Mind Games - Chapter 18

“-okay, so level with me,” I spoke aloud, pulling out various bits and pieces I'd need in a fit of last-minute preparation. “What kind of mess am I dealing with?”

“Asking a question like that after giving me the sample size you have is effectively like producing a picture of a feral dog or cat – not even the organism itself – and asking me to tell you about all life on Earth,” Velma replied tiredly. “As incomprehensible and unknowable as the rules by which they operate are, the eldritch have a similar kind of diversity in them to more mundane lifeforms.”

“Alright,” I replied, looking over my bag and shoving a few more things into it, “can you tell me whatever you know from the scans you got, then?”

“I can tell you that the provisional Danger Rating for this world has been officially changed to a six instead of a four with a further upgrade pending and dependent on more data being collected,” Velma replied, noisily slurping from something. With her personality, I guessed strong coffee or tea. “Which means you're not going to be working off a loan, for what it's worth.”

“I'd like that in writing and properly notarized, please,” I droned, taking a moment to lean against my bookcase and study my surroundings.

“Comments like that almost make me think you don't trust us, Hitoshi.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

Velma scoffed. “That hack wishes he had half the reach The Company does.”

Point. They probably employ a dozen different versions of the guy – girl – whatever. Or more.

“Not something you should be bragging about, first off,” I stated, sighing. “Next, this is a digression. What am I facing?”

“Well... it's definitely eldritch, we can say that much,” Velma replied, her fingers clacking against a keyboard. “This isn't man-in-a-mask style villainy and that wasn't someone with a particularly strange quirk you faced last night.”

“Good to know, I suppose,” I granted cautiously. “Anything else?”

“Not much. Eldritch entities of all types and stripes tend to operate on their own rules. Their own, very personalized rules.” She paused abruptly. “For a given value of 'person' in this instance. Anyway, the point is that what works on one might not work on another. Or might not work on the same one in a different situation.”

“'The oldest and most strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown,'” I quoted off fluidly. “You're not telling me anything I don't already know, Velma.”

“Okay, being blunt about this, it's not really my job to tell you anything you do or don't know. I am, at best, usually expected to walk some idiot through the standard tech support spiel because said idiot never read the manual and could have fixed his own problem if he had,” she stated curtly, taking another audible swig from her cup. “I recognize the fact that you're on your own in a situation you didn't sign up for, Hitoshi, but if we're going to have a productive relationship going forward, then you need to recognize that this branch of The Company is only rated for DR 5 and below canon worlds. That means I'm only trained on DR 5 and below canon worlds. So I'm winging it as much as you are.”

I hummed, considering the words. “For the sake of my own survival, fine. I apologize for my conduct just now.”

Velma sniffed. “Just now? Not for the entire mission.”

“No.”

“I'll take what I can get, then,” Velma sighed. “Ji-eeezus Christ, okay... you're probably looking at a low-eldritch world. So I'd expect there to be some kind of masquerade being enforced. This is just my personal evaluation, but I'd put money on whatever happened to the metaphysical environment of this world to bring about the dawn of the age of quirks having some unintended side effect and bringing eldritch entities into or close to this world.”

I thought about it for a moment. “That means the historical archive I've sent you lines up with a non-divergent standard reality until the Glowing Baby, then?”

“That's the general idea that the Cortana we had go over it spat back,” Velma hummed. “Or, at least the publicly-recorded history. You know how these things are.”

“I mean, not really,” I said, reaching up to massage my forehead. “But I understand the theory of convergent timeline development, at least.”

IE: The most boring possible interpretation of the Many Worlds Theory.

However, in the infinite omniverse, all things were true. As annoying as it was to confront in practice, that seemed at first glance what we were dealing with here. Even if it made no sense for you to run into Teddy Roosevelt or George HW Bush in a world-line with millennia-old cults praying to dark gods beyond time and space, well...

 If you had enough cosmic monkeys on enough universal typewriters, you'd eventually get a cluster of realities where the only noticeable, recorded difference was the stitching pattern on Jesus' sandals... outside of the shadow world of ancient conspiracies no one knew about. It was apparently one of those hyper-nihilistic mindfuck puzzles that The Company handed out in their Basic Training to weed out people who were bothered by the concept that the whole 'Free Will' thing might not matter after all.

 “So, what... you think a group of cultists or something tried to start an apocalypse, botched it, and the resulting metaphysical shenanigans manifested in quirks?” I asked, not entirely skeptical of the idea.

“I'm not paid to hypothesize points of divergence for superhero universes,” Velma replied stoically. “No, scratch that. You couldn't pay me enough to do that job. I've seen the turnover rate and brain bleach gets expensive after a while.”

I opened my mouth to reply, then thought better of it. There was too much in that sentence for even me to unpack, especially right now. Instead, I changed tracks. “I have the damndest feeling you're going to end this conversation by telling me that I'm doing an excellent job, keep it up, and there's no way for you to help me anymore than you have been.”

“Don't be silly, I'm going to say that right now and then end the conversation by reminding you that you have unspent Company Credits,” Velma replied cheerily.

I groaned. “Fuck, fine. Pocket Apartment, both levels.”

 There was a flurry of typing. “You do have a mission available to reimburse you for one tier of that purchase. Do you still want to make this purchase or would you rather buy one level and complete the mission for the second?”

“I'd rather purchase both levels right now and complete the mission for the refund later,” I replied. “I've bookmarked the design I want for my apartment on my device, by the way. Oh, any chance I could get a personal home-defense armory loaded into it?”

Velma hummed. “I'm technically allowed to include a handgun and shotgun with the purchase, but you'll be on your own for ammo after the initial box. If you want the refilling cache or the full armor you'll have to shell out for Sweet Home. Which, I'll add, you do have the credits for.”

 “I want to keep a rainy day fund,” I shook my head, even if she couldn't see me. “I can still purchase one more template for myself, right?”

“One more,” Velma emphasized. “The reason the newer contracts escalate pricing on those is because people started turning their souls into pretzels loading up so many of them. You're already over the recommended limit for a new agent, but between the synergy they've got going and the amount of Defenses you're running, you probably won't explode if we jam something else in your metaphysiology.”

“Awesome,” I nodded. Besides, the template probably wasn't going to be for me, anyway.

“Anything else?” Velma asked instead, still chipper and caffeinated.

“Not for now, I guess.” I sighed and then, almost against my better judgment, added. “Thanks.”

“You're quite welcome. Happy Hunting, Contractor,” she replied.

I rolled my eyes and cut the call.

Then took a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling a meditative calm come over me in the predawn quiet of the early morning. “I'm not going to agonize over things I can't change. I'm not going to piss and moan like a bitch. I had a choice, I made it, now I have to live with it.”

Even if a deal made while you're bleeding out from a car crash isn't really a 'choice.'

Holding my bag up, I hit the mental trigger to shift it into my personal dimensional pocket and nodded in satisfaction as it disappeared into that folded space.

I'd check out my new apartment later.

I opened the door and spun my keys on one finger, the metal chiming against itself as it smacked into my palm with each rotation. “Hey Dad, heading out for the day.”

There was a small clatter of pots and pans as my father tried to casually prepare breakfast for himself. “A-ah, Hitoshi! I, uh-heard you in your room. I didn't know you were leaving quite this early!”

Guilt and worry clouded the room, a thick and invisible miasma.

I refrained from rolling my eyes as I grabbed two of my premade breakfast burritos from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave. “Uh-huh. So you weren't listening at my door a few minutes ago?”

Niko flinched and almost dropped another pot, then sighed. “Hi-Hitoshi... I was just... I'm your father. It's my job to worry.”

Which is one reason I'm buying the apartment early instead of waiting to complete the mission.

“I won't tell you not to,” I decided to say, scratching my neck anxiously as the microwave hummed in the otherwise silent kitchen. “But this isn't really something you can help with, Dad.”

Niko sighed and rubbed at his jaw tiredly. “...what was that language you were speaking? I didn't recognize it.”

“High Sylvan,” I answered with a shrug. “It's... the tongue of the ruling nobility of the Courts of Faerie. Think... western yokai. The language, though... isn't really local.”

Fear came in, like a northern gale as it battered the cold light of a resolute sun.

Niko hummed again, thoughtfully. “Can I... ask about some things? Just... nothing major, but from time to time, if I have questions?”

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, taking care to remain facing the spinning plate in the glowing box humanity prayed to daily for hot meals. “That means you gave up figuring out where I pulled the bunny from?”

Niko snorted, seeming to surprise himself at the action. “I... ah, let's say I'm trying to be more open-minded about things.”

“Then I guess...” I hesitated, chewing on the thought for a moment. “Ask about as much as you think you can handle. Keeping in mind that this is something I have to handle myself.”

Niko paused, considering the ultimatum. “I'll... think on it, then.”

The microwave dinged and I stepped up to remove the burritos from it. Then dropped the plate in front of my father before picking one of them up in a folded paper towel. “Whatever you think is best, but eat this instead of whatever store-bought processed crap you were going to heat up, okay? We both know these are better for you.”

Finally, finally... the turbulence in the room abated somewhat, melting into placid warmth.

“Ah... thanks, Hitoshi.” Niko flushed and scratched at his head. “I, ah... looked over the new contract you left when you got home last night. It looks good, but there are a few things I want to go over with you later tonight or tomorrow. Sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” I echoed, the words somewhat muffled by the bite of food in my mouth. Pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, I dumped some in after the burrito and swallowed. “You should let that sticky mess I made of those pots soak in the sink and I’ll take care of them when I get back. I'm heading out now, okay?”

Dad nodded, his eyes glancing over the evil candy-coated mess I’d left with a flicker of amusement before picking his own breakfast up gingerly. “Be careful and don't do anything dangerous.”

I snorted, grinning. “If I was going to abide by your definition of dangerous, old man, I wouldn't leave the house.”

My tone took the sting from the words, though the faint tang of bittersweet ozone pervaded the air. A warning before the storm. Still, there was enough of that good-weather vibe remaining that I didn't worry.

Then I was out of the house and into the true cold morning weather of late January. Thankfully, the winter had been fairly mild and the last of the snow had worn down to ice a week prior. Now the streets were simply chilly with small patches of frozen water here and there. The immediate forecast, though, was for a cloudless day as warm as it could feasibly get this time of year.

Which made it perfect for an outdoor activity.

One relatively quick train ride later, Himiko casually appeared in my field of view far too close for it to have been anything but a deliberate act to avoid my notice and make a statement. Atypical for the girl, she was wearing long thick pants that had seen better days, a pair of sturdy shoes, and a worn coat with a few buttons missing. The only thing that looked like it was a part of her usual ensemble was the pink scarf with white rabbits holding red hearts spaced regularly over the fabric.

“These clothes are not cute.”

My lips twitched as I suppressed a smirk. “Thrift shop?”

Himiko pranced to my side, the movement a fluid dancer's motion. “I had to have the store hold them for me so I could come in and change this morning.”

 Instantly, my amusement faded. “Sorry about making things difficult for you. Did your parents give you any other trouble about today?”

That fake smile slithered across her face. “Nope! They thought I looked totally cute in my date outfit! As long as I come home with you for dinner, they'll be happy!”

I nodded, then thumbed towards the train. “Alright, let's go then. We've got an hour's ride on the bullet train before we get to where we're going. Hope you brought something to read or listen to.”

Himiko rolled her eyes and hefted the bag containing her change of clothing over her shoulder. It too, looked 'ruggedly worn' if you were being charitable. “I looked up what you said we're doing today on Herotube. It didn't look very fun. Or cute.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “You remember how you didn't think you were going to like the movie I took you to? And you liked it?”

Gold eyes glittered irritably as she crossed her arms, following me across the threshold of the boarding area. Thankfully, we were both early enough and on an outbound train to the country, both factors meaning there were few people around us. Even still, the social taboo of making noise on the train forced us into near silence the moment we stepped onboard.

“I remember,” Himiko stated quietly, sitting next to me as the doors closed. She cocked her head at me, studying me up and down with open curiosity and a blank face. “You choose things you know I'll like. Things that not even I know I'll enjoy.”

“Hmm... are you comfortable with that?” I murmured, taking note that the only person within hearing range had a pair of earbuds in. “Is that something you can live with?”

Himiko frowned, kicking her feet listlessly as the train began moving. Part of her, likely, refusing to sit still outside of a place she'd marked as 'safe.' I could feel that part of her, the restless energy, build in time with her frustration. “I don't know.”

“Not knowing is fine,” I reassured her. “When you're in a relationship, you shouldn't force the other person to give you an answer they don't have yet. Patience is important. It lets the other person move along at their own pace. You can let me know when you have an answer. Still... I did promise I'd get you a gift when you gave me those sunglasses.”

I reached into my coat and pulled a medium bag of individually-wrapped hard candies out, holding them for her to take. Himiko smiled that blank smile, reaching for them-

Her nostrils flexed as she breathed in, and she froze, her eyes flicking rapidly between the clear bag and my face. “Th-these are...”

“I made them, especially for you,” I stated, my cheeks heating up just a little bit. I cleared my throat and extended them another inch, Himiko almost flinching from the bag. “I went down to a butcher and asked for a gallon from a pig. I thought about making something where the taste would come out clearer, but these will last longer and be less-”

In a motion as swift as a cat's paw, the blond reached out and snatched the bag from my grasp, instantly pulling off the red-white bow I'd put on it – see, I paid attention – and plucking one out to unwrap and put in her mouth. It took a moment for the non-stick powder coating to melt, but it was obvious when the flavor hit her tongue.

Her eyes went wide, she took a shuddering breath through her nose, and a soft whimper escaped her mouth.

Huh, guess I know what a drug dealer feels like now.

“Good?” I asked, both amused and bemused. I'd tried one, both as a test and reward, because making hard candies by hand sucked something awful, and while they were good as a kind of cherry/strawberry flavored candy, Himiko was obviously getting something special out of them.

“These are better than what the hospital gives me,” Himiko shuddered, relaxing against me. “I... thank you.”

“I'm glad you're enjoying them,” I replied with a smile. “I'll make you more whenever you want.”

Himiko looked up at me from where she was nestling against my side and stared at me with an unreadable expression... then unexpectedly dropped her head on my shoulder. “Your coat is soft. I'm gonna' nap.”

A declaration like that didn't really need a response, so I didn't bother. Instead, I snorted with faint amusement and pulled an earbud from my 'pocket' in a deft movement concealing the fact I'd drawn the small device from nowhere before cuing up some soft music for myself. The combination of that and the scent of strawberry shampoo wafting from Himiko's hair quickly lulled me near enough to sleep that I slipped into a meditative trance instead.

Even if what Himiko was doing wasn't really 'sleeping,' either.

She'd said 'nap,' after all, and her word-choice had been deliberate. If anything, it qualified as resting, even if she wasn't quite unconscious. Her body was moving too intently for me to believe that, small muscle groups regularly tensing and holding before slowly relaxing, an exercise to bleed off excess energy while remaining 'still.' It was probably one of the only useful things her quirk counselor had ever taught her. Either that or she'd just instinctively developed the skill herself at some point.

Given I did the same a lifetime ago, it's not out of the question. And the overall quality of her counseling points towards the latter rather than the former.

So... if she was still awake-ish...

Himiko could just be in the mood to otherwise entertain herself and legitimately be tired. She could be interested in seeing what I'd do while she was indisposed, both to amuse myself and given otherwise unfettered access to her 'unconscious' form. She could also be thinking over the question I'd asked her. Or trying to come up with the right questions to help her figure me out.

Or she could be doing all of the above at the same time.

Instead of pushing further, I simply allowed my head to slowly droop onto her own.

Eventually, after a bathroom break and a quick run to a vending machine during one of the stops, we arrived at the small country station and disembarked before making our way. From there, it was a ten minute walk to the dilapidated ruins of a pre-quirk section of the small village that had been turned into a walled-off area that...

I grimaced and stepped around something that wasn't there.

Sharp gold cat's eyes narrowed at my movement, briefly scanning the location I'd avoided and-

I caught Himiko's arm and shook my head as she was about to move through it. She frowned and looked back at the empty space. “What do you see?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was a ghost?” I asked, giving her a short tug towards the entrance of the large walled-off area.

“My parents don't like things like that,” Himiko stated bluntly. “They say they aren't real.”

...which was just as much a deflection as it was a warning not to bring the subject up later tonight, probably. “Lots of people say lots of things,” I replied instead. “That doesn't make them true or the people who said them right.”

Again, frustration mired Himiko's expression for a moment before she shifted back to the mask. “What do they look like? Are they cute?”

I raised an eyebrow, my eyes carefully tracing back towards the thing I'd avoided. It was human-enough for it to come from a human, but... to call it 'cute.' “I suppose it would depend on your tastes. Are you familiar with the idea of 'creepy cute' or 'grotesque cute?'”

Himiko blinked owlishly, then shook her head. “No? What's that?”

Hmm... wonder if Hot Topic survived the apocalypse?

“I'll show you some pictures later,” I promised, pulling a pair of tickets out of my 'pocket' and handing them to a perky-looking attendant at the gate. A quick scan of our tickets, a stamp on each of our hands, and we were quickly admitted.

Himiko's eyes cut left and right before reaching into her pocket and popping her third candy of the day. I knew she was trying to ration them, but the way she relaxed when the taste hit her tongue told me I'd need to make more of them soon enough.

“Okay, do either of you two have any experience with paintball?” Another of the site's attendant's asked us with a smile as we walked up to him.

“I have a little, but it's been a while,” I replied, then gestured to Himiko. “She doesn't have any.”

The girl obligingly shook her head.

Smiling at us, he gestured to the racks of gear. “Alright then, I'll run you through the safety lecture, then I'll explain your equipment options, and after that I'll turn you loose so you can decide if you want to join a team or go in the free-for-all area.”

We obligingly sat through the entire lecture and selected a pair of masks, guns, and a good supply of paintballs. I went ahead and prepaid for another five buckets of the things each given what was likely going to happen.

My girlfriend looked down at the pink gun she'd been given, staring through the equally-colorful mask, her body radiating nervous energy. I smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Everyone is going to be shooting everyone else, that's what this place is for. All you need to worry about is that and not getting shot yourself, okay?”

Himiko nodded tentatively.

…

Two hours later, I knew I'd made a horrible mistake.

The bodies of the paint-stained and terrified patrons of the paintball range lay in various states of shock and awe around me as I crept through the ruins of a hundred-year old building. Demoralization had set in across the forces I had arrayed against the coming darkness, for my efforts had come to naught.

“Hehehe~”

A broken and sobbing man in his fifties, his equipment bearing the mark of a professional of the sport, whimpered at the echo of ghostly-giggling.

Pressurized air rang out, cries of surprise and pain from the last of the defenders.

Thirty minutes in, the fools had not believed me when I'd offered portents of doom and destruction, when I'd tried to rally them against the End of Days. They had called me mad, thought me a fool to be scared of a single junior high school girl.

They have paid the price for their mistakes, now.

I alone had emerged unscathed, unstained with the crimson splatter of defeat.

“Not human... no way she's human...” Another professional paint-baller whispered to herself as she lay curled up in a corner, her eyes vacantly staring ahead at the unmarked graves of her comrades.

“Hi~to~shi~”

Dammit.

A shiver raced up my spine as I realized there was something very wrong with me to be enticed by that sing-song taunt, that siren's call tempting me to my own destruction. I wondered if it was perhaps the part of me that remembered being Saotome Ranma, who's infamous lack of self-preservation was the thing of legends. Even he had limits, though, and Kodachi had been one of them. Although... a younger Kodachi? One who hadn't fallen to madness yet?

Hmm... yeah, good strategy. Blame Ranma, it always worked for everyone else. Definitely not my own degenerate nature coming to the fore.

I dove, the sound of pressurized air releasing hitting my ears seconds afterward, proving that relying on my natural senses would only leave me among the slain and stained here and now. I leveled blind shots from my own gun as I advanced to remove myself from her line of sight.

Dive-duck-dodge-roll-

I felt the splatter of red plastic against wood follow me in an arc and traced my own weapon back across that path.

Finally, I threw myself through a hole in the shattered structure, took a breath, and jumped. I had to get the high ground-

A weight impacted me in the chest as I bounced off one of the reinforced 'dilapidated' structures, trying to gain height. Attaching itself like a limpet to me, arms and legs squeezing around me, we went down in a tangle of limbs, our respective guns spiraling off as they were discarded. Reflexively, I took the impact instead of rolling us. It left me short of breath, but the blinding smile Himiko was wearing as she tore off her headgear was more than enough of a reward.

Both sets of fangs were fully visible, her cheeks stretched to their limits as clean white rows of ivory were exposed. Her breath came in short pants as she giggled, her cheeks flushed with emotion and her golden eyes glimmering as she pressed her weight down on me.

One hand snatched at my mask, pulling it free as I grinned up at her, still catching my breath from having it knocked out of me.

“Got~you~hehe!” Himiko giggled, swaying slightly. “What should I do~oo now, hmm?”

I was still 'winded,' so I did the only thing I could...

...I tilted my head back, my eyes silently daring her.

Himiko took a shuddering breath, her too-long tongue sliding out to slip over her teeth as her grip began getting painfully tight on my limbs. Still, it was just pain. Not harm. Not injury. Nothing like what she could actually do if she wanted to. I'd seen her grip strength first hand with some of the acrobatics she'd pulled dodging shots.

“Do it,” I told her, leaving no doubt what I was offering.

That was the last straw, apparently, as Himiko tore my coat open at the collar and sank her teeth into the flesh where my neck met my shoulder. Even as I released an involuntary hiss at the pain, I noted that. She hadn't gone for the throat. If she had, if I'd been in actual danger, I would have pulled taught on my own quirk and sent her into a trance using its thread that connected us even now.

I was horny, not suicidal.

Himiko moaned into the pierced flesh, her tongue sliding over the open wounds her teeth were still digging into. Her body locked up as she arched into me, pressing the length of her body against mine, her grip slackening in the process.

Then the tears started.

Her moans changed to sobs as she came back to herself and just as I wrapped my arms around her, she began to try to pull away, fighting my grip as I whispered into her ear and held her.

~~~

Okay, this one required a rewrite or two before it got to a place that I liked, but...

I'm really happy I took the extra time to give it the polish I did and I think it turned out really well.

There will be more Himiko coming up in the next chapter, obviously. I don't know if I'll be able to close out the second part of the date by the end of that one. If not, I don't think anyone will be bothered by extending it to a third.

Next update will be Nexus Event over the weekend. Finish out the lore chapter.

I'll have the Awesome Tier poll up momentarily.