.  Anyway, I don't have to worry about school lunches anymore.  John makes bagged lunches for both of us!"

"I hate to toot my own horn, but they are pretty good," John says, pressing his fingertips together, "I make a mean sandwich.  I use a lot of fresh produce from my garden too, when it's in season."

"You'll have to let me try one sometime," Tina gives John a smile, "Just the facts that they're sandwiches made with fresh produce makes them sound great.  And I trust Mallory's judgment, too."

"Don't trust my judgment," Mallory holds her hand up, "I mean, I can tell when a food's good, for sure.  But I also like a lot of food's that are definitely not good for real.  Like peanut butter and banana sandwiches-"

"Those are good, though," Dawson interrupts.

"With mayonnaise," Mallory finishes.

"Oh," Dawson doesn't know what to say.

"Mallory," Marc shakes his head in disbelief, "I like mayonnaise as much as the next guy, but that is a bad mayo."

"Huh, well," Mallory holds a finger to her chin, looking up at the sky, "I think it's good, yeah, but it is a bad mayo for sure.  That's the kind of thing I really love.  Plus, if all the food I eat is disgusting to other people, then I never have to worry about my lunch getting stolen when I one day work in a soul-sucking office job."

"Remind me never to let you cook for me," Chris mutters.

"Come on, Christopher," Mallory scoffs, "Like I'd ever cook for you anyway.  I can barely cook for myself.  Cereal is too much cooking for me most mornings, and that doesn't even involve heating anything up.  Just putting it together."

"You can cook pancakes," John adds in, unhelpful.

"Just because I can doesn't mean I want to," Mallory answers, putting her hands back behind her head, "It's not like food is even all that great, really.  I just eat to sustain myself, or just because the food happens to be there... Unlike you and Dad, John.  You gluttons."

"I eat fruit," Marc adds in his two cents, useless as they are, "That's about all that I eat for the sake of eating, otherwise, yeah, food's not like an amazing experience or anything weird like that."

"I can't even believe I'm friends with you right now," John shakes his head, holding two fingers up to his own temple as he sighs, "I mean, honestly.  Food is an art form, people!  It's tied in with culture, climate, and all sorts of things like that.  You really should enjoy food!  It has so much personality!"

"I do enjoy it," Mallory shrugs, "But I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep if I had to go a month eating nothing but ration-bars, or cardboard."

"Mallory..." Tina starts, raising her eyebrows with a coy smirk, "You like the taste of ration-bars, don't you?"

Mallory turns red at this statement, whirling on Tina with her cheeks puffed out, "No, of course not!  Nobody likes the chalky texture and near-tastelessness of ration bars!"

"Sounds to me like you're praising them for those facts," Tina waved a finger in front of herself, "Come on, you need to be honest with me, and with yourself.  Embrace your love of the blandest food mankind has ever created and admit that the only reason you'd be okay with spending a month on them is because you secretly love them."

"I dug this grave for myself by saying how much I like terrible foods," Mallory groans, backing off with a slump of her shoulders, "Yes, you're right.  Unfortunately, I do enjoy the lack of flavor that ration-bars offer.  That doesn't change my statement, though.  I don't think delicious food is a necessity to enjoy life."

"Yeah, me neither," Dawson agrees with her, and Tina resists the urge to kick his shin with the lies he's telling, "In fact, I'll even eat foods that I hate.  It's just to stay alive anyway, so why does taste exist?"

"Well, on second thought," Mallory notes, "Food is actually pretty cool.  The fact that different people can taste things differently and appreciate or hate them is kind of fascinating, even if I don't think that tasting good things is all that important to happiness...  I still don't want to eat foods that are disgusting, like strawberries."

"Who doesn't like strawberries?" Dawson questions.

"Me," Mallory gives her answer in a matter-of-fact way, without any hesitation, "I like other fruit, but strawberries and strawberry flavored things just make me gag.  I won't ever eat another strawberry if I can help it."

"Hey," Chris butts into the conversation, pointing behind himself, "Yo, everybody.  Come on.  Let's turn right here."

"But that's not the way to Myna Beach..." John says, looking around and trying to figure out why Chris is acting so strange.  Unfortunately, they aren't able to react in time due to confusion, and a voice that the majority of them aren't fond of hearing speaks up behind them.

"Ah, Marc.  Where are you and your friends off to dressed like that?" Joe Fitson had been walking back from the store on the opposite side of the street, and crossed to speak with the group, "Isn't the weather a bit off for swimming?"

"The temperature's fine, even if it's a little cloudy.  It doesn't look like it will rain today," Marc answers, looking up at the sky, "So we're going to Myna Beach for a bit.  Oh, these are Chris's cousins, by the way."

"...Charmed," Joe notes, keeping his attention on his son, "And you're sure that swimming is all you're doing?"

"What else would we be doing, going on an expedition to find some hotsprings to take a dip in?" Mallory involves herself, hands on her hips, "We're wearing swimsuits.  What could possibly be suspicious about that?"

"You could be going to a party," Joe answers, waving his hand in the air next to himself, "A degnerate party with somebody who owns a hot tub... Like, say, Evan Temmer?"

John freezes up at the mention of that name and steps forward, almost protective of Marc, "We don't talk to Evan anymore and you know it, Joe."

"I don't know anything," Joe responds, clenching his fists, "And you should watch your tone, John Shingle.  My son has kept secrets from me before and I'm right to worry that he'll do it again, so forgive me if I don't believe that a gaggle of teenagers aren't up to no good."

"Dad," Marc glares at him, "We really are just going swimming.  Chris is on the swim team, remember?  Swimming is too important to him for it to be used as an excuse."

"I guess there's nothing I can do based on suspicion," Joe sighs, and throws his hands up as he turns back around, "Whatever.  Don't say I didn't warn you if you do something stupid. and face the consequences for it."

With that, Joe Fitson leaves the group behind.  There's silence for a while before Tina speaks up, "Who's Evan Temmer?"

"Evan's a kid in my grade, likes acting as if he's older than he is.  He's pretty rich, so he's pretty popular," John answers, folding his arms over his chest, "We used to hang out with him a lot, but he... Well, he turned out to be a little bit of an asshole.  I guess rich guys sometimes are, right?"

Marc hesitates, but does add in an explanation of his own, "I dunno if he was really trying to be an asshole, though.  He just didn't know how to take no for an answer, in certain situations.  Truth is, when he asked me out I might have said sure, let's give it a shot, if not for my dad."

"Of course," Mallory steps in, "Word travels fast in a small town like this one, you know?  Even though Marc turned him down, Evan spread a rumor that they were dating.  Joe freaked out, and we had to come up with some story about us all hating Evan now just to get him to lay off Marc a little bit.  You can probably tell he didn't lay off much."

"Goddamn," Dawson shakes his head in a dismissive fashion, "What the Hell was that about?  Gay people just don't have any sense of boundaries, huh?"

"We're still friends with Evan.  We just don't hang out outside of school anymore, because he pulled that one dick move, and now Joe'll be up all our asses if he sees us in the same place," Marc wrinkles his nose at Dawson, "It has nothing to do with his sexuality, and that was just one boundary that he admits he fucked up on."

"It's straight guys who don't know what boundaries are," Chris jokes, "So I've heard, anyway.  I guess anyone can cross the line, but every rumor has a reason."

"If some guy did that to me, I'd beat his ass," Dawson puts his hands behind his head, "You can do what you want, I guess, but don't expect me to meet this Evan guy.  As far as I'm concerned, anyone who'd pull that is a huge tool.  Telling someone you're dating a person when you're not?  Who would do that?"

"Dawson," Tina mutters, trying to communicate that he ought to stop talking without making it seem as if she's outright defying him.

"Look, Dawson," Chris stops walking as his feet touch the pebbles of Myna Beach, "I dunno what you're hearing from anyone, but if you're going to hang out with me and my friends, you have to be a little bit nicer than that.  Evan's a good guy, and I hear enough trash talk about him from Joe.  I don't need to hear you ragging on my friend, too."

"Even assholes deserve a second chance," John doesn't seem quite as forgiving as the others, but he's got a light tone as he says this, "Really, as long as they're trying to get better, assholes need friends to encourage them to change."

Dawson looks between everyone, then huffs through his nose as he walks away down the beach, leaving the rest of the group behind.  Nobody bothers to try going after him, or even calling out for him to calm down.  Eventually, Mallory turns to Tina, "Your brother is kind of a dick, no offense."

"None taken," Tina shrugs, "He is."

"Though... Even assholes deserve a second chance?" Mallory questions, looking to John.  He shakes his head at her, but she puts both hands on her hips and separates her legs in a determined stance, "There's gotta be something worth somebody's time in that guy, and I'll find it.  Well, not like I think he'll be worth my time, but somebody's, you know?"

"I wouldn't recommend that," Tina says, and everyone else agrees with her.  Chris, too, isn't especially fond of his emotionally maladjusted cousin.  It's beginning to seem like nobody does, but that can't be true.  Dawson has plenty of friends at school.  Maybe somehow, some types of people are drawn to someone as absurdly crude as Dawson Packard.

"Come on.  What's the worst that could happen?" Mallory asks, then wanders down the beach towards the water, "Anyway, Chris.  I'll race you.  Ready to stomp me?"

"Always," Chris jokes back, dashing down to stand next to her, waves lapping up at their toes.  John runs forward as well to cheer his sister on, leaving Marc and Tina standing at the head of the beach, looking down.

Marc looks to Tina, then speaks up, quiet, "You should stay here."

"What?" Tina questions, eyes wide as she turns to look back at him, "I don't- Why?"

Marc shrugs, "Because you're fitting in with us?  I feel like you'd be better off here than back in New Mexico."

"Huh," Tina hesitates, bringing her arms up around herself, "Well, maybe you're right, but... I wouldn't make you deal with Dawson any longer than you need to.  Seems like nobody's getting along great with him."

"I'm not saying Dawson should stay here.  I'm saying you should," Marc steps closer to Tina and reaches out, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I'm pretty sure that Chris's family would let you stay with them.  If they wouldn't, then I know for a fact that Jacob; I mean, Mr. Shingle, would."

Tina chuckles a bit, "You know John and Mallory's Dad well enough that you call him by his first name?"

"Nah, he's just one of those types of dads who says you should call him by his first name.  Everyone calls my dad Joe because they hate him and it's disrespectful, but Jacob's always just trying to be the cool dad," Marc explains, "I guess it kind of works?  As much as a police officer can be the cool dad, anyway.  He's trying his best."

TIna nods before she speaks again, "He sounds nice.  Well, that explains why John and Mallory are such sweethearts..."

"Yeah, they were actually raised well," Marc agrees with a small laugh, "I mean, if you ignore all the snark, those two are some of the nicest people I've ever met.  Mallory's even saying she'd give Dawson a chance to prove he's not as obnoxious as his first impression?  That takes a certain type of person for sure."

"Heh.  Yeah, that's saying something," Tina admits, "Maybe it's shitty for me to say this about my own brother, but I don't think that there's anything there for Mallory to find.  He's... Well, he's probably a walking trash bag.  I don't mean that as an insult, I mean it as, there's not any good there.  And a trash bag could have been filled up with something to donate to charity or something, but he just got garbage."

"You think that he could have been better?" Marc asks, not seeming at all put-off by Tina's terminology.  Despite it being rude and a bit cruel, he just finds himself agreeing with what she says.

"I dunno.  Maybe.  I guess there's still time, he could mature some more," Tina says, "He could end up being a better person.  And he probably could have been better from the start if we weren't left alone all of the time... Well, I'm just thinking about things which aren't true right now.  It's pretty pointless to think about what-ifs like that.  And Hell, maybe he really isn't as bad as I think."

"You're defending him now?" Marc asks, and Tina just shrugs in response.  He scoffs, "Don't.  Just... Don't bother, okay?  I didn't like the guy from the moment I met him, so obviously, there's something about him that's really unlikable.  You don't need to stand up for a guy like that just to try and sound like you're a better person for not hating him.  You're allowed to dislike people.  Even if they are related to you..." He hisses, scratching the back of his neck as he looks away.

Tina leans to look at his face, "So you don't get along with your father too well, huh?  I mean, he really seems like kind of a dick."

"He is," Marc groans, dropping his arm to his side, "My dad's... Well, he's just the kind of guy who's way too proud of having a son?  You know, he's always encouraging me to be more masculine and shit like that.  It's pretty goddamn lame."

"I know someone like that," TIna suddenly recalls, "Back in New Mexico.  Her name's Anna, and she's really obsessive over having a daughter.  She makes her dress up all the time, makes her act especially girly.  And in a way my friend appreciates that, but it can also be annoying to have somebody putting such specific expectations on you..." Tina thinks for a moment, "I guess, even I've experienced having expectations put on me, but I can handle them.  I like having an idealized version of myself to strive for."

"I don't," Marc says, "I don't like having people expect anything of me.  Makes me feel like I don't have room to grow or change... Like I just gotta stick to a mold, you feel?"

"I get it," Tina agrees, and she does.  She can see it in him, the effects of growing up like that.  The entire group is at the age when they begin to develop a real sense of self-questioning and identity, and it can be suffocating to start having those thoughts in a situation where one has always been willing and ready to let their identity be shaped by someone else.

---

Jacob Shingle likes to think of himself as a good man.  At least, that's what he tries to be.  It's not like he has any scale to measure himself against, and he's certainly made his own fair share of mistakes in his lifetime, but he still holds onto the idea that he's a good person.  He is a good person.

Jacob has two children, and he lives with the two of them in a somewhat nice two-story house.  He's never left his hometown of Mesteri because he has a stable job and the real estate market here is absolute garbage, which for anyone looking to afford a home, is great news.  The island's inconvenient and lacking in jobs, has been since shortly after the conclusion of World War II.  It's a dying town, but he calls it home, and he doubts he'll ever leave.  This is where he'd hoped to build a future with his wife.

Even with her gone, he doesn't want to leave that idea behind.

John, the elder of his two children, is fifteen now.  He seems to keep to himself for the most part, and unlike most parents, Jacob is glad for that.  Fifteen was how hold he himself was when John was born, and though he doesn't regret the outcome of that ordeal, he wouldn't wish the experience on anyone but his worst enemy.  It was hard to deal with all the guilt and scorn at the time, but he and Adelaide had worked through it enough that she was already pregnant with Mallory by the time the pair was graduating.

There was just that much love between them.  It's been eleven years now since she died, not soon after Mallory was born.  At least John has a few fond memories.  It's been over a decade, and Jacob knows that he'll never truly be over her.  Nonetheless, he keeps moving forward.  It's a very important thing to do, he's well aware.  Jacob has to be there for his children, and even when he was still in active mourning, he's always made sure to put them first.

His career choice is even linked to his children, in a way.  He became a police officer because there's a shortage of them in Mesteri, and an abundance of crimes that go utterly unnoticed.  Having been a teen himself not too terribly long ago, Jacob's work with the police sometimes makes it seem like he's the only one who's really trying to keep the kids safe.  There's juvenile crime all over, and in a town such that everyone knows everyone, anyone who knows their neighbor's doing something illegal will probably keep quiet out of fear for their own secrets being revealed.

Jacob doesn't have those qualms, though.  He doesn't have secrets at all; It isn't that only his nearby neighbors have a grasp on the more unsavory aspects of his life, but his secrets were already all up on display in the past.  Perhaps now that his kids are reaching the point where they're transitioning from children to adults, he'll have to be a little more concerned, but for the time being he's happy to keep tabs on everyone and act on anything which is truly unsavory.

At least, as much as he's able to learn about.  People are more careful with their gossip around a police officer, so he doesn't hear as much as other people might.  He knows enough, though, and he's busted several people with this tactic in his career.  He has a deep-seated desire to bring due legal process to anyone who needs it, especially the worst type of people in the world who always seem to fly under the radar in towns like this one.

There's still a shortage of police, even compared to the town's population, but Jacob likes to feel that he's making some small difference to that situation.  Obviously, he's not about to single-handedly stop all crime in Mesteri, but he can certainly work to make sure that he stops everything he can.

A comfort to him is that recently, his children have made another friend.  They're both very kind kids, but they have sarcastic streaks and introverted hobbies that keep them from being too sociable.  Their friend Chris introduced them to his own childhood friend, and Jacob's glad for that.  Deborah Fitson is a lovely, compassionate woman.  She's a bit flighty and forgetful, but she has her own fair share of talents.

Joe, meanwhile... Jacob can't say that he's fond of Joe Fitson, the few times that they've met.  It could be that it's only a reflection of his offense at meeting such a brazen homophobe with his own bisexuality in mind, but that man definitely rubs him the wrong way.  It's a wonder that somebody as kindhearted as Deborah wound up with a guy like that, but Jacob can't presume to know how they got together.

It's a strange family, he thinks.  Not that they're especially odd in any measurable way, but he just can't understand what they're doing in Mesteri.  He knows that they moved to town before Marc was born, but they bought quite a nice house, and a nice car, and Joe's income is certainly enough that they could have settled down to start a family in someplace nicer than this.

Especially considering that they moved here from Kansas.  It would be one thing to want to get out of Seattle, away from the city to have a child in a quiet town, and there's a variety of options for housing here that would give them the benefit of picking and choosing for individual features in a home... But it wasn't like most of the midwest wasn't in the same position.  There were plenty of great homes for raising a family in those states.  Really, it doesn't make sense for anybody to move here from that far away.

As far as he knows, they don't even have any family in this area.  That's the most confusing part.  Well, he doesn't have time to dwell on that sort of thing today.  He's visiting his mother to help her with some housework projects; Hanging some framed puzzles that she's recently finished putting together, fixing a leak in the roof.  Jacob always spends his days off in one of two ways; Doing something fun with his children, or finding something else to busy himself with.

He doesn't like to be bored, and there aren't a ton of televisions shows which interest him in a particular amount, so he finds himself with strange hobbies.  When he's not messing around his own home or helping his mother at hers, he enjoys baking and putting together model vehicles.  Planes, boats, whatever kits he can buy for cheap that he thinks will look good on shelves around the house.  He finds it funny that he's ended up with such a stereotypical dad hobby, but it does help give the house some life that it wouldn't have otherwise.

He's still a single dad after all, and though he makes good enough money, it's not so much that he can splurge on real decor for the house.  Any extra money he ends up with goes toward his children, because he had a great childhood right up until he screwed it all up for himself.  He wants to give his kids the world, or at least their own pleasant childhood where he can.

Checkboxes Chapter Twelve

<-Previous Chapter

<--------First Chapter

Fucko promised yesterday that it would give me answers soon, and I suppose I'm enough of a wet noodle to allow that to placate me for the time being.  I don't feel bitter about it, though.  Not in the least bit, which may seem strange, but it's good enough for now just to be assured that there are answers for me, even if I can't be provided with them yet.  It's like wondering if you'll be receiving a birthday gift, and then being assured that there is one on the way, but the shipping's been delayed so it will arrive a little late.  In the meantime, I just need to listen to what it decides I should do next.  Today is Tuesday, so I won't be able to talk to anybody in the Light Music Club after school.  

I know that Fucko will tell me who I'm supposed to be talking to, but I can't help but try and figure out who it could be each day that I'm supposed to have a conversation with.  I have to assume it's somebody I haven't talked to much yet, so maybe one of the other members of the occult club...

Wrong.

I don't need this.

Anyway, the real situation is this.  At lunch, you should speak with Maka Nishikikouji, then after school you'll want to have a conversation with Shizuka Inbo.

Oh, Maka.  We haven't talked much yet, just a few passing words on the school trip and when she was in the science room yesterday.  I'm sure Fucko won't give me direction on where she eats her lunches, so I decide to go searching for her instead and find that she's sitting under a tree in the courtyard, eating french-fries out of a takeout box with chopsticks.  I walk up to her and crouch down, then sit cross-legged a few inches from the ends of her feet.  She sets her chopsticks down and pulls her mask back up over her face from around her neck before she speaks, "Ah, hello, Hako-chan... What brings you here?"

"I just want to have a conversation," I shrug, pulling out my own lunch from my bag.  It's leftovers from last night's dinner.  Rice and grilled chicken were good warm with fresh vegetables, but I mixed in some seaweed salad to have it cold today, "Is that okay?  You can keep eating.  It's fine if I see you without the mask on, right?"

"It's rude..." Maka mumbles, then startles in place and waves a hand around as she corrects herself, "Rude to you, not rude to me!  The mask is a symbol that I stand for protecting the girls of this town, you included, so to remove it in your presence feels like I'm saying that I don't intend to protect you, which isn't the case at all..."

"Is that why when we all ate together the first day in Kyoto, you all kept your masks on?  I thought you were just scared of city germs," I note.

"Nope," Maka shakes her head, "It was out of respect for you and Shorty-chan."

"I see Kaiba-san's nickname rubbed off on you," I chuckle, feeling a bit bad for Sayaka.  I am glad that Kaiba doesn't know me well enough to come up with an embarrassing nickname for me, but then again, Sayaka didn't seem too bothered by it.  It's all in good fun, it seems, "I don't need protecting, though, so it's fine.  You can eat with convenience instead!" I lean towards her, 'Why are you eating fries with chopsticks, though?"

"Oh, that's simple," Maka answers, lowering her mask at my permission, then holds up her right hand, "I grew up in a place that taught me the left hand is unclean, and it's kind of ingrained.  I'm left-handed though, and the first knuckles on my right hand don't move.  All I can do is flex the fingers themselves and move my thumb, I can't do anything like make a fist or do fine-motor tasks.  Picking up finger food is impossible, too, so I just use utensils.  They exist to be used, after all, I may as well use them even if it's for a less conventional purpose."

"That makes sense," I agree, starting to eat my own lunch, "Where did you get that, anyway?  I didn't think there was any western takeout in town."

Maka glances at the bag, and I note that there's not even a logo yet, it's just a brown paper bag, "It's a new place. I heard about it, and decided to try it.  Here, try some!  I think it's pretty good, though I'm not exactly a meat connoisseur."

"That is good!" I am not a meat connoisseur either, though.  In fact, I am not a connoisseur of anything, "I bet everyone here would be happy to hear a place like that's opened up in Korekara, you should spread the word!" 

"I wish I could," She shrugs, stretching out, "But, you know, I don't have a lot of presence at all.  It's hard to get anyone to pay attention to me in the first place. I think you're actually the only person outside of No Boys who has ever acknowledged me.  It's a shame... I even do my best to stand out.  I dyed my hair, and I tie my neckerchief, and I wear yellow shoes.  None of that seems to get me noticed, though.  Kaiba-kun says it's a skill, and I guess it is, but I would still prefer to have a different skill than natural stealth, maybe?"

I shrug, "It happens.  People end up in situations that aren't preferable all the time, but you know, I do think that it's important that you find a way to use your talent for a good cause.  If you have a unique ability, something that most people need to learn to do but that you're naturally good at?  Use it to help people, then do what you really love to do for yourself."

"Are you in a situation which isn't preferable?" She questions, and I freeze.  Am I?  Would I prefer to be anything other than following Fucko's instructions?  I guess it depends.  Somebody would need to be doing what I am, instead.  I'm using my talent to help people just the same as I just told Maka to do, and I'm proud of myself for it.  It's still strange to think what I'd be doing if this burden belonged to somebody else instead.  Probably just sticking to Amai all the time, like when we were little kids.  Or, if I'd never been in a coma, with her and Hiromi and Sayuri.  It's for the better, though, that we went our separate ways, so I'm not even sure now that I'd want that change.

"No," I answer, and it's the truth.  My situation is preferable.  I wouldn't want to have any other responsibility than this.  I wouldn't want to be anyone else but me; and having a different experience would have made me a different person than I am right now.  I'll let time take its course to decide who I'm going to be, and I won't change that.

That same fate which seems to desire the deaths of all your friends?

I wouldn't mind if somebody else changed my fate.  And I'll change the fate of others, too.  I would never do anything, though, to try and alter the path I'm supposed to take as a person.  And it really does feel like the path I'm meant to take, at least for now, is the one that Fucko's leading me down.

----------------

After school, I set about looking for Shizuka, as I was instructed to speak with her today.  She isn't anywhere I'd expect her to be, though.  Nowhere to be found, even, when I start looking in the places that I would not expect her to be.  How am I supposed to follow my instructions if the girl I need to speak with is not around?  Nobody's even seen her that I ask, so I decide to ask Kemuri.  She'll know if Shizuka left the campus, anyway, though I'm not sure how I'm supposed to speak with her if she's not even around.  Unfortunately, even she has no clue where Shizuka could be.  I'm thinking about giving up, since Fucko's once again giving me the 'telling you the details would break the rules' schtick.  I don't understand how the rules are more important than me actually completing my goal, though.  I sigh and sit down against the wall in the hallway.

"Hako-san?" Somebody questions, and I look up to see Iwako standing over me.  She's standing as if somebody taped a ragdoll to a stick, in contrast to her usual sharp posture.  I guess she's not trying to be intimidating right now, "What are you doing here?  Are you waiting for somebody?"

"No, I was looking for Inbo-chan, but nobody's seen her today.  Doctor, do you know where she is?" I question, standing up to look her in the eyes with my hands behind my back.  She only holds eye contact for a moment before glancing away.

"I-Inbo-san...?" She stutters.  I never took the doctor for the type of woman to stutter.

"Yeah," I nod, "Shizuka Inbo.  I guess I can't just assume you know who everybody in the school is though, huh?"

She pauses a moment, taking one deep breath before she answers me, "I do know who Shizuka Inbo is.  She's not the first in her family to attend this school, however.  I'm sorry, I was remembering her elder sister..."

"Oh, her sister attended?" I ask, pushing against the ground to get to my feet, brushing the dust off the front of my skirt.

Iwako hesitates, then gestures for me to follow her, turning back around to enter the infirmary again.  She unlocks it, her movements slow and unrefined.  This seems very unlike her.  I follow her into the infirmary, and she closes the door behind us, then just throws the key onto her desk.  She pushes her glasses up her nose before she speaks again, "I can trust you, right?"

"I'd like to think I'm trustworthy," I answer.

"It isn't a matter of you being trustworthy," Iwako shakes her head, "It's a matter of me being able to trust you.  There's a big difference there.  I know you're trustworthy, but I also know that you're talking to a lot of people.  I don't know if you would keep quiet if you learned of a crime."

"I definitely would.  I have, so far," I nod, "I would never tell the police about a crime.  Usually crimes aren't that bad.  When they are bad, it's better to leave things to the vigilantes.  Incarceration rates may be high in this country for people who go on trial, but indicting can be a problem for a lot of the things which I think are actually terrible to do."

"In that case, I suppose I can tell you.  You've been informed of Yui Asahi, and the rest of her graduating class, yes?" Iwako asks, and I nod, so she continues, "Inbo-san's elder sister was in that class.  She was a nice girl, but everything was so chaotic for that class.  Sasane... Well, Ikimura-sensei, she wasn't assigned to that class that year.  The english teacher at that point was a woman named Mercury Mars.  We thought she was trustworthy, but it seemed she engineered the downfall of that class, since she disappeared shortly after Asahi-san's death.  Meiko Inbo was one of that year's innocent victims."

"Oh..." I mumble, shifting between my feet, "So it's because of that teacher, what happened to them that year?"

Iwako shrugs, "We never could have known that.  We only suspect her because she disappeared without a trace in the end of it all.  Everyone said she was a good teacher, they liked her.  I guess we're only even pinning it on her because we don't want to believe that everything would have happened without her there.  The public release blames Yui Asahi, though, because... We didn't want to admit that we'd made a mistake in our hiring process."

"Some people think that it's a conspiracy," I note.

"I don't blame them, it's pretty conspiratory," Iwako gives a bitter chuckle, "Meiko was murdered by one of her classmates, and Mars-san brought her to me in a panic.  I wasn't able to save her... So I killed her killer.  I contributed to the loss of that class.  It was this day two years ago, that Meiko died.  So, I sent Inbo-san home early.  She came to me looking for advice on her mental health, and all I could do for her was tell her to go back to her house and rest."

"Doctor," I ask, taking a step towards her, "Can you tell me more about the class of 2015?"

"I can't," Iwako shakes her head, "I wish that I could, but there's more important things for you to be worrying about right now.  I'm sure you'll find out more about them someday in the future, but I'm sure you have things to focus on.  Oh, you wanted to speak with Inbo-san, right?" She turns to her desk and scribbles something out on a scrap of paper.  Her handwriting is awful.  She hands me the paper, "Her address, assuming she didn't go back to her family home."

"Thank you, Doctor," I nod, then look down at the paper.  I should have expected that Shizuka doesn't live in one of the dorms, given she comes from such a rich family.  I recognize the street name, though, so I get going.  It's still close enough to the school to walk, though it may take me a while.  Half an hour of walking at a brisk pace, a while, it turns out, but I find myself in front of her home.  It's quite large, but not as big as I expected it to be.  I knock the door, and I don't get an answer, but it swings open.  I frown and step inside, even though that's probably a bit rude of me to do.  I don't see her anywhere.

Just investigate, it should be fine.

I think it's weird to just wander around somebody's house, uninvited, trying to find them... But I'll do as Fucko says.  It turns out that though the house is large, the rooms are not; the first floor consists of a fairly normal layout, with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and empty bedroom which I'm assuming is the one that Shizuka uses.  Upstairs, however, just seems to be made up entirely of small rooms off of branching hallways, each one with a different theme.  They don't appear lived in at all, more like photographs of fake houses used to advertise things in catalogs.  As I'm searching through all of these different rooms, I eventually stumble across the one that Shizuka's actually in, though I don't say anything after opening the door.  She seems to be on camera right now, which makes sense.  I know she makes gaming videos and streams.  The room is themed like an ultra-cute kitchen, and it looks like she's playing a cooking-themed game.

So I now understand the nature of all of these rooms.  She's really dedicated to her gaming channel, it seems.  I like seeing that; it's a nice reminder, when I'm trying my best to help everyone through their traumas, that everyone is also working hard at those talents which they all have.  That's what Natsuki was saying to me yesterday.  Everyone here is recognized for excellence, but there are still, for some reason, dangers.

As talented as everyone at Korekara is, that excellence had no future for them before being invited here.  As long as the faculty can twist it around when releasing information to the media, there's nothing to be done but accept it.  It's survival of the fittest.  We fail, then we die.  We succeed, then we go on to rise above the rest.  It's a test of youth.  Even with the declining birthrate, nobody really wants anyone who's incapable of contributing society to continue living here, even if they say they're better than that.

I understand it, now, but I won't fight it.  I'll go with the flow, honestly, because I'm the same as everyone else.  I don't want anybody to die.  But were I told that somebody did something self-destructive and died because of it, and that a certain place just gathers up the people who'd do that kind of thing, I wouldn't blame the place which gathered them.  I'd feel bad, and wish it didn't happen, but being told that it's someone's own fault, what sort of outrage could I muster?  Even when I might be targeted by this same type of media manipulation someday, I'm not angry at all.

Ten minutes later, after I've gone to wait in the hallway, Shizuka walks out of the recording room and sits down next to where I'd slid down to sit on the floor.  Neither of us say anything for a while, until she speaks up, playing with her hands in front of herself, "Hako-senpai.  Why did you come here?"

"I was looking for you after school today," I shrug, "Then Same-Hakase told me this was the anniversary of when your sister died at Korekara two years ago, and gave me your address."

"Meiko..." Shizuka sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "We were going to share this house, before that happened..."

I have to take time to think before I speak again.  I want to avoid being disrespectful, "Why did you decide to attend Korekara after it killed your sister?"

"Korekara Academy didn't kill Meiko," Shizuka answers with a shake of her head, "How could you blame the school for what happened to her, when it was just one student?"

"That's what everybody does," I note, "Korekara Academy is dangerous, that's the opinion."

"Everywhere is dangerous," Shizuka mumbles, crossing her legs, "The whole world is just full up with danger, and there's nothing to be done about that.  Just because certain places get a reputation... That doesn't mean they really are any more dangerous than others.  It just means that the truth has been made clearer there.  Meiko could have been killed just as easily while on a train, or in our own family home.  So of course I won't blame Korekara Academy.  Anyone who does is an idiot."

I stay quiet for a while longer again, sitting on my hands.  Trying to explain the way that I feel about our school, "Well, of course it's not the school itself, but I hear things.  People think the faculty have a hand in it all."

"I don't care if they do," Shizuka answers, glaring at the far wall, "I don't.  I blame only the person who killed Meiko, and she's dead too.  It's closure, I have closure.  I'm not going to open myself up to other possibilities when I'm already content in what I have.  Of course I'm still grieving!  Anybody would," She hisses, then returns her tone to a mellow one, "Why would you bother theorizing that more people are against you than probably are?"

Shizuka has a good point, and it's one that I haven't heard before.  Now that I think about it, it's probably important that she disregard conspiracy theories and worst case scenarios, as somebody whose made a name for herself on the internet.  So many people look to her for entertainment, so many people looking to criticize her every move.  It goes beyond the raw skill she needs to play games well on stream, she also has to give them charisma and a collected appearance.  To let herself think for even a moment that the people she works so hard for might be after her head, I can only imagine that would be unbearable.  

That definitely provides some perspective to the idea that ignorance is bliss.  That saying always seemed strange to me before, but I can understand it as it relates to this particular situation.  Maybe that's why Amai is always talking about how weird things are common knowledge.  She'd rather be ignorant and blissful than admit that something's wrong.

"Anyway," Shizuka starts again, eventually, as she stands up, "Since you're here anyway, I guess I may as well make two portions for dinner..."

"Oh, it's fine, you don't have to!" I'd hate to impose, "My parents actually live in Korekara too, so I can always eat dinner with them.  I did show up unannounced at your house and just walked in and went searching for you.  I think I've caused you quite enough trouble for one day."

"Trouble?  I mean, I have to cook my own food anyway.  The least you could do to make all that up to me is let me actually be a good host for once in my life," She rolls her eyes, then holds a hand out to me.  I take it and stand up, then she goes downstairs to the real kitchen rather than the prop one, and I follow.

"So what game were you playing?" I ask, deciding to make small talk now that the heavy topic's out of the way.  I still don't know quite what Shizuka's real reason for being invited to this school is, it can't be a result of Meiko's death given they were planning to live together when Shizuka arrived.  My earlier decision still stands, though.  I won't press her on the matter, because she has better friends to open up to.

"Huh?  Oh, I set up my wii in there.  I was working on one-hundred-percent completion on Cooking Mama.  I guess that's not really an impressive game, but I think after completing a no-deaths stream of Dark Souls I deserve to play something a little less hardcore," She shrugs, opening up the fridge, "Is it fine if I make pasta primavera?  I have a lot of vegetables I need to use before they rot."

"Sounds good to me," I nod, "I mean, you're being nice enough to offer me dinner, you don't have to ask me what I'd like... Make what you want to, and I'll eat it."

"Pasta Primavera indeed," She decides, pulling out several bell peppers and cherry tomatoes from her fridge.  Most grocery stores outside of metropolitan centers only carry produce in season, so I'm a little surprised to hear that she's got two vegetables whose seasons are decidedly not October.  I guess when you're rich you can get any type of food you want anytime, no matter where you live.

Shizuka's food is good, though obviously not mind-blowing like Amai's is.  That's only to be expected, since her talent is video gaming and she isn't even in the cooking club.  It's still pretty great, and I would almost say it's unfair that she actually has two talents, but she's just so much better at the one she was admitted for that I wouldn't call them comparable.

Either way, her food's better than either of my parents', and way better than anything I could do myself, given that I learned almost nothing spending my first year in the cooking club.  I really was mostly just in it to spend time with Amai.  I'd have joined it again when I got back, probably, if not for Fucko's instruction to aid at the infirmary.

I'm glad that I am the infirmary aid, though.  Iwako is actually nice, at least to me, and she seems to have information about the class who all died.  I also get the feeling that she knows what Fucko and I are trying to do, since when I started asking about that class she told me that I have more important things to worry about right now.  I guess she's right about that.

---------

"Apollo, come in," The communicator inside my ear buzzes with those words, waking me from sleep.  I sit up and rub my eyes.

"Apollo here.  Roxie?" It could be any number of a few different people, but I'm pretty sure I recognize her voice, "What do you want?"

"Don't be rude," She continues.  I stand up and wander around the room, pacing despite the fact that I've been advised against moving around too much for the time being.  Something about it wearing away on my joints until later on.  I can't say that worries me much, though, and talking on the phone while sitting still just feels very tedious, "Do I have to want anything to contact you?"

I freeze where I stand, then deadpan, "Yes."

"Well, I don't," Roxie says, shocking me, "I don't need anything from you, I just wanted to update you on the situation.  Everything is proceeding just the way that Fucko wants, though the subject is beginning to become curious about unrelated matters, such as how the AI knows what needs to be done, or what happened to the class of 2015.  You still have some influence, right?  Do you think you could push her back on track?"

"Influence or no influence, it's impossible to change what she thinks.  Now, why is it a problem if she wonders about those things?  Is the control function broken?" I question, tapping my fingers on a desk as I lean against it, "I thought I witnessed it working just yesterday."

"Witnessed?" Roxie questions.

"This is what happens when you don't check in, Roxie, you don't even know what sort of options I have at my disposal.  This whole place is wired with security cameras.  Collaboration between Kira and the club," I can't help but taunt her as I power up the monitors again, just to check them.  I don't expect to see anything but Sakazaki and Yamiko around the school grounds in the middle of the night, but I may as well have a look around, "Very useful asset, as long as we don't let it fall into the wrong hands.  Lucky for us, Sakazaki Yuu is the only possible leak, and our esteemed president has her under control."

"Are you sure that Kira's not the wrong hands?" Roxie asks, and I think about that for a moment.  Well, we couldn't have gotten these set up without permission from the headmaster, so it's not like that's even a relevant part of the equation.  Roxie continues speaking, though, "And isn't it very suspicious for you to be spying on an all-girls' school like this, Apollo?"

"As a man, yes.  As me, Apollo, no.  As men go I'm not exactly on the scale of likely to peek at the girls' locker rooms," Just as I say this, I notice something on one of the screens.  That's... Odd.  I expand it to the full monitor rather than just the quarter it was taking up to get a better look, and just as I was worried, there's somebody standing in the middle of the courtyard, wading in the fountain, "Hey, Roxie?  Any info on an unidentified student who stands in the fountain on this night?"

"You know where I get my data, right?  What possible reason could she have ever had to witness this?" Roxie questions, and I realize that she's right.  This is a variable we couldn't have possibly predicted, and unknown variables have a habit of throwing things off.  I realize what I have to do.  There's only one option, I can't go investigate it myself.  I have to outsource.

"Roxie, I'm gonna have to call you back," I say, then hang up on her before making another call.

"...Hello?" Sakazaki questions, answering without a hint of grogginess.  It's nearly two in the morning, she should be asleep.  Then again, she is a disaster.  I'm pretty sure she's been drinking from the pitch of her voice, but I can just hope it's been a light beer night rather than any heavier liquor.

"Yuu-senpai," I refer to her with respect despite not technically being her underclassman.  I'm still younger than her, "It's Apollo.  We've met once before.  I need you to take on a mission for me."

"A mission?" She questions.  Good, I've piqued her interest.

"In the courtyard right now, there's a girl wearing the Korekara uniform who has waded into the fountain at the center.  I can't make out her identity.  Think you could find that out for me?"

"Can do, Apollo sir!" Sakazaki agrees, and stays on the line as she makes her way out to the courtyard.  I watch her on the cameras, though I keep my focus on the courtyard camera.  The girl standing in the fountain hasn't moved.  Sakazaki arrives in the courtyard, then approaches the fountain.  Since the only way to identify the girl is to see her face, and to do so would require shining a flashlight at her, Sakazaki doesn't bother to be stealthy.  She moves to the edge of the fountain then calls out, "Hey, you!  What's the big idea?" The girl in the fountain turns to face her, and she exclaims immediately, "T-Tomoe-chan!?"

"Saka...zaki..." I can hear Tomoe through the communicator as she steps toward the wall of the fountain, reaching out, "Please, don't make us... go back there..."

"Us?" Sakazaki asks a clarifying question, and on the  screen I can see another silhouette behind her.  The frame is human, but the slow, creeping movements like a cat stalking its prey.  Animal and unnatural.  I act on instinct.

"Yuu!" I shout, "Get out of there, now!"

"H-Huh?" She questions, then Tomoe grabs for her wrist.  She avoids it and starts running, only for both of them to chase after her.  Tomoe's legs hardly seem to be moving, but she's keeping up with the other's savage movements.  As she's running, Sakazaki yells back at me, "It's Tomoe and Nami, but... it's not them!  Apollo, they're Class X agents, aren't they?? What are they doing here!?"

"Good inferring," I can't help but praise her observation, "They're definitely not human.  Nami and Tomoe Kaguya died gruesome deaths, and-"

"That's the thing," Sakazaki continues, checking the doors as she goes for one that's not locked which she could hide inside, "Tomoe's got an eyepatch, it's on the same eye that those thugs-  That she got hurt.  You have any clue what the Hell those scientists are up to this time?"

"You're more in with 'Assis-co' than I am at this point," I answer, "I know less than you do.  If I had to hazard a guess, though, Kira sent off the bodies for experimentation.  Maybe they're being controlled by AIs.  Robots in flesh bodies," It's the only theory I can think of, since I know that those scientists haven't dabbled in demon magic since Ren Massou-Kobayashi turned up dead.  Given the fact that Fucko could, if it wanted, take complete control of Box's body means it's also entirely possible that a corpse could be managed by an AI, if all organs and the like were restored to normal working order first.  I can't imagine Doctor Same could manage a process like that, since she splits her time between surgery and chemistry, but there's always Doctor Martin... 

"I really fuckin' hate Kira sometimes!" Sakazaki sounds like she's on the brink of tears, but manages to get one of the doors open.  The infirmary.  She shuts it tight behind herself, and locks it.  There's one loud crash against the door as the thing which used to be Nami tries to get inside, but then the both of them give up and instead make a break for the school gates, both escaping into the night and out of my field of vision.  Don't make them go back there.  Were they trying to force Sakazaki to help them escape?  Why were they at Korekara in the first place?  I run back through the footage from earlier in the night, and my suspicions are confirmed.  Certain cameras were disabled for a short time.  Whoever created those two wanted to show them off to Kira.  Further investigation of the footage proves to me that they must have escaped from Kira's office, but probably received some sort of halt command which was only broken when Sakazaki appeared.

I worry about that.

Things have been going so well.  Box is doing so well.  I'd hate for Fucko to have to start all over again.  I call Roxie again.

"Please put the appearance of Class Experimental agents Nami and Tomoe Kaguya into your permanent databank.  Maybe we'll know what to do about them the next time around."

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