Lance “The Monster God” @tainbocuailnge hit me with:
for writing prompts, how about someone drunk bidding on a sword (or other weapon you're the one who knows shit about weapons) on ebay only to find out when it arrives that it is a magic and/or possessed sword that /desperately/ wants to belong to some mythical ancient hero despite it being the good old year of 2018 and if it has to whip its new owner into shape then so be it
So sit back, grab your pop corn, and let Uncle Drimo Beheading tell you the story of an unemployed man who drank a little bit too much and got in a scuffle with a mysterious man with an anime avatar, an event that changed his life.
———
“...And who the shit has an anime avatar on ePay?! You mean this freaking nerd outbid me? Get the hell out, let’s see what other deals he’s in, you’ve crossed the wrong unemployed drunk, shithead.”
The dark room’s sole source of light was the monitor’s light blue hue, reflected on a man’s glasses that sat in front of two tired, drunken, furious eyes.
2:38 AM, three bottles of schrobbeler, twelve cans of stout and a small army of discarded potato chip bags. It was a particularly bitter Friday, now Saturday, for Jan, and what better remedy for the sorrows of modern life than senseless spending? Like syrup finding is way down one’s throat, vigilantly hunting for a cold, the act of burning money seems oddly cathartic. It’s very much just pretending one’s current problems aren’t there by simply creating more trouble for oneself in the future. And sometimes, this future trouble is worth it if one’s splurging involves spiting someone with an anime avatar and a lot of booze. Not really, but it sure as hell seems so during the heat of a bid war.
“You think you’re hot shit, xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx? That I’m gonna let you flaunt your weight around just because you got some disposable income? I’m gonna shit on your sofa!”
Bills are a pain in the ass, aren’t they? Water, light, real estate, food expenses, cab fare... We’re lucky these brutes haven’t found a way to pipe oxygen and charge us for it yet, but it is what it is. And for bills, you need a job, for you kill those with your paycheck. Things were rocky, but stable enough the last few months for Jan Wildemors, but just yesterday, Fate decided to be that unlikable bitch we all hate and that hates us back, and he was laid off. No feedback or reason given, either. He was handed his stuff in a box that was missing a flap, and told to go, thank you for your hard work the last eight months, which is a very polite and corporate way of saying “go choke on a cat-o-nine-tails composed entirely of dildos”.
“Hah! Really regret on screwing me over with that keyboard now, don’t you, jackass?” Jan adjusted his glasses as he proudly asserted his dominance, victory his, not really sure what he just bought, but satisfied with the knowledge that he did. Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms! With his objective complete and his body at its limit, Jan went down like a glorious baboon that just missed a branch during its jump, his face smacking his desk as he lost consciousness like an ape plummets down a tree: With a lot of drool and a dull thud.
———
“Now, hold on just a second, let me check one more time with my bank, and--”
“Hey, you bought it, I just deliver it, now please just sign up already, and with all due disrespect, wear some pants next time. The day’s not even begun, and your hairy legs already ruined it. And yesterday too, retroactively.”
As the confused, unemployed man signed the paper on the clipboard (with a lent pen, of course), he was left one on one with the fruit of his idiocy: An ornate box, long and purple, the most expensive thing in the small apartment by far without even accounting for whatever it contained. “Oh man, oh man, I really messed up last night...”. Well! Whatever! It’s here already, so might as well open it! The best part of messing up is when you finally realize there’s no use in crying over spilled! Hooray, unhealthy coping mechanisms!
Inside the long and purple box was nothing other than a longsword, ornate and majestic. It was at this point that our dearest Jan propped a chair close to the window and prepared himself to just fucking throw himself out of it headfirst into the speeding traffic from the fourth floor.
“Welp, that’s that. I went and bought a sword. A sword. I can’t buy anything fancier than instant ramen or soggy lettuce leaves, not even the whole thing, I just got laid off from my job, and the first thing my drunk ass does is buy a sword. No wonder I had no cash when I checked in the morning. Well, alright, I’d like to thank my father for my ethics, my mother for my sense of humor, and neither of them for my savvy with finances, now let’s check out heaven, alley oop!”
“A moment, if you would.”
“Oh, sweet, the delirium is starting to kick in, I can hear voices! I love nervous breakdowns!”
“Face me when I speak to you, boy.”
Jan froze in place. This was the first time the panic voices ever were so untoward. He considered, for just a second, that maybe he truly wasn’t alone in this room, that perhaps, against all odds, that which was inside the box was the one...
“...Yes, it is I that speaks to you, now turn around and face me already, you unruly child.”
In the words of Oscar Wilde himself: “Holy shite”.
“Hold on, what, no one told me swords could speak.”
“And they normally don’t, but I am not a normal sword.”
On top of the chair, wearing only a sleeveless white t-shirt and coffee stained boxers, Jan Wildemors faced the sword in the purple box, a faint silver aura blanketing it, the two staring at each other while Jan comprehended, little by little, that his mundane life was about to end. The faint glow of the morning sun that filtered in through the closed blinds accentuated this scene, the young man’s face stained with lines of bewilderment and amazement.
He then faced the window and tried to throw himself out again.
“H-hey, stop trying to kill yourself for a second and hear me out, will you not!? What kind of reaction is this to the honor of being addressed to by Moonflare itself!”
“Yeah, no thanks! I’m not only unemployed and in debt, now I am being plunged into some magic nonsense that I want no part of! This truly is the end for me!”
“Wait, you’ve no job and you owe money? That’s less than ideal, young one.”
“And now a sword is criticizing my life choices! This sucks!”
“Just hear me out, damn it!”
“Aaaaaa!”
“Aaaaaa!”
“Baller”
———
“Coffee or juice?”
“I’m a sword.”
“Yeah.”
The young man sat in front of the sword, sipping his coffee, finally wearing pants, the weapon unmoved from the purple box, its faint silver flow still emanating like a candle at the end of a long, dark hallway. A resigned sigh is all the young man could muster, lifting his arms in very real surrender.
“Alright, let’s do this. What’s up?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? First your purchase me and now you wonder what the dickens I am? Where is it that I came from? How could you possibly acquire a Resonant Arm without knowing? Is this some manner of jest?”
“Yeah, look, I’m not going to lie to you, Monsieur Sword, I--”
“Moonflare.”
“Hm?”
“I’m no Monsieur, nor am I a Madame, I am a sword with a name, and that name is Moonflare. Be sure to use it.”
“Yeah, sure. Anyways, so yesterday, I was laid off from my job, so I got real damn drunk, and decided, yeah, Imma buy a gaming keyboard! It’s a sound investment! It’ll improve my morale and help out with my job hunting!”
“Uh huh...”
Jan stretched and sipped from his coffee, making keyboard motions with his free hand. “No, for real, reward yourself, and then be responsible without a regret! It works! Sometimes! Unfortunately, the model I wanted was the last one in stock in ePay, this bidding website for online transactions--”
“You bought me online!?” Moonflare cut in.
“What, that weird?”
“I’m a Resonant Arm! It’s akin to saying someone bought a priceless relic on the internet!”
“Well, about that...” Jan produced his smartphone, tapped it a couple of times, and pointed the screen to the hilt, where he assumed the sword’s “eyes” were. Jan is no sword biologist, so we hope you’ll excuse his beginner’s mistake. “...People kinda buy really expensive things like the Mona Liz--”
“Someone bought the Mona Lizard!?”
“On the internet.”
“Curses!”
“Yeah, so I guess you ended up being sold off online, and whether your previous owner knew about you being a Restaurant Arm or not is anyone’s guess, but the fact is, the keyboard I wanted was ripped from my bloody, splintered fingers by some asshole with an anime avatar that outbid me at the last second. So I got mad and went to outbuy him in something else he was putting money in for.”
“...What for?”
“A foolish and short-lived sense of satisfaction and spite.”
“Marvelous, and that’s how you came to own me.”
“That’s the whole shebang, ya.”
If the sword had eyes, their revolutions per second would create a localized cyclone. It was clear this was a six piece McNobody who just obtained them as a consequence of bad impulse control and good taste in alcohol.
“...Well then,” Moonflare finally let out, as if forcing words out of its sword throat. “You know, at least you’re honest. Well, this might just be what you need.”
Jan’s eyebrow raised inquisitively. “...What do you mean?”
“This could be destiny at play, young man. No job, crippling debt, the end of the road, that’s what life is for you right now. And at the moment of most need, when you see the horizon as a guillotine encroaching on your throat with each passing day, cooped up in this cell that no doubt will be subjected to embargo, you come across me, Moonflare the Pilgrimbreaker, Resonant Arm... No doubt you see where this is going, right?”
“What are you suggesting...?” Jan inquired, his interest thoroughly piqued.
“You can be a Hero. I can make you a Hero. One worthy of wielding the real me. Look around you, you know you want this. Say, what’s that poster over there, above the couch?”
Jan looked to where the sword had verbally pointed and found his old Funny Fantasy VII poster, with its protagonist boldly wielding his weapon in an action pose.
“It’s my Funny Fantasy VII Collector’s Edition poster. It’s my favorite game ever.”
“And who is that brazen, courageous man showcased oh so prominently in the forefront?”
“That’s Clown Strife! A failed JESTER who didn’t have it in him to make it big in the ranks of the CIR.cus organization! After taking to wandering as a mercenary, his freelancing eventually landed him smack in the middle of a huge, world-class incident!”
“Poetic, is it not? You’ve just been released from your own job, you’re swamped in debt, and nothing seems to be going right... And that’s when we cross roads. It’s not only that you don’t really have a choice, this is the right choice. We’ll make it big.”
For the first time in years, Jan’s eyes shone with a fire they had long forgotten. Hopping from job after job, doing shit he didn’t wanna do, forcing smiles for nasty bosses who didn’t give a damn about him... It could all be over. It could all remain in the past, were he to become a Hero.
“I’ll do it.” he said, resolution dripping from his voice and fire emanating from his eyes like a faulty smelter. “Let’s do this!”
———
“Let’s not do this!”
“Quit whining and give me ten more laps!”
“Stop giving me more laps!”
“Then stop whining, cur!”
It’s been a week of this tragedy. Day after day, night after night, the sword and man duo engaged in this pitiful play. Moonflare, the sharpest drill sergeant in town, attacked the would-be Hero with arduous routine after routine, if one could call “20 hours straight of morbidly harsh training” a routine, by any stretch. When he was finally done doing suspended midair push-ups with a tire, Moonflare gave the signal (which is a disappointed sigh, by the way), and Jan finally came down.
“You’ve got the physical condition, Jan, you are fit and can move well, but you don’t take pressure well.” the sword chided. “How are we going to achieve fame like this?”
“...”
This silent reply didn’t go unnoticed.
“Is there something that’s bothering you, young one?”
“Yes, actually. You keep mentioning ‘fame’. We need to be the best to cause an impression this, we need to be at our peak condition that, you seem really obsessed with fame. Isn’t a Hero’s role to save people in the first place?”
But now, the silence came from the sword.
“...Hey, I’ve put up with this for a week, you could at least tell me what a Restaurant Arm is already in addition to answering to what I just said. I’m breaking my back, almost literally, here.”
“You make a good point.” the sword replied with what almost was a sigh. “A Resonant Arm, and please get ‘Resonant’ right already, is a weapon crafted with a fragment of a powerful weapon of legend. In this body, I am powerful sword with capabilities far beyond regular weapons, yet, I’m still a shade of my true potential. It’s because only a shard of my original body is in this shell.”
“Oh! So wait, you’re not just some delirium or haunted sword with delusions of grandeur?”
“I ought to pierce a lung of yours for that statement, hmph! Indeed, I am not a figment of your desperate psyche, I am indeed THE Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker, the Discipliner, the...”
Jan scratched his head as he drank some water as Moonflare went on and on with his titles before he interjected. “I’ve never heard of you.”
That window shattering in the distance? That’s Moonflare’s confidence you just heard. “...Yeah, that’s the problem.”
“Hm?”
“...I am a legendary weapon, but I am unsung, because my previous master didn’t care for fame in the slightest.”
Jan simply looked at the sword, as if telling it to go on.
“...Centuries ago, I belonged to The Pilgrimbreaker, a very unknown Hero. There’s no records of her real name, for she refused to announce it, there’s no records of her face, for she always wore a helmet that shrouded it, and there’s no records of where she went to after the Mana Turbulence, for she disappeared without saying a word after all was said and done. Just a few souls in this world know about her, hence why I’m an unsung legendary weapon.”
“Huh... I was thinking she was small time, but the Mana Turbulence was a big deal way back in the day, wasn’t it? Was she weak compared to the other Heroes or something?”
“Nonsense!” Moonflare suddenly raised its voice in stark contrast to its usual calm bearing. “Pilgrimbreaker was the real deal! I never could see eye to eye with her, but I will never tolerate illspeak of her!”
“W-woah!”
“Her form was perfect, her mind impenetrable, her defense unbreakable and her aggression irresistible! She struck fear in whoever was in the wrong side of her blade! Do you know where she got the moniker of Pilgrimbreaker, boy!?”
“Moonflare, calm down, I didn’t mean to--”
“She singlehandedly infiltrated the dread cavern where the Pilgrims Of Brozarok held the Ritual Of Turbulence, which would’ve torn the world’s apart thrice had it been completed, and killed every last one of the wicked dastards! Her arm swished left and right, which each move an impact responding, each swipe a life taking, over and over, dodging curses and enduring maladies! She fought for an entire two days, killing every single Pilgrim in the cavern. By the time four hours had passed, I had gone dull from the sheer and excessive amount of cleaving, and yet, she relented not! With myself as a blunt hunk of moonsteel, she kept going, going, and going! What once were slashes now were blunt strikes, but her sheer strength would break them apart all the same! By the forty eighth hour, when she had broken every Pilgrim and stopped the Ritual, her own sword arm lay shattered and her muscles swollen. She saved the world! She saved us all...”
“...But she’s not famous, not unlike the other Heroes whose names are now in history books, huh?”
Today, Jan learned that swords could indeed cry. “Indeed... The other Heroes actually acknowledged and respected her. Some admired her! They worked together many times, and they were all equally instrumental in stopping the Turbulence. However, she always insisted in others not singing her praises. She foolishly refused to reveal face or name, and eventually, history forgot her.”
“...I guess that explains why you were sold as an antique at best online. No one knows the true of your previous Master, and thus, of your deeds.”
“...Yes. I suppose that makes sense.”
“So I guess your true body, that is, the true Moonflare is elsewhere, if only a fragment is built in you?” Jan inquired, going back to that topic not only because of his genuine curiosity, but also to change the topic, as it clearly was a sensitive topic for Moonflare.
“Yes and no. The ‘true’ Moonflare would imply I’m a fake one. I am indeed Moonflare, just, not in my true body. This blade was forged with a fragment found in the cavern where the Pilgrims met their end. As thus, I have consciousness in this ‘body’. Resonant Arms are called a such because they resonate with their true bodies, and can thus direct their owners to the real legendary weapons. Since it’s my body, I know where it is -- where I am.”
Jan’s eyes shot wide open and he choked on water. “Pwaah! H-hold on, if we can go get your real body, then why haven’t we done that?! We’ve just been wasting time for a week!”
“It’s not that easy. I need to make sure you are worthy. Not anyone can handle a legendary weapon, and you need to show me your physical and mental aptitude. That’s why, today, we’ll have a little test.”
“What? What’s this test? If you make me run more laps, I swear to Aunt Jemima I’ll--”
“We’ll go and do heroic deeds! The streets are dangerous at night, no? We’ll go and stop a crime! Then, I shall judge you!”
“Oh!”
It was finally time. After a whole week of this tiresome nonsense, of pushing his body to the utter limit, of ragging his muscles to shreds, it was finally time to engage in the whole Heroing dealio! And Jan, our strapping would-be Hero, simply couldn’t wait.
———
The streets of the city aren’t exactly what you’d call safe. In fact, they are not what you’d call “oh they are alright as long as you stay in the main streets and by the light”, either. Every back alley you see is a brave new world of armed robbery and assault, with your neck and wallet ripe for the taking. The ideal place to truly thrive as the scum of society and get your doctorate in banditry. Why, just now, a helpless office worker, on her way back from overtime, has found herself tangled in an interesting business proposition between herself and a switchblade pressed against her neck. The switchblade’s companion, a rather forceful fellow with an iron grip and a neck covered in veins, currently yells at her politely, suggesting she voluntarily makes a generous donation to his wallet. How beautiful they are, the streets of this city, rife with opportunity and bankrupted in morals and safety.
Little did the streets know that a brand new market element was about to change their business dynamic.
“Hold it right there, fiend!”
The sudden voice blindsided the mugger not from behind, but from above. As his neck craned to see just who in the world would dare interrupt such an important business meeting, he soon found his answer: It was the man wielding a longsword that currently plummeted towards him.
“The fu--!” The mugger moved out of the way in time to avoid feasting on boots, finally finding himself face to face with the vigilante. The lady that was being mugged couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at the cloaked figure of justice, its silver blade glimmering under the moonlight with unnatural fervor. The billowing cape and the small domino mask made it abundantly clear that this was no mere civilian, this was a vigilante who meant business.
“R-repent now, wrongdoer! Surrender yourself peacefully, and you may yet know mercy!”
“Oi! What’s wrong! Don’t stutter your lines!” Moonflare whispered.
“H-how do you expect me not to!? These lines are so cheesy and stupid...! J-just let me handle the script, yeah?”
“Absolutely not! Who is the seasoned legendary weapon here? If I may be so bold, I believe I know more about this whole Hero business than you do! Just follow my lead and we’ll rake in the fame I de-- we deserve! Now shush!”
With a sigh, Jan simply surrendered and went along with it, dramatically pointing the sword towards his foe. “Hark! Release the dame or taste the righteous fury of the Pilgrimbreaker, miscreant! Know that I shan’t stay my hand a second longer!”
“...pfff...”
A small chuckle finally interrupted the monologue of the would-be Hero. It wasn’t the mugger that let it out, however, it was the victim.
“pppfff... I-I’m sorry, but wow, you are extremely lame. A domino mask? Cape? Really? What C-list telenovela did you jump out from? Shouldn’t you be looking for your missing baby? Maybe slashing ‘Z’s on walls like a loser? Please do me a favor and let me get robbed, it’d be far more dignified than letting you save me, Costume Party.” the lady mercilessly commented, performing Herculean efforts to contain her laughter.
“Shit, I know, right? Who goes, ppfppfffffff, who goes all ‘reepehnt villuns!’ anymore? Did your mom slam dunk you when you were a child, guy? Cloak and mask over sweatpants and a sleeveless wife beater with coffee stains? Really?” the robber added, shaking his head.
“A full outfit is expen--”
“Then don’t wear any at all, idiot! You only look like an overgrown manchild going out trick or treating! You really looked at yourself in the mirror and thought, ‘yeah, this is cool, I look like justice itself, I’ll drown in pussy!’?” the supposed victim harshly mocked, her laughter now out of control.
“Pffff, yeah right, this guy couldn’t score in brothel. His birth certificate is an apology note from the condom factory. Imagine being this asshole’s mom!”
“Oh, fuck off! Someone carried this thing for nine months! Imagine looking at this dude’s FateBook and seeing him posting pics of his outfit, like, ‘Yeah! Ready to fight crime! #Herointhemaking’, and then thinking, yeah, I did this, I made this, I was irritable and in pain for 9 months so I could bring this specimen to the world. At that point, I rip my ovaries out with my own hands and play ping pong with them.” she mercilessly chided.
“Bwaaahahahaha! Hey, you are really funny, and pretty cute, now that I look at you.” observed the criminal, apparently taken with her, now that he could see her better, out of the darkest reaches of the back alley.
“You are not bad yourself... I like a man that can handle a knife. Say, are you free right now? I’d like to unwind after work. We had a meeting today and my bitch of a supervisor, who happens to be why I drink, was on one of those moods today.”
“I’m down for that. I know a really good place here, they have craft beer really cheap, since they make it themselves, and the steak is to die for. Let’s leave Captain Virgin behind and get started!”
The mugger and the victim looked at each others’ eyes with just an inkling of passion for a few seconds before walking away, arm in arm, leaving behind our would-be Hero, the night young and ripe for their taking. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship that would steer the young man towards rehabilitation and for him to abandon the ways of the petty street criminal, working long and hard for his doctorate in electrical engineering, a career he dropped out of, with the loving support of his girlfriend, whose own lifestyle greatly improved thanks to his good domestic skills and the encouraging fire of his pep talks. Together, they had three children (two of them twins) and lived a happy, humor filled life, growing old together, hand in hand.
Anyways, back to the present, where Jan’s self-esteem was shattered into so many pieces that you couldn’t even vacuum clean them.
“...What did just happen...?” Moonflare inquired, confused, no scratching his sword chin with the sword hand it didn’t have.
“C-crime successfully prevented! A-all part of the plan!”
“Are you crying?”
“Of joy!”
“Are you also trembling of joy?”
“Y-yup!”
“...In your parlance, this ‘sucked’, didn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“I really don’t know what to say, Jan. This is the first time I see an attempt at crimestopping end up in matchmaking. You might be cut out to be a Cupid more than a Hero, perhaps. Well, no matter, let’s try with the next--”
“Oh no no, look here, we’re not doing this again.” the would-be Hero vehemently declared, ripping his tiny domino mask off and throwing it in a nearby trash can. “No way. This sucks. Your way sucks. I’m absolutely not doing this your way. Look, we’re doing this my way, or it’s the highway for you.”
“Fool, I’ve got more experience, you must listen to me, and then we’ll be famous!” argued Moonflare, its silver glow intensifying as if to show irritation.
“You’ve no legs, so the highway means I’ll dunk you into the nearest river and call it a day. Now, you listen to me and you better listen well, Moonflare.” Jan’s voice finally hardened up, much like his grip on Moonflare’s hilt. “I’m neck-deep in debt, out of a job, stuck with a stupid sword that talks like a shitty Shakespearian secondary character, humiliated and ready to go and throw myself off that window, just like I should have. You either take me to your real body right now, or I’ll really make sure no one can find you. I’ll take a damn loan for a shovel and some scubba gear, dipshit. I’ll bury you at the bottom of a river or a lake, and no one will know.”
“Jan, please wait, you are clearly making a hasty decision here, your body and mind are not ready for the brunt of a legendary weapon, just follow my lead and--”
“And keep playing Cupid to victims and their would be assailants? Fuck off and fuck you. You’ve three seconds to start leading the way.”
Seeing as there was no convincing Jan, Moonflare finally complied, giving in to the demands of Captain Vir-- Jan.
———
Marble tiles, ivory pillars, and a massive sanctum lit only by mysterious floating gems that shone a dim blue. This was the Sanctum Of Moonflare, hidden deep within the underground, a place impossible to reach unless you know of it, as the path to it will capriciously twist and curve to kick you out if you don’t, leading you back to the entrance, no doubt all part of the arcane architecture that the gnomes who built this place are known for. Only Heroes, or those with the aptitude to become one, could reach this place.
“Well, it’s awfully convenient that this was located under the sewers of my city. What are the odds?”. Jan wore his trademark sleeveless white t-shirt and black sweatpants, without the silly cape and mask, of course. The majestic room clearly had gotten his attention, his eyes scanning the place thoroughly with child-like admiration, whistling at the intricate handiwork of the engravings in the ivory pillars that held the place together. “Sure looks like a place where you’d find a legend!”
“Odds had nothing to do with it.” curtly replied Moonflare. “We are no longer underneath your city. We are far, far away, in another country, actually.”
“Oh, quit it. We just went down a manhole, don’t try to embellish your shitty tale more than you need to.”
“I speak the truth, cur. This place is not subject to the physics and logic of the world. All Sanctums that hold a legendary weapon are hidden away in places that would be impossible to reach physically, and instead, one must know of the place and fulfill a certain number of rules in order to reach them. My Sanctum, as an unsung weapon, hasn’t difficult rules, as you can see.”
“I assume they are something like ‘knowing about the place’, ‘travelling underground while intending to reach it’, and ‘carrying a fragment of Moonflare’?”
The sword didn’t respond for a few seconds. “...That’s spot on, actually. Those are the three rules. How did you...?”
“Intuition. Places like this turn up in games and novels a lot. Perhaps they were inspired by the real tales of old Heroes in the first place, with no one knowing any better.”
“...The era of mass information is terrifying.” the sword lamented, still not used to the 21st century.
In the center of the massive Sanctum, a staircase led to an altar where a protrusion with a sword planted in it could be seen. As the duo approached the gorgeous marble staircase, the engravings of the ivory altar, which turned out to be runes, glowed with the same dim blue at the crystals that floated aimlessly, resonating with the fragment in the incomplete Moonflare, the structure making a noise that was simultaneously organic and mechanical.
“Well, it’s ready. Try and fail so we can get out of here.”
“...So, you are a sword in a stone that only the worthy can pull out, huh?”
“Good, seems you’re familiar with the concept. Saves me having to explain it to you. This is what I meant when I said you were not ready. Now, give it your futile go so we can go back and apply ourselves to accruing fame.”
As Jan’s hand approached the indigo hilt of the true Moonflare, just inches away before he could grip it, Jan and Moonflare were interrupted by a slow clap behind them.
“Bravo! You actually made it here. My compliments! Now, would you please turn around and face me, you thief? I’d so love to see your face.”
Surprised by the sudden personage, the duo turned around to see a man dressed in an exquisite purple suit, two long and curved blades hanging on his hips, one on each side. “What do you mean, ‘thief’? I ain’t taken a thing from you.”
“I disagree, you lout. That sword you insolently grip right now should have been mine to begin with.” he replied, his footsteps echoing in the ample hall as he approached Jan.
“Hold on... xX_KimikoFucker456_Xx!? Is that you!?”
“Kisser! xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx! Get it right!”
“So it is you, the weeb from ePay that outbid my keyboard! You asshole, I should’ve guessed only someone with an username like that would wear a tacky purple suit and carry two... Ppfff.... Two katanas! My goodness, you really are a disaster! Where’s your fedora? Shouldn’t you be at home complaining about the fairer sex?”
“These are tachi, you ignorant, insolent nobody! And the plural of ‘katana’ is ‘katana’, which you’d know if you knew anything about weaponry. You’ve got a lot of nerve to outbuy me for a Resonant Arm, but... I wager you had no clue it was one, am I wrong?”
“Oh, please, of course I kn--”
“He had no idea and everything you say is correct”
“Moonflare, shut up, the people with opposable thumbs are talking right now!”
“You’re telling me this is all because you were mad that I outbid you for a gaming keyboard? You went a got in a bidding war with me for a legendary weapon just because you couldn’t accept that someone took a blasted keyboard from you?”
“Ye.”
“Incredible.”
“Indeed, I said the same.”
xX_KimikoKisser937_Xx sighed and simply took a stance, his hand on the left tachi’s hilt. “...My name is Clement Marmaduke Solaris, and I challenge you to a duel for the Moonflare that you currently hold. In the impossible case that you defeat me, I shall gracefully relent and admit defeat, pursuing you nevermore.”
“Hey, quick question.” Jan shot at Clement as he readied his blade in a stance unlike anything Moonflare taught him during the hellish training week. “Does everyone involved with legendary weaponry and Heroes and all this jimjam talk like a loser nerd? Is it part of, like, a contract? Why do none of you speak like a fucking real person? Is it too hard to not be immediately unlikable as soon as you open your mouth?”
“...Do you accept my duel?”
“On one condition. If I win, you gotta give me the keyboard.”
“You’re still going on about that, Jan!?” the sword chastised, but Clement simply laughed.
“Very well. If I win, I get Moonflare, and if you win, you get the Palanquin Corsair K195 RGB Platinum Gaming Keyboard.”
With a nod, both men agreed to the terms of the duel, and not ten seconds passed before they were at it, the two clashing as the altar with the true Moonflare served as their judge. Eschewing all of the sword’s antiquated teachings, Jan’s fighting style was far more fluid and natural than the proper sword technique Moonflare would rather he used, involving tumbling on the ground and spinning, launching unpredictable slashes and thrusts from every direction and angle.
“Jan! What in the world is this!”
“Breakdancing! I do this a lot, hence why I was in shape before your training. Your formal style is too stiff and old, this suits me better!”
“We’ll never be famous with a silly style like this! Just use the proper style of Pilgrimbreaker, and--”
“Fame, fame, fame! It’s all you talk about! Put a sock on it, already! I don’t give a fuck!”
But just because he was doing much better didn’t mean he had the advantage. Clement’s technique was equally unorthodox, drawing his blade with lightning speed and re-sheathing it, shooting out attacks with immense force as he attacked and defended at the same time.
“Impressive, Jan. I didn’t think you’d last a second against my Iaijutsu.”
“Just like a weeb to use freakin’ Iai... But I hate to admit that you are really good at it.”
“Oh, you flatter me, but you’d seen nothing!”
Jan spun and flipped in the air to attack Clement with a smashing overhead, but the man in the suit, with practiced mastery and a cool head, blocked the attack using his tachi’s pommel, paralyzing Jan with the impact, and subsequently launching him across the room with a powerful sheath thrust to the gut, saliva and tears shooting from Jan’s face.
“Phwoo! Sh-shit... He’s really good...” Jan struggled to say as he cough and barely managed to get back on his wobbly feet, the air knocked out of him. “...He may be a loser, but he’s a strong one...!”
“Cease this child’s play and use the style I taught you already, Jan!”
“I’m afraid there’s no need to. I’m done playing.” Clement approached the duo, none the worse for wear, the pressure around him increasing tenfold compared to what it was before. He was clearly holding back, but playtime was over. “You are a disappointment, Jan. I held back to see if you truly had what it takes, but you don’t even clear the minimum requirement. That Moonflare and you are opposites, and thus, without ever agreeing on what your purpose should be, nay, in how you should even move, you’ll never unleash its true potential. Ready yourself.” Without letting go of the hilt on his left hip, Clement’s left hand now reached for the hilt on his right hip.
“...Wait, no way, are you really gonna--!”
“Hwaa!”
He was less a man and more a raging storm. With speed that defies comprehension, Clement’s attacks doubled in both velocity and quantity, employing iai strikes with both swords at the same time. If the flurry of one such blade was already difficult to keep up with, defending against this storm of steel was impossible. The sheer impact and velocity of the bladed tempest lifted Jan off the floor, silver and blood dancing around his helpless frame as his clothes were ragged to tatters, his mangled body landing square on the altar, next to Moonflare.
“H...Holy shit... I can’t fight that...”
The footsteps approached him. “Indeed, you can’t. Now, surrender the sword. You can’t keep going.”
There simply was no way for Jan to win. With a pained sigh and a bloody cough, he mustered the strength to extend Moonflare towards the Iai master. “Yeah, it makes sense for you to have it... You’ll make a better Hero than me in every way...”
“Hero...? What are you talking about?”
Jan twitched, confusion tinging his face. “Huh? Don’t you want Moonflare to become a Hero?” The statement was apparently a devastating joke, for Clement could barely contain his laughter.
“Of course not, silly. I just want Moonflare in my collection! I’m a collector of weapons who travels all across the world finding different antiques and relics, but alas, I’ve grown tired of simple mundane masterpieces. I’ve set my eyes, thus, on legendary weapons, and with Moonflare as my first, my collection will reach the next level.”
“Hark!” Moonflare interrupted, shining a furious silver. “I’m no ornament! I refuse to gather dust in your vault when there’s heroic deeds to be performed! You can simply commission a replica if you must! You have a fragment of me, as well, don’t you? You wouldn’t be able to come here otherwise.”
“Hah! Indeed, a fragment, albeit one too small to even house your consciousness. I’ve waited here for little over a week for you to show up. A weapon ought to obey, for without an owner, you are nothing. Simply sit tight in my basement as the crown jewel of my collection, O mighty Pilgrimbreaker, and cease your yapping?”
“...Don’t give me that bullshit.”
Blood oozing from his wounds, muscles tearing from the exertion and damage, Jan stood up, a new fire in his eyes. “You know, I was ok with losing to you. Moonflare’s a dick, but it’s a strong sword. If it was in the hands of a capable swordsman, no doubt it could mete out some ridiculous amounts of justice, enough to clean up the streets easily! I was ok with that Hero not being me! But you...”
“Jan...?”
“Oh?”
Jan pointed at Clement. “You are no Hero! You’re just a selfish little cunt who wants to feel good by filling his basement with shiny things! I’ll never give Moonflare, the Pilgrimbreaker to you! Not such a storied blade with a bright future in front of it!”
“Hah!” Clement could only laugh. “And how, I wonder and ponder, do you expect to make good on that? You are no match for me. Will you seriously throw yourself to the grinder for these ideals? Heroes are a thing of the past, and should remain so! They have no place in the modern world!”
“Oh, fuck you. Moonflare! I finally understand Pilgrimbreaker.”
“What do you mean...?”
Jan simply took a deep breath and approached the sword stuck in the stone of the altar. “Pilgrimbreaker was a real Hero precisely because she didn’t give a damn about fame. You only held her back, but she still managed to save the world.”
“What!”
“You’re obsessed with fame. You just want the glory of other weapons and their Heroes, and I kinda do feel for you, but that’s not what Heroism is about. You know what my job was before I got fired? I was an insurance agent. I got fired because I kept giving people benefits. Insurance is supposed to be there for when tragedy strikes.”
“...”
“Oh...?”
“When you have a car accident, when your parents die, when you get sick with a complex illness, insurance is supposed to cover for you. But my boss kept insisting that we find ways to screw our clients over, to bring up the small letter of a contract and fuck ‘em over! I ignored it, gave our clients our support, and that meant loses for the big wigs on top, loses they recouped by kicking me out. I thought I could make the world a better place, yet, it was another dumb pyramid scheme, the insurance game. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all this shit!”
Jan grabbed the sword’s hilt. “Moonflare! Pilgrimbreaker was the same! Heroes are all about public image, but she kept fighting as silently and anonymously as she could! Fame didn’t cross her mind! She wanted to make a difference! I admire her, I didn’t know about her until this week, but I wholeheartedly admire her! You should be ashamed of disrespecting her style and respecting only her strength!”
“Jan, I...”
The silver glow of the blade turned gold, and strength seeped into Jan’s body. The golden glow of affinity, achieved only when user and weapon are one mind and one soul, shone brightly from both sword and man, Jan’s words striking chords Moonflare didn’t even know about.
“...Interesting. Still, you won’t be able to draw that sword. A little bit of determination isn’t enough to change the world, which is exactly the kind of power that Moonflare requires to be drawn.”
“Bite me, nerd. Moonflare! Your methods are old, but your power is real! What you need to become a Hero in the modern day is to be a baller!”
“A... A what?”
“Baller! One who can do, no, who does what needs to be done. One who can make a difference, and makes the difference! Not one with the potential, but one with the intent! If we are to change this cynic piece of shit world, you need more than tradition! You need innovation! And with this innovation, we’ll pull out your body!”
“Jan, that’s fine and all, but it’s not how it works! But...” The sword’s golden aura intensified. “Whatever! We’re doing this your way! Let’s do this!”
Jan gripped the true Moonflare with all of his might and pulled, pulled, and pulled. Even the massive power boost from synchronizing with Moonflare didn’t seem to be enough. “W-we can’t do it...! You don’t have the power to change the world just yet, it’s nothing one can achieve overnight! That’s why I didn’t want to bring you here!”
“I don’t have the power to change the world...”
The altar rumbled.
“I don’t have the wisdom, either... The tradition... The pedigree...”
Cracks began to form on the floor surrounding the altar.
“But I have the heart! And there’s no way I’m surrendering you to an egoist jackass like this! I don’t have the power to change the world, but I sure as hell have it to draw one stupid sword--!”
The floor quaked wildly.
“--And start with the small things, like the streets! I don’t have the power to change the world, but that won’t stop me from trying!”
With a sound as loud as an explosion, rocks flew everywhere and a wall of dust obscured Clement’s vision as Jan let out one final scream. When the dust finally settled some, Clement couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him, Jan stood boldly, the True Moonflare resting atop his shoulder... Still embedded to the rock and the altar, which he simply carried as if it was nothing.
“Y-you what!? You just ripped the altar off the ground?!”
“I got no time for these dumbass traditions and tests of worthiness you losers like so much! This sword is rotting away down here when it could be saving lives and making the world a better place! If I have to take it with stone and altar and all, so be it! I like clubs better than swords, anyways!”
“This is unprecedented...! No one ever ripped the whole altar along with the sword! You technically didn’t draw me, but at the same time, you practically did! Is this the modernity you speak of?”
“Damn right! I’ll drag the entirety of the Sanctum if I need to. A little altar stuck to the sword is nothing! Now, Clement... Clench your teeth.”
“You dastard...! Hand over Moonflare!”
“Take it from me, bitch!”
Clement once again turned into a cyclone of steel, his infinite slashes approaching Jan faster than a ballistic satellite could catch, but Jan stood calm, took a deep breath in, and swung the altar-sword forward, like a baseball bat, with all of his might. The holy altar clashed with the furious steel, and the steel shattered into pieces. Behind the steel was the arm that held it, and the arm, too, was shattered into pieces, mere bone unable to withstand the impact of a ton of ivory and righteous Heroism. Behind the arm that held the steel was a body, and the body was, too, shattered into pieces, the single deft swing enough to incapacitate Clement easily, his mangled body rolling away from the sheer force of the impact, a few lucky bones in his body unbroken.
“W...Wha...? H-how...?”
“The thing is, Clement, you ain’t a baller. You are simply a selfish rich boy who looked at people’s hope and saw an ornament for his wall. You could never swing this blade meant to serve the people. You ain’t shit, Clement.”
———
“Hey, we’re on the newspaper again!”
“...Is it another collateral damage report?”
“...Y-yup...”
The sword sighed.
“We sure are stopping crime and accruing fame, just, not the kind of fame I wanted...”
“Hey! We’re saving people! What if a few cars or buildings get smashed in the process? I-It stimulates the economy!”
“Maybe if you were more careful when swinging me! I have a whole boulder-like altar stuck to my body!”
“Ok, ok, mom, chill. Let’s just go home now. We keep at it like this, and crime’s a-gone in a few weeks. No one wants to risk being clobbered by an altar, after all.”
The duo jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Jan lugging the massive altar casually atop of his shoulder still, less sword and more comically oversized hammer.
“You just wanna keep gaming with that new keyboard, don’t you? I swear... You should be training to be able to draw me properly!”
“You can’t rush Heroism, Moonflare! As long as we keep being ballers, we’ll get there eventually!”
What is a Hero? A beacon of hope for the people? Or someone who acts for their safety in the shadows? Both are valid definitions, and many more kinds of Heroes exist, too. There’s some that are Heroes due to their lineage, while others are self-made, defying expectation and rising to greatness, all that truly matters is that you seek greatness for yourself and others, regardless of how you go about it. Some prefer the bombastic splendor of the spotlight, while others feel comfy in the shadows, but as long as you are excellent to one another and keep going and going, no doubt you’ll become a Hero in your own way, be that sticking to old tradition or carving your own path.
For Jan and Moonflare, the path to being a Hero is to be Ballers.
“...But really, stop causing collateral damage, your debt is only getting worse, you idiot.”
Though their hands were clasped tightly, their eyes had not met in minutes now. The nerves of youth were very apparent in the faces of both the boy and the girl, who walked side by side, hand on hand, and step by step, but who couldn’t bear looking at each other.
“...T-this is the park, right?” the girl inquired, smashing the silence with all of her courage at long last. “The park that is... Supposed to bring couples together. Haha, it’s a really weird rumor, isn’t it?”
“It’s worth a try, at least” the boy replied, doing his best to not stutter. “I’ve heard of people that have come here and... Well, they end up much better, but they refuse to speak of what happened, and they warn you to not come here! That’s just way too suspicious, they just wanna hoard whatever it is for themselves!”
“Hah, that wouldn’t be too far fetched, but they could also just be lying, like, to be hip and stuff, you know?”
“See, that’s what bothers me. Yoshida isn’t one to lie! He’s been my bro since we’ve been little, we’ve never kept a secret from each other, and yet, he was practically begging me not to come! It’s wrecking my nerves! Just what is it about this shitty park...?”
Keisuke and Asuka are not dating, but lord almighty, do they wish they did. Keisuke and Asuka used to be classmates in middle school, and now once again are classmates in high school. They have a good vibe, but their insecurities have led them to be unable to say the words, to seal the deal, to stir the stew, to clench the cheeks, and so, they spend agonizing days full of awkward implications, sweet little nothings, and painful blushing. It could continue this way until something overly dramatic happens, or until they spit it out, but, haha, yeah, good luck doing that when you’re wuss, and guess what Keisuke and Asuka are? Wusses. Grade A, low fat, bona fide wusses from the finest wuss farms.
And for wusses, there’s always one salvation, one resource that never abandons them: Rumors. Whether it be magazines, “psychological tests” found in said magazines, Zodiac compatibility, blood types, elemental affinity, anything, wusses will take it as gospel and find the crutch they need to move on. Where that takes them, who knows, but it sure as hell makes them move at least. Proof: The Lovermaker Park.
“So, how did this Lovemaker Park rumor go, Keisuke?” asked Asuka, trying to stir any conversation to distract herself from the fact that she was holding sweaty palms with him.
“It’s Lovermaker Park, and it goes that if you get off Naka-Meguro station and walk down towards Saigoyama Park, but keep going from there without entering the park, you’ll find a desolate memorial park that no one remembers about. The benches will be sufficiently maintained, but still in disrepair, the trees will be alive, but with browned leaves and ashen bark regardless of the time of the year, and you’ll be alone with your lo... Lo... Companion. If you walk from the entrance to the end together, hand in hand, you’ll grow closer.” Keisuke replied, capitalizing on the opportunity to talk as much as possible, as the silence had been torturous not only to her.
“...It’s kinda unsettling how specific the rumor is, but it’s even more unsettling how... Well, it’s kinda true. It’s the start of spring and these trees look battered! Withered leaves, dried roots... D-do you think we should go back now?”
“Wait, Asuka! Don’t say that! Remember what they said! If you turn back, or even think about turning back, an Oni will appear and eat you!”
“Oh, a Oni, you say? Ya believe in those, little boy?”
“O-Of course I don’t!” retorted Keisuke, facing Asuka for the first time since they entered the park. “But you never can be... Did... Did your voice get deeper, and... What are you looking at...?”
The poor girl to his left was not looking at him. With a horrified expression and teary eyes, she stared at least two heads about the boy, her neck at the limit of how much above her she could look at. “K-K-Kei-Keisuke, be-behind, behind, Keisu--”
As he turned around, Keisuke found himself face to face with a belt decorated with various bells and bones. As he slowly looked up, he realized he was next to something truly and well massive, with white eyes that looked down at him, a razor sharp cheshire grin barely holding back its laughter. “What’s wrong, runt?”, it spoke, “I thought ya didn’t believe in Oni? Whatcha peein’ yer pants for, then, pussy?”
Both teenagers screamed in horror as they realized they were face to face with an ogre three times their size. Its long limbs looked unnatural, and though it was slender like a panther, it was very easy to see the toned muscles that comprised its body. Not that they looked at those for too long, as the real “charm point”, let’s call it, was the toothy smile comprised of a mouthful of sawed, jagged, misplaced teeth and large, featureless, mocking eyes. The bony hands with long fingers came down upon the two adolescents, missing them by a hair as they panicked and fumbled backwards.
“A-A real Oni!? Wha... Run! Run for it, Asuka!” cried the boy, trying to desperately get on his feet and stumbling forward, meeting the cobblestone face first and flailing wildly to get away as fast as he could, but his headless chicken tantrum came to an end the moment a shrill scream made him realize that his escape was a lonesome one. Turning around, the horrible sight of his crush being lifted effortlessly by the torso with only one hand broke his stupor, and instead genuine, conscious, palpable horror froze him in place.
“Keisuke! Go! Get away!” she pleaded and pleaded as the chesire maw approached her head with glee and laughter. “What are you doing!? Run!”. Keisuke dashed not towards the exit, but at a nearby bench with an oddly colored plank. “N-not that way, Keisuke, the exit is over--”
“T-the rumor said that if the Oni appeared, you had to find the oddly colored bench, and behind it...!” -- Keisuke leaped at the bench and landed on it kneefirst in his panic, his adrenaline masking the pain, and reached behind it to produce a large, gold branch with a glowing, silver, stake-like tip -- “...You’ll find a branch that can kill it!”
“What!? That’s the Branch of Amenunohoko! How could a brat like you brandish that!?” exclaimed the Oni, impetuous and brutish footsteps smashing the cobblestone beneath it as it shortened the distance between itself and the boy with blinding haste. “Pretty good for a pussy! Die!”
With a scream more akin to a warcry than a cowardly whine, Keisuke lunged at the towering beast, the branch easily piercing its hand and impaling the shoulder, purple blood gushing out of the wound, the pain forcing the beast to let Asuka go to cover it as it cried in pain. “Keisuke! T-the last part of the rumor! The Oni can only be killed if two hearts that truly love each other impale it with the branch...! Hurry, let’s do this!”
“Ou! Hyaaaaa!”
The two, their hearts as one, jumped at the screaming beast, still recoiling from the holy branch embedded in its shoulder, and their two pairs of hands drove the stake fully into the beast, it’s deafening scream drowning out every other sound in the park, sacred azure flames ensnaring the Oni in their purifying embrace.
“You... You bast... Aaaa...” crackled its last the Oni, collapsing a smoldering ruin.
The boy immediately embraced Asuka. “Are you alright!? I thought-- I thought it was gonna kill you! Are you hurt at all?”
“I’m fine! I’m fine! Thank everything, you are not hurt either...! I love you, Keisuke! Let’s... Please go out with me! This all made me realize that I can’t just hesitate anymore! And the way you threw yourself at that beast... I knew you were the one for me!”
“Asuka...! D-don’t say it so loud, I... I love you, too... Haha, hahaha! Let’s get out of here, and... I’ll be in your care!”
The smiling pair, nay, couple, held hands firmly and with no second thoughts, they left the park, effectively a closer couple than before, having survived the vicious assault of an Oni thanks to the power of their love!
The end.
Of their story, at least.
The burnt out husk of the Oni was left in the park, the glowing branch sticking out of it as unending blue flames gently swayed and danced with the night’s gale. A single pair of footsteps, light and subtle, became louder and louder as a blonde woman with a plastic bag hanging from her left hand and a long sniper rifle hanging from her right approached. Once she was a couple of meters away from the burnt corpse, she rummaged in the bag and produced a can of beer.
“Great work today, here you go.” the woman whimsically said to the corpse as she threw the can at it. As the can was about hit the corpse, its hand suddenly sprung to life, catching the can. In a flash, the fire was gone, and where there was once a smoldering carcass now lie a tall woman with long, dark hair in a casual, almost relaxed position. Wordlessly, she opened the can and downed it in a matter of seconds, motioning to the blonde to throw her another one. “Sheesh, you were parched, weren’t you?” the blonde chuckled, throwing two more from the bag.
“Ya know it! After a whole freakin’ day of doing this, I deserve it! Ya got the good stuff, too, ya lovely little bugger, thanks! Screamin’ and laughin’ that loud so much all day to mask yer rifle bangs has me throat parched like the sole of a crusader!” enthusiastically replied the cheerful dame on cobblestone, in stark contrast to the more subdued, quiet tone of the blonde woman. “I tell you what, I wasn’t fully in love with yer plan when ya laid it on me three weeks ago, I thought this was gonna go bust and then we’d hafta skedaddle for this or that reason... Or that ye were gonna try ‘n cap me while I was doing this shit, yeah? I’m glad I was wrong as usual!”
“You have a bounty on your head or something? Not that I care if you do, I am not into mercenary wet work, just doing my job here, so that’s what I’ll do. You’re free to be as paranoid as you wish.” calmly replied the riflewoman, removing her wool beanie hat and undoing her hair, letting her pale yellow mane flow with the night’s gale as she sipped soda from a can as if it was wine.
“Iunno if I have a bounty or not, friend, and though I’d bet my horn and a half I do, it ain’t about that, bwahaha, it’s about, uh, don’t take it the wrong way, aight?” replied the dark haired girl, who was dressed in a mish-mash of differently colored fabrics, her hair messily tied in a spiky ponytail as she casually removed the branch from her shoulder and tossed it aside. “But, an Angel holding a freakin’ rifle approaches you in this country, which is well out of your peeps’ jurisdiction, may I add, well, ya can’t blame me if I feel a little itchy behind the knuckles, yeah? Angels ain’t exactly the best fellas -- uh, no offense -- so an Angel with a rifle is, like, double bad news. Double false alarm in your case, though, thankfully!”
A hollow, practiced, and barely cordial chuckle came from the Angel. “Eh, you aren’t wrong. Angels are pricks. I’m not with them anymore, either way, and as far as I know, freelancers are ok here, right? I am a solo Cupid, not affiliated with anyone and not in contact with the Choir at all. If anything, I find it weird that an Oni so readily accepted to work with an Angel with as much... Pulchritude, let’s call it, as you did.”
“Eh, I ain’t smart, I like risks. I was half hopin’ for ya to shoot me in the noggin’, and then we’d have a nice ol’ rumble, ‘cause see, I’m not gonna lie, I ain’t never traded hands with an Angel, and a buncha little birdies have told me ain’t nothin’ funner than brawlin’ with one of y’all, but you turned out to be a real Cupid, and a weird one at that. First I hear of a solo Cupid. You just... Do this as a hobby? It’s our last day together, so I figured I might as well ask, if that’s cool with you.”
Without raising her voice or changing her deadpan expression in the slightest, the holy woman simply looked directly into the Oni’s red eyes. “Love rocks.” she uttered in the flattest, but clearest, of monotones.
“...Hah? What?”
“Love rocks.”
“You... Ya just doin’ this ‘cause you got a metaphorical sweet tooth?” asked the puzzled, bewildered, but definitely bemused Oni, downing another can of beer.
“It’s not metaphorical. It’s very real. Love rocks.” Again, that monotone? An unbreakable bastion. “I like seeing inexperienced couples composed of clumsy people manage to come together. I mix pleasure and business, because my business happens to be pleasure.”
With loud and powerful footsteps, the tall woman approached the angel and sat beside her. “...You... Went solo ‘cause you just love seein’ couples, Astra? Ya mean to tell me that ya took one good look at yerself in the mirror one day, said “fuck it, I’m doin’ me now”, gave the Choir both slips, and just legged it here to Japan? Just to shoot literal love into dumbass teenagers and shit? Then you look at yerself in the mirror again every night after a steamin’ hot shower, blonde hair probably a mess from bein’ inside that beanie all day long, cascadin’ ‘round ya as ya try t’fight it with the mightiest comb, and ya think, “yeah, fuck yeah, this is my life now, I love it”, girl?”
“Yup.”
“...Well slap me on the buttcheeks and tug on me ponytail.” the Oni remarked, laughing heartily. “It’s just one thing after the other with you... Fuckin’ Angels, man, bwahaha.”
“Astra” was a tall, woman with an almost pale, cream tone of blonde coloring in her shoulder blade long hair. Although not as tall as the Oni, she definitely wasn’t short, standing at 187 centimeters. Her attire consisted of exactly what you wouldn’t expect from someone who is supposedly “Cupid”: Tough steel-toed boots, grey jacket and cargo pants, tactical vest, grey wool beanie that usually concealed her hair, and silver sunglasses that masked her green eyes. One couldn’t tell her figure from her clothes, but her way of carrying herself indicated a lot of grace and dignity, with an elegant gait and a repertoire of smooth moves and habits, which would be charming if she wasn’t as intimidating as a woman with a perpetual, concrete deadpan expression and a rugged sniper rifle slung over her right shoulder was. “Don’t call me that, please refer to me with my full name, Nahoko.”
Nahoko, in contrast, was an even taller woman, hitting 217 centimeters of height. Her long, black hair was tied in a wild, messy ponytail, and not once had the Angel seen her without her eccentric war paint adorning her face or her even wilder attire that consisted of mix and mash pieces of fabric, some singed, some torn and ragged, worn in a way that barely counted as an outfit, with her left arm clad in a bizarre, single long glove covered in black feathers of several different birds, judging by their varied shapes, spike-like accessories jutting out from her left leg, and several bells and bones hanging from her sash. Her feet, legs, and right arm were wrapped in sarashi, and due to the exposed, almost exhibitionist nature of her outfit, it was immediately discernible that her sizeable chest also was covered by sarashi, and that her body as a whole was strong, with well defined abdominal muscles and biceps. Atop her forehead, the pride of every Oni, her two long horns, sat like a magnificent crown, above her red eyes, and below these, her toothy, serrated smile. “Yeah, yeah, yer so stiff, Astrael, jeez, we’ve known each other for three whole weeks! We’re practically sisters at this point!”, the Oni teased.
You couldn’t find a more contrasting pair.
“Finish up your drink, we still have time for one more. Last couple, and then our contract is up.” Astra was a very no-nonsense person in general, already cleaning her cylinder and preparing her ammunition and scope.
“Oi oi, no need to hurry, Astra...El” -- Nahoko chuckled like a child -- “When the tripwire tells us to go to work, we go to work. Talk with me a little, yer a sight here, and I happen to live for the spice of variety. Whatcha doin’ in a country so far from where yer kind’s influence is? I mean, even if yer solo, there had to be easier places than the land of the rising sun, yeah?”
With a tired sigh and seeing how it was truly the last night they’d share together in this job, the dutiful Astra decided to humor her at least this once, setting her rifle down and cracking open a can of beer of her own. “...I came here precisely because of that. I guess you could say I like a challenge.”
“Or ya don’t want to be found.” immediately interjected Nahoko, who couldn’t tell if Astra was averting eye contact through those silver shades, but she could bet she was. “...I’m not one to prod me horns ‘round where they don’t belong, but it’s really dang novel to see an Angel 'round these parts, and when we see one, it’s ‘cause they tryin’ to expand J-man’s influence in this ol’ country. I mean, we are even celebratin’ Christmas in here nowadays, how wild is that, bwaha!”
“...Did you accept to work with me to keep tabs on me?”
“Nah” -- the big woman produced an old fashioned pipe and lit it with her fingertip -- “I’m no friends with those old Shinto fucks, either. On the contrary, honestly. Y’know about Oni in general, so you should understand if I told you that I hail from the old school, from that one mount you probably haven’t heard of.”
“Oh? Mount Ooe? You were with Shuten-douji’s gang?” Astra added, keeping an eye on her cellphone in case the tripwire called them to work, much to the surprise of the Oni. “Can’t believe I’m working with such a big shot.” she added with some sarcasm mixed in with the curiosity.
“Hah! Not bloody likely, I was a bit player, the henchest of the women, you may say!” laughed Nahoko, throwing herself back to the cobblestone as if it was a comfortable bed. “Nah, a low ranked brigand who wasn’t fit to serve drinks to even his underlings, that was me! I mean, doesn’t sound too cool, I reckon, but I’m still alive! I wasn’t worth their time when they came a-stormin’. They killed every Oni worth killing, the rest of us cowards scattered. Fuckin’ Onmyouji and Exterminators, bwahaha, they only missed on Ibaraki-douji, ‘cause she was ungodly tough and resilient. There, see? I’m willin’ to show my hand, so show me yours already, ya stiff! I signed up with yer job ‘cause it was convenient for me and because it sounded fun. I get to scare kids and then play a big bad villain, just like the old times! Oni nowadays ain’t fun at all, man... Organized crime just ain’t the same as raidin’ and pillagin’... Ooh, racketin’ and protection money! Look at me! I’m such a pussy that I can’t just go take what I want! Subterfuge! I swear to Auntie Moriko, Oni these days ain’t got balls...”
The sniper couldn’t help but laugh at Nahoko’s bravado and lamentations for the “good ol’ days” of savage ransacking. “Heh... Well, times change, for better or for worse. Truth is, I didn’t really enjoy my job as an Angel anymore. I was stationed on Egypt one time for a big job, and I did that one... Really well, apparently, so I was dispatched to do similar jobs, even though I didn’t like it. I eventually had enough of it and just deserted. I came here at the prompt of an old friend who needed help with this country’s low birth rates, he was hoping I could do something about it, so I took to being a Cupid here.”
“Ooh, a big wig in this here country? Pretty well connected, ain’tcha? He’s payin’ you?” the Oni teased, elbowing Astra playfully, who was pretending really hard that those Oni-strength-fingerjabs didn’t hurt.
“Just essentials costs, really, stuff like lodging and day to day necessities. I didn’t want a full-on paycheck as if I was some sort of operator here, I’m just living my life now, helping clumsy couples with that first push, see?” Astra elaborated, playfully chambering and unchambering a round with a clicking sound.
Nahoko dragged on her pipe and puffed a big cloud of smoke from her mouth. “...You really love ‘love’, don’tcha? I swear, the only times yer eyes fire up are when yer talkin’ about these kids and how they need a little push. For such a crackshot to be this much of a consummated... Shit, whatcha call it... Um... There a word for someone like this? Romantic, maybe?”
“I mean, can you blame me?” interrupted the Angel, finishing her beer and opening the last can. “In a country where birthrates are low and where public displays of affection are frowned upon, where kids are clumsy lovers but wish they could partake in the skinship, the sweet caresses of mutual affection more freely, where the public opinion holds such weight and as such is a barbed leash, where the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, a silver angel is needed, and so she descends, bow and arrow of heart at the ready, prepared to ignite a night of romance with devastating accuracy and overwhelming firepower.” With each word, Astra’s monotone was growing weaker and weaker.
“W-woah.”
“Look at it this way: Imagine you are a girl in love with a boy, and you know that the boy loves you back. But! You are both clumsy, coy, foolish! You wait for him to take action, but he’s waiting for you, and you’re both, admittedly, pansies, so this just goes on and on, with both of you biting your respective pillows and waiting for each other to text first, until you are in the last year of high school, preparing for exams, and then you just say, “It’s fine! We’ll have time in university! Or while working!”, but then the years pass and pass, and none of you makes a single freakin’ move or takes a single freakin’ clue and then you are both old wrinkled raisins rich on protein and regret and you wonder and ponder, why! Why did I let the time pass like this! Social constructs, damn you! My own childish idiocy, curse you! You think convenient accidents and unexpected events that will bring you together just happen?! That you just reach into your jacket’s breast pocket one day and say, “Oh, wow! A contrived coincidence that will help up grow closer! Lucky me!” You think life is that easy, Nahoko!?”
“Holy shit, dude.”
“And that! Is why! I’m here! To prevent all of these sad, depressing, inevitable futures of beds far too large for one person and houses too spacious for a bachelor! So these unskilled sacks of love can fully... Love! I am the convenient accident! I am the unexpected event! I am the best thing to happen to clumsy couples! That is what I want to be!”
As the passionate outburst of the love legionnaire came to a conclusion, the perplexed Nahoko only made this “bweh” sound that is somewhere between a “Wow” and a “Mm!”. “Yeah, I didn’t doubt you for a second, but god damn, you a love maniac for real.”
The usually pale face of the Angel had turned beet red once she realized she had, once again, done it, and now she was definitely averting her eyes behind those shades. “I... Well, ahem, hmhm! Let me rephrase that in a less uncouth manner: I believe that love is complicated enough without all the social constructs and expectations that its participants may have to skirt around, and sometimes it can be hard to spit it out. I aspire to be able to give these couples this first push, or maybe their last push, so they can take the first, difficult step, because after that? They need me no more... To be frank, I don’t care about the low birthrate, either, man and man, woman and woman, I am here for love, not babies... There, I said it, are you happy? Have I made my, as you put it, ‘hand’ clear enough?”
“Plenty, ya little love freak! You are so adorable when you ain’t a block of ice and marksmanship. I knew you had a fire behind those stupid expensive shades, after three weeks of workin’ with ya, I just didn’t think it’d be a supernova!” jeered the loud ogre, pounding the cobblestone to dust with a hand as she laughed merrily. “Wouldn’t kill ya to be honest with yerself more often!” she finally declared, to which the Angel simply crossed her arms and pointed her nose skywards.
“W-why, you-- Make a mockery out of me, won’t you? I knew I shouldn’t have humored you. The nerve...”
“On the contrary, Astrael, thank you. It truly does make me happy to know I worked these three weeks with someone as alive as you. I wasn’t laughin’ ‘cause I was mockin’ ya, I’m just happy when I get to see people truly be about their thing. It’d be a more colorful world if we all were alive like that.”
“...I see.” Apparently, the compliment caught her off guard, as Astra calmed down and began playing Chamber The Round again.
“Anyways, get going.” Nahoko abruptly commanded. “We have our last couple.”
“What? Oh! The tripwire!”
Astra had been so distracted by her own volcanic passion that she didn’t notice the sensor being tripped. Grabbing her rifle and beanie, in one motion, four large white wings protruded from back, her special outfit opening on the shoulder blades to accommodate their exit, and she leaped with earth-shaking strength back to her sniper nest.
“Al~right, let’s make this last job one to remember!”. Dusting herself off, Nahoko grabbed the branch from earlier and imbued it with her illusion magic, giving it the golden and silver appearance from before. As she stowed it behind the odd-colored bench, the large woman couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a great companion, ‘Branch of Amenunohoko’, pff! Yer such a great actor!”
It was time for the final gig.
--
“A-Aimi, are you sure about this? This park looks really shady! There’s not a single soul around, and the trees are withered, even though it’s spring! L-let’s just go home, yeah?” pleaded the cowering, shorter girl, whose puffy light brown hair and thick glasses endowed her with a homely, what-are-you-doing-outta-the-library look.
“Michii!” chastised the taller, thinner girl with the longer and straight black hair and the many colorful accessories on her uniform and beautiful, expensive eyeliner, clearly from a different world than Michiko’s. “We said we’d go through this, right? Don’t back out on me now! B-besides, I told you, didn’t I...? I have something... Very important I want to tell you, you know?”. Hearing these words, the cowardly Michiko hit her own face with her palms and gave Aimi a resolute look.
“I’m sorry! It was a m-moment! You are my dearest friend in the world! A-anything you want to do, even if it’s scary and I want to die and explode and swallow needles instead of doing it, if it’s THIS important to you, then I’m down for it! Let me at it!” she roared with a voice that cracked midways through the declaration.
“Michiko... Heh, yeah, see! You can do it if you try! Now gimme that hand.” But as she gripped Michiko’s hand tightly and looked in the other direction, naught but sorrow brewed on her expression as the false confidence melted. “I... I hope you’ll be as enthusiastic after I tell you... That I... That I’m...” she murmured to herself, her heart tightening, her eyes watering.
The park was a depressing shade of brown, white, and grey, even though it was spring. The trees that should be blossoming and offering bountiful recompense for the passage of time for eyes to admire and hearts to sing instead stood almost like made of stone, naked branches offering misery instead of beautiful sights, and the less said about the cracked, dry bark, the better. The plain, white cobblestone, coupled with the dry soil blanketed with dirt, stones, and no life whatsoever, gave the image of a graveyard during the haunting hours more than that of a park where you might make magic happen with a confession. This isn’t even to mention the complete lack of birds or bugs. The air was stagnant, and something was quite obviously off. This wasn’t a place where you wanted to stay for more than you needed to in the worst of cases, and a place that you just took the long way around in the best. None of this dissuaded the two girls, one of which was, as they say, ‘riding or dying’ for her friend (riding and dying, however, would be more correct in this case), and the other simply had no interest in the scenery, a far more grave matter making the rounds in her head, something that had been torturing her for long, an aching secret that left a bitter aftertaste to every happy moment between the two.
And that is simply no way to live.
Aimi’s grip tightened on Michiko’s hand, which the bespectacled girl noticed. “...Aimi? Is everything ok? You’re far more tense than usual, and you do crazy stuff all the time.”
“Crazy is easy,” she replied. “This being a bit too sane is what worries me.”
The shorter girl stopped, bringing both of them to a halt. “Now, look, I don’t wanna push you, but this has had you acting weird as of late. Just what is it that has you like this? You rejected going for a burger -- my treat -- because you weren’t feeling up to it, and then you called me at 4:30 am the next day, saying we needed to abso-posi-you-better-believe-it come here yes or yes do or double die today. That’s not normal!”
“...Hmm, yeah, calling at four in the morning is a bit overkill...”
“You always call me at four in the morning, you expired pancake! But it’s always for a prank or a laugh! You do funny, stupid voices and stuff like that, not dire and ambiguous invitations to a park that looks like it contracted the Black Plague!”
“...F-fair, but the voices are pretty intelli--”
“Aimi.”
The stylish girl sighed and sat down on the oddly colored bench. “...Right, I guess I’ve dragged both of our feet a tad too long. Michiko, see, the thing is... Um?” -- Aimi couldn’t help be puzzled by Michiko’s expression of pure, abject horror -- “Michii? I haven’t actually told you anything yet, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“A-An ogre.” she stuttered back at the inquiry, with the elegance and dignity of a dog that has been caught tangled with the curtains.
“Well, geez, ok, an ogre, a ghost, same thing, what’s up?”
“AN OGRE IS WHAT’S UP, AIMI!” yelled the terrified girl, pointing behind Aimi.
“I think she’s talkin’ ‘bout me, but I could be wrong. Maybe there’s an ogre behind me? Could y’be a love and check behind me, lass?” a grim and mocking voice playfully requested, a hot breeze of freezing air licking Aimi’s ear as the unnatural voice broke into laughter. Wasting no time, Aimi immediately got off the bench, startled, and faced the tall, lanky beast that stood at least thrice her size, a towering creature of bony limbs and jawed teeth. Skulls and bells adorned her waist, neatly hanging by a sash, and she was immediately sent flying through a tree after Aimin landed an impeccable spinning kick right to her lower jaw, using the momentum to--
Wait, what?
The creaking of a tree collapsing under its own weight after the Oni was sent flying through it went completely unheard, for Michiko’s “Eeeeeh!?” was deafening enough. In the distance, a somewhat angelic, but subtle “Eeeeeh!?”, fortunately also went completely unheard. “A-Aimi, what was that!?”
“That was a spin kick. A Rolling Savate, if we wanna be pedan--”
“AIMI, I AM VERY CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT THE ONI! Wait, no, not the Oni! The fact that you kicked the Oni through a tree! Well, the Oni, too, but-- Ok, you! What is going on!”
“...What Oni? That was a stray dog.”
“Stray dogs don’t speak fluent Japanese and don’t wear skulls and bell on their waists! And they don’t have horns!”
“You’ve just had a sheltered life, Michii. They totally do.”
“Aimi.”
“O-ok, ok, I c-can explain, kinda, it’s just that--”
But before Aimi could begin trying to weave a tale or explanation outta this one, the beast was back on its feet, clutching its jaw. With thunderous footsteps that crushed the cobblestone under it, the Oni finally approached the pair of girls, invading Aimi’s blue eyes with its fully red own. Letting go of its jaw, it pointed a long and bony finger at her adversary, the air stagnant with intimidating anticipation. Michiko couldn’t move a muscle nor speak a word. The beast finally opened its mouth: “Eeeeeh!? What the hell was that!? Who the hell kicks an Oni in the face as their first reaction!? That ain’t fair! How’dja do that!?”
“...Ah?” the glasses girl let out, the scene playing right in front of her not quite living up to her expectations of something that should be impossible and mystic.
“For real! What the hell! Do ya just kick people in the face when they tap yer shoulder and are like, ‘hey, here’s the eraser ya dropped’, ya damn miscreant! Apologize to me! Apologize to me right now, or I’ll eat yer frieEEEEEAAAAAAAA!!!!”
Whatever threat the Oni was making didn’t exactly pan out, as Aimi immediately went for its legs in the middle of its little speech, seized them, and begun spinning the beast in the air.
“Holy shit!” a bespectacled voice exclaimed.
“Holy shit!” an exasperated Oni voice yelped.
“Sacred feces!” an angelic voice yelled, unheard to anyone but herself.
“Oraaaaaa!” Aimi cried, spinning faster and faster until she attained sufficient momentum to launch just about anything out of the stratosphere, chucking the monster through many more trees this time. “Piss off already, damn it! You’re ruining my important day!”
“H-haha!” the Oni laughed, coming back battered, bruised, and clearly in pain. “Y-you can’t defeat me with yer p-puny human strength...?” -- the Oni seemed to have difficulty believing the things that were coming out of her own dislocated mouth -- “Only the Branch of Amenunohoko can--”
As if possessed by the soul of a particularly furious housewife after her husband flushed the toilet while she was in the shower, the stylish girl stuck her hand behind the bench, produced the gold and silver branch, and she smashed it over the Oni’s head in one fell swoop, breaking it in half. “PISS OFF”. Picking the broken halves, Aimi proceeded to pretend the Oni was a taiko drum with her makeshift clubs. “Just! Get! Out! Already! Uggggh!”. After the Oni was practically mashed potatoes, Aimi discarded the now regular looking branches and approached her friend once anew. “Dogs are wild nowadays, aren’t they, Michii!”
“...Aimi, just what in the world is going...” is all the poor, confused girl could say, clearly still processing the scandalously brutal beatdown her best friend just inflicted on the Oni. Oh, and the Oni probably has to do with her confusion, too, maybe. Aimi could only sigh again, dejectedly looking at the floor, then the sky, and sighing again before finally looking at Michiko in the eyes.
“Look, Michii... The thing is... What I wanted to tell you is that I... I--! Get back!”. AImi immediately pushed Michiko away and turned around just in time to block a massive overhead hammer punch from the Oni, who was suddenly back on its feet. Aimi’s thin arms somehow blocked the attack, but she sunk halfway to her torso through the ground from the impact and heft of the blow. “Guh...! This is the strength of an Oni, alright...! I guess you finally decided to stop playing around!”
“...Me?” replied the now serene Oni, seemingly not harmed in the slightest from the drum solo or the Giant Swing Aimi inflicted on its body. “I ain’t the one playin’ around, missy, ya know that well. You got some guts pretendin’ to be just any ol’ preppy high school girl, ya fox.”
“...! Not one more word out of you!” Aimi barked back, her composure beginning to melt much like her knees under the immense strength of the hand that threatened to crush her against the ground.
“Yeah, yer right, no more words, we speak with actions now!” the Oni announced with a mocking laughter ten times colder than its hyperbolic act when it met them by the bench. This wasn’t the guffaw of a children’s book’s picaresque and colorful villain, no, this was the genuine snickering of a blood starved beast who was finally found some meat after surviving on dirt and berries for who knows how long. Cocking its free hand, the Oni swung a hook with her left hand, smashing its massive hand against the exposed side of the girl, launched her in the air with a yelp. “How’s that for a greetin’, ya shit.”
“Aimi! Oh god, Aimi!”
“Hey! Nahoko! What the hell are you doing!?” Astra chastised her partner through her radio. “Did you seriously hit a human for real!?”
“...Astrael, two things.” the Oni replied, holding two fingers against the comm on her right ear. “The first is that yer wrong. That right there ain’t no human. Fooled us both real good, didn’t she?”
“...Huh?”
As the dust dissipated from where the school girl landed, a silhouette of a thin, tall girl was vaguely visible. Same long legs, same long hair, same thing arms, and yet, the silhouette was fundamentally different... Or rather, complete. “Aimi...?” The silhouette became clearer and clearer as the dust settled, with two long, fox-like ears pointing upwards, and massive fox tail protruding behind her. For someone that just got ragdolled by an honest to God Oni Haymaker, she was looking pretty good. Stepping forward, she cracked her neck and then her knuckles.
“...Michii, get behind me.”
“Aimi, you... What, what is going on!?”
“Michiko!” finally burst the fox girl, startling the confused, smaller girl. “...Look, I’ll explain everything, I promise, this is... Relevant as to why we are here today, but for now, I need you to trust me, ok? That thing is dangerous. Stay behind me. I’ll protect you with everything I got, and after I’m done with it, I’ll tell you everything.” Michiko was afraid and confused, but she didn’t doubt her friend’s words for one second, nodding and quickly running behind Aimi, at a safe distance.
“...And the second thing, Astrael...” continued the Oni, “...is that ya can count me out. That there Kitsune is a real tough one, the kinda prime meat ya don’t find on the market just any day. And I am hungry. I am oh so hungry for a good damn fight after so long. This is the real pay I get outta this, I guess!”
“Oi, wait a minu--” is all the angel could get out before the Oni destroyed the comm, reducing it to fragments and chips by simply rubbing it between her fingers as they underwent a metamorphosis, losing their bony appearance, much to the surprise of the duo. “Over and out. Now, you, Kitsune... Aimi, was it? I reckon I might as well introduce myself prim and proper, the way momma taught me. Name’s Nahoko, and I am going to pummel you to a pulp.” Nahoko smirked and spat, walking towards Aimi with footsteps more akin to stomps that smashed the cobblestone under her all the same. “Don’t even concern yerself with protectin’ that kid behind ya. I am not interested in her in the slightest. Focus yerself fully on fightin’ me, ‘cause bruisin’ ya is all I’m lookin’ for, yeah?”
Right before their eyes, the beastly and uncanny Oni morphed, shrinking and becoming more properly proportioned, finally resembling a beautiful, very tall woman with long dark hair tied in a messy ponytail and warpaint adorning her face. “...I won’t ask why you were acting and looking like a fool before, but I suppose this means you’re going to be serious now.” shot back Aimi, a faint teal flame surrounding her hands, now balled into fists. “I suppose I can shit all over you for a bit, given you went and ruined my special day, you asshole.”
“Fuck off. Talk with yer hands, pussy.”
“Oh, I plan to.”
There we no more words. Oni and Kitsune clashed in the center of the cobblestone walkway, Aimi opening with a right straight that Nahoko countered with a headbutt, smashing her hard head against the thin girl’s fist, making her wince from the pain, but the Oni’s follow up swipe missed its mark, as Aimi twisted her body and rolled on Nahoko’s arm to get to her back, placing both of her palms against the back of her neck and blasting her with a localized explosion, sending her reeling.
“Hoh! That was supposed to behead you.” coldly complimented the Kitsune. “That was supposed to be an explosion inside of your neck. You have good magic resistance.”
“Hah! This hide of mine is pretty damn rugged!” boasted Nahoko, tapping her unscathed neck twice with a finger. “Yer gonna need Magic Emission on the level of a Faded Sigil in order to cast magic directly inside my body, so ya better start thinkin’ a new strat, fox.”
Although they fought with very different emotions, it was clear both wanted the other made into a bloody mess, stat, and so, they clashed, the Oni seeing a dance where the Kitsune saw a death match. As elbows and knees met and bone and sinew sang, from among the bushes, a tall, blonde woman emerged, rifle in hand. “Alright, that’s enough.” the vexes sniper announced, training her rifle at Michiko, freezing both fighters in place. “Let’s just cut to the chase.”
“Oi, Astra! Don’t fuckin’ intervene in this! I’ve wanted this for a long tiIIIAAAA!” In that singular moment of carelessness, Aimi seized Nahoko by the horns and threw her between Michiko and the sniper just as she squeezed the trigger, the bullet hitting Nahoko square in the chest, making her drop to a knee. “Guh!"
“Don’t you dare hurt Michiko! I’ll rip your apart!”
“Kitsune!” erupted the inflamed angel. “What is the meaning of this!? That bullet was meant for that girl! Do you think those are cheap!?”
“Astra, you god damn imbecile, of course she’s gonna block it! They ain’t even know yer a--!” but the Oni couldn’t finish what she was saying before a jolt shook her to the very core, her eyes fixating on the petite human girl she had unintentionally shielded. “...Hey... Yer... Yer damn cute as a button, now that I look at you better.”
“Oh.” The Kitsune, faster than the eye could possibly ever dare to perceive, grabbed the sniper by the collar, lifting her, a wicked grin on her face. “...A ranged weapon, angel, and a sudden infatuation... You wouldn’t happen to be a Cupid, would you?”
“N-No idea what you’re talking about.”
“And you wouldn’t happen to have shot that Oni with a Love Arrow just now, hmm?”
“Certainly within the realm of possibility.”
“Haha.”
“H-haha...”
“...”
“...Um, Kitsune, you--”
“I wonder if you bleed?” Aimi wondered with the sweetest smile as she clenched her fist hard enough that it sounded like rubber stretching.
“Fair, but you might want to look at Naho-- the Oni right now.”
“As if you could escape the Triple Deluxe Knuckle McSandwich that I am going to force feed you right now with a dumb trick like thaaaAAAAA WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY MICHII!”
As Astra and Aimi played mental footsies, the suddenly infatuated Oni, with a proper posture instead of her usual hunched over gait, approached the paralyzed Michiko, in utter awe and confusion at this behemoth of a curvaceous woman who towered over her, hips swinging with each step she took. “I can see why that fox likes ya! It’s like I could just hug ya while I sleep and dream the sweetest things, ya cute little radish stalk.” With the distance between them gone, the big hand of the tall woman fell upon the tiny girl’s head, bringing her closer and pressing her face against her exposed stomach, causing the little girl to yelp in surprise and bewilderment as she met her powerful abdominal muscles on a personal level. “I don’t even work out much anymore, but I think they are pretty good, ain’t they? Just wait till you feel them in action, you’ll see what I mean once I am rammin’ yer cute little body against my bedpo--”
“Oi! Watch your tongue!” the irate Kitsune yelled. “Don’t be saying things like that in public!”
“Oh? What, ya jealous? Then watch this.” Without further ado, Nahoko crouched, her face very close to Michiko’s own, lips half open and eyes half-lidded and... She lightly tapped her horns against Michiko’s forehead.
“Huh...? Wh-what was that...?” the human wondered, but one look at Aimi and the sniper seemed to clue her in to that having had a special meaning, because the Kitsune was beet red and the Angel was covering her mouth in amazement.
Spin Kick 2: The Return Of The Spin Kick, the long awaited sequel, interrupted the Oni’s scandalous invitation, sending her through yet another tree. “YYYYYOU! Lewd! Extremely lewd! What do you think you’re doing to my Michii!” howled Aimi, hugging her puzzled friend close. “You... Horny temptress! Michiko, are you alright?! More importantly, do you like taller girls? I mean, I am taller than you! Maybe not as tall as she is, but I am still good, right?”
“Um... Aimi? What does it mean when an Oni taps her horns against your head? and what are you--”
“And I can start working out, too! I’ll get some toned abs over the summer, so don’t you worry!”
“T-that’s cool, but, um, hey, so, what is... What is going on, dude?”
“...And plus, a less extreme height different is much cuter, if you ask m-- Hm? What do you mean, what is gOh.” -- Aimi finally returned to the real world -- Yeah, right, the, um, everything. Ok, so, Michii, this might be awkward, but--”
“...You’re... A Kitsune, Aimi.” finally blurted out Michiko, looking at the long, elegant ears that protruded from her friend’s head. “...So things like Kitsune and Oni are real, huh? This is kinda wild.” Aimi couldn’t find the words to answer to that or the courage to look at her in the eyes right now. With a long sigh, she finally worked the courage to say what she had wanted to say all these years, what she had come to say today.
“Michiko, please listen closely, ok? There’s no point in dolling it up by now, but, yeah, I am... A Kitsune. A legitimate Kitsune. I’ve kept this from you for all these years, and I really apologize for that. It’s felt horrible having to lie to you for so long, and I’ve wanted to tell you so, so much, but, well, it’s just not that easy. You’re a completely ordinary person, unaware of the the truth behind the fake ordinary world in which humans live. I was never supposed to tell you, or to even... Spend much time with you in the first place. It never was supposed to be like this.”
--
Meanwhile, rising from the rubble nearby, a revived Nahoko was ready for round two. “Alright, you cheeky little shithead, we were just going for pleasure before, but now, iiiiit’s business! I am aimin’ to kill ya if ya want to lay a hand on my Michiko!”
However, the Oni couldn’t move. Much to her surprise, she found her arm seized and a cold blade pressed against her neck, a trickle of blood trailing down her collarbone. “Wha...! How and when did you...?”
“Do not interrupt, Nahoko. If you interrupt this right now, I will kill you.” Astra promised, holding Nahoko perfectly still, despite her struggling. “Besides...”
“Haha, fuck, so you can actually... Well, aight. ‘Besides’ what?”
“It’s getting good as shit.”
--
“What do you mean, it was never supposed to be like this...?” inquired the puzzled Michiko, dreading the tone of that statement.
“...I initially just got close to you because I wanted to humiliate you. It’s what we Yako, or Nogitsune, do. Being malicious and mischievous is in our nature, and we love toying with humans, sometimes just to lead them to misfortune, other times to lead them to ruination or even death. I wanted to get your trust so I could throw it to the ground when you least expected it.” explained Aimi with a plastic, apologetic smile. “Oh, look at that tiny little loser, she has no friends, she doesn’t go anywhere after school, she just sits by herself during lunch... Is what I thought when I saw you for the first time in school. I saw an easy pick, is what I am trying to say. I went for it. All you were to me was a future accomplishment, a funny story I’d tell to my family some time later during lunchtime, when it was Humans Are Dumb story time.”
“...Aimi, I...”
“Remember the first time we talked? I asked you if you wanted to partner up with me for gym class. You gave it your absolute everything, more than I ever saw you try any time before, because you didn’t want to drag me down. After that, you overcame your shyness and asked me if I wanted to hang out after school. I was surprised, but not truly moved. Not yet, at least. Time passed, we did this and that, you were always on board with my dumb ideas, and you even stuck through our, no, my punishment whenever I got caught. Why didn’t you ever just say it had been my idea? You could’ve gotten away with no punishment, no suspension every single time.”
“Because I was having fun with you. I couldn’t just--”
“Couldn’t just abandon me just because things went south, right? Because that’s the thrice accursed kind of person you are. Time and time and time again, you stood by my side, during the little detentions, and during the big suspensions. I hate you... I hate you for being like that!”
“...Aimi, what are you saying...! I just couldn’t... Turn my back on the first person that--”
“I hate you because I love you, you big idealistic idiot! You never suspected I could have been trying to mess with you, not even once! You didn’t distrust me when you should have! You never once even entertained the idea that I might have just been preparing you for the biggest humiliation of your life, and you just kept treating me like a friend, over and over and over! Too naive! You’re the kind of person that a Nogitsune has a field day with! You are the person that ends up being ruled as a suicide in the middle of a lake or a forest because we can simply toy with you at will!”
“Well, what could I have done, you imbecile! You want me to look at my first and best friend in life and just turn a blind eye whenever she needs me!? If I couldn’t trust you, then who could I trust? Call it naive, call it dumb, I don’t care, I don’t regret a single one of those decisions! It’s been the best time in my life, so you... How can you just call it a waste and something dumb!? Are you out of your... Out of your... Aimi?”
In front of Michiko, the fox girl had broken into tears. The usually haughty girl who stood up to anyone and got in trouble at all times, famous problem child Aimi, who had just gone toe to toe with an Oni, now had streaks of sorrow trailing down her face and her ears were drooping down, an unending stream of tears staining her usually immaculate face currently contorted by sorrow. “...You’re like this, and this is why I hate it... I hate it because I love you...! I love you! I love you so freaking much, Michii! It was all just supposed to be a prank, a ploy, but I didn’t consider the most important aspect of it all: How much I came to care for you, and how much you came to care for me... Every time things were hard for me, you’d stay with me one the phone until the high hours of the morning. When I had problems with my folks, problems I never once told you about, you trusted me, you let me stay over at your place, and damn, I have never enjoyed myself more than the time I get to spend with you. So I’ve felt horrible! I’ve felt horrible because I only wanted to harm you, I lied to you, I kept so much from you, but you kept giving!”
“...Aimi, friendship isn’t about keeping tallies!”
“It should be! No... Well, it’s like that... At least among my family, it is, but I want to believe you. So, I decided to bring you here today so I could tell you. So, please, let me do it properly now. Ahem, um, Michiko, I’m sorry I lied, I’m actually a Kitsune, a Nogitsune, specifically. I couldn’t just tell you, but as time passed, I couldn’t just not tell you anymore.”
“...Well, I mean, this is where I should be surprised and demanding an explanation, but after seeing you and that Oni go Wuxia on each other, and given you kinda just told me already, anyways, well... This is awkward, haha!”
“Ahahaha, yeah, not the most ideal confession, could’ve gone better.”
“Still, Aimi, thank you for telling me this, thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for deciding to trust me with this, even with the malicious beginnings of our friendship, everything. I don’t feel like there’s anything for me to ‘forgive’, per se, but I want to ease your mind as well, so if it’ll help, I forgive you, please don’t worry about it.”
The fox girl smiled and her ears shot upwards. “Michii...! Does that mean...!” Before Aimi could finish what she was saying, the smaller girl rushed her and buried her face against her chest, trapping her in a tight hug.
“Of course I don’t mind! Please don’t go away! I’ll keep your secret, I wanna keep getting in trouble with you, doing dumb things, getting called at 4:30 am to hear your silly voices and jokes, everything! Also, I wanna touch your ears and tail, but that’s neither here and there!” joyfully cried the smaller girl, embracing her friend tightly.
“Ahahaha! Gosh, as usual, you do not hold back, but hey, um... About what I said... Um, I meant it in a lot of ways, but also a very specific way...”
“Hm?” Without letting go of her hug, Michiko, whose face was burried in Aimi’s chest, looked up to meet her eye to eye, just to find a beet red Aimi. “...Whatcha mean?”
“T-that I... That I love you. I love you so, so much. You’re the best thing that has happened to me, and my life has only been sweet and fun since we’ve been doing our thing. I wanna know... If you feel the same way, or if, you know, both of us being girls gets in the way, you know, important stuff! You feel me! Don’t make me say it!”
“I don’t... Understand what you’re saying, Aimi, this is all too sudden, can you please repeat that for m-me...?”
“Aaaarrgh! Michii! I’m saying that I love you so much it makes my heart hurt! I want to hug you and cuddle with you and... Gosh, just run my fingers through your puffy, curly hair as I smooch you right in those adorable cheeks, could you please get it already! I love you!”
“Hehe...”
“...! Oh, you little shit!”
“Sorry, sorry! I just wanted to hear you say those things, haha! You’re so cute when you get flustered, Aimi! Haha!”
“See! This is the shit I put up with! I’m the fox but sometimes I’m the one being tricked! How dare you, you absolutely rotten pancake! You hideous macaroon! You heretic beef stew from two days ago! You--”
“Hehe... Yes.”
“--soggy french fri-- Huh?”
“...Yes. Of course I want to go out with you. I love you too, silly. Kitsune or human, boy or girl, you think that matters to me when my favorite person in the world is the one saying it? I love you. I want to see what kind of trouble we can get into tomorrow, the day after, the year after, the decade after... Ideally, forever. I don’t want to get separated from you, and... Well, you know what my parents say? ‘The best person you could possibly date, love, and grow old with is your best friend’.”
“Michii...”
“And you know what, Aimi?”
Standing on the tip of her toes, the petite human pressed the softest kiss on the lips of the Kitsune, holding her face with both of her hands. “...I’m inclined to believe them. Let’s keep having fun together, now and ever, AImi. I love you.”
“...Once again, you ambush me when I least expect it, gosh... I-I had this whole thing where I was gonna embrace you and kiss you and all, I even had a good line prepared!”
“Hehe! Well, do it now! We have all the time in the world...”
“Ahem.”
Their little world was shattered down to pieces the moment a particularly angelic interruption reminded them that they were not alone. “Ah.” “Oh!”
“Good for you, kiddos, but you shouldn’t be swapping spit in front of strangers.” reprimanded Astra, who had Nahoko on top of her shoulders, hogtied and blindfolded. “Still, congratulations. I hope you two have an excellent future together.” As she said this, however, the voice of the sniper was at its softest yet, and a genuine smile adorned her lips. “Take care of each other, yeah?”
“Yes!” the enthusiastic Michiko exclaimed, hugging her girlfriend tight and close.
“...This was all weird, but, yeah. And... Thank you, Miss Cupid... Even though you totally missed your shot, haha. Um, before you go, can I ask you... Is this park Scenario Witchery?” inquired Aimi as she held Michiko close, a hand on top of her head.
“...Oho. Good eyes, Kitsune. This park is, indeed, my Scenario Witchery. During your confession, I could’ve made all these dead trees bloom and a million of flowers erupt, but... That would’ve been way too cheesy, no? Way too cheesy. It would’ve really been too cheesy.”
“Ah, she wanted to do that, huh.” both girls thought to themselves.
“It’s also why I recommend you to get out as soon as you can. The time limit is the end of today, so just in a couple of hours. I’d held this Scenario for the last three weeks. This ‘park’ is actually an empty lot that will be made into a big building soon. I hear it’s a mall, so I say you two come here for a date when that’s ready. It’ll be fun to revisit what technically was where that cute fox confessed oh so clumsily, no?”
“...Y-yeah, if you wanna. Well, thank you, Miss Cupid, we’ll be on our way, then.” Aimi said, waving half-heartedly.
“Mmhm! I don’t really get it, but I suppose you’re the one responsible for this! So thank you!” chimed the enthusiastic smaller girl.
“Yeah, take care, I’ll go dump this dumb Oni on Meguro river or something now.” And with that said, Astrael walked away with the struggling Nahoko, disappearing among the trees.
As they walked home together, Michiko tugged on Aimi’s arm. “Aimi, what’s Scenario Witchery?”
“It’s a very complex kind of magic. Basically, you morph one area into something else entirely for a certain amount of time, and when people are in this artificial area, they become ‘players’ or ‘actors’ in the Scenario. People trapped in a Scenario have their usual reason and logic skewered by the Scenario, as if a compelling power forced you to act or think a certain way.”
“...Isn’t that really dangerous? That’s practically modifying the thoughts and emotions of people!”
“Yeah, it’s very powerful, and hence why it is so complex and difficult. I consider myself pretty skilled in magic, but I cannot make any sort of Scenario Witchery. That Cupid was really something else. She was using her Scenario to make couples come together, but she really could’ve just made the Scenario ‘a bloodbath where lovers become unable to believe each other and then devolved into brutal violence, with one or both dying’, if she so wished. Scenario Witchery is forbidden due to how it can be used, hence why it’s ‘witchery’ and not ‘magic’.” explained Aimi, serious for once. “...I’m glad she’s using it benevolently, but... No mere Cupid can just handle Scenarios... And even then, her magic felt very grim, it had me on edge, but...”
“...Aimi?”
“...It doesn’t matter anymore. Hey, can we go to your place? I’d like to let auntie and uncle know the good news.”
“N-not so fast, bucko! We should keep it under wraps for now!”
“Haha! I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but still, I wanna hang out.”
“Hehe, yeah, of course! I found a pretty good band last night, I wanna show you their first album, ‘cause their latest one sucks, but their early stuff is absolutely your kinda deal.”
“Ohh, cool! What kinda stuff do they do? I swear if you show me enka again like the last time you said you found some real gold, I’m gonna...”
The new couple laughed and talked their way home peacefully, each with an arm around each other, each with their lips curved into a genuine smile.
--
11:30 pm.
Along the empty back roads of Meguro, a single woman, carrying another woman over her shoulder, made her way across the night, many closed businesses to her right, the empty street to her left. February 14th, Valentine’s Day, where everyone was sharing a moment with their loved ones. This could count as sharing a moment, if you really squint, because it’s not every day you say an Angel hoist a hogtied Oni atop her shoulder. “Alright, we’re far enough.” Finally setting Nahoko down, Astra cut her bindings and finally freed her. “Nice acting, knucklehead. Sure had them fooled.”
“...But it seems I couldn’t fool ya, hah! How did ya know?” the Oni asked, once again producing her favorite pipe to smoke from.
“That Love Arrow was calibrated for a human. There’s no way an Oni would be in the least affected by a Love Arrow that weak, between your own high magic resistance and an Oni’s natural poison resistance. I’d need something like a .905 SSK caliber Love Arrow round to affect you.”
“Well, caught me with the fingernails in the pot.” admitted Nahoko, lifting her arms in mock surrender.
“It was actually really helpful. You wanted to really rile up the fox, and it paid off. Your next drink is on me, Nahoko. You really have my thanks. And with that... We’re done. Congratulations.” said the Angel, warmth in her voice.
“Aw, sweet, I am going to bankrupt you! Bwahaha, but, yeah, japes aside, good shit, Astrael, that went well. Got bumpy for a bit, but it went well. It honestly was tons of fun. I’m actually kinda sad this job’s over.” Nahoko commented as she tried to get on her feet, but when she tried to get up on her left leg, the Oni winced and dropped back to the floor.
“Are you ok? I guess the pain from those blows wasn’t fully an act. Here, let me give you a hand.”
“Ah, no no, I’m mostly fine, but my left leg... These spikes? Well, they are real.”
“Wait, what?” The Angel was puzzled. “I thought they were just part of your outfit.”
“...Well, that’s kinda what I hope people think, but I, uh... Well, I fucked up a long time ago, and it’s kinda related to why I accepted this job. This is a curse I fully deserve, ‘cause I did something really dumb a long time ago, a crime of passion, one might say, and got cursed with this as a result. This is the least of my problems, though, the real curse is livin’ with the fact that I... Well, doesn’t matter now.”
They were finally outside of the hotel where Astra was staying. With a motion, Astra invited her in, to which Nahoko nodded. In Astra’s room, the conversation continued. “I’m not gonna press you for questions, but, hey, Nahoko, are you going do something after this?”
“It’s back to the vagabond’s life for me, really. As I said before, I just took this job on a whim, and... Well, to make amends, I suppose.”
“Well, if you aren’t going to do anything, I want to hire you.” bluntly stated the sniper. “I’ll pay you well, too. I have a sponsor, after all. I realized my objective is much more easily achieved with a partner, and you know the land and the people’s customs. I am very much a foreigner, after all, so having someone native would really help.”
Nahoko’s boisterous face finally softened a bit as she heard Astra’s offer, before finally bursting in a goofy guffaw. “Hah! Hahaha! Bwaaahaha! You for real, girl? A Cupid and an Oni, shittin’ around ol’ Nippon’s highways, shootin’ love at people? Pushin’ inexperienced people towards their happily ever afters? Well, fuck, aight, it’s not like I got anything else goin’, honestly, sure! Sign me the fuck up, cap’n!” The Oni’s laughter, still boisterous as ever, was also very warm right now, the kind of warmth that comes from finding purpose, and maybe, just maybe, atonement.
“Then, it’s settled. I, Astrael, hereby appoint you, Nahoko of Mount Ooe, as my Assistant Cupid. Now go get a bath, you’ll stay here. You’ve had enough of sleeping in caves and under bridges, I take?”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice! Be right back!”
As the Oni got in the bath, Astra pulled out her phone and hit call. “...Hey, it’s me. Oh, it all went swimmingly. The Scenario will be dispelled in just a couple of minutes, at midnight. Yeah. Yeah. No, no problem. Also, something else, ma’am, I’ve decided to hire an Oni to help me with my next tasks. Yeah, I figured you’d laugh like this and would be ok with it. Mmhm, if it’s not much trouble, I will need additional funds to pay her and all. Alright, that’s all, talk to you later, then, Inari.”
With a “that’s settled, then” face, Astra finally put down her rifle and various sidearms, sitting on her bed and stretching. It had been a long three weeks, and a hell of a way to conclude them, but she finally had managed to turn Valentine’s into a memorable experience for many couples that would otherwise still be twiddling their thumbs. With a content sigh, Astra finally relaxed, and the bathroom’s door swung open. “Hey, Nahoko, I already talked to the boss, she said it’s fiWoah what who are you”
Out of the bathroom, covered only in a towel too tiny for a woman that big, came out an absolutely gorgeous woman with long and smooth hair as black as midnight cascading around her curvaceous, voluptuous frame, smooth pale skin, striking red eyes, and light pink lips that one could feel their softness with just one’s eyes. Turns out, when she’s not wearing those tacky bells and bones, or the war paint, or the mix and match clothes, the messy ponytail, or anything else, Nahoko looked quite stupendous, or so Astra thought, anyways, if we go by her complete lack of words and powerful stare. An unwashed savage who smelled of sake and grime entered the bathroom, but a supermodel came out. Notably, the spikes that jutted out of Nahoko’s leg were retracting right in front of her eyes.
“I can at least pull these back for a limited about of time, which is useful whenever I wanna sleep without fuckin’ shredding futons or beds, bwaha. Anyways, what were ya sayin’?”
“O-oh, nothing, you’re officially hired, that’s all. So, take the bed, I’ll sleep in the sofa today. This is a one person room, after all.”
“What’s with that? Nah, we’ll both take the bed, it’s cool.”
“What!? No, no, it’s not cool, I can take the sofa, I’ve slept in worse places.” argued the Angel, trying to find anywhere to look and just finding herself more and more flustered. “Anyways, good night, we gotta get up early tomorr--!”
As she tried to make a beeline towards the couch, the long and strong arms of the almost naked Oni scooped her up and trapped her, pressing her against her dangerous body, still warm, wet, and steaming from the bath. “Oh no, ya don’t! Why the hell would ya take the couch? We can take the bed, there’s plenty space in it for both of us.”
“That’s not what this is abOh Lord I know I’ve forsaken you but please help me” she immediately cried mid-sentence when she found her face pressed against the Oni’s chest, a chest that had to have been hand crafted by the best and most libidinous artisan in the world. “--Anyways, it’s just not right to share beds, we don’t even know each other that well!”
“Oh, what, really?” Nahoko wondered, unaware that she was subjecting Astra to a Full Contact Skinship Torture. “We’ve known each other for three weeks, though? That’s plenty, girl. Back in Mount Ooe, us underlings had to use the smaller caves, and there were plenty of us, so it usually was the case that three or four of us had to sleep together, bundled on one mat or somethin’. We hadta be thrifty with space usage, so we came up with many ways to do so. This bed, for example...” Nahoko, still with Astra pressed against her body, got in the bed, placing Astra on top of her, their bodies pressed together more than ever, one of the Oni’s arm tightly around Astra’s waist. “...Yeah, this works, see? One bed, two people, no problemo. Hell, we still have space, so we can even be luxurious and do this.”
“aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” is all that went on the Angel’s mind, who was trying her best to remain conscious through this carnal assault on her senses. While she fought her inner self, Nahoko got her off from on top of her and put her on her side, instead, slinging an arm around her and hugging her tightly, making the two of them fit in the bed just right, Astra’s face buried against the tall woman’s collarbone, feeling very well how the rest of those dangerous curves pressed tightly against her own body, leaving nothing to the Angel’s imagination. “Oh my God I Am Going To Die.”
“See? We’re good like this. Aight, partner, see you in the mornin’, we gotta hit the road early, shoot ‘em Love Arrows, the works, right?”
“Y-yeah... Wait, no! I gotta take a bath! I’m all sweaty and--”
“Oh, don’t bother, what’s a little sweat between friends? See you tomorrow, Astra.” Nahoko chuckled, and then immediately went to sleep, her powerful arms hugging Astra so tightly and closely that the Angel couldn’t escape that voluptuous Alcatraz, no matter how hard she struggled.
Finally settling down and realizing the futility of her efforts, Astrael simply gave up and swung an arm around her new peer, pressing herself close and burying her face on the smooth skin of the Oni’s collarbone and top of her chest, a muffled “Thank you God but also fuck you, I’m supposed to Cupid” escaping her lips as she decided she might as well enjoy this, given she had no chance but to last until morning like this.
This wasn’t why she decided to hire her, but it certainly didn’t hurt for Cupid to find someone of her own on such an eventful Valentine’s Day.
It goes without saying she didn’t sleep a wink.
--
The rumbling of the truck’s engine waiting by the hotel’s door accompanied the sounds coming from the radio as Nahoko loaded their luggage.
“We’re checked out, packed up and ready, boss!”
“Don’t call me boss, just refer to me normally.”
“Heh, thought so, Astrael.”
“...Astra’s fine.”
The Oni just smiled. “Aww, lookitchu, being nice and shit. Well, Astra, where are we goin’ next?”
“Shinagawa sounds nice, doesn’t it? It’s more populous than Meguro, so we’re sure to find people in their post-Valentine’s blues.”
“Ooh, aimin’ for the target while they are down, huh? I like it. Sounds good to me, let’s be their coincidence, their first push!”
“...The convenient little event they need to take that first step.”
Bumping their fists, Astrael stepped on the gas, and off they went, the two Love Legionnaires, Angel and Oni, off to cause some trouble to greenhorn little pansies that wish to be lovers, to be their coincidences.
