31. Misfit Love
「Mayumi」
It’s a thing of height. An identical copy, concrete and glass, poured into a ready made form, casting a row of towers with the all hallmarks of aspirational modernity. The things you’re supposed to look out for, the things you’re told to care about. Chie’s place has them. Sterile, manicured vegetation on the outside, forest wallpaper for the animals in the zoo, artifice for the easily fooled. Filled with the important amenities one would find printed and promoted on glossy pages, the ones they give to you as they bow deeply. You pay for that privilege.
Chie calls herself lucky to be able to live here. To have a decent job that pays enough for a decent place. Better off than most girls like us, she says.
Storage. Warehouses for the merchandise and flats for the tools that produce it. Lockboxes of a different name. Here you stay, until it is your time to be used again. Rest. But not for your benefit. Your needs are not to be considered, yet your basic functionality is to be maintained in the name of the company. Do not let yourself become broken.
I enter through a lobby of shining glass and stainless steel. The elevator takes me upward, opening into a hall of grey carpets and white walls. Inoffensive.
I count the numbers as I go.
The basic building blocks of society.
Addresses. ID numbers. Room numbers. In this world you're nothing, if not a number. Wear your net worth like a badge of pride. Valuable tools don’t get thrown away.
I slip my key into the lock, and enter Chie’s flat.
“It's me.”
I let her know.
She knew I was coming, but I give her the warning anyway. Our little nerd is a jumpy thing. Scares easy. I hate to see it.
She lets me know that she’s in her office.
Her flat is simple. The same copy-pasted layout that’s assigned to all well-behaved worker ants. Two bedrooms, joined by an open space. Kitchen and living room all in one. All white painted walls and faux-wood. There isn't much in the way of decoration. Chie doesn't think about such things. Too in her own head. Everything she owns is a tool to her, chosen for durability, not appearance.
The only spots of life here are what me and Haruki gave her. A colorful folded blanket on the couch, next to a stuffed penguin that Haruki won for her at a fair. A couple paintings that I found with Haruki's dad. Without us, this place would be all drab furniture and hospital-chic.
I enter the office.
She's sitting at her desk. Three monitors in front of her, surrounded by the torn and dissected remains of what technology was unfortunate enough to cross her path. A mad scientist, piecing together haphazard remains to form something new and shambling. Even now her eyes are locked to her screen, fingers furiously typing.
I step beside her, and my fingers sink into the soft, boyish cut of her dark hair. My nails scratch at the back of her neck, pulling a contented sigh from her. Her eyes finally leave the computer, that adorable wide-eyed look traveling up to land on me.
“H… Hi,” she says with a smile.
My lips rise into a smirk. “Hi nerd.”
My nails travel up her scalp and her eyes shut with a little groan. She looks so precious like this, so soft and gentle. Another image of her flashes in my mind, one where we were surrounded by the shroud of darkness, and anger floods me, anger at myself.
“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” I murmur.
Her eyes open, warm brown filled with confusion.
“The hunt,” I clarify, “When those fuckers tricked us.”
“Oh.” She blinks. “I… thank you… I-”
I silence her with a finger over full lips. She isn't used to being apologized to. Every time she gets one, her brain short circuits. It would be cute, if it wasn't so fucking sad.
“Don't.” I gesture at the screen. “What are you doing?”
I sit on the armrest of her chair, playing with her hair as she talks. Since her work computer ‘disappeared’ due to a ‘trickery demon’ she’s gotten leave to do her work from home until they get a new one for her.
I don't listen to the specifics. Something broke, and she fixed it. That's how it always goes down. Instead my mind wanders. It's been nearly a year since we've started this little arrangement. I still remember when it had become clear that she and Haruki were far more close than they should be. The memory brings me a smile. I'd cornered her. Asked what her game was. If she thought she could take Haruki from me.
She’d nearly started crying. Not because I had scared her, though she was scared at the time, but because the thought of hurting either me or Haruki was too much for her to handle. It had surprised me. She was upset because she thought she’d hurt me.
I didn't get it. Why did she give a shit? I said as much.
Despite being upset, she had answered with unexpected boldness.
‘I would never take someone you love from you. Because… I care for you. I care for both of you. I… I want you both.’
Plot twist of the century.
In the end it was simple. Me and Haruki were together, while Chie belonged to both of us, yet she was not really with me or Haruki. I need my space, she said. A place that's mine. A place where she doesn't have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing. Somewhere safe.
The fact that she allows me in her place of safety doesn't go over my head. I didn't understand at first, but almost a year later, I do now. She trusts me in her little lockbox. The place that’s hers, and hers alone.
It's what Haruki wants. A place that’s hers, something she made—or earned. Whatever. But unlike our girl, she wants it for proof. Proof that she's worth something. Haruki's parents never made her feel like she needed to earn her place. I know that for certain. No, it was this fucked up world that did that. She still doesn't get it. She isn't a tool—doesn't need a number, doesn't need a value, but she doesn't understand. Their hooks are too deep. No matter. I'll save her too. They will not take her from me.
“What's wrong?” Chie asks, doe-eyed again. She catches on to mood shifts quick.
“Why do you think we can make A-rank?”
That seems to catch her off guard. She blinks at me, lips parting.
“W—why do you ask?”
“Just tell me.”
Her throat bobs, but she dutifully answers. As good as ever.
“Look.” She opens a file on her computer, pulling up a document. On it are pictures of our faces, along with a list of skills. In the margins there are many notes about synergies and complements and… whatever the fuck a force-multiplier is. It all ends with the last entry, Katsumi.
She begins.
“Before Katsumi, I didn’t really think we had a shot. Our team composition was solid. Two ranged, one heavy melee, and one support. Versatile enough to face any challenge, or retreat without losses, should we bite off more than we can chew. But… we are just a bunch of random girls. All the A-ranks, and 80% of the B-ranks, come from money. They can afford the good hunters gear that lets them take on the A and B classes solo and not die.”
“Right. I said as much.”
Without good gear, none of us could take on an A-class solo for our rank up fight. At best we could do B, but not A.
She grimaces.
“Yeah. If your family was supportive, then maybe…” She trails off, warily glancing at the scowl on my face. “But, since that isn’t feasible. I didn’t really consider it a possibility before.”
I narrow my eyes. “What changed?”
“Katsumi.”
“She’s just a-”
“Look.” She clicks a link on the document and it opens up a graph with a zig-zag up and down pattern. It makes no sense to me.
I huff.
“What is this?”
“Katsumi’s mana reserves over about thirty minutes. While we were fighting some F-classes. It recharges! Fast! Not hours or days, but minutes and seconds.”
My brows raise to my hairline as I study the graph more closely. A note on the side says that the error rate or whatever is 5-10% but that doesn’t mean fuck when I see the part where katsu-chan’s mana went from 3% to 62% in a few seconds.
What the fuck?
“How?”
Chie stays silent and when I look back, she's blushing.
“Umm… compliments… Well! Not… really, more… gender affirmation, I think?”
“You think?”
“Yeah, the big jump here? It was because I… uh, told her she was pretty. And Mayumi, she went from practically unconscious to wide-awake like that.”
She snaps her fingers.
“Huh… no shit.”
“You see now? She’s not just our quick-melee to complement Haruki’s strong-melee. She's our ace! The centerpiece around which the rest of us can maneuver! She’s a fighter that doesn't run out of mana! A massive force-multiplier! With her we can take on targets far above our rank!”
I shake my head at her tactical jargon, but I definitely heard her last sentence. Something hot burns in my chest. The feeling that burns through me when I put down a demon.
“Not A-classes though, apparently.”
Chie’s arms go around herself protectively. I still remember that day clearly. How we’d looked each other in the eye and known that that would be the end. My skin burns at the memory. I brush soothing circles against her neck with a thumb, throwing out my unease. Chie was right. The way our team's set up lets us book it should we get in a fight we can't win. Even with an A-class.
I need to get Hotaru a gift or some shit…
What I'm seeing now though is something else. As much as I distrust her gadgets, I know she’s not lying. Katsumi’s held her own against several demons above her rank already.
A fix just dropped into my lap. Haruki needs more than what we are now. If she could take down C-classes solo, then it’d be no issue, but with the five-way-split she's barely making any money. A B-class though… B-classes are ten times as powerful, but also pay ten times the rate. Even with a five-way split, she'd make enough for a month's rent.
If we play it right, then she gets her independence, and I get to put down the real scum. The ones powerful enough to get away with it. B-classes who like to hide in plain sight. Pretend to be human. Blend in. I’ll rip them out of their holes. Me and my girls.
Chie clears her throat.
“There’s also this.” She clicks around and pulls up a web page. A disgustingly saccharine corporate monstrosity that somehow manages to be happy and boring at once. A real assault on the eyes. The name heading the thing reads:
Kojou Enterprises.
These assholes? They're well known, especially in the circles my family runs in. Mother would have field day. I raise an eyebrow at Chie but she says, “Wait,” and clicks some more. Then, right there is the woman from the Hunter's Guild, Katsumi's sister. I read her title under the picture.
“Vice President!” I shout at the screen.
“Yeppp.”
“The fuck is Katsumi doing living in a shoebox?! Are you telling me one of the richest families in the damn city kicked her out with fucking nothing?!”
Chie's hand squeezes my thigh. “Are you really that surprised?”
No. I'm fucking not. All those aristocratic fucks are decrepit fossils with views older than the emperor's palace. Of course they kicked out their trans daughter without a single yen to her name.
Fuck, I want to kill something.
With an angry huff I turn away from the queen bitch on the screen.
“Fuck them. Ugh. So… what now? You wanna to try going for B-classes?”
Chie frowns.
“Maybe. It would have to be a weaker one though. Like the one at the water park. Anything with actual powers would kill us as we are.”
I only nod as she continues speaking.
“But our real problem is finding them. Patrols are fine for F and D-Classes, but all the experienced hunters have ways to get tipped off for the C and B-classes, before an alert goes up on the hunter's app. Competition is fierce for B's especially. Just one is five months rent for my place. The B-ranks usually snap them up the moment they get a whiff."
“Shit. We need contacts. More than Ikushima.”
“Yeah.” Chie looks at the screen, then back again. Worrying her lower lip. “Mayumi? Why do you care all of a sudden? You haven't before.”
She almost sounds upset.
“I have cared. I’ve backed you up since the beginning."
“Not like this. Not enough to… ask. About my ideas.”
My lips tighten at her sad expression. I didn't know it meant so much.
“It's Haruki.”
I tell Chie what she told me. How that brilliant and perfect woman thinks she has no other purpose than risking her life for scraps. And sure, we would always hunt. These vermin need to be cleared from the streets. But the fact that that's all she thinks she can do, when it is so fucking clear she’s worthy of so much more… it pulls the words from me. I'm nearly spitting in the air from the anger and injustice of it all.
When I turn on Chie, she looks just about as angry, but more sad.
“I told her I could try and get her work in my field. I've worked with people much more abrasive than her, but… she said she would hate it. That she knows from what I told her of it, and I get it. It's not for everyone. "
A long sigh leaves me.
“You know…” Chie begins slowly, worrying her lip again. “I… well… I wanted—well, I was thinking that… maybe, you and her could… move in?”
I blink.
“Say again?”
“You and Haruki. Move in. With… me.” Her eyes dart around the room, not daring to land on me. “You… well, you hate your family and Haruki…”
“Haruki loves her family. It would be a hard sell.”
“Y—yeah… but, she wants to be more independent, right? Living with us would be that.”
I frown at that. “She might not see it that way.”
She sighs sadly, shoulders falling.
“Why do you want this all of a sudden?” I ask. “I thought you needed your space.”
Her mouth opens, closes. “I… I do. It honestly scares me to not have it, but…”
I grasp her chin and force her gaze to mine. “But what?”
She wavers under the intensity, but her inner boldness shines through, just a little. Just like before.
“I… When you and Haruki were taken I,” she swallows. “I kept wondering if I would be too late. That I would find you… dead. And I realized that… that I don’t want to be apart from either of you. Not if I can help it.”
Her lovely doe eyes are shimmering. I wipe away the tear before it can fall. “What do you want, Chie?”
“I want you to stay with me. You and her. I want us to be…” She struggles to say it. “More.”
Warmth spreads in my chest. So surprising, this girl. Ya never know what to expect sometimes.
“Good girl.” I reward her with a kiss. Hot, yet gentle. When I pull away, I grin at the fierce blush on her cheeks. “We'll talk more about it. Probably a disgusting amount…”
Who knew polyamory had so much fucking talking involved?
“...but for now…” I stand and pull her to her feet. “Come. Watch a movie with me.”
“But… I'm working!”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you though?”
She glances at the screen. “Well…”
I grab her arm and pull her away.
────୨ৎ────
“You really had to pick the girliest one, huh?”
Her doe eyes look up at me from where she lays on my chest, snuggled up on the couch, under our blanket with my arms wrapped around her.
“Stop! It's my favorite!”
I playfully narrow my eyes on the TV, where Star Sailor Deluxe is about a third of the way through. A show for teen girls, dipped in the standard bright rainbow-vomit color palate all of them are known for. The redeeming quality being that it features a surprisingly queer cast, sailing through the solar system on a somehow-functional sailing ship and defeating evil with the power of girlhood or some shit. Maybe that’s how Chie likes to view herself... or us.
Already the main character, the orphan girl from a backwater planet, has been taken in by the tall and confident captain, and the two are obvious love interests. These movies have all the subtlety of a hammer through a window; in this case it might be to its benefit.
“I can see why,” I say, watching the captain closely instruct the main character in how to wield a laser-sword, “But the production quality is so bad.”
The animation is of the maximum costcutting variety and the voice actresses bring the distinct enthusiasm of not getting paid.
“It's a cult classic!”
“Right… cause ya need to be brainwashed to enjoy it.”
"It was the first openly lesbian movie to be made!"
Her confidence is adorable. I glance at the clearly low-budget film again.
"That much is obvious."
There are others, older ones in black and white with real actors, of destined lovers declaring their undying love for one another over and over again based on even older theater plays, but they are too artsy and slow for our cute egghead I suspect. Her hyperactive mind would wither in boredom. Still something to be rectified on a later date. If she gets to antsy I’ll let her game on her phone or something.
“You're one to talk,” she pouts, “You don't like anything without scary shit or gore.”
“Do not! I also like those cool movies. You know, the ones where a hot woman kills a bunch of people?”
“You're so typical.”
“Not all of us can be as surprising as you, nerd.”
“Normal, you mean?”
I chuckle bursts from my chest. “You? Normal? Who knew you had jokes?”
She grumbles under her breath, and I pull her tight, whispering in her ear, “Besides, don't pretend you don't like clinging to me whenever you get scared.”
Her now-red face is lit up like a firework. Any more and I'd be worried she'd explode. In a show of mercy, I kiss the top of her head and return my attention to the movie.
The main character is in her first battle now, facing off against their enemy, some evil corps or some shit. The plot slips my mind. Something about a mcguffin that can let some corporate fucks screw over their workers more.
We deviate by the main villain not being a bunch of old bastards, but a hot woman in the standard all-black evil catsuit. She bests the newbie in a swordfight, to no one's suprise. But what does get me is when the villain taunts the captain… because she's her ex.
Well.
Now that's interesting.
After the battle, we get an emotional conversation with the captain. Where she reveals a past Tragic Betrayal from the ex, before they launch into a training montage.
My eyes wander across the bland scenery of the flat.
“Chie, you know if I'm moving in, I will be redecorating this whole bitch.”
“Does it count as redecorating if there's no decorations?”
My brows raise, though she can't see.
“So you are aware of how fucking barren it is in here? And here I thought you really were blind.” I wiggle the frame of her glasses a bit.
She scoffs.
“Why would I decorate? Waste of money.”
“Hopeless…” I mumble.
I shut up after that. The show continues, and this time my mind wanders. What would it be like to live here? Its a far cry from the shared apartment or my parent's place, that's for fucking sure. No overpriced decor, no haughty stares, or pretentious whining. Fuck, it sounds like paradise already. And to top it all off, I get this girl to come home to? Haruki too? Does it sound too good to be true? Maybe. But…
My lungs empty in a heavy sigh, and with the air goes some feeling of… weight. Had I been holding it this whole time?
Maybe I need something good.